sauntereddownward (
sauntereddownward) wrote2019-09-17 04:16 pm
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Crowley had been busy. He'd had a rather dastardly idea and with a bit of proper nudging of 'influencers' (whatever those were) and a quick trip to Reddit, he had a new viral sensation. It was sort of like the ice bucket challenge, except it didn't benefit any charities and instead involved putting hot sauce up the nose. It worried parents, caused a bit of harmless mayhem, and most of all...it tarnished the souls of all those who laughed at idiots' misfortunes.
Sure, it wasn't tempting a priest, but it was a laugh.
He sat in the autumn sun outside an interesting little tea shop. He had a steaming cup of a lapsang suchong blend that made the air smell like a campfire. A subtle scent under the cigarette smoke. Crowley was watching his mobile and chuckling along as another bloody idiot put hot sauce on a cotton tip and stuffed it up his nose and began to wail.
"People will do anything to be famous," he said to himself.
Sure, it wasn't tempting a priest, but it was a laugh.
He sat in the autumn sun outside an interesting little tea shop. He had a steaming cup of a lapsang suchong blend that made the air smell like a campfire. A subtle scent under the cigarette smoke. Crowley was watching his mobile and chuckling along as another bloody idiot put hot sauce on a cotton tip and stuffed it up his nose and began to wail.
"People will do anything to be famous," he said to himself.

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Crowley considered that for a moment, then produced his own silver case. He very delicately plucked a cigarette, closed the case and tucked it away, then lit up with his Zippo.
It chinked when he closed it.
A deep drag, then he spoke, smoke boiling out of his mouth with every word.
"You've made yourself less attractive to predators?" he asked. "Human beings are, for the most part, garbage. Given Free Will and they choose often to be selfish, base, violent creatures. But, dear boy, I fear you're hardly free. You're in a prison of your own making. One that is shrinking away to nothing. You do know you can't control others by undoing yourself, don't you?"
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"Is it? Is it really?" he asked...almost...kindly.
"How many roles, on average, would you say you're not being invited to because you look unhealthy? Not because the dodgy wanker in charge doesn't want to roger you now that you're a ghost of yourself, but rather because they don't want to hire a skeleton?"
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Fin took a long drag, then shrugged.
"Dunno," he admitted quietly. "I just know what happens the moment I start looking better, even just a bit."
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Crowley took a breath.
"You know, and I'm not an expert, but I'd think with your fae magics you could just make them...sorry," he suggested.
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"And risk exposing myself," Fin pointed out.
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"Oh, please. What right minded rapist is going to accuse their victim of shriveling their johnson into a raisin?" Crowley snorted. "None of them."
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"It's not just one bloke. They're all connected," Fin said quietly. "You really think I haven't played out every possible scenario in my head already?"
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Crowley was well aware of the networks and webs. Humans, as he'd tried to tell the Home Office, could be so unbelievably Evil there really was no need for an agent of Hell to walk around. He hadn't stressed it too hard, though, because he hadn't wanted to be called back. Human Evil aside, he rather liked it on Earth.
And then Crowley had a very wicked, very nasty, very despicable idea.
"I could do it for you," he said. "What would it be worth to you, having all of them taken care of, leaving you free to work as you please?"
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"What if it wasn't a deal, per se? What if it was a favor? Quid pro quo and all that. I do a thing for you, you do a thing for me. Simple as that. Easy peasy. And nothing untoward or distasteful...I can do those sorts of things on my own, thank you very much," he replied smoothly.
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"I need to know what Love is," he replied simply. "You seem like you might know a thing or two."
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Fin nearly made a joke there, something along the lines of 'you want me to show you?' However, the demon seemed quite serious.
"I suppose I do," he replied, "But I'm not sure how I can help."
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"I'm sure if you let me pick your brain I glean something useful. At least, that's my hope," he replied.
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"Excellent!" Crowley declared, smiling wide. It was not a wholly welcoming smile, though it wasn't entirely sinister. "Now all I need to know is who you'd like me to visit first."
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"I think you should tell me what you intend to do, exactly, first," Fin countered cautiously.
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"Just have a conversation, dear boy. I can be quite convincing when I try. I may make a suggestion or two. In the best interest of everyone, that sort of thing. Don't worry, it's not as if I'll hurt anyone," Crowley replied.
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He wasn't sure he believed that the demon could somehow make it all better- That Crowley could scare the devil that kept him hungry and meek. ...But for a moment he couldn't help but hope there might be a way out of this nightmare. Because if he just stopped, well then Fin could start eating again, right? He'd just wake up better. ...Right?
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Crowley took the card, read it over, then tucked it into his jacket pocket.
"I'd think that by the end of the week this should all come to a screeching halt," he said.
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"I suppose I'll believe it when it happens," he said softly.
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"Miracles happen more often than you think," Crowley told him. "I'll make good on my end and you can have a week to prepare. Notes. Slides. Diagrams. Whatever you think will help me learn."
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