a little more inspiration....

[blessedarethebookmakers]

It is late afternoon on the eighteenth, and as the mirror swims to life, it focuses on Aziraphale who is standing about halfway back in the bedroom. He stands, hands tucked in front of him, smiling but looking slightly nervous, his wings arched a bit as if he wants to show them off but not be too obvious. He smiles at the...well...mirror. Fingers clenching a little bit.

When he speaks, though, his voice is low and soothing; warm like honey and pleasant. As if he's happy to see you. And in a way, he is.

"Hello. It's nice to meet you all. My name is Aziraphale and I'm an Angel. Well... Principality if you want to be precise, but that doesn't particularly matter here. First of all, I want to thank everyone who helped me out the other day and apologize for being a bit short with them. This human body is a new thing for me and I rather fear I don't have the hang of it quite yet.

But, we're all a little out of our element here, aren't we? This is a new place for us. A new experience. And a battle we must fight for the good of others who need our help. And sometimes, we can feel stuck, trapped even-- For instance, my wings are rarely displayed and not precisely corporeal when they are. If I need to remove my coat, I can do so with ease. Now, unfortunately, they are as solid as the rest of me.

And yet..." He dips his head and there is a bit of a cheeky smile. "With a little Faith." He hopes. No! Believes! "We can perform miracles."

Then he closes his eyes and focuses, concentrates, believes with everything in him that he still has the capacity for this kind of faith, this kind of miracle. That he will be able to take off his clothes with no problems at all.

All at once he can feel something catch. Something bright and cool and refreshing flow through him and around him.

Anyone looking in would be able to see a faint white gold light beginning to shimmer around him, a wind stirring the curtains and his hair. Perhaps there is a faint vibration, for the mirror slips, so only his head and shoulders are in view. The light seems to flash around him and then--!

He can feel the coolness leave him slowly, like a wave pulling from shore. With a thrilled smile he looks down and notices he did indeed manage to remove his coat as he'd hoped. Or perhaps made it disappear completely. As well as his vest, his shirt, his undershirt-- in fact the only thing left is the fob watch lying helpfully between his bare feet.

"Ah-- Ahem. Well! Slight miscalculation! But as you can see! Everything is just...just tickety...." And then the cold rushes back at once like a tsunami and for the second time in as many days, darkness crashes through him and he pitches forward and out of view.

There is a faint thud as he hits the floor.

But he'll be able to reply to any and all responses in a few hours...

...Probably.

Comments

[beancounter]

Fenton was listening, and nodding along. A little pep talk is perhaps just what everyone could use right about now. He was watching with interest as the guy attempted magic, wondering just what the guy was attempting. And then...

...well, that didn't go well. Fenton winced as the guy swooned and collapsed onto the floor. That sounded like it hurt.

"Ahh... I take it that didn't go to plan. You okay, there? Hello..?"

[blessedarethebookmakers]

It takes him several hours to respond as he was passed out and happily sleeping, but now he is awake and looking quite pleased with himself.

"Yes, hello! I'm quite alright, thank you. Not even a bruise." Anywhere he wants to talk about. "It did and it didn't. Rather like a genie wish in a way." A faint smile. "How have you been getting on? Practiced any miracles yourself?" Alright, he knows it's magic. But miracles just sound better to him. More refined.

[beancounter]

"Oh! You're awake now." He figured that the guy must have been knocked out, or maybe just too embarassed to immediately reply. "Glad to see you're okay now. You must've had a lucky fall, not to get hurt."

"Miracles...? I can't perform mira-- oh! You mean magic. Ahhh, no. No practicing yet. I don't know how to start."

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"I suppose I must have. I don't remember much of it." Which is probably good everything considered. "And that's simple. Miracles, or magic, are all based on change. On creating something that wasn't there before whether it be an object or a circumstance. It can be as simple as heating up a pot of tea."

[beancounter]

"Change, huh?" Creating something out of nothing? "Heating up a pot of tea... changing cold water to hot water." He scratched the back of his neck. "I get what you're going for, but do you have any tips on how to actually DO it? Like, what do I say or do to get the water to get hot, or... ...is it as simple as just wishing it was that way?"

Surely it couldn't be THAT simple... right?

[blessedarethebookmakers]

"It takes a great deal of faith. You must believe yourself capable, as much as you are of snapping your fingers or whistling. The miracle, or magic, if you will, is just an extension of your natural self. It's a little more than just a wish. Or perhaps you could call it: 'wishing with confidence'." He chuckles.