[That piques his curiosity. If Crowley is being flattering, he must--but no, that makes no sense as he only just arrived here, and--he's unused to being quite this scattered. He'll lay it at the feet of being on the verge of War and stuck at a tawdry little mingle without the decency to put out canapes.

However, this talk of eldritch entities puts into focus what he has been feeling as off with this young man since first blush, and now he is focused on him fully. He tosses aside the clipboard. By some miracle (very minor) it lands face up without making much noise.

He takes Martin by both hands to look into his eyes.]

No matter where you wander or how far you go, you're going nowhere angels fear to tread, dear boy. Do you understand?