10-16-2019, 03:29 PM
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*neat was a four letter word, but better than nice, at least
**he hadn't had a physical form at the time, but it was still infeasible.
Crowley slept some nights, but not all of them. His patterns were irregular -- and sleeping only eight hours was tedious, when you can plan ahead and literally sleep through a week. This, it seemed, was one of his awake nights. The serval's ears twitch, looking over the scene, of his groupmates sitting in a field and discussing the stars. He doesn't .. mean to approach, per se -- he's trying to mantain a balance of around and not known***, but ... well. He sighs, and allows himself a small smile as he trots down to join them.
***It should be noted he's failing miserably -- Crowley is growing too fond of these people for his own good.
"Fascinating how your lot gave names and stories to little dots in the sky," Crowley says, tone softer than usual****. He seats himself a short distance from the group and curls his tail halfway around himself. Then, giving his own tibdit of opinion, grins crookedly at them. "Spare a thought for the science of it all, maybe. flaming balls of gas, burning so hot you can see them from lightyears away," He adds, wistfully. Lovingly created, only to be seen from such a great distance -- not including the sun, obviously. The sun was hardly even regarded as a star, though.
****He wasn't all that good at harsh tones around these people, which is to say, it was very soft.
[glow=#000,1,400]all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]
[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]Admittedly, it was .. neat* .. for Crowley to see people appreciating the stars. He'd helped with those, in the Beginning -- not all of them by any means, that was physically** impossible. But, regardless, he still had a soft spot for them, but there was nothing particularly special about that, at least not with so many people.*neat was a four letter word, but better than nice, at least
**he hadn't had a physical form at the time, but it was still infeasible.
Crowley slept some nights, but not all of them. His patterns were irregular -- and sleeping only eight hours was tedious, when you can plan ahead and literally sleep through a week. This, it seemed, was one of his awake nights. The serval's ears twitch, looking over the scene, of his groupmates sitting in a field and discussing the stars. He doesn't .. mean to approach, per se -- he's trying to mantain a balance of around and not known***, but ... well. He sighs, and allows himself a small smile as he trots down to join them.
***It should be noted he's failing miserably -- Crowley is growing too fond of these people for his own good.
"Fascinating how your lot gave names and stories to little dots in the sky," Crowley says, tone softer than usual****. He seats himself a short distance from the group and curls his tail halfway around himself. Then, giving his own tibdit of opinion, grins crookedly at them. "Spare a thought for the science of it all, maybe. flaming balls of gas, burning so hot you can see them from lightyears away," He adds, wistfully. Lovingly created, only to be seen from such a great distance -- not including the sun, obviously. The sun was hardly even regarded as a star, though.
****He wasn't all that good at harsh tones around these people, which is to say, it was very soft.
[align=center]![[Image: ezgif-7-f3e523f182d0.gif]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/463081660515221505/684393717838249984/ezgif-7-f3e523f182d0.gif)