isleofavalon | What's in a name? Locked to Crowley.

Entry tags:

good omens (tv): anthony j. crowley

What's in a name? Locked to Crowley.

🧙 WHO: A new arrival and an old demon.
⚔️️ WHAT: A welcome and a new name
🕒 WHEN: Feb 16
🗺️ WHERE: Shores of the arrival lake.
⚠️ WARNINGS: Gaslighting, possible mentions/implications of abuse and/or violence. Angst. It is Good Omens and Kingdom Hearts. This may get rough. You have been warned.

The man in the black coat dragged himself out of the water. The twenty headed hydra waiting on the shore seemed almost to be laughing at him. But some of the heads were holding his weapons and a bag that looked familiar. One head leaned and whispered to him a moment, then he burst out laughing as the monster galumphed away with his stuff.

His coat was dripping wet, as was his long black and grey hair. One eye was hidden by an eye patch or gone. The other eye was gold and looked about as he tried to get his bearings.

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"Oi, that thing making off with your stuff?"

Crowley sat on a stone far enough away from the water to avoid being splashed by any of it. That stuff was cold, almost entirely frozen, and he was not in the mood to go all polar bear club. Instead he sat back, torn between being amused and shocked as he watched the monster gallop away.

"Strangest pick pocket I've ever seen."

"Not sure, but I wasn't about to tell that thing it couldn't have whatever it wanted," he said, gesticulating as he spoke. "Kind of like my spine where it is, you know?"

Crowley sneered in agreement as humans did look so uncomfortable when their spines weren't where they were intended to be.

"Incidentally, nice swam dive out there. I've never seen anyone land on their face like that."

"Takes skill," he said, spreading his arms wide. "What can I say, I guess I'm just an artist that way."

"So, Maestro..."

Crowley bobbed his head out towards the waves in a gesture meant to indicate the lady of the lake and her ice turtle minions who were still fishing people in.

"What's your name and how much did they tell you?"

He opened his mouth to reply then stopped. He scratched the back of his head. "Well how about that?" he asked, then gave an elaborate shrug. "Haven't got a clue." He seemed more amused by it, than bothered.

"Wait, you mean you don't know who you are? Did you hit your head on some ice out there?"

There were indeed rather large chunks of ice floating around out there which were too big to be called cubes and too small to be thought of as icebergs, but they might have been enough to give some one a good dose of concussion.

"Do you remember where you came from?"

"Guess I must have. Not sure, really. All a bit wet down there. I remember that. And being coughed up here or whatever. But before that?" a broad gesture with both arms that happened to splash Crowley with wet from his sleeves. But that was totally an accident right? "Nothing. The big nada. Zilch, zip, nothing. Guess that should bother me, but," he shrugged then touched his forehead, "Kinda doesn’t. Wonder what that says about me."

Edited (Subject line typos) 2021-02-17 06:55 (UTC)

Suddenly there were freezing cold wet droplets everywhere and he hadn't had a sip of that potion to keep him warm, Crowley had been counting on not getting wet for that. He tried to suppress a shiver as his thumb touched his cheek to swipe the largest of the droplets away from his skin.

"Maybe you were looking for a way to get away from it all."

All the water spray on his glasses... ugh. The demon removed them to wipe the lenses with a bit of dry shirt, this being the only thing available for such a task.

"We can't really call you nothing... How does, 'Hey you' work for you?"

"Get away from it all, huh? Not sure there's much point in that if you can't say what you were getting away from."

He noted the eyes, but said nothing, not yet. He could use that later, though, he was sure. "I dunno, nothing has a nice ring to it," he said, arms gesturing again, landing a spat of water right in those interesting looking eyes. "Hey you's a bit of a mouthful, don't you think? But it's not like I'm the one who will be having to say it all the time to get my attention." He gave a broad expressive shrug.

Right in the... ugh! Crowley nearly fell off his rock as he was temporarily blinded until a sleeve could be used to clear his vision. Then, oh... then he absolutely glared daggers at the nameless new arrival. His fingers angrily snapped causing elemental flames to rise from the ground at his summons, surrounding 'hey you'... which yes... did sound awkward when actually put to use, clearly a new name was needed here but only after the water situation had been dealt with.

"Enough with the flapping around already! You're like a bloody sprinkler!"

The flames licked around the nameless heating the air and gradually wicking the water out of his clothing until he was dry. Only then did they die away back into the sand.

"Now that you have been flame cooked, and you do have that eyepatch and all... how about Burns?"

He managed to hide the smirk through years of practicing. That had been a good shot. Couldn't have planned it better if he tried. Oh but how he wanted to laugh at the outburst. It was as though Demyx had actually gained the gumption to become interesting. And then the fire. Axel, huh? Was this just going to be the worst-of list of powers from home? Or was it just that water and fire were such classic elements for causing chaos.

He wondered if the flames around him were meant to intimidate him. Probably. So of course there was only one answer to that. He put his gloved hands out as if warming them in the flames, as though he stood before a fire place. As though he chose to be there and had no cause to fear.

When the flames died down, he figured that the attempt to spook him had failed. Or maybe his being dry now meant that the other was just trying not to get splashed anymore. If it was the second, this person was one to watch. After all, that kind of control spoke more of power than if he had tried to turn him into a crispy critter on the spot.

"Burns? Given your handiness with the flame, is that supposed to be some sort of threat?" he asked with a laugh, arms still waiving, like he was amused by it all. "Am I supposed to be scared?" he jumped back and waved his arms in mock terror, before straightening up. "As if." He laughed, hands on his hips, head thrown back.

Then he looked at him again. "Burns, huh? I suppose that's as bad as any. But what is all this about an eye patch?"

Crowley had a very ancient affinity to fire which over the centuries had only grown stronger. Not many could drive through a wall of flames without burning to a crisp themselves. That's probably why in Avalon it had been the first of his new elemental powers to make itself known and it was just as well... it's not really like one could dry anyone off to avoid being splashed again with something like ice!

If the new arrival then thought the flames had been an attempt at intimidation, hey, that was a bonus. Crowley saw no reason to correct the mistake. He merely stood up with a vague gesture towards the eye patch and slid his shades back onto his nose.

"Eyepatch, you're wearing one. It reminded me of Pete Burns. Actually... the way you are flailing around kind of reminds me of him too. He never was much of a dancer."

Clearly he hadn't met Vexen and had a limited imagination. Ice could be used in all sorts of interesting ways. Ah well.

"I think I've just been insulted," he said with a loud laugh. "But seriously, what eye patch? Like I'd wear something so uncool. As if," he said with a broad circular motion with one hand.

One eyebrow slowly arched over the rim of his glasses. It wouldn't be so funny if he wasn't standing in front of the guy looking directly at the eye patch. Did he not know he was wearing one? Was it some how only magically visible to him? Or... had the guy really hit his head that hard?

"Try touching your face."

"If you say so," he said, shrugging broadly then touched his scar under his good eye. He was openly smirking. He ran his fingers up to his eye. "Yeah, not seeing it, kiddo," he said with a laugh.

"Yeah, ok... The man blind in one eye doesn't see it."

His laugh was a sarcastic, picking up on the irony of that as he turned to trudge his way back up the beach.

"Tide's coming in, Burns. Go inland or risk getting soaked again."

"And where exactly am I going if I go inland?" He asked, walking to catch up with him and if not stopped he would, without warning, throw an arm around Crowley's shoulders.

One doesn't expect to have an arm thrown around their shoulders. Crowley certainly hadn't and he flailed under the sudden weight as 'no touchie' as he could be but of course... the arm had already landed and simply wiggling around like a snake wasn't freeing him.

"The carriages up on the hill, then to Camelot and some over crowded hotel..." Squirm, shift, "Tch! Are you always this touchie feelie?"

"How should I know?" he asked, with a laugh. "So there a point to going to buy camels or are we just going there to browse?" he asked, his free arm gesturing abselntly to the carriages that the other mentioned. If he had noticed the demon squirming he gave no sign.

There was a point in there, asking an amnesiac what he is usually like... how would he know indeed. Crowley's eyes practically rolled.

"Not Camels! Camelot!"

For a moment he felt like he were talking to Aziraphale and correcting some badly used slang.

"Its a city. With King Arthur and the Round table. You've been brought here to help save it."

"Not a whole lot of camels for sale then?" he asked, scratching his head. "If you asked me, they should have chosen another name for it, then." Really, the hardest part was keeping a straight face. But he did it, of course. "I've een brought here to save a table? As if! I don't care what this king wrote, this is just too crazy for me," he said, waving his free arm again.

"No camels."

He deadpanned, as a disinterested glare was leveled at Burns and his flapping arm. Was he trying to take off with that? He needed more feathers to fly...

"And oddly enough you ride in the carriage not underneath it," This said as he reached out to open the door of the nearest carriage. The sooner Burns was in there the sooner he wasn't draped all over him.

"Get in. Sit. Maybe some one will be able to explain all this to you in town."

"Ah don't worry about it," that hand moved from around his shoulders to slap his back in a way that could have been friendly if it hadn't had so much force behind it. "You're doing a fine job. You can keep explaining it on the ride to this table that must be protected or whatever," he said with a laugh, making no move to get in the carriage yet.

You didn't think you were escaping that easily, did you?

Crowley was a bean pole and not exactly the sort one could just slap on the back without his going flying. Fortunately for him when he did lurch forward he ended up landing inside that open carriage where he could turn and glower at his new friend like the demon he was beginning to suspect he was.

"I'm not. I'm no tour guide."

Since the other was already in the carriage, he saw no reason not to get in too. And block the entrance. Or as the other might wish, exit. Though he seemed unaware that he was in the way. "Who said I wanted a tour?" he asked with a grin. A grin that was just a little it too far on the wrong side of menacing. And a voice to match.

Creeper vibes. Crowley hadn't been in a position before to really have any idea what humans meant when they had spoken of creeper vibes but now he suspected that smile would qualify.

"Yeah... look... What ever you're planning its not happening. I'm seeing some one and not interested. You can get all those 'making out in the back of a carriage' ideas out of your head, right now."

"As if," he said with a laugh. "I may not remember much, but pretty sure I remember enough to not be interested," he said with an insulting smirk.

"But, if you can't remember anything how can you be sure?"

At least the bloke had been insulted. Shocking or insulting him into acting more normal had been the goal, but if neither of those was to work there was always the direct approach.

"Just keep your hands to yourself and I won't have to practice electricity. Humans are very good conductors of it..."

Threat leveled Crowley looked out the window just long enough to watch the other new arrivals being packed into their carriages and the lead horse playing up because he wanted to be on his way already. It was a feeling Crowley could appreciate.

"Do you remember anything, at all?"

"Cause I look at you and don't feel a thing," he said with a smirk as he dropped into a seat, stretching out his legs to block the exit after he pulled the carriage door closed.

He said nothing about keeping his hands to himself, because they both knew that wasn't going to happen. But what the other guy was clearly worried about was also not going to happen. As if. But he made no promises against an arm drape or a back slap. They were great for knocking people off balance. Mentally as well as physically.

"Nope. Not a lickity split thing," he said with an expressive shrug. "I mean I seem to know what the sky is and I can picture a table, but that's about it."

"If you can picture a table then it will be that much easier to protect one."

As that was what Burns seemed to think they were doing there was no reason to correct that. It likely wouldn't have been understood even if he had tried so why bother. Instead Crowley reclined in the seat beside and sulked out the window... before knocking rudely on the roof to annoy the coachman.

"Hey, you up there! Jingle the reins already! Let's get this caravan moving!"

"HEH!" he barked a laugh and kicked the seat his feet were against with a force that was probably an indicator that had they been walking he'd have clapped Crowley on the back again."Can't fault you on that logic," he said with a grin. And he also quite enjoyed the other's yelling at the driver.

This was going to be good for some fun after all.

The carriage lurked forward as the lead horses pulled it from the mud it had become briefly stuck in and then the ride settled into a gentle rocking as they trundled down the road. Crowley also settled in to watch the scenery go by. It was SO SLOW, that he found himself missing motorcars, the stink of gasoline fumes and more importantly the pure speed that could be at your beck and call if only you pressed that one petal to the ground.

"If you keep clammed up like this, it's gonna be a long ride," he said, waving a hand dramatically. "You said you're with someone right? Don't people who are in love like to gush or whatever?" He asked in a way that sounded more threatening and irritated than polite.

His eyes barely shifted from the window to glare at his traveling companion.

"No."

Aziraphale would have. That angel would have gushed about their first meeting, their new house, maybe even the cute way Crowley slept at night. This was a trait which made Aziraphale very charming really but it was not one Crowley himself indulged in, especially not with a guy that made everything he said sound like a threat.

"You want to talk about something, how about music? Do you remember any of that?"

"Can't say that I do. What, gonna sing for me?" he asked with a smirk. "World's tiniest violin?"

"I don't sing in stringed instrument."

Or at all. He did like to listen to others sing but it's not like one could have a conversation about their favorite Queen songs if Burns couldn't even remember having ever heard any...

"I'll have them drop you off at the clinic. Maybe they can do something magical to deal with that memory loss."

"And let them decide that a blow to the head will either cure me of amnesia or my winning personality?" he asked with a grin. "As if."

"You have to admit..."

It was the perfect setup. All Crowley had to do was roll his head and stare at the guy.

"Either way it would be an improvement."

He knows how he comes across. He smirked. "I dunno. I think I'd like to actually see my face before I let someone smash it in."

"It might be better not to."

The carriage rocked slightly as they dropped a wheel into a pothole and then climbed back up on the other side.

"You eliminate all mystery with a mirror... and any chance of ever being a model."

He laughed. It wasn't exactly a nice laugh. He slapped his thigh. "That from personal experience?" he asked, smirking a bit, eye glinting.

"I'm not the one with the eyepatch you can't tell is there even by touching it or the giant scar which runs down your cheek..."

They did both have the creepy yellow eyes but why point that out.

"I'd ask what sort of war you have been in to get that messed up but it's not like you would know."

"Nah you're the one who has hair that looks like that," he said with a broad wave at the other's hair and a wicked smirk.

"Yeah, trendy and not..."

Crowley tilted his head as if more deeply observing the other's doo.

"What would you call that style, skunk-like or just old?"

"If that's what passes for trendy around here I think I'll go my own way," he said with a smirk. "Though maybe I'm not the only one who took a head wound if you think I know what my hair looks like." He shook his head a bit, gesturing broadly with one arm. He felt a it like Demyx flailing about while sitting, but that was fine.

Crowley gestured with his own arm, mock flapping Burn's many similar gestures.

"What is that anyway? Your arm keep falling asleep?"

"As if," he said with a laugh. And... did not answer the question. But he did gesture. So there was that.

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What's in a name? Locked to Crowley.

Excuse you... old... :P

Fair enough, he is a kid compared to Xiggy

Ignore me I'm just being silly

Ignore you? NEVER!

Too kind! ^_^

Not just kind enough? :D

Oh, if you like ^^

You're my friend, of course I like.

^_^V

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