[ Annoyance is a small price to pay for another few seconds to breathe. Or in any event, annoyance is a currency they frequently trade in.
At least there's less the niggling worry about Crowley being unsteady on his feet. That's something. They're both too tired for all that. ]
If you're waiting to hear that you're funny, you'll be there until you grow roots.
[ Normally if he happens to be deeply upset about something he can sort of-- not do people. Hole up for a while in the middle of something familiar and well-loved and pull himself together.
Crowley is barely people after all this time, in a good way, but he's oftentimes in the category of company. People adjacent.
Aziraphale misses his shop. He's homesick for it in a way he's maybe never felt for Heaven, or not for a long while, especially as desire for comfort goes versus sources of strain.
Nothing to be done for that. No point dwelling. Better to rip off the bandage.
He leaves his tea in the kitchen. Very primly sits back down himself, hands folded. ]
You don't talk about Hell very much. We can start there. [ One of the ultimate in planted conversational seed backfires for resident demons.
Letting the hunger take the reins is actually sort of a nice way to not have to live in himself as much in this moment. If it weren't objectively awful and likely to leave him sick to his stomach, it might be worth keeping in the repertoire. ]
no subject
At least there's less the niggling worry about Crowley being unsteady on his feet. That's something. They're both too tired for all that. ]
If you're waiting to hear that you're funny, you'll be there until you grow roots.
[ Normally if he happens to be deeply upset about something he can sort of-- not do people. Hole up for a while in the middle of something familiar and well-loved and pull himself together.
Crowley is barely people after all this time, in a good way, but he's oftentimes in the category of company. People adjacent.
Aziraphale misses his shop. He's homesick for it in a way he's maybe never felt for Heaven, or not for a long while, especially as desire for comfort goes versus sources of strain.
Nothing to be done for that. No point dwelling. Better to rip off the bandage.
He leaves his tea in the kitchen. Very primly sits back down himself, hands folded. ]
You don't talk about Hell very much. We can start there. [ One of the ultimate in planted conversational seed backfires for resident demons.
Letting the hunger take the reins is actually sort of a nice way to not have to live in himself as much in this moment. If it weren't objectively awful and likely to leave him sick to his stomach, it might be worth keeping in the repertoire. ]