smk_ooc | Character Meet and Greet

Move. Right, good plan really.

Only he didn't so much move as fall for while ducking out of the way of the airborne garbage can it caught him in the shoulder sending him into a tumble that deposited him unceremoniously on the ground. Not the ground proper, thankfully, as that might have hurt or broken something but into the loving arms of a well trimmed bush. His shoulder screamed at him but he snarled against the protests as he struggled to right himself.

Azriaphale!

He knew he had heard the angel's voice but seeing him here, facing off to that large... furry... whatever...

"What in the hell are you doing?! Inviting him to tea?? He doesn't want tea!"

Despite the pain it sent shooting through his shoulder, Crowley raised his arms trying to call up the fires of Hell, some sort of demonic intervention that would give that stupid foolish angel the chance to get away from the Beast, but there was nothing. No fire, not even an ember... or smoke, just nothing.

Thinking quickly he grabbed a stone off the ground, one of those usually used for edging and winged it, awkwardly and with the wrong hand, at the monster. It was a bad throw but it still managed to bounce off the werewolf's back. The monster turned and growled low in it's throat before settling into a ambush position preparing to attack the one who had just struck it.

"Get out of there!"

"Crowley!" His heart leapt into his throat as he saw him fall. He pulled down a hand but there was nothing answering that call. No power behind it. Instead he could only wince as the demon hit a bush.

He was so distracted he nearly got clawed again and had to throw himself out of the way, nearly falling himself, wings flared to keep balance.

"Well you can try to be civil, you know! And it always worked for Saint Francis!" And this thing was half animal."

Aziraphale saw the rock fly off the creature's back and then it whipped round to Crowley.

"I can't leave you here! Are you mad?! You'll be killed!" And not the kind that paperwork could fix! He'd be absolutely extinct!

The thought of that roared through him like holy fire. An angel was a soldier, after all! He had been primed and conditioned for something like this! It had been six thousand years but--

But--!

An idea struck him almost painfully, wonderfully, just like a miracle should.

He saw the werewolf lunge down at Crowley, great jaws snapping. Aziraphale half flew in front of him, wings flared to shield the demon; then grabbed his silver watch from his chain.

"Bad dog!" he said and shoved it in the werewolf's mouth. The creature let out an ear peircing howl as it crashed to the ground, frothing, crushing him along with it with its massive paw.

"Go on! It's alright! I'll be just fine!"

Killed and not inconveniently discorporated? That was news to him. News which, unsurprisingly, made him pretty furious. It explained a great deal. Why he had been hungry, why his shoulder ached so badly, why... just leaving sounded like the absolutely worst thing he could possibly do!

"Go on?! How was this in anyway fine!"

With Azriaphale trapped under the paw of that creature?

The pain in his shoulder was nothing when compared to the torments of Hell, which was nothing when compared to the abject horror of seeing his dear friend in such trouble. Of the knowledge that he could at any moment be crushed under the weight of that paw or bitten in half by those large teeth. It absolutely couldn't be allowed to happen!

"I'm not going to just leave you, you...!"

Fool, jerk, several other very much more unflattering terms came to mind just because the idea of his leaving had even been suggested. Crowley reached up and pulled his glasses off. Not even bothering to fold them before he tossed them aside. His powers were gone but his nature was still there wasn't it? Hidden just below the surface, waiting in the grass like a...

His body changed, growing long and thin as scales replaced skin. Smaller but quicker he slithered up over the prone angel's stomach to the toe of the beast which dared to hold Azriaphale down. His fangs bared and lashed forward to inject venom unused in centuries, if indeed it had ever been used at all, directly into the werewolf's flesh.

The beast howled again, in fury and pain, as it whipped it's paw away. Both creature and serpent went flying through the air as the werewolf bounded away. It howled and whined as it frantically ran about the square, waving it's paw about as if the action of moving it about would lessen the pain of the venom coursing up it's foot.

The serpent landed again in a bush... He was getting tired of landing in bushes. Not comfortable places bushes. This time his everything hurt. Demons could fly when they wanted to but snakes weren't really meant to. Still what were a few bruises and a dizzying spin through the stratosphere as long at Azriaphale was safe?

It's fine because he is the one being crushed under the paw and gasping for breath and not Crowley. He's an angel. Angels heal better than demons anyway, though it's doing nothing for his beloved coat. He's unable to speak anyway as the pressure increases and tries to make flailing gestures to get Crowley to get out and get safe.

But then the sunglasses fall. He has the sinking feeling Crowley is going to do something stupid and, lo, he hates it when he's right. There's something interesting about the snake writhing over him but now is really not the blessed time and the strike is sudden and violent and does the job.

Though sends Crowley flying.

Aziraphale staggers to his feet, wheezing, and stumbles toward the bush as best he can, finally managing a somewhat decent jog.

"Come...huff on, my dear." He plucks the snake out of the bush, and then at the bone chilling howl that rattles through the air, wraps Crowley about his neck like a scarf and picks up his pace as best he could. It's not anything close to a fast clip considering he is-- not the trimmest around.

Fortunately he manages to find a hiding space between the chilly damp walls of two buildings and presses himself within it. It is so close that the walls touch either shoulder and crowd his wings against his back. But, uncomfortable or not, it is safe.

"Honestly. What a nightmare." Why they had been chosen for this he was sure he had no idea. "And you. I would appreciate if you showed a bit more sense." He strokes the top of the snake's head absently as he says it.

"Do you think I want to be stuck here all by myself?"

Was it tight in the alley? Given his much smaller size he didn't notice. What he did pay attention to was that hand stroking his head. The nails were neatly manicured and as he tasted the air with his tongue smelled of old books and that heavenly cologne Azriaphale favored.

"Me? You're the one whose brilliant plan involved feeding it a watch!"

Crowley hissed and coiled up neatly around the angel's neck, the harsh words maybe not having quite the same impact they would have coming from the mouth of a small snake rather than a snarling demon, but he paid that no mind and barreled on.

"You had no idea what to do with the damn thing once you had run out of timepieces to feed it! Were you planning on just laying there and letting it crush you?"

The rest he tried not to focus on too intently. He could feel the angel's pulse against the scales of his belly and what Azriaphale said about not wanting to be stuck here all by himself, it implied... didn't it... that he was as glad to see him here as Crowley was to see him.

He wasn't going to thank the angel for the rescue though! That was the last thing he needed getting around.

"I know..." he sighs, frowning. "I liked that watch too. It wasn't the one dear Oscar gave me thankfully. That one is still in the shop. But it was still quite old." Oh well. If it was to save Crowley from his own stupidity, then it was worth it.

He can't help but smile at the small irritated voice coming from the snake. Crowley is incensed and perhaps if he wasn't smallish and wrapped around Aziraphale's neck like a particularly avant garde scarf, he might have been more flustered.

As it was, he scratches the underside of Crowley's chin, cooing: 'who is a good snake' in his mind.

"I was hoping you'd come up with something clever." Which is--not particularly a lie as, well, some part of him must have hoped of it while lying there being crushed in the dust.

"Thankfully, you did." And he lifted the snake's head with a finger and kissed the top of it.

"Dear Oscar?"

Incensed by the familiar use of the word 'dear' in front of the unknown name 'Oscar' Crowley's coils tightened but nearly as quickly they uncurled, becoming that loose tie again. The light petting and moreso the... he-had-to-have-imagined-it-no-way-that-just-happened... kiss, worked their magic to soothe away some of the horror of the day.

"I'm not sure how clever it was... I hate doing this."

Meaning becoming a snake, even if Azriaphale was apparently really a great fan of serpents. Had to be the angel part of him, love all creatures great and small... that sort of thing.

"I'm always afraid I'll forget how to transform back."

"Yes." That poor man. Brilliant, but suffered more than usual by the slings and arrows of love.

"You'll be fine. I believe in you." And he did, planting another kiss just behind the snakey head absently. There is no doubt in his mind that Crowley would figure out how to get-- well-- whatever it was he wanted.

"Now, we should probably... find a way to get out of here. Back to base, as it were." He looks around and sees a fire escape across the way that he can climb.

"Stay here for now." And he tucks more of the snake around him. "That way we won't lose each other. Now..." He straightens, taking a breath. Who knows if that foul creature is still out there or how fast he might have to run or fight?

So he says, very softly: "Tally ho~" And creeps out of the alley, looking one way and the other before running-- jogging-- walking at a brisk pace toward the fire escape.

'I believe in you,' was one of the very oldest tricks in the angel play book. It was right beside, 'You can do anything you put your mind to,' and often followed by, 'It's whats on the inside that counts,' when you failed. So why did hearing Azriaphale say it almost make it sound less trite than it was? He nearly believed it especially with it sealed with that kiss.

Crowley did remain where he was, an angel's shawl, if only because it seemed a very long drop to the ground and an even longer crawl to get anywhere after that. Feeling battle sore he decided he could borrow Azriaphale's legs a little longer.

"Come on, angel, pick it up!"

But, Crowley was a backseat driver.

"We don't want to be in the middle of the alleyway if that werewolf should come round the corner."

Their progress wasn't nearly as fast as he would have preferred, but then what he would have preferred right about now was four wheels and an accelerator pressed to the floor... He doubted a werewolf could match a Bentley for speed.

And that werewolf creature was still in the area somewhere. It's growls could still be heard, muffled and echoing off the buildings so that it was difficult to pinpoint where the noise originated from. The creature's scent was still in the air too as every time Crowley's tongue flicked out to check it was met with the same flavor that he had discovered when he had bit deep into the creature's paw.

"Oh, he's close... Maybe hiding somewhere."

"I am trying, you know. It's been a while since I've had to...Oof..." he has to stop where he is and catch his breath a moment. They are out of the alleyway anyway and a closer to the fire escape on the other side. The low growl makes his feathers ruffle and Crowley's words make it worse.

Now he's paranoid, looking around for any sign of the beast.

"Well keep an eye out." He starts to jog again, telling himself that he will really need to do something if they're going to be forced to stay here much longer.

Another thought makes him slow and come to a stop. What if there are others who would be hurt by the creature?

"I... I er... Shouldn't we do something? Put a stop to it somehow?"

"I am keeping an eye out."

Though in order to watch behind them he did have to slither about Azriaphale's neck and 'periscope' his head over the angels to see between his wings.

"Oh, this is bad..."

He shuddered even if the pathway behind them was also clear.

"Can you feel that, there's a dark malevolence in the air. Hatred. That's what it is, pure hatred."

Close to Azriaphale's ear he hissed, "How could we stop that thing? What we need to be doing is hiding. it's after us, hunting us from the shadows."

That... was not good. No use in negotiating with it then. He jogged a little faster to the fire escape, then tripped as Crowley hissed in his ear.

"Ahahaha don't do that!" It tickles dreadfully, especially that tongue.

"And I don't know but we can't just let it alone, Crowley. Euugh this is covered in rust." He cringes as he looks at the ladder. He is going to be positively grimy after this. Not to mention the state of his clothes. The dry cleaning bill alone didn't bear thinking about.

He started to climb anyway, very reluctantly, only because the growling seemed to be getting closer. It took him a moment to reach the first landing and when he did his arms and legs felt a bit rubbery with effort. Aziraphale looked up at the seven or so stories left to go and made an executive decision.

"Right. Window." He pushed one open with some effort and the room seemed to be abandoned, but more importantly, they could hide in the building and perhaps there was an elevator!

"But we're not going to hide here forever. We need to come up with a plan. We're-- I'm an angel after all! I am here to thwart that kind of thing and I can't let it hurt--" He grunts as he worms his way into the window.

"Anyone-- else--" Another pull and he winces again. "...Blast."

He doesn't want to tell Crowley he's stuck in a somewhat undignified position but perhaps -- if he wriggles a little more....

It was a common misconception that snakes had only one expression. Actually they had many and during the course of that one conversation Crowley ran through several. A fond smile as Azriaphale laughed at his hissing so near the angel's ear, another time, another place and he would be tempted to try that again. Sarcastic pity as the poor angel had to climb up those rusty rungs. And a smug smirk as Azriaphale found himself wedged in the window... if only there wasn't a bloodthirsty werewolf hunting them.

"It looks to me this window is doing more thwarting."

Snaking his way around the angel's neck he dropped into the room. Here the carpeted floor was able to break his fall and he could will himself back to his usual demonic self without risk of being eaten or crushed. The shocking pain from his shoulder returned as his arms did but he gritted his teeth against it and reached for Azriaphale's hand with the uninjured side.

"Maybe that's what we could do. Stay up here long enough with the open window and it could be his backside wedged in it instead of yours."

With relief, he reaches for Crowley's hand, spotting the pain but not able to do anything about it at the moment.

"That's--" He grunts and wriggles. "Surprisingly well-thought out. We could" grunt. "Do that and" gasp. "Bring someone more competent from town... I should never have eaten that second helping of Blanquette de veau."

He sucks in a breath and manages to wiggle free, though not before wrenching one wing in the process and nearly tumbling to the filthy floor.

"I am going to bathe for ages when this is over." It hardly seemed fair that he was in this mess to begin with. Wincing, he reached back to massage the wing joint while looking up at Crowley.

"How are you?"

He shrugged, only with the good arm, and craned his neck to look past the angel to his wing.

"I've been better."

Aside from the wing and the stains on his favorite jacket, Azriaphale seemed well but he still asked with that slight hint of barely concealed concern, "You?"

He clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes.

"I shudder to think."

But he does think, getting himself up and tugging his vest down, frowning at the great muddy pawprint on it. And the coat... Who knows? He had kept this coat in perfect condition and now it was probably a nightmare.

But there wasn't anything either of them could do about it so he took a deep breath to center himself.

"Well, we're alive, aren't we? That's a start... And perhaps... with some work... these stains-- may come out. If nothing else it's a lesson in humility and attachment... It's a good learning experience..."

Though why did it have to be on his favorite coat?

"I'm grateful to have had it." It was perfectly tailored just to him and he had gotten it just after-- Well, it was best not to think about it. His poor coat.

"Crowley, we simply must get out of this place."

Crowley stayed quiet while Azriaphale went on about those lofty morale lessons, just giving him that pitying look that so often went along with such statements. A learning experience? Poor deluded angel. The only thing this experience was was a massive cock up. If he had been paying more attention that damn werewolf wouldn't have been able to touch him, Azriaphale wouldn't have been nearly killed, and his jacket would have remained as white as it ever had been. He would wish it all away if he could.

"Off this world and back to Armageddon?"

He stepped forward to dust some rust from Azriaphale's sleeve, that at least came away easily enough.

He has gotten good at ignoring that look-- or anyway, well knows Crowley's thoughts about things. They are on different sides after all. Even so he can't help but be a little fond as Crowley brushes rust from his sleeve.

"Yes. Obvously. Oh, I know how it sounds. But we have an obligation, don't we? And we certainly can't stay here. If we must die in fire and chaos it's better to die for something we're willing to fight for. Though..." A wince, but he doesn't finish the thought. They wouldn't die, of course. At least not right off. But be sent to fight. And there was no avoiding it this time. It was very possible they would have to fight one another and the thought chilled him to the bone.

Best not think about it.

"Anyway, now that we're here, we need to find some way to lure that monstrous thing after us. To get it stuck. With any luck, we'll be back by lunchtime. Even though every place I've hit so far has food swimming in gravy. It's a veritable flood. That's how you know it's America, I suppose. Gravy and ketchup." He makes a face, then pulls in a breath as he unconsciously settles his wings against his back, only to have a streak of pain go through that blessed joint.

Can't even heal himself.

What a disaster.

"We're fucked either way, Azriaphale. Either we stay here and die or we go back there and watch the world burn... No matter which side wins we will lose."

Crowley scowled and cast a look back towards that small open widow as one of the monster's howls was carried past them on the wind.

"Think if I had to go I'd rather have it be like this."

At least they were together. His hand tightened on the angel's shoulder. It wasn't that he wanted to die, he very much didn't, but at least this was something more than he'd had a few hours ago when he felt he was alone and abandoned. Azriaphale lost to that damned ineffable plan...

The angel's eyes were the most wondrous of blues, often so full of light and joy, now they seemed more sad. Wasn't right really, for an angel to be sad. Wishing it to be otherwise lit a fire in his own golden set.

"But if we are going down, we're taking him with us! Go fill the ice bucket over there with water from the bathroom. Soak the window, the floor, the curtains, everything."

And with that he was off to collect a ceramic vase style lamp from the battered side table. He unplugged it carefully from the wall near the bed and ran it over to plug it back in to the wall just under the window.

Then he did the most brilliant thing ever, stuck his head out the window and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"We're over here you stupid mongrel! Did you really think you could track us?! What a pathetic excuse for a werewolf you are!! Your fleas could do better! COME ON! If you think you can win, we're waiting for you!!"

And the monstrous creature responded with a howl that swept through the alley and grew louder as the creature neared.

"We-- we are not. We are not! We're doing something aren't we? We've still got a chance. I refuse to give into those doubts. It's that sort of thing that gets you cast out." And he refused to give into it. Not when they still had a fighting chance.

He looks away from Crowley's blazing eyes and shakes his head at his language.

"No one is going anywhere. Certainly not here." He's muttering it to himself as he does what he's asked, trying not to look in the cracked bathroom mirror as he does so. He looks an absolute fright he knows, but that doesn't matter.

He focuses the next few moments on flooding everything he can with water, back and forth until his hands feel numb. He shivers at the howl.

"Well now, what, Crowley. Do you intend to drown him? Because if that's your plan I'm going to need a bit more time." He sounds a bit frantic only because he is.

Edited 2019-06-19 05:10 (UTC)

"Drown him in two inches of water?"

Crowley turned again to the window to yell some derisive about the werebeast's mother before unwinding the coils of the lamp and bringing it over so he could stand next to Azriaphale. Wing to wing whatever happened next.

"This place is a dump. Noticed it the first second we came in through that window. Hasn't been used in years!"

The beast howled again and this time there was another sound, the loud scraping of claws on the rungs of a ladder.

"But one thing it does have..."

The glass shattered sending shards spinning across the room as the creature burst in through the window.

"... is electricity!"

Crowley flicked on the lamp and threw it at the soaking wet wall, smashing it soundly, and if in the process of doing so his dark wing might brush past Azriaphale's white one... it was purely accidental and not a goodbye in case this didn't work.

"Oh for heaven's--!"

He may have yelped as the wolf burst through, one hand flailing out for a miracle that wouldn't happen, the other grabbing Crowley's tightly as he closed he squeezed his eyes shut.

A high pitched whine of wolf and electricity filled the room, but in a second it was over and there was nothing. No sound at all but the smell of burning fur. Cautiously opening one eye, he saw the creature very much dead, slumped on the windowsill.

"The poor thing. You know, I bet he was just hungry."

Edited 2019-06-19 06:16 (UTC)

"Poor thing!? Have you forgotten he wanted to eat us?"

Azriaphale had't he knew. The silly angel was able to find some measure of compassion for every living creature, even those that now reeked of burned fur.

But speaking of hungry...

"We should leave," Taking advantage of the angel's hand he starting leading them towards the apartment door, "Let some one else clean this up. We'll look for a good dry cleaner, maybe a few ice packs, and find a good restaurant... there has to be one here some where or this dump never would have any guests.
Besides... before we decide anything we should have a look around, shouldn't we?"

"Yes, well..." He doesn't know what to say about any of it. He's a bit out of sorts. Enough so that he takes a bit of comfort in Crowley leading the way, thinking up all the practical things to do. He can only nod. Ice packs. Dry cleaning. Definitely. Restaurant.

"Surely there must be somewhere worth eating at. Though honestly, what I want most is a stiff drink and a bath? Care to join me?" He's trying to be flippant and jovial but sounds a bit strained, adrenaline still going through him.

Both eyebrows shot straight up his forehead and a wicked smile spread across his face... and before he could stop it he found himself foolishly saying.

"A long hot soak would be good for this shoulder."

It had been an invitation to join in but some how he doubted the angel had really heard the way that had come across. Booze, bath, and some one to share that with... come on! He had to know! Even Azriaphale couldn't be that naive!

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