lifeaftr | [OPEN and one closed prompt] A very backdated arrival

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[OPEN and one closed prompt] A very backdated arrival

Who: Aziraphale & anyone else!
What: An angel arrives to the archipelago and is extremely confused. Plus a bit of exploration
When: October 27th - November 4th
Where: Mostly Ensō
Warnings: Stress and confusion

ARRIVAL [Closed, for Crowley]
Beach holidays are lovely in concept. The sun, the sea, the sand, all the good marks of a nice time, should the weather permit it.

What is not so lovely, however, is finding yourself, alarmingly, somewhere where you're not supposed to be. Somewhere where you definitely were not just moments--hours-days-- hold on just a moment. He doesn't even quite remember ever settling down or in any way losing consciousness. Which, you know, wouldn't make this whole situation any less cause for alarm, but it would be somewhere to start.

He's stepping through the damp sand, holding, in his hands, a knapsack that, for some reason, has his name embroidered on it. The items inside do nothing to answer any questions, and he's looking around every which way.

Something about this place is...different. Something feels strange - well, all of it is strange -, and he can't quite put his finger on it. What on Earth did he get himself into?

"Hello?" He calls out, somewhat nervously.

STORYTELLER'S TEMPLE & MANA POOL
The day after his arrival, he sets off to have a look around. This particular building easily catches his eye - hard to miss the structure in the island as is, but there's something else about it. Something-- oh, darn it. Yet another thing he can't quite comprehend, and it's entirely frustrating in an already confusing and stressful situation.

For a few hours, this strangely dressed humanshaped being walks around the temple, examining its structure. He can be found stopping at times, seemingly focused on something, although it doesn't quite seem to be whatever piece of stone or mark on the wall his eyes are landing on.

And then, there's the mana pool; he stands at the edge of it, staring into the water intently.

This place, it's...

What is this?

DENNY
Well, this is...something.

The small gathering of buildings make things feel a little bit more-- hopeful, in some strange sense of the word. Somewhere where one can expect more inhabitants to show up, he would assume, and where he could perhaps get some answers.

Steps into the mess hall and he notices, right away, the effort that must have taken to put this sort of place together. He also notices, immediately, how he must entirely stand out in a place like this. Still, it feels cozy and lively in here. Yes, this is not too shabby at all.

Regardless, he steps quietly along the room, rubbing one of his thumbs into the palm of his other hand.

As soon as he spots someone, he steps to them a bit quicker, clearing his throat to make himself known. Tone light and polite, he addresses them with a smile, if a bit awkwardly:

"Pardon me. I do apologize for my intrusion, but could I take a moment of your time?"

LIBRARY
A library! Oh, of course, a library. He'd find himself soothed if it were not for the lack of, well, most things he'd say were necessary to establish a library of proper quality and structure, but it's a start. He has to assume that there isn't necessarily an abundance of resources in a place such as this.

Still, it warms his little nervous heart, as well as give him some hope to find some proper information about their situation.

He approaches one of the shelves, a dainty finger held up as he looks along the book spines to find...well, he's not sure what he finds. He shouldn't have exactly expected anything to stand out to him specifically, but maybe he could-

The angel looks around, looking for some sort of curator or some sort of keeper. Much like in the mess hall, he approaches the first person he sees with a polite and slightly awkward smile.

"Excuse me. Could you tell me, is anyone in charge of this establishment?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"And search for any signs of human life?" he finishes Aziraphale's sentence for him, having peeled off his wet jeans and rolled them up, tossing them in his new and already useful knapsack. He made quick work of getting the dry pair on, taking care to dust excess sand off of his feet before shoving them back onto his boots.

"What if there isn't any?" he groans, walking back into the angel's view. He hoped that wasn't the case, but first things first, they'd need to get off the beach.

He opens his mouth to answer, but falters. "No use in making assumptions." Because he has no idea what will happen if they can't find anyone to tell them where they are. What if his powers are malfunctioning too? What if they can't leave? They can't just be stuck on a deserted island. That would be ridiculous.

He starts walking towards the greenery. "There's a building, up there. Right there." The angel says, gesturing up ahead across the beach, at the top of a cliff, a stone structure lies mostly covered in vines.

"Off we go, then." he mutters, trudging on through the sand behind Aziraphale. As he follows the angel, he notes that things could be much worse for them, and at the very least, they're together. This he keeps to himself, but it calms him slightly.

Crowley takes a deep breath as they find themselves on more stable ground, searching his memories for anything that might clue him into their current debacle.

The angel is quiet, nervous, stepping out from the sand onto grass and looking for a path that may take them toward the cliff. The lack of any other particular structure in plain sight is even more unnerving.

Much like Crowley, he tries to remember something. Anything. Anything that could even barely begin to explain this. He doesn't remember drinking, much less enough blackout, which was no easy feat. No trips. No attacks. No angels or demons ambushing them again. Nothing. Just a lunch, a conversation, and nothing. And, then, the ocean and the beach.

He looks one way. Looks another way. Feels nothing in any particular manner. No residual angelic presence. No smell of demonic entities.

"What do you remember last?" He asks, shooting Crowley an anxious look.

Crowley shook his head, "Lunch at the Ritz... then nothing but waves."

He's not fond of the idea of being transported without memory of it happening, and he's even less fond of having to trut through a forest right now. Crowley was always more comfortable in a vehicle, something high speed and low effort. This, obviously, was as much his style as an embroidered knapsack. If Heaven was involved in this, perhaps this was what they envisioned Hell to be like. Whatever the explanation, it was someone's sick idea of torture.

Aziraphale, on the other hand-- well, actually, he feels about the same, although he's not entirely convinced that Heaven had a hand on this matter. It just doesn't feel like something they would do. It's all very...impractical.

"And nothing else?" He starts making his way vaguely towards the cliff, brushing foliage out of the way. "It makes no sense."

"Do you remember something I don't?" he asked defensively, as if the angel was trying to catch him in a lie. Crowley wasn't making much sense of their situation either, but couldn't figure out who to point the finger at. Any thought that came to his head was likely stretching.

"Do you think something glitched when the boy reset the world? Perhaps we slipped through something we shouldn't have?"

Crowley follows the angel, taking wide steps and swatting at branches that threaten to smack him head in the face.

Aziraphale keeps looking around, hoping to find someone, anyone, who might show up in their path and provide any kind of information. But he's only greeted by the sounds of wildlife and distant waves.

"I suppose that is...possible." But if they had, why would they only notice it now? All changes applied seemed somewhat obvious and harmless. Nothing quite as intense as slipping through some hole in reality and dropped into an unknown shore.

"But why now? It doesn't seem very likely that we would simply find ourselves in--wherever this is."

"It's not like it's been very long." he mutters, a blithe and long arm swatting at a particularly pesky group of leaves. Unruly plants in his mind, need to be put in their place.

If this wasn't aftermath of the apocalypse, the fabric of reality wearing too thin and ripping, then Crowley wasn't sure what it was. He was fresh out of ideas, all creative solutions dried up and sandbagged (maybe literally).

The angel ponders about this - and he doesn't know if he finds that more or less concerning than the idea that Heaven and Hell might have somehow got them without them noticing.

"Well, whatever it is," Said right as he steps into a small puddle, which makes right work of his shoe and causing him to stumble and scoff. Look at this mess! He's thoroughly unprepared to be trudging through a jungle. This causes his tone to sound a lot more honestly frustrated. "We need to find our way back somehow. And--find out what happened to your abilities."

He shakes some water and mud off his shoe. "Ugh."

Crowley makes quick work of clearing several branches while the angel fusses with his shoe. Poor thing, but he really can't feel too bad, considering everything on his person (save a fresh pair of jeans) is awfully damp.

"You've got no time to mourn those right now, angel. We're getting close... I think." he hisses, watching his steps carefully to avoid any puddles. If he were a snake, he wouldn't need to fuss with leaves or mud, he'd just glide right through as he did in the garden. He'd also likely enjoy snatching up a mouse or rabbit for an afternoon snack. Why does rabbit sound so particularly good right now?

Crowley shakes the thoughts from his head and holds a hand out to Aziraphale to help him hop over the mud. "C'mon, don't need you getting stuck."

The angel huffs, fussily, but Crowley has a point. They have much more important matters at hand. He's not too keen on magically repairing his clothing, but if it comes to it, he could--

Wait. What if he...can't?

He takes Crowley's hand and hops over the mud puddle, taking another look around. Another scan, at it were. The nagging feeling, it's still there, and he still can't tell what it is.

"Have you ever had trouble with your abilities, before?" He'd suspect not. He's not even entirely sure anyone but Her could ever have a hand in that. And even then...

Crowley shook his head as he helped the angel over the mud. "No. Not outside of learning new habits since the fall."

He sighed, starting his trek through the wilds again once he ensured the angel was ok. "Have you ever blacked out before? I thought you usually don't even sleep."

"Er, well, aside from being ambushed, I can't quite recall any time I have." And being knocked out via being cracked in the back of the skull is not a fun experience. It's a memorable one, however, and he doesn't recall it happening a second time.

There may have been a couple of times where drink has overtaken him to an extreme point, but not a glass of champagne, which is the last he remembers.

"We would have remembered something else. Anything else."

"All I have are dreams... and I can't quite remember them. It'll come to me eventually. Not that it matters."

Crowley breathes another heavy sigh, considering for a moment how wonderful a nap might be right now. He shakes it off quickly and clears another brush, they had to be getting close.

"Say we go with the dimensional glitch scenario-- do you think we're on Earth? On the present day? I've seen a lot of films where that's been a possibility. " Crowley stops dead in his tracks and gasps "What if this is like the ending of LOST? Eugh!!! Please, no, just send me back to the pit..."

Edited 2019-11-11 20:42 (UTC)

The angel listens, at times pulling strange expressions as the demon lists the unfortunately possible scenarios. He stops when Crowley does, blankly staring at him.

"You know, dear boy, I still find myself rather-" Lost. He makes a face. "-befuddled by your references."

He looks around, noting a path up ahead that bends up the hill. There's something that feels- powerful. But muted. The closer they get to the cliff...

"Do you feel that?"

Crowley waves him off. It would take the demon much longer to explain the plot of a television show so that Aziraphale could understand its context than was worth making the references in the first place.

"Feel what?" he replies, glancing around. Aziraphale was always more of an empath, not to say that Crowley couldn't sense something like a particularly demonic shift in energy or the presence of another celestial being. He squinted, looking off toward the cliff in the direction the angel had. "What is that?"

He makes his way past the brush and toward the path, brow furrowed in curious concentration. There's something. Something that doesn't feel threatening...but it feels entirely unfamiliar, which may be even more unnerving.

"Something-..." But he doesn't finish his sentence, walking up the path. And it doesn't take long before the building is in full view of them, clad in stone and covered in vines.

Crowley follows the angel closely through the brush, a slight concern on his shoulders. If there is something powerful ahead, did it mean them harm? Either way, Crowley was ready to defend the both of them.

"What do you think it is?" he asked, perplexed by the ruins before them. Crowley's nose scrunched as he looked them over, worried they may be dealing with consecrated ground. He really didn't want to be in any more discomfort than he already was.

"I'm not quite sure..." The angel angels, distracted and curious tone as he approaches the ruins cautiously.

"It feels...powerful." Inhuman, of course, not just a feeling, but many, good, bad, strong, overwhelming. "A lot has happened here. "

With a furrowed brow, he looks at the walls, looks around, feels for it. "There's something...else." Which, for some reason, he can't recognize. "A being."

Crowley feels something, but he can't place it. It's too off...

"A being." he echoes, a bit of hesitation in his voice. "Do you think it's safe to proceed?" he asks, although he isn't certain that they have any choice. He'd feel a lot more confident if that business on the beach earlier hadn't gone down.

Funny, really, how being ripped out of your element and thrown into a completely new situation where you don't know the rules or how to play may be entirely disorientating.

Aziraphale takes a moment or two to answer, because the truth of the matter is that he has absolutely no idea. "It doesn't feel... Malignant." He finally answers, lacking in certainty.

He steps forward, closer to the wall. Barely touching the stone, he walks along it, trying to make sense of what exactly made - is making? - it's presence here.

It isn't just that Crowley doesn't know the rules. His own don't apply. He almost doesn't even feel himself, having lost the ability to operate per normal after millennia of being used to certain conveniences. Others might not sympathize, but Crowley was proud of himself for holding it together as well as he was.

Crowley follows, testing the ground a bit before stepping onto it. It doesn't burn, which is a plus. "Then we should find the entrance, find some answers."

"Yes." He's right. Whatever this building is, he's sure they'll get a better sense of it inside.

So he goes along the wall, denoting the lack of people around. But, if what he's feeling is correct, this spot is not abandoned, by any means. Unless something happened, very suddenly, and very quickly. Which, as they may prove by virtue of being here, is entirely possible.

While they don't find the entrance just yet, the angel stops when he sees...a puddle? A pool, nearby, surrounded by flowers. And, right then, it also feels like a lot more than meets the eye. He could swear that, in some way, it almost calls to him.

The pool catches Crowley's attention as well, although he isn't certain why. Shivers run down his spine, and he shakes it off; his senses are overwhelmed and it's only natual to feel unease by it.

After a moment of hesitation, Crowley steps closer to investigate. The area around the pool certainly feels a bit odd, but in a way, refreshing. He can't explain it, which inly makes him more irritated.

"Do you feel that?" he asks, already tired of repeat questions. He should just assume at this point that the angel is having the very same sensory overload and move on, but really, until they get inside that structure and find some answers, he's not certain of anything.

"We shouldn't get distracted... this might be a trap."

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