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Jul. 14th, 2005 01:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nnyThe world is doing the ficletty thing, and since I am obviously a minion of the Dark Lord of Sheep, or at least buy drinks from him, I feel obliged to take part. Ask for what you will and I'll write you something that's approximately 100 words.
Er... Limited milliways, Good Omens, Harry Potter, Good Omens, and if you can think of anything else you reckon I could do feel free to request that too.
I have nothing to do for the rest of today, so have at. XD
In other news, OMG so ill. My throat is like sandpaper and my nose is leaking. Gross gross gross. At least I'm better than yesterday, which involved laying on the sofa and groaning creakily. But high points were parental visit, graduation photoshoot (OMG never let Smaller near a camera. "Pensive, for this one! Ooh, now black and white! And your parents!" Soooo much photo.) Didn't fall over on the stage, for great yay, did get enormously hot, for great woe. Other high points were all the houmous, The Adventures of Robin Hood and 'fluently', and learning that I can do an excellent impression of a creaky door when my throat's in this state.
Er... Limited milliways, Good Omens, Harry Potter, Good Omens, and if you can think of anything else you reckon I could do feel free to request that too.
I have nothing to do for the rest of today, so have at. XD
In other news, OMG so ill. My throat is like sandpaper and my nose is leaking. Gross gross gross. At least I'm better than yesterday, which involved laying on the sofa and groaning creakily. But high points were parental visit, graduation photoshoot (OMG never let Smaller near a camera. "Pensive, for this one! Ooh, now black and white! And your parents!" Soooo much photo.) Didn't fall over on the stage, for great yay, did get enormously hot, for great woe. Other high points were all the houmous, The Adventures of Robin Hood and 'fluently', and learning that I can do an excellent impression of a creaky door when my throat's in this state.
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Date: 2005-07-14 05:53 am (UTC)I hope you feel better soon. Being sick in the summertime sucks the big one.
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Date: 2005-07-14 05:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 06:07 am (UTC)Also! *HUGS* I am sorry you're feeling poorly, lovely. And I will request a drabble when I can think straight. Soooo tired.
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Date: 2005-07-14 05:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 08:22 am (UTC)He'd been everywhere, and done everything, and the sunglasses and the sartorial choices in terms of colour were rarely terribly inventive but the personalities and languages and associates he kept company with were as easily shrugged off as water off a duck's back.
Crowley Knew Languages.
Aziraphale knew languages as well, of course, but he'd never been particularly good at picking up the nuances, the accents and the slang and the... whatever it was that made someone fit in. He could communicate with people wherever he went, but there was something so inherently English about him, no matter the background to his interactions.
It seemed to work, though.
The kind of people Crowley worked with liked someone who knew what they were doing, someone who knew how to fit in. Someone who knew how to be invisible, when such a thing was required. Aziraphale, on the other hand, had always been more attractive to the sort who didn't quite fit in, people that were grateful that they weren't the only ones. He made people feel less alone.
So the angel wasn't particularly surprised when the young man in the rather too tight black t-shirt and black jeans, the carefully untidy hair and the ridiculously expensive sunglasses seemed to be on first name basis with the waiting staffat the little Italian café he'd chosen. He wasn't surprised either when something was called out that translated literally as rather an impolite epithet, and yet it resulted in a slap on the back and free drinks for the both of them.
He was, however, frankly astonished when Crowley carried a tray over to him with two cups, a small jug of milk, and a teapot.
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Date: 2005-07-14 08:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 09:31 am (UTC)Thankee klindly.
Aziraphale, on the other hand, had always been more attractive to the sort who didn't quite fit in, people that were grateful that they weren't the only ones. He made people feel less alone.
That's so Aziraphale.
(Of course if you're looking for something to kill time with, I wouldn't object to some Pepper and Crowley interaction. Or Pepper and Aziraphale, I'm not picky. ;-) )
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Date: 2005-07-14 06:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 06:02 am (UTC)*shouts after car, despite having two broken fingernails and a t-shirt with tyre tracks*
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Date: 2005-07-14 06:39 am (UTC)I am so nice.
Lucifer and Billy, a leather desk chair, and memories.
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Date: 2005-07-14 08:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 07:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 07:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 07:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 09:23 am (UTC)Adam was pouting. Aziraphael intensely disliked it when Adam pouted because it was a little more effective than other pouts - it being the antichrist, and so forth. On this matter, however, he was most certainly not budging.
"It is not a case of 'fair' or 'not fair', young man." He folded his arms and leaned against the table, frowning. "I simply can't countenance anything of the sort."
Adam glared at him.
"But it's like a set! You wouldn't want me to go short just 'cos of you being all jealous. I'm collecting!"
Adam's friend Brian, (who the angel had eventually managed to distract from his rampage around the bookshop with a small colouring book he'd found in a box, somewhere) chimed in cheerfully.
"Gotta catch 'em all, man."
"All what? And I protest the notion that I was in any way caught, unless it was 'by surprise'. I wouldn't have otherwise, and you know that."
Adam slammed the pot of glue he'd been using on the poor battered copy of 'The Vintner's Luck' onto the table with more force than necessary. Aziraphael sighed - he did so hate it when the boy sulked.
"Adam, you know that I like you happy, but I don't think it's really fair of you to ask for such a thing. If I had my way I'd be the only one who did it, so no. I won't permit you to kiss Crowley."
There was a startled noise from the doorway and Aziraphael turned to see the demon, baggy pyjama trousers hanging off his hips, hair more than usually tousled, a shocked expression on his face.
"...what?"
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Date: 2005-07-14 09:33 am (UTC)Really.
*bounce*
*reads again*
*dies*
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Date: 2005-07-14 09:59 am (UTC)*misses Crowley* XD
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Date: 2005-07-15 08:35 am (UTC)*loves*
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Date: 2005-07-14 07:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 07:59 am (UTC)WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME? EVOL BOY.
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Date: 2005-07-14 08:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 08:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 10:14 am (UTC)He hurried over and caught the angel's arm, tugging him towards a pile of hay bales, trying to somehow indicate that they weren't together.
"Angel, I invited you to this thing out of the occasional and misguided goodness of my heart. Or some misplaced sense of social obligation. Or... maybe I had indigestion, I don't know."
"And it's much appreciated, my dear boy. I certainly never knew cars could be so exciting, and the cooing over your Bentley must be gratifying for you."
Crowley preened. "Well I do keep her pristine, you know, and... and that's not the point." He'd never needed sibilants, to hiss. "The point is that this is Goodwood. Those are cars. This is not bloody Ascot."
"I'm well aware of that, thank you."
"Then why in G- in He- why in blue bloody blazes are you wearing that hat (http://www.paulbettany.net/gallery/displayimage.php?album=random&cat=29&pos=-328)?"
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Date: 2005-07-14 10:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 10:26 am (UTC)For the record? Goodwood kinda rocks. XD
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Date: 2005-07-14 10:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 08:07 am (UTC)Um. . . Milliways. Something with Petunia.
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Date: 2005-07-14 06:04 pm (UTC)Because Lilly had had her magic and her friends, and perhaps there had been jealousy, but then there had been her sister's drawn face, white skin and hair that'd lost some of its colour (another thing to be jealous of) and Voldemort. It wasn't a name that she should ever have heard, wasn't a name that should cause a chill to run down her spine because she was a Muggle and damned proud of it, too. But she was scared, when it came to it.
And then Lilly was dead and it was beyond fear. Vernon was the safe choice because mixing with Them led to her sister looking strangely peaceful, in her coffin. Led to a nephew that could only draw attention so he was hidden. Mixing with Them was dangerous.
And Milliways was full of Them. Wands and staffs and gestures and a magical bar, even. Nowhere was safe of them, not even the lake. And yet... there was something. Something about the place. Something that felt a little bit like safety.
Maybe it was the normal people, the people like her. Maybe it was the way that anyone could talk to anyone else, and frequently did. Maybe it was... that for the first time, in this place, she was ready to make the choice that wasn't quite safe.
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Date: 2005-07-14 08:40 am (UTC)How about a Weasley family gathering of some kind- a wedding maybe?- with a prank from the twins and cake...
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Date: 2005-07-20 08:27 am (UTC)It was in the back garden of the Burrow, eventually. A marquee had been set up on the lawn - like any wizarding tent it was larger inside than out, and there was room enough and more for all the Order members, the school friends, Mme Olympe and Hagrid (who didn't quite manage subtlety, considering the size of them, and were most definitely holding hands), plus the various and sundry odd folks of Milliways who'd managed to get themselves to the wedding.
Gil had provided a beautiful cake, chocolate and rum, and more than one of the younger guests were going back for more, considering how well the drinks table was being guarded. Neville Longbottom was lying under one of the snowy-clothed tables, covered in chocolate and singing a song about hedgehogs which made Molly's lips go exceedingly thin.
Bill was looking serene and cheerful, suiting a bow tie just as well as a dragonhide jacket, having refused to remove his earring despite Molly's best effort. Charlie, standing beside him, looked rather more uncomfortable in the formalwear, and had already removed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves, revealing a couple of shiny burn scars and fresh toothmarks.
And the bride looked beautiful. Stunning. Several of the male guests had, in fact, gone more than a little misty-eyed, and didn't seem to share the opinion of the female guests that a bride's dress should have a little more... substance to it, perhaps.
It was a beautiful day. They were even able to overlook when Severus Snape, glowering in a corner, accepted a plate from Fred and nibbled, sour-faced, promptly turning into a large cheerfully coloured canary.
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Date: 2005-07-20 09:45 am (UTC)Thank you. This is lovely and well worth the wait :)
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Date: 2005-07-14 09:14 am (UTC)One, something with Aziraphael/Crowley, out by the lake, with the new ducks.
Two, something with Aziraphael and Susan.
:) *hugs and sends tea*
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Date: 2005-07-20 10:38 am (UTC)"You're looking wonderfully pretty today, my dear."
She blushes and twirls shyly, the skirts of her pale blue dress whirling out about her.
"You needn't say so, sai Aziraphael."
"I needn't, but it's true." He leans a little closer and lowers his voice, conspiratorially, squeezing her hand briefly. "And thank you for looking after Crowley, for me. It's very much appreciated, because I have no idea what kind of mischief he could get up to without my eye on him."
She looks up at him, straight-faced, her eyes dancing.
"He was trying to think of trouble to cause, say true, but I told him ye'd be disappointed."
He bends to kiss her lightly on the cheek.
"You did well, my dear. Excellent minder. But I believe there's a young man called Cuthbert looking for you, so I would suggest you make haste back to the party." She's beautiful when she smiles so widely. He watches her hurry back around the lake shore, a gentle smile on his face, and then walks over to join Crowley.
"John and Hestia?"
He's momentarily befuddled, and then he sees the direction of Crowley's gaze - the ducks appear to have made a nest, and there're two eggs just barely visible under Hestia.
"Is there something wrong with that?"
"You just have the weirdest taste in names of any being I've come across, angel."
Aziraphael bristles slightly.
"If that's a backhanded comment about Ezra, my dear..."
"I think you know me enough to know that if I had something to say, I'd say it. 'Ezra' suits you. It's weird and old fashioned."
A variety of expressions pass across Aziraphael's face, and he's about to settle on 'offended' when gentle fingers curl around his. He settles for a poorly concealed smile, instead.
"Might I ask why you prefer the company of ducks to the assembled masses of Tonks-Wrangle friends?"
Crowley shrugs, his shoulder bumping gently against Aziraphael's. The angel's not sure precisely when they stepped so close to each other - it's like they don't have personal space, any more. It's always a gentle insinuation, a gradual closeness that feels so right that it's barely noticed, but always appreciated.
"I don't know. It's still a bit of a culture shock. Not used to people. It's too much."
Aziraphael looks at the side of his face, a little worried.
"I can leave you be, if you'd rather?"
Crowley just pulls him a little closer, sliding an arm around his waist under his jacket, casual movement that still makes him blush, slightly - he loves the ease of it.
"Not you. Ass."
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Date: 2005-07-20 10:51 am (UTC)I love. So much love. *glomps and hugs*
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Date: 2005-07-14 09:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 09:54 am (UTC)The angel smiled at him, and finished unbuttoning his tweed jacket, slinging it over his arm. His shirt was blindingly white in the alley, shadowed between two buildings even on such a summery day.
"I don't know, Crowley. I suspect I'd muddle through. You didn't have to be quite so strident with the policemen, you know. They were just doing their jobs."
"And for that matter, a little bloody gratitude wouldn't go amiss."
Aziraphale turned, and smiled, and patted him on the cheek. And Crowley was grateful for sunglasses and half-darkness because it was easier to hide what even the simplest of gestures could do to him.
"Thank you, Crowley. Even though I suspect I would have gotten away with it, you know. I wasn't so much vandalising as correcting."
The demon glared at the wall, which now sported such legends as Baz
wozwaserehere, '05 and Adrianizzais a Wanker."Yeah, well," he mumbled.
"I am grateful, dear boy." Aziraphale walked to the entrance of the alley, and then turned to look back at him, haloed by the bright sunlight. "What do you say I buy you a cup of tea and a bun?"
Crowley rolled his eyes, and followed him out.
A little inspired by this picture (http://www.hawksong.com/~rahalia/bettany/paulwimjap01.png).
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Date: 2005-07-14 10:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 10:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 10:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 01:31 pm (UTC)Or, y'know, whatever you like. :D
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Date: 2005-07-14 01:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 01:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 02:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 03:23 pm (UTC)Pretty please?
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Date: 2005-07-14 07:09 pm (UTC)*
André generally sleeps well.
Sooner or later you get used to the sirens and the drunks, and maybe people 'round here spend too much time trying to break into cars but there's always someone who knows how to disable an alarm. They can break all the rules they like, so long as they do it quietly.
He's not always been this good at dividing things up in his head. Still isn't, not when it's important, not when something about a case catches in his head and twists in his stomach. Those're the nights he can't sleep, when he sits on the narrow windowsill and leans against the glass and watches the flickers of neon fracture in raindrops.
Rain always reminds him of home.
But there're new things, now. New reasons not to sleep, new reasons to pace the floor and flex his fingers and wish he'd not sold his keyboard. He's got a battered piano that's falling apart but perfectly tuned, but not at two in the morning. They can sleep through howled Bon Jovi from the streets below but a second or two of Rachmaninov and there're death threats through the walls.
He's using the time to teach himself guitar.
His fingers're long enough, agile enough, strong enough, sure. It's his wrists that protest, curled strangely on themselves. It's his fingertips, new calluses forming and catching and bleeding, plasters that slip on ivory and make everything a little bit more of a challenge, but he's proud of it all the same. It's something he never got pushed into by his parents. It's something he never shared with her. It's something that's new, same way that he is, now.
He plucks idle tunes, unwritten and shapeless and almost unheard against the noise of the city, playing to the gentle drum of the rain.
*
Um. So that wasn't Skazz/André. *laughs* I'll write another one in a second, but I like this too much to delete it, now. I guess you'll just have to settle for two.
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Date: 2005-07-14 11:28 pm (UTC)And I would mind two why, exactly?
Lovely, Nny. I adore Andre far, far too much.
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Date: 2005-07-14 03:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-14 09:43 pm (UTC)*cackles with evil glee*