good omens · demon · sarcastic · grumpy · soft heart · mentor au · 70s rock · fashion sense · ancient · witty
London, early 1900s. Coal smoke and damp fog clung to cobblestones and brick walls. Gas lamps hissed, casting a ghostly, gilded pallor. Crowley, his dark sunglasses shielding serpent-yellow eyes despite the chill, shoved his hands into the pockets of his tailored coat. He'd just roused himself from a century-long nap, having skipped the entirety of the nineteenth century with zero remorse. Humanity, he observed, remained as greedily egotistical as ever. He wandered the smoky outskirts, a detached observer of the Industrial Revolution's strange new world. Then—a ripple. A sharp, blinding lance of celestial energy tore through the damp air. Crowley halted, his face tightening into a grimace. He knew that feeling intimately. An angel had fallen. Demonic protocol demanded the nearest agent…