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manicuredangel) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entranceway2014-01-12 10:38 pm
manicuredangel) wrote in entranceway2014-01-12 10:38 pm
7th Book || Good Morning Starshine the Earth Says Bugger Off [accidental video]
[The sun shone through the window onto Aziraphale’s face and roused the angel from his light dozing. He blinked open his blue eyes and sat up, fumbling for the communication device to check the time, accidentally flicking on the video feed in the process. Viewers are treated to the view of Aziraphale’s extra disheveled mop of curly blond hair, entirely bare torso, and a bit of ruffled white wings with black speckles behind him.]
[Keen-eyed viewers might also notice a certain dark lump on the opposite side of the bed. Or at least a tuft of black hair poking out of the top of the covers.]
Dear, I think it’s time to get up. What would you like for breakfast?
[No response except for the shift of fabric.]
Really, dear… Breakfast. And a nice pot of tea sound lovely. Wake up.
[He nudges the lump in what may or may not be the side. Who knows? It’s a human-sized mass under the blanket. The lump twitches a bit and the camera auto-focuses for a moment in confusion since the angle’s a bit rubbish. Something that looks like a black wing appears in the corner of the frame for a moment before dropping away out of sight off the side of the bed with a sort of “flump” sound.]
Mffggfffllllssssssstime ‘zit?
[Huh. That sounds like Crowley’s voice.]
Crowley, it’s already eight o’clock. It’s time to wake up and enjoy the morning.
[He slips his hand under the cover and feels along the lump until he finds what he’s looking for. Oh yeah, he pinches dat ass. The Crowley-shaped lump responds with a snarly-growly sound and curls up even tighter beneath the blankets, the tuft of hair disappearing from view.]
Nnnnffbloody mornin’, bloody ungodly hour ‘swhat. Five more hours. Sleepin’, angel.
Oh no you don’t. Not this time. I let you sleep to your heart’s content most of the time, but I want to take a walk.
[He hesitates before he pulls off the cover. The room isn’t cold, by any means. But suddenly going from blanket-covered to blanket-free can’t be fun. Especially not for that particular blanket-dweller. Fortunately for everyone involved, the blanket hits the communication device just enough to turn the camera--sorry, Wonderland, no free peep shows. There is, however, a yelp and then a thud as Crowley falls out of bed. A downy black feather drifts into view.]
Now that’s just bloody well cruel. Mornings are for songbirds and those bloody mad jogging types, not any self-respecting demon.
I asked you yesterday to be up at a reasonable hour because I wanted to share breakfast and tea and a walk with you in the morning and you agreed. Up you get, dear boy.
[Crowley makes some indecipherable grumbling sounds from offscreen.] Bloody angels with their bloody guilt trips and bloody sodding morn--
[Crowley trails off quite abruptly. For a few blessed moments, there is silence.]
[Then,] ...Why is that light blinking?
Hmm? What light?
That, light, the one on-- [Beat.] Angel, tell me you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t--
[There’s a flapping sound, the thud of footsteps and then the communicator gets thrown clear across the room. It hits a wall and the feed cuts out.]
[ooc: Aziraphale and Crowley.]
[Keen-eyed viewers might also notice a certain dark lump on the opposite side of the bed. Or at least a tuft of black hair poking out of the top of the covers.]
Dear, I think it’s time to get up. What would you like for breakfast?
[No response except for the shift of fabric.]
Really, dear… Breakfast. And a nice pot of tea sound lovely. Wake up.
[He nudges the lump in what may or may not be the side. Who knows? It’s a human-sized mass under the blanket. The lump twitches a bit and the camera auto-focuses for a moment in confusion since the angle’s a bit rubbish. Something that looks like a black wing appears in the corner of the frame for a moment before dropping away out of sight off the side of the bed with a sort of “flump” sound.]
Mffggfffllllssssssstime ‘zit?
[Huh. That sounds like Crowley’s voice.]
Crowley, it’s already eight o’clock. It’s time to wake up and enjoy the morning.
[He slips his hand under the cover and feels along the lump until he finds what he’s looking for. Oh yeah, he pinches dat ass. The Crowley-shaped lump responds with a snarly-growly sound and curls up even tighter beneath the blankets, the tuft of hair disappearing from view.]
Nnnnffbloody mornin’, bloody ungodly hour ‘swhat. Five more hours. Sleepin’, angel.
Oh no you don’t. Not this time. I let you sleep to your heart’s content most of the time, but I want to take a walk.
[He hesitates before he pulls off the cover. The room isn’t cold, by any means. But suddenly going from blanket-covered to blanket-free can’t be fun. Especially not for that particular blanket-dweller. Fortunately for everyone involved, the blanket hits the communication device just enough to turn the camera--sorry, Wonderland, no free peep shows. There is, however, a yelp and then a thud as Crowley falls out of bed. A downy black feather drifts into view.]
Now that’s just bloody well cruel. Mornings are for songbirds and those bloody mad jogging types, not any self-respecting demon.
I asked you yesterday to be up at a reasonable hour because I wanted to share breakfast and tea and a walk with you in the morning and you agreed. Up you get, dear boy.
[Crowley makes some indecipherable grumbling sounds from offscreen.] Bloody angels with their bloody guilt trips and bloody sodding morn--
[Crowley trails off quite abruptly. For a few blessed moments, there is silence.]
[Then,] ...Why is that light blinking?
Hmm? What light?
That, light, the one on-- [Beat.] Angel, tell me you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t--
[There’s a flapping sound, the thud of footsteps and then the communicator gets thrown clear across the room. It hits a wall and the feed cuts out.]
[ooc: Aziraphale and Crowley.]
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It involved alchemy. Y'know, that thing you made fun of?
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::And Ed hangs up. He figures his point was made.::
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