[WoD] An Unexpected Guest (COMPLETE)

It was not midnight, nor was it dreary – in fact, it was a bright mid-afternoon - when the raven landed on the roof of Timeless Antiquities. High in the sky the sun shone brightly, leaving the pavement below dappled with the swaying shadows of leaves. The bird, rather large for its kind, surveyed the area from its vantage, pacing carefully to the roofs edge. It's beady eyes darted to and fro, taking in all their was to see.

Once it was apparently satisfied, it took flight and glided on wide dark wings onto the windowsill of the top floor of the building, the floor on which the shops owner lived.

The window was open. The bird peered inside, its head cocked first to one side then to another, as it took in the empty room. It then hopped to the side, looking down once more into the street as a blue car – a Mustang - pulled into the curb beside the shop, music filtering out of its open windows. A young woman stepped out of the drivers seat and the raven watched curiously as she walked, arms full, towards the shops entrance.

:: Fiona opened the door and placed the package on the counter, then stepped out again and locked up the car. The shop was quiet today, only a few customers, but she had hired help to take care of things as she took the elevator up to the top floor ::

With a quick flutter of its wings, the raven drifted from the windowsill. It landed on the arm of a chair and eyed the rooms entrance eagerly.

:: The very first thing Fiona noticed after closing the door was the large black bird perched on her favorite chair. Her eyes shifted from the bird to the open window and back to the bird again ::

The raven cocked its head to one side then the other, as it looked between the window and Fiona, apparently mimicking her movements. It then gave a loud caw and hopped down onto the seat of the chair.

:: She raised a brow at the raven, turning her attention to the kitchen as she went to get herself a drink ::

While Fiona busied herself in another room, the raven did the most peculiar thing - it turned into a man. The man perched on the chair, much as the bird had done before him, with his arms crossed, his elbows resting on his knees.

:: Fiona blinked, and managed to hold onto her glass as she gazed at her unexpected guest. She had seen many things over the centuries, but occasions such as this were unusual, even in this city. She took a sip of her vanilla coke before speaking ::

"Who are you?"

“Kristopher Crowley... just Crowley to the world at large. Savant and collector by trade – but who I am is trivial in the grand scheme of things,” he said, with a dismissive gesture. “You, on the other hand...”

As he spoke, his eyes lit up. “I've heard so much about. It's fantastic to finally meet you in person, Miss Devlin.”

:: Her eyes darted to the clock. Michele would be home in a few hours. Taking a seat across from Crowley, she asked the next obvious question ::

"What do you want?"

Direct and to the point. Crowley smiled.

“Just to talk. If you're busy now, we can do so at a more convenient time... but there are some things I'd like to pick your brain about. People, places, things. You have a lot of stories to tell.”

:: She smiled back, almost laughing ::

"You think so?"

“Now, don't be coy. In all your years on this planet, you have seen things the likes of which most people can't even imagine. You have plenty of stories.”

Though hidden behind dark glasses, Crowley's eyes darted here and there while he was talking. He observed carefully Fiona's mannerisms, from the way she positioned herself, to the movements of her eyes and the subtle nuances in her expression. Observation was a fine art and one that Crowley's kind had been bred for.

:: She raised a brow again, observing Crowley just as intently ::

"Would you like a drink?"

Second only to his love for knowledge and all things shiny was Crowley's love for a good drink. If nothing else, it helped to loosen the tongues of those around you. People were more willing to spill their thoughts if they'd already spilled a few pints.

“A drink would be marvellous, yes, thank you for your hospitality.”

Seeing as it seemed he would be staying a while, Crowley decided to remove his jacket. It was black, and so was everything underneath. Black slacks and a black button-down shirt. It made him look very pale, and slightly ill, given his thin frame.

"What's your poison?"

:: She took another sip from her glass again as she stood up ::

The eyes of the dead. Crowley pursed his lips and bit his tongue.

“Whatever the chef recommends.”

"Right."

:: she went into the kitchen again and brought him back a Guinness ::

"You have me at a disadvantage, Mr. Crowley. Have you been in the city long?"

“Ah, the black stufff – how fitting!” Crowley accepted the glass, apparently quite tickled. He took a long sip, the rich taste a welcome change from that of rain water sipped from puddles.

“Have I been in the city long,” he mused aloud, setting his glass down on the table between himself and Fiona. “I... travel a lot, though I have to say that I do find myself drawn back to Chicago frequently. As I'm sure you know, there's lots going on in the windy city, lot's to take note of. Every day is as unique and curious as the one before it.

...but what about you? How long have you been here?”

"Not long." she replied casually.