catch the sun ➵ flight,, attempt

[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 hadn't even meant to Fall, or even get involved with the rebellion. Crowley was a curious creature was all -- he couldn't help having questions, and he couldn't help wanting answers. He hadn't expected such drastic consequences but, well, that was Heaven for you. Hell wasn't that much better. To be fair, there wasn't any farther down to go if you betrayed Hell. It just made sense that one would have to pay some .. rather hefty consequences. Including, but not limited to, death.
Honestly, Crowley's life is a cosmic joke where everything backfires on him. No matter what he's doing -- if it's good, or if it's mischievous, or something else, there will be consequences. This isn't the point though and, in fact, Crowley is just wallowing in self-pity. He's good at that, wallowing. Brooding. Very specific art forms, those.
Crowley's ears fall as he hears Aurum's voice. He's not actually sure how he feels about the lion's arrival -- it's soothing, in a way. To just ... be around people. On the other, he can't fucking believe he got witnessed. Especially curled up like ... something. Some sort of insult. Crowley's tail curls around a hind paw, and he struggles into a sitting position with a grimace.
"I'm fine," He snaps, more venomous than he's been before. Eyes squeezing shut, carefully averted so one can't see them. One shouldn't take any of it personally, probably. He takes another deep, shaky breath. Don't snap. Don't snap. Don't snap. Don't snap. What Crowley should logically do the proper demonic thing and continue on a similar line of dialogue. Some venom, shove him away and hurt him.
Crowley doesn't.
Aurum was worried. It was nice to be worried over, though it'd be a while till the Serval admitted such a thing. He regards the lion somewhat listlessly, calculating exactly how much he should distance himself from the situation. His mental calculator is, unfortunately, broken, leaving him stranded in an unfamiliar situation. "Jussst a bit banged up. Sshouldn't be hard to deal with on my own," His tone softens in something that could be interpreted as an apology for his previous venom, carefully ignoring the way he catches on his s'es. It's been a while since he's done that. In any case, Crowley wasn't lying. Nothing broken. Shame that he couldn't miracle away injuries anymore, but they were just some scrapes. A moment of silence, and Crowley, with a fair bit of difficulty, tilts his head to look up at Aurum.
Stupid. It doesn't even matter. Snake eyes aren't that different from cat eyes appearance-wise and it wouldn't even be the weirdest thing that Aurum had seen. It doesn't matter. .. He can't help but feel a bit vulnerable anyways. It happened, after six millennium of finding unique ways of hiding them from humanity. Having ... unfortunate, bloody incidents because of them, in the early days.
"Didn't, uh, really work out, did it?" Oh boy, that was the complete opposite of bringing attention off of the incident! Crowley grimaces, but plasters on a grin anyways. It's a bit fake, but Crowley thinks they should be more focused on being impressed with everything else he's giving them. Vulnerability was nauseating. "Didn't really expect it to, but," He shrugs, gaze flicking a way a few times, but ultimately he manages to force himself not to look away completely.
He thinks, if he really tries, he might be able to lie about this, too. Or at least deflect it enough for Aurum to let it go. .. It's just a matter of what Crowley feels up to.
Listen, in a year's time, Crowley is eighty percent certain he'll either be dead or suffering in hell or something. He could ... he could try. He is trying.