(no subject)

[foundacause]

Who: Meg, Crowley and later Castiel.
What: Snarking, bitching, fighting and a little death.
When: Day 66.
Where: The park.
Warnings: Violence, language and character death.

Meg had taken to spending most of her time in the park. Things back home were a little ... awkward after the whole species swap mess. She knew she should probably face Dean and Cas at some point, but later definitely seemed a better time than sooner. Never would be preferable, but that wouldn't fix the awkwardness.

Her walk was interrupted when she ran across Crowley. Well, if she had to be bloody miserable than he could be too!

"Oh look what the cat barfed on the mat. Everybody's favourite waste of space would-be king. You haven't been eaten by dire wolves or sabre-tooths yet? Shame. Still, means there's still time to sell tickets."

Comments

[sellerofsins]

After being forced to 'feel' for the past few days thanks to Dean and one emotionally night of listening to one Donna Noble discuss her life and times, he was done. With all of this place. Not just done, fed up. He wanted out and boy did he ever want to leave some big showy reminder he'd been here. And considering the taunt that shot by his ear, he was starting to think the best way to mark his time here was t leave a demon shaped splatter.

Preferably full blown blood and gore. No limits. Hopefully this place had that allowance. Could he still squeeze the very life out of Meg? Possible, surely. She was simply a headache in a demons form. Not worth the air she breathed.

Coming to a halt, Crowley turned, raising an eyebrow at the mouthy women in his way. He was not in the mood to give the time of day to an ant. So, instead, he'd rather just crush it now and save them both time. "Do you know some people have very bad timing? It's not their fault specifically, though perhaps overall it was, but some people are just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I always thought that had to be a right pain in the arse. Catching someone you don't want to catch on a bad day?"

With a smirk, he soon vanished from before her eyes. But, sadly, she'd soon feel a tap on her shoulder. And hear a whisper in her ear.

"You'll have to tell me what it feels like. Well, you know, if you can still talk after I gut you like a squealing pig. See, I've been having a terrible week. Shall we make it better?"