"Donati, I need a clean up crew in my California office immediately." Crowley looks at the blood stain where the manufactured meat suit that held Rowena dwas moments before. "I have a meeting with an agent here tomorrow to go over young pop stars, and I can't have a blood stain and a devil's trap ruining the atmosphere. Be here in five. Oh, and send Ranni to the upstairs courthouse in ten." Crowley hangs up and looks around. The office was indeed a mess, and Crowley could probably clean it up with a thought.
But why be king if you had to do everything yourself. Besides, he had just cleaned up a mess far larger than this not too much earlier.
He looks at the three jars with souls in them and with a wave they vanish. And so does he.
We sit on the throne in the earth courthouse. We had ten minutes until it was back to business, and I had a feeling I knew what each single one was for.
"Seventy to thirty percent Chew Toy. Now. Let's get a look at our newest tenant."
I can feel the presence move from an untouched area free of smoke, to right next to me. Rowena.
"You must be Chew Toy...Rebecca."
There wasn't really a need for a full voice here, the one you hear when you think, or read. Mine had gone near right away; my only voice was the one that I heard when I thought… I didn't need more. Everything was just ideas now. Emotions. Facts. It had become that quite quickly for me for some reason. Crowley encourages it. He hated hearing souls trying to talk to him, to each other...But if he said it was ok.
Crowley is silent, waiting. But I sense faint approval.
He is waiting for us to get acquainted, for his mother to feel the information my soul could give her. Before he tore into her. He hadn't touched her yet, he was waiting to find out what she felt. Holding off the moment of truth so he can just enjoy the fact that he has beaten her, just for a bit before it's ruined by annoying facts or emotion.
"Ninety years ye've known my son, that's more than I ever have. What have ye learned of him?"
"He's the King of fucking Hell Rowena. More than Abbadon, more than Lucifer, more than any other demon he fits the role that most people believe the devil fills. If he could play fiddle as well as he does drums…"
"Oh I don't know a thing about drums but he can play the fiddle darlin'. He learned at 5."
"Started learning?"
"No. Just-"
"That's enough, let's do some soul searching."
Every soul can feel each other's pain here, and Rowena's… well Lucifer would use the word exquisite. Abbadon might use the word fun. If I were a demon I might use the word satisfying. A long time ago Crowley would have used the word boring.
Now, Crowley uses the word energizing.
Rowena screams as he pulls information from her. Pain as a soul is different than when you were in a body. It is pure. It is something that you can't easily compartmentalize. You can barely grow used to it if it is being done on purpose. It is all encompassing.
Crowley loves the feeling. It 'makes his smoke quiver.' Now however, it isn't about that at all. It is about revenge. Personal, messy, long overdue, revenge. Revenge that will, after a probably intense labor, birth satisfaction and truth. So he searches the one who brought him into the world a pure white soul and who led him on the path to turning that dark red. He doesn't know why his smoke is red and not black, but I have an idea. After all, demons crave things like sex, violence, money, attention.
Demons, they don't crave love.
Sure the need was twisted into a megalomaniac like craving for attention and adoration, but Crowley still wanted love. Loyalty. Truth.
At conventions, over 59 years ago now, as Mark Sheppard he had said for years, while trying to trick his fans, that Crowley wasn't a demon. I don't think Crowley really believed that, but I'm not so sure.
I think he may have been right. Just a bit. After all, demons can't eat souls. I don't care what the contract said, it shouldn't have been possible.
So Crowley has to be something else, in my opinion, even if just slightly. Just enough. Just to make him red. Perhaps it wasn't what he craved, perhaps it was something undefined yet.
I am in far more personal pain suddenly, my ideas cut short. Crowley wants quiet while he picks apart the information he wants. So there is silence. For moments of eternity there is silence as he examines every atom to verify and reverify. Seven minutes of examining, just like he said. Seventy to thirty. That left three minutes for conversation and reflection.
He pulls his smoke out his mother's soul and pauses, sits in the silence of the world outside his corporeal form while inside his own his mother is composing herself after the unbelievable amount of pain. He stares ahead. Thinking. Contemplating. Positing. Until...
"...Huh."
"I told ye Fergus. I changed." Thinks Rowena, over the pain, it is temporary. She agrees with me on that. Anything that is temporary can be endured for a greater goal. Also, she doesn't care if he hurts her. It was her fault her son was like this. And she was here to 'fix' that, support him in his new form. I could tell. I could feel it.
So could Crowley.
And he had no idea what to do with this information. For once in his long demon life, he has information that was worth something, that he had no idea how to use, or even react to.
I knew of course. Because love isn't something you used, not if it was the goal in the first place. Crowley had every single answer about his mother he could ever want now, and there were a lot of answers. Some weren't pretty, some made me cringe and recoil. Crowley could deal with those, Crowley could Use those. Regrets. Fears. Wants. Needs. Easily used.
But something given with no expectation of something in return? That is the love a mother has for their child.
And he didn't know what to do with it.
And that was dangerous.
So there is quiet amidst a mild sensation of building pain and pressure from ambient anger and confusion. After all, he had what he wanted. Now what to do with it?
Abuse it? To what end? Revenge? He could tell that it wouldn't break her, it would only enforce the regrets she had over what he had become Because of her. And she would still love him.
And that confused him more. He'd had love before, from his human family, from his fans, but not where the craving originated. Not from his mother. This was new, unrequited love for him not just as Fergus, but as Crowley.
So...embrace it?
...How?
Of course the problem is Still that he was trying to Do something with it at all. So he sits; and thinks, and the ambient pain of anger born from not knowing what to do, grows. So he sits; lost in his thoughts that he is letting, at least me, feel the edges of. Perhaps it is on purpose… perhaps not...
I just wonder if I have a new roommate. I'm not sure how I feel about that. Crowley however, is thankful for my curiosity, because it is something else to focus on other than this latest triumph turned sour.
"For a couple decades Chew Toy, until it doesn't matter if anyone knows what I'm doing." I suppose it is possible that that could happen. I didn't know how he planned to achieve that.
"So that's what he meant by show… I'm quite the bonnie lass aren't I?"
We are both taken out of our musings by the comment. I hadn't realized Rowena was looking through my memories with that much detail.
"Yes, the actress that portrayed you was quite good. Most of the actors and actresses on the show were phenomenal. It's why it went for so long. No the plot, not the monsters; the characters. That's always what it is. The most boring interactions in the world can be made engaging if the characters are interesting."
Crowley rolls his eyes. He agreed, he had to, he had used that idea to his own advantage for years upon years. That didn't mean he couldn't think this conversation was beyond cliche and boring.
Luckily for him we are interrupted by the doors opening, our 3 minutes are up. A young woman walks in, mini skirt and glasses starts a school girl look and a black tie finishes it. High heels click on the stone floor for a moment before she comes to a stop in front of Crowley.
"Ranni. Prompt as always." She bows ever so slightly.
"My king. What can I do for you today?" Crowley smiles. Ranni was one of the fans. Specifically one of his too. She was in college for business at the time and she had sold her soul for VIP tickets to any convention she wanted for 10 years, and the guarantee she'd be in upper management after she died. Crowley delivered, and she is now one of the few who reported directly to him on a regular basis.
"Income report, last quarter?" Ranni begins to talk without even looking at her papers.
"Uninitiated crossroads deals were down a full 10%, but ones we got from apps were up 42.6%. We lost 2 demons to hunters, but that was mitigated by the gain of 14 new demons, and 162 new souls for the library and line."
"Very good. And has the library been working well?"
"Critical success."
"There are enough souls so none get demonized by accident?"
"They are rotated out from active duty every week, but we may need more soon. Some are..." Starting to crack would be a kind term. The souls the demons took out from the library to 'play' with would slowly start to turn into demons themselves if not given reprieve. Even then...the torture of knowing they would, or could, be sent back on the active roster to be checked out, that was a form of torture in itself. All of them would eventually turn. It could take eons if they were rotated out with ones in the line, but then the line would become a haven, not the form of torture it was supposed to be.
Crowley and Rowena listen to my ideas. Crowley with an acknowledgement that he had indeed already realized this, and Rowena with a bit of interest that this was where my mind went. Not to horror that the souls were playthings, but logistics. I felt ashamed, but I was wired that way. Any problem I was presented with I immediately wanted to see if I could figure it out. I had an answer for this problem, but Crowley already knew it, and had thought of it himself.
It was the secondary purpose of the library after all.
"Remove the ones that are breaking and have them sent here, with their paperwork. Replace them as soon as possible."
"Yessir." She doesn't even question it. She doesn't care. It meant it wasn't her problem any more and that meant it wasn't something that she could fail at. To Crowley, it was an emergency stash.
"Do you enjoy the library yourself?" She makes a look of distaste.
"No. Not really my thing. Too controlled and confined. I'd rather go upstairs and see if I can tear some valley girls' friendship apart with some well placed texts." That's one of the reasons Crowley like her, she liked a challenge and didn't care for normal torture. It bored her too, or perhaps it was a bit too violent for her. Not all of his new demons liked violence. He nods in approval.
"I'll give you a pass to go upstairs for two days, bring the approval form and contract to me tomorrow and we'll sign." Ranni looks up, a surprised, but very tentative, smile on her face.
"Th-thank you sir!"
"But first a few things for you to do before you grab that form. One, announce there will be a meeting for anyone not on duty. An hour." She takes a note. "Second. Whatever deal is going down right now with...a cheater of any kind, have them brought here before the contract is signed. I want to see to it personally." She looks at the king for a moment, curious. Curiosity was dangerous, he had just found that out first hand at the warehouse. "I don't enjoy the library Ranni. What I do enjoy is watching the myriad of confused emotions on a mortal's face as they sign a contract. However, I don't have time to go find one myself before the meeting; and I need to unwind." This made sense, he was King of the Crossroads, everyone knew he loved that job, after all he still held the title himself. It meant extra work for him, but it meant he owned all the contracts a bit more directly than the King of Hell would. He also didn't trust anyone else with the job. However he didn't have as much time to be there personally anymore, he probably missed it. Right?
Oh Ranni, it's sad when even I can see the thoughts a demon has just by looking at their face. It's sad because of how right and how wrong you are. If Crowley wanted to do something, he made time. He just didn't feel like going through his own dossiers right now, none of the prospects there interested him at the moment. Besides, this was a primary protection, he still had his secondary. Me, and his little boxes of my sparks hidden around the world. What he wanted was a surprise. He might meet them and decide they weren't worth his time, give them a standard rider and wait for a bit. Or...give them his personalized contract.
Ranni nods and takes another note. "I'd like them here within 5 minutes, can you do that?" She pauses at this and she takes out her phone. She sweeps through it and reads, nods, frowns.
"I am so sorry sir-"
"Yes?" She swallows and tenses, you didn't disappoint the King of Hell. Best case, you'd be yelled at, thrown against a wall, and dismissed with a single second chance that might even have a time limit. Best case. Worst case…
"It may take 15 minutes sir, my greatest apologies." I snort, Rowena scoffs. Crowley...
"You have ten. Finally, we need a new demon for the official architect position."
"Lionel, you mean?"
"Yes, I fired him. He was snooping in my chambers instead of actually doing his job there."
"Gross."
"Yes. Send some recruiters to architectural colleges to look for prospects. I want a list on my desk by Friday."
"Yes sir. …." There was a question on her lips, one she didn't want to ask without permission. If it wasn't completely necessary...and she didn't get permission… Well, Crowley hated wastes of time. He was in an accommodating mood at the moment though.
"Yes Ranni?"
"Can...can I spend my vacation at one of the colleges? I can snoop around and well...every college has a cheerleading team and an anime club. I could vet them both...and destroy them from the inside out if they have nothing to offer." Crowley pauses, he had succeeded. A demon that wanted to work on her vacation, to please him and because it was Fun for her.
"Add form 33d to the approval form and grab the work visa contract extension and transfer form as well. You will be added to the vetting team for this mission. Find a suitable temp for your job and send me her resume by the end of the day. Dismissed." She nods and turns to exit. "Oh, one more thing." She freezes, that was never good. "Tell the detail at my mother's prison they should meet Darana for reassignment until further notice. Also, when Croney is done fixing the door give her the form for a one day reprieve...if she wants it." Ranni exhales. It didn't have to do with her.
"Yessir."
"Also, I know you're thinking about the negative repercussions on yourself if you supply a temp that fails…" She stiffens. "So, look up optional amendment... 23C, for the temp replacement form."
"Y-yessir." I would laugh if I could. Crowley really liked this demon.
"Why, what's amendment 23C?" Asks Rowena.
Ranni continues out the door and it closes behind her and my suspicions are confirmed as Crowley watches her leave, noting how she is already going through her phone to find him the contract he wants. There is a loud thunk as the guards on the other side make sure the door shuts completely.
"It's the clause I wrote up when I was rising through the ranks. It removed all responsibility of the recruiter from the actions or failures of the temp replacement."
"So ye do like her? Do I hear wedding bells?"
"Red, I already did the marriage thing, it was wonderful, romantic, etc. Not doing it again."
"Wait, ye got married and dinnae tell me!" Says Rowena ignoring the hated nickname, but no way was Crowley going to be caught talking to his mother when she wasn't there.
"Red, I had kids again and 'dinnae' tell you. And before you ask, they will never meet you. They are not part of this world, and I have seen to it that it remains so."
"Why?" Crowley sighs.
"I want to create one thing in this world that has No relation whatsoever to the reality of the supernatural. It used to be Gavin."
"But why Fergus?" Crowley smiles.
"Because Red, Chew Toy was right. I am not a normal demon. I want my fingers in every single pie so I can take a taste whenever I want."
"What is that supposed to mean? Also, while we're talkin' about earth and things ye've put on it...Ye're letting demons out of Hell, for fun?!" Rowena is incensed, the damage they could cause if they weren't there on business...well. However, she hadn't been here for a while, she didn't really know how the new army worked.
"Red, the form for requesting a trip upstairs is 11 pages and approved only by me on a contract 3 pages long. I know where they will go, what they plan to do, and for how long. If they deviate for anything other than business or survival the approval contract tells me where they are."
"And what do ye do with that information?"
"Whatever I want. Usually I have them returned and revoke their privilege to a physical body."
"Usually?" Crowley sighs, she knew very well what the other option was. However only one of those contracts had been broken so far, because everyone was very happy with this arrangement.
"Why though?"
"Red, I am not the only one who hates the atmosphere down in Hell. Happy employees are loyal employees. I learned that the hard way." What he really meant is happy employees are loyal and adoring. They looked at him like he was a god who made their dreams come true. Sure he was cruel, but rarely for no reason. Besides, as long as it wasn't them and it wasn't too often, who cared? Demons, after all.
The door creaks open and a demon wheeling a cart comes in. The cart contains the sixteen souls from the library that were battered and weak. They would recover with time, but the theoretical threshold or tank that needed to be filled for one to turn into a demon, had already started. He looks over them in their jars and picks up the first one's dossier and contract as the other demon walks out.
An accountant who embezzled and needed a bailout from jail. Not good for any department, he had hated his job and loved and obsessed over nothing other than money, but hated working to get it. He hated working at anything. His vices, women and booze. Most certainly not compatible with any aspect of Crowley's Hell. He didn't need another entitled rapist. He also didn't really want that boring of a soul in his head for a year. He waves his hand and the jar is pushed to one side. He'd go into Crowley's personal fish tank that he kept for emergencies, like soul bomb emergencies.
He picks up the second dossier.
An actress who sold her soul for fame. He pauses, that should be someone that would be turned into a spy demon, or a recruiter. He flips through the pages. Nope. Acting was a ploy for attention for her, she wanted to be adored, not to create. That meant competition for him, but she could be interesting to have around. He waves the bottle to the other side. She would stay in a jar.
He picks up the third, and pauses. Alexa. A girl barely 23. That means she was 13 when she made a deal. He flips through and sighs. She had sold her soul to fix her brother's leukemia. This was one of the more annoying contract types. Innocent soul asking for something for someone else and then getting pulled down in ten years. He hated these. The people rarely made good demons. He continues to flip through and he cocks his head, eyes interested. Before she died she had gained an appreciation for older buildings, drawing them specifically. It wasn't a vice, but it was something she did with enough frequency to call it an obsession. It had some possibilities.
"For what Fergus?"
He sets it aside from the others, ignoring her.
He is about to pick up the fourth when the door opens. He looks up and Ranni comes in with a mildly annoyed crossroads demon and a human with overalls and a missing tooth. The mortal is unimpressive and doddering, but Crowley had stopped judging on initial impressions ages ago. People faked those, or they only portrayed half of someone. Robert Singer was proof of that. There were too many ways initial impressions were problematic, so if he had the time, he never trusted them.
The group stops feet from the throne and the demons bow, but the crossroads demon bows slightly less. She is annoyed, this was supposed to be a notch on her belt, not the king's.
"Sana. I know this one was yours, so here." He points to the jar with Alexa in it. "Take this one. Personal use." Sana looks up at this, curious. The king didn't give away things for free, no matter how appreciative she was. "Demonize her, quickly. Then send her to Ranni to join the new architectural team." At this Sana nods, while Ranni looks confused, for about half a second.
"Thank you lord. I will take great pl-"
"I don't care. Just do it...quickly." He points to the jar and she quickly walks up and takes it, then promptly leaves. Ranni looks at Crowley, makes a note, nods for affirmation, and then begins to walk out. She pauses before she reaches the door.
"How many on the architectural team for now my lord?"
"Three to start. See if you can find a teacher along with a student at the same college. Let's see how they do." She nods, takes another note and walks out, closing the door behind her this time.
Crowley looks at the human, who is unbound, standing up straight, and confused.
"So, you'd like to make a deal?"
"Y-yes?"
"So, what do you want?" Crowley stands and both Rowena and I watch the play about to take place, because Crowley always put on a show whether he intended to or not.
"To not be in debt?"
"That's all? Not to be insanely rich, not for the loan sharks to be dead? Just...no debt?" The man shakes his head in affirmation.
"I-I don't git the fun of building it up if I gots it already." Now, that was interesting. Crowley walks up to the man and regards him with more than a little interest. The man keeps talking nervously. "I gots a lotta money, I just gots more debt. Wasn't even frem gamblin."
"Then from what?" At this the young man's eyes widen and he takes a very deep breath.
"Student loans. Got dere claws in me deep. Won't fucking ledgo eider." I sigh, Crowley sighs, Rowena is confused. The astronomical cost of learning was one of the few things Hell hadn't actually done. Crowley wanted various levels of intelligence, different deals, different types of vices, different types of demons. And America generated the most deals right now, but...the insane cost of learning meant not as many people got the chance to become interesting or useful. Perhaps he could get some deals for eradicating student loans though.
He muses upon my thought for a second before nodding to the young man.
"And what did you go to college for?"
"Uh...well my parents wanted me ta go fer farm economics…"
"But…?"
"Uh, I went inta chemistry and microbiology. Ta help create better pesticides that don't hurt things cept they supposed ta hurt." Crowley nods, he was right, there was more to the kid than his appearance.
"And you like to gamble? What's your poison?"
"Poker or hearts I guess."
"You guess?"
"Well, if I could gamble playing chess I would, but it's not really that type a game." Crowley wasn't really one for games, at least board games. He played bigger ones, but this was still impressive.
"People constantly underestimate you, don't they?"
"Why you think I'm wearing overalls instead of a fancy suit?" Crowley frowns. He wanted a contract for himself, but this kid was too good of a prospective demon to use for that. However...if his only vice was gambling…
"And what do you like about gambling? The risk, the tension?" The kid laughs.
"No, I could git dat by goin on a fuckin rollercoaster. Nah, tricken and beaten people outta dere money when dey tink dey're better dan you? Now dat's a high." There it was, crossroads demon material. Crowley nods in approval.
"You know who I am?"
"Dey didn't tell me, but I'm gonna guess someone high up. Reason I'm bein so forth-commin." Crowley tilts his head.
"How so?"
"Sir, ifn yer a demon, a high up one, lyin ain't gonna get me noffin. Yer here ta give me what I want, in exchange fer a soul. Well I gots a soul, but if I'm talkin to a higher up I got chances of negotiatin. Lyin won't help me make a deal."
"And what do you want to negotiate on?"
"I'm bettin I can get you more dan jest mine. My soul I mean. So I keep mine an"
"Pass." At this the kid starts, and gulps.
"I thought you...you would want more souls."
"Oh, I do, but I want you as a permanent employee too. Counter offer. You do what you're saying, collect souls for me, and I won't, personally, collect yours until the end of your natural life, Not ten years."
"I...didn't know the deals were for that short a time."
"People usually don't know. Now...deal?"
"Why...why you want mine so much?"
"Because, I want you to continue doing what you love long after you die. Tricking people out of their belongings, forever. Doesn't that sound fun?" The kid turns his head as Crowley circles him and finally stands still back where he started. He ponders then holds out his hand.
"You gotta deal mister." Crowley shakes his head.
"It's a bit more intimate than that." The kid blinks. "What, you've come so far and you'll back out because-"
"Naw, I'm jest wondering if my boyfriend'll mind." Crowley looks at the kid in pleasant surprise. "Naw, he'll have to do it too anyway." The nameless future demon continues at the questioning expression on Crowley's face. "I play people at poker, he brings the drinks...and info on odder people's hands if da pot is big enough. He's ma partner, heaven or Hell. Knows I'm makin da deal after all. Jeb's probably worried sick, he was gonna pick me up an hour ago." This, now this was a depraved human.
"Good thing you chose Hell then, everyone gets seperate rooms in heaven. ...A demonic love affair. Romantic. So, we'll have us a kiss, and then I'll come find you say... tomorrow midnight, to do a deal with Jeb?" The kid nods. "So, I don't usually kiss people whose name I don't know, so?"
"Uh, Charles, and same." The kid looks at Crowley shakily, just a tad overwhelmed now that the deal was actually happening, and seemingly involved his boyfriend. He was confident when it was all theoretical. Crowley just takes a step closer.
"Darling, I'm the King of Hell."
….
Crowley muses over the jars, disappointed he didn't get the contract he wanted, but quite satisfied that he got two souls out of what was supposed to be a single one; and would probably get more. Still, he felt a bit 'naked' without a full contract. He had me, but it was a spark that would draw him back, and he didn't like it, even if it worked. He sighs and looks at the cart with the souls.
Overall 12 of the souls are going into the fishtank, two are being kept in jars, and one is in his hands as he contemplates something. I know what it is, so Rowena feels my idea.
"Fergus! No, we just got three out of you and court is in half an hour!" He sighs, but sets the soul down. He stands and looks around for a moment before we-
Are in Hell. His room specifically. The warding there didn't affect him after all, not anymore. There is a growl from the right.
"Calm Growley. It's just Daddy." The growling stops and turns into a whine. "Yes, I promise you will have a job soon." Crowley walks to the painting, and soon the hidden cupboard is open.
"Fergus, so many!" Crowley rolls his eyes as he puts the 13 souls into the fishtank.
"Mother, this isn't half what my collection was before it was raided."
"Fergus, I don't care about that, the x-demons-" There is a jolt of pain through our world, and Rowena is silenced.
"I'll ask for your opinion, Mother, about my eating habits if I want to hear it. I'll admit you were right about 6 fresh souls being too many, but... shut up." The three going on the shelf are carefully arranged there before two more are added. Two of the ones from the fight earlier are put there as well; and Don, who is giving Crowley a headache. That meant that somewhere in here the artist and a demon were being slowly and methodically torn apart. "The one who wore my suit." Of course, yeah that was kinda gross to do. Crowley looks at the souls and ponders something.
Does he need a physical example at this meeting? Proof that this indeed how he punishes those who betray him?
I mean, show and tell always made me happy as a kid.
"It's far scarier than jest hearing about it darlin. Jest refrain from eating it in front of anyone."
"Mother, I'm an addict, not an idiot." He grabs one of the two demons and closes the cupboard. The jar is placed in...wherever he sends things to wait for him to use them, and he looks at the ceiling where there was supposed to be a devil's trap.
"Growley, I know you love being in daddy's room, but how about we make you your own?" There is a whine and Crowley sighs, looking at the giant hound. "I have a job for you. Man named Charles. Guard him until I come. Can you do that for daddy?" There is a growl and the hound is gone, just like a demon. Crowley sighs. "Ok. No other demon is using this body, ever. That can be solved with a few tattoos on an intestine, but… another time. Croney's birthday is coming up, she always did enjoy pulling my intestines apart, a few tattoos during that..."
Ew, and ow.
"Fergus, that is a dangerous position to-"
"Do shut up, both of you. Just visiting happy memories. I'll be doing it myself, on the ribs. The more immediate problem... No demon is coming into my room without my permission. Ever."
"Not even for-"
"Mother, do you see a bed? Or chains? Or anything remotely fun in here? No. I have another room for that. Doubles as a torture chamber. And if I ever get the inclination to use it, you will be promptly kicked out into a jar for the entire experience. One of the few kinks I don't have, will never have, and do not want to have, is anything involving blood family, especially you. Now...again, without interruptions, Chew Toy...How do I paint on the ceiling...and not ruin my suit?"
Slowly Crowley. Slowly.
….
We reach the courtroom with 43 seconds to spare. Crowley sits on his throne and takes out the jar from the air. He sets it on the arm for all to see, and we wait. Rowena begins to speak but...
"Red, you talk at all during this, and I will strip you apart atom by atom, put you back together, dump you in a blender, then use that to make a bloody mary, and Drink it."
"Rude, but fine."
"Demon. And last warning." The doors open and demons file in. The room is filled within moments and the variety there astounds me. There is more diversity in this room right now than I've ever seen topside before. Crowley had called back more than he had ever previously. For any meeting besides the one that was mandatory for the entirety of Hell.
"Ladies, gentlemen, other. There have been rumors in the ranks that I have been turning demon souls human." There is silence. "I am here to put those rumors to rest… They are true." Hushed whispers, nervous energy, shuffling, and a bit of pressing against the door. The demons don't quite know how they should react to this. A few don't care, but most are either scared, or curious. The latter was more dangerous. Crowley holds the jar up.
"This, was Bonard. He is now, once again, Stephan J Townsen, and he, betrayed me. He, and three others, stole my body, conspired against me, and seeded distrust in my ranks. This, this is their punishment." Once again, silence. "I'm sure you're wondering why." There are a few nods and murmurs. "I'll answer that question with one of my own. How many hear like the idea of having a molten hot rod drawn across their bare flesh?" Again silence. "Don't be shy, you're Demons." A few raise their hands. "And how many like knives?" A few others raise their hands. "So...does that seem a very good punishment for a demon? No, not really. I'd say this is far worse. Sitting in a jar, alone, with nothing but yourself, to slowly rot and weaken. That is the punishment that awaits those who cross me."
A timid, but brave, voice in the back pops up.
"So what do you do with them?"
"I just told you! Now, in lighter news I will be introducing a new type of contract within the next week. A two for one. A contract for couples. Those who wish to be on the research team for it, report to my office at one AM tomorrow... Dismissed."
The room is empty within moments. And Crowley sits back and examines the jar.
"Well, that was an interesting few days."
