Still, Crowley supposes there comes a time for everything to end. For him, it just so happens to be today. And he does what Crowley always does every single day, which is revel in the nice things -- taking great enjoyment in his liquor, read a book. He even attempted to watch television, though that was a failure.
Soon, Crowley decides that putting off the inevitable is a mark of cowardice, and he vanishes from his apartment after sending his hounds with specific tasks elsewhere. Nora and Abaddon are instructed to guard the house -- their mother is sent to Christina, with a message on what is about to happen, but by the time Christina figures out what is going on, it will be too late for her to do anything. Crowley is clever like that.
He appears on an empty stretch of beach farther away from the main city, ignoring the crash of the waves against the rocks. The Colt feels heavy in his pocket, the self-made weapon of God lighter against his chest. And for a moment, Crowley allows himself the luxury to breathe, even though he doesn't have to -- and once he is done with that, he removes his NV from his pocket to send a text.]
The 6th :: Noon. THE LAST THREAD. And whatnot.
Still, Crowley supposes there comes a time for everything to end. For him, it just so happens to be today. And he does what Crowley always does every single day, which is revel in the nice things -- taking great enjoyment in his liquor, read a book. He even attempted to watch television, though that was a failure.
Soon, Crowley decides that putting off the inevitable is a mark of cowardice, and he vanishes from his apartment after sending his hounds with specific tasks elsewhere. Nora and Abaddon are instructed to guard the house -- their mother is sent to Christina, with a message on what is about to happen, but by the time Christina figures out what is going on, it will be too late for her to do anything. Crowley is clever like that.
He appears on an empty stretch of beach farther away from the main city, ignoring the crash of the waves against the rocks. The Colt feels heavy in his pocket, the self-made weapon of God lighter against his chest. And for a moment, Crowley allows himself the luxury to breathe, even though he doesn't have to -- and once he is done with that, he removes his NV from his pocket to send a text.]
Come and get me.