"Never, ever, living in a big city again. Never…"
A certain serpent was in a very foul mood as he staggered up the street, his expensive tunic singed beyond recognition, hands and knees scratched and bleeding. There was a gnawing, thudding pain in his back, which he attributed to the gigantic, charred beam of wood that had trapped him a half hour earlier. How the h – Antioch was he supposed to know that the go – accursed ceiling would decide to come down?
"Bloody stupid bunch of savages," he growled, darkly hoping that every member of every Germanic tribe in existence would keel over and be subjected to the worst hobbies of his colleagues. Fat chance. It was Their idea, after all, he was willing to bet.
Once he reached the outskirts of the city, some time later, he slipped into the shadows and took to the air unnoticed, thankful that his wings hadn't been out when the world exploded.
It looked a lot worse from above. The whole of the Eternal City was chaos and anarchy; tiny-looking people were lying or running in the streets, some Roman, some Germanic; looting and pillaging abounded. As far as the eye could see there were bright orange fires lighting up the massive darkness of stone buildings. The great capital was burning. All that marble, velvet, all that wine. It had been one of his all-time favourite cities, this. He sighed again, turning his back on it all and making his way through the chilly night to the top of a hill overlooking the city, but still far away that he felt pretty safe. There was a breeze in the air, soothing on his overheated skin.
There goes some of the best taverns I ever saw, he thought grimly.
"You should be glad, if it's only the taverns you'll be missing," said a wistful voice behind him, causing him to spin around, startled. A man was standing some feet away from him. Crowley hadn't heard him coming, and that caused him to be on his guard. He didn't bother not to glare as he met a pair of sky blue eyes. A bit like the angel's, really. Blond, this fellow too, but his hair was almost white, and hung heavily to his shoulders. It was unkempt now, ruffled as though he had also been flying. They were about the same height. Crowley noted that the man's clothes looked as expensive as his own.
"Lived there, did you? How'd you get out?" He looked the man over. Nothing special about him physically. Nice build, maybe in his thirties. Pale as nobody's business, though.
"Same way you did," said the man, and his eyes smiled a little too knowingly.
Crowley huffed and turned his gaze to the inferno.
When he turned back, the night was empty.