voidtreckerexpress | Open- Crowley August Catch-all.

Entry tags:

Open- Crowley August Catch-all.

Who: Crowley & OPEN
Where: Various places on-board.
When: Various days of the second half of Grasshopper (feel free to specify
What: An August catch-all! Various prompts within for on-board only. Event tags will be kept to appropriate event posts.
Warnings: Crowley.

Sleeper Car 7B:Open to roommates or anyone who may want to visit by knocking on the door.
Crowley isn't totally fond of their sleeping situation, the beds are quite small and take a great amount of effort to snuggle up to one's partner within, and there are two other people sharing the room with them so they aren't allowed any privacy. Of course, there's also the very annoying daily reset.

The silver lining here is that Crowley no longer needs sleep to survive. While it is certainly one of his favorite hobbies, he only really spends any time doing it after being reset and feeling a bit too lazy to move (or, if he can coil up in a corner of a private room in the form of a large serpent).

Kitchen/Dining Cars:Featuring the wobbledog.
It's merely a coincidence that it's Orange Team's chore to cook this month. Crowley has very much renounced any affiliation with a team, refuses to wear their colors, and moves with his own agenda. Cooking has only become a thing worth practicing because he wishes to please Aziraphale with a meal that isn't overly burnt or underseasoned. He sneaks off when he can to practice certain recipes, often diverging from them completely (what do you expect, he's a rule-breaker). He's no professional but at least what he's making is starting to feel more edible.

The wobbledog trails behind him in the kitchen, slurping up scraps as they fly down from the counter. Crowley never bothers throwing his food waste away properly, why would he? There's a living vacuum that seems to be taking care of it for him. Any time the dog gets too close, he shakes a leg at it, shooing it away and grumbling at it irritatingly.

Food that he's used for practice is left in the dining hall where he knows it will be consumed. One evening however, after he feels as if he's perfected his meal, he plates it and carries it off to the quiet car to be enjoyed privately...

Quiet Car, inside a private booth:Closed to Aziraphale
He had asked Aziraphale to meet him in one of the private booths at a specified time, and had finished cooking a lovely carrot risotto. His plating had always looked nice, the demon has always had an eye for art or style, so making a dish visually appealing was never an issue. The flavor and appearance of the food itself took more practice, and compared to an island-survival fish meal or burnt eggs and bacon on the train, this was fairly impressive.

Crowley set out the plates, having also secured a bottle of white wine, something a bit floral that paired well with the meal. He waited until he saw the angel in the window to open the bottle, wanting to keep it chilled and fresh as long as possible. Tucked behind him in his seat was a book of romantic poetry, or at least that was what he had asked for, a gift for his beloved.
Crowley stood with the bottle, opening the door for Aziraphale with a warm smile and showing him to his seat before pouring them each a glass.

"I hope you've got an appetite."

Games Coach:Featuring a softer Crowley & Demon Daycare, Wobbledog potential as well.
Alice had asked Crowley to watch after the younger version of herself now and again. While Crowley had never met the younger girl, the suggestion to occupy the younger children on the train had been taken to heart. Crowley knew that the normal corporation worn was a bit sharp around the edges and previously, the demon had even made an entire new persona for watching over the young child she was in care of. While Crowley didn't make the effort to completely embody Nanny Ashtoreth, a darker Mary Poppins-inspired persona that would appeal to the wealthy family she desired to nanny for, she did attempt to soften up her look. Her hair, which had grown rather long on top after spending several months in another world was parted neatly just off to the side, red curls framing her face nicely. She still wore glasses, but had miracled himself a pair with a more rounded look, tortoiseshell with gold accents. She kept her tight black jeans and snakeskin shoes but wore a sleek button up shirt, black with a red bow accent at the collar. Her lips were painted to match.

While her features were still very much Crowley, she looked different enough for there to be deniability that it was her. Those who had met Crowley presenting more femme may catch on, as would anyone acutely aware that she has many forms. It was a comfortable enough bridge for Crowley that she still felt herself.

Crowley had never taken the time to properly look around the gaming car, and could be found sorting through the selection available, sneering at anything that promoted kindness or teamwork.

Wildcard:Pitch me a prompt!
Crowley can often be found around the train, potentially up to no good or bored out of his mind. The greenhouse is visited frequently to check in on his plot and the hole the wobbledog had built there. The cinema is a frequent stop when the demon is particularly bored. The dressing carriage may be visited when feeling particularly vain or seeking out new styles. One might even run into Crowley in the halls. Anything is game, and feel free to poke me on plurk or discord to work something out, but it's totally not necessary. (Plurk is

dukevendetta and discord is trashwitch666#9299)

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The angel wondered what the demon was up to when he asked him to meet him at a specific time. They don't really do specific times, not when they're locked in a train like this (safe for the reset, which is entirely out of their control).

He can smell the food before he reaches the door for the cabin, which does peak his interest, but it's the view that greets him through the window that makes him smile before he can help it.

"What's all this, then?" He asks cheerfully, almost giddy, as he steps into the room and is ushered to his seat. A look at the impressive dish in front of him, before smiling up at the demon again. "Crowley?"

Senku was not a restless sleeper.

He did however, seem to follow some unknown schedule. He didn't sleep very much, although whether or not he was waking with the sun was debatable with the void outside the window. When he was asleep, he would sleep on his side and silently. He woke up often, sometimes with a little gasp, sometimes because of some noise he heard.

He probably should've made a bit more of an effort than none to get to know his roommates, but as he entered the car this particular afternoon, he looked a bit grateful for the company. He'd been all too happy to take a bottom bunk, but he sat on the floor instead between the bunks.

"Hey." He greeted, which was probably a bit generous considering he'd been pretty quiet and detached so far. He probably had always looked like he'd been lost in thought, although at the moment with a book on his lap, he'd like anything but that.

"Chainsaw, no." Ronan is actually in the kitchen because cooking is the Orange Chore. He's not actually looking at what his raven happens to be doing but he can tell she's thinking about antagonizing the dream-dog that's been eating Crowley's scraps. "It's not bothering you. Don't bother it."

"Krek," Chainsaw says unhappily. "Kerah, krek."

"It's not a krek." He tosses the carrots and potatoes into the pot of onions that've been going for a few minutes. "Your dog's just a magic creature, yeah?"

It occurs to Ronan that, potentially, he should explain what a "krek" is and how that would differ from just being. A magic creature. He doesn't, though, because that's complicated and he actually doesn't want to get into explaining his powers and how they're slightly to the left of magic before the question gets answered.

Glorfindel came in with a canister of flour and some other supplies from the supply car. He smiled when he saw Crowley, and even nodded politely at the wobbledog.

"Hello, fine evening for whipping up something in the kitchen," he said with a glowing smile. He picked a counter a little way away, as he would be rolling out dough and didn't want to crowd the other. He got out a big bowl, and without as much as a measuring cup, started pouring in various powders, then cracked a couple of eggs, before slowly starting to mix in some milk.

"How is your dish coming?" he asked, his hands covered in the floury doughy mess he was making.

One little girl is sprawled on a beanbag in the games room. She isn't actually playing a game, she is reading a book but the beanbags were the comfiest place to sit on the train so she had nabbed one.

She is pretty engrossed with In This House You May Scream and is over half way. It's slow going not because it is boring or her reading speed but because there are so many concepts that she doesn't understand.

Even with her nose deep in a book she is aware of the woman in the game car. She didn't recognise her. She had studied the roster as usual when the new arrivals had come but honestly, it is getting harder to keep track.

She had always been used to people coming and going in the inn but they were never people she needed to know the names of or care about for any length of time. She was not used to keeping track of large amounts of people and even with a list it is hard. Or she is getting lazy after half a year.

Still a person she doesn't know gets some of her attention, a wary look. Most people on this train are so good it is painful but there are always threats and she is not so lazy she will put her guard down, not even for a fascinating book.

She saw the sneer though as she picked a game up near where she lay. She recognises the box, she had looked at it herself. Some stupid game about matching cards to help people who were sad get obvious items that would make them not sad.

"That one do be being stupid." She warned.

While Alice may be aware that Crowley doesn't have just one form, having seen him change from a snake to a more human-like appearance, it's not as if she's already realised he can change his looks to this degree.

So when Alice is making her way through the train - more passing through the gaming carriage than really planning on spending any time there, honestly - and spots her today, it makes her stop mid-step for a moment. And look.

There's no denying that this person here looks very, very much like Crowley, but at the same time the differences are obvious. Alice does wonder if it's Crowley, but at the same time she isn't sure whether to ask. It's not often that Alice cares about politeness, but Crowley had been kind to her back when they spoke. Kinder than most people in her life had been, anyway. It's enough for Alice to want to not be rude to her if she can help it.

So after thinking it over for a moment, she approaches the other as Crowley is busy sorting through some of the games. Alice clears her throat slightly, as if to try and grab her attention.

"We've.." She hesitates, as if to find the right wording. ".. met before. Right?"

Look, this is the best way she can figure of how to ask whether she's Crowley without potentially offending some other woman who just happens to really look like the demon.

Edited 2020-08-08 14:43 (UTC)

"Dinner, angel, what does it look like?" he replies, finishing the pour before taking his seat. The bottle of wine is set to chill beside them in a small bucket of ice.

"I've needed something to do while you're off reading, so I've been practicing a risotto... there's only so much you can do with carrots."

Crowley replies with a friendly nod, sliding onto his own mattress, which had been pushed back into more of a bench for the day.

"If you need a bit of privacy, I'm happy to pop out for a bit. Just needed to get away from..." his hand waves off, gesturing at the hallway in a buzzing sort of way. "Crowded out there."

"Nah." He shook his head. "I was just reading to pass the time."

Senku glanced at the door when he mentioned out there and nodded slightly. "Crowds aren't really my thing, naturally, anyway." That was true enough, but part of the problem Senku had was that he was bored.

Risotto! Actual risotto. Oh, what a spoiled angel is he.

"Well, it smells wonderful. Looks wonderful, too." As he inspects the dish, polite enough to wait, if excited, to dig in. "I did invite you to join me, but if this is what you do when I'm occupied, I might retract my invitation."

The dog is so aloof it doesn't even realize that the bird is paying any attention to it. It's mostly focused on food, pawing at Crowley's leg, and making him miserable.

"Hm?" Crowley turns back, looking at Ronan for a moment, his eyebrows perked up and over his glasses. "Oh, not my dog." he answers casually.

He's stirring rice in a pot, a second pot beside it bubbling with boiling water. He picks that pot up and splashes a bit of the water inside, setting it back down on the flame while he continues stirring. Such a tedious dish.

"It's from another world... I don't know... it just kind of exists."

Crowley wasn't an extremely social type, comfortable to stand in silence beside others while he tediously stirred at the risotto so that it wouldn't stick and burn. There was still about a half of the boiling water beside him to be added, but for a dish like this, patience was key.

"Ngh... it's fine." he grunted, checking the heat he had on his pan, making sure it was up high enough. The water wasn't boiling away in the rice quite as fast as he hoped it would. "Think it'll be a while."

Crowley's eyes darted over to the child beside her, recognizing her and her oddly patterned words from another conversation in an entirely different form. She smiled, but her smile was a bit odd considering you couldn't see her eyes beyond the dark spectacles she wore, fashionable as they were.

"Yes, I agree." she spoke, picking up a different game instead, one that encouraged fierce competition and destroying your opponents. "Too soft. Nothing to learn from. How do you feel about this one?"

Crowley smiles as Alice asks her question, a look of amusement on her face. The car is fairly empty, so the demon pulls her sunglasses down from her eyes, revealing them to the girl. With those eyes in the picture, one really couldn't mistake Crowley for anyone else.

"We have." she answers shortly, dropping whatever game she had been holding back on the shelf so that she could lean on it herself.

"I didn't think I was so forgettable."

Joscelin has been feeling distinctly under the weather these last few days. He completely slept through their latest stop at the platform, waking only when the train jolted back into Void Space.

Is he getting a cold? That’s something humans do, isn’t it?

Either way, he wanders into the Games Car one afternoon, looking for something to do. He starts to lay out a game of solitaire but falls asleep at the table while he’s still dealing the cards.

Some time later, he jerks awake, feeling that someone is watching him. “May I help you?”

"It's not your dog, but it follows you around and you feed it?"

That sounds to him like saying Chainsaw is "not his bird." That would be worse, actually, because Ronan made Chainsaw so at least this dog appears to be someone else's dreamthing. If it is a dreamthing, which Ronan kind of doubts. It looks like one, certainly, but it doesn't feel like one.

Those eyes she most definitely recognizes - and so it's a quick answer as to what she was wondering about. Though Crowley's amused look coupled with the answer makes her roll her eyes slightly at the other.

Or, well, Alice would like for it to be a dismissive eyeroll. Instead she almost looks a little pouty about it, but she'd never admit to that.

"Am I just supposed to assume every new person I see on the train is you now? That's going to get rather awkward on the days the train stops at a platform." She pauses, and then the poutiness even manages to slip through into her voice-- "I was just trying to be polite."

Rolling the dough into a ball, he spread some flour on the counter and started kneading it.

"What is it you are making?" he asked. He's never seen that method of making rice before.

"Hm." he acknowledged Senku with a noise as he did often, but demons could carry entire conversations using only grunts, really.

"Crowds aren't usually the problem, but the space is small... Too small, anyway." he noted, fingers tapping on the mattress beside him.

"Yes, well, this one too a bit more practice than I'd like to admit." he murmurs, poking at it with his utensil, "But I believe I've cracked it. Hopefully you approve?"

He waits then, watching for Aziraphale to give it a try. He's more interested in the angel's approval than tasting it himself.

So could scientists who occasionally seemed to live in their own heads, so he wasn't put out by the lack of a reaction, he was prone to doing it too, when he was lost in thought.

"Claustrophobic? That would make this place a nightmare." Senku agreed with a bit of a nod.

"Never had that problem, which is lucky, because I had wanted to be squished into a tiny space on something explosive and be shot into space."

"I'm not feeding it." he answers shortly, having not even realized he'd been doing so. It had become a habit at this point. The first time he'd practiced the dish he dropped something on accident, and the floor ended up cleaner than it was when he'd began. After that, it was obvious to him that any scraps should be swept to the floor for wobbledog scrounging.

"Really, it's not mine. I don't even like the thing."

Stirring eternally, Crowley spares the elf a lazy glance.

"Ah-- er, risotto." he notes, looking into the pot for a moment to inspect the water level, then adding a little more. "I think you have to do it like this or it won't get creamy." he shrugs, "Something scientific, I guess."

"You are polite." she notes, a half-smile on her face that shows that might have been a bit of a tease. "You could assume that, that might be fun. Especially when you get it wrong."

Crowley pushes herself off of the shelving and slinks to a nearby seating area, plopping down on a chair into a mess of limbs, not unlike the snake piled high on itself that Alice had once met before.

"Would you like to play a card game? I know several."

Crowley knows a little something about children. They don't fall asleep mid-game unless there's something terribly wrong. Warlock, the child she'd been assigned to watch after, didn't get sick often, but Crowley also tended to hover, ensuring his safety at every turn. Seeing a child like this in the middle of the games carriage could mean anything. Certainly their atmosphere wouldn't contribute to healthy habits and without someone properly caring for a child, they may not be sick, but unwell all the same.

There were blankets thrown across a nearby chair, and Crowley snatched one as she moved closer, ready to drape it over Joscelin's shoulders and let the child snooze it out right there. No one was looking, one good deed certainly wouldn't do any harm.

"Hm?" She replied, her eyebrows raised above her glasses as she clutched the blanket to her chest. "No, I don't think so. But you were asleep, just now. The other kids will probably poke fun."

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Open- Crowley August Catch-all.

Dinner date

Sleeper Car 7B

kitchen

Kitchen!

daycare

games coach

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Daycare

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