#therebelyouknow

[thatslayer]

Now there are 2 Faiths shipping with Crowley blogs I LOVE IT AND SHIP IT HARD! :DDDD

        Wait, what? What? What what? Do you mean this blog and @the-rebel-you-know​? Ahhh, eeeeeh! No, Faith and Crowley are not a thing and that’s not going to change. She’s just dumb enough to have made a deal and now she works for him. There’s no there there. But, yay that you have a big ship you like?

[thatslayer]

Why So Serious? || Crowley & Faith

@the-rebel-you-know

           It's been a long, long-ass four hours and change from Lebanon to Kansas City and when Crowley suggested a trip to Legends and a fifth watch of the new Revengers flick, she almost pretended to be sick. Some kind of demon virus that conveniently won't let her watch a movie she's already seen. Anything to keep from meeting him today.

Not his fault, for a change. Nobody’s, really. Not even this situation, or the fact that she's been worked into a wide-awake coma by the impending apocalypse and Faith's had that four-hour drive to mull over the actual reason for their distance the last couple of weeks. It's not like her, and they both know it.

                  She's a couple of minutes early today. Pulling the Impala into the driveway, being ridiculously careful to not scrape the shit out of it while finding a spot between Crowley's antique Lincoln limousine on one side, and Asphalt Furs ridiculous early-eighties band van on the other. Why they feel the need to live in his driveway is beyond her. If she were working for what Crowley pays those werewolves, she'd demand use of the poolhouse.

       Faith doesn't kill the engine, doesn't feel like making the journey inside today. She just grips the wheel with both hands, closes her eyes and takes a calming breath, "You can do this, Winchester."

[thatslayer]

Any Questions? || Crowley & Faith

@the-rebel-you-know

                  "You're not going." there's rarely much response from Faith, at least more than a grunt. When there is, though, it's not vague. No room to misunderstand, no leverage to spin it.

She closes the top dresser drawer and drags the next one down open. Tank tops. So many tank tops. Faith carefully chooses a couple of white tanks, as if they look any different than the white tanks shes leaving in the drawer, and heads back to the bed to shove them into an already over-stuffed gym bag, "Last time, you were all, 'oh, snap! I got this Headless Horseman thing on lock!', then you skipped the Hollow to go bang some dude in a pumpkin jacket. You can stag Halloween, yo. Go home, pass out candy."

[thatslayer]

It scared me, cause how often is Paul Simon trending on twitter? I thought he was MAD dead, yo.

the-rebel-you-know, Faith Lehane-ing about Paul Simon trending after his performance on SNL.

[thatslayer]

                    I've got few days of double shifts, starting today, so I'll be scarce until Monday, darlings! While I'm here, though, big birthday shout-out to the-rebel-you-know!

[thatslayer]

For mutuals of the-rebel-you-know

          This isn't a happy post, but let me predicate this by saying she's basically FINE, but I wanted to update her followers who also follow me. Possible triggering content beneath the cut.

                   @the-rebel-you-know / Crowley Mun was in a car accident Thursday night. Everyone's more or less okay (there's one broken leg, I think, but it was someone else in the car). She's fine, whiplash and either a concussion or contusions the last I heard (I got a text that said 'confusions', which I assume is auto-corrected). 

   She might be MIA for a bit, but I doubt it will be for long. I'll let her fill you in on the details when she gets back. If you have any messages for her, I can pass them along! Just send them via messages.

Specifically sent to @wolfbaneautumn @anastasiastark and @hellsmother

[allofusandco]

Hypercaffeinated

with the-rebel-you-know

Violet meets Crowley.

Vi:

It makes no sense that a town so small that the high school closed down a year ago (before the ‘people keep killing us’ exodus even started) still has a Starbucks but hey, maybe God doesn’t take with both hands. And there is the pumpkin spice latte smell which tells Vi she could be literally anywh –––––

… oh, shiny.

“Sir? You dropped a coin, and I wouldn’t - I mean, I know nothing about coins, of course, but it looks rare.” Actually, super rare. Mesopotamia rare but she’s not one to judge. And her knowledge of coins is still faintly embarrassing.

Vi has lost a lot of arguments in the last decade, sure. But ‘friendly neighborhood slayer’ still feels like a good aim.

––––

Crowley:

“Good, I did my job.” Crowley turned, pocketed his phone, and took the coin from Vi with his free hand – the other being occupied with a raspberry mocha. He held it up so she could have a nice, long look at it. “It’s a denarius. I made it myself. Are you a local,miss…?”

–––––

Vi:

Oh, he was on the phone. Awkward moment. Still nice to know the cell towers were still working. A Denarius? Vi squinted. She was pretty sure that was a computer game reference, and it had been years since she’d had time.

Oh. Oh!

“Is that a raspberry mocha? That’s my favorite too!” She was safe enough, broad daylight, he wasn’t a vampire. Maybe the locals were still nice, despite the death rate being so alarming.

“No, here to meet up with… family,” she said. It was definitely a raspberry mocha day. Fuck pumpkin spice. “Call me Vi. Because… that’s my name.”

––––

Crowley:

“Well. Lovely to meet you, Vi. Shame you don’t live around here. I’m helming a small production out of Oxnard, thought I’d scout locations on my way.” He cast a quick look about himself, at the town. Squinting at the sunshine. “Not much, is it? But I hear the woods are lovely, dark and deep. You can call me Roderick…. Never mind why.”

–––––

Vi:

Vi nodded. “Sounds exciting. And Roderick – I like it, it has gravitas.” So, not a local. Nice guy like this didn’t deserve to die. “But you know, there are better towns. Just FYI. Not even that far. Kansas is…”

One of the few states she didn’t know a thing about.

“Full of surprises. Have you seen Esbon?” She’d passed it – but she’d blinked. “Or Burr Oak?” There had been a sign. Something. Maybe. She was probably saying it wrong.

––––

Crowley:

A sort of almost-smile came over Crowley. He felt like someone had just thrown their coat over a puddle for him. It was a rare feeling. “It’s not so much a matter of choice, as one of money. I’m shooting b-roll for a documentary, and there’s a bit on The Sacking of Lawrence. So I’m stuck,… unless you know of a town with a more authentic sack?”

–––––

Vi:

Lawrence was sacked? Vi knew she should have done some reading on the area before she showed up in her hero boots. Sacked! … what exactly was a sacking, again? High school history had been somewhat disrupted by fate showing up, and since then, she hadn’t bothered much with history prior to the Vietnam war. Unless there were battle tactics or vampires involved.

“Ah,” she said, “well, some towns that are more intact,” she said, “more historical looking. Guess I don’t know much what an authentic sack looks like.”

––––

Crowley:

For a moment Crowley thought about responding, but he decided to just smile and do the classy thing by leaving it alone. It was the holiday season, after all. But later on that day, he was going to have to yell the words ‘lord knows I do’ into a paper bag.

–––––

Vi:

Authentic sack. Vi had genuinely just said that. She didn’t know what an authentic sack looked like. It was definitely time for an early night and catching up on some sleep debt (and then maybe, possibly finding out something about the history of Lebanon, before it bit her in the ass, either literally or figuratively).

“Anyhoo,” she said. “Good luck. I’m sure you don’t need it. Probably very god at your job and everything, it’s really just a polite thing to say, you know. And be careful. I should…”           run and hide and stick to talking to people right when they were being murdered and appreciated the fact she was a little on the awkward side?

––––

Crowley:

“Careful? I’ve faced towns a lot tougher than Lebanon, don’t you worry about me. Vi, was it? Maybe we’ll see each other again sometime, when they finally get in those snowman cookies. Until then….”

~complete~

[thatslayer]

Your Werewolf’s a Moron || Crowley & Faith

                   It's over four hours on I-70, literally eastbound and down. Through Topeka, through Sam's home town of Lawrence and straight on to Kansas City to see the Underwood Devil about a werewolf problem.

       Outside Her Syndrome or Asphalt Furs, or whatever the garage-rock band made up of idiot werewolves called themselves these days, have spent weeks pummeling border towns between Missouri and Kansas. Making noise, getting on TV and basically making it hard for Faith to help Crowley fly under the radar. His minions don't respect him and that's got to change because now it's Faith's ass on the line, too.

                           Faith takes Sam's car down a long drive in a deserted, 'glitch in the matrix' sort of suburb. Gets out of her car, taking a rolled up paper sack with her and lets herself in the front door of Crowley's weirdly well-kept mansion to get to the bottom of whatever the fuck is going on.

              Being a minion of sorts, herself, she probably ought to keep her mouth shut but when she finds Crowley spouting ridiculous orders at Jess and those valley girls who work for him, she's not quiet. Muscles into the conversation, "We got problems. Wolves are kickin' up a ruckus up and down the border, gettin' Sammy all riled up and wanting to come out here to play Boy Slayer. All I could do to keep his ass in Lebanon. I wanna know what you're gonna do about it."