catch the sun ➵ flight,, attempt

[arcy]

[align=center]

[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;"]Wings half-spread, feathers catching the wind. He hasn't jumped yet, and he hesitates to. Crowley paces along his perch, awkwardly spinning around each time he reaches the edge. He'd found the largest tree he could just for this purpose. It wasn't a particularly good good purpose, mind, but that was .. fine. Crowley was just stupid, and he did stupid things, and this was fine with him. Usually. He probably wouldn't admit it out loud if he could help it. Crowley may not have a reputation*, but that didn't mean he couldn't have some dignity. Crowley dreads the day he has to give that up.
*or at least the one he wanted.*
[i]*pretended to want.
Mind, Crowley doesn't do this particularly often. It's not .. smart, and the results never [i]change. Crowley is a demons, and demons can't fly**. Crowley will always be a demon. It's not something you can come back from. Crowley will always be flightless, and, presumably, he'll always be launching myself off of tall things whenever he thinks too hard on the whole flightless thing. Which, like -- there were quite a lot of flight related things here, wasn't there? Feza's attempt at a lesson, and then Snarl quizzing him, and the sheer number of Tanglers who had wings.
**not any that crowley knows, anyways
He hasn't proved it yet, and it's kind of strange to consider, because they're not built for flight, but Crowley's pretty sure most of them can fly. It's just .. him. And it's been bugging him, and now he's here.
It's fine. It's not like it'll kill him or anything. Okay, yeah, maybe it'd be a bit nasty if he didn't get any catch, but the point still stands. And there will be catch.
He stops pacing. He's left his sunglasses somewhere against the tree -- one of the first times he's had his eyes visible since he came here, to be entirely honest. He can't exactly replace or fix them, now that he doesn't have miracles, and Crowley likes them. For all his skills in finding things, he's not sure he'll find a pair that covers his eyes from the side too.
This isn't the point, and he's stalling. Crowley edges along the edge of the branch, front claws hooked more around the side than the front. He takes a deep breath, spreads his wings. His chest feels tight. He doesn't want to, because he knows how this will end, but he knows that he needs to, too. He tenses, wings spreading fully now. Another pause, and then he pushes himself off.
And, for a good few moments, they catch. It's been six thousand years since he could fly, but he still knows the motions, like riding a bicycle after a long time. Except if, like, the bicycle was broken.
Just like that, the illusion is broken. Crowley, if it didn't happen so quickly, might have winced as gravity reclaimed him. It's not a graceless, uncontrolled descent. It's quick, but just because he can't fly doesn't mean his wings don't fucking work. The beat of his wings are fruitless, except in keeping him from breaking his fucking weak, mortal bones in a terrible, cheap rendition of the Fall. Crowley plummets to the ground, forward-first. He grunts, feeling the flash of pain as he skids across the ground.
He lays there for a long moment, feeling .. numb, almost. It's not a relief, to have gotten it out of the way. He's scraped, and bruised, and the numbness is morphing into .. something. He's fucking upset. He'll admit it -- who the hell's going to find him out here? ... With his luck, somebody, but this isn't the fucking point. Frustration bubbling in his chest, the serval yanks his wings back in, and pulls in his legs, no longer sprawling. "Fucking dammit," He snarls, teeth bared, voice down. It aches, in the way of something that was important but can never be reclaimed. Just within arm's reach. He's fucking sick of this. "What did you fucking think would happen, anyways?" His voice raises, just a touch. There was no catharsis, and he's just left sitting on the fucking ground, nothing gained. God fucking dammit. He thought it'd help. His breath rattles. He lays his head down, and covers his snout with a paw. It's fine. Fuck.
//tl;dr crowley cant fly but hes an idiot so he just jumped out of a tree and is having Emotions about it
hes fine just kind of banged up

[wormwood.]

Meanwhile, flying had come as a sort of second nature to Aurum from the moment that these wings had grown upon his back, in all their painful glory. Sure, at first it had been difficult, adjusting to the heavy weight on his back and the eay that his body had a new way to amble forward, but he had managed to adapt very quickly, his first actual flight being when he had been attacked by a mutated feral boar, and had needed to get away quickly. Sure, the action had been driven by panic and a desperate need to get away from the vicious creature trying to rip his body apart, but flying had felt so wonderfully exhilarating. It felt so natural and wonderful, despite the fact that his large feline body had never been created with the intention of flying. Nowadays, he was fairly sure the reason that he had felt so incredibly empowered while flying had been because he was an archangel, thrown down into this mortal cool to serve as a guardian angel for Poet – not that any of that mattered now. It just meant that it made sense for him to be able to fly, and to actively enjoy it so much. Unfortunately, it seemed as though Crowley could not enjoy that particularly ability anymore, even if he had once been able to. It was almost sad – actually, it was definitely sad – that Crowley had lost his old angelic abilities when he had fallen into demonhood. Sure, Aurum had technically turned his back on the heavens when he had realized he was an angel, and had decided to remain within Tanglewood rather than go back to the sky where he belonged, but he had never officially fallen, per say, and thus he had never lost his angelic abilities.

When Aurum had first been attempting to fly, shortly after the wings had torn their way forth from his back, catching him off guard and filling him with intense pain, he had only attempted such things off of small platforms, such as slightly high rocks. It seemed, however, that Crowley took a highly different approach to things, considering the fact that he was throwing himself off one of the tallest goddamn trees around here. When Aurum had been out on a patrol around the territory, and had caught scent of Crowley around, he had reflexively felt a smile come to his face. He enjoyed Crowley's company, and often found himself feeling mischievous in the demon's presence. He wasn't entirely sure why – after all, he wasn't aware of the full extent of Crowley's past – but he found that he liked it, and without even a second thought, he could already feel his paws carrying him towards the other male. What he didn't expect to see, however, was Crowley leaping out of one of the extremely tall trees that resided within Tanglewood's swamp. He tensed up immediately, assuming that Crowley was about to continue on in flight, but he was wrong, and he watched the feline's slow crash down into the earth. Aurum stared for a moment in shock before he quickly moved forward, his own wings sticking out as he rushed over to where Crowley was laying on the ground, looking absolutely devastated and unhappy about his little experiment. Once he was near, the guardsman rumbled softly with a worried little frown on his muzzle, "Crowley! Crowley, are you alright? Do I need to get one of the medics...?" He wanted to ask more, like if Crowley was alright emotionally, considering the way that the other seemed on the verge of tears, and was clearly upset over his failed attempt to fly.

[glow=black,2,300]THE FREEDOM OF FALLING[/glow]

[arcy]

[align=center]

[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.

[wormwood.]

If Aurum thought honestly to himself, or knew about the circumstances of how Crowley had become a demon, he probably would've thought that he was less worthy of being an angel than Crowley was. Not that he particularly wanted Crowley to still be an angel. From what limited memories Aurum had of what heaven was like, it was a shithole. All of these religions proclaimed that heaven was this wonderful place where all of your dreams would come true, but for Aurum...? It had been an absolute nightmare of a place to live. Perhaps that was partially because he was the archangel of sorrow, and had been subjected to almost all the pain in the universe just to have him fulfill his role, but either way... he never wanted to return to that place. But that was part of the reason that Crowley was far more qualified for angel hood than him. Aurum, upon learning he had been an angel, had turned his back on heaven and stubbornly clung to everything he had bereft, essentially telling the big man in charge to go fuck himself. Meanwhile, Crowley had just been curious – was curiosity truly a sin up there? The thought would've made Aurum scowl, if it weren't for the fact that his mind was currently turned to Crowley's wellbeing. Unfortunately for the guardsman, it seemed as though Crowley was not in the mood for comforting, if the way that he snapped venomously was anything to go by. Initially, the lion yanked his head back, his eyes widening a little bit at the other's furious and quick reassurance that he was fine – mainly just because Aurum had never seen the other be so absolutely pissed off before. Sure, Crowley tried to be scary and demon-esque like he was supposed to be, but often he didn't succeed, and he was actually pretty helpful most of the time, but this was completely different, and Aurum was ready to have to deal with yet another person having a breakdown, but it was then when Crowley finally relaxed.

It was sort of odd, the way that Crowley quickly flipped the switch to relax, but it sort of put Aurum at ease. What did surprise him, however, was the way that Crowley dragged out his s'es, something Aurum hadn't heard before from the demon. However, it sort of made sense, especially when Aurum caught sight of the other's eyes. They were only minority different from a normal feline's, but they sent a shock down the male's spine, and he hesitated for a moment before rumbling softly, "Alright, as long as you're sure you're okay... you know Selby or the others wouldn't mind taking care of your injuries or anything, since it's kind of their job." Crowley then focused on the incident that had just happened, and Aurum wanted to say that they could just move on from it without any worries, but Crowley had brought it up first, so Aurum just nodded a bit. He then said, shifting his wings upon his back and bringing one of them up to inspect it, as if he was worried his own wings were going to spontaneously stop working because Crowley's hadn't worked. Tail flicking from side to side behind him, Aurum sat down and said softly, "I guess it didn't work out, unless you were planning on crashing into the ground... why weren't you expecting it to work? Have you never tried flying before? Cause there are... easier ways to start learning." After all, there was a happy medium between Aurum's panic fueled way of learning and Feza's erratic and dangerous way of learning – although he had helped somewhat in making her way a bit less dangerous.

[glow=black,2,300]THE FREEDOM OF FALLING[/glow]

[arcy]

[align=center]

[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 fair, Crowley's questions were perhaps ... not the best questions to be asking. Especially for a heaven so high-strung, a angel asking Why? Why must they suffer? What's your plans, why can't we understand?, demanding answers for the ineffable .. well. It would only end in one way.
He'd made peace with it -- sort of*. In fact, he probably could've just ... forgotten, if it weren't for the whole .. wings thing. It's not like he had any clear memories of heaven anyways. Impressions and ideas, yes, but nothing concrete.
*absolutely not.
Crowley was good, at sucking up all of those emotions back into him. He knew how to control them, and work around them. If he wanted to, that was. And, well, maybe he had been embarrassed, and angry at being discovered, and .. Crowley isn't sure, he doesn't really feel like getting into depth about how emotions work or feel. Much better to just ... shove them in a box.
"I'm fine," Crowley assures him, shaking out a paw just to test. He does his best to ignore Aurum's moment of hesitation before responding -- were they repulsive? he hasn't seen them before, it's only natural, though. doesn't sound phased, even.
Don't think too hard on it.
"Can't say I didn't have it coming, anyways," Crowley grins wolfishly, -- or at least an approximation of one. He's trying to save face, just a bit. I mean, admittedly it wasn't going to be really worth it, since Crowley was just going to be admitting a secret in a minute. It made him feel better, anyways. And anyways, it wasn't really worth wasting some stress on somebody who flung themselves out of a tree, just for .. fun. Not fun, but something.
He takes a breath. Questions, then. He'd been baiting for them, just a bit.
Crowley takes a breath. He doesn't have to answer, if he doesn't. But, taking in Aurum now .. he thinks he wants to. He can't quite put into words why. He keeps secrets, that's kind of his .. thing. Mind, Aziraphale was a bit flighty about their relationship, and Crowley had never been close to anyone else.
And, anyways, Crowley might be dead soon -- a month, a year. Who knows. It wouldn't hurt to be a little open.
Christ, he's practically having to talk himself into this.
"Right, cause I'd go so long without having learned already," He says it just to say it. There's no reason for Aurum to know any backstory. He tries to imbue some sourness to his words, just for the effect, but the illusion is broken by the bleak smirk. His tail twitches. Don't look away. Don't. He wasn't so pathetic as to avoid gazes, was he? When he wasn't being purposefully evasive, that was. Crowley wasn't good at lying, and it's not like anyone could usually see past the glasses, anyways. Point being, this was the exact opposite of that. "I, uh. Can't. Fly, that is," He makes a vague motion with his wing. Gathers the strength to elaborate. That could mean a lot of things, after all -- all sorts of hurdles to overcome. "It's just sorta .. a characteristic, of my sort. Used to be able to, though," He makes a vague motion with a wing. It's as close to proper elaboration as he'll willingly get -- a half-answer. Contextless. It's by habit more than by specifically excluding anything.

[wormwood.]

i was born, on the highway, in a train wreck

with a heart, that was beating, out of my chest

Repulsive. There were a great many things that Aurum found repulsive, such as Pittians or senseless violence, but Crowley was far from something that Aurum found repulsive. Crowley or his strange snake eyes. To be fair, Aurum wasn't entirely sure what he felt when it came to Crowley, but he knew that it wasn't disgust or repulsion. He notices that flash – that quick, guarded, hidden flash of self doubt and worry – that dashed over Crowley's face, but just as fast as it had come, it was gone, and Crowley was softly joking and brushing himself off, shaking out his paws and putting Aurum at ease. Aurum still wasn't sure he was alright with Crowley hiding away his emotions like he usually did, but... he wasn't going to bring that up now, not wanting to wound the demon's already fragile composure. Crowley might not have thought that he was worth stressing over, but Aurum had to disagree, thinking that every single one of his clanmates was worth worrying over, Crowley in particular. Aurum wasn't sure why he felt such a connection with the male, but it had happened quickly, and he felt a sort of protective air when it came to Crowley – even though the other constantly acted like he was such hot shit. Inside, Crowley was fucking scared, and even if Aurum didn't know of what, he did know that he was going to fight against whatever it was tooth and fucking nail, even if it ended with him in the ground rather than the demon.

When Crowley said that he hadn't learned to fly, a soft chuckle left the lion as he glanced up at the tree the demon had thrown himself from just moments earlier, "Yeah, uh, I think I could've figured that out from you taking that tumble from up there. You fell pretty gracefully though." He joked softly, trying to lighten the mood and put Crowley a bit at ease – the other seemed like he desperately needed it. Crowley then continued on in his little speech, saying that being flightless was a characteristic of his "kind." Confusion flicked immediately over the angel's face, and he needed more information, stepping a little bit closer to the other and tilting his head to one side as his eyes traced over Crowley's wings, "Crowley? What do you mean, by your kind? A winged cat? Cause I'm pretty sure most winged cats can fly, with enough effort. Or did you mean... something else?" Aurum knew what it was like, having a side of yourself that you couldn't truly talk to other people about. He had only discovered he was an angel about a month ago, but it already felt like a huge part of him that was completely different from everybody else, seeming so distant and strange.

template by orion

[Blazic]

[arcy]

[align=center]

[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.

[wormwood.]

i was born, on the highway, in a train wreck

with a heart, that was beating, out of my chest

When Snarl approached, Aurum turned and dipped his head to the hyena, the words leaving her mouth quite similar to what he had thought to himself before – after all, Crowley didn't have to chuck himself off of the highest possible point that he could find. Still, it seemed as though Crowley, even though he knew he wouldn't actually be able to achieve flight, wanted to at least have an experience that was similar to flight, and Aurum did have to admit that taking off from the ground probably wouldn't achieve anything like that in the slightest if Crowley couldn't truly fly. Part of Aurum almost wanted to suggest to Crowley that if the other truly wanted to fly, then the guardsman would always be willing to let the other ride on his back, considering the demon was small enough that he probably wouldn't have too much trouble with taking flight, even with the added weight. However, the more logical part of him reminded him that Crowley seemed to be a prideful demon, constantly trying to prove that he really was what he was supposed to be, and trying his best not to be helpful even when he was doing just that. Aurum found himself doubting that the feline would ever take his offer to just rest on him while he flew for the both of them, just because Crowley would be admitting weakness and showing some vulnerability. That was technically what Crowley was doing right now, but Aurum could tell by the other's body language that he wasn't particularly fond of the feeling of opening up, even after taking such a tumble.

While Aurum was carefully inspecting Crowley's wings – resisting the strong urge to reach a paw out and touch them – he found himself comparing his own with the demon's, noticing pretty quickly that Crowley's wings were like that of a... well, crow. Aurum's wings resembled more those of a dove, although more in the constructed than the coloration, since his mix of golden and red couldn't be any farther from the pure white of a dove if the universe was trying to make them different. Aurum was shaken from his thoughts when Crowley answered his question, the angel's wings widening slightly at the revelation that Crowley was a demon. He noticed the way that the other lengthened some of his s's,  seeming uncomfortable with the subject as he quickly proclaimed that he wasn't that good of a demon. Aurum rumbled curiously as he tilted his head to one side, his ears perked forward as he looked over Crowley again, taking his eyes and his wings as he breathed, "Oh, a demon...? I've never met a demon before. Never thought about if their wings would work or not..." Aurum's eyes darted over to Snarl for a moment, seeming to quietly contemplate whether he wanted to keep his identity a secret or not, before just deciding to say fuck it. Stretching out his own wings, Aurum rumbled softly to Crowley, "It's pretty funny you're the first demon I've ever met, considering I'm an angel." It was a simple statement, meant to be casual and murmured as if he wasn't even thinking about it, but... it still felt oddly significant, somehow. Perhaps just because of how angels and demons had always been represented on opposite sides, and he found that he rather enjoyed Crowley's company?

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[arcy]

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Well, Aurum wasn't entirely wrong on that front. Crowley would resist such and offering for a time, but .. well. Crowley's pride wasn't as intact as one would think, but he'd probably be delighted to hear he'd put up such a believable front of one. In truth, there really wasn't a lot Crowley wouldn't give up for a facsimile of flight.
As Aurum speaks, Crowley gradually relaxes. He'd tensed up while he'd admitted to his .. status, sort of, though he'd been tense already. It wasn't a big deal. Or, maybe it was a bit, just not in a way that was .. bad. Which was, admittedly, jarring. He allows himself yet another rough grin.
"I didn't think you would. Kept on the low, anywayss," Some might brag about it*, some might be upset, but, regardless was generally acknowledged as something angels could hold against them if they came to blows. Not a secret per se but .. something. "Count yourself lucky, in any case. Mosst of them are bastardss," Crowley generally acknowledged all occult beings as bastards. Just different types of bastard. Crowley was probably just jaded, but, thus far, this belief had not failed him, so he had no reason to reconsider. There were just ... exceptions. One. .. And two, now.
*Was it about losing something God gave them, having less in common with angels? Crowley doesn't get these types.
Crowley jolts as Aurum continues this line of thought, sputtering. "An angel?" He doesn't seem ... hostile, or nervous, just startled. He'd been good at picking up occult energies, back when he had hell's powers. It'd been a sort of .. self defense thing. Apparently that didn't work now. Still, it was jarring for one to slip under his nose.
He refuses to let any of his paranoid thoughts about not noticing less friendly angels, and focuses on Aurum instead, eyes lit up like he'd discovered a particularly juicy secret**. "Would never have guessed, honestly," Aurum was remarkably ... human, in a manner of speech. In a lot of little ways that Crowley could probably drunkenly recount if asked***.
Ever-dedicated, he resolutely doesn't think about what this could mean for him.
**he hadn't, really. and, in fact, if aurum didn't bring it up too often, it'd probably largely escape his mind
***Mind the drunkenly because he sure as hell wouldn't do it sober.
"What an honor. And nobody really leavess hell, anywayss," He shrugs, grin briefly widening towards the beginning of his sentence. Angels, demons -- demons came up for the occasional tempting, but they were so dedicated to that singular tempting. That's not even covering the location. Crowley's not touching that with a ten foot pole. ... Crowley regards Aurum for a long moment, before continuing. "Only really interacted with one other angel since coming up, mysself, and I've been here a long time," His face twitches as he says so. Oversharing**** feels ... strange, but, underneath all of the tenseness, it's a strangely delightful conversation.
... Needless to say, Crowley's emotions were rather inconsistent at the moment. It's fine -- he moved quickly.
**** ... Oversharing as he sees it, anyways.

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