Jageskro (
jageskro) wrote in
londoncallingrpg2016-01-19 12:46 am
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Entry tags:
OTA
It was like an itch you knew you weren't supposed to scratch. A lot of things had become clearer to Jag, about himself, since he'd watched Hex's videos, and somehow, the closer it came to the time Val would be back, the more Jag wanted to give in to his 'old' habits and do something really stupid. Start a bar in a fight with an arsehole or two, and get hurt.
It was as far from healthy as he could get, he realised, and that was why he hadn't started a bar fight in over a month now. He was in a bar right now, having a pint and trying to resist the desire to walk over to the bastards in the booth right behind him. Their racist, homophobic conversation wasn't making it easy on him. He was waiting for the misogyny to make an appearance, really. He'd barely touched his pint in the last ten minutes and was gnawing on his thumb's nail, feet propped on his bar stool, one leg bouncing.
It was as far from healthy as he could get, he realised, and that was why he hadn't started a bar fight in over a month now. He was in a bar right now, having a pint and trying to resist the desire to walk over to the bastards in the booth right behind him. Their racist, homophobic conversation wasn't making it easy on him. He was waiting for the misogyny to make an appearance, really. He'd barely touched his pint in the last ten minutes and was gnawing on his thumb's nail, feet propped on his bar stool, one leg bouncing.
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"What would you truly like to do right now? You should do that," Crowley replied with a sly, oily smile.
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"Oh, go on. You're a bully fellow. I would wager you have a better chance than you think," he replied smoothly. He could make certain of that. "You're burning to do it. I can tell."
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"Oh, I have no vested interest. I just think people should be a bit freer with indulging their urges," the demon replied. "And they're so rude. Go on...teach them a lesson, friend."
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Walking over to that table and asking them whether they made such a thing out of hating poofs because they secretly wanted dick was enough for one of them to throw the first punch, and Jag fully expected to take a beating. There were three of them, after all, and one of them was big. But somehow, despite taking a few licks, they all ended up on the floor by the time the bartender managed to stop the fight.
Jag was breathing hard, his lip was split, and he could feel a bruise forming on his cheekbone. A few more parts of his anatomy hurt, where they'd landed punches, and he docilely let the bartender throw him out of the pub, grabbing his jacket on his way and frowning as he was pulled towards the exit, simply not understanding how he was the one still standing.
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Crowley watched the fight with a slim, tight smile. Of course the man won, it wouldn't be sporting to goad someone into a fight just so they could be beaten. No, better to have him come out of it on a high note.
As the man went outside, the demon followed. Immediately out the door he produced a cigarette the smoke curled from, though he hadn't apparently lit it.
"Now wasn't that fun?" he purred. "Don't you feel better?"
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The bartender insisted he move on, and Jag glared back at him before taking a few steps down the street.
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Crowley knew his kind and was certain beyond measure the boy was no demon. But he sensed he was special.
"Hardly," he said. "I've no idea what you're talking about."
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"Mm, if you say so," Crowley replied. "What I'm curious about is why you'd show that to a stranger. I could be anyone, fire bug."
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"Touche, dear boy. Touche," he replied. Crowley took a deep drag and exhaled as he spoke, the smoke rolling out of his mouth with his words.
"But I can promise you, I'm not your kind."
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"I'm Anthony J. Crowley, at your service," he said, giving the lad who but not what.
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The demon wrinkled his nose in distaste at the nick name and took another drag.
"Isn't it more fun if you guess?" he replied evasively.
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Crowley smiled then, a wide toothy smile with just enough room for his pink forked tongue to flicker out.
"Do you believe in Heaven and Hell, dear boy?" he asked. You never knew these days. It wasn't like the old days when everyone believed. Now Crowley had to be creative in this increasingly secular world.
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He stopped walking. And stared. "You're..."
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"Yes. I am," Crowley nodded with a sly smirk.
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"I told you I wasn't like you," he replied.
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Crowley leaned closer and inhaled deeply, breathing the scent of him loudly.
"No, not even a little," he said. "But you are something special."
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