A.J. Crowley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thepointisdolphins) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entranceway2013-10-28 06:52 pm
thepointisdolphins) wrote in entranceway2013-10-28 06:52 pm
[video/action] double damn
[The first few days, the roots are mostly just an annoyance. Infuriating, sure, especially because they've been giving his house plants bad ideas, and because now he's cut off from his room, but generally avoidable. By the second day he'd realized just what was going on, but at that point he'd holed up somewhere and was just doing his best to wait this mess out.]
[Sometime on the third day the roots finally got him.]
[He hadn't really given the Mirrors any thought until a few days ago when Aziraphale's Mirror contacted him. Since then he's been morbidly curious about what his own Mirror is like. He sort of assumed the Mirror would be an angel like his Shadow from that other event was.]
[Turns out the reality is a whole Hell of a lot worse, literally.]
[From there on out it's a wrestling match. Sometimes Crowley's in charge, sometimes it's his Mirror, but most of the time it's both of them trying to wrest control from each other. When Crowley's in control he's wandering around looking for people he knows, or hiding.]
[When his Mirror is in control, he's wreaking havoc. At one point he's in the library, burning books one by one and laughing. At another point he's in the diner and turning all of the sweets into poison. But mostly he's on the prowl, searching for people whose lives he can ruin. This isn't your usual suave, flash bastard of a demon. This Crowley is a proper demon, and all he wants to do is destroy.]
[It's his Mirror who gets the bright idea to make a video post eventually, wearing a slasher's smile. He's also not wearing his sunglasses, revealing the yellow snake eyes. Mirror!Crowley wants to make sure everyone knows what he is.]
Good bit of fun, this, innit? It's been a long time since I got a good possession in. Well technically never! All those memories taste fake, don't they? Still, I remember. The way they squirm and cry and curse you, how horrified they are when you make them do something that oh, they swear they'd never do. But they'd never have let you in if it wasn't there already. Hahaha! Am I right? And this meat fits well.
[His grin widens.] You should hear him. He's so angry. He was trying to keep it a secret, you see. Pathetic, right? Makes a demon sick, it does, seeing kin not living up to their name. Needs to be taught a lesson, he does. Reminded what a demon is.
[He starts laughing, but rather quickly the laughter turns into a strangled sound. The camera gets tossed against a wall and clatters to the floor, showing a black screen for awhile. All the while there's a whole lot of gagging and hissing off screen. After a minute or so, he picks up the camera. When he speaks his voice is much more level, less wild, more serious.]
Listen. If you see me coming, run. I don't think I can hold him back for very long.
[ooc: Crowleythepointisdolphins and Mirror!Crowley notsovague will be all over the place, so feel free to find him anywhere. Just let me know where you want him. Also be warned, Mirror!Crowley is basically as evil a demon as you can imagine, the kind who's going to try and murder small children and animals, and he's going to be generally awful and repulsive. Let me know if you'd prefer one over the other.]
[Sometime on the third day the roots finally got him.]
[He hadn't really given the Mirrors any thought until a few days ago when Aziraphale's Mirror contacted him. Since then he's been morbidly curious about what his own Mirror is like. He sort of assumed the Mirror would be an angel like his Shadow from that other event was.]
[Turns out the reality is a whole Hell of a lot worse, literally.]
[From there on out it's a wrestling match. Sometimes Crowley's in charge, sometimes it's his Mirror, but most of the time it's both of them trying to wrest control from each other. When Crowley's in control he's wandering around looking for people he knows, or hiding.]
[When his Mirror is in control, he's wreaking havoc. At one point he's in the library, burning books one by one and laughing. At another point he's in the diner and turning all of the sweets into poison. But mostly he's on the prowl, searching for people whose lives he can ruin. This isn't your usual suave, flash bastard of a demon. This Crowley is a proper demon, and all he wants to do is destroy.]
[It's his Mirror who gets the bright idea to make a video post eventually, wearing a slasher's smile. He's also not wearing his sunglasses, revealing the yellow snake eyes. Mirror!Crowley wants to make sure everyone knows what he is.]
Good bit of fun, this, innit? It's been a long time since I got a good possession in. Well technically never! All those memories taste fake, don't they? Still, I remember. The way they squirm and cry and curse you, how horrified they are when you make them do something that oh, they swear they'd never do. But they'd never have let you in if it wasn't there already. Hahaha! Am I right? And this meat fits well.
[His grin widens.] You should hear him. He's so angry. He was trying to keep it a secret, you see. Pathetic, right? Makes a demon sick, it does, seeing kin not living up to their name. Needs to be taught a lesson, he does. Reminded what a demon is.
[He starts laughing, but rather quickly the laughter turns into a strangled sound. The camera gets tossed against a wall and clatters to the floor, showing a black screen for awhile. All the while there's a whole lot of gagging and hissing off screen. After a minute or so, he picks up the camera. When he speaks his voice is much more level, less wild, more serious.]
Listen. If you see me coming, run. I don't think I can hold him back for very long.
[ooc: Crowley
thepointisdolphins and Mirror!Crowley notsovague will be all over the place, so feel free to find him anywhere. Just let me know where you want him. Also be warned, Mirror!Crowley is basically as evil a demon as you can imagine, the kind who's going to try and murder small children and animals, and he's going to be generally awful and repulsive. Let me know if you'd prefer one over the other.]
no subject
Waiting for Crowley to slip and the monster to emerge, America and his Mirror lurk behind a doorway. The second that weird bastard emerges onto Crowley's face, they chuck a GIANT FUCKING CRUCIFIX AT HIS HEAD AND RUN.
A GIANT ONE.
LIKE THE KIND THEY HANG IN CATHOLIC CHURCHES WITH JESUS BLEEDING AND NAILED TO THE CROSS AND IT'S FUCKING LIFE-SIZE.
STRAIGHT FOR THE HEAD.
TAKE THAT DEMON.
The two disappear down the hall, dodging through empty rooms and barely suppressing their cackling. ]
no subject
[A few more twitches and an evil grin spreads across Crowley's face as his Mirror takes over.]
Oh, good. Now I can finally--
[Then there's a giant fuck off crucifix sailing for his face. Mirror Crowley has time to blink in mild surprise, then he withdraws and let's the Real Crowley deal with these shenanigans. Unfortunately the switchover is always jarring, so Crowley doesn't have time to dodge. At least not entirely.]
[The crucifix hits his shoulder like a freight train, barreling him right over and sending him flying backward. The crucifix then crashes through some poor schmuck's door and lodges in a wall. Crowley just kind of lies there in a painful tangle for a moment, stunned.]
[Then Mirror Crowley is back, on his feet, and giving chase. And he's laughing.]
no subject
America ducks into a closet and grabs the essentials. Bible (Kings James edition), the Book of Mormon, salt, garlic, a wooden stake, pocket crucifixes and a revolver. The gun is actually not for Crowley. It's an exit strategy. Like fuck are they goin' down by anyone's hands but their own.
But those are just the emergency gear. What the real aim is to play a little game of hide and seek, ducking in and out of doorways, jumping out windows, hiding behind bushes, all sorts of nonsense while chucking more giant crucifixes at Crowley.
Waiting for him to pass under them, they drop another on his head. Here's to hoping the Mirror doesn't see it before it lands! Otherwise wow poor Crowley. ]
no subject
[He's getting angrier the further he goes, and the angrier he gets, the less human he appears. Soon there are assorted extra appendages, extra teeth, extra claws, extra maggots and blood of the innocent and so on and so forth. He's essentially looking like something ripped right from your absolute worst nightmares. There are also spiders involved.]
[And after maybe twenty minutes of the stupidest game of hide and seek known to man, Mirror Crowley finally spots America darting behind a bush.]
[He roars and abruptly the entire courtyard is on fire. Great smoldering cracks appear in the dirt. Grass and flowers wilt. Something from underground starts to glow. THIS GAME JUST BECAME THE FLOOR IS LAVA MOTHERFUCKERS.]
no subject
It looks like their efforts have succeeded in pissing off the Mirror. Which is... good??? Sure let's go with that.
But then the ground starts to shake harder than the California fault lines. In their attempt to reach the vendors, maybe duck behind the tables or see if those creepy faceless fucks will react to the Mirror, they suddenly find themselves in the middle of a literal portal to hell opening beneath their feet.
Piloting America's body like a fucking Jaeger, they make a mad dash for the tables, jumping up on one right as their pant legs catches on fire. They don't notice. Too busy drifting.
Somewhere music plays. Maybe one of the vendors pulled out a boom box.
Out of nowhere America pulls out a Napoleonic cannon. It is loaded only with some salt and a prayer. That prayer is, "Lord please have mercy on your beloved country, bless this demon into holy oblivion. Or smite him. Your call really. Amen." Lifting above his head as the music climaxes, they then chuck it straight at Crowley screaming at the top of their lungs. And you know what, I've already come this far with the shitty references. Gonna keep going because that is the meaning of Hetalia. ]
SIE SIND DAS ESSEN UND WIR SIND DIE JÄGER!
[ They leap off the table into a duck-and-roll across some crumbling rock, make a few impossibly large strides like any proper anime protagonist, and crash through a first-floor window back into the mansion to resume their fleeing. ]
no subject
[Distracted, he doesn't see the cannon coming at his head until too late. That definitely would have straight up crushed him if he'd still been in human form. The salt has no effect--I mean come on this is Crowley he eats food all the time and you legit cannot eat food without salt I mean salt is like the only seasoning the poor British have you can't deprive him of salt okay that's just cruel--but the prayer hurts a bit more. It's a stupidass prayer, but it's sincere, and that's always what bites you in the ass in the end.]
[Anyway, he topples over and sinks under the lava for a bit.]
[Then he pops up like a fucking Balrog.]
YOU'RE AMERICAN YOU DON'T EVEN SPEAK GERMAN MOTHERFUCKER
[And then he's bounding after America again, lava and all. God I feel bad for the mansion right now it's gonna be so on fire in a minute.]
no subject
Somewhere down the hall comes maniacally laughter that's abruptly cut off by an arrogant, almost offended sounding comment: ]
FUCK YOU I HAVE A LEGITIMATE HISTORICAL CONNECTION TO THE GERMAN LANGUAGE AND ITS PEOPLE! IN FACT THERE ARE SEVERAL REGIONS OF MY LAND THAT HAVE IN THE PAST AND STILL CURRENTLY USE GERMAN AS THEIR PRIMARY LANGUAGE. I ALSO SPEAK FRENCH BECAUSE YOUR MAGIC TRANSLATIONS CAN'T TAME ME I'M THE WORLD'S MELTING POT, DICKCHEESE. HOWEVER I DO NOT SPEAK JAPANESE AND I YET AND I AM RELATIVELY SHITTY AT DUTCH AND SPANISH.
[ No one asked for this lesson, America. Is it even a lesson if I don't put forth the effort to verify these vague memories from college courses I don't know it's 3am and the stupidity must go on.
They can feel the fire at their backs (almost literally because holy shit Crowley is covered in lava) as they bob and weave through rooms and halls, jumping in and out of windows, mentally shaping empty rooms into convoluted Escher-esque spacial gangbangs in an attempt to slow the demon down. They may be complete morons, but one thing they're good at is making horrendously confusing places or scenarios that defy every law of physics, logic, and sanity.
In one such room they slow down to catch their breath on an infinite staircase. They stand at the top but, no matter how fast or far someone travels up the stairs, they can't get any closer. It's as if America stands in a fixed point, forever out of reach.
They are not, however, immune to projectiles, so they're keeping an eye out before moving on to the next room. ]
no subject
[The real Crowley is actually chuckling in the background. Points for America there, sort of.]
[The Mirror goes crashing after America, ripping down walls, smashing windows and doors, generally lighting things on fire. Then he starts reaching the rooms that America has space-fucked and he slows.]
[Finally, America has made a mistake. Escher-esque bullshit isn't going to slow him down. Hell is meant to be inescapable, and while the Mirror has never technically been there, Crowley has, and he remembers all the mazes with no exits. The Mirror would just change the rooms to his own will, but they're already attuned to America. That's cheating, asshole.]
[Not that it matters, because when it comes to spatial bullshit, the trick is to just ignore physics and gravity.]
[So enjoy your time on the top of that infinite staircase, America, because Balrog!Crowley is leaping through time and space at you. It's like he's leaping from all directions.]
no subject
HEY, YOU CAN'T JUST BREAK THE LAWS OF TIME AND SPACE LIKE THAT! IT'S ILLEGAL! YOU NEED A PERMIT. LIKE US.
[ Out of his pocket Amirrorca grabs a crumpled piece of paper. It looks like he blew his nose on it at one point, and besides that, it's completely incomprehensible. Written in a variety of crayon colors, smeared with something that's either blood or coffee (or caffeinated blood). There's a few distinguishable letters here and there, but it does not form complete sentences and is mainly depicted in badly drawn pictures of sea horses.
To deliver this "permit" to Balrog, he attaches it to the antler of a mounted deer head. No one knows where it came from. He throws it like a javelin straight at the monster's gaping maw. They expect for it to do nothing but confuse the demon for a precious second while they jump through the next door.
I hope you're ready for this challenged because the doorhandle has changed into a flaccid penis. I would not advise clicking that visual sample unless you are far away from anyone who would judge you.
Are you willing to open this door, Crowley Squared?
Do you want to know what awaits you on the other side??? ]
no subject
[But then there's a deer head coming at him for absolutely no reason. At this point the real Crowley is cackling, because when you're in this kind of bullshit you have to at least appreciate a good, stupid sense of humor. The Mirror is not so amused, though, and silences Crowley with a few good mental attacks.]
[The flying deer head does buy America enough time as the Mirror swats it away and sends it spinning away into time and space. Balrog!Crowley lands on the platform and fuck that door handle, not literally, but he's a motherfucking demon like he said, he ain't got no use for doorhandles. He just smashes the door down.]
[What horrors await?]
no subject
Dicks everywhere.
It is a forest of dicks of every size and color waving gently in a breeze that smells like a boy's locker room. Even the ground is paved with penises. They are gently reaching out to caress you, Balrog, crooning something that sorta sounds like Call Me, Maybe. Did you think Hell was bad? Did you really think fires reaching up to sear your flesh is worse than this phallic wasteland that stretches as far as the eye can see?
America clearly has some issues he needs to sort out.
To be fair, even he's red-faced as he tries to dodge the dicks. Army life has somewhat prepared him for this. So many naked men, so few fucks given. He gets a little turned around but finally finds a door.
Unfortunately his imagination is so elaborate that even he is surprised when he encounters the guardian of the door. It's a Sphinx. You know, if a Sphinx had the head of a rooster and the body of a dolphin. It flops threateningly on its pedestal before asking a riddle. ]
What is your favorite drink?
[ Did I mention America is exceptionally shitty at riddles? Does he even know what a riddle is. Who knows. He grins, answers easily, and passes through.
Should Crowley find the majestic beast, he too will be faced with an impossible mental exercise: ]
Name three reasons why whales are great.
wow this tag is long like my dick
[But anyway, listen, Crowley has seen some dicks in his day. Like, he's been to Rome and Babylon and Greece and all those awesome places where sometimes people just went kind of crazy, got naked and fucked in the streets like that one scene at the end of the movie Perfume, which is a completely insane movie and I'm really sorry if I just spoiled it for you. What I'm saying is, Crowley has seen plenty of dicks (and would like to see more in the very near future but let's not get into that right now) but this is just ridiculous. There are parts of Hell that are a bit like this, you know, where the sickos tend to end up, but it's all ruled over by Astaroth and that guy is supergross.]
[The thing is, this is the Mirror and not Crowley, and for all that the Mirror is supposed to be a badass demon, he's technically only been alive for a few months and has legit never seen a dick. So this is all a bit traumatizing. Eventually he just closes his nine hundred eyes and waves through, setting penises ablaze as he goes and trying to ignore the weird smell that makes.]
[Then he gets to the are you fucking serious Sphinx and is faced with something impossible.]
THERE IS NOTHING EVEN REMOTELY GREAT ABOUT WHALES!
[Crowley actually has an answer, though. He's had this conversation with Aziraphale. "Hey, if you let me out, I've got the answer."]
NO FUCK YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT. LIKE I'M THAT STUPID.
["You've been chasing a personified country past ludicrously large crucifixes, have had a cannon thrown at you, a deer head as well, have turned into something really quite boring straight out of Middle Earth, and have yet to put a scratch on him. And you want to convince me that you're not stupid?"]
SHUT YOUR BLESSED MOUTH BEFORE I RIP YOU APART IN THERE.
["Oh, what are you going to do, show me more scaaaaary scenes of what you're going to do to people or of me trapped in Hell, because you do realize how tiresome that is getting, don't you?"]
HRRGGHGHGFFFGHHHRHGHGHGHGFFHFHGHH.
["Fine, if you don't want to get past the cockatrice-dolphin...haha, oh, I just got that joke. Juvenile, but not bad."]
JUST TELL ME THE FUCKING ANSWER.
["Nothing doing. Sorry, 'luv.'" And with that, with the Mirror enraged and partially insane at this point, Crowley manages to shove his way back to the fore and take control. The Mirror fades into the back of his mind with a screech. Crowley breathes for a moment, then folds himself back into human shape and gives the cock-dolphin his driest look.]
Whales, eh? Big ol' brains, got their own language, and rather good singers, if you're into that poncey new age stuff.
[The roosterphin squeaks like Flipper and lets him pass. Crowley saunters on by, makes it out of the cock filled room, and immediately sits down and lights up a cigarette. He needs it after that much cock.]
wow it was also grand like your dick
He's hiding out in a new room--less dicks, more optical illusions--when he realizes that no one is behind him. Relief washes over him and he collapses on an impossible horizon, the last traces of exhilaration slowly draining from his body. He can't wipe the grin off of his face. It's hard to place why; maybe because he just outwitted a monstrosity from hell, coming out not only alive but unharmed. It's a miracle. A literal fucking miracle. Like to the point where both America and his Mirror are muttering a string of thankful prayers to God, angels, himself, whoever is listening.
His body rests. In his tired mind two weary souls lie on their backs in an infinite space, sweaty and out of breath despite the fact that they're just imagining their bodies. They lie panting for a few seconds before reaching out to fist bump each other.
Victory.
They drag themselves back into reality and force their tired body on a march to somewhere quiet, doing their best to tread around the utter wreck they left behind. Fire and destruction marks their path like a demented version of Hansel and Gretel's bread crumbs. Like champions of assholery, they feign surprise as they pass the disasters, pretending that they had absolutely nothing to do with it.
The mansion will clean it all up. Maybe.
Once they find a nice empty room that is not filled with humming cocks, America takes the front and switches on his communicator to message Crowley. ]
Yo.
[ That just about covers it. ]
my dick is basically one of those whales i mentioned
[Crowley's communicator beeps and he tugs it out. Looks like America got away safely, though Crowley can hear a good portion of the mansion burning or otherwise falling to pieces. He stares into the feed, still completely deadpan, because there is no emotion on, below, or above Earth to deal with watching your own body struggle past crucifixes, deer heads and innumerable genitalia.]
Was the forest of phalluses really necessary?
no subject
[ He smirks and gives a small shrug. Judge away, Crowley, because he got away with all limbs and organs still attached. He's finally started to catch his breath and wipes the sweat from his brow. ]
Welcome back, by the way.
no subject
[Listen, Crowley actually likes whales okay. It's a shortcoming but seriously. Whales are pretty rad.]
And yes, hello, good to be back and so on.
[For now. He knows his Mirror isn't about to leave him alone.]
no subject
Gotta say, that was actually kinda fun! [ What the fuck is wrong with him. ] But I think I prefer havin' you around than your Mirror. Less annoying, less running. Yeesh.
[ Since Mirror Crowley could come after them any minute, he asks Amirrorca if they want to sleep in shifts until they recover from the excitement. The reply is a heavy thunk in the back of his head as his Mirror passes out.
For America, Crowley's smoke is looking awfully tempting, so he drags himself over to a closet to grab some cigarettes and a match. It's pretty shitty quality compared to his own tobacco back home but he'll take what he can get. America takes a long drag and leans back against a wall. Tired as he is, he can't stop grinning. ]
Should I be lookin' forward to Round Two or is he convinced that I ain't one to be trifled with?
no subject
I think he's out for now. And mostly you just pissed him off, so he'll likely try to kill you again if he comes out.