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;"]To be entirely honest ... Crowley didn't generally mind questions. He liked curious people. Even if it was about him -- that was a little jarring, and Crowley was revealing far, far more than he really enjoyed. ... ... Though. He didn't hate it. He didn't think that she had anything terrible plotted, but Crowley was sure that he could probably handle it if she did. Wasn't anything stopping him from returning his wings to where they come from.
"Bit complicated to explain, to be entirely honest, especially if you're not in the know," Crowley would've shrugged, if he wasn't already using his legs. That was the sort of conversation you would have when you weren't jogging -- face to face. Demonstrations. They said a lot of things, after all -- the color of his wings marked him a demon, his single pair marked him low ranking*. The sleek and shiny appearance showed personality, and the fact that his feathers fell out pretty frequently -- well. That was important, but Crowley didn't particularly want to read into that.
*at least among angels -- got complicated, with demons.
There's a long moment of silence when Snarl asks her next question. He doesn't ... mind people knowing. It's not such a big deal to reveal it, is it? His direct answer wouldn't admit a lot, but he's sure her resulting questions would. His demon status isn't a secret, and it's not his problem whether or not she knows, or figures it out from his answer. It wasn't even .. demon specific. It was just sort of ... outside of this earthly plane, which would probably be alarming to her. A big step up from winged animals, even. But it didn't have the same sort of stigma as demons do. So, He picks up pace, and, if allowed, will jog alongside the hyena.
"Physically, no. Look a lot like crow wings," He explains. To show, Crowley extends the wing opposite to her to its full width as soon as he sees a chance -- they really were rather large, his wings. He pulls it back in fairly promptly, not willing to risk bashing it against a tree. It really was kind of fascinating, the explanations behind all of it all. "These're more of .. an approximation of what my real wings look like, though. They don't really translate well onto, well -- this," He makes an awkward motion with a wing, presumably motioning to himself. Oh god, oh fuck. Looks like this particular can of worms is open now -- it really is a fascinating conversation, Crowley thinks. It's just ... a slightly uncomfortable one. Admitting more than he has to anyone, but, hey, she was the one who asked, wasn't she? It's not his problem if she can't handle it, since she was apparently fascinated enough to ask so much.