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wip update
2024-12-18 09:30
some flats for kil-punzel( 2024.12.18 )
Wip of Kidd & Fem!killer post wano fight; alittle bit of comfort after all the hurt
( 2024.12.16 sketch )
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( 2024.12.16 sketch )
noblemen au
2022-06-30 20:06His mother in law had just died.
Which in of itself was a surprise, because gabriel was under the impression that she had passed away long ago, not too long after Prince Sandlephons first steps.
Now, nearly two decades later, her grieving children where lined up in a row in the throne room. The guards, unaware of the familiar connection, had stepped back into the shadows, alert but out of earshot of the queens calm words, as Prince Sandlephon and Queen Micheal quietly regarded the assembly. Gabriel did not join his wife, instead standing off to the side with his sister in law, sandelphons wife ureil.
The late queen had been busy after her ‘death’; seven siblings in a row, identified as Raphael the eldest, Camael, Jophiel, Zadkiel, Barachiel, hanel and Aziraphale as the babe of the group. One already on the path of adult hood, the youngest b arely old enough to read room and know when to stand in alliance.
Micheal stood face to fave with Raphael, who looked no younger than sandelphne, and the spitting image of the late King that had escored Miceahl down the isale to gabrials own wedding years ago. While the reest shared their eyes of their mothers, their faces too different to word about any such claim to the throne.
byt he elder. Urial must have seen it too, her face pinced. Her own marriage into the family solidified a favioustl dean for both kingdoms, but was a threat for micheals throne. After her wedding was consummated, but before uriel could bear children, micheal had gelded her own brother to secure her own bloodline with gabriel. No such children had come to fruition yet, and having raphael appear now but them all endanger of the queens careful planning, and her coldness when things do not follow said plan
“You look like my father” was all the queen said, “such a pity in that”
Her blade cut cleaning though the young man neck before he could acklowde the remark. Guards moved to restrain the remain 6 children before they really understood what they had seen. Poor sheltered things.
Queen michel nodded to the Captain of her Guards. “Take the body too, I want this floor cleaned quickly. Remove these changlings from sight, bury them quickly before remours can take seed.”
Her captain, steelfaced in his duty hand a hand to pause her. She nodded to him, “the ground will be too frozen to dig a pit that large without gather attention.”
She nodded, “in the dungeon then, and brick off the door so none see a cell but instead a wall. If the rats leave us anything come spring we will deal with it then.”
It was a fortnite before gabriel thought on such matters again, ureil approaching quietly in the growing twilight. She shared the Queens bed as often as he did, and while they could never come together in union, they did pass quiet time in teacher others company often. “Whicpers tell me the walls have stop screams finally”
“We may not have known what we marrie dinto, but it no difference from where we came from. Did our own fathers not do much the same?”
“They where children gabriel. And micheal would not even exend last rites to them”
“I will fetch a prient. Before anymore rot sets in - “
“You know a priest who will keep such a thing secret?”
Gabriel nodded, “Aye. i do.i have trusted him with many things since i arrived and not one has found its way back to the majesty.”
Gabriel himself helps the man of god remove the stones, letting light in for the first time in days. While winter raged outside, this low in the easther it was humid and warm and rot help thick to the air. Gabriel was glad to be where workers robes - they would have to be burned after this. No washing would ever get the smell out. His preienst entered; bastards children would need all the parayers they could get.
“Your magejsty…” his prst summoned his attention, glazing down the hall warly.
“Wha is it father?”
Gabriel glanced in, the rourchlight dim int he misama, and the predict nodded to the back corner. Water leaked down the wall from above, shimmering int he firelight. Also, in the light, the muddy, wet curls of the youngest glittered ina dark halo.
Newly dead then, not yet rotted away. Except.
A glimemr of light on slitted eyes. As gabriel approached, the head tilted just a fraction.
“By god…”
“Aye,” murmured the priest.
14 days in the dark. Alone as their siblings died and rotted arpund them.
“Can… can you stand child?”
Painfully slow, the child unfolded from their corner they’d found refude, never quiet looking up, head bowed.
Once tastefully elegant Travel robes for meeting the royal family not hung in black tatters. Gabreil drew his sword.
You majest?” the prist questioned. He understood the duties royalty sometimes had to take, but he would not remain to wistenss a childs murder. Yet, gabril could ot seal the wall again with the child alive inside. Best a quick death like the eldest got. No more suffering.
Gabriel paused though. Carefully, he lifted the robes up with the tip of his sword, bare stick this legs underneath. Higher. Higher.
“Father, you speak highly of the nunnery in the north. Good, God-fearing women”
“They are your majesty. For all their chatting, they are very good at keeping secrets. Can speak for days on end and never say a thing of importance.”
Gabriel withdre his sword. “I believe you have found on orphan on your travels. May the lord shone on their newest servant.”
Which in of itself was a surprise, because gabriel was under the impression that she had passed away long ago, not too long after Prince Sandlephons first steps.
Now, nearly two decades later, her grieving children where lined up in a row in the throne room. The guards, unaware of the familiar connection, had stepped back into the shadows, alert but out of earshot of the queens calm words, as Prince Sandlephon and Queen Micheal quietly regarded the assembly. Gabriel did not join his wife, instead standing off to the side with his sister in law, sandelphons wife ureil.
The late queen had been busy after her ‘death’; seven siblings in a row, identified as Raphael the eldest, Camael, Jophiel, Zadkiel, Barachiel, hanel and Aziraphale as the babe of the group. One already on the path of adult hood, the youngest b arely old enough to read room and know when to stand in alliance.
Micheal stood face to fave with Raphael, who looked no younger than sandelphne, and the spitting image of the late King that had escored Miceahl down the isale to gabrials own wedding years ago. While the reest shared their eyes of their mothers, their faces too different to word about any such claim to the throne.
byt he elder. Urial must have seen it too, her face pinced. Her own marriage into the family solidified a favioustl dean for both kingdoms, but was a threat for micheals throne. After her wedding was consummated, but before uriel could bear children, micheal had gelded her own brother to secure her own bloodline with gabriel. No such children had come to fruition yet, and having raphael appear now but them all endanger of the queens careful planning, and her coldness when things do not follow said plan
“You look like my father” was all the queen said, “such a pity in that”
Her blade cut cleaning though the young man neck before he could acklowde the remark. Guards moved to restrain the remain 6 children before they really understood what they had seen. Poor sheltered things.
Queen michel nodded to the Captain of her Guards. “Take the body too, I want this floor cleaned quickly. Remove these changlings from sight, bury them quickly before remours can take seed.”
Her captain, steelfaced in his duty hand a hand to pause her. She nodded to him, “the ground will be too frozen to dig a pit that large without gather attention.”
She nodded, “in the dungeon then, and brick off the door so none see a cell but instead a wall. If the rats leave us anything come spring we will deal with it then.”
It was a fortnite before gabriel thought on such matters again, ureil approaching quietly in the growing twilight. She shared the Queens bed as often as he did, and while they could never come together in union, they did pass quiet time in teacher others company often. “Whicpers tell me the walls have stop screams finally”
“We may not have known what we marrie dinto, but it no difference from where we came from. Did our own fathers not do much the same?”
“They where children gabriel. And micheal would not even exend last rites to them”
“I will fetch a prient. Before anymore rot sets in - “
“You know a priest who will keep such a thing secret?”
Gabriel nodded, “Aye. i do.i have trusted him with many things since i arrived and not one has found its way back to the majesty.”
Gabriel himself helps the man of god remove the stones, letting light in for the first time in days. While winter raged outside, this low in the easther it was humid and warm and rot help thick to the air. Gabriel was glad to be where workers robes - they would have to be burned after this. No washing would ever get the smell out. His preienst entered; bastards children would need all the parayers they could get.
“Your magejsty…” his prst summoned his attention, glazing down the hall warly.
“Wha is it father?”
Gabriel glanced in, the rourchlight dim int he misama, and the predict nodded to the back corner. Water leaked down the wall from above, shimmering int he firelight. Also, in the light, the muddy, wet curls of the youngest glittered ina dark halo.
Newly dead then, not yet rotted away. Except.
A glimemr of light on slitted eyes. As gabriel approached, the head tilted just a fraction.
“By god…”
“Aye,” murmured the priest.
14 days in the dark. Alone as their siblings died and rotted arpund them.
“Can… can you stand child?”
Painfully slow, the child unfolded from their corner they’d found refude, never quiet looking up, head bowed.
Once tastefully elegant Travel robes for meeting the royal family not hung in black tatters. Gabreil drew his sword.
You majest?” the prist questioned. He understood the duties royalty sometimes had to take, but he would not remain to wistenss a childs murder. Yet, gabril could ot seal the wall again with the child alive inside. Best a quick death like the eldest got. No more suffering.
Gabriel paused though. Carefully, he lifted the robes up with the tip of his sword, bare stick this legs underneath. Higher. Higher.
“Father, you speak highly of the nunnery in the north. Good, God-fearing women”
“They are your majesty. For all their chatting, they are very good at keeping secrets. Can speak for days on end and never say a thing of importance.”
Gabriel withdre his sword. “I believe you have found on orphan on your travels. May the lord shone on their newest servant.”
He 2as going to be among the last to see the fCe of his new wife.
Mayfair was not the wealthiest coty staye, and wirh little natural resources, the kings and upper court did not aften pay him much mind. He paid his taxes to his betters and kept the peace. And they left him be.
Until King Lucifer sent word that his time of mourning was over and it was his suty to marry again. Unles if couse he had some heir squirrelwd away that hed firgotten to mention.
Lotd anthony james crowley had said nothing, and soon it was announced he was to wed the ypungest daughter of the late rival king to whose family King Lucifer was negotiating with.
Some poor bastard of a woman whod been drig out of some nunnery shed bwen shunned away to when her half brother Gabriel has assented to the throne. She stood in perfect deference Athe alter, layered in the traditional white and creams of her people. A jeavu viek overed her face, as he stood beside her in his own black suit, his right as a widower.
The good king Gabrial did nt even have the decency to witness the wedding, instead sending on of his person advisors, the lord sandlefond in his place. As the priest read over the marriage contrace to the collected group, arowley glanced out over he on lookers. None of the brides family was in attendance, and it looked like her side was a mix of noblels from bother their lands. His side had spilled over at some point o fill the empty seats, a macable collection of gawkers.
His own side was filled with mostly politically allais - families that wanted to come to make connectiosn - no real inteast in the wedding other than how it will effect their pockets. His own personal entourage was at least advisposrs and personal servants he trusted form his own estate.
His bride’s was… also…personal servants frm his own estate. He frowned at the made tracy as the maid of honour, briefly catching her eyes only fr the motherly woman to nodp pointely at the long winded speech wrapping up.
Even his house holdstaff has seen his bride before him.
*
The wedding had ben arranged in King Lucifer’s lesser cities - days travel for both parties, but large enough to be secure for a such an event, but nothing flashy enough to imply the wedding was of more importance than it was.
A tentative attempt to establish a peace treating - and, if suchseful in claming the two countries tempers witht he other, a possible start to trade treaties.
If the two of them didn’t kill the other one first.
Crowley had heard the roomers, and, judging by the deminour of his new wife te night before, so had sehe. While no wedding night was enjoyable for nobels - bewtwwen the stress, and the planning. And then the witnessing to consummation - from the moment he’d liftered her view she’d looked at him if frozen fear. She’d only eaten enough at the dinner to been seen as polite, and layed on their wedding bed like a dead fish.
Even now, sitting across the carriage from her, she spent her time studying her white knuckled grip on her own hands, seemingly afraid to breathe.
Like at any moment he’d find her unfit and beat her.
Corlwey had never raised a hand to his first wife that she hadn’t aske dhim to do, and nver outside their marriage bed. He’d never been sure if he loved her, but he’d certainly adored her, and fancied they could have been suite good friends. He’d certainty never strangled her to death for not giving him heirs, no matter what the whispers said. And certianyl not after only two years.
He’d spent longer a widorer than a married man, up until last night.
At least for his first wedding, neither one of them new what to expect, so it was first time jittereis for them both. And Astoroth as delighted in making their witnesses as uncomfortable as possibly, seting corlwey atease fot he rest of their lives together.
He toyed this the ring on his hands absentlymindledly.
He missed her terrible
Mayfair was not the wealthiest coty staye, and wirh little natural resources, the kings and upper court did not aften pay him much mind. He paid his taxes to his betters and kept the peace. And they left him be.
Until King Lucifer sent word that his time of mourning was over and it was his suty to marry again. Unles if couse he had some heir squirrelwd away that hed firgotten to mention.
Lotd anthony james crowley had said nothing, and soon it was announced he was to wed the ypungest daughter of the late rival king to whose family King Lucifer was negotiating with.
Some poor bastard of a woman whod been drig out of some nunnery shed bwen shunned away to when her half brother Gabriel has assented to the throne. She stood in perfect deference Athe alter, layered in the traditional white and creams of her people. A jeavu viek overed her face, as he stood beside her in his own black suit, his right as a widower.
The good king Gabrial did nt even have the decency to witness the wedding, instead sending on of his person advisors, the lord sandlefond in his place. As the priest read over the marriage contrace to the collected group, arowley glanced out over he on lookers. None of the brides family was in attendance, and it looked like her side was a mix of noblels from bother their lands. His side had spilled over at some point o fill the empty seats, a macable collection of gawkers.
His own side was filled with mostly politically allais - families that wanted to come to make connectiosn - no real inteast in the wedding other than how it will effect their pockets. His own personal entourage was at least advisposrs and personal servants he trusted form his own estate.
His bride’s was… also…personal servants frm his own estate. He frowned at the made tracy as the maid of honour, briefly catching her eyes only fr the motherly woman to nodp pointely at the long winded speech wrapping up.
Even his house holdstaff has seen his bride before him.
*
The wedding had ben arranged in King Lucifer’s lesser cities - days travel for both parties, but large enough to be secure for a such an event, but nothing flashy enough to imply the wedding was of more importance than it was.
A tentative attempt to establish a peace treating - and, if suchseful in claming the two countries tempers witht he other, a possible start to trade treaties.
If the two of them didn’t kill the other one first.
Crowley had heard the roomers, and, judging by the deminour of his new wife te night before, so had sehe. While no wedding night was enjoyable for nobels - bewtwwen the stress, and the planning. And then the witnessing to consummation - from the moment he’d liftered her view she’d looked at him if frozen fear. She’d only eaten enough at the dinner to been seen as polite, and layed on their wedding bed like a dead fish.
Even now, sitting across the carriage from her, she spent her time studying her white knuckled grip on her own hands, seemingly afraid to breathe.
Like at any moment he’d find her unfit and beat her.
Corlwey had never raised a hand to his first wife that she hadn’t aske dhim to do, and nver outside their marriage bed. He’d never been sure if he loved her, but he’d certainly adored her, and fancied they could have been suite good friends. He’d certainty never strangled her to death for not giving him heirs, no matter what the whispers said. And certianyl not after only two years.
He’d spent longer a widorer than a married man, up until last night.
At least for his first wedding, neither one of them new what to expect, so it was first time jittereis for them both. And Astoroth as delighted in making their witnesses as uncomfortable as possibly, seting corlwey atease fot he rest of their lives together.
He toyed this the ring on his hands absentlymindledly.
He missed her terrible
Anthoney did admit, abiet privatly, that the Lady Fell was quite lovely to look at. Sitting with the good Mme Tracey in the woman's parlor, she wore a modest dress of someone used to bussling around on foot in the crowded city, but it was no less elegant in the care that had been put into it. her blond curls where tight agsinst her head, leaivng little ringles to bounce at the nape of her neck. she had stormy blue eyes behind her trim reading glasses, and laugh lines etched across her smiling face.
absolutly lovely.
she also seemed comepltely at ease with Shadwell, which was a feat in in of itself, as the man was a crass and rude as a man could be while still claiming to be sober. she didn't bat an eye when he addressed them as harlets on his way though the room to help himself to Mme Tracey's tea, nor did eather woman give him a second glance as he did so. they did turn to him though, as Shadwell indrocuded him as, "this 'er's Crolwey. good man," on his way by.
they made the move to rise, but he waved them off, gestuting to one of the two empty chairs set up before Mme Tracey's card reading table, "May i?"
"Hello, Mr Crowly," Mme Tracy smiled as she gestured for him to join them, "May i inducude a dear friend of mine, Lady Zira Fell nee Messanger. She's in town on buisness."
"anyhtony J Crolwey," he nodded, taking his seat. if hed one so back home, there would be an outcry that he hadn't greated her properly, and he exepected at her home the same would have been true. instead, she smiled kindly at him, looking relieved. A lady tired of the pomp and circumstanse of their lives. Excpected, if she was shaking up with the Madamn.
"It's lovely to meet you Mr. Crowley."
he bit back a quip, opting to return her smile. "And what buisness would bring a Lady to the city without a chaperoen?"
"One that my brother has seen to bar me from for far to long, I'm afraid. He sold off the possetions of my late husband's without culsulting me, and i'm here to get them back."
Well, that was unexpected. But, it was making a bit more sense to why Shadwell had suggested he come along to meet the apperantly schemeing women. he loved a good scheme; "What kind of possestions are we re-procuring?"
"I want my books back. and.. ideally, i want our shop back, but that might involve more legal hoop jumping to mke sure they don't jsut give it to my brohter again like last time."
"no son's to sign it over too?" the smile on the womn's face tighteneed to an ugly thing, and he shut up immediatly.
thankfully Mme tracey smoothed it over with a, "just wasn't in the cards, i'm afraid," as she straightened out the table cloth in front of her. as a professin card reader, the phrase came practiced and smooth from her lips.
"just gotta get married again," shadwell interrupted from the kitchen doorway, sippin ghis drink, "pick a bloke you know won't rob you blind, and buy hte place of private pulsiper. him and that wife of his are sick of the city, you know he'll sell it to you in a heart beat."
"it's tue," MMe Tracey nodded along, "if he and Anenthema could afford two places, he'd give it to you at this point, and just keep his name on it to keep that family of yours from stepping in a seond time." she turned to Crowley, "He's already said she can have anything from the place, just as soon as she has somewhere to keep it. most of the stock never moved since Mr Fell passed on, God bless him, and Newton's only really sold enough to keep the lights one. The two of htem accidentanlied into the property in the first place; they didn't want to own a bookshop - they just needed a place to stay in the city."
"So we just gotta get you married to a pushover," anythony summerized, looking to the Lady Fell for confirmation.
"The Pulsipers have a cottage out in oxfordshire they want to purchase, they'd be willing to sell the shop for the cottage asking price, so... unfortuatly, i can't marry just any pushover." Lady Fell explained, looking uncomrotable with the idea in general.
"pushover with money. and ideal in good health and age, or else we're doing all this over agian in afew years," Shadwell added as he slumping in the empty chair. Mme Tracey gave him a fearce scowl, but it was true.
"A young man of good financial standing, but with a more open attitute to letting his wife form an oppion of her own." Mme tracy reitterated
/Good luck/ Crolwey thought with a groan, slumping back. the hairs on the back of his neck sood on end, and he looked up to realise that the three of them where looking at him intently.
"A good man, who is comfortable in his balchelrhood, perhaps. but would like his family to stop playing matchmaker?" Shadwell muttered into his tea as he pointedly took a sip. Mme Tacy also had a very knowing look on her face. worse. Worse was Lady Fell, who did not loo... happy with the idea, but painfully hopeful. A woman on the verge of making deserate, stupid desition in an attempt to regain her own person hood.
"wot.... me?"
absolutly lovely.
she also seemed comepltely at ease with Shadwell, which was a feat in in of itself, as the man was a crass and rude as a man could be while still claiming to be sober. she didn't bat an eye when he addressed them as harlets on his way though the room to help himself to Mme Tracey's tea, nor did eather woman give him a second glance as he did so. they did turn to him though, as Shadwell indrocuded him as, "this 'er's Crolwey. good man," on his way by.
they made the move to rise, but he waved them off, gestuting to one of the two empty chairs set up before Mme Tracey's card reading table, "May i?"
"Hello, Mr Crowly," Mme Tracy smiled as she gestured for him to join them, "May i inducude a dear friend of mine, Lady Zira Fell nee Messanger. She's in town on buisness."
"anyhtony J Crolwey," he nodded, taking his seat. if hed one so back home, there would be an outcry that he hadn't greated her properly, and he exepected at her home the same would have been true. instead, she smiled kindly at him, looking relieved. A lady tired of the pomp and circumstanse of their lives. Excpected, if she was shaking up with the Madamn.
"It's lovely to meet you Mr. Crowley."
he bit back a quip, opting to return her smile. "And what buisness would bring a Lady to the city without a chaperoen?"
"One that my brother has seen to bar me from for far to long, I'm afraid. He sold off the possetions of my late husband's without culsulting me, and i'm here to get them back."
Well, that was unexpected. But, it was making a bit more sense to why Shadwell had suggested he come along to meet the apperantly schemeing women. he loved a good scheme; "What kind of possestions are we re-procuring?"
"I want my books back. and.. ideally, i want our shop back, but that might involve more legal hoop jumping to mke sure they don't jsut give it to my brohter again like last time."
"no son's to sign it over too?" the smile on the womn's face tighteneed to an ugly thing, and he shut up immediatly.
thankfully Mme tracey smoothed it over with a, "just wasn't in the cards, i'm afraid," as she straightened out the table cloth in front of her. as a professin card reader, the phrase came practiced and smooth from her lips.
"just gotta get married again," shadwell interrupted from the kitchen doorway, sippin ghis drink, "pick a bloke you know won't rob you blind, and buy hte place of private pulsiper. him and that wife of his are sick of the city, you know he'll sell it to you in a heart beat."
"it's tue," MMe Tracey nodded along, "if he and Anenthema could afford two places, he'd give it to you at this point, and just keep his name on it to keep that family of yours from stepping in a seond time." she turned to Crowley, "He's already said she can have anything from the place, just as soon as she has somewhere to keep it. most of the stock never moved since Mr Fell passed on, God bless him, and Newton's only really sold enough to keep the lights one. The two of htem accidentanlied into the property in the first place; they didn't want to own a bookshop - they just needed a place to stay in the city."
"So we just gotta get you married to a pushover," anythony summerized, looking to the Lady Fell for confirmation.
"The Pulsipers have a cottage out in oxfordshire they want to purchase, they'd be willing to sell the shop for the cottage asking price, so... unfortuatly, i can't marry just any pushover." Lady Fell explained, looking uncomrotable with the idea in general.
"pushover with money. and ideal in good health and age, or else we're doing all this over agian in afew years," Shadwell added as he slumping in the empty chair. Mme Tracey gave him a fearce scowl, but it was true.
"A young man of good financial standing, but with a more open attitute to letting his wife form an oppion of her own." Mme tracy reitterated
/Good luck/ Crolwey thought with a groan, slumping back. the hairs on the back of his neck sood on end, and he looked up to realise that the three of them where looking at him intently.
"A good man, who is comfortable in his balchelrhood, perhaps. but would like his family to stop playing matchmaker?" Shadwell muttered into his tea as he pointedly took a sip. Mme Tacy also had a very knowing look on her face. worse. Worse was Lady Fell, who did not loo... happy with the idea, but painfully hopeful. A woman on the verge of making deserate, stupid desition in an attempt to regain her own person hood.
"wot.... me?"
He's the last son of the last son of the Duke Crawleigh. As such, a great tragidy would have to fall the Crawleigh name before Anthony James ever saw title or estate. So, unlike his oldest brothers and cousins, he had little responsabitly to the family name other than to keep it clean and keep the wheels of the family buisness turning where he could. He'd been educated, but then turned out on his own once it was certain he was essentialy usless to the family. they had more heirs nad spares then they knew what to do with, and it was a relief to all his elders when he showed no interest in playing politics. he knew his way around the estates inner workings, but had no interest in becoming involved further once he reached majority.
first chance he got, he was off to London to play bachelor. as a younger man there had been a few attempts at courting, but while his name might mean something, Anthony was too far down the list for most families to want to marry their daughters off too. He'd had his dalineces over the years - changing his surname slightly to Crowley to distance any scandels to his family, though he in gerneal was much better than some of his elder siblings in keeping himself out of upper circle gossip.
he was... well, he was starting to struggle though. there was pressure to settle down and marry already, and admittadly, Anthony could use some help with someone watching his ledger to keep him in his means. he didn't need a wife so much as a partner. which was becoming even more difficult as he aged. he wasn't old - but his oldest nephew was getting married already, and Anthony was finding it harder and harder to show his face at family functions without the expected plus one at his side.
even shadwell was courting someone... well.mayhaps he was being courted? the surley lonely had become a regualr at Anthony's side when he was out ont he town, the two cmisserating their bachlorhood together. but anthony had noticed the mystic harlet known as madamn Tracy had become a topic of many of Shadwells rants of late, and Anthony was ready to put mony on her having a soft spot for Anthiny's drinking partner. the question was hoe long it would take the man to notice.
Tonight mixed it up abit however, as apperatly the good Mme Tracy had a guest of her own taking up the woman's time, a Lady Fell, hwo Shadwell could decide it he loathed outright or was sypathetic to her cuase.
Apaertaly he'd known the Lady longer than Mme Tracy, and regretted ever introducing them, as she'd recently seemed to move in with the Mme after running her welcome at her brother's estate.
As a crawleigh, anthony had been to just about every estate worth mentioning at one point of his life or another, but he didn't remmber the name Fell.
"Nah," shawell waved his hand drunkenly, "Married into the Fell's - ran off and elopled if i 'memebr it right. was one of the Messangers 'for that. great big scandle, everyone was up in arms about it."
Ah, he did vagualy remmebr the Messangers. [Arch] Gabriel was the family head at this point if he remmebred right. he also remmerbed somethine of one of the daughters running off to get married behind the family's back when he was still young. maybe fifteen, twenety years ago now. His own brother had made a comment about her probably being in a family way, which is why the Messagner's had ended up jsut leaving it be.
"and she's staying with your Madamn why?"
shadwell reddened at the 'your' and took a drink to steady himself, "widowed. nasty illness took mister fell; he was a good man, ran the bookshop 'round the corner. used to give out hot tea in the winter. that was.. maybe ten years now? anyway, his family was gone, there never had any children, and the Messagner's sold the place right from under the poor woman. shame too becuase nobody's done well since then. i think that place is on it's sixth owner now? " shdwell barily paused for a drink, "good lad, private pulisper. i tlaked him and his lady into it, figured they'd have jsut as good a shot as anyone else. plus, the neighbors liked him better, mor elikely to try and keep in aflout, ka know."
Anthony didn't, but ne knodded just the same."Anyway, lass as it her wits end with her family, and just wlked out on dinner."
"And is now satying with the Madamn."
"Aye, and is now staying with the Madamn."
Well... talk about a cockblock. anthony wasn't sure who he felt sorry for the msot at the moment. he took a drink.
first chance he got, he was off to London to play bachelor. as a younger man there had been a few attempts at courting, but while his name might mean something, Anthony was too far down the list for most families to want to marry their daughters off too. He'd had his dalineces over the years - changing his surname slightly to Crowley to distance any scandels to his family, though he in gerneal was much better than some of his elder siblings in keeping himself out of upper circle gossip.
he was... well, he was starting to struggle though. there was pressure to settle down and marry already, and admittadly, Anthony could use some help with someone watching his ledger to keep him in his means. he didn't need a wife so much as a partner. which was becoming even more difficult as he aged. he wasn't old - but his oldest nephew was getting married already, and Anthony was finding it harder and harder to show his face at family functions without the expected plus one at his side.
even shadwell was courting someone... well.mayhaps he was being courted? the surley lonely had become a regualr at Anthony's side when he was out ont he town, the two cmisserating their bachlorhood together. but anthony had noticed the mystic harlet known as madamn Tracy had become a topic of many of Shadwells rants of late, and Anthony was ready to put mony on her having a soft spot for Anthiny's drinking partner. the question was hoe long it would take the man to notice.
Tonight mixed it up abit however, as apperatly the good Mme Tracy had a guest of her own taking up the woman's time, a Lady Fell, hwo Shadwell could decide it he loathed outright or was sypathetic to her cuase.
Apaertaly he'd known the Lady longer than Mme Tracy, and regretted ever introducing them, as she'd recently seemed to move in with the Mme after running her welcome at her brother's estate.
As a crawleigh, anthony had been to just about every estate worth mentioning at one point of his life or another, but he didn't remmber the name Fell.
"Nah," shawell waved his hand drunkenly, "Married into the Fell's - ran off and elopled if i 'memebr it right. was one of the Messangers 'for that. great big scandle, everyone was up in arms about it."
Ah, he did vagualy remmebr the Messangers. [Arch] Gabriel was the family head at this point if he remmebred right. he also remmerbed somethine of one of the daughters running off to get married behind the family's back when he was still young. maybe fifteen, twenety years ago now. His own brother had made a comment about her probably being in a family way, which is why the Messagner's had ended up jsut leaving it be.
"and she's staying with your Madamn why?"
shadwell reddened at the 'your' and took a drink to steady himself, "widowed. nasty illness took mister fell; he was a good man, ran the bookshop 'round the corner. used to give out hot tea in the winter. that was.. maybe ten years now? anyway, his family was gone, there never had any children, and the Messagner's sold the place right from under the poor woman. shame too becuase nobody's done well since then. i think that place is on it's sixth owner now? " shdwell barily paused for a drink, "good lad, private pulisper. i tlaked him and his lady into it, figured they'd have jsut as good a shot as anyone else. plus, the neighbors liked him better, mor elikely to try and keep in aflout, ka know."
Anthony didn't, but ne knodded just the same."Anyway, lass as it her wits end with her family, and just wlked out on dinner."
"And is now satying with the Madamn."
"Aye, and is now staying with the Madamn."
Well... talk about a cockblock. anthony wasn't sure who he felt sorry for the msot at the moment. he took a drink.
Gabriel mentions most of heaven ill have forgotten about Aziraphale until crow broke in, but will now be on high alert - implies someone (Gabriel) will be expected to check on Aziraphale soon) heave knows Crowley is there, but not where. If Crowley tries to take Aziraphale out of the cell, it will bring all of heaven down on them
Losts of soft holding and touching between Aziraphale and Crowley.
Gabriel maybe jealous.
Crowley seems the seal and is upset, breaking it.
Aziraphale cries
Crowley kisses the top of his head and holds him
They Agree to leave Aziraphale in Gabriel's care for now, find a better way to break him out
Crowley slinks into the cell to say goodbye. Gabriel remains in his office to give them a moment
“Do what ever Gabriel tells you”
“Be ready to answer as soon as I call”
Aziraphale comes to the entry to the cell but does not step out. He’s holding snake Crowley in his hands. Refuses to met Gabriel’s face; holding back tears.
Gabriel takes snake from him and, apologetically, reseals the cell
Gabriel makes a big show of capturing Crowley and ‘dragging’ him back down to earth.
He takes Crowley to the bookshop, leaving him on the snake tree that has been set up in the back office
Crowley stays as snake, and Gabriel confides that he’s not sure where things went so wrong.
Before he returns to heaven, Gabriel promises Crowley that he will be in touch soon, so to please trust him. He sill figure something out.
As he returns to heaven he is met by Micheal and Uriel and begins giving his ‘report’
A demonic explosion ripples though heaven
The offices, including Gabriel's are completely gone
Aziraphale’s prison is obliterated, demonic energy seeped into ever crack
Aziraphale has escaped by falling
Aziraphale lay a few feet away, a boneless sprawl where he'd been tossed aside by the rampaging Hastur. A Hastur that does not know that Crowley is in the room with them, coiled under the couch where Aziraphale had hidden him, angelic senses picking up on the demonic power house moments before Crowley had stirred from his nap.
Hastur, who wont hurt Aziraphale further until he has an audience. any other angel wouldn't not be as lucky, but again, any other angel would have heaven's backing where they to be attacked unprovided. regardless, Aziraphale is safe as long as Crowley odes not try to rescue him.
his demonic snaking mind is whirling in place of his body, desperately thinking up - and tossing aside - plans to get them both out with no more harming coming to pass. if Crowley thought for one second he could trade places he would of surrender himself at the start. but Hastur is too angry, and too cruel natured for such a thing. no doubt he has plans to torture Crowley physically, but right now the demon lord wants revenge for his friend, and knows too well than an eye for an eye in this case is Aziraphale.
Aziraphale, who played being taken off guard to hide the fact he'd already hidden Crowley out of sight, and had belt a horrific blow to the head for his quick thinking. a blow that would likely have killed a human, skull shattering under the impact. what broke Crowley's heart is that it was now the second time he'd had to witness such an attack, knowing the only thing that kept his friend in corporation for both is the fact he'd had some idea the attack was coming, and had subconsciously been prepared to start healing damage before it had even been rendered. Aziraphale had nearly given them away trying to reassure Crowley last time it had happen; he's not the chance this time. or maybe this time be was better prepared.
it didn't help Crowley one bit, desperately coiled away, unable to do more than watch. they'd be okay in the end - they had to be... he just had to figure out how to get Hastur to leave Aziraphale behind in the shop, without Hastur realizing he was inside the building already.
Hastur, who wont hurt Aziraphale further until he has an audience. any other angel wouldn't not be as lucky, but again, any other angel would have heaven's backing where they to be attacked unprovided. regardless, Aziraphale is safe as long as Crowley odes not try to rescue him.
his demonic snaking mind is whirling in place of his body, desperately thinking up - and tossing aside - plans to get them both out with no more harming coming to pass. if Crowley thought for one second he could trade places he would of surrender himself at the start. but Hastur is too angry, and too cruel natured for such a thing. no doubt he has plans to torture Crowley physically, but right now the demon lord wants revenge for his friend, and knows too well than an eye for an eye in this case is Aziraphale.
Aziraphale, who played being taken off guard to hide the fact he'd already hidden Crowley out of sight, and had belt a horrific blow to the head for his quick thinking. a blow that would likely have killed a human, skull shattering under the impact. what broke Crowley's heart is that it was now the second time he'd had to witness such an attack, knowing the only thing that kept his friend in corporation for both is the fact he'd had some idea the attack was coming, and had subconsciously been prepared to start healing damage before it had even been rendered. Aziraphale had nearly given them away trying to reassure Crowley last time it had happen; he's not the chance this time. or maybe this time be was better prepared.
it didn't help Crowley one bit, desperately coiled away, unable to do more than watch. they'd be okay in the end - they had to be... he just had to figure out how to get Hastur to leave Aziraphale behind in the shop, without Hastur realizing he was inside the building already.
somoen *thinks* they saw crowely, but whatever they saw was gone before anything was confirmed, and Heaven stood tence as every shadow was checked.
Gabreal return to his office, and once sure the area was snake free, openeed the Room to check on its occupant.
azi was gasping for air; gabriel carefully did not study the other as he glanced around the Room; careful to lot let his gaze linger on the thick welts crossing azi's back. a few had broken open, fresh blood spilling down ontot he plate. someone must have been here when the alarm had originally sounded. satifief there was no one int he Room now, gabril left, again not ooking back.
what would he have done, gab wondered as he stood in hsi office, door once again vanshing from it's sopt on his wall, if he had entered the Room wile it had been occulpied. what woud he have done, if an angel was still flogging the bound azirpahle when he's come to cchck fo ther serpant?
What indedd.
-
Crowley is caught instead of run off. Angels don’t think they can kill him, but threaten to discoperate him.c rowley counters by warning them that if the send him to hell, he will tell them how he got into heaven.
Angels mock, asking he things that will garner him favours
He admits it wont. But hell is harder to get out of than heaven is to get into. If he goes to hell, he’ll brpably never resuce azi; so he’ll bring hell to heaven in retaliation.
Gabriel will be told this at a briefing later. as Uriel agrees to remove the snake from Heaven, Gabriel is instead standing once again inside the Room
uprigfth clearly become to hard to maintain - az sluscing foward at the edge of his bindings, resting with his face pressed against he cold stone. it's the worse gab has heard the angels briething, lungs stuggling and failing to expand enough for a full break
the bones ridges of the human spine and ribs where beging to show though, no longer hidden under fat or muscle. beatings no longer left strips of thick sowllen flesh be instead the skin simply tore apart
he nearly left like he had each time before, stopped half cross the threshhold by a waek sob. gabril looked back; if azirpahle knew he'd made a noise, he shown no sign of it.
Gabril returned toe Room, moving to stand before azi for the first time since the door in his office was installed. azi trembled prefor him.
once, it would have made gab feel powerful. it should have at the least filled him with disdane.
"Do you wish to remain prosate before all of heaven?"
it was waek, wnd wet, but azi snorted, a garbled sound a dissent
unkindly, one hand fisting in azi's hair, the second rough on azi's shoulder, gab pulled azi bak upright
azi grunted what might have been a thanks, might have been a diragitory comment. eitherway, gabriel didn't care.
yet, he still couldn't hlp look back as he moved to close the door. azi sat on his heels, looked back over a shoulder at him. dull eyed, gaze tired. the browsing on his jaw and around him mouth a heavy contrast witht he gold red blood falling freely from his lips
-
Crowley is caught by quartermaster - wards did not alarm
Starvation looses bindings, azi able to lay fla on back hurts his arms and legs to do so but can breth easier
Leaves himself open to new ways to be ingured - ‘fresh canvas’
He offers gabril no comment as the archangel scoffs, and gabril offers him no help this time
Gabreal return to his office, and once sure the area was snake free, openeed the Room to check on its occupant.
azi was gasping for air; gabriel carefully did not study the other as he glanced around the Room; careful to lot let his gaze linger on the thick welts crossing azi's back. a few had broken open, fresh blood spilling down ontot he plate. someone must have been here when the alarm had originally sounded. satifief there was no one int he Room now, gabril left, again not ooking back.
what would he have done, gab wondered as he stood in hsi office, door once again vanshing from it's sopt on his wall, if he had entered the Room wile it had been occulpied. what woud he have done, if an angel was still flogging the bound azirpahle when he's come to cchck fo ther serpant?
What indedd.
-
Crowley is caught instead of run off. Angels don’t think they can kill him, but threaten to discoperate him.c rowley counters by warning them that if the send him to hell, he will tell them how he got into heaven.
Angels mock, asking he things that will garner him favours
He admits it wont. But hell is harder to get out of than heaven is to get into. If he goes to hell, he’ll brpably never resuce azi; so he’ll bring hell to heaven in retaliation.
Gabriel will be told this at a briefing later. as Uriel agrees to remove the snake from Heaven, Gabriel is instead standing once again inside the Room
uprigfth clearly become to hard to maintain - az sluscing foward at the edge of his bindings, resting with his face pressed against he cold stone. it's the worse gab has heard the angels briething, lungs stuggling and failing to expand enough for a full break
the bones ridges of the human spine and ribs where beging to show though, no longer hidden under fat or muscle. beatings no longer left strips of thick sowllen flesh be instead the skin simply tore apart
he nearly left like he had each time before, stopped half cross the threshhold by a waek sob. gabril looked back; if azirpahle knew he'd made a noise, he shown no sign of it.
Gabril returned toe Room, moving to stand before azi for the first time since the door in his office was installed. azi trembled prefor him.
once, it would have made gab feel powerful. it should have at the least filled him with disdane.
"Do you wish to remain prosate before all of heaven?"
it was waek, wnd wet, but azi snorted, a garbled sound a dissent
unkindly, one hand fisting in azi's hair, the second rough on azi's shoulder, gab pulled azi bak upright
azi grunted what might have been a thanks, might have been a diragitory comment. eitherway, gabriel didn't care.
yet, he still couldn't hlp look back as he moved to close the door. azi sat on his heels, looked back over a shoulder at him. dull eyed, gaze tired. the browsing on his jaw and around him mouth a heavy contrast witht he gold red blood falling freely from his lips
-
Crowley is caught by quartermaster - wards did not alarm
Starvation looses bindings, azi able to lay fla on back hurts his arms and legs to do so but can breth easier
Leaves himself open to new ways to be ingured - ‘fresh canvas’
He offers gabril no comment as the archangel scoffs, and gabril offers him no help this time
in the beginning was the word.
Crowley things sometimes, both their bosses forget that. For as much as they look down at human things - thinking themselves better. They too, where created with just a word.
Just a word, spoken before time began. One day, all of the celestial host existed, and functioned smoothly, like a well oiled machine. Crowley has no idea if there where prototypes before them; in the end, he suppose it doesn't matter, but he does wonder. and then some times he wonders if they where the prototypes to humans. god worked out al the bugs with them, and then cast them off to make the next thing. he knows that's what Lucifer felt. at least, that's what Lucifer wanted them all to think. Crowley's not sure anymore.
in his own, ethereal way of thinking, poor Aziraphale is the only one who gets it. He still has his faith, something Crowley caste away long ago. but Crowley's not sure his friend sees the almighty as its own entity. somewhere along the way - the system became the Almighty for him, the creater just the ceo at the top. and like many poor souls at the bottom, he still thinks the almighty has their - humans and lower angels alike - best interests at heart. he still thinks that if the almighty is mad aware of the injustices, they'll right it all worth a word.
because Aziraphale believes there word of god is law, and can create and unmake in the same breath. angels are no higher than humans, because both were spoken into existence, and both can be unmade just as easily. he was a witness to the Fall from heaven, just as he has witnessed the destruction of some many lives on earth.
to him - the flood was equal to the Fall. Crowley .. can't actually talk him out of that reasoning, and in his own dark way. he agrees. the why is different, but the vaule o angels and humans are equal. she tosses them aside just as easily as he was.
Crowley things sometimes, both their bosses forget that. For as much as they look down at human things - thinking themselves better. They too, where created with just a word.
Just a word, spoken before time began. One day, all of the celestial host existed, and functioned smoothly, like a well oiled machine. Crowley has no idea if there where prototypes before them; in the end, he suppose it doesn't matter, but he does wonder. and then some times he wonders if they where the prototypes to humans. god worked out al the bugs with them, and then cast them off to make the next thing. he knows that's what Lucifer felt. at least, that's what Lucifer wanted them all to think. Crowley's not sure anymore.
in his own, ethereal way of thinking, poor Aziraphale is the only one who gets it. He still has his faith, something Crowley caste away long ago. but Crowley's not sure his friend sees the almighty as its own entity. somewhere along the way - the system became the Almighty for him, the creater just the ceo at the top. and like many poor souls at the bottom, he still thinks the almighty has their - humans and lower angels alike - best interests at heart. he still thinks that if the almighty is mad aware of the injustices, they'll right it all worth a word.
because Aziraphale believes there word of god is law, and can create and unmake in the same breath. angels are no higher than humans, because both were spoken into existence, and both can be unmade just as easily. he was a witness to the Fall from heaven, just as he has witnessed the destruction of some many lives on earth.
to him - the flood was equal to the Fall. Crowley .. can't actually talk him out of that reasoning, and in his own dark way. he agrees. the why is different, but the vaule o angels and humans are equal. she tosses them aside just as easily as he was.
the kaiji went and changed the rules again. Two showed up, and crolwey glanced at gabriel, pale and worried. The man remain composed, but colrwy could see it in his eyes - he was terrified. He was stull doing PT - the igure healed but he didn't have strangth back. not compeltely.
after olrwy had confronted him on the Priciplaies, Gabreil had told him he'd nevr get to fly again. but now.... so many lives at stake. "go"
corlwey nodded once, turning to flee, gabrils parting words lsot to the room, "please be careful..."
Azirpahel was already siuted when he arrived, looking pleased and relieved to see corlwey, but having no time for wrods. the battle awaited.
it would be different this time - now that corlwey knew, he struggled to keep focues ont he fight, thoguhts straying to instead worry over how much of his friend's personality he was just bulldozing over.
"Crolwey, battle first, worry later"
azirpales voice cut though him like a blade, startleing him back to the task at hand, "I know" the angel said, befrec rolwey could voice an appology, "We'll figure it out later."
later. assuming they survive this. if it hadn't been the successful runs he'd already had int he Host's suit, corlwey was pretty sure they would have tried to blame him forhte accumpliating damage - and maybe they where right. but two kiji was mor ethen they'd prept for, and al the suits where strugging to keep what gorund had been gained. Metatron and sandlephon where swearing up an ungodly storm ont he Host private channels, which stiffled chuckles at tehem loosing preform, but scared him to the bone. they might not be okay this time.
Azripale was working on keeping them from being blindsided while corlwey worked on battering the one they and /E&E/ had cornered from te other fight. the borblem was ths one seemed to be but mass and no amout of otherwise devistating blows to it seemed to shake it for long.
"Azirpale, i need ypou to start hacking."
his co-pilot - becuase that's what he was, damnit! - loked at him queerly, before crowley's own head cuaght up to his mouth, and the idea formed between them. the /beacuracy/ had a blade - but gabriel was not as porficiant as micheal, so it had remained mostly unsued since she'd been called away. and crowley's skill lay in a longer staff. but azzirpale.. well - crolwey could wantch that man spin blade all day -
said main caughted and corwley brought himself back tot he battle, trying to igure the hot blush on his face. maybe don't think sexy thoughts about your co-poloit while the two of you where mentailly linked.
it slid them into the kind of piloting that corlwey was told about - te kind he'd been practicign, but never found. two as one. not the symbiotic existance that the Priciplity program had sucsedded so well at - but teo drift combaitable. there was no nudge to move or a presisng on his mind to dodge. but in insticnt and a pull to move in rythem with azripal,veven though he'd no idea of the steps. it was like that didn't matter, becauase muscle memory kicked in - even it it wasn't his muscles or his memeory. he wasn'ta puppet on a sting, he wasn't int he back seat watching it unfold. but there, smooth as a river, and theyw here cutting into the kaji with a grace crowley could only dream about./ E&E/ stepped back once it was clear /buiacracy/ had a plan, and mostly kept the kaiji from finding it's bearing to firgure out a new plan.
his heart beat steady and sure though outthe whole dance, breath calm and measured. for a breft moemnt, he wasn't a lanky [bastard] who flexabily suggested a slinky for a spine and hips that never did fgire out how the normal man was supposted to walk. he was a solid powerhouse - a brick with a personaity - whose weight just ment each blow fell harder and faster than the last. for a moment, the earth tremmbled and bowed before him, and then it was quiet.
the other group had dispacted theirs shortly after, and the comms willed with cheers and celbration. no suit would go back today undamaged. but ever suit would make it back.
after olrwy had confronted him on the Priciplaies, Gabreil had told him he'd nevr get to fly again. but now.... so many lives at stake. "go"
corlwey nodded once, turning to flee, gabrils parting words lsot to the room, "please be careful..."
Azirpahel was already siuted when he arrived, looking pleased and relieved to see corlwey, but having no time for wrods. the battle awaited.
it would be different this time - now that corlwey knew, he struggled to keep focues ont he fight, thoguhts straying to instead worry over how much of his friend's personality he was just bulldozing over.
"Crolwey, battle first, worry later"
azirpales voice cut though him like a blade, startleing him back to the task at hand, "I know" the angel said, befrec rolwey could voice an appology, "We'll figure it out later."
later. assuming they survive this. if it hadn't been the successful runs he'd already had int he Host's suit, corlwey was pretty sure they would have tried to blame him forhte accumpliating damage - and maybe they where right. but two kiji was mor ethen they'd prept for, and al the suits where strugging to keep what gorund had been gained. Metatron and sandlephon where swearing up an ungodly storm ont he Host private channels, which stiffled chuckles at tehem loosing preform, but scared him to the bone. they might not be okay this time.
Azripale was working on keeping them from being blindsided while corlwey worked on battering the one they and /E&E/ had cornered from te other fight. the borblem was ths one seemed to be but mass and no amout of otherwise devistating blows to it seemed to shake it for long.
"Azirpale, i need ypou to start hacking."
his co-pilot - becuase that's what he was, damnit! - loked at him queerly, before crowley's own head cuaght up to his mouth, and the idea formed between them. the /beacuracy/ had a blade - but gabriel was not as porficiant as micheal, so it had remained mostly unsued since she'd been called away. and crowley's skill lay in a longer staff. but azzirpale.. well - crolwey could wantch that man spin blade all day -
said main caughted and corwley brought himself back tot he battle, trying to igure the hot blush on his face. maybe don't think sexy thoughts about your co-poloit while the two of you where mentailly linked.
it slid them into the kind of piloting that corlwey was told about - te kind he'd been practicign, but never found. two as one. not the symbiotic existance that the Priciplity program had sucsedded so well at - but teo drift combaitable. there was no nudge to move or a presisng on his mind to dodge. but in insticnt and a pull to move in rythem with azripal,veven though he'd no idea of the steps. it was like that didn't matter, becauase muscle memory kicked in - even it it wasn't his muscles or his memeory. he wasn'ta puppet on a sting, he wasn't int he back seat watching it unfold. but there, smooth as a river, and theyw here cutting into the kaji with a grace crowley could only dream about./ E&E/ stepped back once it was clear /buiacracy/ had a plan, and mostly kept the kaiji from finding it's bearing to firgure out a new plan.
his heart beat steady and sure though outthe whole dance, breath calm and measured. for a breft moemnt, he wasn't a lanky [bastard] who flexabily suggested a slinky for a spine and hips that never did fgire out how the normal man was supposted to walk. he was a solid powerhouse - a brick with a personaity - whose weight just ment each blow fell harder and faster than the last. for a moment, the earth tremmbled and bowed before him, and then it was quiet.
the other group had dispacted theirs shortly after, and the comms willed with cheers and celbration. no suit would go back today undamaged. but ever suit would make it back.
he's… well, he's dehydrated and his head hurts little bit, but he's also so comfortable right now that if he just closes his eyes again….
There are more limbs in the bed then there should be… and.. And this isn't his bed….
He's aware his legs aren’t tangled in the blankets so much as someone else's legs. and he's got one of his own hands tucked up under his chin while.. yeah, there is definitely someone else's wrist resting on his hip - and the fingers of his other hand are locked in with theirs. now that he'd looking for it - there's a huff of warmth at his back, and if he shifts just an inch, the solid wight of someone's forehead is resting against his spine.
there's a light panic - because he can't remember how he got here and he's not sure what happen. he has hops on whose behind him - but not facts, and it's a Schrodinger situation as his heart hammers in his throat.
An initial checklist at least confirms he's not completely naked - he still has underwear one, so there's that. except...
well - sometimes he can't get his pants on with underwear too so he's been going without.
with his free hand, he peaks under the sheet. clean traditional cut tidy-whities. defiantly not his style. and... and they're baby blue.
well - now he knows whose behind him. at least he hopes. because if he's wearing Aziraphale's underwear, yet still went to bed with someone else, he's never drinking again. and a glance over his shoulder confirms the white cloud fluff behind him. god - he hopes they didn't fuck. he will never forgive himself if he was too blackout drunk to remember their first time.
"thinking too hard, dear" comes a sleep heavy voice, and Crowley smiles as the fluffy wiggles closer to his back. regretfully, he slides away - but it because he wants to have this conversation face to face. once he'd rolled over though, Aziraphale closes the gap and drifts back to sleep with his check pressed against Crowley's sternum.
"do i want to know what happen lat night?" he asked finally after they'd basked in each others arms for a moment. Crowley studied the way the light of Aziraphale's room bounced of his chipped fingernail polish, his hand still holding Aziraphale's. turned their grasp over to admire Aziraphale's own well manicured nails. not a chip in sight. bastard.
Aziraphale, sensing that this wasn't going away anytime soon, steatched out, laying out straight and eye level with Crowley.
"well - at some point, we finally got over ourselves at finally admitted that we've both loved the other for a very very long time."
oh lord - how much had they drunk? his face much have been something else, because Aziraphale laughed, trying to smother the sound by ducking down and burrying it in Crowley 's neck. once he'd calmed down, he straightened once again. "- and then we decided that we very much wanted to fuck>"
hearing Aziraphale say fuck was almost harder to imagine than actually hooking up wiht him, and Crowley 's jaw dropped. "you were so excited about the idea you ran up all the stairs. and then promptly threw up at the top.
okay.a. that did sound like his luck, "so we didn't?"
"kinda of a mood ruiner, yeah. not that you didn't want to press on, but you were having some issues keeping your head up - and i'm pretty sure neither one of us would of actually enjoyed it if we;d managed to to do the deed int he first place." he had that amused but sorry look on his face, "and i wasn't much better. not sure i could of even gotten it up if i wanted too. attempts where made - you where very instant on that."
of god!! he was mortified, looking down the excspance of the bared Aziraphale before him - hickies everywhere, especially his thighs. he was wearing underwear though - matching the pair Crowley was wearing..." so.... where did the underwear come from?"
"Do.. do you really want to know?"
did he really want to know? "i think my imagination will be worse."
"I'm... not so sure about that," Aziraphale admitted, but it was a fond look at least. after Crowley indicated for him to spill, "well, after it was clear we should probably sleep it off and try again when we'd sobered up, you tried to get dressed. but you couldn't figure out how to get back into that jeans of yours... so you stole my underwear." he looked pined, "I really did try to get you to at least put on a clean pair, but you were very instant. and then you tried to get me to wear your jeans, which.. was never going to happen, for so many reasons."
Crowley groaned, trying to smother himself with Aziraphale pillow. "I'm wearing... your dirty underwear...."
"There.... it's not.. not dirty so much as... unwashed."
how mortifying.
though, now he was trying to picture Aziraphale in skin-tight jeans, he looked up form the pillow. "What wrong with my jeans? if i can wear your dirty -"
"-unwashed!!'
"-unwashed underwear, why wont you wear my jeans?!"
Aziraphale gave him an amazed look. "darling, those jeans are already at least two sizes to small for you - i couldn't even get them past my calf."
oh... oh!!! and he couldn't even remember the act to wank to later! "you.. your tried?"
the blush was answer enough.
"i bet my shirt would fit."
They stood in silence for too long that night, still sitting in what had become their normal seats across from each other, but now….
Crowley was too angry for words. The Host had mad it clear they really didn't care about Crowley's feeling on the matter, and if he didn't like it there where plenty of other bases to transfer him too. again.
and he knew they'd do it if he raises a stink. the other pilots at the station knew something had happen, but as far as they could tell his flight had gone well, so they didn't understand.
no body understood. hell, even Aziraphale didn't understand. and Crowley knew that if he tried to explain it - tried to expose this dark side tot eh golden boys he'd not only be out on his ass, but Aziraphale would be left here alone once again.
and that was the rub - either way, the Host was still going to keep abusing pilots like Aziraphale. Crowley couldn't topple their system - their system got results. that's all people cared about in the end. so he could make a fuse and get kicked out, leaving Aziraphale behind. or he could keep his mouth shut and be with his friend.
as long as Gabriel was still down for the count - abuse his friend.
he threw his fork down in disgust; Aziraphale had mostly been poking his own meal at this point, the mood in the room having killed his appetite. the clatter of table ware startled him into dropping his own utensil and looked at Crowley worried. warily. afraid.
"I need some air." Crowley grumbled finally. he stood up abruptly, but thought about it for a moment before he stormed away. "you wanna go for a walk?"
he barely waited for Aziraphale's timid, 'sure' before he was marching off, the Host pilot falling in step behind him. they said nothing for a while, Aziraphale just a quite shadow as Crowley tried to walk his nerves back to conversation levels.
by the time they got out into the courtyards, Crowley had come to the term that he wasn't going to be calm enough to talk. but... "Explain it to me Aziraphale. explain how you can justify what happened out there?"
Because Aziraphale wasn't a wallflower. he wasn't... he wasn't someone how let people walk over him. Except he had in that suit he as just gone, and now Crowley could see that it was the same way outside the suit when he was around the rest of the Host pilots.
"are... are you familiar with the Principality Program?"
Crowley shook his head in the negative, slowing his pacing to force Aziraphale to walk beside him. "We.. i mean.. well, every one wants to be a Jaeger pilot, you know. a big giant robot fighting monsters. every child's dream come true. but.. there where a lot of problems in the early models."
Crowley nodded. a lot of pilots died before they figured out how to split the suit functions between two brains. the human system just couldn't handle it.
"Well, the Principalities where the pilots who... could.. manage the suit. on their own. n... non combat situations." Aziraphale stated, like he'd been following Crowley's line of thought. except know that thought train had jumped tracks, and Crowley stopped completely. complete and utterly confused.
Looking as if he expected this, Aziraphale gave him a look that told him he ought to have known better - "surely you had to have given that some thought before; how the suit moves around for maintenance or repairs, or simply from one hanger to the other. it's much easier to just pilot it here than try to manipulate it externally. so as a Principality, we have a much more... innate knowledge of the suits structure than typical pilots. we work with the maintenance and the engineers or the small details. but - we're not like Commander Pentecost or anything, we can't pilot solo in combat more than any other Jaeger pilot. we might have the internal handled, but there's just too much external stimulus."
"But you where in that fight with me - you knew..." he trialed off, Aziraphale face pinched.
"Precipitates help shoulder the burden of the suit, yes. but.. we're not that good at the main controls. it's more. we let our pilots do the actual fighting, and we watch their back. we keep the suit running at optimal effectaincy with out link to what the pilot is planning, but other wise.." he shrugged, "we're their to keep you safe. physically and mentally. we shoulder the mental burden, and then we focus on the things you don't have the ability to watch - we're the eyes int he back of your head"
"that... that's not how piloting is supposed to work."
"It does seem like the others have a different approach, sure. but the Host's have never had an in combate fatality. I'm not sure we've ever even had an injury before. at least.. while linked. I can't do anything about anyone sense of balance once they unhook from the system."
there was something... so blase about that statement that Crowley had to stop and study his face. "How... how did Gabriel get hurt again?"
"He tripped.. on some loose wiring when he was getting out of the suit after a warm-up test."
Yeah - there was something there. Crowley stepped in close, and whispered - aware that the walls had ears -"did you trip your co-pilot?"
"I would of course told him to watch his step, but he'd already disengaged by then...."
"Why?"
here Aziraphale licked his lips, uncertain.
"Aziraphale?"
"I was.. hoping, since Micheal wouldn't be back before the kijui showed up.. that they'd have to pull a freelance pilot in from the station. it would look bad - the host leaving a perfectly usable suit behind while civilians where under attack."
Crowley looked at him dumbfounded. "you.. why... what if ... any freelance pilot?"
"well, there would really only be one choice - i've barely been given the chance to say two words to anyone else."
"you.. maimed your coworker so we could fly together?"
"I.. i wouldn't say maimed, he'll be just fine!" Aziraphale took a breath, that horrible nervous look stealing away across his features, "Too much?"
Crowley couldn't help but laugh, and he drew the anxious man into a hug, "you mad bastard!"
the whole damn thing is one big clusterfuck.
No one ever expected the Hosts to be down two pilots - leaving their one man out and a semi working suit. Micheal had been called away off site and gabreil had managed to break his arm trying god knows what.
the repairs to the suit where on azirpahles side, and he was confident that he could wrok aorund and shorts. the Beauacracy jsut needed someone to help him do that. the brothers of the E&E where loath to have an outsider in the suit - but needs must. adn crolwey got to be that lucky pilot seeing as he'd been the only one to really make any kind of azirpahle so far.
no body liked it.
crowley was actually expecting to like it - he did like azirpahle. the man was funny, but just mean enough that no one ever expected it from him. he was a riot. crolwey wasn't sure he liked the fact that he was going to essentially be piloting a malfuntioning half of a suit - but corlwey didn't know hte suit at all, so he really could not complain.
being thrown into battle was not the idea time to see if you where actually drfit compatable with someone, but there wasn't any better choises. corlwey shouldn't have been worried. he was about to discover the big dark secret of the Host pilots, and he would loath ever moment of it.
he and azirpahle where drift compatable. well... in the very loosest sence. one connected, all the two way feedback crolwey was tolt to expect - all the feedback he'd gotten on other attempts. non of it was their. just his own thoughts, and the suit. he was worried that they'd failed comepletely, but the suit moved with ease as corlwey instructed it.
it was... it was like he was solo piloting. not that he'd ever done that - but he immaged this was what it was like. and maybe it had failed and he was solo going - but they where under attack, and he'd rather die trying to stop it that die watching it happen, so he marched into battle.
the first clue tht he wasn't soloing was a nudge, like a sixth sence to dodge, and when he did, the errant blast form on of the other pilots cut thoughwhere he'd been. the radio cracked to life with apogies,a nd he sniped back and kept fighting.
it must be azirpahel - he figured out finally, and he followed a usggestion to strick,a nd he mad connection with the kaiji, sendong it stumbling back into a blow from one of hte other jagears. the other pilot was there, but he was almost comeplty silanced by crolwey. reduced to s asubconsious co-pilot.
a mind that could be comepltely swamped to essentially give the other pilot comeplree control. no teamwork nessisary. like an on board computer ready give suggetions, but no ability to manevous itself.
this wasn't a drift. this was a subjication. and he'd worry about the moraility of it later.
and worry he did. onec htey got back to base - the other three host poilots where already ready for them to dismbark. the all looked so solemn. corlwye wondered if they planned to dump his body somewhere to keep him from making a fuss. crolwey had turned to watch azripahle when they returned - the man mirroring his movements on automation, once wonderoudsly expressive face comepletely blank. like death.
even as he stepped out of the harness, azripahle said nothing. his head remained bowed down, gaze stubbronly othe floor and gabril stepped between them. croalwy wasnted to puthi sother arm in a cast. gabreil spoke in a low voice to his man, as metatron gestured for corwey to follow him. he went, but he did not shcool his face, letting the team leader know exactly how mush he disapproved.
No one ever expected the Hosts to be down two pilots - leaving their one man out and a semi working suit. Micheal had been called away off site and gabreil had managed to break his arm trying god knows what.
the repairs to the suit where on azirpahles side, and he was confident that he could wrok aorund and shorts. the Beauacracy jsut needed someone to help him do that. the brothers of the E&E where loath to have an outsider in the suit - but needs must. adn crolwey got to be that lucky pilot seeing as he'd been the only one to really make any kind of azirpahle so far.
no body liked it.
crowley was actually expecting to like it - he did like azirpahle. the man was funny, but just mean enough that no one ever expected it from him. he was a riot. crolwey wasn't sure he liked the fact that he was going to essentially be piloting a malfuntioning half of a suit - but corlwey didn't know hte suit at all, so he really could not complain.
being thrown into battle was not the idea time to see if you where actually drfit compatable with someone, but there wasn't any better choises. corlwey shouldn't have been worried. he was about to discover the big dark secret of the Host pilots, and he would loath ever moment of it.
he and azirpahle where drift compatable. well... in the very loosest sence. one connected, all the two way feedback crolwey was tolt to expect - all the feedback he'd gotten on other attempts. non of it was their. just his own thoughts, and the suit. he was worried that they'd failed comepletely, but the suit moved with ease as corlwey instructed it.
it was... it was like he was solo piloting. not that he'd ever done that - but he immaged this was what it was like. and maybe it had failed and he was solo going - but they where under attack, and he'd rather die trying to stop it that die watching it happen, so he marched into battle.
the first clue tht he wasn't soloing was a nudge, like a sixth sence to dodge, and when he did, the errant blast form on of the other pilots cut thoughwhere he'd been. the radio cracked to life with apogies,a nd he sniped back and kept fighting.
it must be azirpahel - he figured out finally, and he followed a usggestion to strick,a nd he mad connection with the kaiji, sendong it stumbling back into a blow from one of hte other jagears. the other pilot was there, but he was almost comeplty silanced by crolwey. reduced to s asubconsious co-pilot.
a mind that could be comepltely swamped to essentially give the other pilot comeplree control. no teamwork nessisary. like an on board computer ready give suggetions, but no ability to manevous itself.
this wasn't a drift. this was a subjication. and he'd worry about the moraility of it later.
and worry he did. onec htey got back to base - the other three host poilots where already ready for them to dismbark. the all looked so solemn. corlwye wondered if they planned to dump his body somewhere to keep him from making a fuss. crolwey had turned to watch azripahle when they returned - the man mirroring his movements on automation, once wonderoudsly expressive face comepletely blank. like death.
even as he stepped out of the harness, azripahle said nothing. his head remained bowed down, gaze stubbronly othe floor and gabril stepped between them. croalwy wasnted to puthi sother arm in a cast. gabreil spoke in a low voice to his man, as metatron gestured for corwey to follow him. he went, but he did not shcool his face, letting the team leader know exactly how mush he disapproved.
the cruel part of him saw why they laughed - azirphale looked so uncormfortable on the mat. He'd clearly had to borrow someone'd gi - it was a bit too snug around the middle, to tight in the shoulders, to long int he legs. Immedtiatly, crolwey knew this was a bad idea. what's worse, he didn't know if this was a munishment for him or his opponantly. his teammates watched on with open malice in their faces.
crowley wanted to cal the whole thing off. which - might be worse.
azirpahle had no idea how to hold the staff, alternating between too low or too high. but what was frustrating is crolwey could see by his grip that he wasn't unskilled. he clearly knew how to handle some form of weaspon. his movements - while awtrful for the staff, clearly indicated a training somwhere.
and maybe the standard was staff - and it was crlwey's best weapon too - but te strugging angel across from him has a complete novice.
"Have you ever held a staff before?" he blurted, not meaning to sound as unkind as it came out, and the man winced, head bowed. showing differnace to corlwey - deafeated already.
what was worse was the laughter.... from his own team. he was suppostable drift compatable with all four of them - and yet....
something was rotten in eaden.
crowley has ready to walk away, not wanting this humiliation do go on, when sadnelphon opened his mouth, "look at him - it's like a dumbpling on a stick."
Azirpahle just looked missarable. the other pilots in the room alternated between snickering and looking uneasy. but the Host ran this station, and to call them out was carrer suiside. corlwey studdied his oppantnet for amoment, beofe a spark on insteration hit him.
he took his own staff in hand, studing it for amoment, before turning to swing it with all his might at a support beam. the room was quicet minis the lingering snap from the wood. he could feel the dumbfounded lookde fromt he gathereed group as he inspected the broken edge. it was a fairly clean break between the leather grips, and he jab the splintered edge ont he metal ground to knock loose hte splinters and dull the jagged edges. it wasn't as clean down the middle as he'd of licked, but it was uncomprimed at the grib. he flipped it around, leather wrapping to his opponent.
"Wanna trade?"
he knew he'd mad the right call when instead of being offeneded, the poor bastard looked calm. he took the broken piece, hadning his full staff to crolwey and studdied the piece. when he took his possition this time, he held himself upright, sturdy, standing in profile to corlwey with a two handed grip at the base.
this was the sparring corlwey was looking for - two mismatched weapons, two comepltely different styles, and both comepleltey at ease. well - almost at ese. colwey could tell the poorly fit uniform was holding Azripahle back - but it wasn't neough to give crolwey the andvantage. they matched each other blow to blow, neither gaining ground. azirpahle fought with someone intimate with a short blade, a pure extention of themselves, without the flashy work corlwey was used to seeing.
the quiet that had fallen had grown to cheering now - all save for the other Host pilots - each being encrouaged equally byt he group. it was the most fun corlwey had ever had ont he mat, and he could see that shy smile on azirpahle face - and he knew it was the same. it led him to being more play ful with his hits, and azirpahle chased beatufully, evolving into less of a spar and more of a true dance. but crolwey had one more trick up his sleeve. it was a massive risk - it could back fire horribly.
but... but the gi was horrible, and limiting, and he could tell azirpahle lacked the range of motion to really show what his sill set was. so crowley struck - so very carefully. Azirpahel stepped aside to avoid the blow, but that's not what crowley was attempting to do, and the staff passed easy betwen the layers of the gi, tangling in the borrowd uniform, and hitting the strainged seams head on. the threads gave way, and crowley's staff was now runing thouhg the garmet.
the fight paused, the group chuckling as azirpahle one handed inspeced the now trapped staff, looking bewindered at whatthat was supposted to be. the gi was compramised - and more twisteing would continie to break the seam s- it might even damage the fabric itself. it seemed to him like the match was over now.
someone in the onlookers whicteled, another yelled [servatiosly] 'take it off!' corlwey just shrugged, and smiled. Azirpahle moved to untie to belt - only intending to loosen the uniform eough to remove the staff - assuming the event was over. instead, as soon as he did, there was enoughter wolf-whicstle, and someone commented, asking who had the singles?
crowley was watching him carefully, and when azirpahle turned to look at him impourously, he shrugged again, motioning for his own belt. "I'll drop mine too " he panted, grinning, "wanna keep going?"
he could feel gabreils eyes boring into his skull. the Host believed themselves above such displayes, and he knew quite well what they thought of him, and his physic. they wouldn't appprove.
but... but this was hte mst alive he'd felt in.. in years. he wasn't ready to wrap it up nad go back to being shoved along wher ever his co-pilot needed him that day; often hidden in some back room out of sight and alone.he wasn't smart like the real Host pilots - he knew his place. but.. but jsut for this little bot....
he nodded to crolwey, and took of the borrowed gi. he could /hear/ sandelphons snear from across the room - but colryw didn't bat an eye. even the other pilots - they get right on carring on. the fact that he wasn't fit and scupleted like them didn't seem to matter at all at the moemnt. corlwey took of his own gi - looking much more like the extpected build of a pilot - if perhaps to lanky, and azripahle handed him back the staff that had been cuahgt in his uniferom before both tops where tossed aside. pickign up him imporomptly made 'sword', azripahel fell back into possition.
crowley wanted to cal the whole thing off. which - might be worse.
azirpahle had no idea how to hold the staff, alternating between too low or too high. but what was frustrating is crolwey could see by his grip that he wasn't unskilled. he clearly knew how to handle some form of weaspon. his movements - while awtrful for the staff, clearly indicated a training somwhere.
and maybe the standard was staff - and it was crlwey's best weapon too - but te strugging angel across from him has a complete novice.
"Have you ever held a staff before?" he blurted, not meaning to sound as unkind as it came out, and the man winced, head bowed. showing differnace to corlwey - deafeated already.
what was worse was the laughter.... from his own team. he was suppostable drift compatable with all four of them - and yet....
something was rotten in eaden.
crowley has ready to walk away, not wanting this humiliation do go on, when sadnelphon opened his mouth, "look at him - it's like a dumbpling on a stick."
Azirpahle just looked missarable. the other pilots in the room alternated between snickering and looking uneasy. but the Host ran this station, and to call them out was carrer suiside. corlwey studdied his oppantnet for amoment, beofe a spark on insteration hit him.
he took his own staff in hand, studing it for amoment, before turning to swing it with all his might at a support beam. the room was quicet minis the lingering snap from the wood. he could feel the dumbfounded lookde fromt he gathereed group as he inspected the broken edge. it was a fairly clean break between the leather grips, and he jab the splintered edge ont he metal ground to knock loose hte splinters and dull the jagged edges. it wasn't as clean down the middle as he'd of licked, but it was uncomprimed at the grib. he flipped it around, leather wrapping to his opponent.
"Wanna trade?"
he knew he'd mad the right call when instead of being offeneded, the poor bastard looked calm. he took the broken piece, hadning his full staff to crolwey and studdied the piece. when he took his possition this time, he held himself upright, sturdy, standing in profile to corlwey with a two handed grip at the base.
this was the sparring corlwey was looking for - two mismatched weapons, two comepltely different styles, and both comepleltey at ease. well - almost at ese. colwey could tell the poorly fit uniform was holding Azripahle back - but it wasn't neough to give crolwey the andvantage. they matched each other blow to blow, neither gaining ground. azirpahle fought with someone intimate with a short blade, a pure extention of themselves, without the flashy work corlwey was used to seeing.
the quiet that had fallen had grown to cheering now - all save for the other Host pilots - each being encrouaged equally byt he group. it was the most fun corlwey had ever had ont he mat, and he could see that shy smile on azirpahle face - and he knew it was the same. it led him to being more play ful with his hits, and azirpahle chased beatufully, evolving into less of a spar and more of a true dance. but crolwey had one more trick up his sleeve. it was a massive risk - it could back fire horribly.
but... but the gi was horrible, and limiting, and he could tell azirpahle lacked the range of motion to really show what his sill set was. so crowley struck - so very carefully. Azirpahel stepped aside to avoid the blow, but that's not what crowley was attempting to do, and the staff passed easy betwen the layers of the gi, tangling in the borrowd uniform, and hitting the strainged seams head on. the threads gave way, and crowley's staff was now runing thouhg the garmet.
the fight paused, the group chuckling as azirpahle one handed inspeced the now trapped staff, looking bewindered at whatthat was supposted to be. the gi was compramised - and more twisteing would continie to break the seam s- it might even damage the fabric itself. it seemed to him like the match was over now.
someone in the onlookers whicteled, another yelled [servatiosly] 'take it off!' corlwey just shrugged, and smiled. Azirpahle moved to untie to belt - only intending to loosen the uniform eough to remove the staff - assuming the event was over. instead, as soon as he did, there was enoughter wolf-whicstle, and someone commented, asking who had the singles?
crowley was watching him carefully, and when azirpahle turned to look at him impourously, he shrugged again, motioning for his own belt. "I'll drop mine too " he panted, grinning, "wanna keep going?"
he could feel gabreils eyes boring into his skull. the Host believed themselves above such displayes, and he knew quite well what they thought of him, and his physic. they wouldn't appprove.
but... but this was hte mst alive he'd felt in.. in years. he wasn't ready to wrap it up nad go back to being shoved along wher ever his co-pilot needed him that day; often hidden in some back room out of sight and alone.he wasn't smart like the real Host pilots - he knew his place. but.. but jsut for this little bot....
he nodded to crolwey, and took of the borrowed gi. he could /hear/ sandelphons snear from across the room - but colryw didn't bat an eye. even the other pilots - they get right on carring on. the fact that he wasn't fit and scupleted like them didn't seem to matter at all at the moemnt. corlwey took of his own gi - looking much more like the extpected build of a pilot - if perhaps to lanky, and azripahle handed him back the staff that had been cuahgt in his uniferom before both tops where tossed aside. pickign up him imporomptly made 'sword', azripahel fell back into possition.
crowley did not like the air of this new station. The MorningStar Hoard had trained him well, and he had evern mark of being a good poilot - but corley didn't .. Mess.. Well with the rest of the poilots. And when it caming to poiloting jeagers - that was a major problem. in a pinch, he could do his job with an eric if something came up and the trio needed to be split up 0- but the experance left him feeling sleaazy. all three of the boys minds let him overrid theirs too easily, and he hard the feeling. drift was supposted to balance two minds - not completely overwhealm on and submit them to you will.
Morningstar also had more poilots then they had suits, so crolwey was lent to other stations under the guize of looking for a co-pilot for him ... whiel the had him doing busy work and repairs in the mean time. and of course - his pay was sent back to Morningstar. there was also the concern that he was being sent to spy on the other stations - though corlwey had no idea why anyone would be that parinoid. Edean Station - unoffically run by the Celstian Hosts - had grilled him for hours when he'd first arrived, demanding to know what the Haord was playing at.
corlwey had answered them honestly, if Lucifer asked him about the Station, crolwey would tell him honestly, but the man wasn't about to go snoopping. if there was a sinerser reason corlwey had been cent here - he had no idea about it. the fight was eith the kaiji - not the other stations.
he really hated the Host.
he'd come across their pilots at other stations, and hadn't thought to highly of them then either. The Host prided themselves on the most flexable jobs fo piolts. crolwey wasn't sure of the nitty gritty - but the short end of it was they had the largest pool of compatable pilots ont he planet. there was never an excuse for one of their working suit not to be in the thick of things - if a single pilot was kille dot injured - they always had a fresh piolt to sync up and go. any base with a host suit had an extra pilot at all times.
this base's extra man was codenamed Azirpahle.
oh, and that - all Host piolts got some kind of symolic angel name when they becaem a pilot. corlwey thought it was pretentios as fuck. Edean station had two suits, the five pilots being the Station leader Metatron, and his brother Sandelphon, and the second in command, Micheal and/or Gabriel. Honestly, crolwey was not sure which of them was acutally the second man. grabril was vocal enough and liked to give orders enough for it to be him. but micheal had this air of supurioirty that people did her bidding at a glance, no owrds needed. it was a kind of power that mad him wonder just where in the pecking order she actually was.
he wouldn't be surpised if he actually gave all the orders, metarton just being the fall guy.
and then there was Azirpahle. he must be one hell of a backup poiolt, becuase you culd not get faurthor fromt he hallow smiles of his co-piolts.
he was only as tall as sandelphone, tied for the smallest stature of the group. but while hte other four stood head high, snearing down their noses, azispahle would cock his head and study you for a moent - eye contact not as a measure of domince for a quationing look as he studied you. his hand shake was firm, but persoanlbe - not the limp wrist of micheal and metatpoin, or the too hard grasp of someone with something to proove like gabriel and sandephone. he'd clasp you hand with boht of his if his crew man wehren't around, and the smile would like up the room.
crowley hadn't seen his piloting skills yet, but he was looking forward to the change to spar with him for his entry evaluations. it was common eough pratcie, when looking for combatability, and as a free agent, crolwey went though the gauntnat each and every time he was enrolled at a new station. it was an excerzize in finding out who clicked wiht who on a subconciously level - and it ofen left corlwey with more bruises than protentionan co-pilots.
so it was a clear disapointemnt that he went though a week of sparing, and nevr once did the fith wheel of the host step forward. it was a week of ass beating both ways,a nd not a single pilot that he connected with. it was more out of frustation than anything else when corlwey pointed out after he'd run the list of the rest of the base, was he going to spar with the last Host pilot, or where htey keeping im for themselves?
sadnelphon had openly laughed at him -
Morningstar also had more poilots then they had suits, so crolwey was lent to other stations under the guize of looking for a co-pilot for him ... whiel the had him doing busy work and repairs in the mean time. and of course - his pay was sent back to Morningstar. there was also the concern that he was being sent to spy on the other stations - though corlwey had no idea why anyone would be that parinoid. Edean Station - unoffically run by the Celstian Hosts - had grilled him for hours when he'd first arrived, demanding to know what the Haord was playing at.
corlwey had answered them honestly, if Lucifer asked him about the Station, crolwey would tell him honestly, but the man wasn't about to go snoopping. if there was a sinerser reason corlwey had been cent here - he had no idea about it. the fight was eith the kaiji - not the other stations.
he really hated the Host.
he'd come across their pilots at other stations, and hadn't thought to highly of them then either. The Host prided themselves on the most flexable jobs fo piolts. crolwey wasn't sure of the nitty gritty - but the short end of it was they had the largest pool of compatable pilots ont he planet. there was never an excuse for one of their working suit not to be in the thick of things - if a single pilot was kille dot injured - they always had a fresh piolt to sync up and go. any base with a host suit had an extra pilot at all times.
this base's extra man was codenamed Azirpahle.
oh, and that - all Host piolts got some kind of symolic angel name when they becaem a pilot. corlwey thought it was pretentios as fuck. Edean station had two suits, the five pilots being the Station leader Metatron, and his brother Sandelphon, and the second in command, Micheal and/or Gabriel. Honestly, crolwey was not sure which of them was acutally the second man. grabril was vocal enough and liked to give orders enough for it to be him. but micheal had this air of supurioirty that people did her bidding at a glance, no owrds needed. it was a kind of power that mad him wonder just where in the pecking order she actually was.
he wouldn't be surpised if he actually gave all the orders, metarton just being the fall guy.
and then there was Azirpahle. he must be one hell of a backup poiolt, becuase you culd not get faurthor fromt he hallow smiles of his co-piolts.
he was only as tall as sandelphone, tied for the smallest stature of the group. but while hte other four stood head high, snearing down their noses, azispahle would cock his head and study you for a moent - eye contact not as a measure of domince for a quationing look as he studied you. his hand shake was firm, but persoanlbe - not the limp wrist of micheal and metatpoin, or the too hard grasp of someone with something to proove like gabriel and sandephone. he'd clasp you hand with boht of his if his crew man wehren't around, and the smile would like up the room.
crowley hadn't seen his piloting skills yet, but he was looking forward to the change to spar with him for his entry evaluations. it was common eough pratcie, when looking for combatability, and as a free agent, crolwey went though the gauntnat each and every time he was enrolled at a new station. it was an excerzize in finding out who clicked wiht who on a subconciously level - and it ofen left corlwey with more bruises than protentionan co-pilots.
so it was a clear disapointemnt that he went though a week of sparing, and nevr once did the fith wheel of the host step forward. it was a week of ass beating both ways,a nd not a single pilot that he connected with. it was more out of frustation than anything else when corlwey pointed out after he'd run the list of the rest of the base, was he going to spar with the last Host pilot, or where htey keeping im for themselves?
sadnelphon had openly laughed at him -
there's another door that corley has never seen open.
He works on the second floor, has been for a few years now - and he's only just realised.. There's a door next to the stairwell.
He's not sure when he fnally clued into it - but today he'd figured out what it means. as he sauntered up the stiarwell after lunch with the dashing Mr Fell who worke dint he cubical next to him he can't help but notice. he'd been admiried Fell's lovely plump tooshie; having the good man a gew steps in fron tof him had given him a rare glumple of the taught trouster fabric usually hidden under the lentgh of his coat, and he'd been memosmoried about seeing it in action.
nfortualy for him, it ment he'd lingered a few steps behind for the view, so when Fell had reached thier floor first, it had left him string slightly up. and with nothing to occupiy his attention for those few seconds, his gaze had been drawn to the slight slope of the celeing as he finshied the last steps.
it was most defiantly as a little bit of an angle. not alot - not enouhg to typically be noticed from here - but certault enough to put the room at an angel, no? he'd glanced up then, and thee ceiling above them way at a much more noticaly slant. sure- it could be enough to make sure that stair takers wouldn't hit their head - but... well, it also would be the perfect slope for another set of stairs, now wouldn't it?
the little voice in his head that attmepted to keep him sane and safe was muttering visiously that he ought to leave it alone. it wasn't his buiness. but he couldn't help ut lookt a the door way as he stepped up. ther was no moulding along the wall just inside the doorway - which may bot have been odd for a stairwell, but it did give the illution that htwwall might not be attachted tot eh floor. to his right, the wll did the same, but it just seemd more solid. he tapped the wall to his left with his knuckles. no that was most certily a wall buiild well after everthing else. Fell was waiting in te long hallway bewteen their cubicales, wathcing him carefully. crowley tried to look non cellant, but now he was cuirous. he glanced at he door he'd never otice before. "A supply coloset?" he asked Fell, moer jsut wanting to point hte door out, without sounding like a loon.
Fell's reation is what sealled his fate. he looked... uneasy.
:best get back to work, my dear boy>
He works on the second floor, has been for a few years now - and he's only just realised.. There's a door next to the stairwell.
He's not sure when he fnally clued into it - but today he'd figured out what it means. as he sauntered up the stiarwell after lunch with the dashing Mr Fell who worke dint he cubical next to him he can't help but notice. he'd been admiried Fell's lovely plump tooshie; having the good man a gew steps in fron tof him had given him a rare glumple of the taught trouster fabric usually hidden under the lentgh of his coat, and he'd been memosmoried about seeing it in action.
nfortualy for him, it ment he'd lingered a few steps behind for the view, so when Fell had reached thier floor first, it had left him string slightly up. and with nothing to occupiy his attention for those few seconds, his gaze had been drawn to the slight slope of the celeing as he finshied the last steps.
it was most defiantly as a little bit of an angle. not alot - not enouhg to typically be noticed from here - but certault enough to put the room at an angel, no? he'd glanced up then, and thee ceiling above them way at a much more noticaly slant. sure- it could be enough to make sure that stair takers wouldn't hit their head - but... well, it also would be the perfect slope for another set of stairs, now wouldn't it?
the little voice in his head that attmepted to keep him sane and safe was muttering visiously that he ought to leave it alone. it wasn't his buiness. but he couldn't help ut lookt a the door way as he stepped up. ther was no moulding along the wall just inside the doorway - which may bot have been odd for a stairwell, but it did give the illution that htwwall might not be attachted tot eh floor. to his right, the wll did the same, but it just seemd more solid. he tapped the wall to his left with his knuckles. no that was most certily a wall buiild well after everthing else. Fell was waiting in te long hallway bewteen their cubicales, wathcing him carefully. crowley tried to look non cellant, but now he was cuirous. he glanced at he door he'd never otice before. "A supply coloset?" he asked Fell, moer jsut wanting to point hte door out, without sounding like a loon.
Fell's reation is what sealled his fate. he looked... uneasy.
:best get back to work, my dear boy>
"you sound like them…"
maybe not the best thing to tell the angel of rebelion, even if he had no idea who 'them' refered too. Just the same, lucifer looked at the agnel dumbfounded. "and who is 'tehm'?"
crowely sat up in alarm from where he'd been lounging, coiling around azirpahle where he sat on one of the stone benches. their was an unsteady cese fire between them nad the devil, but crolwey didn't trust it to last any farther than he trusted gabreil. azirpahel however has holding hte devil's gaze with his own steady look, and crolwey gave him a reassuring sqeeze but said nothing yet.
"Like gabriel. and the others. the way the talk down on he humans. i hadn't realised it would be so universal."
Lucifer snareled,'I doubt that - hating on them is why i was caste out - refusing to kneel before hte mud spawn."
azirpahle knodded, "while i don't think gabriel ever calle dthem mud spwn, i think it's more that those words aren't in his limited vocabulay. and her certialy lacks the creativity to string them together if they were. no, he typically refer to anything related to them as 'gross matter' "
azirpahle being here had ogne along wa to pointing out that something in the Fall prossess was amiss. He may have Fell, but he certainly did not Fall.
it agave lucifer pause, and he slumped bakc into his throne, eying the pair.
"remember, they where just as eager so start the war as your lot," azprile added, tilting his head to side eye the dark lord. "there is no love for humans aside the prerquasite charade becuase they are a creation of the almighty. if they didn't think she might be watching, i'm sure they'd of left it all to burn as soon as the gardan fisaco unfolded."
lucifer turned the statement over in him mind. he knew from beelabubs reort that the angel's wrod where almost as cloying as th serpants, but he hadn't relised just how true that stament was. crolwey could lie using only the truth, and his angel certainly had a talent in forcing the perpsectinve in an agument.
"they really don't know what they tossed out, do they pricipality."
he grinned at the queer look ont he angels face.
this... this could be something huge....
maybe not the best thing to tell the angel of rebelion, even if he had no idea who 'them' refered too. Just the same, lucifer looked at the agnel dumbfounded. "and who is 'tehm'?"
crowely sat up in alarm from where he'd been lounging, coiling around azirpahle where he sat on one of the stone benches. their was an unsteady cese fire between them nad the devil, but crolwey didn't trust it to last any farther than he trusted gabreil. azirpahel however has holding hte devil's gaze with his own steady look, and crolwey gave him a reassuring sqeeze but said nothing yet.
"Like gabriel. and the others. the way the talk down on he humans. i hadn't realised it would be so universal."
Lucifer snareled,'I doubt that - hating on them is why i was caste out - refusing to kneel before hte mud spawn."
azirpahle knodded, "while i don't think gabriel ever calle dthem mud spwn, i think it's more that those words aren't in his limited vocabulay. and her certialy lacks the creativity to string them together if they were. no, he typically refer to anything related to them as 'gross matter' "
azirpahle being here had ogne along wa to pointing out that something in the Fall prossess was amiss. He may have Fell, but he certainly did not Fall.
it agave lucifer pause, and he slumped bakc into his throne, eying the pair.
"remember, they where just as eager so start the war as your lot," azprile added, tilting his head to side eye the dark lord. "there is no love for humans aside the prerquasite charade becuase they are a creation of the almighty. if they didn't think she might be watching, i'm sure they'd of left it all to burn as soon as the gardan fisaco unfolded."
lucifer turned the statement over in him mind. he knew from beelabubs reort that the angel's wrod where almost as cloying as th serpants, but he hadn't relised just how true that stament was. crolwey could lie using only the truth, and his angel certainly had a talent in forcing the perpsectinve in an agument.
"they really don't know what they tossed out, do they pricipality."
he grinned at the queer look ont he angels face.
this... this could be something huge....
kill an archangel….
It wasn't that Crowley was against it - in fact, he could name four right off the cuff that he'd be completely fine if they met their end quickly and painfully. It's just that - outright murder wasn't really his style. He fell because his big mouth got him in trouble, not because of any outright actions he'd preformed. and.. well, he would never admit to missing their creator - but he certainly did not miss her fan club. they'd been one of two angels of the millennia that hadn't been completely insufferable, but really, Aziraphale was the only one worth knowing. the rest of them could rot for all he cared.
but to actually kill them. himself. no tricks or schemes. well. that might be a bit harder to contemplate, not to mention actually do.
Aziraphale tolerated a lot of trash talk about his superiors - but would he tolerate murder? probably not. and to learnt that Crowley had done so to save Aziraphale own life? worrisomely - Crowley was pretty sure his fiend was well past conditioned to believe he wasn't worth that. it was something Crowley had been shipping at for a very long time, and he wasn't confident that he'd made the progress he'd like in that regard.
he was going to find a way to do it, regardless. he just kept getting hung up on the little details. like.. how was he suppose to kill an archangel. satan's left tit, and wasn't that the real problem. Aziraphale lived in constant fear of them for his entire existence for a very real reason
It wasn't that Crowley was against it - in fact, he could name four right off the cuff that he'd be completely fine if they met their end quickly and painfully. It's just that - outright murder wasn't really his style. He fell because his big mouth got him in trouble, not because of any outright actions he'd preformed. and.. well, he would never admit to missing their creator - but he certainly did not miss her fan club. they'd been one of two angels of the millennia that hadn't been completely insufferable, but really, Aziraphale was the only one worth knowing. the rest of them could rot for all he cared.
but to actually kill them. himself. no tricks or schemes. well. that might be a bit harder to contemplate, not to mention actually do.
Aziraphale tolerated a lot of trash talk about his superiors - but would he tolerate murder? probably not. and to learnt that Crowley had done so to save Aziraphale own life? worrisomely - Crowley was pretty sure his fiend was well past conditioned to believe he wasn't worth that. it was something Crowley had been shipping at for a very long time, and he wasn't confident that he'd made the progress he'd like in that regard.
he was going to find a way to do it, regardless. he just kept getting hung up on the little details. like.. how was he suppose to kill an archangel. satan's left tit, and wasn't that the real problem. Aziraphale lived in constant fear of them for his entire existence for a very real reason
