GET DISOWNED ➵ fight

[arcy]

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It's over.
Crowley shies away, useless heart thudding in his chest as thick black blood slides down his cheek. The sting barely catches his attention, despite the shock of it.
"Enough is enough," Hastur snarls, teeth bared. The lynx's fur is matted and covered with maggots. Crowley's lip curls. Enough -- it'd been, what, two, three months? Hardly a flicker in his immortal's life, technically, but it'd been .. nice. it'd been nice.
"I'm honestly surprised it took you this long," Crowley snarks, because he is. He'd, what, stolen some important files? Run away? That was reason enough to come come chasing after him as soon as possible, nevermind that he'd put the files back. His gaze refuses to settle on either of the duo, mind racing for a solution far too quickly for him to settle on one.
Maybe, it's because there isn't one.
Under normal circumstances, Crowley would never have been able to match up to either of them. He wasn't a particularly powerful demon, after all. Just one of many lower ranked demons. .. Mind, under normal circumstances. It's a hopeless plan. It's a terrible, horrible plan.
It's the only one he's got.
"And you'll be paying for every extra hour," Crowley isn't surprised the bastard had jumped at the chance to have a hand in his .. execution, probably. His slow, gruesome execution. He doesn't doubt that they must've dug up some dirt in his absence.
You see, the thing about lying about nearly every portion of your life to your superiors was that, even if they didn't really get to the meat of it, there was still so very much to hold against him if you looked for only a moment.
"I, uh. Hm. I see," Crowley smiles thinly, a sliver of fang slipping out of his jaws. All or nothing. All or nothing. This is it.
He doesn't want to go back.
What's a little more rebellion, in the grand scheme of things? At least then he can be dragged down to hell having fought back. For the first time in his goddamn life.
"I ... don't think I am, actually," His tail lashes. He's not thinking about Aziraphale, or the Tanglers, or, or .. anyone at all. He's not going back, because he doesn't want to, and he's sick of it. He's sick of it. He's done with it.
This is it.
Things happen very quickly. Ligur starts to say something, stepping towards him but Crowley's catapulted himself into the wolf's chest before any words can registered. Ligur yelps, losing balance and tumbling to the ground. It's his own fault -- it's not Crowley's fault that he'd probably only had this form for, what, a few hours at most?
You see. When Crowley said normal circumstances -- well. He'd been a serval for much longer than they'd been a lynx and a wolf, and he'd gone without miracles for much longer than them. This was a purely physical fight. What Crowley lacked in size and strength and ... ability, he made up for in familiarity.
Hastur is tripping over himself. Crowley scrabbles against .. whatever surface he's on, Ligur, or maybe just the ground, and sinks his teeth into the wolf's shoulder. The revolting taste of demonic blood floods his mouth.
Crowley has never been more thankful that his sense of taste is so dull.
Hastur is a fucking idiot. The lynx digs his claws around Crowley's chest, trying to yank him off, and both of them slam into the ground as he loses balance. Ligur is on his paws in a moment.
Crowley is so fucked. Crowley is so fucked. His only strategy here is to keep them separated, and he needs a second of distraction. Just one.
Crowley tears his claws down Hastur's face and, quick as a flash, is back on his paws. He feels dizzy, and afraid, and it's impossible, but he wants to get out of here. Ligur's there, and he's put too much weight into his lunge, and he stumbles. Crowley hisses regardless, feeling the dizzying dig of Ligur's teeth. He's not in a position to fight. He doesn't know how to fight, not really -- not in a humanoid form, not in his demonic form, and certainly not now. He's fucked. He's fucked. He's fucked.
Crowley, though part his shoulderblades are otherwise occupied being bitten, desperately swipes at the wolf until a lucky shot -- where? The neck? He doesn't know -- has the black wolf reeling. Crowley scrabbles back, but doesn't get a chance to reorient himself before he's back on the ground.
Again.
None of them know how to fight like this, after all -- knocking them down seemed to be the agreed upon safe option.
"You," Hastur snarls. Disoriented, Crowley worries that he's going to have maggots on him, and in his wounds, and maybe there's something wrong with Hastur's corporation, because he's practically foaming at the mouth. "Are going to regret this,"
"Ngh," He feels like a fucking marshmallow. His brain was replaced with a marshmallow. "Yeah," He agrees, miserable. He can salvage this. He can. He just -- squeeze his eyes shut, wriggle a bit, and close. A strange noise emerges from Hastur's throat as he's launched off of Crowley's form, and Crowley tries not to wince at the blossoming ache in his wings. Wings had terribly powerful muscles, after all, and it'd be .. difficult, to push Hastur off with an injured leg, wouldn't it?
Crowley catapults to his feet as quickly as he can, shying away from his superiors as he shakes out his wing. He's covered in mud, and probably a few maggots, he's not sure, it's hard to focus. It's a rather hopeless situation, he thinks. He's not exactly .. meant for this. The only reason he's made it this far is because they're all shit at fighting, and he's managed to keep them from double teaming him properly.
All in all ... not the dream scenario.

//part 1!!
tl;dr crowley told his superiors to Fuck off and is now Kind Of Cornered. powerplay is, in fact, allowed on them, feel free to chase them off!
anyways crowleys pretty much fine, just pretty disoriented from panic and also falling to the ground like 5 times cause theyre all idiots

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[wormwood.]

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

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

After Aurum's several discussions with Crowley over heaven and hell in the past, the angel knew that Crowley hated hell just as much as he did heaven, if not even more. Crowley may not have ever really gone beyond mild complaining when it came to actual words, but Aurum could tell from the way the other reacted as he talked, his facial expressions, and all sorts of different things that Crowley hated being trapped between a rock and a hellish place. Aurum had wanted to do nothing more than help the demon in his struggles, but truthfully he hadn't known how to. After all, Aurum had no connections to hell, nor did he really have a strong connection to heaven anymore. Despite once being a high ranking archangel, it wasn't as if Aurum could just rain holy fire down on whoever he wanted, at least not while they still remained within their realm of suffering and hatred. Thankfully, it seemed as though two of Crowley'a higher ups had been stupid enough to leave their comfort zone, where they most definitely lost any sort of territorial advantage that they had to work with in the first place. It truly was the farthest from fair that you could really end up having. After all, unlike any of the three demons present, Aurum not only had the power of flames at his disposal, but he had years of experience operating within his animal body. No matter what, no lynx or wolf wanted to take on a fully grown lion, especially not one of the above average size of Aurum, with the added power of his wings and flame elementals.

The guardsman had been out for a flight around the territory, his strong golden and red wings flapping every once and awhile to keep him above the tree line as he scanned down below him with one eye, keeping himself primed for any possible intruders. If anything, he had been expecting some pissy Pittians, or perhaps a rogue who felt like messing with Tanglewood territory. Instead of either of those things, however, he spotted Crowley, along with two other creatures who were obviously none too pleased with him. Immediately Aurum's ears pinned down against his skull, and the angel found himself diving down from the sky, the earth around him seeming to almost rattle as he slammed down onto it, standing up to his full and intimidating height. He stood between Crowley and the other two, immediately wrinkling his nose at the sight and smell of the other two demons, along with the unfortunate state that Crowley was in. Seeing the unhappy and slightly pained look on Crowley's face only made the anger in Aurum grow more, and before long he could feel fire bubbling up through his body, coiling in fiery rings around his front legs like a snake. He roared furiously, his one blue eye seeming to blaze with the same power that currently rushed up through him, his huge wings spreading out upwards to produce an even more intimidating issue, "How DARE you come onto Tanglewood territory and attack Crowley? You scum will regret the day you ever crawled out of the accursed earth." The angel had heat and anger radiating off of him in waves, and he could already see the two scrambling amongst themselves, both terror and confusion present in their faces – after all, how were they supposed to know there would he an archangel living in the same place as Crowley?

The angel of sorrow wasted no time launching himself forward, his flaming form crashing into Hastur with an almost bone rattling crunch. He wasn't sure what exactly what he had hit, but there was blood splattered on his front, and Hastur was wheezing in what seemed like the closest thing to pain that could be felt, the lynch's form half racing and half limping away after being slammed into the nearest tree. Ligur was already turned around, looking about ready to bolt, but Aurum slammed a paw down on the wolf's tail, dragging him back and digging his teeth into his side, making him let out a howl of agony before be was tossed away with a firm slam as well. More wheezing filled the air as Ligur stumbled upwards, and Aurum roared again, righteous fury still racing through his veins, "LEAVE! And if you ever return, I will be here again to do things even worse." In all honesty, the lion had gone easy on them, and they seemed to realize that, both demons rushing off as quickly as they could with their myriad of injuries, tails tucked between their legs as they disappeared from sight. It was a couple of minutes before Aurum finally let out a sigh, his flames flitting out to nothingness and his wings settling back down upon his back. It was always hard to adjust back after he had a moment like that, but he also had Crowley to worry about, and he didn't particularly want to be wreathed in white hot flames for that.

Turning around, Aurum wrinkled his nose as he flicked off some of Ligur and Hastur's blood, a grunt leaving him before he moved over to Crowley, worry reflected in his one blue eye. The archangel mumbled softly as he stepped close, fussing like a mother or a lover would, "Crowley... sorry I wasn't here sooner. Are you alright? Who were those two?" He was fairly sure he could guess, but he wanted confirmation from the demon himself, not to mention that the guardsman didn't like making assumptions. He was ready to start calling out for Selby or Moth right away, but for the moment Crowley didn't exactly look fatally injured, so Aurum decided to wait until he got the feline's answer, his body tense with anxiety. He honestly wasn't sure how Crowley would react to seeing him fully immersed in his righteous angelic element, ready to slaughter for those that he cared about or respected, but he could only hope it wouldn't reflect negatively upon him, especially after he and Crowley had just begun to become close.

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[arcy]

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For a long time, Crowley just sort of considered Hell .. a job, maybe. Not a pleasant one, but he did what he had to to get by. He certainly hated going downstairs, and actually interacting with them, but it was ... fine, when he was away from them.
Okay, fine, listen. Yes, Crowley hated Hell, and he hated them quite a lot, in his own sort of passive way. It was inevitable he'd turn on them someday -- and then promptly refuse to tell anyone about the results of that. Demons were more frequently killed than redeemed after they commit a crime against Hell. Especially as somebody so low ranked. Replaceable. Not so replaceable that they could just let him get away with it, mind. An example to be made.
Crowley hadn't ever even considered that he might receive help. Sure, he might be near integrated into this place now, but, well ... he'd never been rescued before, and he hadn't expected that to change now.
As such, Aurum's arrival seems to .. break something, in Crowley. Just a complete shut down, the serval freezing as he sees the lion land in front of him. And, for a long moment, it's difficult to process, as Aurum bursts into flames and snarls at the unfortunate duo. He's already a bit .. frazzled, and his brain had just been working overtime but a few moments ago. He's not afraid of Aurum. Crowley, despite everything, even when he's temporarily incapable of comprehensible thought, trusts him even still.
It's only when Aurum slams into Hastur that Crowley snaps out of it. Holy shit. He tracks the lynx's movement as he slams into the tree, and can't manage to bring himself to feel anything other than shocked awe. And, really, after such a brutal beating, Crowley doubts they'd try again. They're powerless here, after all.
.. Somehow, he doubts that, that they'd give up completely, but it's enough, for now.
Is this what whiplash is like? Crowley's brain is desperately trying to catch up, to process much of anything at all. It isn't going well, but he can at least acknowledge that Aurum's sudden switch from ... whatever the hell that was to .. whatever this is is .. very jarring indeed.
"'s a lot more than I was expecting at all, honestly," Crowley settles on a long moment later, after he can begin to properly process language. He's still somewhat tense, but he seems to be, gradually, relaxing, more because of Aurum's tone than any actual comfort. He gets the feeling he'll be on edge for months now, and he's starting to feel the mud and the wounds and the wriggling more clearly. He ignores it."Fuck, you took care of them quick," He's not entirely sure what that says about Crowley's fighting skills. .. Alright, he's going to face it, now that he's thinking clearly. He had the disadvantage of being much smaller than Aurum, sure, but Crowley was shit at fighting. He can't believe that he was going to be beaten around by two jackasses who didn't know what they were doing. Unbelievable.
Crowley shakes himself from his tangent. It doesn't matter. Aurum is still worried.
"I mean ... it could be worse?" Crowley says, dubious. He's not a terribly good judge of injuries, especially his own, regardless of the feelings sinking back into him. It wasn't anything he'd particularly enjoy walking around with or dealing with on his own, but he's not fond of the other options, either. Which, considering Crowley's history, is probably something he'll have to do someday.
Crowley sits down, heavy, to take the weight off his shoulders. He's silent for a long moment, before attempting to shrug. He regrets it immediately, and his face skews into something vaguely pained. He takes the dive, presumably to distract from this. "Oh, you know," He says, because Aurum probably did. It feels better to not just ... say it, anyways. "Superiors. Weren't too pleased with my uh. My quitting," This is the most eloquent way he can put it at the moment. There's probably some better words out there that he can't quite find yet, though. Quitting doesn't quite encompass temporarily stealing very top secret documents and then disappearing for like, three months without warning.

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[wormwood.]

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

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

Aurum supposed that perhaps, on some level, it was easy to think of heaven as hell as just a job, at least for some. In contrast to Crowley, Aurum had been an extremely high ranking archangel, but his purpose had been to test humans on their capacity for passion and whether they deserved entrance into heaven based on how they dealt with the suffering of others. Thus, Aurum had been subjected to watch all of the suffering in the world, just so that he would prepared for his "job" as the angel of suffering. It had been horrible work, and Aurum had never truly thought of it as a job, but rather a prison. So it was unsurprising that both Crowley and Aurum hated their respective places of origin, even if they both had different reasons for it. Unlike Crowley, Aurum had sort of slipped from heaven when he had become a guardian angel, taking his assignment and abandoning it along the way, although hiding himself away in order to avoid the repercussions for it. He supposed that was sort of what Crowley had done with his wandering on Earth as well, except the other had ended up pulling the stealing important documents stunt, which had ultimately led to this. Aurum had never done something so brash, fearful of repercussions – less for himself, but for those around him.

Aurum hated seeing those around him hurt, especially those that he truly cared about, so it was really no surprise that he had come to Crowley's aid, having grown closer and closer to the demon as time progressed. Just seeing the other demons trying to push the feline around had put the red hot wrath of heaven in Aurum's heart, and sure enough, it had been what had fueled him to kick Hastur and Ligur's asses all the way back to Hell – for now, at least. The lion had hardly even noticed the way that Crowley had frozen up when he had descended from the sky, too preoccupied with the task at hand to be worried about what had been going on behind him. The moment the fight had ended, however, he had been at Crowley's side, worrying fretfully over the demon. When Crowley answered his frantic mumblings, a soft and faintly exhausted laugh left the lion, his voice leaving him in a rumble, "It's not like I was just going to let them hurt you. You're a tangler, and more importantly, you're my friend." It was then that Crowley mentioned his skills in taking them out, and the angel felt the faint heat of embarrassment spread across his face as he answered, shrugging a bit, "I suppose I did... I guess I've just gotten used to fighting, being a guardsman and all, especially after the whole raid on the Pitt.." Truthfully, he had been training long before the raid on the Pitt, but it had been amazing practice, and had definitely been helpful in dealing with the two demons, even if they were already at the supreme disadvantage of size and being used to an animal body.

A sigh left the guardsman when Crowley let out the vague assessment of his own injuries, and the lion stepped closer, gently nudging his nose over Crowley's fur to check for any obvious large injuries. When he came upon a few maggots from the other demons, his nose immediately wrinkled, a gruff noise leaving him as he grabbed them with his teeth, carefully spitting them aside before crushing them. Once he seemed satisfied, he rumbled with a sigh, "Doesn't seem like there's any obvious open wounds besides a bite mark. You'll probably have some bruising though... soreness... maybe Selby or Moth will have something for that." He wasn't trained for much more than basic medicine and diagnosis, so he couldn't truly do anything right at the moment except offer Crowley back to camp, where the actual medics would probably have better tools to deal with any injuries the demon had sustained. When Crowley mentioned that the demons that had done this to him were superiors, a gruff snort of anger left the guardsman, shaking his head as he mumbled, "Guess I should've known... assholes. If they ever show up again to try and cause trouble for you, I won't be so lenient with how I deal with them." It was truly unclear in what universe Aurum's utter thrashing of the demons had been "lenient," but he seemed good on his promise, a faint angered gleam in his eyes. Crowley deserved to be away from hell and not have to answer to them with everything that Aurum had seen, and the angel was going to make sure Hastur and Ligur knew that.

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