realityshifted | 001 | an angel's arrival

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good omens (d4) aziraphale

001 | an angel's arrival

[Aziraphale appears on the Plane, looking about in bemusement.] Oh, dear. This wasn’t quite what I expected.

[He knew there’d been something strange about that shop. Still, it’s a bit disappointing. He’d been somewhat looking forward to the prospect of a new little store. They often contain books overlooked by everyone else in some forgotten corner.]

Adam? [Asked hesitantly, because this certainly isn’t Heaven, it doesn’t seem to be Hell, and that more or less leaves the cause of this in the hands of the only teenager he knows who’s capable of manipulating reality.]

[Then he spots the kiosk and strides over, selecting the first brochure (paper, of course, his brief interaction with the machine in order to get it to print was more than enough) and begins to skim it, murmuring comments aloud as he does.] Do former hellhounds count as sentient, I wonder? Chicago? That seems rather a random choice. Television character? As if I’d– Test subjects? Dear Lord. ‘Dragged from one reality to anoth-’

[There he stops, frowning at the area around him.] Oh, come now, dear boy, this is quite surpassing the top. [Not exactly the expression he’s looking for, but he continues on unperturbed.] Perhaps I do need a change of scenery, but this is hardly the appropriate way to go about achieving that. I’m very busy, you know, so I’m afraid I really must insist you put reality back in its proper order. [That comes out a bit more disapproving than he’d intended, and he pauses.] Er. Please. I’d very much appreciate it, if you don’t mind.

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[Crowley had been wandering around the Plane, hunting for his bloody sunglasses. He was currently wearing the outfit Gwen had brought him: a tunic, britches, and cloak all fit for a king. He would have been wearing the suit that Brax had given him, but he needed some variety, blast it.]

Bloody Machine. Where are my bloo---

[He heard a voice. It was at once familiar and welcome, but also entirely, gut-wrenchingly painful. It brought back wonderful, peaceful, perfect memories and the memories of losing his soul mate. And he'd really come to think of his angel as his soul mate over the thirty years since his death.

He moved faster than he thought he could toward the sound of that voice, rounding the corner to the kiosk and froze. Standing there with his back to him was a familiar set of shoulders and mop of beautiful golden curls. He trembled for a moment. He couldn't possibly... Finally...]

Angel?

[Aziraphale had been expecting a response of some kind (hopefully the dissolution of whatever this place was and the return of his own reality, perhaps accompanied by Adam looking sheepish and appropriately chastised), but the voice he heard was absolutely not it. He turned, quite certain he'd been hearing things. It wouldn't be the first time, really, and -

He dropped the paper he'd been holding. He wasn't hearing things. Or perhaps he was, and just seeing things as well. Hallucinating. Was he capable of hallucinating? If he was, this was a particularly cruel hallucination. Crowley's clothes were wrong, for one thing. Neither of them had worn anything like that for ages. (Yes, clothes, that's what's wrong with this situation.) And if it was a hallucination, that meant sooner or later, it would stop being there, and Aziraphale couldn't - he didn't -

Aziraphale still hadn't said anything. He should say something. Hallucination or not, Crowley was standing there, and it wasn't polite to just stare at him without saying anything.]

Crowley.

[He's hoped, he's dreamed that the Plane would bring him his perfect, wonderful, beautiful Angel. And while only a few minutes earlier he'd been blessing the Machine, he is now feeling grateful again. He doesn't care if he never found his shades. He doesn't care if he is forever as weak as a human. Anything is bearable as long as this is real.

He stares for a long moment, trying to decide if this is real or not. Maybe this is an experiment or a hallucination. There is only one way to find out for real. He closes the distance between them and pulls the angel into a desperate kiss, one hand caressing his cheek, the other running through his hair.]

[As unexpected as seeing Crowley was, what he does next is - well, no, it's not more unexpected. Crowley had been dead, gone, and seeing him again had been infinitely more surprising than Crowley kissing him.

There's a brief moment of shock, then Aziraphale finds himself kissing back, tentative and very brief, before he pulls away.]

That was nice, my dear, but as apologies go, I'm afraid it hardly makes up for allowing me to believe you were dead. You'll have to try a bit harder if you wish to be forgiven.

[That's a little bit of a lie. Crowley's more or less on the road to forgiveness just by standing here, being alive. But Aziraphale's still upset. Once he stops being a bit dazed from the kiss, he'll work himself up into a proper anger.]

[The kiss was like tasting heaven (and tea) for Crowley. He didn't want it to ever end. But of course, his wishes were not to be granted and the angel pulled away much, much too soon for his taste. He looks momentarily confused listening to the angel speak before realization dawns on him. Dead? Oh.... Bloody hell... He frowns.]

I'm dead on your world...

[He looks down. Somehow telling Aziraphale that he was dead in the demon's world was more painful than telling that other handsome devil.]

Angel... In my world, you're dead.

[Whatever tentative grasp Aziraphale thought he had on the situation is now gone. Aziraphale attempts to put those words together in a way that makes some form of sense, and fails utterly.]

Have you been drinking, my dear?

[He can never quite understand the point Crowley's trying to make when he's drunk. Generally that's because Aziraphale's quite intoxicated as well, but being sober doesn't seem to help much.]

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/fixes tense lol

/didn't even notice. fails. XD

<3 We're both awesome like that.

Re: <3 We're both awesome like that.