(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

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

Belial turned his dark eyes on Crowley, face suddenly hard, the demon's words like nails raked across old wounds barely begun to heal. "You can listen to me, or you can listen to your cynicism. If you don't think I could accept love without sex then you are sorely mistaken. I've suffered through Hell for Gabriel. Literally. I'm not a martyr, nor am I a saint; I have my selfish reasons for doing it, and I have and am still willing to accept responsibility for my errors."

He unclenched his fist and stood. "And you're wrong. We can't. Not us. We don't trust like that. It took the both of us centuries to fall in love, and ten times that long to admit it. There is love in Hell, but you might be too blinded by being on Earth so long to see it; it's not always happy, or fun, or even good, but it's there and it flourishes. Love already exists in the purest of places, just as it exists in the most depraved. It's not love at fault, it's only us."

"I can't change reality for you, my friend."

Tongue stinging from the anger in his own words, he turned his face from Crowley and left as he had come, shadowy silent.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley stared at Belial's retreating back, wondering what he'd said to set him off. Then he snorted.

"If you really think we're the ones at fault, Belial, you're way more cynical than I am," he murmured, wrapping his arms around his knees again to avoid a chill.