lifeaftr | Closed

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Who: Aziraphale, Crowley and Kravitz
What: In a familiar show of bad decision-making, Aziraphale brings Crowley to the library to help. Chaos ensues.
When: Sometime in January
Where: Enso, in the library
Warnings: Language, probably

You know, if you ignore the ethereal sharks, the strange little thieving creatures, people coughing out flowers, the snow monsters, the exploding green things, the lack of modern civilized society-based resources, and the fact that they're trapped in a magical archipelago in an alternate dimension which somehow has the power to entirely change how your anatomy and entire nature works, this really isn't all that bad.

The angel's been slowly finding his place here. Which is not to say he's not holding out for some sort of miraculous escape back to the Earth he knows and loves, but, you know, adapt to your surroundings and all that. It's really not been easy, what with all the different islands and strange things happening every other week. Very strange things. Very strange, sometimes deadly things. Though, most times, they're mostly...awkward and uncomfortable. Which is its own kind of torture.

But he's found something that feels at least somewhat familiar: books! Specifically, the library. He's slowly making his presence there, trying to keep his criticisms to himself, and trying to help out as much as he can. There aren't really an abundance of resources or information or...anything, really, to make the place presentable, but by golly, he's not going to stop trying.

~~Mostly because he really needs something to do to keep away the waves of constant dread and worry that creep at the sidelines and threaten to wash over everything, God, please, anyone.~~

Today, he brings company! One very special demon, who was very nicely asked to put his powers to use to help improve the establishment and make it the best it can be.

"- And if we really put our minds to it, I'm sure we can get the library in tip-top condition in no time."

Enter scene. Hopefully Kravitz won't mind.

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Crowley didn't have a lot going on, so it was fairly easy for him to follow Aziraphale on whatever task he had in mind. He didn't know enough about the island yet to have any real fun with it, but good samaritan work wasn't really up his alley. Still, in Aziraphale's company, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure all of that hard work will last through the natural disasters this place has in store for us."

The fact of the matter is, Lifeaftr's existence is continuously chaotic and never-ending in it's stream of bullshit. If Kravitz has learned anything in his nearly 2 years in the place, it's that things will continue to be ridiculous, and trying to organize the entire island is a fruitless and frustrating task. What he can do is control a small space, such as a library, and then live there until he dies probably. This project wasn't his to begin with, but standing as the last remaining bastion of something is very much his speed, so... he's here. Getting things done. Keeping it going.

Of course, there are more people now. People who aren't unwelcome, just... new. But Aziraphale has been friendly and respectful, so there's no need to worry. His judgement should be easy to trust.

Crowley, on the other hand, carries a few more risks.

Kravitz is currently working on re-shelving a few of the tomes that were borrowed, and turns as they enter, mid conversation. "You would be surprised. This island was quite literally on fire a month or two ago and somehow it didn't torch the place. Small wonders." He turns, hands resting behind his back with a welcome little grin. "Are you both here today?"

Aziraphale is far too glad to have something he can work on that he knows how to do, even with the present limitations. There's something very soothing to being able to dedicate your time to something at least a little bit close to home. Not that he doesn't wish he could just easily miracle everything better, but, well, there's nothing he can do about that.

"Ah, Kravitz, good day to you." The angel greets the reaper in a rather chipper tone. "Yes. Crowley here has agreed to help us improve some of the shelves." As he turns his expectant smile to the demon.

Crowley looks at the angel's smile in an expression that's so muddled, it's clear he's holding something back. Whether that's disdain or some form of fondness, one may never know. It's very likely both.

"Let me be clear," he mutters, "There's nothing else to do in this bloody place." he continues, pointing at Aziraphale in particular, almost threateningly. "I don't need everyone around here thinking they can run to me for help all the time."

He watches them both with interest, idly thinking about how he's only seen them separate up to now. If they were apart, he might have a harder time seeing where they fit, but... it's uncanny to see it from the other side. This must be how he looks with Taako, he thinks. Someone so well-laced next to a man made of chaos that somehow can't go anywhere without the other. The loneliness pangs at his heart, but he tries to force it down.

"And yet, you answered my call to use your magic to help me." Kravitz smiles, just a little, the cheekiness peeking out through any perceived formality. "But I still appreciate your assistance, however begrudgingly you may be giving it. If you're looking to run repairs, I do have some supplies, though it is limited."

Aziraphale looks at Crowley's pointing finger and rolls his eyes quite blatantly, though there's a faint, knowing smile to him, which turns into a polite one when he looks toward Kravitz again.

"I can do some of the repairs myself - magically, that is, but perhaps we should save that for anything that can't really be done by hand." The angel moves right along, pointedly ignoring Crowley's protests just now. "We do have our magical limitations, but we can pool out skills together to get everything done in an organized manner."

Kravitz may think he's read Crowley like one of his very own books (and he indeed has), but the demon isn't so quick to admit defeat. He groans in an irritated way, his head rolling back so far it might actually snap off.

"It's survival, mate, don't read into it." he replies, promptly ignoring Aziraphale's eye roll and beginning a slow stroll through the library, peeping the titles and authors made available there. Be a shame if someone mixed these up, he thought. Especially someone so helpful... that'll show them.

"Organized." he repeats, "Yeah, sure."

Kravitz knows he isn't the best at directly reading people, but he does think he has some kind of beat on Crowley's everything. It reminds him distinctly of Taako, and it at least gives him an idea of how to handle his personality. What a glow up, from being tossed under the rug in a sputtering mess at the twins' feet two years ago.

"As organized as anything gets around here, I can imagine." His eyes follow Crowley as he starts to move before turning back to Aziraphale. "Well. If you'd like to start over here, the shelf in the corner is probably the most worn down by this point. It's taken some water damage, so we're sort of propping it up against the structure." He'll gesture towards the shelf in question, but he's just... keeping an eye on Crowley. Just a little one.

If he's anything like Taako, something's bound to break ridiculous soon.

Bound to, sure. You'd think Aziraphale would be keeping an eye on the demon himself, but there might be something there about being too close to see the whole picture, or falling into habit so strongly that you forget to check some times, or some other such nonsense that happens when people have grown far too close and familiar with each other.

Aziraphale steps toward the mentioned shelf, an arm resting behind his back, taking a close look at it.

"How often would you say the building is subjected to natural disasters?" Talks the angel, as if he knew anything about the manual labor behind such things as insulation. "May have to find ways to avoid them getting damaged in the first place, before anything else."

With the two of them distracted by the shelving, Crowley begins his tour of the library. He'd never been inside of it, wouldn't have even known it was here had Aziraphale not rambled on about it often. He's not bothering to mess anything up just yet, wanting to get his bearings first. He's vaguely listening to the conversation as he roams.

"Just make a really big umbrella." he shouts behind him, "Or is that beyond your capabilities?"

Helpful. He knows.

Edited (typo hell) 2020-01-27 16:31 (UTC)

"Well, the phrase 'natural disaster' tends to imply it's a specific type of natural." As usual, Kravitz has some smart answer for damn near everything, rolling his eyes gently in Crowley's direction. "For instance, we had an invasion of creatures that could breathe fire a few months back. I don't think I need to illustrate how unhelpful a large umbrella would be under those circumstances."

He refocuses on Aziraphale, clearly more receptive to answering his questions and carry a conversation. "So, we are doing our best. Unless you have any magical wards you could provide, some form of barrier, I have just been making do."

Aziraphale is clearly much more used to Crowley's non-suggestions, as he doesn't even seem to react. Or he's putting far too much of his attention in checking the shelves and the books in front of him, going as far as putting a hand on the damaged shelf and gently push it to check its stability.

"I don't, unfortunately." Would have, at some point. Could have simply changed this place altogether, make it the safest building in the island. Alas, newfound limitations and all. Time to exercise some patience. "Well, we should definitely fix this one up, before it falls apart."

He turns to say something else, then noticing he's already lost track of the demon. He's bound to roam, you know how it is. "Perhaps there's some way to fortify the security of the building?"

Crowley rolls his eyes at Kravitz's reply, pushing on deeper into the aisles, mockingly mouthing the other man's last sentence with a wobble of his head. He can still hear the conversation in full, but he's moved out of sight, and begun to pluck books randomly from their shelves and place them somewhere else.

"I could always bless the building." he shouted, letting his voice echo their way. He shuffled a few more books, then peeked around a bend. "Or do you need me to illustrate how helpful it might be?"

Kravitz is quickly catching on that Crowley's words may be ones to tune out in bits and pieces-- or maybe he's just too much like Aziraphale in how he holds himself. "I would enjoy fortifying the building, yes. That may also be something we can handle with Tim at the Denny, as I'm sure he'd appreciate any help he can get as well."

Instead of turning fully, Kravitz just tilts his head towards Crowley, calling back a response. "I don't know how much blessings from any of us are going to assist, other than to make us all feel better. If you were going to get protection of that sort, you'd probably have to ask the Storyteller." Thankfully for Crowley, he hasn't noticed the book shuffling yet- how could he, really- but that will be a fun surprise for Future Kravitz to have a cow about.

This would probably be the part where Aziraphale would tell his demonic companion to be nice, as much as the demon might hate the word under most circumstances, but they're dealing with books. Clearly, his priorities lie elsewhere, and Kravitz seems to be handling the demon well enough anyway.

"A blessing might work under certain circumstances, but we have yet to test out any limitations such magic might have. It's been a bit of a bother, sorting all of that out." The angel walks along the furthermost shelves as he talks, arms crossed behind his back, inspecting the shelves for more damage as he goes along. "Do correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems that most magic tends to affect living creatures, rather than buildings or the environment around us. Perhaps an actual fortification of the building itself might be our best option."

He glances in the direction Crowley's shuffled off too, but the demon is somehow at the perfect angle for none of his shenanigans to be visible. "Perhaps you could provide some tools, Crowley?"

Crowley scoffs to himself at the others' reaction to his offer. He pays it back with a bit more shuffling of books, then shoves a small book that looks well-loved and perhaps maybe often referred to into his coat, under his arm. Not to steal, of course, just to find a good hiding place for.

He moves around and out of his current hiding place, glancing nonchalantly over at the two of them as he strolls across the room to another shelf.

"What sort of tools would those be?" he asks, "I never took you for a handyman."

With that, he slips behind another book shelf, pulls a few books forward, and hides the pocketed book behind them.

He doesn't know what blessings count for, okay. He is Trying. At least Aziraphale provides some guidance, and he's just going to go along with that for now.

In addition, Kravitz is beginning to wonder what Crowley's fascination with the shelves is spurred by, and he starts to approach with a careful eye. "I suppose we are not traditional builders, but I hardly think we can hurt. Perhaps, even, there is a book in here that can help. And speaking of... can I help you find something?"

He doesn't seem immediately suspicious, but he is looking a liiiittle closer now.

Aziraphale notes some minor damages to some of the shelves, much preoccupied in making a mental list of priorities. Crowley might have called him out, but he's not beyond learning new, more hands-on skills.

"I suppose I'm not, but we have to make due." He takes a moment to inspect the roof and the floor as well, still entirely oblivious to Crowley's sneakery.

"I'm sure it can't be that difficult." Says the angel who's never had to repair anything by hand before that wasn't a book or a parchment.

"Me?" Crowley catches Kravitz's eye and plucks a small thin book off of the shelf completely at random. "Nope, found exactly what I was looking for." he continued, leaning against a shelf and flipping through the pages, as if it were totally normal.

"I'm sure you'll let me know once you figure it out?" Crowley's hiding his face in this book at this point, but still listening to the angel's puttering about. "Blessings are still on the table..."

On one hand, Kravitz is very, very well attuned to bullshit. He's had a long time of every person imaginable trying to pull one over on him, and if he slips in any vigilance he has reason to believe it would end the world. To that end, he knows when something weird is happening, when a feeling is probably more than a feeling, and he eyes Crowley with suspicion as he pages through the book.

On the other hand, he's trying not to be so paranoid and Aziraphale obviously trusts this man, so he should make an effort to do so as well. It's mostly culminating in Kravitz squinting at Crowley very, very closely, but otherwise making no moves to do anything about it.

"Rrrrrright then. Well. It's likely going to be fairly complex, but maybe you would like to detail these blessings you're referring to?" He bites back a number of other comments, and instead follows it up with a slightly less rude message instead. "And what does that book have to do with them, exactly?"

The absolute worst thing Kravitz could do in this situation is give the demon the benefit of the doubt for the angel's sake. A fools errand. Deadly naivety. But Crowley also has millennia of experience with mischief, so it probably hardly matters.

Aziraphale looks in their general direction when he hears the mention of books, mostly because he known, having been told on no uncertain terms, that Crowley does not like to read.

Still, he doesn't call him out where Kravitz could hear, and instead continues the conversation. "I don't believe we know what those can do, yet. You see, we found our powers rather limited as soon as we got here. Hard to tell what exactly we still can and cannot do."

"Oh the book, yes-- unrelated. Was recommended, that's all." he pages through, pretending not to be alarmed that it is indeed a children's book and he is in fact an ageless entity.

"Been blessing the crops beside our cottage. Seems to get them growing better. Just thought the structure might hold a bit better. But if you don't want my help..." Crowley tucks the book into his arm, beginning to drift about. "It's not a problem."

He wanders off, trying to find another corner of the library out of view.

Sometimes, you try to be nice to a friend of a friend and that person decides to be a fiend instead. Sometimes you're Kravitz and you get thrown into tricks constantly and are so used to accepting it you just let it happen. Sometimes, it is Like That.

Kravitz sighs, his attention turning back towards Aziraphale and less directly staring Crowley down. "I... had a similar experience when I arrived here, with not having access to my full suite of abilities. I believe it goes hand in hand with our newfound morality, but you should run some tests to see what your limitations are. It isn't good for anyone if you don't know how to take care of yourself."

Crowley starting to move does get his attention though, and without even moving his feet, he places a hand on Crowley's shoulder just as he's about to get out of arm's length. "And... Crowley, was it? Do you intend to check that book out? If not, feel free to give it to me-- I'll happily put it back for you." His stare has turned towards the demon completely, giving him a deadpan sort of gaze that shows he's at least going to put up a fight to Crowley's unknown machinations. He's trying. It's the best he's got.

Godspeed, Kravitz. That's probably going to end up horribly for you.

Aziraphale hums, moving towards the center of the room and giving it a look around, thinking. "We do, when we can, but it's quite difficult to run a list when the limits aren't obvious." Which is to say, if you could always do Everything and suddenly you can do Very Few Things, even coming up with the appropriate tests is hard.

"But Crowley might have a point, even if it doesn't fix anything, it might help maintain the structure for longer, specially if we start having weather that could damage it."

Should he be checking on the demon? Ah, it's probably fine. Just an angel and two occult forces talking shop. Surely he wouldn't embarrass him.

Crowley is often a fiend. Literally, fiend is in his nature.

"It was." he scoffs back, leaning onto a surface he probably shouldn't be sitting on, not quite out of view. Sunglasses are discarded beside him, because he's chosen a dramatic route this time. He pulls the book from his armpit, fully looking Kravitz in the eye, opens it without blinking away from him, and then clears his throat. Aziraphale is doing his own thing, and the words he's saying barely register in Crowley's ear. He's way too busy staring with all the disdain he can muster.

"Might?" he replies to the angel's call-out, still not dropping his gaze. "I did."

Then, finally, the book is raised over his face, but he doesn't look at the page at all until he's certain his face is out of sight.

As much as Kravitz is listening to Aziraphale, he's very invested in whatever Crowley is doing now that his brain has started saying it's Most Definitely Bullshit. The slit eyes and direct look do little to bother him, but he also has no direct evidence to call Crowley on, so he needs to continue to look like a reasonable person. It's the worst waltz in the world, and he intends to stop doing it as quickly as possible.

"Well, if that is the first objective, I have no oppositions. I trust your judgement on what you think might help." Kravitz is still watching Crowley hard enough that he feels like he's going to burn a hole straight through the book in his hand, but at least listening enough to keep up conversation. "If I were you, I would try in your tests to segment things down to simple items and go outwards. For instance, changing something's shape might be easier than making something another thing, or creating something wholesale. Perhaps something to investigate."

With all the talking, and the angel's inspection of the building, his walking around brings him to the scene between the demon and the reaper and he stops, arms folded behind his back. He stares at them both, and blinks.

There is a lot to take in, here.

"I believe that's...feasible. Er, is everything alright?"

The demon isn't reading a single word on that page, that much is for certain. There is a darling illustration though, he stares at it for a moment. At least until he doesn't feel Kravitz's eyes on him any more.

"Everything's fine." he says, without moving, "Pick your blessings carefully, I tire easily." Crowley continues, and right now, he's very tired of being treated like a child... even though he's acting like one.

Kravitz has his lips pressed into a line, but he's trying very hard not to be the first person to break into 'unreasonable' around here, so here he goes. He's incredibly close though, and addresses Aziraphale while still standing rigid.

"It's... fine. It's fine. What would you suggest? Have you done any tests to this before?" His bullshit meter is pinging hard, and it won't take much to set him off from here, but damn he's making the Biggest Attempt Possible.

Aziraphale looks at the two in front of him, slowly piecing together the tension that seems to have overtaken this section of the library. Crowley's face is far too close to that book. Kravitz is doing...something.

"Er...Blessings, as we discussed. Limited mending and healing, in the very least. Not sure what else, at the moment."

His eyes wander back over to Crowley, and the book the demon is holding. "What do you have there?"

Still trying to ignore the fact that Kravitz's eyes are burning a hole straight through the book and into Crowley's soul, he continues sitting stonefaced with the thing raised to eye-level, blocking that wretched stare out of his peripheral vision entirely. Aziraphale speaks, but it barely registers. Crowley is entirely consumed by pretending-to-read.

'What do you have there?' registers, and only because it's an out. Crowley lowers the book for that question, closing it neatly in his lap and giving Aziraphale a rather cultured look. "Just seeing if this is factually accurate." he replies. "Seeing as we've lived through it."

Unfortunately, Kravitz has too much pettiness to not just keep sending lasers in Crowley's direction, so that's going to continue to happen until he gets some answers or is sufficiently distracted. Neither of those things are accomplished with Aziraphale's words, meaning Crowley can continue to enjoy the stare of death-- or, well, at least death's personal assistant. Death's errand boy with a big knife. It's all the same.

"These books are from a variety of universes. There's no telling if it's history matches your own." He starts to walk towards Crowley, with the obvious intent to take the book from him. "But if you would like to check something out, I can help you by documenting it at the front desk."

At Crowley's answer, Aziraphale furrows his brow in utter confusion, which at least means his stare is nowhere near as cutting at Kravitz's. Such a point is only aided by the angel's next comment: "I thought you didn't like books."

And there's Kravitz, and the angel continues to look as clueless as ever, even though he seems to have at least gotten a whiff that something is going on in the first place. "Other universes?"

Crowley huffs, closing the book and tossing it atop the table beside him. "I don't want to check out your stupid books." he groans, then giving Aziraphale the proper Look for his comment, arms crossing before him. "Don't plan to take anything out of this building, but if I'm going to be stuck here all day I might as well find a way to entertain myself.

He's clearly irritated, Kravitz' laser vision and accusatory tones (despite how valid they are) driving him up a wall. He looks Death's errand boy with a big knife in the eye, snaps his fingers, and instantly a trickle of water falls from the ceiling of the library onto Kravtiz's head. Crowley smiles coyly as if he couldn't have possibly made that happen (except, you know, he very much did).

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