(no subject)

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Date: October 31st, 1999
Setting: Tadfield Ballroom
Status: Public
Summary: Hallowe'en party. Costumes enforced.




"You really should have brought one," Aziraphale said admonishingly as he led Gabriel down the stairs towards the decorated lobby. "And watch that stair."

Earlier, while Aziraphale was still readying the final touches on his own costume (Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective, from one of his favourite novels by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. It was rather a lot of tweed), Gabriel had arrived.

Without a costume.

It was a good thing Crowley had left by this time, with only a mysterious comment about meeting the angel at the party later. Aziraphale suspected he hadn't bothered with a costume yet, and was hoping Adam wouldn't catch him.

After a few fussing moments, in which Gabriel maintained that he didn't really need a costume, as he could just take out his wings and leave it at that, and Aziraphale fussing and fretting, there was a Silence.

And then a Pop!

They both blinked at each other. Aziraphale's costume hadn't changed, but the other angel...

Gabriel was wearing a French maid outfit. One that was, as Aziraphale pointed out, eyes wide, far too short and really, were heels necessary? Then Gabriel yelped as he noticed his change in undergarments and they heard mild profanity as someone down the hall noticed the abrupt change, but Aziraphale was far too distracted calming the angel down to notice whom it could be.

It was quick to fix up Gabriel's new makeup - Adam couldn't quite manage to get the mascara on perfectly yet, and there were a few streaks as if someone mostly inexperienced had tried to do it.

"I did warn you," Aziraphale said again as they carefully navigated the next and last set of stairs, Gabriel's fingers clamped tightly on his arm.

"I didn't think I'd be forced into an apron," Gabriel said tightly.

"Well..." They entered the ballroom, and Aziraphale led Gabriel over to the nearest table. He said, "Ladies first," before he could stop himself, offering Gabriel a chair politely.

The other angel glared, a blush painting his cheeks quite fetchingly, and refused it, smoothing down the skirt. "How would I..."

"That is a very short dress, my dear," the angel said, and adjusted his pipe.

"I wonder where everyone else is."

Comments

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

The man in the rumpled trench coat came through the doors with a slightly apprehensive air, pale blue eyes sweeping the nearly-empty ballroom uncertainly. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered. "Are you sure he's gonna buy it?--" He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the angels in astonishment. "Oh dear Adam, is that Gabriel!?"

"Fuck if I know, I can't see a blessed thing," said his Armani-clad companion, sliding a pair of sunglasses down his nose to squint across the room, blinking serpentine yellow eyes as though they'd suffered some minor irritation.

A moment later his jaw dropped open, and stayed that way for several beats. Then he very deliberately slid the shades back into place. "Er. Yeah...that's, uh, that's him, all right..."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley ran his hands through his dark hair, smoothing it out automatically before he remembered his costume and mussed it, wincing as he did so, and tugged on his coat, which felt too long and too broad in the shoulders. He felt naked despite the several layers of clothing he was wearing, though he was nowhere near as exposed as Gabriel. What the hell was the archangel playing at? Crowley pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, hands barely shaking, and stared.

"I don't feel quite so bad about your idea anymore, John. I still feel like a complete tosser, but less of a utter pillock. Still, might as well do this right."

He lit the cigarette, took a drag, and sauntered over to the two angels with John, who if not quite sauntering, was at least managing to look a good bit more comfortable in the expensive suit than Crowley suspected he actually was.

"Gabriel, you're looking very recherche this evening, if I do say so myself. And Aziraphale. Books and tweed, how original. I would say that you should have tried that instead," he smirked, gesturing towards Gabriel's outfit, "but you hardly have the figure to pull it off."

Crowley put his hands in his pockets, leaving the cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips to match his carefully rumpled tie. This evening he was John Constantine, occultist.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Aziraphale turned and his cane cracked against Crowley's shin.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my dear," he said as Crowley hopped around, nursing his shin with a pained expression, "It slipped."

There was a pause as he surveyed their costumes, a bewildered John Constantine in an Armani suit and wearing very familiar sunglasses, and the bouncing Crowley in the trenchcoat.

The Casual Sex Trenchcoat.

There was a rather enjoyable pause in between that realization and Aziraphale remembering their ill-fated kiss, at which point the angel sighed and noticed Crowley's rather stubborn (now blue) glare.

"Dear me," Aziraphale said innocently, "I think you ought to at least try to act more like John if you're dressed like that." He pulled out his trusty magnifying glass, newly acquired, and held it up to Crowley. "No, you simply won't do. How difficult could it be? You're both, er... less than subtle. Oh, and do stop glaring at me like that, it's unbecoming."

reposted because I put it in the wrong place.

[electrictadpole.livejournal.com]

Newt and Anathema had turned a corner and caught sight of a group of angels. Newt had just opened his mouth to say hello when the air twisted and... things were different. There were some... extra high heels in the room. He blinked, goggled and turned to Anathema to avoid looking at fishnet stockings.

"Ana, what just ha-" and stopped short.

Pink. A lot of pink. Shiny pink. With, with sparkles and glitter and lace and...

Newt didn't know whether to faint or burst out laughing.

[barking-harry.livejournal.com]

"It's not too bad, really," said Harry, in what he desperately hoped was a sincere manner, as he and Draco walked into the ballroom together. "And it wouldn't be a costume party unless everybody was looking a bit silly. I mean, I certainly wouldn't normally go out dressed as a moose."

Draco merely looked down derisively at the frilly pink dress he was wearing, glowered and muttered something about sick, sadistic Ravenclaws and their depraved tricks.

Harry was about to attempt to say something soothing and placatory when he spotted a horrendous vision. Lacy red, black and purple off-the-shoulder mini-dresses teamed with four inch stilettos can generally only be carried off by a very small sub-section of the population; and Duke Ligur was not, in Harry's considered opinion, a member of such sub-section. "Well," he said, vaguely traumatised, yet quite unable to look away, "At least you don't look like that."

"Like what?" demanded Draco petulantly, still glaring down at his own ensemble.

Harry nodded in the infernal Duke's direction. "Like that."

Draco looked, before proceeding gape open mouthed at Ligur's attire. "That's even worse than MacNair in drag."

"Who in drag?"

"Er, never mind. Just somebody I used to know."

"Oh." Harry made a sypathetic gesture. Draco had clearly encountered many unsavoury sorts in his life before the Manor. "Do you think we should go and get some drinks?"

[barking-draco.livejournal.com]

Seeing Ligur in a lacy red, black, and purple off the shoulder mini-dress was just the shock that Draco needed to regain his wits. As long as he didn't look like that, he shouldn't count the evening as lost. The frilly pink dress took some getting used to, but it certainly did show off his slim figure. Draco looked over at Potter, wearing fake moose antlers and an anxious expression, and smiled warmly. The evening definitely shouldn't be counted as lost. "Yes, I'd like some drinks," he said, deciding at the last moment not to offer his arm.

[barking-harry.livejournal.com]

Harry smiled with relief. The thought of spending the evening with a sullen and withdrawn Princess Draco hadn't been a pleasant one.

As they walked towards the table bearing refreshments Harry noticed the young blood-covered woman he'd seen hanging around with Adam scream and collapse, he got the distinct impression that Duke Ligur's attire may have been a causal factor. The drinks arrayed on the table turned out to be many and various: from what looked like coca-cola to pint glasses containing a viscous red substance, which Harry really didn't particularly want to speculate about.

"You get some very strange people around here, don't you?" he commented, as he picked up a glass of what he hoped was champagne. "I mean Duke Ligur's very, well, weird, and so's Ms. Lovegood in a less threatening way. And that poor girl who's drenched in blood all of the time often seems very distressed."

[radishesncorks.livejournal.com]

"Hi." said Luna brightly to the boy man male person standing next to her in what persumably was the ballroom. He was wearing a rather nice dress, which she duly commented on. "Nice dress. I don't think we've been introduced before though. My name's Luna." She held out a gauntled hand.

[dearwensleydale.livejournal.com]

"Excuse me?" Wensley blinked, highly affronted. "I am not wearing a..." He blinked again, and looked down.

"Oh. I am wearing a dress." For a second he tried to imagine why Adam would dress him like this, but shrugged it off for the moment. "It is rather nice, isn't it?"

"Jeremy Wensleydale," he replied, lifted her hand and kissing it.* "I haven't seen you here, either. I like your costume as well. Isn't the armour heavy, though?"

*He was trying to look chivalrous, but instead ended up looking rather awkward. It also had the unfortunate taste of iron in his mouth the rest of the night.

[average-adam.livejournal.com]

Adam surveyed the room happily. It looked rather jolly, he thought, and there were a few smiles here and there. He enjoyed looking at everyone in their costumes and it made him feel slightly less self conscious in his own rather snug Superman one.

There did seem to be a minor disturbance near where Crowley was standing, but then there nearly always was, so Adam ignored it for the moment. He did have to suppress a grin, though, when he saw the demon in the battered trench coat and the occultist in Armani. There was something incredibly funny about the idea of a blonde Crowley. Fortunately, his brain, functioning in self-defense mode, did not allow his eyes to linger on the spectre they were speaking with. Some things are just too horrible to contemplate safely. Shaking his head, he turned to his date for the evening.

"Carrie, you look real nice tonight. What do you think of it all?"

[carrietta.livejournal.com]

Carrie blushed and giggled, trying to make certain her eyes stayed in contact with Adam's eyes and not his groin. She looked away from him and glanced around the party.

"Aw, thanks Adam. Yeah, it's great, ev'ryone seems really hap . . ."

Her eyes alighted on Ligur.

"Oh sweet Jesus it's HORRIBLE! MY EYES ARE BURNING! MY EYES ARE BURNING!"

Carrie dropped to the floor, or rather to slightly above the floor, curled into a foetal position and segued swiftly into a flashback. Flashbacks to The Closet were not nice, but she'd had so many they weren't anything like as frightening as they used to be, and they were certainly preferable to seeing Duke Ligur in drag. She twitched and whimpered a little, hoping that by the time she reached here-and-now again, the horrible sight would be gone.

[angsty-death.livejournal.com]

Not wanting to posture, but not wanting to seem desperate either, Death arrived at the ballroom exactly three minutes after the correct time dressed all his neon pink and green duct taped glory. As he walked in the Death of Rats, dressed as a pig, SQUEAKED encouragingly.

Looking around for Pestilence, he spotted several beings drifting into the room, including the bloodstained ghost of a young girl. He remembered her vaguely from a couple of years back, (her death wasn't the kind that faded from memory quickly) and felt slightly sorry that she wasn't able to reach her afterlife.

Even though Death knew what was going to happen, (as he almost always did) he couldn't help being somewhat shocked at the sight of the two male shaped beings wearing flamboyantly short dresses. Death was thankful that his face never changed it's expression, as he wasn't sure his expression of horror would be good for his reputation.

A part of him wanted to record these immortals looking and acting like fools and embarrass them at a time when they were more in their own minds.* Shaking the childish though immediately, he walked over to where the drink were and sat down, waiting for his partner.

*Oh, the horrible, horrible irony.

[roadkill-god.livejournal.com]

Horus didn't even notice his costume, what there was of it anyway, in his shock at somehow being transported inside the mansion. It didn't even register immediately that a moment ago he had been a hawk. He backed into a corner looking frantically for an exit or, barring that, anyone familiar.

[angsty-death.livejournal.com]

Though he wouldn't admit it, Death was very old fashioned. Being fashionably late was one thing, but around twenty minutes had passed, and Pestilence had still not shown. It was too bad, Death was looking foward to catching up with him.

He spotted a dark young man looking as nervous as if he had being cornered by enemies. Death got out of his chair lumbered over to him, pieces of duct tape falling at random intervals.

EXCUSE ME, ARE YOU LOST? he asked.

[corroded-crown.livejournal.com]

Mr. White was some what surprised to find himself in the costume of an Indian brave, though outward appearances weren't telling. It was hard to tell he felt about this new revelation. He smoothed his hands down the soft pants and smiled faintly upon finding the beads and fibers stuck together with some sort of gunk after his fingers past. His feather drooped and dripped a bit of oil onto the floor. Though it had only been on him for a few moments, the boy's affect on his clothing was already beginning to show. His smile faded, but the pleased feeling stayed.

Though he felt better in the clothing, even Whitey had trouble deciding how he felt about his 'date' with War. She was... very overpowering. Though that probably came with the job. But even still, he slid over to wall and waited outside the circle of people around him, waiting for her and half hoping that she would get distracted or forget or some other such thing. In the mean time, his eyes glanced over to the drinks someone was drinking.

Without even really meaning to, but certainly not stopping himself, the drinks became just a little bit more potent. Polluting the human body was really the same as polluting the environment that they lived in. As long as something got down and dirty. A happy sigh passed his lips as he watched who ever it was he had polluted, waiting to see their inevitable reaction.

((*is amused by my accidentally-posting-in-the-wrong-place-ness* Whoops XD))

[polldancer.livejournal.com]

Famine's wanderings through the manor eventually led him to the ballroom, where he was somewhat surprised to find a costume party taking place. It took him a moment to realize what day it was, when you are an immortal personification time does not mean all that much after all, but when he recalled it was Halloween he understood. He entered the ballroom and picked up a drink as he looked around, his features not revealing his surprise that all of the party-goers were angels and demons. Having realized this, he was less surprised to notice pockets of discord sprinkled across the room, no gathering of angels and demons could be without a bit of saber-rattling, or flaming-sword-rattling as the case may be. He almost missed the small figure off to the side, Pollution was making more of an effort to remain unnoticable than normal. He picked up another drink and slid around the edge of the crowd to Pollution and leaned against the wall next to him.

He nodded in greeting and offered Pollution the other drink. "White." He looked his companion over and smiled slightly in amusion. "...Nice costume."

[entropyoptimism.livejournal.com]

"Yo-ho-ho and a tumpty tum tum" Destruction hummed as he slipped through the corridors towards the source of noise. Splendid, everyone seemed to be collected in one space.

Another turn and, yes... he opened the door and entered. A grin spread across his face as he surveyed the room. Oh, what a merry crowd is this!, he thought manically, and suddenly had always been carrying a sketch-pad. There was a pouch on his belt ful of pencils and things.

"Hello? They've started the party without me! Am I on before or after the clowns?" He called out to nobody in particular.

[dangeroushabits.livejournal.com]

John turned from his amused, but slightly apprehensive contemplation of the neon-duct-taped scarecrow flailing its arms at an agitated crow in the corner (there was something disturbingly familiar about that first figure, but he couldn't quite nail down what it was) and grinned at the jaunty figure who'd just strolled in.

He didn't look familiar, but his pronounced lack of discomfort in a room crowded with powerful supernatural creatures marked him as either a colleague or something Other Than Human. Given the Manor's history thus far, John was betting on the latter. He looked like the type who could kick back and relax over a good brew, though, which automatically earned him a certain consideration in John's eyes.

"No clowns yet, squire," he called, ambling in the newcomer's direction, once again privately cursing the lack of cigarettes or pockets. "Not as intended it, anyway," he added with a gleefully malicious glance in Ligur's direction. "Haven't seen you around the Manor before. Lookin' for Himself, are you?"

Hope to G- this is where I'm supposed to post

[stds-r-4-lovers.livejournal.com]

Pestilence was quite surprised when his clothes disappeared and a sexy nurse’s costume appeared in their place. It was just one of those things that he would never have guessed would happen twice in his existence.
It made him remember how much he missed WWII field hospital parties.
To be honest, he had been looking forward to the ball all day. He had even made potato salad for the event. Everyone liked potato salad, he reasoned. Creamy and good. As long as it didn‘t sit out too long, that is.
It was because of the potato salad that he was woefully late. It had taken him forever to boil the potatoes, mostly because he had this unnatural fear of boiling water. He hoped he hadn’t missed too much.
He stepped into the ballroom and adjusted his garter belt as discreetly as he could, looking around for his date.

[average-adam.livejournal.com]

Adam looked up when Pestilence entered the room. He grinned at the being's costume, but his smile promptly fell again when he saw what the "nurse" was carrying.

Can't blame him for bein' what he is, he thought, but it didn't stop him from removing all the food-bourne bacteria from the potato salad. No point in getting everyone sick after all.

Adam scanned the room looking for a mass of tape. He hoped Death would find his date soon and possibly distract him from infecting the humans at the party. It had worked for Famine and Pollution after all.

Re: Hope to G- this is where I'm supposed to post

[angsty-death.livejournal.com]

Death gave up trying to save the remnants of his costume, letting more scraps fall to the ground, and looked up to see yet another male shaped being in a short, tight dress. Adam was certainly a perverted one.

ER. HELLO, PESTILENCE, said Death eloquently. It was slightly uncomfortable moment, as Death felt a bit guilty for not visiting his old colleague for a long time. But seeing him now, Death realized that he missed Pestilence a great deal, and wished that they could be meeting under less humiliating circumstances.

YOU'RE... YOU'RE..., said Death, fishing for something to say.

YOU'RE LATE, he finished lamely.

[whatamigoodfor.livejournal.com]

War didn't usually have to enter anywhere unnoticed, but tonight she slinked into the ballroom at her leisure, almost stealthily. Nonetheless, she hadn't been there for more than a moment before a distinct pop sounded and she found her usual clothes replaced by a flowing saffron robe, her hair bound and knotted on top of her head, and a cushion strapped to her stomach.

She growled. "Has it really got to be Buddha?"

[average-adam.livejournal.com]

Adam did notice War walk into the room but after seeing her expression, he decided that this time discretion might be the better part of valour and stayed away.

However he didn't want her to be stuck there alone, either. Her partner for the evening had left with someone else and the other two horsemen seemed rather involved in their own conversation. Glancing around, he saw only one other person whose date had disappeared. What was even better, he and she had already met.

Hoping that John and War would strike up a conversation, Adam turned back to his friends.

[archangel-mike.livejournal.com]

For a moment Michael just stood there on his place, trying to figure just how he had ended up there. Then he looked around, saw the people around him in the most unusual costumes, and blinked a couple of times. Glancing to his side, he saw what could only be Raphael -- his heart sped up a little even at the sight of him -- in something that the other archangel would have never worn on his own accord, and blinked again. And then he finally looked at himself. At his long, black hair, and the outfit he would have never even imagined himself wearing, never mind actually putting it on, and -- and just everything.
He blinked a couple of times more.
Then he said, forcing himself to stay calm and not summon a flaming sword into his hands (after all, he pretty much knew who was behind all of this, and it probably wouldn't be a good idea to rise a sword against Adam), "By everything that's holy and good, what in the name of all of Heaven just happened here?"
Perhaps somebody would answer. Perhaps Raphael would answer. And perhaps, just perhaps, his evening hadn't just been completely ruined.

[winged-healer.livejournal.com]

Raphael leaned against the wall, trying to be an unobtrusive as possible. Bad enough that the outfit was uncomfortable and far too... unusual... for his tastes, but he was in public in the sight of people whom he would much rather never see, let alone see him in such a condition.

He turned his head when he heard Michael speak.

"I believe this is Adam's idea of... fun," he said quietly.