logsinthenight | Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!

Entry tags:

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!

characters: EVERYONE??
location: General Store + around Beacon
date/time: October 18-31
content: This is the costume prompt from the TDM, delivered to you all in mingle-style by popular request and with mod approval
warnings: n/a for now but will update

Although the month is already well underway, residents of Beacon will notice a brand new shipment being delivered to the general store—only this one comes via the forest, as a small legion of spirits quickly drop off crates of boxes at its doorstep before scampering back into the woods. Hopefully nobody is riding too hard on hoping for further rations or supplies, because opening them up quickly squashes any notions of a full month's restock. Instead, it looks like each crate is bursting with costumes! Coming in all shapes and sizes to fit anyone of any age or decree, there’s plenty to choose from. Something scary? Magical? Clever? Or maybe even a bit on the sultry side? Dig deep enough, and you’re sure to find something to suit your tastes, props, accessories, wigs and all!

If nothing else, surely you can find an alternate use for a bit of spare fabric in your size, but what's the harm of having a bit of fun? But, oh, be careful if you're playing dress-up while the hallucinations from the event are in play... These costumes might just have a funny effect on you. 🤔!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"It's a good look for you, angel," Crowley says, leaning against one of the racks. "Brings out your eyes."

He has, of course, chosen to put on the first costume closest to himself, which happens to be a halo and a pair of white wings. Which, in his opinion, is basically the best costume he could have asked to find.

"Ah, do you really think so?" he asks, as he slips on long gloves and then goes to help Crowley attach his halo.

"Very funny one you've got. Ready to practice our celestial harmonies together?"

"Figured it might get others in the town to think a bit better of me," Crowley says. Of course, apologizing and being generally kinder to everyone might do the same thing, but Crowley isn't about to do any of those things. Of course not.

"Where do you think these all came from, then? What with the ferry gone?"

"The forest, I think. And you know that no one's chosen to forgive me simply because I'm an angel," he admonishes.

But he does affix the halo. "Oh, you look absolutely ridiculous. And you have wings. They're quite nice wings!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Crowley says. "I think I'm rather fond of the little ones I've got here."

He wiggles his shoulderblades and glances back at the little white wings. His eyes narrow as he looks over his shoulder at his actual wings, hidden just in the ether. They look different---they look wrong. Is he imagining something? He must be.

"Crowley, are they... do they actually move? That's fascinating," he says, not noticing that a spirit deer has come out of the forest, and a few spirit birds have come to hang around his face.

"What a specific costume." He goes over to touch the little wings, to inspect them.

Crowley immediately waves his hand to wave off some of the birds from around Aziraphale's face. Stupid angel, always getting animals to love and accept him. One of the birds immediately moves to land on Crowley's shoulder. He gives it his best scowl and it doesn't go away.

"Could've given you a devil costume," he says, shaking his shoulder to try to get the bird off of him. "Would've been appropriate attire, I think."

"Ha ha," he responds in a deadpan, but it comes out light and sweet instead. "Oh dear, what has happened to my voice?" he asks, as birds tweet around him, trying to avoid Crowley's swats or curiously looking around the demon.

"Crowley, what on Earth--" he muses, trying to shoo the bird off his shoulder.

Crowley looks at Aziraphale, with his weirdly light and sweet voice. That's new. Crowley would know Aziraphale's voice anywhere, and that is---well, it's odd. Very odd.

He slips off his sunglasses to get a good glare in at the bird. Most animals, upon seeing Crowley's true nature, immediately scurry away. This one has to get the hint. Little does Crowley know that his eyes don't look like he expects---the pupils aren't long and thin surrounded by pools of yellow. No, they're perfectly normal humanoid eyes, with golden irises.

"Scram!" he says, and the bird chirps happily at him.

He turns to Aziraphale. "Are you doing this?"

"Absolutely no--oooauuugh!" he jumps backwards in shock, upon looking at Crowley's eyes, which is not a thing he's ever done while looking at Crowley's eyes.

"Dear, what has happened to your eyes? They're-- they're all wrong!"

He goes to take Crowley by the chin and look at him. "Oh, no! They've gone all round!"

"Yes, that happens when I'm stressed," Crowley says, thinking that Aziraphale must mean that his eyes are more yellow than normal. He hasn't had anything but the snake eyes in over six thousand years, he can't expect anything different. Of course, in those six thousand years, Aziraphale has never reacted that way to his eyes, not once.

"What do you mean all wrong? And what is going on with your voice?"

"No, I mean... your pupils have gone all round! What does it mean?"

What does it mean?

His heart beats fast, and he stumbles backward. For some reason, he's feeling extra clumsy today, and he starts to fall.

Crowley, naturally, reaches out to catch the angel in his arms. He looks down at him in surprise. Aziraphale is known for being a bit silly at times, but never quite so clumsy.

"Are you all right?" he asks.

He has the stupid, unexpected desire to heal him. To offer him some sort of blessing. Which is silly, of course, he's never been very good at blessings, even the ones he did with Aziraphale for the Arrangement.

"No, I don't think so," Aziraphale responds, quite honestly.

And then, with a slight melody: "♪ I'm feeling rather faint and I've no idea why, but I think it might have everything to do with your gold eyes. ♪"

He looks very concerned about the fact that he's breaking out into song.

"♪ Currently they're quite a state I've never seen before... You're glowing my dear Crowley, and I simply can't ignore. ♪"

Crowley freezes.

"Are you singing?"

Trust him, Aziraphale is more confused about this than anyway. "♪ I do believe so, yes, and if you would, perchance; I think my feet might decide for me that they would like to dance ♪."

The spirit birds, understanding that Crowley has a bum leg, seem to be tweeting along in tune and trying to pick him up by his jacket. They're helping.

"No, no----no birds! No!" Crowley says. He's still holding onto Aziraphale, and can't exactly kick them off with his leg, so he looks around and decides for another option, this one to open up his wings and knock a few of them back.

He lets out his wings, revealing two beautiful white wings, which come out to push away the spirit birds. Crowley doesn't notice the difference, at first, eyes still on Aziraphale.

"♪ Your wings, your wings! My dear, you've got white wings! I knew that something'd gone horribly wrong, when first I started to sing this song, and now you've got white wings! ♪"

He reaches out for them, then, gently touching the feathers.

Crowley turns his head to where Aziraphale touches his feathers. Gleaming white wings---the wings of an angel, of one who didn't Fall. To say that Crowley is stunned is sort of like saying that the Titanic was a little accident. If being redeemed were a thing---which it isn't----Crowley would never ask to be forgiven. Forgiveness is not what he wants, he just wants to be left alone. Live his life in sin and whatever else he's doing.

But, again, redemption isn't a thing. Demons can't un-Fall.

"What the fuck?"

"♪My dear it appears you're an angel, your wings as white as my own. I think something's happening to both of us, perhaps we should just go home? ♪"

But the birds start tweeting a different melody, and trying to get the two of them to dance. A flock of them start pushing the two of them together.

Crowley moves to get away from the birds, moving closer to Aziraphale, wrapping his arms around him. He doesn't want to dance. He wants to figure out what is going on. He's an angel---how did he become an angel? What does this mean? Was he forgiven? How did he get forgiven?

And what is happening to Aziraphale? Why is he singing? Why are these spirits all around them?

"Angel, what is happening to us?" He reaches out, trying to see if he can feel God's love for him in his new angelic form. He doesn't feel anything.

He may not be able to feel God's love, but if he's truly an angel now, he should be able to feel love, and between the two of them, it's quite blinding.

"♪Let's just go home and figure this out, I fear we've been ensorcelled! Have you upset any magic-users lately? Not that I mean it's your fault! ♪"

"Why is this always something I did?" Crowley says, flustered. Has he? It's likely.

He can't feel God's love, but he can feel radiating love from Aziraphale. Aziraphale loves him. That doesn't surprise him, he thinks. Aziraphale loves everything and everyone. But he can feel it, the way an angel would. Is this what Aziraphale feels from Crowley when he looks at him?

"♪I think you've been forgiven by the Almighty, but why we're here then is still a mystery!♪" he sings, still looking confused. The birds have not given up trying to get Crowley to dance.

"I can't have been, angel, there's no way She would have!" Crowley says, desperately trying to shoo away the birds with his white wings.

What is happening to Aziraphale? He's singing, the birds are trying to make them dance? He's behaved oddly in the past but never like this.

"We need to get away from here!"

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