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Aug. 7th, 2006 12:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nnyI just decided I want to write Martin Blank with a contract on Crowley.
It probably won't ever get written, I just thought I should notify the world.
It probably won't ever get written, I just thought I should notify the world.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2006-08-07 11:42 am (UTC)Ooooor you could comment-drabble it for me. And then make a request. I am in a writing mood.
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Date: 2006-08-07 11:55 am (UTC)Martin reached down slowly for his ankle holster, raising his head fractionally to take a look over the counter and the guy was right there looking at him. He barely swallowed the bray of nervous laughter that was threatening, managing to turn it into a grin.
It was kind of unprofessional, wanting to call your therapist mid-job.
"Hi."
The mark smiled, and what was with the sunglasses thing? The sunglasses inside thing? That was his look, dammit.
"So, er. What is it you do?" He placed his hands on the counter and slowly stood; the element of surprise was long gone, and it wasn't as though he had a gun pointed at him or anything. Improvisation, thinking on your feet - always easier when actually on your - yeah.
"I mean, someone wants to kill you for something. Politics, terrorism, professional killing, what?"
The guy - Crowley - tilted his sunglasses a little way down his nose.
"Demon."
"...huh." Suppressing fear was something you learned to do. "So, you get dental?"
And I want something with Aziraphale. I'm not picky what. :D
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Date: 2006-08-07 12:13 pm (UTC)*coughs* (http://tictock.livejournal.com/profile)
This is a scene I've been meaning to write for a while, part of my epic GO fic which I Am Going To Finish One Day, No, Really:
Aziraphale found that his hand was pressed over his mouth, and he hastily removed it. The stink of charred leather and steel was dissipating quickly, being replaced by the chill floral scent of Heaven, but the image of Azrael's burning skeleton was refusing to leave his mind with the same swiftness.
"There should. I mean, there is purpose. To everything. What..."
The Metatron looked away. "Impartiality cannot be forgiven. Forget him. He is the shadow."
Those black wings. Aziraphale almost flinched. "Of what?"
"Of everything."
"But why -" and the angel swallowed, not liking the taste of the questions in his mouth. He had a feeling that he wasn't supposed to be questioning, not this early in the game. He had a feeling that it wasn't supposed to be a game at all. "Why send them? Why not send something good, something helpful?"
The Metatron looked at the horizon. He didn't speak for a long time. "This is how the design is to be tested," he said eventually. "If humans choose correctly, then they should be able to make their own goodness and their own hope. If they live the right way and make the right choices they will triumph over these four, in the end."
"The end?" Aziraphale said, not saying: but it’s only just begun.
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Date: 2006-08-07 12:19 pm (UTC):D!
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Date: 2006-08-07 12:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-07 12:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-07 12:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-07 12:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-07 01:09 pm (UTC)I so need to see that movie again. *adds to list*
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Date: 2006-08-08 09:53 pm (UTC)