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More Adam/Crowley. XD
Stayed up until 6 in the morning, woke up at 12, have a major fever+ case of dehydration and feel very sick. *pokies Dani for it* RPed with Sian in the afternoon and am posting the logs here for a very special member of my flist :P
Also missed the deadline for the Project Testing, meaning that I'll score zero marks for that section. Have to write an anime paper by midnight tonight, and do QR exam on Monday.
The first part of the log can be found here: Of Vice and Virtue, and an Encounter in Paris.
Part Two.
Adam watched the demon's reaction, absently twisting a strand of golden hair around his finger as he took full and quite satisfactory amusement from the other's shock. Admittedly, Paris was the last place that one would look to find the Antichrist, but when the other spoke with a surprised hiss, it was all Adam could do not to burst out laughing; it wasn't every day one got the drop on an immortal demon, after all.
He couldn't really blame the other; he looked at least somewhat like other teenagers. But then, he also looked like Adam; and no-one else looked like Adam. The long-ish golden hair was slightly too perfectly messy; the eyes were far too old for such a young face; but most of all, the widening smile that he shot in Crowley's direction was far too knowing as he spoke
cordially; his voice just as blank as his aura.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?"
He did not shift; did not fiddle around with things or look anywhere but at Crowley now, removing his hand from the golden hair; those sorts of signs were signs of nervousness, of uncomfortableness, and Adam happened to find himself comfortable in any setting, no matter how conventional or unconventional it might be. Not to mention, Adam was too lazy to do such things. He simply sat, arms folded over his chest in the slight slouch of a normal teenager; just waiting for another reaction.
"Yess, it hass." The hiss lessened, though a faint trace of it remained and Crowley leaned back in his chair. Slitted golden eyes took in the details of the other's appearance, the demon reassessing his plans for the afternoon.
After all, it was hardly worth trying to corrupt the Antichrist, assuming it was even possible. Though, managing it ought to earn him far more than a commendation... alternatively, it could earn him a one-way ticket to the deepest Circle of Hell for committing what was tantamount to mutiny.
Hard to tell really, with bureaucrats these days.
Adam couldn't help but laugh a little again at the way the other hissed when he was surprised; it was one of the few ways that Crowley made his feelings quite obvious.
However, he could also feel himself being studied; eyes that were suddenly guarded completely met Crowley's- if he were to look into them for any sort of information, he would hit a brick wall.
Red brick; Adam was quite fond of red brick walls. They reminded him of home; green hills and red brick and a warm feeling. Tadfield.
But there was no time to be caught in memory now; not when there was good company sat before him. Adam gave Crowley an amused look.
"I didn't think this much surprise was really merited." He said, "Aren't you s'posed to know these things, being what you are?"
A little stung by that insinuation, Crowley picked up his cup again, sipping from it idly, as if Adam's question wasn't worth paying attention.
Setting it down on the saucer again, he informed the other casually, "You're hidden from ethereal and occult forces automatically unless you deliberately reveal yourself."
A slight smirk, and he added, "Aren't you supposed to know those things, being what you are?"
Adam tilted his head to the side, his expression mirroring the demon's. "Touche." He answered with a snicker, staring over at him; was that an offended look he saw in Crowley's eyes?
Strange. One would think he had an almost pachydermal skin, being a demon. But then, Adam in all his wisdom could not entirely predict just what an 'occult force' would and would not do.
It was all ineffable, after all.
"So why are you in Paris?" He asked eventually, the tone mildly interested.
Slender shoulders shrugged in response to that question, and Crowley adjusted his sunglasses a little as he answered, "They," -and he didn't need to specify who 'They' were- "Thought it was time for another de Gaulle."
Not that there was any guarantee the Antichrist would know who that was - Adam's marks at school had been appalling, Crowley remembered being told by Anathema during one of their early get-togethers - but it was detailed enough. Adam could always guess at the rest.
Adam blinked at him for a second, trying to remember if he should know or care who de Gaulle was; no information was forthcoming. History had never been a good subject for the boy, not at all. So, as Crowley had half-expected, Adam was just a little confused as to the meaning.
However, it was easily deduced due to Crowley's profession just what type of person de Gaulle must have been, so Adam nodded sagely, "I see."
Another question came to mind after a moment; he always had a lot of questions.
"How's the angel?"
Crowley tipped his head to a side, and smiled suddenly, amusement quirking his lips into something that stopped just short of being a smirk. "The angel is fine."
A pause, and Crowley asked the obvious question for lack of any other way to phrase it, "Which means you haven't visited him yet?"
Not that Crowley had any proof that Adam was here for him, but he was far from being an idiot. It would be ridiculous to expect him to believe that the two of them had run into each other by coincidence.
When you deal with Ineffability after all, there's no such thing as a coincidence.
Adam straightened after a moment, slender form stretching just a little; the slouch was slightly cramping. He would deal with the allegation of 'arranging' a visit after he had stretched out the cramps that were beginning to form.
After doing that, he took into account the demon's reaction when Aziraphale was mentioned; the answer was fond.
Adam had known it would be already.
But, back to the main topic at hand; the question. Adam gazed at Crowley, contemplating the question and what he would answer to it. He hadn't consciously decided that he would seek the demon out, but he didn't normally visit such cafes either- and when he did, he usually got a take-out coffee and left.
Eventually, he settled for a simple, "No, I haven't. Perhaps I will, though."
"And after that, the Four Horsemen?" Crowley pressed, genuinely curious as to what Adam was doing. He was the Antichrist after all - and hadn't Crowley predicted that the next big war would be all of Humanity against all of the Divine?
Though, the young man seated in front of him was hard to reconcile with the image of a destroyer. If anything, he looked more angelic than demonic - but angelic in a very earthy way. Adam really didn't look to have changed much since he was a child... he hadn't grown up, just grown older.
Adam's very-blue eyes simply blinked at him innocently in answer; whatever plans the Antichrist may or may not have, they were not to be divulged. He was not going to answer that, however much the other tempted or wheedled.
A slim hand reached upwards; Adam placed one slender finger to his own lips that was an expression of both amusement and guarded secrets.
"Maybe next time," Was all he said, removing his hand and folding his arms again, looking like any other teenager that might have something to hide.
A smirk twisted at Crowley's slim lips, and he inclined his head to the other slightly in the barest of acknowledgments. He hadn't really been expecting an answer, but it was worth a try at least.
And now he had something extra to write on his postcard to Aziraphale, a warning of possible danger to come. After all, it's not every day one meets the Antichrist.
...nor is it every day that one tries to unsuccessfully (successfully? Crowley wasn't sure about that) tempt him.
Brushing a strand of dark hair elegantly away from his gleaming sunglasses, Crowley decided it was time to throw the other's question back at him. Tone deliberately-casual, he asked, "So why are you in Paris?"
Adam was silent for a moment, apparently contemplating his answer; eventually, he simply said:
"Because I want to be."
He had wanted to be here; thus, he had come here. Such things as practicalities really were no issue when one was the Antichrist, after all. He couldn't help but smile a little though, challenging:
"Why? There some sort of reason that I shouldn't be here, is that it?" His voice was amused, but there was none of the condescension that could have been included; Adam was playing with Crowley, nothing more.
The child, he still loved to play games. Except now, he played them with demons in place of computers.
And just as how he had never lost with a computer, it seemed unlikely he would lose now. Lax angel, indifferent demon - regardless of which you labelled him, Crowley still had the spark of the Other within him. He was far from human. And Adam, in all his not-human-humanity, appealed to it without even trying.
Just as he also did; Adam got what he wanted without trying.
Crowley shrugged, and gave Adam an amused look of his own, eyes hidden behind his ever-present dark sunglasses. "I thought that you would stay in Tadfield with your little gang and wage war on the," And he paused for a moment, deliberately pretending to have forgotten the name of the opposing gang, "Johnsonites, wasn't it?"
And the trace of condescension in his words was entirely playful, Crowley wanting to see if Adam would rise to the bait even as he nibbled unknowingly at the Antichrist's lure.
Adam didn't rise to it insofar as getting irritated; instead, his eyelids lowered slightly as he commented,
"Yeah, the Johnsonites." Large, guileless blue eyes gazed at Crowley as the boy intoned innocently, "Some sort of religious sect, weren't they?"
The patronising tone, which had been absent from the boy's last statement was highly apparent now. Adam remembered overhearing that one quite well; he had overheard everything on that day.
"As for staying in Tadfield, I'll be going back there soon enough."
He smiled a little, the tone almost wistful as he looked away from Crowley, about at the surroundings; the cafe was clearing now, the patrons somewhat less than impressed at the sudden bad quality of their food and drink.
"No matter where I go, I always go back there."
Crowley laughed at that, openly amuesd. After all, that comment had Aziraphale's, not Crowley's. The demon had asked Anathema later about Adam, curious as to what the boy had been talking about, and been regaled with far too much information. Including her impression that Adam was the sort of model that Michelangelo would have loved; an impression that Crowley found himeslf concurring with mentally.
Arching an eyebrow, though it was barely visible over the rim of his sleek sunglasses, Crowley mentioned, "I'll probably be back in England soon as well. The elections will be over in a couple of weeks."
...and then he found himself wondering why he had vouchsafed that to Adam.
Adam raised both of his eyebrows in answer to the other's statement, thinking over what he had said and coming to one possible conclusion, but decided not to voice it; people often disliked it when he knew what they were thinking.
"Well, I don't intend on returning just yet," He said, smiling a little; "I've not seen the sights around here yet. I've not been here long."
Apparently, there were a lot of things to see in Paris; yet, Adam was in no hurry to get up and go to see them. He had a feeling that here was the place he would find the most interesting conversation in the duration of his stay.
"I could always show you around." Crowley heard himself offering, the words not hitting his brain until after they had left his lips. With a sudden, sinking feeling, the demon found himself reminded of his words to Aziraphale, so long ago...
"It's reality, angel. And young Warlock can do what he wants to that, whether he knows it or not."
Change the name a little, and what he had said all those decades ago (so many decades ago, surely Adam should be older?) still applied. Though Adam had grown now. He had conscious control of what he chose to affect.
And yet, around him, everything was affected anyway. Even demons. 'And possibly,' Crowley thought to himself as he took another sip of his drink, 'Especially demons.'
Adam blinked, having actually not expected the offer; regardless of whatever effect he might have on the demon, he hadn't been intending to do so and was so quite surprised.
However, that didn't mean he was going to say no. Crowley interested him; finding out more about the world he was supposed to be born into interested him.
"That'd be great." He grinned, nodding; the grin gave him an altogether far-too-innocent look. Adam could go two ways; he could look young or old for his age, usually dependent on his mood.
However, for now Adam was quite content to act simply like any other teenager. At least for now; his heritage was always a step behind him, of course.
He welcomed it.
Another sip, white teeth closing on the china of the cup for a moment, and then Crowley looked out of the cafe, to where the Eiffel Tower loomed. "So, what have you seen so far?"
It wasn't as if his work would suffer for a little time spent sightseeing with the Antichrist. As far as he was concerned, all the candidates were equally corrupt. He really didn't need to be there - but try telling Down Below that! Oh well. It wasn't as if the demon had anything against earning commendations for nothing, but he slightly grudged the time spent away from his angel.
Not that Crowley liked Aziraphale or anything of the kind. It was just that apart from himself, Aziraphale was the only other divine being on Earth who understood the situation post-Apocalypse.
Or at least, so it had been. With Adam in the game now, new variables had been introduced and collusions of a whole new kind were about to take place.
"Nothing." Adam answered with a slight shrug; "I got here yesterday morning." He followed the other's gaze in the direction of the tower, and smirked a little.
"It isn't as if I don't know what's here, though." He said wryly; even Adam's education had stretched that far. The Louvre, l'Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower; all of the architecture was what the Antichrist was most looking forward to seeing.
How could one build something so magnificent, so high or so beautiful without it getting messed up? It didn't make full sense in Adam's mind, but then he always liked to learn.
"And you haven't seen anything yet?" Crowley quirked an eyebrow at Adam, surrpised by that. A day was a very long time, especially if you didn't need to sleep. Then again, would Adam need sleep? He must have slept before, else he would have realized he wasn't human, but knowledge changed many things in a person, and it was easy enough to imagine Adam forsaking sleep for the sake of seeing if he could...
And equally easy to imagine him continuing to sleep after finding out that he could do without it.
Adam's eyes widened a little in confusion at the surprised tone; he'd arrived around midday yesterday, and the only thing he had been concerned with was finding somewhere to stay in the duration of his trip to Paris and to sleep off the jetlag.
"I needed to sleep some," He said to Crowley, shrugging a little; "I came from America, not from England. It's quite a trip, y'know."
From America, where he had been doing exactly the same as he had been intending to do here- at least, consciously intending- wandering. Learning more. Studying life, not just things.
Things weren't important unless there were people to see them. So people had to be more important than things; himself being one of those people. Adam liked to sleep, even though something in the corner of his mind told him he didn't really need to. He didn't much care for that corner, and so ignored it entirely.
America? Now that was odd. Strange as it was to see Adam out of England - sitting across a table from him, looking like a hell-bent angel - it was even odder still to think of him in America.
With a slight smirk, Crowley asked the other, "And what you were doing in America - seeing how many flavors of ice-cream they have?"
It was so hard to resist making small jokes about Adam's pre-Apocalypse life and the details of it that Crowley had pieced together from what the angel and Anathema had told him. And like all good demons, Crowley always gave into temptation.
Not that he was necessarily a good demon in other respects...
Adam held that memory too, and couldn't resist a bright smile at that comment. Crowley appeared to have a very good memory.
"There were forty-two, in one ice-cream parlour." He said with a laugh, "You should've seen it- it was this huge row of ice-cream boxes, and-"
He stopped suddenly, eyes suddenly having become far away; almost absent. "And... nothing. I was in America to learn. Just like the reason I came here."
He said nothing more than that, eyes lowering to the table again.
The change of demeanour didn't go unnoticed by the demon, who studied the Antichrist curiously for a little. Silence fell, and for a while, the only sound was that of the people outside swearing at each other in hopes of getting the traffic jam to dissipate.
Finally, Crowley finished his drink and set it down in the saucer again, standing to leave. He paid with coins of different currencies, and as an afterthought, left an overly-generous tip for the waitress.
"Let's go. The Eiffel Tower is the closest." He informed the young man, picking his dark jacket off the back of the chair and slipping into it with all the sinuous grace of a snake.
Also missed the deadline for the Project Testing, meaning that I'll score zero marks for that section. Have to write an anime paper by midnight tonight, and do QR exam on Monday.
The first part of the log can be found here: Of Vice and Virtue, and an Encounter in Paris.
Adam watched the demon's reaction, absently twisting a strand of golden hair around his finger as he took full and quite satisfactory amusement from the other's shock. Admittedly, Paris was the last place that one would look to find the Antichrist, but when the other spoke with a surprised hiss, it was all Adam could do not to burst out laughing; it wasn't every day one got the drop on an immortal demon, after all.
He couldn't really blame the other; he looked at least somewhat like other teenagers. But then, he also looked like Adam; and no-one else looked like Adam. The long-ish golden hair was slightly too perfectly messy; the eyes were far too old for such a young face; but most of all, the widening smile that he shot in Crowley's direction was far too knowing as he spoke
cordially; his voice just as blank as his aura.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?"
He did not shift; did not fiddle around with things or look anywhere but at Crowley now, removing his hand from the golden hair; those sorts of signs were signs of nervousness, of uncomfortableness, and Adam happened to find himself comfortable in any setting, no matter how conventional or unconventional it might be. Not to mention, Adam was too lazy to do such things. He simply sat, arms folded over his chest in the slight slouch of a normal teenager; just waiting for another reaction.
"Yess, it hass." The hiss lessened, though a faint trace of it remained and Crowley leaned back in his chair. Slitted golden eyes took in the details of the other's appearance, the demon reassessing his plans for the afternoon.
After all, it was hardly worth trying to corrupt the Antichrist, assuming it was even possible. Though, managing it ought to earn him far more than a commendation... alternatively, it could earn him a one-way ticket to the deepest Circle of Hell for committing what was tantamount to mutiny.
Hard to tell really, with bureaucrats these days.
Adam couldn't help but laugh a little again at the way the other hissed when he was surprised; it was one of the few ways that Crowley made his feelings quite obvious.
However, he could also feel himself being studied; eyes that were suddenly guarded completely met Crowley's- if he were to look into them for any sort of information, he would hit a brick wall.
Red brick; Adam was quite fond of red brick walls. They reminded him of home; green hills and red brick and a warm feeling. Tadfield.
But there was no time to be caught in memory now; not when there was good company sat before him. Adam gave Crowley an amused look.
"I didn't think this much surprise was really merited." He said, "Aren't you s'posed to know these things, being what you are?"
A little stung by that insinuation, Crowley picked up his cup again, sipping from it idly, as if Adam's question wasn't worth paying attention.
Setting it down on the saucer again, he informed the other casually, "You're hidden from ethereal and occult forces automatically unless you deliberately reveal yourself."
A slight smirk, and he added, "Aren't you supposed to know those things, being what you are?"
Adam tilted his head to the side, his expression mirroring the demon's. "Touche." He answered with a snicker, staring over at him; was that an offended look he saw in Crowley's eyes?
Strange. One would think he had an almost pachydermal skin, being a demon. But then, Adam in all his wisdom could not entirely predict just what an 'occult force' would and would not do.
It was all ineffable, after all.
"So why are you in Paris?" He asked eventually, the tone mildly interested.
Slender shoulders shrugged in response to that question, and Crowley adjusted his sunglasses a little as he answered, "They," -and he didn't need to specify who 'They' were- "Thought it was time for another de Gaulle."
Not that there was any guarantee the Antichrist would know who that was - Adam's marks at school had been appalling, Crowley remembered being told by Anathema during one of their early get-togethers - but it was detailed enough. Adam could always guess at the rest.
Adam blinked at him for a second, trying to remember if he should know or care who de Gaulle was; no information was forthcoming. History had never been a good subject for the boy, not at all. So, as Crowley had half-expected, Adam was just a little confused as to the meaning.
However, it was easily deduced due to Crowley's profession just what type of person de Gaulle must have been, so Adam nodded sagely, "I see."
Another question came to mind after a moment; he always had a lot of questions.
"How's the angel?"
Crowley tipped his head to a side, and smiled suddenly, amusement quirking his lips into something that stopped just short of being a smirk. "The angel is fine."
A pause, and Crowley asked the obvious question for lack of any other way to phrase it, "Which means you haven't visited him yet?"
Not that Crowley had any proof that Adam was here for him, but he was far from being an idiot. It would be ridiculous to expect him to believe that the two of them had run into each other by coincidence.
When you deal with Ineffability after all, there's no such thing as a coincidence.
Adam straightened after a moment, slender form stretching just a little; the slouch was slightly cramping. He would deal with the allegation of 'arranging' a visit after he had stretched out the cramps that were beginning to form.
After doing that, he took into account the demon's reaction when Aziraphale was mentioned; the answer was fond.
Adam had known it would be already.
But, back to the main topic at hand; the question. Adam gazed at Crowley, contemplating the question and what he would answer to it. He hadn't consciously decided that he would seek the demon out, but he didn't normally visit such cafes either- and when he did, he usually got a take-out coffee and left.
Eventually, he settled for a simple, "No, I haven't. Perhaps I will, though."
"And after that, the Four Horsemen?" Crowley pressed, genuinely curious as to what Adam was doing. He was the Antichrist after all - and hadn't Crowley predicted that the next big war would be all of Humanity against all of the Divine?
Though, the young man seated in front of him was hard to reconcile with the image of a destroyer. If anything, he looked more angelic than demonic - but angelic in a very earthy way. Adam really didn't look to have changed much since he was a child... he hadn't grown up, just grown older.
Adam's very-blue eyes simply blinked at him innocently in answer; whatever plans the Antichrist may or may not have, they were not to be divulged. He was not going to answer that, however much the other tempted or wheedled.
A slim hand reached upwards; Adam placed one slender finger to his own lips that was an expression of both amusement and guarded secrets.
"Maybe next time," Was all he said, removing his hand and folding his arms again, looking like any other teenager that might have something to hide.
A smirk twisted at Crowley's slim lips, and he inclined his head to the other slightly in the barest of acknowledgments. He hadn't really been expecting an answer, but it was worth a try at least.
And now he had something extra to write on his postcard to Aziraphale, a warning of possible danger to come. After all, it's not every day one meets the Antichrist.
...nor is it every day that one tries to unsuccessfully (successfully? Crowley wasn't sure about that) tempt him.
Brushing a strand of dark hair elegantly away from his gleaming sunglasses, Crowley decided it was time to throw the other's question back at him. Tone deliberately-casual, he asked, "So why are you in Paris?"
Adam was silent for a moment, apparently contemplating his answer; eventually, he simply said:
"Because I want to be."
He had wanted to be here; thus, he had come here. Such things as practicalities really were no issue when one was the Antichrist, after all. He couldn't help but smile a little though, challenging:
"Why? There some sort of reason that I shouldn't be here, is that it?" His voice was amused, but there was none of the condescension that could have been included; Adam was playing with Crowley, nothing more.
The child, he still loved to play games. Except now, he played them with demons in place of computers.
And just as how he had never lost with a computer, it seemed unlikely he would lose now. Lax angel, indifferent demon - regardless of which you labelled him, Crowley still had the spark of the Other within him. He was far from human. And Adam, in all his not-human-humanity, appealed to it without even trying.
Just as he also did; Adam got what he wanted without trying.
Crowley shrugged, and gave Adam an amused look of his own, eyes hidden behind his ever-present dark sunglasses. "I thought that you would stay in Tadfield with your little gang and wage war on the," And he paused for a moment, deliberately pretending to have forgotten the name of the opposing gang, "Johnsonites, wasn't it?"
And the trace of condescension in his words was entirely playful, Crowley wanting to see if Adam would rise to the bait even as he nibbled unknowingly at the Antichrist's lure.
Adam didn't rise to it insofar as getting irritated; instead, his eyelids lowered slightly as he commented,
"Yeah, the Johnsonites." Large, guileless blue eyes gazed at Crowley as the boy intoned innocently, "Some sort of religious sect, weren't they?"
The patronising tone, which had been absent from the boy's last statement was highly apparent now. Adam remembered overhearing that one quite well; he had overheard everything on that day.
"As for staying in Tadfield, I'll be going back there soon enough."
He smiled a little, the tone almost wistful as he looked away from Crowley, about at the surroundings; the cafe was clearing now, the patrons somewhat less than impressed at the sudden bad quality of their food and drink.
"No matter where I go, I always go back there."
Crowley laughed at that, openly amuesd. After all, that comment had Aziraphale's, not Crowley's. The demon had asked Anathema later about Adam, curious as to what the boy had been talking about, and been regaled with far too much information. Including her impression that Adam was the sort of model that Michelangelo would have loved; an impression that Crowley found himeslf concurring with mentally.
Arching an eyebrow, though it was barely visible over the rim of his sleek sunglasses, Crowley mentioned, "I'll probably be back in England soon as well. The elections will be over in a couple of weeks."
...and then he found himself wondering why he had vouchsafed that to Adam.
Adam raised both of his eyebrows in answer to the other's statement, thinking over what he had said and coming to one possible conclusion, but decided not to voice it; people often disliked it when he knew what they were thinking.
"Well, I don't intend on returning just yet," He said, smiling a little; "I've not seen the sights around here yet. I've not been here long."
Apparently, there were a lot of things to see in Paris; yet, Adam was in no hurry to get up and go to see them. He had a feeling that here was the place he would find the most interesting conversation in the duration of his stay.
"I could always show you around." Crowley heard himself offering, the words not hitting his brain until after they had left his lips. With a sudden, sinking feeling, the demon found himself reminded of his words to Aziraphale, so long ago...
"It's reality, angel. And young Warlock can do what he wants to that, whether he knows it or not."
Change the name a little, and what he had said all those decades ago (so many decades ago, surely Adam should be older?) still applied. Though Adam had grown now. He had conscious control of what he chose to affect.
And yet, around him, everything was affected anyway. Even demons. 'And possibly,' Crowley thought to himself as he took another sip of his drink, 'Especially demons.'
Adam blinked, having actually not expected the offer; regardless of whatever effect he might have on the demon, he hadn't been intending to do so and was so quite surprised.
However, that didn't mean he was going to say no. Crowley interested him; finding out more about the world he was supposed to be born into interested him.
"That'd be great." He grinned, nodding; the grin gave him an altogether far-too-innocent look. Adam could go two ways; he could look young or old for his age, usually dependent on his mood.
However, for now Adam was quite content to act simply like any other teenager. At least for now; his heritage was always a step behind him, of course.
He welcomed it.
Another sip, white teeth closing on the china of the cup for a moment, and then Crowley looked out of the cafe, to where the Eiffel Tower loomed. "So, what have you seen so far?"
It wasn't as if his work would suffer for a little time spent sightseeing with the Antichrist. As far as he was concerned, all the candidates were equally corrupt. He really didn't need to be there - but try telling Down Below that! Oh well. It wasn't as if the demon had anything against earning commendations for nothing, but he slightly grudged the time spent away from his angel.
Not that Crowley liked Aziraphale or anything of the kind. It was just that apart from himself, Aziraphale was the only other divine being on Earth who understood the situation post-Apocalypse.
Or at least, so it had been. With Adam in the game now, new variables had been introduced and collusions of a whole new kind were about to take place.
"Nothing." Adam answered with a slight shrug; "I got here yesterday morning." He followed the other's gaze in the direction of the tower, and smirked a little.
"It isn't as if I don't know what's here, though." He said wryly; even Adam's education had stretched that far. The Louvre, l'Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower; all of the architecture was what the Antichrist was most looking forward to seeing.
How could one build something so magnificent, so high or so beautiful without it getting messed up? It didn't make full sense in Adam's mind, but then he always liked to learn.
"And you haven't seen anything yet?" Crowley quirked an eyebrow at Adam, surrpised by that. A day was a very long time, especially if you didn't need to sleep. Then again, would Adam need sleep? He must have slept before, else he would have realized he wasn't human, but knowledge changed many things in a person, and it was easy enough to imagine Adam forsaking sleep for the sake of seeing if he could...
And equally easy to imagine him continuing to sleep after finding out that he could do without it.
Adam's eyes widened a little in confusion at the surprised tone; he'd arrived around midday yesterday, and the only thing he had been concerned with was finding somewhere to stay in the duration of his trip to Paris and to sleep off the jetlag.
"I needed to sleep some," He said to Crowley, shrugging a little; "I came from America, not from England. It's quite a trip, y'know."
From America, where he had been doing exactly the same as he had been intending to do here- at least, consciously intending- wandering. Learning more. Studying life, not just things.
Things weren't important unless there were people to see them. So people had to be more important than things; himself being one of those people. Adam liked to sleep, even though something in the corner of his mind told him he didn't really need to. He didn't much care for that corner, and so ignored it entirely.
America? Now that was odd. Strange as it was to see Adam out of England - sitting across a table from him, looking like a hell-bent angel - it was even odder still to think of him in America.
With a slight smirk, Crowley asked the other, "And what you were doing in America - seeing how many flavors of ice-cream they have?"
It was so hard to resist making small jokes about Adam's pre-Apocalypse life and the details of it that Crowley had pieced together from what the angel and Anathema had told him. And like all good demons, Crowley always gave into temptation.
Not that he was necessarily a good demon in other respects...
Adam held that memory too, and couldn't resist a bright smile at that comment. Crowley appeared to have a very good memory.
"There were forty-two, in one ice-cream parlour." He said with a laugh, "You should've seen it- it was this huge row of ice-cream boxes, and-"
He stopped suddenly, eyes suddenly having become far away; almost absent. "And... nothing. I was in America to learn. Just like the reason I came here."
He said nothing more than that, eyes lowering to the table again.
The change of demeanour didn't go unnoticed by the demon, who studied the Antichrist curiously for a little. Silence fell, and for a while, the only sound was that of the people outside swearing at each other in hopes of getting the traffic jam to dissipate.
Finally, Crowley finished his drink and set it down in the saucer again, standing to leave. He paid with coins of different currencies, and as an afterthought, left an overly-generous tip for the waitress.
"Let's go. The Eiffel Tower is the closest." He informed the young man, picking his dark jacket off the back of the chair and slipping into it with all the sinuous grace of a snake.
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Attempting to make me feel guilty *pokes back*? Yes. Which is why you're off MSN by a certain time - just donno which time you prefer.
Also missed the deadline for the Project Testing, meaning that I'll score zero marks for that section. Have to write an anime paper by midnight tonight, and do QR exam on Monday.
X_X *whines* Fiiickklleee!! @_@ Okay... soo... when are you going to do the paper annd hmm... will that mean no MSN on Sunday?
*sings a lullaby*
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I am going to *shoot* you. I really am. You never told me you were missing deadlines/needing to write a paper! >_> You never told me you were tired, either.
Hmm. Well, I was off the net by 12:30AM, which is 7:30AM for you, so...at least you had SOME time to do the paper.
Uh... by the way... as to what I wrote in the letter, it may have been a very small joke about anthrax. *cough*
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"Kare no Chi"
Parings: Bakura / Yami Malik, Lishid / Yami Malik
Genre: Yaoi
Is now available.
http://www.zelas.net/doujinshi/chicover.jpg with that cover.
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Okay, the DJ's mostly Marik... there's a few pages of Bakura... more of Rishid/Odion... and it seems to be like.. I donno... Marik wants Bakura, but Rishid wants him? I donno, I skimmed it...
And http://fgauge.sakura.ne.jp/main.html <~ 4th Guage has a new psychoshipping.
Go to works - then scroll down to "down under" and it's their new one. You can't right click to save, it seems, so I'ma prnt screen and save.