video/ mid-afternoon

[scotch_egg]

[This was bullocks. This was absolute bullocks. He felt like he'd stepped into a rerun of the bloody Xfactor or whatever it was. Reincarnation, memories from another life, nonsense. Absolute rubbish. Yet he couldn't stop dreaming about it. Every night it had happened. The girl in the water, pulling her out, some agony tight in his chest-- and-- incredible loneliness. Incredible grief. More than once he'd woken up in tears and so was running on as little sleep as possible.

So when he appears on the feed, he's looking haggard and cross. He's never been much for technology. He's also wanted to avoid touching this... supernatural disaster-- but he's exhausted all other possibilities short of going to therapy and if it is connected to this-- organization, maybe someone can give him a clue]

My name is Crowley. I'm looking for a missing girl, about eleven to fourteen. Shoulder length dirty-blonde or brunette hair, wearing a locket. Heart shaped. If anyone's seen her, or knows anything about her, let me know.

Or if anyone can tell me about the Bureau. The truth about the Bureau. Not the interdimensional whatever it is. How prevalent are they? How prevalent are 'we'? Is anyone doing any sort of investigating at all?

[and while he knew it wasn't a good idea to question so openly on their own network, he needed information. And it would be interesting to see what they did with this threat, if anything.]

Comments

[temptationaccomplished]

Well, my friend's partner has a 'poetry' reading Saturday at 6 that I promised to attend ages ago. [There's definitely regret in there.]

...I don't suppose you're free around 6 on Saturday?

[scotch_egg]

[Oh God. Poetry. He hated poetry. So much. Especially the poetry of other people who thought they were clever when really they couldn't rhyme their way out of a paper bag on fire. Or put in little artistic flourishes that made him think of Shatner except that he'd lapsed into a coma every ten minutes]

I'll be there. [kill him now] Do I have to wear anything, or--?

[temptationaccomplished]

Well, you have to wear something. It's not that kind of gathering. But no, actually, I was hoping you could give me an excuse to get out of it.

Unless you'd like to go listen to pretentious drivel, but I've heard his poetry. He isn't very good. I don't know why they're dating.

[scotch_egg]

Of course I meant to wear something. [he flushed. Fell had known what he'd meant]

I try never to ask myself that question. [as he never really wants to know the answer]

Sure, let's do something else then. Dinner? Somewhere?

[temptationaccomplished]

Can never be too sure, you know.

Dinner sounds wonderful. Where would be good for you? I'm located in Manhattan, but if you'd prefer somewhere closer to you...?

[scotch_egg]

[right. He knows when he's being mocked, but doesn't particularly care Fell's opinion of him]

Wherever. So long as I don't have to wear a bloody suit. [and preferably somewhere where the appetizer isn't the same price as a Mercedes]

[temptationaccomplished]

Do you like Indian food? There's a nice place in Queens.

[scotch_egg]

[God. His stomach would hate him. He would have heartburn for hours if he so much looked at it. But he didn't want to look particular. Let Fell be where he was the most comfortable]

That'll work.