darkness [[ooc: Aziraphale is with him for this prompt, so it'll be a three person thread with bibliophilicbells along for the ride.]]
[After a brief conversation with Rosemary that pointed him towards the school, Aziraphale had talked him into going to check it out, since it's — the right thing to do, and because he wants to know what the fuck is going on. They're both reasonably well armed, two hunting rifles and a pistol between them, a decent amount of ammo just in case they need it.
The first thing of any interest they stumble across is the surgical room, and despite Crowley's insistence that Aziraphale stay out, they both end up inside, tentatively poking through the supplies. The blood and viscera doesn't bother him that much, but he's careful not to touch anything he ought not to, when he knows human bodies are susceptible to disease and infections. None of this looks especially sterile.
When he hears footsteps nearby, he raises the rifle, though his finger stays against the trigger-guard, and puts himself between the door and Aziraphale.]
Who's there?
[Announcing himself is a risk, but he knows there are likely others of their group down here looking for the people that were taken. He'd rather not get shot by someone friendly, if they come in not knowing anyone's here.]
come and play
[Crowley is alone. There'd been a scuffle with the doppelgangers and he lost track of Aziraphale, has been searching for him ever since, trying not to panic and mostly failing.
At least he's still armed. He just has to hope that Aziraphale is, too.
And then he hears a voice calling out to him. It's been so long since he's heard it, but there's something unmistakable about it, some part of him buried deep that would know it anywhere.]
Come here, Crowley, let me take a look at you.
[If someone happens upon him, they'll be ignored as he lowers the gun and walks towards the voice, unable to stop himself.
Someone should... probably stop him.]
a timely rescue
[After — all that business, he's a lot more on edge, far more wary of the voices that call to him and careful not to walk to close to the pieces of doppelganger, even if they look to have fallen apart. The more he spends in this place, the more he regrets having come, wishing he'd ignored his curiosity and Aziraphale's insistence they do the right thing. If something's happened to him, Crowley will never forgive himself.
Not everyone is so lucky, though, and when he hears a scuffle he's quick to run towards it, hoping that it might be Aziraphale, that he'll be alright and they can get the Hell out of this place together.
He's not so lucky, but he does round the corner to find someone locked in a fight with one of the awful white mannequins. All the exhaustion and fear he's been feeling is shoved aside, compartmentalized for a later date, as he takes quick stock of the scene, pausing at the end of the hall with the rifle raised.
When the doppelganger knocks the person to the floor, Crowley fires, landing a clean shot in the doppelganger's chest, cracking the porcelain.]
Stay down.
[He cocks the lever again, ready to take a second shot.]
closed to Archer
[So — his latest scuffle with one of the doppelgangers didn't exactly go well, judging by the deep gash on his arm and the dull pain radiating from his chest. It doesn't feel like a broken rib, but it's almost definitely bruised. The gash is more troubling, since it's bleeding so much his hand is sticky with it, his grip on the rifle difficult to maintain.
He slings it over his shoulder, draws the pistol instead, since he can use that left handed, and then he continues on his way.
Hoping to find some stray bandages or something, he slips into the next side room he comes across, trying to be quiet, closing the door carefully behind himself so nothing follows him in.]
crowley 🐍 ota
[[ooc: Aziraphale is with him for this prompt, so it'll be a three person thread with
[After a brief conversation with Rosemary that pointed him towards the school, Aziraphale had talked him into going to check it out, since it's — the right thing to do, and because he wants to know what the fuck is going on. They're both reasonably well armed, two hunting rifles and a pistol between them, a decent amount of ammo just in case they need it.
The first thing of any interest they stumble across is the surgical room, and despite Crowley's insistence that Aziraphale stay out, they both end up inside, tentatively poking through the supplies. The blood and viscera doesn't bother him that much, but he's careful not to touch anything he ought not to, when he knows human bodies are susceptible to disease and infections. None of this looks especially sterile.
When he hears footsteps nearby, he raises the rifle, though his finger stays against the trigger-guard, and puts himself between the door and Aziraphale.]
Who's there?
[Announcing himself is a risk, but he knows there are likely others of their group down here looking for the people that were taken. He'd rather not get shot by someone friendly, if they come in not knowing anyone's here.]
come and play
[Crowley is alone. There'd been a scuffle with the doppelgangers and he lost track of Aziraphale, has been searching for him ever since, trying not to panic and mostly failing.
At least he's still armed. He just has to hope that Aziraphale is, too.
And then he hears a voice calling out to him. It's been so long since he's heard it, but there's something unmistakable about it, some part of him buried deep that would know it anywhere.]
Come here, Crowley, let me take a look at you.
[If someone happens upon him, they'll be ignored as he lowers the gun and walks towards the voice, unable to stop himself.
Someone should... probably stop him.]
a timely rescue
[After — all that business, he's a lot more on edge, far more wary of the voices that call to him and careful not to walk to close to the pieces of doppelganger, even if they look to have fallen apart. The more he spends in this place, the more he regrets having come, wishing he'd ignored his curiosity and Aziraphale's insistence they do the right thing. If something's happened to him, Crowley will never forgive himself.
Not everyone is so lucky, though, and when he hears a scuffle he's quick to run towards it, hoping that it might be Aziraphale, that he'll be alright and they can get the Hell out of this place together.
He's not so lucky, but he does round the corner to find someone locked in a fight with one of the awful white mannequins. All the exhaustion and fear he's been feeling is shoved aside, compartmentalized for a later date, as he takes quick stock of the scene, pausing at the end of the hall with the rifle raised.
When the doppelganger knocks the person to the floor, Crowley fires, landing a clean shot in the doppelganger's chest, cracking the porcelain.]
Stay down.
[He cocks the lever again, ready to take a second shot.]
closed to Archer
[So — his latest scuffle with one of the doppelgangers didn't exactly go well, judging by the deep gash on his arm and the dull pain radiating from his chest. It doesn't feel like a broken rib, but it's almost definitely bruised. The gash is more troubling, since it's bleeding so much his hand is sticky with it, his grip on the rifle difficult to maintain.
He slings it over his shoulder, draws the pistol instead, since he can use that left handed, and then he continues on his way.
Hoping to find some stray bandages or something, he slips into the next side room he comes across, trying to be quiet, closing the door carefully behind himself so nothing follows him in.]