closed starter | @thatsineffable

Raymond was very careful with his magic. Making sure to do it outside their home and making sure not to make a spectacle out of it. He used his knowledge of Dennis' 'thread', carefully honing in on the trail it left behind as he jumped around. And soon, it became obvious he had been near some sort of magic. Some sort of bright spot almost. That had to be it.

In a corner of the bookstore, a portal quietly carves it way through realities. A man with wild curls and a beard peeks through the hole, eyes almost sparkling at the sight of many, many books. Excellent! No one seemed to be around either, so he stepped through and closed the portal after himself. Time to browse. Hopefully it wasn't a closed shop he had just entered.

"What strange manner of creature you are, and yet unmistakably familiar."

"I could say the same of you. How flattering to be recognized by an unfallen angel, of all beings. And here I thought most of you had your heads stuck up too high into the clouds to be aware of what your Fallen kin have been up to down on Earth." He raised a brow. "But I suppose you're not just any angel, are you?"

The fairy smiled and offered the angel an elegant bow. "The name is Puck. I daresay an angel who's been on this Earth as long as you have might know me from one of Shakespeare's plays. Your own reputation proceeds you, Aziraphale." He straightend back up. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

@thatsineffable - from [X]

Aziraphale could be absolutely insufferable when he wanted to, and it seemed like, in this moment, he absolutely wanted to. Crowley threw his head back with a dramatic groan.

A masquerade? Really? He didn't get why that was so important to Aziraphale that it warranted such a petty little reaction (though if he was being honest with himself---and he often wasn't---Aziraphale's petty streak was one of the things he liked most about him). And as much as a masked ball was really not Crowley's style, he was relatively certain he would go absolutely mad with boredom if Aziraphale kept snubbing him like this much longer.

He swayed his head from side to side, as though what Aziraphale was asking of him was some great chore, before, ultimately, relenting.

"Fine, fine. If you're going to be that way about it, I'll go."

@thatsineffable (x)

"Well, that’s one way to make an introduction!"

"Yeah..." Dennis tried his best to be polite, to keep the cringe internal and act like he had truly something worth admiring. But magic shows were rarely awespiring to him these days, and when the trick fails to boot... Well.

He mustered up the best smile he could manage in the face of such sadness. "Well, at least you didn't lose your tea cup, yeah?"

@thatsineffable | Like for a one liner! [x]

"So..... are they permanent, or do you molt?"

Continued from x for @thatsineffable

Aziraphale's hands clasped together, wringing nervously around each other. He turned slightly away, as if avoiding eye contact could somehow make Crowley's words less true. "I'm not lying. Everything is," his voice sank lower while he dared a brief glance up at the demon, "perfectly fine."

----

Crowley watched the angel. He was everything not fine. Every action and every movement was the opposite of fine. Every word dripped with lacking of fine. "Angel, you are one tickety boo away from self-imploding," he retorted. "Tell me, what is the matter. Your words might not say it but your tone is laying it all out there. So tell me what is the matter."

          she  entered  the  book  store  ,  searching  to  see  if  crowley  happened  to  be  there.  of  course,  the  young  woman  hadn't  been  to  this  place  and  she  was  hoping  that  just  maybe  ,  she  wasn't  lost.   but  this  was  the  address  that  the  demon  had  given  her  .  eyes  roamed  around  ,  and  she  couldn't  help  btu  smile.  it'd  been  a  while  since  she'd  been  in  a  book  store.  mostly  because  she'd  been  so  wrapped  up  in  other  things.  she  had  nearly  forgotten  how  it  felt.  the  sense  of  curiosity  that  filled  her.  and  then  a  voice  caused  her  to  turn  around  .  bright  blue  eyes  ,  meeting  another's  .  "  oh.  i'm  --  sorry.  i  didn't  mean  to  just  barge  in.  "  davina  replied.  "  but  yes  ,  i'm  actually  looking  for  a  friend.  his  name  is  crowley  .  have  you  .  .  seen  him  by  any  chance?  " 

@thatsineffable : "Are you looking for someone, dear?"

There wasn’t much that she understood.

No, that wasn’t quite right. That was just what most people thought. Buttercup understood plenty, she just took her time processing it. And that was alright, wasn’t it? It was okay to take your time. She evaluated and thought things over before forming an opinion. Sometimes it was the same opinion as everyone else and so people thought she was slow and stupid and following the crowd - but that wasn’t it. She’d thought it over and just agreed with them. That was all. And sometimes she didn’t agree. And people thought her slow and stupid for thinking differently. She really couldn’t win!

And now she was a Princess on the run and many strange things were happening and it was taking longer to understand.

Which maybe explained why she simply had no idea what this strange stranger was saying. Was he even speaking Florinese? No, that was it. ENGLISH. Was that what he was speaking? Well she would do her best.

“I’m sorry, but the last time I stopped to give someone directions I ended up kidnapped. It was quite the ordeal you understand. I don’t mean to be rude and take my time answering.”

closed starter !! @thatsineffable

@thatsineffable asked: ➳ (for Crowley!)

Send ➳ and I’ll generate a number between 1-  15 to see what kind of kiss my muse will give yours! | Accepting 6. A drunken kiss

Crowley lifted up the empty bottle, tipping it upside down and mewling softly as the last single drop fell to the ground. The drunken demon tosses the bottle to the side and watches it fall to the couch and then roll onto the floor.

He looks over at Aziraphale, cocking his head to the side before slinking toward the angel. The demon grabs the other by the lapels of his jacket and pulls him in for a sloppy drunken kiss.

Starter for @thatsineffable

Raymond had timed it better this time. At least he was pretty sure he had, it was a little difficult to consider time difference in the multiverse. With a colorful swirl, a portal opened up in a dark corner of the bookshop and Ray peeked out. Well, it looked to be daytime... no one was around buying books though... It was probably because of the prices.

Excitedly, he stepped out and closed the portal again, clutching and old, old book to his chest. Ray had searched for it for a while and he was excited to show Mr. Fell something that was hopefully rare for him too.

Considering the angel had practically felt the magic previously, the sorcerer had a pretty good idea he'd be found quickly, so he wandered around the shop, looking for the man - and maybe getting distracted by some books.

"I realize this may not be a question you want to answer, and by no means are you obliged to do so, but...can you be discorporated? Not that I have any intention of trying, mind you."

"A question from you? How could I resist?" He chuckled lightly before thinking about the question with a smirk. "If you say so, angel. But that's a good question. If by 'discorporated' you mean my soul being separated from my body (assuming I have a soul or spirit), I think so, but not in the way of you angels and demons. Probably more so like humans in that we're likely more attached to our bodies than you are, so once we're separated from them, it's not as though we can just take over or inhabit another. That's just my theory, though, judging from the fact that fairies don't seem to return to Earth once they've been 'discorporated'."

He spread his arms and shrugged. "Another theory is that since we're beings made up of magic, once we've been discorporated - whether by disbelief or otherwise - we simply cease to exist. Or return to the state of wild, raw magic without individuality from which we came to be."

@thatsineffable - from [X]

Crowley was, of course, being facetious when he'd made his statement. Mostly, he'd wanted to see Aziraphale's reaction to such a self-aggrandizing claim; he hadn't really expected him to come right out and say that Crowley made things more interesting. It wasn't often Aziraphale caught him by surprise; score one for him, Crowley supposed. His long legs uncrossed, and then recrossed the other way, and he rolled his neck so his lolled in the angel's direction.

"Like you said, it wouldn't be as interesting. That's practically the same thing. Just imagine how boring your time on earth would have been without me here to stir up trouble."

@thatsineffable

Oh. He didn't like that chill. Something felt horribly, horribly awry. He set the cup in his hand down on the desk, straightening up as he turned around. "Hello?"

Stillness and quiet answered the angel's call while dust weightlessly and harmlessly fluttered about through the rays of sunlight poking through the storefront's windows. All was calm, unbothered, and untouched by any who weren't the Guardian of the East Gate.

But just as the feeling of unease started to pass, there would be another thump in the shop; another book flying off the shelf and across the room in a burst of frustration.

@thatsineffable || cont. from here

》 What an odd thing to say..... especially to that of a recently-grieving father. It's not like this turn of phrase would be insane to hear out of nowhere — Hurricane was a small town and word spread fast. Many brought his family condolences, gifts, and other things that go along with the grieving process. Yet, somehow, none of them had been as strange as this fellow in front of him. The town was small, but not that small. Having one Brit in middle-of-nowhere Utah was strange enough, but two that happened to not know each other? It smelled fishy, to say the least

❝ That's.... that's appreciated, thank you. ❞

》 William solemnly toyed with his glass, watching the remainder of the carbonated bubbles rise to the surface of his gin-and-coke. Though he never truly gave up on his psychoanalytical ways, they were certainly in remission for the time being. He really hadn't felt up to maintaining his classic character, both inward and outward. Frankly, for once in his life, he didn't know what to say to the stranger. Instead, he used his free arm to present a weak gesture at the bar stool beside him — one that whispered silent prayers of not wanting to be left alone.

For @thatsineffable , continued from x

“I’m sorry.” Lenny offered suddenly, and he could have been apologizing for a great many things - distracting the man from his business, breezing into the bookshop as he had, or dropping a small spiritual crisis at his feet. It was probably the latter.

“Black is fine.” It was an afterthought, as the cleric lowered himself hesitantly into the chair. This, he decided, was significantly better than spilling one’s spiritual woes to someone he already knew - there was a high likelihood he would never see this man again, for one, and comfort in anonymity.

“You’re not the first I’ve heard refer to God in the feminine. Why is that? It’s not regularly taught.”

" cause you and i know i can't go between the gallows and the gates . "

@thatsineffable : 🎁 ( #25 ; between - by courrier )