(no subject)

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Date: May, 2000
Setting: Manor Grounds
Status: Public
Summary: A General Announcement and a meeting.



There had been a sign Aziraphale had sellotaped to the edge of his desk a few days ago, since his conversation with Hermes. It was simple, and drew a few questions, but Aziraphale rather liked it. It read:


Mr. Fell's Storytime. Come one, come all!
Saturday after tea.


It made him feel like one of the readers from that show, Jackanory. Except Aziraphale was rather grateful he didn't resemble Prince Charles or the like.

It was now three o'clock and he was sitting in the library, a large, weathered book open in his lap. He had his glasses on, sliding as they were, and a glass of water sat on a coaster within arm's reach. There were pillows strewed about in the small space in front of him, and the bookshelves stretched back. Aziraphale stroked his chin, deep in thought, as he mouthed the words of the next passage.

"Never was the dawn so beautiful," he said to himself, tapping the page. He was so wrapped up in the text and the elaborate illustrations he hadn't noticed the newcomer.

Comments

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

Uriel had not come to the library for the reading session. In fact, she hadn't even seen the sign, as she hadn't been to the lobby at all during the last few days. She hadn't exactly been seeking out other people, because that would lead to them noticing her newly female appearance, which would lead to questions. And questions might lead to her not being able to come up with acceptable answers. She was imaginative, yes, but she simply could not lie.

No, she had simply gone to check if the library had any books on pregnancy -- reading things from books was, after all, her favourite way of learning new information. She hadn't counted on the library being already occupied when she got there.

"Oh, Aziraphale," she said softly as she noticed the other angel. "Good afternoon. I'm not disturbing you or anything, am I? I can leave if you'd rather be alone." She doubted she could take a single book from the shelf without Aziraphale noticing just what she was interested in, and that would lead to even more awkward questions than her being suddenly female and smaller than even Raphael.

(sorry about npc, but none of my other characters could come)

[no-npc-here.livejournal.com]

Mr. Sniffles, with the Mrs. and all the rest of the baby Sniffles (holding hands, no one was getting misplaced this time) headed towards the library. Mr. S. had been promising them all an adventure and when he had seen the notice in the front hall, he had seen the perfect opportunity.

Settling themselves on the bookshelf with the globe, he settled the kids and made sure everyone had a juice-pack before the angel started to read.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley had scowled when he saw the notice and tried to ignore the stab of jealousy. He liked it when Aziraphale read to him and didn't want to share the experience, but when it was clear that he had no choice in the matter, he decided to attend. Not wanting anyone to know that he was there listening to his partner's softly carrying voice, he lurked expertly in the stacks and kept an eye on who appeared.

[diaktoros.livejournal.com]

Hermes had evidentally been out doing some shopping*, because he bounded in next, wearing a form-fitting shirt, which showed that his jeans fit like a glove**. He looked dressed for a date, and sat on the closest pillow to Azi in about three seconds, looking up at him adoringly.

If it hadn't been obvious before, it was now: Hermes was utterly, completely sweet on the Principality.

______________
* Which, for Hermes, probably meant stealing, and probably included fun and ridiculous things like black bodysuits, droplines, and putting postage stamps on the lenses of security cameras.

** Of course, they were is Favourite Jeans, and as we all know, FJs always fit like a glove and have at least ten holes. They are also that particular shade of blue that only comes after eight million and sixty-two washings. On the perma press cycle.

[chantinellie.livejournal.com]

Ellie slipped into the room a few moments later, smiling slightly when she saw the peculiar little audience Aziraphale had already collected. The smile faded a bit when she'd got a good look at Hermes, however--more specifically, the look of starry-eyed adoration on Hermes' face as he gazed at the angel.

Oh dear. This bodes ill, she thought, observing that Aziraphale didn't seem to have noticed. Typical. She was fairly sure that someone else was going to, though.

After a moment's hesitation--this move was guaranteed to draw attention, something she usually tried to avoid--she went to a spot on the angel's opposite side, tugging another pillow a bit closer so it was more or less directly across from Hermes, and curled up on it like some big cat settling into its favorite snoozing spot on a warm afternoon.

The predatory implications were not altogether unintended. Hermes had wandered into more dangerous territory than he could know, and if Crowley wasn't around to bring this fact to his attention then someone else had better do it before things got too far out of hand.

The fact that the hapless god had also swiped what Ellie considered her storytime spot had, of course, absolutely nothing to do with it.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

He had waited long enough. After all, no one should be kept from their supper, and he would hate to run too late.

"For anyone who's present today for my storytelling," Aziraphale began, touching his glasses nervously despite the steadiness and clarity of his voice, "I'm ready to begin. Thank you for coming," he added, nearly forgetting his manners.

He glanced down at the cover, smiling faintly. "I chose a book of folk and fairytales, and from that book I found a story called, The Aztec Sun. And without further delay - are you certain you're all comfortable? - I'll launch right in."

The angel assumed his storytelling voice as he spoke, measured and thoughtful words, gentle and strong by turns. He loved reading books (albeit it was usually quite silently) and he loved listening to himself, although he'd never admit that to Crowley.


"Before the Sun that now shines brightly over Mexico came into being, there had been other suns; four in all. Each died away in turn before our present Sun appeared." A beat.

"The fourth Sun, Chalchuitlicu, had been a water goddess, copper-coloured and dressed in emerald green. For hundreds of years she provided light and warmth; and in that time the first men and women appeared on Earth. But other gods grew jealous of the Sun God; some reproached her for giving fire to humans - for they did not always use it wisely." (Prometheus, the Inquisition, and my bookshop, Aziraphale agreed silently.)

"One night, the black God of Darkness," he continued, "began to torment the gentle copper Sun, saying that she had grown too vain and selfish. At this, Chalchuitlicu burst into tears and lost control of the waters thus released. The tears put our her light and then the sky rained down upon the earth in torrents.

"The land vanished into darkness beneath a mighty flood which drowned all human life: every man and woman turned into fish; all, that is, save one lone family which survived to start the human race again."


Aziraphale peered over the tops of his glasses to see who was smirking at the similarity of the story.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

The storyteller noticed nothing, not the newcomer or anyone, really. He began again, low but clear, his very British voice enunciating his words brilliantly. He sounded like one of those grandfather storyteller figures.

It was extraordinarily contrasting to his appearance (if not his clothing).

"When the sky thus fell on Earth, the gods opened up four roads beneath the land, where they created four giants and some sturdy trees. And then together - the gods, the trees, the giants - all tried to lift the Earth from under the vales of tears. They heaved and pushed until the land rose upwards and all the water fell away. At last they managed to fasten the land securely to the sky.

"But the Earth was still plunged in utter gloom; it had no dawn, no dusk, no sunlit days. The vales of tears were salty, there was thus no fresh water, for no Sun appeared to draw the tears back up to heaven and change them into rain.

"It was then that the gods resolved to give the world a fifth and final Sun. They argued loud and long, but eventually it was decreed: There had to be a Sun.

"And there must be moonlight while the Sun is at rest.

"But who would do the job?

"After all, the first four Suns had died away. The gods ordained a sacrifice: whoever volunteered would not live to see themselves as Sun or Moon, but would have to change their form so that the Sun and Moon could last forever.

"Only one god came forward," and here Aziraphale looked up, apologetic as he attempted the next word. The language of the Aztecs were not quite his specialty, and while he had approved of cocoa he rather disliked the sacrificing to the gods aspect. "Tecuciztecatl, God of Snails and Worms. He was rich and strong and vain. He thought by sacrificing himself he would gain immortal glory. He wished therefore to be the Sun.

"No one else was willing. Uneasily, the gods looked around them; there had to be a second sacrifice to make the Sun and the Moon. Their gaze fell at last upon a humble goddess in their midst: Little Nana, the unsightly one. If she agreed, the gods declared, they would transform her body.

"Poor Nana did not want to die. Yet she smiled gently when they told her she might light up and warm the Earth; for she might help little children not yet born.

"The gods began their preparations. Two tall stone altars were erected: one for the Sun, one for the Moon - though which was which had yet to be agreed. Both sacrifices were bathed and dressed in their own way.

"The God of Snails and Worms put on a fine plumage and brightly-coloured robes, earrings of tourquoise and jade, and a collar of shining gold.

"Little Nana had no such finery. So she daubed her red-raw body white and donned a thin, torn paper dress. That was all."

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"Meanwhile, beneath the altars, the gods had built a sacrifical pyre. So many logs of wood were heaped upon it that the heavens seemed to light up in the roaring blaze. At this sight, the God of Snails trembled in fear and bit his lip; yet Little Nana sat quietly by, her hands folded in her lap.

Tecuciztecatl was honoured to be the first to leap into the flames. At the gods' command, he drew near the pyre..."

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"Tecuciztecatl stood tall and grand upon his pillar of white stone, his plume of red and green and yellow streaming in the breeze. But his courage failed him and he drew back abruptly, pale and trembling. Three times he was summoned, and three times he nervously stepped back."

Aziraphale didn't blame him. The story, however...

"The gods finally lost patience and turned to Little Nana, crying, 'Jump!'

"She stepped forward instantly and stood unflinchingly on the pillar's edge. Then she closed her eyes, smiled bravely as she thought of her sacrifice for the people, and leapt into the red heart of the flames.

"Angry and ashamed - but more afraid the noble power of the Sun would not be his - the God of Snails and Worms shut tight his eyes and jumped. But his leap was to one side, where the fire was weakest and the ash thick.

"Just then an eagle swooped from nowhere into the flames, then out again so swiftly only his wingtips were singed. He flew upwards swiftly with a bright ball of fire held in his beak - like a fiery arrow through the sky - until he reached the eastern gates of Tectihuacan. There he left the ball of fire - for thus Little Nana had become - and she took her seat upon a throne of billowing clouds. She had golden shining tresses strung with pearls and precious shells, shimmering in the mists of dawn; her lips were brightest scarlet.

"Never was the dawn so beautiful. A great roar of pleasure issued from the gods and rumbled through the morning sky.

"And then a hawk swooped into the burning embers of the fire and was scorched a charcoal black; it emerged at once with a glowing, ash-coloured ball of fire held in its beak. And this it carried to the sky and placed beside the Sun.

"Thus the cowardly God of Snails became the Moon.

"The gods were angry with the feeble Moon and one flung - dear me - a rabbit at him - the nearest thing at hand. The rabbit flew straight and true, striking the Moon full in the face. Ever since, when the Moon is full, you may see the scars left by the rabbit's long ears and flying feet.

"As the Sun makes her journey around the world, bringing warmth and light, the Moon sets off in vain pursuit. But he is always slow to start; and when, cold and weary, he reached the west, the Sun has long since set; by now his once-fine robes have turned to tatters.

"That is the story of the fifth and final Sun."

Aziraphale closed the book. "The End," he added, as an afterthought, in case anyone had accidentally fallen asleep (he didn't see any sleeping faces, but then, he didn't trust his storytelling abilities either, and the cushions were awfully comfy...). The angel smiled benevolently, bizarrely similar to a grandfather clock, down at the mismatched audience.