09-13-2019, 04:49 AM
[align=center]
This was the most hysterically cool thing Crowley has witnessed. Like, in the way that there is a vivid pink cat feeding mutated fish to fucking alligators. He's not really sure about the floating fish portion of it -- Crowley was like, 80% sure that telekensis was a thing non-angel stock could use? But to be entirely honest, he's seen some weird things since showing up here, so he's not going to question it.3333
He was still stuck on the implications that dragons were real.
"I'm sure she does!" Crowley cackles, wings flapping in the excitement of the whole ordeal as he pops up beside the unfamiliar feline, unconcerned. Crowley lives for a bit of chaos -- even if it's not something that Crowley has had a hand in. And, well, Crowley figures that nothing defines a fun bit of chaos much more than this. "What's the point, though?" There has to be a method to the madness, surely? Because Crowley really can't place what the point is, and he'd think he knows humans and, uh, sentient beings pretty well by this point. Abruptly calmed, he folds his wings back in and beams toothily at the feline -- Delilah? Wormwood had called her Delilah?
[glow=#000,1,400]all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to — [abbr=tags]｡+ﾟ.[/abbr][/glow]
[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]Oh, oh man.This was the most hysterically cool thing Crowley has witnessed. Like, in the way that there is a vivid pink cat feeding mutated fish to fucking alligators. He's not really sure about the floating fish portion of it -- Crowley was like, 80% sure that telekensis was a thing non-angel stock could use? But to be entirely honest, he's seen some weird things since showing up here, so he's not going to question it.3333
He was still stuck on the implications that dragons were real.
"I'm sure she does!" Crowley cackles, wings flapping in the excitement of the whole ordeal as he pops up beside the unfamiliar feline, unconcerned. Crowley lives for a bit of chaos -- even if it's not something that Crowley has had a hand in. And, well, Crowley figures that nothing defines a fun bit of chaos much more than this. "What's the point, though?" There has to be a method to the madness, surely? Because Crowley really can't place what the point is, and he'd think he knows humans and, uh, sentient beings pretty well by this point. Abruptly calmed, he folds his wings back in and beams toothily at the feline -- Delilah? Wormwood had called her Delilah?