dontfeartreaper

Black wings were spread wide on the air as certain shirtless demon was preening his feathers. The glasses were next to his shirt, carefully folded on the rock near the one he was sitting on. An innocent mind would say that he chose the place because the vegetation blocked him from unwanted oglers, or maybe because the water of the pool on his bare feet was pleasant. At it will be right, but let's mention too that Crowley chose it because of the carnivore plants that grew here and there around the clearing.

He couldn't clean his wings on his hotel room for many good reasons, or at least Crowley thought that they were reasons enough to not do it. One, the wings reached almost from one end of the room to the other and it was pain to take care of them when you had not enough space. Two, he couldn't get rid of the feathers because even if they were not attached to him anymore he couldn't burn them or make them vanish, and the hotel staff will probably ask why looks like he killed a dozen of ravens in his room. And three, Hastur was on the hotels too because there was no way to scape from the dammed resort. Crowley knew because he tried. Much. Now there was no place to go...on the other hand, he could always go down , but even if his superiors never talk about that thing that never happened every demon in hell knew and Crowley had no wishes to explain why that thing that never happened never happened.

The demon pulled the last old sheath off of a new alula feather and allowed it to drift to the water, the next second it was gone.

As it was, there was another demonic presence skulking around the forest, looking....agitated, for a lack of a better word. Hastur appeared to be agitated a lot these days. The resort had been a nice little vacation for all of one day. Namely the day he had beaten a certain flash bastard's hide into the ground. That had been very nice, up until the git went and blacked out on him. Punishment wasn't fun if the victim wasn't aware of it.

Ever since then, the duke of Hell had been busying himself with trying to find a way back home. Shifting between planes didn't work, making old fashioned runic portals only left him covered in chalk, and breaking down only served to send half the beach-goers running for the cliffs. In fact, he'd tried everything short of just killing off his mortal body and being done with it, but even that was looking quite tempting.

....alright, maybe more than agitated. On the bright side, being as deep in thought as he was, he didn't quite catch the feel of another demonic energy nearby. Yet.

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