Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.
E/O Challenge: Paint. 150 & 200 word drabbles where Crowley makes his mark as a reluctant bunker resident. 1#: Crowley gets advice on adapting to living in the bunker. 2#: If there was an 'I' in team, Crowley would have gouged it out. All set in a slightly crack!AU season 9.
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Paint it Crowley
"I look inside myself and see my heart is black, I see my red door and I must have it painted black" – 'Paint it Black', The Rolling Stones
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A/N: Crowley gets advice on adapting to living in the bunker. 150 words.
A Place for Everything and Everything in Hell
"What's up?" asked Charlie. After only a week she was already tired of seeing the former King of Hell moping around like a wet blanket
"Well, as much as I'm used to living in a hole in the ground," said Crowley venomously, while gesturing at their surroundings. "This still isn't quite what I'm used to."
"So, why don't you redecorate then?" replied Charlie, rolling her eyes.
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"Ta-da!" sang Crowley, throwing open the door.
Charlie entered cautiously, taking in the black painted ceiling, walls and furniture; all strewn with garlands of dead flowers and bleached animal skulls.
"It's... very you," she observed diplomatically, with a forced smile. She looked down, surprised at what she saw. "Everything else is black, so why paint the floor red?
"Makes spilled water looked like blood," said Crowley as if she were mentally challenged.
"Yeah, nice touch," Charlie replied cheerfully, while edging out of the door.
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A/N: If there was an 'I' in team, Crowley would have gouged it out. 200 words.
Blackening the 'I' in Team
"I raise my flags, don my clothes, it's a revolution, I suppose, we're painted red to fit right in" – 'Radioactive', Imagine Dragons
"We need to all do something together," Dean announced.
"What kinda like 'bunker bonding'?" smirked Sam.
"Ew, never say that again, but yeah, some sort of team-building event."
"Well, assuming you boys aren't talking about another apocalypse, how about a whiskey tasting course?" suggest Crowley.
Sam pulled a face. He elbowed Charlie who obligingly pulled a similar, if less forceful version of the same expression.
"How 'bout shooting?" asked Dean.
Castiel grimaced. "I'm not sure that..."
"Ooh! Ooh! Paint balling!" squealed Charlie.
"Running around a blood great field in secondhand overalls?" Crowley shuddered disdainfully. "Count me out."
"Too late, you're outvoted," laughed Dean at the former demon's narrowed glare.
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"So what's the point of this again?" hissed Crowley from behind the hay bale.
Dean rolled his eyes. "To be the last ones standing. Now get down here before the other teams see us."
Crowley fired his paintball gun at point blank range. Head shot!
Finding himself on the floor, Dean looked up. "What're you doing?" he groaned.
"Consider this a cout d'état," grinned Crowley, "I'll be back later to finish off whoever wins," he added, hefting the paint gun, before sauntering off in search of somewhere that served decent coffee.
(;,;)