[ Maybe it'd been naïve of him to think he could've had five minutes to enjoy their little triumph over the forces of Heaven and Hell before the next bout of bullshit, and yet. And yet!!
He cuts Frigg's spiel short, hardly registering the names of some half-remembered piddling little primitive deities before he's storming out of the room they've got him in and into... a festival?
Alright. This is happening. Not the sort of thing he typically goes in for, doubly not after being kidnapped, but he does weave through the tables calling, ]
Aziraphale!
[ Because Crowley can't find him, not in the way he's always been able to before, but he's trying not to panic, because he has to be here.
A little later, Crowley does settle down and assess the situation. Something's— been done to him. What was that mad woman saying, about magic? They've somehow shut him into his own vessel, blindfolded him, left him feeling like the proverbial ten pounds of shit in a thimble-sized bag, and there's this heaviness in the pit of his stomach he can't yet identify... but he absolutely knows what he's in the mood for.
Unfortunately, but at this point unsurprisingly, none of the liquids he glares at deign to transmute themselves into anything alcoholic. Not even cider.
Asking whomever's closest, or maybe just the air, with feeling, ]
Where're they keeping the... what are these, the bloody Visigoths... Vikings?— mead?
❧ ii. just my two cents
[ He won't intentionally participate in the game at first, doesn't even know it's happening because he wasn't paying the least amount of attention, but Crowley can be caught anywhere around the city, accidentally picking up any sort of innocuous item and startling at his suddenly-empty hand, ]
What?
[ He'll try his damnedest to resist the pull of the curse, but it's useless. Or: maybe you're the one who's found the coin, and he might be laughing at you. Truth or dare! ]
❧ iii. mimir-y, all alone in the moonlight
[ One way or another, he lands up with Mimir, even if they have to drag him kicking and screaming.
And although he's been a bloody-minded contrarian about all this "god" shit, eventually boredom, curiosity, and basic necessity draw him into the district. Aimless exploration leads him into Firar Samka, where he wanders amongst the stone halls, reading up on alternate realities, increasingly with something approaching genuine wonder in his expression... until he realizes he's not alone in here.
Later, in Mimirhaus, he opens the door to his assigned room— ]
No.
I'm not living in that.
❧ iv. wildcard
[ Anything's good. Hit me up via PM or at bechamel if you wanna plot! ]
crowley | good omens | ota
He cuts Frigg's spiel short, hardly registering the names of some half-remembered piddling little primitive deities before he's storming out of the room they've got him in and into... a festival?
Alright. This is happening. Not the sort of thing he typically goes in for, doubly not after being kidnapped, but he does weave through the tables calling, ]
Aziraphale!
[ Because Crowley can't find him, not in the way he's always been able to before, but he's trying not to panic, because he has to be here.
A little later, Crowley does settle down and assess the situation. Something's— been done to him. What was that mad woman saying, about magic? They've somehow shut him into his own vessel, blindfolded him, left him feeling like the proverbial ten pounds of shit in a thimble-sized bag, and there's this heaviness in the pit of his stomach he can't yet identify... but he absolutely knows what he's in the mood for.
Unfortunately, but at this point unsurprisingly, none of the liquids he glares at deign to transmute themselves into anything alcoholic. Not even cider.
Asking whomever's closest, or maybe just the air, with feeling, ]
Where're they keeping the... what are these, the bloody Visigoths... Vikings?— mead?
❧ ii. just my two cents
What?
[ He'll try his damnedest to resist the pull of the curse, but it's useless. Or: maybe you're the one who's found the coin, and he might be laughing at you. Truth or dare! ]
❧ iii. mimir-y, all alone in the moonlight
And although he's been a bloody-minded contrarian about all this "god" shit, eventually boredom, curiosity, and basic necessity draw him into the district. Aimless exploration leads him into Firar Samka, where he wanders amongst the stone halls, reading up on alternate realities, increasingly with something approaching genuine wonder in his expression... until he realizes he's not alone in here.
Later, in Mimirhaus, he opens the door to his assigned room— ]
No.
I'm not living in that.
❧ iv. wildcard