" Hm - uh - what is that? "
Crowley sniffs the air, abruptly halted in his movements. He had been walking down the street, until he'd caught a whiff of something in the air - lavender. Lots of lavender . . . and something else. Less of a scent and more of a sensation . . . white light. Holiness.
Crowley makes a fake gagging noise, scanning the crowds around. There's an angel nearby, must be. Which means he might be in a whole lot of trouble.
" WELL, " He announces rather loudly, obviously. In his experience, angels aren't very perceptive folk, so he makes no effort to be subtle. " Here I go. Off to do some unholy things. Borderline demonic, some might say. As if I, in fact were a demon. "
( He's getting strange looks, but that's nothing new. )
" Slaughtering children. Committing arson. " He's spinning on his heel, looking around. Examining the faces around him, even checking the ground for rats and the sky for birds, just in case another angel's consciousness ended up in the body of some vermin. " Littering. "
@anglsent
