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;"]Some things were just .. so ingrained into Crowley's being that they were hard to shake off. After six thousand years of it .. being, it was .. odd, to not have to worry about it. He couldn't help it. His eyes, the wings, his fall. Vulnerability was hard. The only way to force himself through it was by .. making jokes. Keeping it from getting too heavy.
Crowley's gaze nervously flickers to Snarl's as she arrives. He hesitates, quickly calculating how much he was comfortable with her being there. He promptly came to the conclusion that he'd already told her .. quite a lot, during their walk, and so it didn't matter. In the end, she was one of the few Tanglers he knew and was comfortable with. He tilts his head downwards, an acknowledgement, as she speaks. It hurts. Failure to fly. Falling injuries. Self explanatory.
"Can I?" Crowley looks somewhat alarmed by this information, tail uncurling from his leg to thwap against the ground. He knew, logically, that birds could take off from the ground. Angels generally didn't, though. He scrunches up his nose. "Didn't really consider that. Didn't ever do that, when I could. And it doesn't really capture the ... feeling, though, if you can't take off," He shrugs, half-heartedly. A single moment to recapture the feeling of flight. It only ever made him feel worse, that it was so far out of reach. Or maybe it'd just encourage him to be more ... demon-y.
Needless to say, this is the least demonic he's been, here in Tanglewood, and Crowley had never been a particularly good demon to begin with.
"Juss' cause they dont work doesn't mean they won't catch me a bit," He's grinning again. It might not have been enough to keep him from hurting himself, but it kept him from getting badly hurt, like Snarl was worried about. Crowley wasn't so stupid as to jump from that high without any sort of fallback. His ear twitches as Aurum continues pressing, and he half-spreads a wing as Aurum looks over them. Nothing to see there -- just .. crow wings. They weren't like his real form, just .. approximations.
He was really going cold turkey on this readjustment thing, huh? Not even Aziraphale had seen his wings that often, after the Beginning. Having attention on them was ... weird. Having to fight against making them small, or hard to see. He was trying. He was trying.
Why was he trying?
"Demon," He says, bluntly. Get it out faster, get it done quicker. He hadn't changed. He wasn't different from what they'd seen, just because he .. just because he Fell, and had to cause some mischief and havoc to placate his superiors. He didn't even have to do that anymore, because he was here, and they couldn't reach him. Well, until they did, and then God knows what would happen then. Nothing pleassant. "Not a good one, mind. Wasss terrible at my job," Placate them, before they got the wrong idea. He wasn't different, he wasn't different. He was just .. him. He's not sure if he could stand it if Aurum, especially, responded infavorably, but Crowley .. trusts him. Even so, he draws his wing back in, uncomfortable. "Moss' of the Fallen lost their wings when they Fell. Don't work right even when they kept 'em. Not sure why," A few of them lost them by choice, of course. Crowley couldn't imagine doing that, even if they didn't work and caused more grief than anything.
It was easier, talking about it from a less ... personal standpoint. He was demon, and demons couldn't fly. It wasn't Crowley, he wasn't talking about himself. Like penguins. Nobody faulted a penguin for not being able to fly.
He can't believe he just compared himself to a penguin. Unbelievable.