Character Meet and Greet

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"You can design and create, and build the most wonderful place in the world. But it takes people to make the dream a reality."

I. Exploring Main Street! Take a trip through a little town taken straight from 1890's America. Visit the shops, dine at the restaurants- but don't forget you are here on a mission. As an Apprentice, you will need to gather some supplies. A weapon, or tool for producing magic.

But we understand if that corn dog cart on Market Street is your first stop.

II. Apprentice Class 101! Practice your spell casting and weaponship on the open commons behind the Firehouse. Sparring, casting or just general confusion abound here. Try not to hit anything or...anyone, the paint on the infirmary is still drying.

III. Look out! A level 2 corroded monster has managed to get onto Main Street! Protect the citizens and defeat the cur, and please watch the damage, the paint is still wet!

IV. One Little Spark! Go ahead, show us the strength of your imagination and come up with your own scenarios. Just, stay out of the Corroded Lands...if possible.

Comments

II

[serpentinthegarden]

"Yeah, tea time. You haven't even swung that sword once."

The pot calling the kettle... as Crowley was reclining on a nearby bench not paying the slightest bit of attention to the lessons being held all around him. Even if some one had managed to create a small rainstorm. I mean, good for them, but he saw no reason to participate.

"It's no good just to hold it."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"Well I certainly don't intend to use it." Though he can't help but smile a little as he goes to join his...companion. It's a bit difficult to get settled on the bench with wings in the way, but he manages, and never mind that their feathers are brushing against one another. It just can't be helped.

"I wasn't really keen on it the first time around. Not when I got the gist of it." They hadn't been entirely happy about that either; letting a demon sneak into the garden and being too late to thwart it. Oh well...

"I hardly wanted to use it for my side. Let alone theres." Though someone has made quite a nice little rain cloud. He hopes they don't get zapped by the thunder lacing around it because he is all out of healing at the moment.

[serpentinthegarden]

It might have been helped if he wasn't lounging as if to take up the majority of the space on the bench or if his wings hadn't chosen the precise moment Azriaphale sat down to flex and stretch. Momentary feather mingling was unavoidable under those circumstances.

"Why did you chose the sword in the first place? You could have had anything."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"Old habits, I suppose. As I said, I don't want anything." And if feather mingling was unavoidable, well, that was just the way it went and certainly adjusting one wing just slightly hardly meant that he was stroking the other at all.

"And what about you?" A faint smile. "Or are you hoping for another werewolf to push you into action."

[serpentinthegarden]

And it certainly couldn't be helped if for comfort's sake one shifted a little closer, just to put a little distance between an armrest and their elbow.

"Couldn't see you with a wand anyway. You'd be waving it around like..." His mind blanked, "That guy. Oh you know, kid with the scar."

Crowley watched the magical proceedings around him. That storm was getting out of hand. It seemed like it was going to blow the kid who created it clear off the field.
The question asked soon had him giving the angel the driest of looks.

"I'm hoping to avoid all future werewolves... And everything else. These people can sort out their own messes from now on."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

And if his knee should happen to brush against Crowley's and rest there, well, it was just because of proximity.

"Kid with a wand? Oh...you mean...Harry Potter." He makes a face as he says that name. "Honestly, I had people ringing my shop for months wondering whether I had copies that were sold out everywhere else. Beastly little series." He was not entirley happy.

"How did you know he had a scar?" He can't help but raise an eyebrow at that.

"I wish it were that simple... But I have a feeling if we don't help, we'll be stuck here."

[serpentinthegarden]

And if in bouncing his own knee as if his foot were falling asleep it should happen to rub against Azriaphale's... well, that was just being done on purpose, obviously.

"Riight, Harry Potter that was it!"

He leaned closer, grinning from ear to ear, because the angel was so certain he had caught him reading a book.

"Watched the movies. Every one of them. Thought the kids were pretty good. Most child actors are... eh, they try, but these ones could actually act for the most part."

The brief joy was tempered by the rest of what Azriaphale said, about being stuck here. Yes, he was starting to think the Earth was a lost cause but you don't abandon one lost cause to take up another.

"Anyway I don't know what they expect us to do without our powers."

Crowley snapped his fingers and while a gust of wind with a boy tumbling along inside it blew past them nothing even remotely demonic or magical happened.

"Look at these items they said, pick the one that speaks to you..." He huffed, "Well, none of them did. And I'm certainly not going to slither over to every monster that shows up and introduce them to my fangs. I don't like doing that."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

Aziraphale tries very hard to not smile at that.

"The movies? How horrible." How endearing. Crowley watching a kid's movie. Why? Aziraphale couldn't say. Maybe just to prove that the movie was better, which everyone knew was a lie regardless of the circumstances.

His not quite smile fade and he rested a hand on Crowley's knee, wrapping his wing more closely around him and a little above as a gust of rain blew in their direction.

"Don't worry, dear. It won't come to that. We'll find a way so you don't have to if you don't want to. I'll even..." He shakes his sword a bit. "Figure out this beastly thing if I need to."

[serpentinthegarden]

The light splatter of rain bounced off Azriaphale's feathers, sheeting across their outer surface, but leaving the pair hidden beneath them entirely dry and cozy. Crowley's eyes practically sparkled as he caught the angel's. This was how they had met all those centuries ago, with a rain storm, and a umbrella of feathers shielding him even then.

"Weeeellll..."

He drew the word out as there was something else that had been mentioned to him but it had seemed too silly to bring up. If however Azriaphale was wiling to learn how to sword properly, for him, he could be a little ridiculous.

"After the weapon choosing thing was a bust they did say something about my possibly being more elementally aligned. No need for a wand or a sword then. They said finding a spark of imagination might trigger my new powers. I told them demons don't have imagination but they were very insistent about it. 'You wouldn't have been brought here if you had no imagination at all'," He mocked their tone with a silly voice. "Feels far-fetched if you ask me, but..."

He leaned in, looking into Azriaphale's bright blue eyes, deep as he could, and clicked the last syllable of what he was about to say with his tongue.

"Help me find my spark?"

[blessedarethebookmakers]

Oh don't give him that look. That is a horrible look because it is a beautiful look, and it reminds him of so long ago when everything had seemed so bright and hopeful. When Crowley had seemed bright and hopeful, regardless of being demonic.

He didn't trust that well, however. It sounded so casual but he knew better. He had the mental fortitude not to fall for it. He was, after all, used to temptation from Crowley. He had resisted for six thousand years.

He rubbed his knee a little frowning at the words. He was setting himself up to resist and then-- that lean in... So close he could feel the heat of his breath and the way it danced over his skin... Aziraphale took an unconscious breath... and at the last word his feathers bristled all over.

"Oh, that is diabolical. You foul thing." Because he wanted to help! More than anything. Even as the insinuations danced like embers in between them. He wasn't even sure what Crowley was insinuating would work! But then he couldn't be sure it wouldn't either.

With a snort and a very hard look to say he knew just what the demon was doing, then cupped his jaw, leaned in and planted a very soft kiss on his mouth; closing his eyes. Even just tasting his breath was heavenly and the temptation licked over his skin like flames.

It was absolutely horrible.

Remembering to breathe again, he pulled away a bit.

"Did that help?"

[serpentinthegarden]

His chin captured, his lips embraced, for that one moment they were like the lovers one passed by on the lane in the park sharing a tender moment hidden beneath an umbrella. He was melting, he was fairly certain, from all that raw divinity coursing through a body that hadn't known it for eons. And yet he wanted more, to reach out and touch Azriaphale's face, to lace his fingers through that white hair, or even to draw the angel back for a second kiss once he moved away.

The effort to resist inflamed the senses. Feeling more like a man ready to breath fire than one ready to stand down, he managed to sit back on the bench and attempted to look cool...

"Yeeaahh."

Which he failed utterly at as he looked more like a deer who had just seen God in the headlights of an approaching car rather than a super slick demon.

"Couldn't be better, very motivating..."

He spoke quickly, each word nearly running over the one before it. He was geeking out. Realizing that he made an effort to settle his rapidly beating heart and turn this back around.

"You know I was expecting one of those divinely inspired angelic speeches. A little pep talk about inner strength or discovering who you really are."

He absolutely beamed, the happiest demon in the entire Kingdom.

"That was much better!"

[blessedarethebookmakers]

Well! That was unexpected! He was beyond pleased to see Crowley so happy. If his abilities were working properly, he knew he'd feel it too, and long to in a way. It must feel wonderful, like a summer's day or the tortes at that little shop in Shrewsbury.

And for just a kiss! Imagine that! Though he'd rather expected to have to do another one. Or perhaps a few. And he somewhat longed to lick his lower lip briefly, just to see what taste remained, if any. Most of him wanted to do it again.

And well if it properly motivated Crowley, more was the better, wasn't it? In fact he was practically obligated!

But he did know how to pace himself. after all. So he just smiled, absently running his fingers in slow circles against a spot on the inside of Crowley's leg.

"Mm well if one kiss does all that, I suppose I won't have to give you very many at all."

[serpentinthegarden]

Up was down and down was up... and here he was sitting as still as a picture trying to behave while an angel tempted him with honeyed words and a roving finger. And what a temptation! Crowley rolled his head over to look at Azriaphale wondering if the angel had the slightest idea what sorts of imaginative thoughts that was provoking!

"I've found that to truly inspire people these sorts of messages do need to be repeated."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

He was not a dove, therefore he did not coo. Though people might have been forgiving for thinking so at the pleased little thoughtful noise he made.

"I see..."

Crowley was so still, like a waiting snake unsure if he should go forward or back. He couldn't help but enjoy it immensely for reasons that were...well...frankly ineffable.

"And how do you propose to inspire in me..." He glanced over at him, met his eyes and let it slide down his form before meeting his eyes once more. "... a spark?" And he smiled, the perfect picture of angelic innocence.

[serpentinthegarden]

The coiled and waiting snake metaphor was a very apt one as it turned out. Everything demon in him was screaming, HELL YEAH, strike and have yourself a delicious dove meal! But, everything good left in him, that he often denied existed, held back carefully watching and waiting so the little bird didn't frighten and fly away.

Crowley opened his mouth hoping there would be some sort of flash of brilliance and a witty remark would usher forth about the best way to inspire a spark in a angel... instead he gaped quite openly that Azriaphale had just run his eyes over him.

Opposite day continued.

"I... uh..."

Brilliant.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

That is completely adorable. But clearly he's having some sort of mental breakdown of this whole thing so Aziraphale pats his cheek, dismissing it and rises.

"Well I suppose I had better figure this out then." He looks at the sword with a bit of distaste. "I do hate fighting. But... one does as one must..."

There was only so much one could do with a spark after all, and if he had to keep Crowley from having to-- well-- go snake, then he would have to... work hard-- with this distasteful thing.

"I will need a bath when this is done," he muttered to himself, rolling his shoulders. "More like a thousand..."

[serpentinthegarden]

Crowley deflated like a balloon, kicking himself all the while for hesitating when Azriaphale was so there! So willing! Stupid nice side! Why did he have to wait!? Just to make sure...? What do you need a flashing road sign??

Outwardly however there was only the pout showing any indication of disappointment, that and he seemed to take up even more of the bench than he had previously.

"Pointy end goes into the bad guy."

Crowley offered helpfully.

The little experiment hadn't gone so poorly on his end really. He thought back on it as he sulked and watched the angel flail about with that sword hoping he didn't catch a wing. That was, when you thought of it, their first kiss... That wasn't so bad. Not for a first kiss! They hadn't bumped noses or gotten anything tangled together or any of those other little horrors that he had seen time and again happen to hapless humans on TV. Nah, s'alright!

Actually it was more than alright. It was pretty brilliant! Maybe this place held some potential after all!

"They do have a day spa, perfect for working out the kinks in a swordsman's arm."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"Yes, thank you. Ever so helpful." He was having negative amount of fun with this, and then Crowley had to speak again dashing even that to pieces.

"Swordsman's arm? Really?" It was horror imagining it! Something big and bulky and grotesque and so against everything he was that he couldn't help but shudder. "No, I can't do this. There has to be some other weapon. Some other way. I will do something, Crowley, I promise. I don't want you to worry. But this? I'm not... not...Cabron the Barbarian! I never asked for this in the first place, you know. I was just there looking at the place and God said unto me, woulds't thou like a job and I might have said yes because Eden looked so lovely but I didn't expect to be put on guard duty. I used to be in accounts!" He waggles the sword in Crowley's direction.

"Do you have any idea how long it takes to log in every grain of sand? You don't because you weren't there and it was horrid and I just wanted to see something beautiful, that was all." And look where it got him.

[serpentinthegarden]

"Conan!"

He corrected a little more forcefully than he intended, after all Conan had books written about him. There was no reason not to know the name.

Then there was a sword in his face and for a moment, a very brief moment he worried the pointy end might end up in the bad guy. Carefully he reached out and with a single finger moved the blade aside.

"Look, maybe you just picked the wrong weapon for you? We could head back to the weapons shop and browse around."

He stood and stretched his wings before sauntering over to stand next to his poor formerly sand counting angel.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"Oh, thank you for suggesting that. You have no idea how relieved I am." He sets thes sword gingerly to the side as if it were a particularly nasty animal. "Yes, let's go. And they have an...adequate little ice cream stand near it. I believe they call it dots. You should try. Oh..."

He notices one of Crowley's feathers sitting a bit crooked and gently straightens it.

"There we are." And then beams at him. "Shall we?"

[serpentinthegarden]

"Dots? I've seen Dots. They sell those at the theater all the time."

He stood still, smiling as the angel groomed his wings to make him presentable again. He thought about doing the same in return but Azriaphale always looked perfect to him, not a feather out of place that one.

Crowley bobbed his head in the direction of the store and walked a pace that would keep the angel by his side.

"Frozen bananas."

This seemingly out of place comment was later expanded on.

"Is that ice cream cart the same one that sells those frozen bananas?"

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"I'd hardly call that place a theater. Movies aren't theater. Most movies aren't. Though Laurence Olivier-- be still my heart. That was cinema." He flicked a wing against Crowley's ever so slightly. "You should come watch with me sometime. You might like it you know."

He smiles at the thought of frozen bananas.

"Yes, I think so! Have you tried one? They're quite good. I enjoy a good banana now and again. There's just something about them that appeals to me." Do you get it? Do you? Isn't it clever?

[serpentinthegarden]

Crowley groaned which as it was him sounded more like a growl. Puns were nearly as bad as slight of hand.

"I'm sorry I brought the banana's up now."

Thankfully the weapons shop was near and he quickly reached forward to hold the door open. He waited just outside, holding the glass and metal door open and leaning slightly against it. After you angel.

"I've nothing against Laurence Olivier, but that is what they are called, Movie Theaters. They don't go around calling them 'Picture Shows' anymore."

He spoke again just as Azriaphale moved to walk past him and enter the shop.

"But, it's a date angel. First theater showing one of his movies."

Then the ringing of the overhead bell called out the sprightly owner, or temporarily owner's assistant... it was difficult to tell.

"Ah! Master Azriaphale... and Master Crowley! My, my, didn't expect to see you both back here so soon! The advice not work out for you? WELL! There are plenty more weapons here, plenty! Just close your eyes, hold out your hands and see what is drawn to them. It worked for me... after I got over the loss of the finger."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"Serves you right." But he was grinning. He still preferred cinema to either of those labels, but he supposed people had to call it what they must. Though he had to wonder at the word date.

No, really wonder.

Did Crowley mean it casually? Well he must, of course, because it certainly wasn't a date date. Just because he'd given him a little inspiration didn't make anything official. Nothing could be official. Could it? No, certainly not. And certainly Crowley would be completely against holding hands in the theater, which Aziraphale would too, of course, because he was not a complete ninny; nor entirely that needy. And there would be no charming afterwards lit by the marquee lights, leaning closer until... sparks flew once more.

That was just absurd.

He did not mean a date date because he could not mean a date date and even if he did mean a date date it was certainly not any sort of date date that Aziraphale would ever have in mind-- not that he generally thought about such things.

And oh, wait, the strange sad little man was talking to him.

"What? Oh yes. Terrible finger. Loss. I mean. I do hope you find it. Er... what kind of weapon were you looking for, dear?"

He may be a little distracted.

[serpentinthegarden]

Words held power. As a demon Crowley understood that very well. The right word spoken at the right time could start wars, or end them... get you free pancakes at iHop... or send an angel into a harmless fit of fluttering. He was especially fond of that last one.

He sneered at the strange little man but the expression softened as Azriaphale tripped and tumbled over his own thoughts.

"You were looking for a new weapon, didn't like the sword."

The spoken of weapon was collected from the angel's hands, his demonic fingers quickly brushing over Azriaphale's, before it was left on the counter.

"I was the lost cause."

Even now surrounded by all these interesting and strange objects nothing spoke to him. Maybe the angel would have better luck than he did. Second time's the charm? He issued a warning before Azriaphale's search began.

"Mind your fingers."