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Entry tags:
(CLOSED/ACTIVE)
Who: Aziraphale & Crowley
When: 7/5, late evening.
Where: Within their residence.
What: You know, just friends under the full moon.
Warnings: Language, probably. . . And consensual, very normal shaving.
There have been strange happenings ever since Aziraphale had first arrived here in this city. Most of it was to be expected, of course, as one didn't just simply arrive into a bustling city full of beastmen and magic without coming to expect a certain level of oddity. He wasn't quite yet used to it, not by far, but he was steadily adjusting his expectations for what he might have to encounter or otherwise deal with while residing here.
Mostly he had just been trying not to gawk at anyone's appearance, if he were going to be completely honest. It was just such a difficult affair when he was so delightfully interested in all of the variety that the beastmen had to offer. Oh, he had even seen some fishfolk!
No, the strangest part had been himself.
It was a small thing or so he had been telling himself when it first started. It was just a little nail growth! Albeit a very stubborn one, but surely nothing more than that. He would wake up with claws—of all things!—and promptly clip them off only for them to reappear the next morning. Next had been the teeth. It was barely noticeable in the beginning, but each day it got a little less so. Sharper, more pronounced, and absolutely dreadful.
Hopefully Crowley hadn't noticed that he had begun to take precautions not to reveal his teeth.
Hopefully.
Unfortunately, there had been a new development after evening fell today. Small, uneven patches of thick, white fur had appeared on his legs. He desperately wanted to dismiss it as unchecked hair, but it was too noticeably different from the sort of leg hair that human bodies were supposed to get. This was fur! It was fur!
Swallowing down his panic and horror, he had left his bedroom to call out to the rest of the cottage.
"Crowley—" he starts, already looking for a familiar streak of red hair.
"Something is wrong."
When: 7/5, late evening.
Where: Within their residence.
What: You know, just friends under the full moon.
Warnings: Language, probably. . . And consensual, very normal shaving.
There have been strange happenings ever since Aziraphale had first arrived here in this city. Most of it was to be expected, of course, as one didn't just simply arrive into a bustling city full of beastmen and magic without coming to expect a certain level of oddity. He wasn't quite yet used to it, not by far, but he was steadily adjusting his expectations for what he might have to encounter or otherwise deal with while residing here.
Mostly he had just been trying not to gawk at anyone's appearance, if he were going to be completely honest. It was just such a difficult affair when he was so delightfully interested in all of the variety that the beastmen had to offer. Oh, he had even seen some fishfolk!
No, the strangest part had been himself.
It was a small thing or so he had been telling himself when it first started. It was just a little nail growth! Albeit a very stubborn one, but surely nothing more than that. He would wake up with claws—of all things!—and promptly clip them off only for them to reappear the next morning. Next had been the teeth. It was barely noticeable in the beginning, but each day it got a little less so. Sharper, more pronounced, and absolutely dreadful.
Hopefully Crowley hadn't noticed that he had begun to take precautions not to reveal his teeth.
Hopefully.
Unfortunately, there had been a new development after evening fell today. Small, uneven patches of thick, white fur had appeared on his legs. He desperately wanted to dismiss it as unchecked hair, but it was too noticeably different from the sort of leg hair that human bodies were supposed to get. This was fur! It was fur!
Swallowing down his panic and horror, he had left his bedroom to call out to the rest of the cottage.
"Crowley—" he starts, already looking for a familiar streak of red hair.
"Something is wrong."
no subject
Crowley sounds confused for a moment, about this suggestion. Why would he, specifically, get behavioural--
Oh. It dawns on him, like a splash of cold water, and after a moment's hesitation he carefully carries on shaving the fur in small strokes.
"Right, of course, suppose it'll happen eventually."
You know, when he eventually turns into a monster. Which Aziraphale isn't going to. Since that's how it's meant to be, leg fur aside. Right.
no subject
Somehow, it seems that Crowley has misunderstood what he was trying to say to him. Or maybe he just didn't understand from the start? About the whole moon tomfoolery and general effects? Although, he would have thought he would have noticed from when it had happened earlier today?
Or did Crowley always feel like that?
"No, no. I don't believe you're understanding me," he says lifting his hands. "There shouldn't be any "eventually". It should be happening now. Did you not experience anything today?"
Lack of impulse control or anything else like that? He had talked about it quite thoroughly with another gentleman he had met who seemed to think it was a conspiracy. He kept meaning to mention it to Crowley as well, but he didn't want to delve too deep into the topic.
But he thinks it stands to reason that Crowley would suffer from regular instabilities from the moon so he ought to still be dealing with it. Or, at least, he would if anything was going to be fair.
no subject
"Not yet," he admits. Then, just to placate: "might be a little more resistant to it. You know, demon. Might take a bit longer to happen for me."
Technically plausible. Crowley has no idea what about being a monster he might naturally be able to resist, but he can't prove or disprove the theory. If it might ease Aziraphale for a moment to consider then he's happy to entertain the thought.
no subject
Somehow, that doesn't sound right to him. Or, maybe, he just didn't want it to be true because he couldn't think of anything more irritating than the idea that Crowley might get some sort of laxed effect simply on the merit of him being a demon.
"You're not a demon here," he remarks. He was virtually a human! Both of them were.
His eyebrows pinch inward.
"You're a witch."
no subject
He sits back on his heels, squints at Aziraphale.
"Alright. So explain it to me then. How should it work, this witch business with the moon phases?"
Since Aziraphale apparently seems to believe he knows something Crowley doesn't.
no subject
It definitely wasn't!
"Well, don't stop! You're nearly done with this leg," he tells him. He knows that Crowley was perfectly capable of both clearing off his leg and listening to what he had to say.
"I suppose I should start with today. Did you feel any differently earlier or, well, now?"
no subject
With exaggerated patience, Crowley leans forward again and continues shaving off the patches of fur. Some thanks he gets, going to all this trouble. If he slips and cuts Aziraphale just a little it will be poetic justice.
"I feel as if an annoying voice won't stop criticising me," he replies.
No, he feels exactly the same.
"Bit alarmed when you insisted on showing me your leg out of the blue earlier, I suppose."
no subject
"Ah, yes. I do apologise for that. It was a bit—"
Much.
In retrospect, he probably should have handled that a lot better. Or at least more calmly than he did. The whole thing was probably very alarming for Crowley, enough so that he made offers to help like this even though he probably didn't want to. Doesn't seem like it anyway.
He sighs.
"Supposedly there was an incident earlier today where many were having difficulty reigning in impulsive and foolish thoughts. I thought you might have at least seen it for yourself if not felt it," he mentions.
no subject
He can already imagine what he might say.
That's half the work done, at least, and he sits back to take a look. He's perhaps taken longer than is reasonable, but he can't see any missed pa-- oh wait, there's one. He leans in to fix the missed patch, brow furrowed in concentration.
"What was this incident, then?" He thinks a moment, really turning over the day. He's not really done much at all, in truth. That's really most days in this place. So little excitement unless you make your own. Apart from, apparently, whatever it is he missed here.
no subject
Then Crowley seems to be finishing up his leg. He ignores his question at first, too distracted by the prospect of being rid of that wretched fur. Excitedly, he rubs his hands along the now ridiculously smooth skin of his shin to admire the new condition of it.
"Oh! It looks much better. I'd say much better than it usually does even!" he says, delight written both on his face and in his tone.
It takes him a second to remember that he needed to actually answer Crowley still.
"Right, the incident! Well, it was things like encouraging others to steal or otherwise cause mischief, but without anyone whispering in their ear to do so."
no subject
Well.
"Don't know if I'd have seen a difference, then."
If the behaviour change was 'became mischievous, encouraged people to do bad things' then really -- what is the difference for Crowley? Sounds like a Thursday, honestly.
"Shall I do the other one then?"
Has leg one passed the test? Seems as if Aziraphale is happy with it, anyway, if the way he's sort of... rubbing it is anything to go by.
Better not to think too much about that, the bare legs and all the rubbing.
no subject
Well, that's a disappointing answer. It probably wasn't incorrect since Aziraphale could easily see Crowley being unaffected or simply not noticing that he had been affected, but it was still disappointing! He didn't like the idea that Crowley was getting to skirt by without any of this weirdness.
He really didn't want it to just be him.
"I suppose not, but it was certainly an eventful time for me," he says with a small sigh. The only positive side of it was that he had gotten to meet a lot of interesting individuals. It was just a pity that it was under such strange circumstances.
Then he glances at Crowley.
"If it's not too much trouble then."
He'd rather they matched.
no subject
That simply wouldn't do. He picks up the brush and shaving cream, begins a repetition of his haphazard application on the other leg. Still not strictly even but, well, it had worked well enough before. So perhaps it's fine?
Or, at least, perhaps it somehow all balances out to be good enough.
"Legs this shiny it's a shame to hide them. Should get yourself something slinky to show them off."
Maybe a nice dress? Fancy skirt? Or at least some shorts. Seems a shame to go to all this trouble then put them away.
no subject
Weren't some of the monster legends like that? Hair and nails that continue to grow after being cut off?
"It's late," he says, hardly explaining the thought process behind it. Then he smiles, glancing down at Crowley.
"I suppose I'll have to be content with only you seeing them for now."
no subject
Being the only person to see his legs, that is. Crowley flicks a playful smile, sets down the brush and shaving cream and picks up the straight blade again. His shaving technique (like his cream application) still leaves plenty to be desired. Repetitive short strokes rather than long ones. Still, gets the job done doesn't it? Gets the fur out of the way, and gets Aziraphale to calm down and feel at peace once more.
"Course, if we have to keep doing this might be another chance."
You know, to slip into something to show them off. He's just saying.