logsinthenight | if it wasn't for disappointment

Entry tags:

if it wasn't for disappointment

characters: Rosalind Lutece, Crowley
location: In her lab
date/time: 9/2, after the meeting
content: Two selfish jerks talk

[Last time, on Glee . . .

It's not a far walk from the town hall to her laboratory, a slightly slapdash building that's worth a lot more on the inside than the outside. Bits of equipment half-assembled rest on varying tables, as well a few miscellaneous projects.]

A powerful ally, you said.

[She turns, setting her lantern down on a table, staring at him fearlessly in the dark.]

But here, you aren't particularly powerful, are you? You're as dead as I am.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well, aren't I?

[Crowley leans a little in the doorway, like a snake curling up in a corner.

Is he resting? Is he about to strike? Oh, that's up for you to decide.]

After all, no one knows what we all can do while we're here. All we know is we're not supposed to leave.

Then show me what you can do.

[She says it just a touch challengingly.]

Go on. Impress me.

What would you like me to do? Tell you all your great sins?

Tempt you into others?

[He might be flirting. He might just be tempting. Difficult to tell, he is a demon.]

Or I could burn your lab down with a bit of Hellfire---with you in it, of course----won't cause any light, but it wouldn't be any fun for you.

[He snaps a hand and a dark ball of fire appears on one palm.]

[She's a snappy retort to those first two, because it takes a great deal more than that to get her to go uncertain and flustered. But then he threatens that, and oh, then she goes rigid. She straightens up, and what was almost playful arrogance in her gaze has become something far, far colder.]

Is that a threat?

[His smile doesn't even falter.]

You're the one who wants a demon to show you what they can do.

[He takes a step forward.]

A demonstration is very, very different than what you just offered me.

[She stands her ground: not moving towards him, but certainly not backing away. She'd never get anywhere if she cowered in face of a man with a grin and a smarmy attitude.

(Not that this is a man, something in her quietly whispers. Not that he has any of the morality or limits ordinary men do-- but then again, it's not as if ordinary men have limits either, she's seen the depths of what they'll do to get what they want).]

Are you that insecure after your death that you have to go around threatening potential allies? Or do you not think that far ahead?

What were you expecting, exactly?

[Are the shadows in the room stretching around Crowley? Are they twisting around his feet in the shape of snakes, or is that just the light?]

From the Serpent of Eden?

[He pulls off his sunglasses to reveal his eyes----golden with long slits down the center, like a snake's]

A few good card tricks? I do know a few of those.

[The eyes throw her for just a moment. She hadn't expected that, and it's rare she doesn't expect something. There's a sharp inhale, a moment's pause, but she doesn't tear her eyes from his.

Now she steps forward, and isn't that an interesting moment to choose to do so.]

I expected you to be more sensible. Not intent on trying to frighten me like a child. Are you going to set my lab aflame? Kill me? Then do it.

You don't seem particularly frightened.

[Which is good, really. Last thing Crowley needs right now is someone who is going to be afraid of the things he can do.]

How did you see this going? That we'd be peers? Equals? A human and a demon?

[She's not full of fear, but there is a tendril: just enough to show she isn't insane. She's well aware of the danger she's in. She's just more angry than afraid.]

I suppose I could grant you that courtesy.

[Meaning, of course, that she'd be the one elevating him, not vice-versa.]

In the spirit of cooperation. And you, in turn, will put that flame out.

[Humans are funny like that. He has been summoned to do all manner of stupid things in his life, and he's not about to be in that situation with her. Even if he does like her.

Which is sort of hard not to do. She's interesting.]

Just remember, it's back with a thought.

[Flame out.]

What can you do, exactly? Since we're showing off.

[There, and she exhales, relaxing very slightly. Ironically, it was her laboratory she was more worried about. It's not that she wants to burn to (second) death, but, well. Priorities.]

Do I look like a parlor trick magician? My gifts lie in the realm of knowledge. Besides: this was about you impressing me. You're the one who desperately needs something I have.

[That being said: she still heads over to her desk. But hm . . . she pauses and reaches for a bottle, pouring a generous amount of liquid on her palm. Gets a match, sets it to her hand, and--

--ah. A palm full of fire of her own, though eerily, it doesn't offer light. Just burns there for a long few seconds.]

[Crowley doesn't know a damn thing about science. So, really, this is actually pretty impressive to him. Especially because she does it so easily.]

Have you worked out why fire doesn't create light here?

Or anything that's supposed to produce light. Not even divine light shines here.

No. Although I suspect it's something to do with those World Eaters. A fair few otherwise ironclad laws of science simply don't work here.

[Her fingers close, extinguishing the flame. Absently, she wipes her hand on a rag, secretly pleased the trick had worked. She could make a much more sustained flame-- honestly, she could do so many wondrous things-- but for on the fly, that was rather well done.]

There are other oddities here. I wonder . . .

[A beat, and her voice drifts just a bit. She forgets him in front of her, forgets that they're still technically in a stand-off.]

I wonder if that's something else they eat. Or perhaps the spirits . . . or perhaps I simply have to stop thinking of this place as working along the same rules one normally does.

Hm.

[Ah, though, focus--]

In any case. We've gotten a bit off track, haven't we? I still haven't agreed to be your ally.

Why wouldn't you, though?

[he gives her a fairly innocent look]

Wouldn't do you good to be my enemy.

Oh, go back to tempting, I liked that better. Offer me something, why don't you?

[He offers her a smile.]

And what do you want? Power? Knowledge? Stock tips?

Oh, please. I had plenty of money at home, and it does me no use here. Knowledge I have in spades.

[She takes a step forward, and then another, approaching him with an enormous amount of confidence.]

What I want, Crowley . . . is for you to direct people my way. I want you to meet someone and tell them that I'm the person to see when it comes to science, or math, or knowledge in general. I want something to do, Crowley, and for people to do as I say, so that I can get out of here all the faster and save my Robert before he dies.

Understand?

I'm nobody's maitre'd. You want them to come to your table, you have to give them something they want to eat.

[But then again...]

Of course, with the right sort of temptation on you, people would come to you anyway. They'd find you irresistible, not be able to deny you their information, their ideas.

[Oh. Oh, and she smiles, slow and pleased, her eyes alight. He's at least a foot taller than her, if not more, but that doesn't seem to matter much to her as she reaches him.]

Make that into a physical attraction and I promise you, you'll reap what you sow. But. I rather think that kind of temptation can work out perfectly.

[She offers her hand.]

[He looks down at his hand, and it rather feels like he's making a deal with the Devil if he shakes it.]

And for me?

Not that your allyship isn't the best thing in the whole wide universe, but if I'm going to be blessing you with temptability, I need to know I'm not just working for free.

Oh, Crowley.

[She smiles, and it's awful, it really is.]

You'll be getting out of here. Isn't that enough?

In three years. Bit of a gap there.

[Yes, he's criticizing her, but the tone is definitely not matching the words. It's just on the edge of extremely flirtatious.]

And I understand we may not have that much time here. Might be reset at any moment. Might get all eaten up by those World Eaters.

[Oh. Oh, well, isn't that flattering? Or deeply insulting, perhaps, given what he is and what he's approaching her with. But either way, it's a dynamic she hadn't expected, and now one she's considering it at the speed of light, trying it at all angles just to see which one gets her the best result.]

Then I suggest you either find a way to speed up my work-- an impossibility, and I'll bet you anything on that-- or you find a way to give me more time.

But you'll have to be content with the terms of my deal, because I'll give you no better.

So just so that I'm aware---you get the best temptation from one of the best demons in the universe.

I get the promise of exit one year after the entire town is destined to fall apart.

[He makes a tsk tsk sound]

Do me one better, Rosalind, I know you've got it in you.

[Yes is on the tip of her tongue as he states that incredulously. Yes, that's precisely right. But if he's going to insist on it . . .]

That wasn't your best temptation to me.

[A quiet correction. It's tempting, yes, but if he'd truly wanted her in his debt, if he was as powerful as he pretends to be, he'd offer to bring Robert back to life.]

A favor, then. Just one. And it had best be something I'm amenable towards.

[He considers her, and the swirl of things in her life he can't see. He's so out of practice with temptations. Eleven years of working with the angel to stop the world ending. Damn.

Still, her offer is exactly the sort of thing he was looking for. His lips curl into a smile.]

I like favors.

I won't call on it immediately, but it won't be something you'll be particularly pleased about, otherwise why would I ask it of a human?

[A grin appears on his face and fades slightly in hers, because she hates owing people like this. But still she keeps her hand held out, because this is too good not to agree to.]

I suppose we'll see, won't we? Don't make it vulgar. Or push your luck.

[He reaches out a hand as well, gripping hers with his]

Pushing my luck is one of my favorite pasttimes.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

if it wasn't for disappointment

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject