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realityshifted2011-06-17 10:08 pm
misplacedsword.livejournal.com) wrote in realityshifted2011-06-17 10:08 pm
Entry tags:
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.
[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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And now he's back to not entirely understanding all of what Nathan's saying.]
No, I can imagine that someone who tries to, er, 'explode' you, wouldn't be someone you'd miss.
[Polite cough.]
You're in a band?
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Yeah. We're called Dethklok. Our, uh, logo is on the brochures I made.
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[Nathan grins widely and with a clear sense of pride.]
I'm the vocalist, lyricist, and frontman.
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You must be quite talented, then.
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[Even if his speech, peppered with liberal cursing, may not exactly convey that.]
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You certainly seem to lead an exciting life. I suppose that's to be expected when you're in a band?
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[So does most everything else modern, for that matter.]
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[He shoves his hands into his pockets.]
We're are pretty big thing. I mean I don't think you, uh, get how big we are. Like, okay. Like, five years ago, for Murderface's birthday? The people in France burnt down the Louvre as a gift because he thought the art was shit.
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Ah. Yes. Er. That is quite impressive, to have such influence.
Yes, if the Louvre had burnt down in my world, I certainly would have known about it.
[Perhaps there is something to that demonic aura after all, though Nathan is certainly unlike any demon Aziraphale's ever known of.]
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[Nathan shrugs though.]
It's cool, though. I kinda like not being known, you know? Being a regular jackoff is alright sometimes.
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Ah, incognito. Yes, it can sometimes be a boon to go unnoticed.
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[He stops to count on his fingers.]
A year.
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A year? Good Lord. This place has been there that long?
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And it's been - merely existing here, where no one knows about it? Except the people who happen to have been allowed access to it?
[Or perhaps he should say 'have had access shoved on them,' that seems a bit more accurate.]
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And if your access has been, um, revoked? [He pauses, a bit apprehensive.] You forget. One of my bandmates, Toki, he ...forgot. I tried to drag him back up here. Didn't work.
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Apparently whoever's response for this is capable of manipulating reality in an even greater capacity than I had assumed.
[And up until now, he thought he'd known those few who could manage that.]
Ah. Er. I'm sorry, about your friend.
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Toki isn't my friend, got it?
[But he evens out quickly.]
They're not so bad though. Errr... I haven't met like, the new guys? But Meredith is pretty okay. Roe was nice. The Twins were okay.
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Are they around here a lot, then?
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Missing? And the others don't know why?
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They haven't said shit if they know or not. It's like a fucking council of vagueness over there.
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sorry for habitual editting :|
No worries! :)
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Forgive the accidental wrong journal >.<
It's cool!
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