Journal the First

[theabjectauthor]

[the lobby door creaks open a few inches, just enough for a man in a fedora to poke his head in carefully. his eyes widen, and he ducks back out and shuts the door. from without, there's a muffled yet still pretty pronounced shout:]

O, LORD.

[with that, the door opens again, all the way, this time, and he shuffles in, shutting it quickly behind him and clutching a worn leather messenger bag to his chest as though his very life depended on it. his pinstripe suit is slightly rumpled and spotted here and there with ash, and there's a thick scarf wound around his neck. he moves carefully away from the door, eyes wide as he takes in his surroundings]

... I certainly think I'd remember this being on the map.

[and with that, he sits down on one of the lobby couches and starts going through his bag - getting more and more distraught the longer he rummages. clearly, whatever he's looking for isn't there...]

Comments

[onlyanapple]

[Crowley's just lounging around in the lobby, when...oh. Oh he remembers this guy! The demon grins, sauntering over to lean on the back of the couch, inches from Lemony's head]

Neurotic Guy! You came back.

[theabjectauthor]

[rather predictably, he jumps about a mile off the couch cushions and drops the bag, odds and ends - a phrase which here means a tin of lemon drops, several fancy pens, a loose accordion key, a stray scrap of wood with a tag tied to it, and the bottle cap from a bottle of parsley soda - spilling out onto the floor]

AAAH! [pant. pant.] Sir, I beg your pardon, but it's quite rude to sneak up on people. Didn't your parental figure of choice and or circumstance ever tell you that?

[onlyanapple]

[Crowley chuckles. That was fun. He missed doing that, and it seems there's no recognition here on Lemony's part. Even better]

I'm sure He might have mentioned it once or twice, but I was never one to listen to Him.

[He'll continue to lounge against the couch, the smirk still on his face. Then, very deliberately, he'll give a slow wave. This part will be even MORE fun]

Hello, Lemony

[theabjectauthor]

[and you thought his eyes couldn't get any wider, sir. YOU WERE MISTAKEN. he sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiides slowly to the far end of the couch, reaching down to try and retrieve his briefcase at the same time. oh no. oh, no. this is - he's with Them, never mind that They were right on his heels right before he arrived, there was someone else with Them, THIS Someone Else, and now he's HERE and he himself, Lemony Snicket, is somewhat doomed if he can't figure out a way to escape.

thankfully, there are numerous doors and staircases in sight, and he got an A- in Stalling that one year]

... Are you who I think you are?

[onlyanapple]

[Crowley rolls his shoulder a little. Gosh it's been ages since he's been able to mess with someone like this. Most people are used to him by now]

That depends. Who do you think I am?

Chances are, you'll be wrong.

[theabjectauthor]

[okay, he's not a Volunteer, then. which is even CREEPIER, even if it's confirmation that the guy isn't going to try and kill him right away. maybe later? but certainly not right now. he manages to get hold of the bag and slowly drops down to the floor on one knee to gather everything up. stalling, however, there needs to be more stalling.]

Mmm ... I'd have a better idea of whether you were or not, if you took off your glasses.

[onlyanapple]

I don't do that, sorry. Personal thing.

[He'll watch with mild amusement]

Also if you want to run, I suggest heading out those big doors there. Or maybe to the left or right. Heading up the stairs will just get yourself lost and cornered and you don't want to give yourself heart failure.

Action

[fuckinghateadrenaline]

[Stuart is sat on another couch in the lobby... Watching this guy.

All. The. Watching.

What the hell?]

You're new.

[theabjectauthor]

[if it were possible, Lemony Snicket would look like a deer in headlights. but he is not a deer, he is a human being, and as such he looks like a human being who was trying to flee, but was just informed that his antagonist is aware that he was about to flee, and therefore is faced with the very unfair choice of running predictably, or standing his ground and taking whatever horrible fate might await him.

well.

the man isn't armed, other than with the usual appendages. he's just creepy. he takes a slow, shaky breath to steady himself - he can always flee in the next moment or so if it actually becomes eminently dangerous]

How do you know who I am?

[theabjectauthor]

[still rummaging, Lemony jumps a little at the sound of another voice and looks up]

New? Um. Well ... yes, I suppose I am. Excuse me, sir, but what, exactly, am I new to?

[fuckinghateadrenaline]

[Blank look from over his book.]

We call it Castle Wonderfuck, but it's actually called Paradisa.

...If you've lost something, it's probably because the castle took it. It can be a right bloody bastard like that.

[onlyanapple]

[Crowley's brows arch from behind the sunglasses, before he casually jumps over the back of the couch to lounge on the piece of furniture proper]

Well, that's quite a long and extravagantly unbelievable story. It depends on if you want to hear it or not, really.

[theabjectauthor]

[there's another small yelp - though not nearly as impressive as the first - as he scrambles away so that he doesn't get clipped somehow in the vaulting of the couch. after he's a comfortable distance from Crowley's feet, however, he'll start quietly gathering his scattered belongings, while still paying him a courteous amount of attention]

Extravagantly unbelievable, you say. Would this extravagance be along the scales of an opera, or more akin to a penny-dreadful? There is a mark-ed difference, you see.

[theabjectauthor]

[his eyes widen, and whatever he'd moved to peer further into the bag settles back with a clatter]

SIR. While I appreciate your eagerness to assist, your language is simply reprehensible. Not only that, but I find it difficult to conceive the concept that a castle could have parentage, legitimate or otherwise.

[onlyanapple]

[The demon considers, then makes a waggling motion with his hand]

A little of both, really.

[fuckinghateadrenaline]

[Stuart is going to like this guy.]

You took me literally, didn't you?

[nihilo]

[ Have an Alice standing over him, playing with a golden hairpin against her lips. ]

I took it.

[persequor]

What are you looking for?

[ Nymeria pads forward to sniff the bag. ]

[theabjectauthor]

You -- [he looks up and frowns, dismayed] Why would you do such a thing?

[his second thought: that is a lovely hairpin. but he'll keep that to himself for now]

[theabjectauthor]

... My map of the Mortmain Mountains. [rummage. rummage. something is sniffing his bag ... probably a poodle or a laborador or -- or --

yeah, he looks, and pulls his feet up onto the couch]

O!

[theabjectauthor]

In the latter instance, yes. The former is even more disturbing to consider and therefore not worth mentioning.

[castles with ... intimate leanings ... SCANDALOUS]

[theabjectauthor]

[to his credit, he only winces a tiny bit] Somehow, I had an inkling that was precisely what you'd say. ... [he sighs] Well, as I've not much idea where I am, and They aren't right behind me, I suppose I have some time. But I'll warn you in advance, if a Man With A Beard But No Hair and a Woman With Hair But No Beard come through those doors, I will have to cut our conversation short.

[fuckinghateadrenaline]

[...Oh my god.]

Well, the castle is intelligent. Isn't the main purpose of most intelligent beings to procreate?

Only this one does it with your mind.

[nihilo]

[ Alice smirks, gleeful, then tries to contain herself and seem more indignant than amused. ]

Because I wanted to.

[theabjectauthor]

[this. just.... THIS]