Locked to Apprentices Only

[dream_is_a_wish]

[The video feed comes on, and Figment is fluttering in one of the apartments. He sets the mirror down and peers into it before nodding, certain that it's on.]

I...I'm sorry about what's happened! It's, no one's fault. But these witches they're old magic; some of the oldest kind! But I know we can beat them and save the Kingdoms.


But we have to work together.

[He plop down on the desk that the mirror is propped up on.]

I know that some new people just got here. And, I...We need people to train them! And everyone. Progress City was more about science, but I know there's gotta be books in the library about these ladies and The Dreamfinder always said, knowing is how you get better.

But we can't train in the castle...it's way too dangerous, so we have to go to safe places in Main Street. The Blacksmith for Warriors, Heroes and Machine classes. The Opera house is totally empty, so fairies and monsters, can...you guys go there?

[He taps his chin in thought.]

Mystics...oh! Mystics, you guys can go to the Magic Shop!

That leaves the Princesses...Miss Eleanor, do you think the basement of the Emporium would be open?

[He sits up.]

The Sanderson Sisters are too strong right now. They've, already hurt a lot of people and a lot of you guys but we can't give up. We can beat them and save Main Street!

Comments

[serpentinthegarden]

[ He dropped down from the shelves to land on Aziraphale's shoulders. Not wishing to have a light and fury encore he wrapped himself tight around those twitching wings, a snake version of a hug. ]

No, nevermind... Ace would only make things worse and Micheal's only middle management, he doesn't have the experience. It's been said, I'll do it.

[ Just so long as you relax. ]

[blessedarethebookmakers]

But you shouldn't have to. [he snuggles a bit in that embrace, soothed a bit by the weight of him and the warmth, pressing his lips against the smooth scales] This is your place to be free to do whatever you wish and here I was imperious at you.

[serpentinthegarden]

And we shouldn't have witches turning angels into rabbits either...

[ He did have a score to settle on that account. ]

You should have asked, but it's done. It's not a big deal.

[ His snaky head managed to loop it's way around to brush the scales of his cheek against Aziraphale's much less scaly one. ]

It's less you to worry about that way.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

Hmph. Well I will do so in the future. [he pets that scaly head, but is still fidgety] They turned me so easily, Crowley. I lost all sense of myself. I was just...just taken in. I'm an angel. That's not supposed to happen to me. I'm supposed to be stronger than that. But... but I...I wonder if I really am too soft.

[serpentinthegarden]

I always thought angels were meant to be soft, especially in times of trouble when humans really needed the guidance.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

[he snorted and moved to the sofa just because he needed to sit] You've bought into the hype. Why do you think there's so much emphasis on prefacing: do not be afraid? Angels are the messengers. We look cool and competent, feathers unruffled. Yes, to be sure, there's compassion, but it should always be measured. Not soft. Like steel encased in velvet. Which is not a euphemism, thank you.

[serpentinthegarden]

Too bad.

[ He could have run with that euphemism. ]

And I know what angels are supposed to do... but it never made much sense did it? Inspire humans to greatness but don't get too attached... How can you have compassion without getting attached? That's what compassion means.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

Not at all. You have compassion from understanding where they are coming from, what they have potential to be, loving them and believing in them despite their foibles. But if you must care for everyone, trust me, a little distance does a world of good. Otherwise it gets too much. Otherwise you see everyone hurting or ignoring you or dying or ...even living apart from you. Having their own lives. And you know you will never mean more than a single moment, an odd memory, and that is how it should be.

[serpentinthegarden]

[ Who was he to debate the finer points of Angeldom? He did what he usually did in such situations, just listened to Aziraphale speak while trying not to get to swept away by the timbre of his voice. ]

It's not as easy to remain distant here, is it?

[blessedarethebookmakers]

Oh, I'm quite good at it. I've had to be. Only... it is more difficult yes. They are so fragile... and to think that if we can be effected by the witches' power [which is what disturbs him more, even if it shouldn't] Then they have no chance whatever.

[serpentinthegarden]

They're imaginative. Apparently that's all that is really needed here.

[ As he spoke he felt a strange spasm in his tail... It twitched once, twice, and then coiled around the angel's wrist before it disappeared in a magical poof. The snake demon on his shoulders was suddenly the human-like demon falling off of them and into his lap. ]

Hey! Monster moon must be over!

[ Both hands clasped Aziraphale's cheeks as a long kiss landed on the lips between them, as if he had been away from home for ages! ]

We'll think of something.

[blessedarethebookmakers]

Oh! [he's startled enough by the change to be caught completely off guard by the kiss. It didn't help he was trying to stop Crowley from tumbling off his lap. He leans into the kiss, somewhat surprised by it and caught up a bit from the passion in it, but not enough so that his feather's relax]

Oh, dear. I hope so. I just feel so unsettled. [he pulled Crowley closer, burying his face against that warm neck]

Whatever happens, you will be careful won't you, dear? If-- if anything happened to you, I-- [he couldn't say it.]

[serpentinthegarden]

Nothing's going to happen! [ High on the joy of being himself again he spoke with extreme confidence. ] I know better than to sass our new Queens... while they still have power and can do anything about it. [ He kissed the angel again as that protective hand landed on his hip, to keep him from tumbling all the way to the floor no doubt. ]

[blessedarethebookmakers]

I hope not. I really do. [he returned the kiss, then nuzzled his neck again, just wanting to be there, to be wrapped up in him. This ....this was a feeling close to wholenss that he hadn't felt in centuries]

If I lost you, there would be nothing left of me. [said quietly, almost a whisper. It was true. Oh he would still live of course. The Almighty's trust in him burned the brightest of all. But he would be more like the Archangel Michael than he would admit, or worse. Maybe even a throne with all even pretenses of humanity burnt out. There to do one thing and one only. Avenge.]

[serpentinthegarden]

The demonic bravado faded as Aziraphale poured out his concerns. Was that what had happened back at the apartment? Nothing left of him but fury and divine smiting? Crowley's hand made it to the nape of Aziraphale's neck to brush his thumb over the soft skin and hold the angel protectively close. He didn't want to see that again, everything Aziraphale was burned away... And he realized with stark clarity that the feeling the angel was describing was the very same feeling he had experienced when Aziraphale had been eaten by the fish, and when he had passed out... and when he had been transformed into the rabbit... That desperate never to be parted feeling that had him holding the angel so snugly to his chest. "I won't let that happen. Having everything you are burned away would be worse than dying. Don't give into that feeling, ever."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

It was somehow unexpected, this gentle touch, being pulled close like this. It was a bit difficult to settle into it but when he allowed himself-- how good it felt to simply melt. To relax a little. What a rare thing to have, honestly, in all the twists and turns of the world.

"I shan't." Give in, he meant, since it was asked of him. And it was honestly the better road to take. He didn't ask for anything likewise, because he knew that Crowley wouldn't come so close to that. He was too much himself and when he cared, he genuinely did. He was wasted on hell, honestly. Sometimes he wondered whether it wouldn't have turned out better if they switched places.

But never mind.

"Thank you, Crowley."