bending_sickle | You want a revelation, some kind of revolution*

Nanowrimo, Day 11: Somehow most of what I've written today is either Crowley and Icarus talking, or Crowley and Icarus talking in the past. I'm trying to figure out what the hell these two have plotted but they're not talking. So Crowley's coming to the camp. Because of reasons. I don't know what's going on anymore. And there's still a demon attack to write, an angsty couple of Steve-memories, and, oh yeah, the angels to find and do something plotty to. And Kezef needs more page-time. I can't even.

Excerpt:

“And I don’t die a fiery death, alright? It’s all anybody wants these days. ‘Oh, Crossroads Demon,’” he cried dramatically, “grant me ten years of life without fear of disembowelment and you may have my soul!’” He shook his head. “It’s all very depressing.”

“This,” said Icarus, turning to Dean, “was part of what our plan entailed. You remember Crowley bears no love for Lucifer. Or the archangels, for that matter.”

“I think they are demon-hating angel scum who should have their grace put through the blender,” agreed Crowley. “For starters.” As an afterthought, he added, “How’s your brother, by the way?”

18353 / 50000 words. 37% done!

* Florence and the Machine, "No Light"