IC CONTACT POST

[uberboned]

[A woman's voice comes over the line.]

You've reached the Trickster's voicemail. Unfortunately, Mr. Trickster isn't available to take your call, nor will he likely ever be. Should you still wish to leave a message, please respond after the tone, and maybe we'll remember to get it to him, mmkay?

[Beep]

[[OOC: This is an IC voicemail post for all verses games. Please put the name of the verse/game you want in the subject heading.]]

Comments

[OFFLINE]

[integrity]

Changing the mentality of something that's been drilled into your skull for centuries is more difficult than it looks. Surely you know that.

[Crowley eyes him.]

I've ceased expecting either of them to change.

[OFFLINE]

[uberboned]

Didn't take me long. [...Okay, so it really took him a long time, but he is just aggressively unable to face anything, so really all he did was hide for so long, he could pretend he changed until the pretending was the reality or... Some psychological bullshit.

Whatever.]

So long as they don't crash my wedding, burn my club, or kill anyone I like, I'm willing to let 'em stay on their side of the line. It's like home, only more claustrophobic.

[OFFLINE]

[integrity]

It took me nearly forty-thousand years. Heaven is worse.

[He knows what kind of systematic brainwashing goes on upstairs, he sleeps with Castiel, okay.]

Crashing the wedding and burning your club is more Lucifer's style than Michael's, but I doubt either of them will bother.

Killing people you like, well.

[Crowley shrugs slightly.]

There's a reason I have specialized Enochian warding burned into the foundation of this house.

[OFFLINE]

[uberboned]

Let me dream, Crowley. I happen to like my delusions.

[OFFLINE]

[integrity]

[EYE. ROLL.]

Whatever.

So long as you know it's a delusion.