Crowley

[Crowley]

FERGUS ‘CROWLEY’ MCLEOD


“Do you really want me dead, or alive to torture for my sins?”

Full name: Fergus Roderick McLeod
Alias: (Andreas) Crowley, King of the Crossroads, King of Hell
Race: Demon, Cross roads red eye by choice
Planet of Origin: Earth
Age: 300+
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual/Pansexual
Affiliation: Lawful Bad, Own side.
Play by: Mark Sheppard
Fandom: Supernatural



Personality:
Crowley is complex, as far as personality goes. Normally you might assume a demon to be fairly one dimensional, one sided and focused on nothing more than bringing harm to something. Crowley is different. Crowley has been known to exercise a certain level of self-restrain and order, and does not come off quick as sadistic as some of the other higher demon’s. He uses forces and pain where it is needed but does not seem to indulge in unnecessary torture, although he enjoys it immensely. This said, this trait is not witnesses purely because he does not make it public, Crowley is a very cruel individual when the desire to be takes him. He feels no remorse or pity for those he chooses to inflict pain upon. He’s greedy, Ambitious and selfish, and will stop at very little to obtain what he wants at minimal loss to himself.

On the flip side of his sadism, Crowley also has a shred of humanity in him still, which is extremely rare for a demon. This means he’s capable, if not easily, of love, and his love is often the dangerous, possessive and obsessive kind. He’s socially capable without making too much of a pain of himself, although he does get a little pleasure out of hounding people. In plain English: He’s a wind up. He does however, become attached to people and once that happens he considers them to be his.

His exterior mask resembles black coffee: Smooth, velvet, but a little sharp and bitter. He’s got almost no ‘sweet’ qualities about him, nor does he want any. ‘Loving’ or affectionate behaviour towards him make the demon fairly uncomfortable and reverse psychology work’s quite well on this demon. He does not appreciate overbearing come on’s from other people, or being chased, because he prefers to be the one chasing. Get too close to his tail and he will hiss.

If angered, Crowley is vicious and vengeful. He will go out of his way to hurt someone who has hurt him, or anyone he considers to be his. If you’re on the receiving end of his vendetta, you’re as good as fucked.


Appearance:
Crowley is very appearance proud. His chosen vessel is one that compliments a good suit. He is short, standing at 5’9, and broad shouldered. Stocky would be a good descriptive word, although he’s also quite slim at the ribs, hips and stomach. His skin’s fairly pale, with black hair and overly large, deep hazel eyes that flicks between hazel gold and hazel green depending on his mood. Of course, sometimes those large eyes are crossroads red. He has smaller details about him that are unique too, for instance, Crowley has very well groomed, fairly long nails for a man, possibly something the demon inside promotes (Claws). His teeth vessels teeth have slightly pointed K9’s on his upper row, making him fanged, other than that his teeth are perfectly straight, Hollywood white.

His fashion sense is far from casual. He always wears suits, even when he’s relaxing in which case he just dresses it down. His suits are often all black with a splash of purple in the accessories, but he does also own a shark skin grey one and a single ALL white one, which he intends to wear when he finally takes the ice throne. He does like his clichés. He’s detail obsessed with his clothing, so he won’t be found without his cufflinks and diamond tie pins. ALL of his attire is tailored or designer, and he spares no expense.

He is clean shaven 70% of the time, but occasionally work catches up to him and grooming has to sit on the back seat for a day or two, giving him a fairly rugged ghosting of facial hair, also black. He always wears cologne, and he always does his hair (Unless caught off guard at the end of the day, in which case you might catch him looking less than fresh).


Scars: One small scar on his vessel’s hand.
Tattoos or piercings: Dragon Tattoo’s across his shoulders and upper arms, which he hides with concealing charms.
Distinguishing features: Large hazel eyes. Quite short. Receding black hair.

Strengths: (At least 5)
*Advanced Pyrokenetic, capable of summoning large spaces of fire, and moving it to his will (Could almost call him a fire bender). This skill comes from his level lord status over the 6th Circle of Hell: Dis.
*Silver tongued, can talk most people into most things. Very skilled salesman. Can speak all languages known to humans, also capable of reading Latin and speaking Latin (Some latin doesn’t hurt demons, you know) and knows some enochian too.
*Independently wealthy from good investments, which are mostly governed by his Personal Assistant John Stark, another crossroads demon with a mathematical talent.
*Owns various establishments, including nightclubs, homes, and businesses. Also handled by his PA.
*Knowledge of magic, Charms and Hex’s. Extensive knowledge of binding spells, can lock other demons in buildings.

Weaknesses: (At least 5)
*Devil’s traps, aren’t all demons? He still hasn’t sussed how to get out of these.
*Salt, although he’s stronger than lesser demons and can sometimes handle a line of salt without too much difficulty.
*Holy Water, It makes him steam, hiss and forces his eye color out.
*Latin and exorcism.
*His own arrogance, Pride comes before a fall.

Likes: (At least 5)
* Scotch Whisky, but not just any Scotch Whisky. He likes a specific Scotch known as ‘Craigs’. He won’t tend to drink anything less than 30+ years matured unless he’s desperate. He won’t touch Irish whiskey on Principle.
*Fine suits, preferably tailored but is also an avid fan of Armarni, Gucci and Dolce and Gabbana.
*Cologne, as he’s very aware demons give off the smell of sulphur and Brimstone, although due to good choices in fragrance, Crowley does not carry this trait.
*Sex, who doesn’t? He’s a borderline Incubus though. He prefers men over women, but he will take the occasional woman if he thinks she’s good enough for him.
*Power, He’s obsessed with it. He fully intends to claim the ice throne in level 9 once Lucifer has been vanquished.

Dislikes: (At least 5)
* Being belittled or looked down upon by his (rare) superiors.
*Lucifer. Goes without saying that he is not a daddy’s boy.
*Humiliation, it’s the quickest and easiest way to break him down. He hates being made an example of, being talked down on, or being treated as an underling.
*Bad scotch, Gah!
*Bad Fashion senses, there’s really no excuse.

Notable Artillery: Extensive collection of Relics, weaponized, medical and aid.
Head of the crossroads business, meaning he has access to souls.
Significant Relics:
*The Ring of Solomon (Controls demons of all levels if worn)
*The Arc of the Covenant (You should know)
*The true shroud of Turin (The cloth that covered the body of Jesus, is stained in his blood, does magic things)
*A Portal Mirror (It goes somewhere)
Family:
Human
Wife (Deceases, unknown name)
Son: named Gavin (Deceases, spirit)
Demon
Demonic Brother: John Stark


History:
Fergus Roderick McLeod was a ‘two bit’ Taylor , born 1661. He as estranged from his family (one brother and parents) and moved to the other end of Scotland, Arbroath. He was a dis-satisfied man with his lot who thought he was robbed of a destiny greater than the one he was stuck with. To make this worse, he was not the most fantastic of lovers, and although he sired a son, he couldn’t satisfy his wife. Chances were high she stayed with him for survival rather than love. Because of this he was a hard drinker, and often spent more money than he earned on a whiskey named Craigs, which he started drinking in grade school. Later in life (Around the age of 30) he sold his soul at the crossroads to improve his sexual prowess with an extra 3 inches. The exact reason for this deal is unknown and possibly even forgotten by the demon himself now. His new found assets made him greedy and he strayed from his marriage, not that that was uncommon amongst men of that Era. What WAS uncommon was that he strayed further than just women, and started to babble in the forbidden (men).

Ten years later, his number was up, and he was ripped downwards by hellhounds. His widowed wife died shortly after him, and his son, Gavin, left Scotland on the seven sea’s for America but was unfortunately killed when the ship was sunk before they reached their destination. Crowley spent years on the racks under demons such as Alastair before he broke, forged into a silver tongued crossroads demon. The new demon managed to salvage a tiny amount of his humanity from the racks before he was thrown out by the pit to do his job. He started low in the ranks, Nothing more than a ‘punk ass crossroads demon’, but his ambition soon pushed him to claw up the ranks of the soul dealing industry. He was good at his job, proving to be a very effective salesman by any means necessary, even if that meant selling more than just his demonic services to get a close. Hell took notice, and so did bigger demons. He ‘Romanced’ his way through hell, making enemies doing so, but also making strong contacts.

His work got him noticed by the demon Lilith, who took him as her lover and eventually Husband. Through his he became a level lord of the 6th Level of Hell, The City of Dis, and the Crossroads King once Lilith was killed. His high status as Lilith’s Spouse earned him good contacts in the relic industry, and his name quickly became feared. It took him years, but hard work and whoring himself built him his empire. During this time, in the late 1800’s, a member of his human blood line from his brother’s side made a deal, and was subsequently dragged down to the racks, where Crowley himself took a great interest. The man’s name was John, who would later become his PA once broken into a crossroads.

Crowley has purposefully kept himself out of human known ‘Demonic History’, but has been involved in various human atrocities throughout history, including World war 1, The rise (and fall) of Adolf Hitler, Jack the Ripper, and the assassination of president Kennedy.

When Lilith was killed, he became the official king of the crossroads, and therefore held all the contracts of the sold souls, which boosted his power endlessly. Unfortunately, her death also released Lucifer. Since then he’s had to step carefully, living in places highly warded and displaying the fact this demon has extensive knowledge of Enchocian to keep Lucifer from finding him. Not only are his antics putting him on Lucifer’s hit list, but he also believes that should Lucifer succeed in bringing about the end of humanity, then Demons are next on death row. He then made himself known to the Winchesters, even giving them the Colt to take and ‘Empty into Lucifer’s Face’. Sadly, that plan wasn’t as fool proof as the demon had hoped. He has still made his alliance to team free will perfectly clear, although refuses to relent his bad guy methods of getting what he wants. He might be allied to the Angels against Lucifer, but he most certainly isn’t ‘one of them’.

He is now directly involved with the Winchesters, and highly interested in their associate and experienced Hunter ‘Robert Singer’, for his own personal reasons. He believes the Winchesters are his best chance of extinguishing Lucifer once and for all from the game, and when this happens, he will take superior reign of every level of Hell, including Level 9 and the Ice throne. Of course, recently, two new associates have come to light, two non-human associates…ones that aren’t even from Earth.

Role Play Sample:

Crowley lounged in the front room of Singer’s abode. No matter how many sigil’s the old hunter put up, or how many ways he tried to keep Crowley out of his house, he never seemed to manage it. The Demon still kept walking right in and making himself comfortable, and Bobby STILL hadn’t sussed how it worked. He probably never would, and it made the demon smile every time he thought about it. He settled his vessel neatly into one of the large, brocade armchairs and looked about the room, swirling the amber liquid around his glass. His own supply, of course, he wouldn’t be caught dead drinking the gut rot Singer kept drinking. Large golden eyes scanned the fading wall paper, the slightly dusty dark wooden furniture that dotted about the place in seemingly no specific order, the piles and piles of old books that could do with a shelving cabinet.

My God, this place could do with a woman’s touch. Or even a gay man’s touch.

He sipped his drink, eyes still looking at the mess. Although he disapproved of it, or the idea of living in it anyway, something about it charmed Crowley, bit like the Hunter all this belonged too: Old, scruffy, but charming and weirdly attractive. Weirdly? No, Crowley knew exactly why Singer was attractive to him, and like hell he was leaking that information without a little push. Not only was it a disadvantage, it was also down right embarrassing. No wonder he’d started to drink a little more than usual these days.
He dropped his eyes from the fading wall paper to the floor, dark wooden panelling lining both the living room and the kitchen. He wondered who’d chosen that, considering South Dakota was not always known for its warm weather, surely wooden flooring was unwise? Suppose it didn’t matter when Singer’s time in the kitchen generally considered of warming up tinned food and making toast. That man could really do with a good meal, at his age nutrition was important. Why did he even care? He forced himself to stop thinking such fucking silly thought.

It was 2am now, confirmed when Singer’s clock ticked over and chimed softly, barely audible over both the Television Crowley was half-heartedly watching, and the storm that was raging something Chronic outside. It was battering the windows with rain hard enough that the demon suspected the Hunter upstairs wasn’t even sleeping. Which was what he was aiming to achieve with the TV on loud down stairs. Any moment now he expected the barrel of a rifle to come around the corner, followed by a greying hunter, and ending with ‘CROWLEY? What the hell ya thinkin’ ya doin’ ere this time o’night?’.

But until Singer got his pants on and his rifle out and loaded, and his achy, probably creaky self down the stairs, then he’d just sit and wait and drink scotch. Pity there was nothing on the TV worth watching tonight. Singer didn’t even seem to have any decent porn channels. It was all standard, and straight for the most part. Boring, in short, he really hoped Singer wasn’t as Vanilla as his TV channels suggested.

[The Master]

The Master Approves!



Please fill out your claims, and welcome aboard, Fergie!