Video | UN: Ouroborosed -- Subject: AMA

[inlovewithmycar]

[Crowley flips on the camera before sitting back in an office chair in his usual slouch. Behind him is the backdrop of one of the labyrinthine office buildings, the shades of beige and grey a sharp contrast to his black clothes and red hair. There is a peculiar tension about him, something about the way he's square his shoulders, and the considerable supply of unopened bottles next to him suggests there is some need for the liquid courage.]

Right then. The mall here, yeah? Only marginally worse than the normal kind. And hey, at least we'll never have to deal with the Boxing Day rush, eh?

...That'd be analogous to Black Friday for all you Americans. I don't know if there's a Canadian equivalent. Never stuck around long enough to find out. Saw a moose once and decided that place could just be someone else's problem.

[He shuffles uncomfortably.]

Okay. Yeah. Enough small talk. Time to rip the bandaid off.

[Deep breaths, Crowley.]

So the thing I was worried about happening? ...Happened. For the exact reason and in the exact way I thought it would happen. I'm sure I'll look back and laugh about it one day, but right now I'd like to get ahead of it happening again. No more fun little surprise exorcisms. At least none that I won't see coming.

So, here we go. Let's get this over with.

I'm a literal demon from literal Hell - yes that one - and their former operative of Earth, presently retired.

Ask me anything.

[He's already popping the top off the tequila. He's going to need it.]

Comments

[inlovewithmycar]

Right, one bottle. Sorry, forget that people have, uh, different limits. You can't just -- [He makes a waving gesture.] -- you know.

Anyway. Nothing like a dry red to offset the sweetness of pound cake.

[matermali]

It isn't that. I can handle my wine quite well. I only feel that I owe you quite enough in gratitude as it is, Mr. Crowley.

Perhaps some extra pound cake for your troubles, then.

[inlovewithmycar]

What? Why? I mean, not that I don't appreciate not being on the business end of your blood scorpion thingies, but I don't think I've been getting up to anything that warrants something like gratitude? A demon could get into a lot of trouble for doing good deeds.

[matermali]

[ He asked for it. ]

When our pasts took to haunting us, you first attempted to offer me somewhere to hide, knowing it would only increase the risk for yourself. You bore me no ill will for attempted homicide, and then you were very brave and selfless when meaning to distract the spectre for my sake. To that, you kept me from near going mad when all was through.

So then I suppose it is good that you are a reformed demon, since I cannot imagine what else you would call such acts but good deeds.

[inlovewithmycar]

[He did not ask for this!!!]

That's not -- I'm not -- You --!!

[There is a lot of aborted attempts at sentences and incoherent sputtering that makes Crowley sound less like a demonic serpent and much more like an old car engine trying to start.

Crowley eventually finds some straws to grasp at.]

Reformed! I'm not reformed, this is ridiculous, I don't have to take this kind of slander!

[matermali]

Oh no?

[ Said in that very 'what are you gonna do about it?' tone of voice. ]

Worry not, I will keep the details of your gentler whimsies from the eyes and ears of the greater public.

[inlovewithmycar]

No!

[Sorry, he has, in fact, always been Like This. Dramatics included.]

Gentler whimsies! I'm not some fluffy mammal from a children's book! I am a demon! A fallen angel! I have danced in the hearts of stars! Tempted saints! Fomented all across Wessex!

[Killing him Vanessa! You're killing him! K.O.! Flawless victory!]

[matermali]

[ If at first you don't succeed. ]

How must it feel to dance in the heart of a star?

[inlovewithmycar]

Oh it's great fun; like sucking down a helium balloon on a hot summer's day and going to town. There's not a lot that compares to the music humans make, but the beat of nuclear fusion is pretty close.

[matermali]

[ She understand some of that, but this is getting into science territory she can tell. When she repeats him, she obviously is a bit clueless on why those words are being used together. ]

The beat of 'nuclear fusion'... Something like the star's heartbeat?

[inlovewithmycar]

A bit! ...Kinda. In very broad strokes, I suppose.

It's a little more involved. In simplest terms, we start with two lighter atoms - in this case, deuterium and tritium - then smash their nuclei together to form a single heavier nucleus that's still lighter than the other two combined so energy and an excess neutron escape and you get helium.

That energy is light and heat. But! Earth is far enough away from the sun so things tend to top off at a balmy one-hundred-thirty degrees Fahrenheit, as opposed to the ten thousand on the sun's surface and and the twenty seven million at its core. It's easier to think of it as a sort of ongoing contained explosion that will last for billions of years.

[matermali]

[ Well, she mostly understood enough of that to follow, and it's only for her Latin that she's managing that well. It paints enough of a picture for a poetic mind like hers. He almost speaks of it like a scientist, which is remarkable under the circumstances. It still doesn't take the magic out of such an image.

She is still taking some mental notes on further explanation for a few of these terms, to be sure. ]

Like an endless storm of fire that rages unhindered. How beautiful.

And you are able to touch them?

[inlovewithmycar]

Oh yeah. In the old days, I used to make them. Well, not make them specifically, and not the sun - that's a bespoke, hand-made bit of craftsmanship that one is.

But you know. Nebulae. Star factories.

...And definitely not in my corporation; I may be pretty fire-proof, but that'd go up like a straw before I even got as far as Mercury. Still, nipping out the old vessel for a quick romp amidst the cosmos's a treat.

[matermali]

[ So much information has come to her at once, it's a miracle she's keeping up. And simply believing him. But in most cases, it's simpler to believe him than to not. And even then, she has a lot to process.

Now it sounds as though he's suggesting he can separate from his body and then return? ]

The old vessel? You don't mean—

[inlovewithmycar]

No, I didn't possess anyone if that's what you're worried about. I just tuck my body away somewhere safe from prying demons and paramedics, and then, well, take it off. A little taboo these days, but better than having to wait a decade for all the paperwork to go through to get a new vessel because I'd gone and discorporated for a lark.