Anthony J. Crowley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hellbentley) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
wildestlands2021-11-22 08:49 pm
hellbentley) wrote in wildestlands2021-11-22 08:49 pm
Entry tags:
Is smoked meat supposed to be spicy?
[cw: coughing up a little blood.]
[Crowley is not a big eater. He'll drink like a fish, but food, well, for the most part it's just not one of his preferred guilty human pleasures. Occasionally he'll indulge in an expresso (black as his soul, if he had one), or something dark and rich and bitter like a dark chocolate tart, but only ever rarely.]
[Aziraphale is the one that thoroughly enjoys eating and Crowley usually prefers to just watch him enjoy himself.]
[Sleep, on the other hand? Sleep is amazing. He's slept a whole century before just for the simple pleasure of it.]
[So right now he's hanging out near the woods - it stings to be so close to the Heartstone - his mirror expanded. He's looking at a bit of smoked jerky he's been handed in a little paper wrap, grimacing slightly at how unappetizing it looks.]
Far be it for me to insist on five star dining in the great big useless bloody wilderness, but do we at least have something else to go along with this? I'm...a bit of a picky eater.
[It's believable. He's a very slim, leggy man, someone that looks like he may indeed be very picky about his food.]
Like...fruit? Don't eat much fruit, but I've heard good things. I've known a few people who just couldn't say no to fruit.
[His little joke. He tosses a small bit of the jerky in his mouth, just a little bite. It's not on his fingers long enough to sting. He barely chews it or this might have gone down better, might have let him spit it out with just a burned tongue before absolute disaster. He could've just played it off as being disgusted.]
[Dean had helped Kon brine at least some of the meat with his already-purified holy water. That meat had been smoked into some of the jerky, and even though the water evaporated off, it consecrated the salt left behind. Normal salt never hurt him, but blessed salt on the other hand...]
[Maybe it's not as potent as pure holy water or he'd have burned up from the inside almost instantly, but it's bad.]
So did anyone happen to find any - [He suddenly gags. Then bows over as he chokes.]
[It's not normal choking because he shouldn't have been able to get any words out at all at first.]
[It's not normal choking because most of the time when people choke from a bit of food they don't start coughing up blood. His teeth are instantly stained from it.]
[It's not normal choking because most of the time when people choke they don't start smoking from the mouth.]
[He wheezes like someone going into anaphylaxis, and falls to his knees so sudden and hard that his glasses become slightly loose. He coughs so hard they fall right off.]
[Finally, after a few hard wheezes she manages to cough it up, with a mouthful of blood. His voice is locked into a wheeze and he keeps having to cough and spit little gobs of blood. It's not as bad as the initial bit of it - mostly superficial blood vessels in his throat burst.]
Who made this? What did you put in it? What did you do?
[It's only then that he's able to notice what just happened. That the world is suddenly less dim. He holds a hand to his temple and realizes his eyes are visible - yellow and snakelike. And he starts looking for his glasses in the shadowy grass. His vision is still recovering from the darkness that crept in from the edges as he went without oxygen.]
Ahhh...
[He segues into a lie.]
...How embarrassing. Everyone now knows about my horrific eye condition and deadly food allergy. All connected, I'm afraid. Immune disorder.
[He is so fucked.]
[Crowley is not a big eater. He'll drink like a fish, but food, well, for the most part it's just not one of his preferred guilty human pleasures. Occasionally he'll indulge in an expresso (black as his soul, if he had one), or something dark and rich and bitter like a dark chocolate tart, but only ever rarely.]
[Aziraphale is the one that thoroughly enjoys eating and Crowley usually prefers to just watch him enjoy himself.]
[Sleep, on the other hand? Sleep is amazing. He's slept a whole century before just for the simple pleasure of it.]
[So right now he's hanging out near the woods - it stings to be so close to the Heartstone - his mirror expanded. He's looking at a bit of smoked jerky he's been handed in a little paper wrap, grimacing slightly at how unappetizing it looks.]
Far be it for me to insist on five star dining in the great big useless bloody wilderness, but do we at least have something else to go along with this? I'm...a bit of a picky eater.
[It's believable. He's a very slim, leggy man, someone that looks like he may indeed be very picky about his food.]
Like...fruit? Don't eat much fruit, but I've heard good things. I've known a few people who just couldn't say no to fruit.
[His little joke. He tosses a small bit of the jerky in his mouth, just a little bite. It's not on his fingers long enough to sting. He barely chews it or this might have gone down better, might have let him spit it out with just a burned tongue before absolute disaster. He could've just played it off as being disgusted.]
[Dean had helped Kon brine at least some of the meat with his already-purified holy water. That meat had been smoked into some of the jerky, and even though the water evaporated off, it consecrated the salt left behind. Normal salt never hurt him, but blessed salt on the other hand...]
[Maybe it's not as potent as pure holy water or he'd have burned up from the inside almost instantly, but it's bad.]
So did anyone happen to find any - [He suddenly gags. Then bows over as he chokes.]
[It's not normal choking because he shouldn't have been able to get any words out at all at first.]
[It's not normal choking because most of the time when people choke from a bit of food they don't start coughing up blood. His teeth are instantly stained from it.]
[It's not normal choking because most of the time when people choke they don't start smoking from the mouth.]
[He wheezes like someone going into anaphylaxis, and falls to his knees so sudden and hard that his glasses become slightly loose. He coughs so hard they fall right off.]
[Finally, after a few hard wheezes she manages to cough it up, with a mouthful of blood. His voice is locked into a wheeze and he keeps having to cough and spit little gobs of blood. It's not as bad as the initial bit of it - mostly superficial blood vessels in his throat burst.]
Who made this? What did you put in it? What did you do?
[It's only then that he's able to notice what just happened. That the world is suddenly less dim. He holds a hand to his temple and realizes his eyes are visible - yellow and snakelike. And he starts looking for his glasses in the shadowy grass. His vision is still recovering from the darkness that crept in from the edges as he went without oxygen.]
Ahhh...
[He segues into a lie.]
...How embarrassing. Everyone now knows about my horrific eye condition and deadly food allergy. All connected, I'm afraid. Immune disorder.
[He is so fucked.]
no subject
[ Twist the words around all you want, but semantics don’t change the nature of a thing. Tim is open to discussing the concept of the world being a better place without certain people in it, but privately and for things worse than one attempted murder.
Tim sighs, because he understands that no one wants to hear logic after they’ve just had someone actively try to kill them. He’s used to it, and he can’t say there isn’t sometimes the tiniest part of him that doesn’t delight at hitting someone in the face when they’ve deliberately made the situation difficult and violent. Kind of like how this little get-together went, given the mess that Crowley is. ]
You’re still bleeding.
[ The tone is sympathetic, not obnoxiously obvious, and Tim starts checking to see if he’s got anything actually clean enough to use as a bandage. He settles for tearing off a thin strip of his tunic and offers it to Crowley. ]
Here. Don’t try to put it on anything. It’s black - that doesn’t mean it’s clean. I usually keep a first aid kit handy, but it didn’t make the trip with me. I wish there was something else I could do…
[ Who knows if human methods would even work. There’s at least seven different kinds of non-humans and metahumans, by Tim’s count, which is going to make medical care difficult. One more reason why they can’t go around attacking each other.
As he considers and speaks, Tim starts to faintly glow. He trails off when he reaches about a faint nightlight brightness and streaks his hand from one side to another, then holds it up. ]
Which one of you is this?
[ The glow will get brighter, and up to two people around him will glow faintly and experience a slight heal. If they’re not hurt, they’ll feel refreshed.
Tim, on the other hand, will feel sus of all of them because he doesn’t glow under normal or normal abnormal conditions. ]
no subject
[But a second later he looks grateful for the piece of cloth. He doesn't intend to use it as a bandage presses it against the neck wound to try to help it stop bleeding. This whole bleeding all over is a process he rarely goes through.]
S'not me.
[The glow helps him feel a little better though. Less exhausted. His throat is a little less sore, the neck wound mostly stops bleeding.]
I think it can heal, though.
[He breathes out a sigh at the slight relief.]
Seems to me that's all you. You're the one glowing.
no subject
[ A very dubious look at the whole 'murder vs self-defense' thing. Yeah, sorry Tim, he's actually going to side with the flaming hellspawn with this. If a guy comes for you, trying to kill them in response is part of the risk of doing murder attempts.
He does look surprised as the guy starts to glow, and, well, it appears he didn't get picked for the surprise heal. Nice magic, guy. ]
Handy.
[ Feeling his business here is mostly resolved, Guts turns to make his leave. ]
Moss makes a good dressing. Keeps the wound clean. You can scrape some off by the river.
[ And with that handy tip for Aziraphale, he'll depart to leave them to another side of camp. ]
no subject
Young man, I would hardly set you glowing without permission after you've done us a good turn.
[ Still, any extra healing, however accidental, is a good thing to have right about now. And that is apparently what's at work.
When one starts doing something they shouldn't be able to normally, it probably seems fair to assume someone has done it to them, honestly.
Oop, what, and there goes the large one. Like a moss-knowledgeable phantom.
The sheer amount of names Aziraphale is realizing they don't have in this situation is astounding. Is this how youth culture works these days? That can't be convenient at all. ]
-- thank you!
[ It sounds more like a question than a firm statement. They're all in one camp. He can have a better go at it later. ]
no subject
I… think I should go.
[ Metahumans? Not a problem. Metahumans losing their powers? It happens. Demons? Werewolves? Vampires? Fine.
Tim himself turning into a glow worm? That heals? Tim hurries to back up, and he doesn’t stop taking slow steps backwards as he makes his excuses. ]
I’m glad you’re okay, and that he’s cooled down.
[ He points from Crowley to retreating Guts, and to Aziraphale. ]
And you can get the moss, like he said. I’m going to sort something out.
[ Like why he’s glowing. And if it’s healing or something else, before he gets too close to anyone else. He isn’t safe to be around until he knows what it is. ]
If anything happens, find Superboy. Tell him Tim sent you.
[ At this point, he’s backed up a good twenty feet without stumbling, so he takes off at a job, away from them and out of camp - in a different direction than Dean. ]