Log, Ongoing

[saunturing-down.livejournal.com]

When; Feb 15th,around 1 PM ish
Rating Um...I'm thinking G for now, but possible subject to change
Characters; Crowley saunturing_down and Aziraphale wingedly
Summary; Crowley's introduction to the city.
Log;


Crowley was pissed. Where in the Hell had the Angel disappeared to? It was bothering him like nothing else, which was much more than he would ever like to admit to in all of his immortal existance.

The this fallen angel, who had not exactly fallen but had rather sauntered vaugly downward, was worried. Of course, Crowley had never worried before, so the emotion was a strange and foreign object to him, and one that he did not like. So here he sat in Aziraphale's empty bookstore, glaring at the wall across from him from behind his sunglasses.

He pushed himself to his feet and brought a cigarette up to his mouth, the thing lighting instantly. He breathed in the smoke, closing his eyes for a moment before breathing out. He frowned, golden eyes opening as the sound of water reached his ears.

And the cigarette promptly dropped from his limp fingers at the sight that met his eyes. He was...standing infront of a fountain. What the---?

Comments

[saunturing-down.livejournal.com]

Crowley had watched the angel get more and more drunk with increasing amusement as he drank himself into a similar stupor.

He couldn't help but smirk as the angel finally toppled off his chair and onto the floor. Something dimly in the back of his mind told him that Az had said something important, but he wasn't really concentrating on that right now. Especially when said angle was looking particularily ravishable right at that moment, all sprawled on the floor, his hair ruffled, glasses slightly askew, and those lovely dialated eyes.

Crowley opened his mouth slightly to run his teeth over his fangs before his yellow gaze turned predatory and a smirk affixed itself on his face as Aziraphale invited him to join him on the floor.

"Why not?" he stated, slipping off the chair and onto the floor, proping himself on his stomach and stretching like a cat, arching his back momentarily, before he relaxed, laying his chin on his folded arms.

"Mind if I ssssssssssssstretch my wings out?" he asked.

[wingedly.livejournal.com]

"Good," the angel confirmed once the object of his ever present and overwhelming desires proceeded to take a place upon the flooring next to him, which most certainly wasn’t of a rug material until a second ago. Looking pleased with his work even when considerably drunk, Az took a long dazed sort of glance over Crowley’s form stretched out before him longingly and utterly forgot to at least mask what he was doing, even out of propriety induced habit.

But such things were altogether lost when particularly intoxicated—and, truth be told, immortal beings such as themselves were prone to practice in the art of holding their liquor frequently—so he was able to drink his fill of the demon’s almost feline mannerisms to his lovely, delicious form. "Ah—" And he was purposefully hissing at him once more, wasn’t he? "—yes, do indulge." Propping himself upward while leaning back on his elbows to become more engrossed with the way in which his long time associate simply moved, Az felt more so than performed the careful, trembling, sexually alluring sort of stretch that his own white wings made from behind him which most certainly marked his apparent feelings upon the whole occurrence, at large. It was becoming rather difficult to breathe now strangely enough, a slight breeze ruffling the angel’s particularly chaotic golden curls, bringing to light those eyes that were so terribly fixated upon the demon as his lips parted slightly with a small and delicate "oh", everything beginning to fall into place.

"—my dear?"

[saunturing-down.livejournal.com]

Crowley was feeling particularily lazy right now. The alcohol in his system had mellowed him down, and he felt quite relaxed. He unfurrled his black wings, stretching them out before they came to rest along his back, and he let out a small sigh of contentment closing his eyes, therefore missing somewhat Aziraphales reactions. However, if he had been paying closer attention, he would've picked up on it sooner, but alas...

He cracked an eye open at Aziraphale's light "my dear?".

"Yesssss?" he asked, golden eyes obviously raking over the angel's rumpled appearance before they settled on his eyes and....those eyes. Blue blue blue and oh so pretty.

[wingedly.livejournal.com]

And then, he wasn’t precisely sure of what he had wanted to say, really. More so a wish to express a particular something to the demon in question without having to use words, but whatever that happened to be had yet to be detailed and neatly mapped out within the angel’s mind, just yet. So Aziraphale merely shrugged gently, a small playful smile crossing his lips as he watched Crowley albeit dazedly from the amount of alcohol already in his system and murmured a "I’ve seem to forgotten" in a somewhat apologetic tone, before laying back down upon the floor.

Clearly amused though a great deal exhausted from the past few days events, the angel stretched out upon the rug with his back arching just slightly, emitting a soft sigh in the process and relaxing his muscles once more, far too dizzy to properly handle a bottle in order to drink anymore, which normally tells one that they’ve had too much.

A very white feather had somehow found its way upon the floor next to him, and the angel was watching it with an idle gaze before picking it up between his index and forefinger, intrigued. "You’re far away, my dear—" Aziraphale commented quite offhandedly, watching as it became much too difficult to raise the hand that had held the feather up for a long period of time.

[saunturing-down.livejournal.com]

Crowley's golden eyes closed as the angel murmerd an apology for having forgoten what he was going to say.

"Mn...not sssssssso far..." Crowley stated, feeling slightly muzzy from the alcohol in his system, but none the less, he cracked one yellow eye open and reached out, catching onto Aziraphale's wrist and drawing him closer. "There. Better." he stated. However, he did lift his head and open both eyes, brow drawing into a slight frown.

"Isssss there something wrong with your wingsssss?" he asked.

[wingedly.livejournal.com]

On any other occasion, Aziraphale would have made a halfway excuse to placate his colleague merely due to the fact that cherubs couldn’t precisely outright lie, though having a very drunk immortal being on one’s hand might change the situation quite a bit, indeed. Having proceeded to get rather violently comfortable when his wrist was tugged downward, the angel mumbled a pleased noise and simply lay sprawled out on the rug, breathing in an abrupt scent that was markedly the demon now that they were closer, though he could have recognized it within seconds at any other point. "Hm—?"

Blinking, he had to glance down in order to see Crowley while he inquired after his wings, and as if in an unknowing afterthought Aziraphale’s dilated cobalt eyes turned toward the white appendages, recalling how they’d been molting rapidly as of late. "Ah, they’ve been f—fuh—falling apart, my dear," he answered whilst finding it rather difficult to pronunciate, staring at the feather between his fingers idly and not exactly listening to the words coming out of his mouth, which was probably a bad thing.

[saunturing-down.livejournal.com]

Crowley was very near purring. Especially now that Aziraphale was a good deal more closer than he had been before, and it was rather pleasing to feel the delicious scent of the angel floating past his nose. It was something of a mix of light lavender, dusty books that nobody's opened for a century, and warm honey tea, if he was going to be poetic about it. Or, to put it simply, it was just Aziraphale.

He did frown however, wincing slightly as he forced some of the alcohol to leave his system so he could concentrate more on what the angel was saying. "Falling apart?" he asked. "Angel's wings don't just fall apart. They have a reasssssssson."