A. Crowley had always enjoyed the cinema. He had been a bit of a junkie when it came to it, always finding time to catch a weekend matinee while most humans were still asleep. He'd been obsessed with certain films over the decades, but often times found himself watching cartoons because visual stimulation without content that was too cerebral was a pleasant way to zone out.
This was a ritual he'd gone without for some time, having been plucked from his own world and stranded on a deserted island for several months. This wasn't a particularly long time once compared to the entirety of his existence, but it felt particularly longer than it had been, since he'd also been stripped of many of the powers he had used for mere convenience since before time had even existed. It was a bit of a shock to his system, and the soft glow of the film screen was so beautiful to him in this moment, that it nearly brought tears to his eyes (that he took care to still mask behind sunglasses, even in a dark theatre).
He hears others approaching before he sees them, but he doesn't turn his head, eyes transfixed to the screen, expression rather emotional for someone watching a cartoon about a train.
"I've missed you so much." he murmurs softly... and it's unclear if he's speaking to the film or the person approaching.
B. 'Oh, wonderful. More jungle retreats.' was the demon's first thoughts when setting out on his mission. He'd had just about enough of those for a while, he'd thought, but at least this one had a goal with a promised end. Crowley wasn't a very physical being, however, which made the idea of swinging tree to tree, fighting creatures, and saving civilians absolutely dreadful. There was something that made things a bit easier for him, his human corporation had been ill-suited, sure, but there was another form that Crowley could take that made climbing trees pretty natural.
The serpent, easily the size of a giant anaconda if not larger but with marking much more unique, had coiled up the tree easily, lounging momentarily in the branches as it assessed the situation. The snake was black with a red belly and big yellow eyes that somehow seemed more animated than the usual reptile, it's head darting back and forth as creatures passed beneath him, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. A rustling of leaves behind him had the long muscles of his body tensing, bringing him upright with fangs bared, hissing in the direction of the noise, at least until he could see the source of it and recognize it as anything other than a threat.
There was one more curious thing about the serpent of course, which was it's speech. It rose like a chorus of whispers, echoing through the listener's skull, low and sinuous in the way it spoke. The serpent's tongue flicked out, smelling the air as it lowered it's head.
Crowley / Good Omens - CRAU from Lifeaftr! (I'll match your formatting.)
This was a ritual he'd gone without for some time, having been plucked from his own world and stranded on a deserted island for several months. This wasn't a particularly long time once compared to the entirety of his existence, but it felt particularly longer than it had been, since he'd also been stripped of many of the powers he had used for mere convenience since before time had even existed. It was a bit of a shock to his system, and the soft glow of the film screen was so beautiful to him in this moment, that it nearly brought tears to his eyes (that he took care to still mask behind sunglasses, even in a dark theatre).
He hears others approaching before he sees them, but he doesn't turn his head, eyes transfixed to the screen, expression rather emotional for someone watching a cartoon about a train.
"I've missed you so much." he murmurs softly... and it's unclear if he's speaking to the film or the person approaching.
B. 'Oh, wonderful. More jungle retreats.' was the demon's first thoughts when setting out on his mission. He'd had just about enough of those for a while, he'd thought, but at least this one had a goal with a promised end. Crowley wasn't a very physical being, however, which made the idea of swinging tree to tree, fighting creatures, and saving civilians absolutely dreadful. There was something that made things a bit easier for him, his human corporation had been ill-suited, sure, but there was another form that Crowley could take that made climbing trees pretty natural.
The serpent, easily the size of a giant anaconda if not larger but with marking much more unique, had coiled up the tree easily, lounging momentarily in the branches as it assessed the situation. The snake was black with a red belly and big yellow eyes that somehow seemed more animated than the usual reptile, it's head darting back and forth as creatures passed beneath him, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. A rustling of leaves behind him had the long muscles of his body tensing, bringing him upright with fangs bared, hissing in the direction of the noise, at least until he could see the source of it and recognize it as anything other than a threat.
There was one more curious thing about the serpent of course, which was it's speech. It rose like a chorus of whispers, echoing through the listener's skull, low and sinuous in the way it spoke. The serpent's tongue flicked out, smelling the air as it lowered it's head.
"Watch your ssstep."