People We Pretend To Be | Crowley

[arcy]

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[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;"]Crowley could tolerate some curiousity. A lot of it, in fact -- if he were in the loop, he may have mixed feelings on her methods. As was, he was just slightly nervous about the stream of questions, and impressed by her persistence. He'd give her some points. If he could force anything other than awkward half-truths, that was.
"Ah,'" Floundering a bit. Pace was picking up. Crowley wasn't one for exercise, true, but he had long limbs, and pretty impressive stamina. Why the hell were they going so quick, anyways? "Well, I can certainly say I've seen plenty more than you have," He grins charmingly. Evasive, hopefully. He's not sure why, on that one. He'd made references to centuries of life, before, unprompted. What's changed now?
And, oh, that's not quite what he meant. Crowley supposes it's what he deserves gor being absolute shit at half-truths, though. Lies, in this place, would just come back to bite him.
"Oh, to each other, they are," Crowley grins wolfishly. He might've said so already, Crowley didn't stand out all that much to the average person, here. Wasn't that something? ... Right. His wings. He'd implied his wings were different. Uh. Roll with it. "Mh. Imagine them as a reflection of the self. Kept 'em hidden for a long time," TOO MUCH, TOO MUCH. Better than admitting the flight thing, but there was some solid truth there. Angel stock's wings did, after all, reflect them, their state of being. A bit too .. complex for Crowley's tastes though. God forbid Snarl chase that line of thought.