08-08-2016, 08:08 PM
Crowley: Enter, stage right!
The cruel and unrelenting desert sun beat down on the demon as he tripped his way over a sand dune. All the while, he gamely mumbled about no good Knights of Hell and their strange habits, the First Blade swinging loosely in his grip.
Dean Winchester was no more. Well, maybe he was alright— Crowley couldn’t be all that certain in a strange new world such as this, but to say that he was optimistic about the Knight of Hell’s chance of returning would be a massive overestimation. One moment he had been standing there, brusquely speaking to Crowley about how they were going to invade this shoddy old bandit stronghold (something which Crowley hadn’t been very optimistic about, either,) and the next he had disintegrated into a swirl of black smoke only to be sucked up into the First Blade a half-instant later. Like a demonic vacuum tube.
Naturally, Crowley had picked the jawbone up. As if he was going to leave his newfound pal just laying around where any idiot could swipe him up, no sir. Nothing significant had happened since that point, though he did notice that a strange aura of power coursed around the weapon. As he watched a tumbleweed roll past his legs, he dearly hoped that the decision to take it wouldn't cause him any trouble in the future.
It was unbearably hot. Waves of air shimmered in the distance, the insubstantial specks that littered the far-off landscape the only sign that he was headed in the right direction, towards civilization. Sinners, the righteous, false saints, paragons of ineptitude; even in mankind's earliest moments of architectural genius, all gathered around the huddled security of a fire. Crowley could only hope that the same could be said for whatever inhabited this plane.
He had disintegrated his beloved Bentley back into its raw Omnilium state a while before, choosing not to let the harsh climate damage the fine machinery any further despite his ability to miracle it all away. So, he walked. And walked. And walked. Until, finally, the swirling portal and gate that he had entered the enormous sandbox through stood out from all the rest, the savanna around him paling in comparison to its utter magnificence in that moment.
Grinning widely, Crowley hastened towards the portal. He had only made it a few long strides before he noticed that someone else had just passed through it, a sound like a soap bubble popping accompanying their entrance.
It was a horse. No, no, not a horse, it was a bit too small for that-- a pony. A unicorn, judging by the horn. Armed with a fearsome appearance and an adorable disposition for homicidal behavior. Weird.
"S'up?" Crowley said, flipping his sunglasses up so he could squint at the strange equine-like beast. The closer he peered at it, the more he wondered if he had ingested some weird dust with hallucinogenic properties by mistake.
The cruel and unrelenting desert sun beat down on the demon as he tripped his way over a sand dune. All the while, he gamely mumbled about no good Knights of Hell and their strange habits, the First Blade swinging loosely in his grip.
Dean Winchester was no more. Well, maybe he was alright— Crowley couldn’t be all that certain in a strange new world such as this, but to say that he was optimistic about the Knight of Hell’s chance of returning would be a massive overestimation. One moment he had been standing there, brusquely speaking to Crowley about how they were going to invade this shoddy old bandit stronghold (something which Crowley hadn’t been very optimistic about, either,) and the next he had disintegrated into a swirl of black smoke only to be sucked up into the First Blade a half-instant later. Like a demonic vacuum tube.
Naturally, Crowley had picked the jawbone up. As if he was going to leave his newfound pal just laying around where any idiot could swipe him up, no sir. Nothing significant had happened since that point, though he did notice that a strange aura of power coursed around the weapon. As he watched a tumbleweed roll past his legs, he dearly hoped that the decision to take it wouldn't cause him any trouble in the future.
It was unbearably hot. Waves of air shimmered in the distance, the insubstantial specks that littered the far-off landscape the only sign that he was headed in the right direction, towards civilization. Sinners, the righteous, false saints, paragons of ineptitude; even in mankind's earliest moments of architectural genius, all gathered around the huddled security of a fire. Crowley could only hope that the same could be said for whatever inhabited this plane.
He had disintegrated his beloved Bentley back into its raw Omnilium state a while before, choosing not to let the harsh climate damage the fine machinery any further despite his ability to miracle it all away. So, he walked. And walked. And walked. Until, finally, the swirling portal and gate that he had entered the enormous sandbox through stood out from all the rest, the savanna around him paling in comparison to its utter magnificence in that moment.
Grinning widely, Crowley hastened towards the portal. He had only made it a few long strides before he noticed that someone else had just passed through it, a sound like a soap bubble popping accompanying their entrance.
It was a horse. No, no, not a horse, it was a bit too small for that-- a pony. A unicorn, judging by the horn. Armed with a fearsome appearance and an adorable disposition for homicidal behavior. Weird.
"S'up?" Crowley said, flipping his sunglasses up so he could squint at the strange equine-like beast. The closer he peered at it, the more he wondered if he had ingested some weird dust with hallucinogenic properties by mistake.
![[Image: 18yM1ww.gif]](http://i.imgur.com/18yM1ww.gif)
She's a Killer Queen!
Gunpowder, gelatine, dynamite with a laser beam,
Guaranteed to blow your mind!
- "Killer Queen", Queen