Phale's Bookshop

[oatmanspatient.livejournal.com]

Marty unlocks the door to Phale's bookshop after his morning classes and gets to work organizing a shipment of old books that had just come in.

Comments

[flash-serpent.livejournal.com]

[He walks downstairs in back silk pajama bottoms, his wings and scales gleaming in the bright morning sunlight that spills through the windows. He isn't wearing his glasses and his hair is tousseled as he walks from the stairs into the kitchen to make tea.]

[oatmanspatient.livejournal.com]

Marty looks up at the noise and blinks a couple of times as this is the first time he's seen Crowley... "unfurled".

"Um... Good morning."

[flash-serpent.livejournal.com]

And good morning to you, dear boy.

[He sneers at Marty and flexes his wings a bit. His eyes are more gold than red, and his pupils open in wide ovals instead of the normal narrow line.]

[oatmanspatient.livejournal.com]

And I thought I looked bad before my morning cup of coffee. Maty thought.

"How are you doing today, Crowley? Got anything big planned? A few souls to tempt? Maybe, poison some ducks?"

[flash-serpent.livejournal.com]

I don't poison the ducks, precious, they're more pleasant than you. Shall I poison you instead? [He smiles hard and cold at he though, the corners of his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement.]

Today...I should check in on the lovely sweet I left a-bed last night, and perhaps I'll go for a walk. It doesn't do for one to hide away.

After Red's

[oatmanspatient.livejournal.com]

Marty returns from Red's, thinking about Duce. He goes back to putting books in their proper place but it is clear he's distracted.

Re: After Red's

[yaymckay.livejournal.com]

Rodney meanders into the bookshop. He's never been here before, so it's all pretty new.

Re: After Red's

[oatmanspatient.livejournal.com]

Marty looks up from the counter where he's working and gives Rodney a faint smile.

"Hi. Looking for anything in particular?"

Re: After Red's

[yaymckay.livejournal.com]

Rodney glances over at Marty. "No, not really. My first time here, so I'm just...you know...browsing."

Re: After Red's

[oatmanspatient.livejournal.com]

Marty nods and points out the different sections of the store. "Most of the books here are either used or collectibles, but if you need anything specific we can order it for you. If you need any help let me know. I'm Marty by the way."

Aziraphale

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

A while after Crowley has left, Aziraphale wanders downstairs. He's dressed in rumpled beige trousers and a heavy knit sweater of indeterminate color that looks like it's seen better days. He's also barefoot, and humming to himself. After a trip into the kitchen, he heads up to the front of the store, teacup in hand, and ensconces himself in his favorite chair near the window. After a sleepy smile and good morning to Marty, he settles in with a novel and pretty much ignores everything that's going on unless someone addresses him directly.

[OOC: Aziraphale will be available until 6:00pm EST, and then again after 8:00-ish.]

Re: Aziraphale

[oatmanspatient.livejournal.com]

After helping Rodney, Marty finally decides to approach Phale.

"Aziraphale? I have a question about... Crowley. I know you two are all about free will but I'm concerned about a classmate of mine that he's taken an *interest* in."

Re: Aziraphale

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

Aziraphale sets down his book and smiles warmly at Marty. "Of course I'd be happy to talk to you, my dear. Although you must realize that I'm not privy to all of Crowley's business. Who is the classmate you're worried about?"

Re: Aziraphale

[oatmanspatient.livejournal.com]

"Duce. She's a gorgon that goes to my school. Crowley dropped her name earlier when I opened up the shop and he mentioned something about her coming to him and..."

Marty hesitates.

"She's been acting strangely all day. She's not herself. Crowley called her 'a lovely sweet I left a-bed last night'. I don't know exactly what he did but she's not the same as she was and I didn't know what kind of lasting affect he might have had on her."

Re: Aziraphale

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

The angel raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of tea. "I'm afraid that all I can tell you is that Crowley shared a...story with her last night. Having never met the young woman, I can't answer as to her behavior. But I can tell you this: it's very likely that whatever happened had a far worse effect on Crowley than on your friend. He rather likes her, I believe. I very much doubt that he'll do anything to harm her. Have you spoken to her about your concerns?"

[dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com]

After his Clinic hours, Wilson was out walking, restless as ever though still in a fairly good humor as he moved through town. It was chilly tonight, getting close to the point where he was going to have to give up the lighter leather jacket for his heavier overcoat and scarf, the wind had a habit of cutting through him.

Feet carried him towards the book shop and seeing it lit up, warm and inviting he slipped on in. He still had a stack of books to work his way through and there was perhaps the promise of tea and maybe a conversation with Aziraphale. Always good things, were all of the above.

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

Aziraphale is sitting in his usual chair near the front window, reading a novel (and, of course, drinking tea). He doesn't really seem to be paying much attention to the shop, leaving it to Marty to deal with the customers, and in fact it looks as though he may have come straight from bed to the armchair.

He doesn't appear to notice Wilson, who will probably have to say something to get Aziraphale's attention.

[dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com]

A gentleman surely would not remark upon such things as celestial bed head.

However, Wilson would grin and call out a friendly. "Good evening, Sir!" His tone was chipper, so long as you ignored the slightly chattering teeth.

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

Slightly surprised, as if he truly had no idea anyone was even there, Aziraphale looks up at Wilson. Realizing who it is, he gives the young doctor a bright smile and waves his hand toward the other chair.

"Please sit down, my dear! You look chilled -- would you like some tea?"


[ooc: And now I shall have to beg off for a bit to go to dinner!]

[dr-jwilsonmd.livejournal.com]

"Oh I would adore some tea. I fear I let the colors of the setting sun lure me into a false sense of warmth. I need to break out the bigger coat...or stop being scatterbrained."

He smiled as he walked over to the indicated chair, perching on the edge of it and grinning at Aziraphale.

"How is your evening, Sir?"

[ooc: Food is a wonderful thing! See you in a bit.]

[medusae-x.livejournal.com]

Leaving work just around dinnertime, Duce stuffs her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. Marty's concern about her palms, which by now had healed all but completely, and the determination with which he'd questioned her had made her just a tad bit paranoid.

She walked slowly down the street, face pointed at the cobblestones. The focus of what should be her gaze never changes, although she steps around things as if almost hyper-aware of her surroundings.

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

Aziraphale realizes that he's been sitting in the shop reading for the entire day, without stepping outside once. Chastizing himself, he pulls on his wool coat and goes to stand on the walk in front of the shop, watching the cold air form the very beginnings of frost on the landscape.

Seeing the young woman walking, he's reminded of what Marty asked him this afternoon. Certainly he has no way of knowing if this is even the same person -- while the chances of there being more than one Gorgon in town are slim, it would be rude of him to make the assumption. However, the evening is chill, and it would also be rude of him not to offer her a chance to step inside and warm herself.

As she approaches, he nods and smiles. "Good evening, my dear."

[medusae-x.livejournal.com]

The snakes closest to him acknowledge him first, by fixing their attention on him. The face soon follows, more a gesture of politeness than an actual need to point it at him. She looks at the man standing in the doorway, and she stops moving altogether, becoming almost preternaturally still as she regards him. The image of him, so prominent in Crowley's mind, is different than the apparently human man standing in front of her, but the taste of him is exactly the same.

When she speaks, her voice is so quiet and the wind rips the words away as soon as she speaks them. "You're his angel."

Her manners kick in, and her voice raises to an almost normal volume, as she adds, "Good evening."

[a-phale.livejournal.com]

Aziraphale's eyes widen at the words -- the ones carried away on the air, not the polite greeting expressed after. He'd been right after all, this was Crowley's new friend, the one he'd suffered so much for.

He bows his head in acknowledgement, and says, "Yes, my dear. I am. Would you care to come in out of the cold for a bit? Share some tea with me -- or cocoa, if you prefer?"

[medusae-x.livejournal.com]

She regards him for a moment. She's not really in the mood to be around people. Her snakes point out that he's not exactly 'people'. And Crowley loves him. And they're curious. And she's curious. Curiousity may have killed the cat, but the old adage says nothing about what it does to snakes, and besides, this particular snake-child is immortal, so in the end, curiousity wins.

"Some cocoa would be nice," she acknowledges gravely, walking toward him to follow him into the shop, "Thank you."