entrancelogs | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: Meg and Closed (Crowley and Angel)
Where: At first a random staircase where she runs into Crowley, then on to the stables to give Angel a hard time.
When: Feb 29th March 3rd
Rating: M for potty mouths I'm sure
Summary: As usual, she doesn't appreciate events when they happen. News at 11.
The Story:
When everything decides it's about time to go haywire again, Meg finds herself on a staircase. At first, she was tense, wondering if this was some kind of death trap. There's always some part of her on high alert around the mansion, knowing it's tendency to go all nutso at the drop of a hat.

After it's done doing the whole breaking off into pieces routine and nothing actually happens, she relaxes a smidge. Now, she's more curious than anything.

Leaning against the railing, she has herself a look around. Kinda unexpected, but she's stopped trying to predict what the mansion will do next. At least it breaks up the monotony and boredom of life around this hell hole.

Now what? Well, she's just going to ponder on that as she rests her elbows against the railing, watching the other pieces of the mansion as she thinks on that particular problem.

For the moment, she's alone. There's no telling how long that will last.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Crowley moves along from one chunk of the mansion to another. It's a little tiring, more because he can't find very much of interest than because of the exertion of the act, but he's still feeling weary by the time he sees Meg stranded on her little staircase.

At first, he thinks that he's too tired and busy to deal with her, but really when is he too tired and busy to revel in Meg's discomfort?

He floats his way over, landing on the top step so that he can stand over her.

"Don't tell me you're trapped here."

As soon as she sense his presence, she rolls her eyes. Whatever entity is running the show in Wonderland must hate her something fierce if Crowley's managed to come her way.

"Don't see how it's any of your business, Crowley." Actually, she'd been pondering a little traveling of her own, looking for someone to keep her company in some manner. Locking herself up in her room works, but it's so damn boring. "Shouldn't you be off scaring the good people of Wonderland with that mug of yours?"

"I was regaling everyone with the beauty of my visage, but then I saw you and I wanted to come say hello." He smiles, more like a cheeky shark than an old friend.

"I've just gone home for a year and you'll be happy to know that you're still quite dead and no one seems to miss you, not even Cas."

The look she gives him is bored, her eyebrows raised just the slightest, as if to say And?

"How sad for me." She deadpans as she turns away from him, annoyed. Yeah, sure, she helped out and distracted the dick while the Hunters Two made their escape. Was it too much to ask for a little recognition, even after the fact?

"Let me guess. You've managed to worm your way back into their good graces and are using them to get what you want." Not really a guess, since that's what practically any demon would do. "Sam told me Abaddon's back. You running scared, Crowley?"

And now she'll turn back to face him, tilting her head just the slightest as she looks at him. She's gleaned enough from conversations with Sam to know Abaddon means business with a capital B.

"Of her? Why would I be scared?"

Not that that's a No. Of course he's scared. Abaddon is a force to be reckoned with and he'd be a fool not to be concerned by that whole... situation. Add to it the fact that he's just spent months locked up in various tight spaces with too much time and too many Winchesters on his hands.

"I am working with them again, but don't worry. I'm sure you're still their favorite pet after Castiel."

He looks her up and down as if she's made of trash. Really, she is to him.

She's not buying what he's selling when it comes to Abaddon, but she doesn't call him out. She just smirks, because even she would watch her step with a Knight of Hell.

"Oh, no reason, I'm sure." She says sarcastically as she leans against the banister beside her, looking completely at ease. Which she isn't, of course she isn't - letting her guard down around Crowley is just asking for it. His look doesn't go unnoticed, but she just bares her teeth at him in a mockery of a sweet smile. "Jealous, Crowley? Don't worry, I'm sure they'll put a pen out back for you somewhere. You can have your very own dog house and everything."

"Aw, can I?" He grins, mocking and cruel. "Do you think Moose will take me for walkies?"

It drops in an instant and he rolls his eyes.

"Get bent, whore. I've got no interest in being leashed the way you are. That's why I'm the King and you're rotting in the ground."

He does want to work with the Winchesters, of course, but he wants a partnership and that isn't what he sees between Meg and the rest of their group. She serves them the same way she served Lucifer.

It's a bit sad, really. At the end of the day, she's just looking to replace Daddy the same as Castiel, and there's no way Dean can live up to God or Lucifer. He'll get them both killed in the end. Crowley might even miss Cas a little, but he's not too torn up about having to kill Meg.

As far as he's concerned, she stepped into his blade. She wanted to die for them or she wouldn't have even tried to fight him. Even when Wonderland brings up all that human guilt, her blood doesn't make him feel bad in the least.

It takes effort, but she doesn't fly at him with claws extended like she so desperately wants to.

Crowley is scum, something to scrap off her shoe when she steps into something nasty and rotting. He might have an inflated sense of self worth, but she can't say that's not something all demons share - it just pisses her off extra hard when it's Crowley.

"Big words for a little man." She can do condescending, too. "Tell me, when do you act like King of anything? All I see you doing around here is sucking up to the popular kids in class. So kingly of you."

Crowley is everything that's wrong in Hell - the old guard knew how to run it, how to control those of a lower tier (and she's always considered Crowley lower than her). The power of self preservation has kept her from outright murdering him, but there's no telling how long that fuse will last.

Crowley turns his chin up, but there's a moment when anger flashes on his face.

"If you're referring to Dean, he and I are buddies where I'm from. You wouldn't know that, but we're working together as partners."

He raises an eyebrow, daring her to think otherwise. This Dean may not remember it, but he and Crowley are going to take down Abaddon together and it's going to be beautiful. There's a new understanding there now, he thinks. Maybe there's a future there where they can work together agreeably, even.

It's what he's wanted all along, anyway. It's not his fault that the Winchesters and Cas ruin everything.

She barks out a laugh at this - a loud sound, and the look she gives him in incredulous.

"You're joking, right?" It's out before she can stop herself, because why should she care about Crowley getting cozy with Dean? They deserve each other as far as she's concerned. And yet... "Doesn't matter how many demons Dean Winchester works with, he will take you down before you can say 'Please, sir, can I have some more'."

Out of the Heroes Three, Dean is the one to turn on someone the quickest. His never wavering loyalty to his family and BFF angel means anyone else is garbage to be tossed aside.

Bitter? Yes, she is. Meg's still pissed off about Christmas, about what she saw. Playing nice with Dean means he's off her back and off her case, and right now that's all she wants from him.

"Maybe he's changed. You don't know what we've all been through together."

He shrugs and holds up his hands to check his nails. Meg is complete dirt as far as he's concerned and he needs her to understand that. Her barbs won't get to him.

"Anyway, I have to be going. There are more important people than you out there to see."

For example, everyone.

He's got his own reasons to be bitter and angry about any myriad of things and he's got no reason to not express it.

"That's cute. Very high school, Crowley. I hope you two are together forever."

His leaving is the best thing that will happen to her all day, and she waves her hands in his direction in a lazy shooing motion.

"Can't keep the king from his subjects, can I?" Somehow, she manages to make 'king' sound as close enough to 'slug' as she can. "I'm sure everyone's so worried about you. You're such an important part in their lives, you know."

After her fun filled encounter with Crowley that has her fuming (like always), Meg makes good use of her ability to teleport by hauling her ass off that staircase and to the furthest location she can see from her spot.

Which just so happens to be the stables.

Automatically, she looks disgusted and prepares herself to just zap over to somewhere less hay covered and smelly when a lone figure catches her attention.

"Having fun, cowboy?" She smirks at Angel as she makes her way over to him, side eyeing the horses that seem to be a little put out with their current situation. "How'd you get stuck on this heap?"

Angel can only give her a withering look as she approaches, standing with his back against one of the stall posts with his arms folded. Trust him, the stink is especially bad when your sense of smell is as heightened as he is.

"I was out on the grounds when this happened," he explains, gesturing to the pieces of Wonderland scattered in front of them, floating.

"Seeing as these things happen overnight, and that's about the only time a guy like me gets out. Needless to say, not my ideal place to camp out." He snorts. "What brings you over this way?"

"At least it's not a staircase. The novelty wears off after the first five minutes." Look on the bright side, Angel.

"I was just hop skippin' my way anywhere that wasn't around Crowley." There's an automatic sneer at his name. No, she'll never get over it. Especially after all that lovely torture he put her through. "What, haven't you tried to take a leap of faith somewhere else yet?"

How unfortunate that the stables seem to be far enough away from everything else that even if she physically jumped it would be risking it.

"I'm fast and I'm strong, and I can survive a pretty long drop -- but not a drop into nothingness."

It hasn't felt worth the risk -- not with as far away as the next locale of any actual interest seems to be. He could hop around on a few of the nearby patches of land, but there's not much point to it.

"Looks like I'm staying put for awhile."

Meg doesn't say a word about her own method of traveling, since he would probably just point out she could go somewhere else. Not that it would keep her from staying, not when she's found someone to keep her entertained.

"Just you and your horse pals?" She nods over at the horses, one of which lets out an almost offended sound that has her smirking. "Sounds like you're peas in a little floating pod. Gonna make one of them your dinner when you get a little thirsty?"

If he ever realizes, Meg, he swears to God, you will never hear the end of it.

Angel closes his eyes halfway at that irritated nicker, sighing and looking a little bit deflated, almost like a cat that's just had water dumped over it. He's not any happier about the situation than the horse is, apparently.

"Not if I can help it," he corrects her, grimacing. "I don't drink from people, and live animals aren't that far off."

It wasn't just about the taste of the blood. It was about how it felt to kill. Livestock might not seem like a big deal, but the sound of the animal's heart thundering in his ears, the way it slowed down as it neared death--

It would just make him want bigger prey.

"It's better for everyone if the blood comes from something that's already dead. Hence the local butcher back home making a fortune off me."

"Such high standards." She deadpans while she brings out her handy little phone device, deciding that she can ask for some gifts while possibly giving Angel a hard time in the process.

A win-win for her.

So, without consulting him on the matter, she makes her public network post before turning to him with a too innocent look on her face.

"Maybe we'll get you some of that blood soon enough."

"It's not about high standards."

He sounds a touch defensive, really -- but it's a touchy subject. Most other vampires revile him for it, and most humans think that a blood drinker is a blood drinker no matter what their prey of choice is.

"I don't kill anymore. Not if I can help it."

Exceptions made for demons and other vampires, of course. He frowns, folding his arms as she makes that broadcast, irate-- but he can't deny that the kindness of other residents is the only way he's going to get what he needs here.

"I don't suppose I could convince you to teleport somewhere and get it."

"All outta juice which means you're all outta luck." An absolute lie that she feeds him as she gives him an all too bright smile. Even if he calls her out, she doesn't care. There's something tempting about seeing how long he can last, what will happen when he gets too desperate.

"Didn't know you had to kill someone to have a little snack." Meg is completely at ease as she plops herself on the ground near him, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, her hands resting behind her to support her weight. "Since your vampires seem to be different from my vampires."

In just some little ways.

"Out of juice."

He raises both eyebrows as he echoes her, skeptical.

"How convenient."

He may not know a whole lot about her breed of demon, but it seems unlikely that she could run out just like that -- if it were anyone else, he might have said they simply knew their limits, but Meg didn't seem the type.

"People can't survive all that much bloodloss," he goes on to explain with a sour look, shifting uncomfortably. "And once you start to drink, it's almost impossible to make yourself stop until the heart slows."

"Isn't it?"

It's obvious he sees right through her, but she's not going for subtle here. Or anywhere, for that matter. There's a time and a place and this is neither.

"You go all bloodlust and it's hard to control - I get it." Not that she understands why he would want to control it. Instant gratification is always better in her mind. "Maybe we'll get someone to bring you a treat. Maybe some cookies, too."

"I don't think you do get it."

Because it was so much more than just not being able to sate himself. How could anyone else 'get it'? Though of anyone in the mansion, aside from Cordelia, Meg was most intimately acquainted with exactly what could happen if he lost the battle.

"The guy you met wearing my skin back at Halloween will look like a pussycat compared to what'll happen if I lose myself."

Falling off the wagon would mean despair, hitting his lowest point -- it wasn't enough to make him become Angelus, because that stubborn soul would still be there, but he remembered a time when he had hit that low before, and become so much darker than he was willing to look back and admit. It hadn't been a great time.

"Promise?"

Angel did nothing to deter her, especially with that kind of info. Granted, Meg's not stupid and won't be egging him on to take a bite, see how it feels - not in any kind of obvious manner, anyway.

Subtle needling, though, is definitely on the plate right now.

"Scare tactics doesn't work on me, fangs. Anything you can dole out will look like puppy play compared to what I've seen."

And it's said just matter of factly, because hilariously she is not interested in a pissing contest with him. Or anyone but Crowley for that matter - well, maybe Dean.

"I'm sure some Good Samaritan will feel all sorts of sad about your hunger issue and bring us some tasty blood soon enough."

"Trust me."

His voice goes cold, curt. Making light of a potential Angelus appearance never went over well with him, no matter who he was talking to.

"I know there's not much chance of scaring you, but even you would have to admit that he's not the kind of guy you invite over for dinner, even in Hell." Despite the fact that was where he belonged.

"So you're just going to sit here until then?" He's still not buying that she can't just whisk herself away elsewhere.

Despite how fascinating she might find his mirror (and him, to a point) she has to agree. For the general population, having Angelus make some rounds would put everyone in a tizzy comparable to Tom's killing spree.

"Trying to get rid of me so quickly? And here I thought we were on the way to being bffs." How rude, Angel. Not that she looks offended by any means, instead she seems as relaxed as ever. "The horses better company for you? If you need some alone time to eat, don't worry about grossing me out."

And she makes a gesture at the horses, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. The grumpier he gets about it, the funnier she finds the whole situation.

"I'm not eating the horses."

The reply is sharp, offended. Yes, he drinks pigs' blood, but it's different. He doesn't drink from the animal itself, he doesn't listen to the slowing of their heart or revel in the deathrattle the way he had with humans.

"Believe me, I'm not worried about offending you." That would imply that she could be offended in the first place, wouldn't it? "Didn't even think you were capable, anyway."

"Sure I am." She looks amused, thinking back to the times she's felt offended - or at least affronted. There's a certain demon running around who has the uncanny ability to get under her skin regardless, and she's offended by his very presence. "Doesn't happen often."

And she decides right now is a good time to lean against a bit of fence near the stable itself, looking like she's settling down for the long haul.

"I've been thinking about that suggestion of yours. The apologizing thing." Her nose wrinkles a bit at that, because saying sorry just doesn't seem to be in her DNA anymore. "Maybe I'll drink about twenty bottles of whiskey and go for it."

Whatever saves her skin, that's what is most important. She'll even swallow her pride with the help of alcohol - lots of it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(no subject)

CROWLEY

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

ANGEL

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