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. 🤔!

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"It's only to cool off, Crowley, it's not forever. I still--"

He pauses in the doorway. "I promised I'd never leave you, and I mean it. I just need a moment."

Crowley pointedly rolls over in the bed, ignoring Aziraphale's words.

How can Aziraphale think that these people with their petty little lives are more important than getting out and getting away? Oh, because he's a stupid angel, of course he's going to think of something like that. Well, not Crowley. Eye on the prize. Prize being back in London to stop the next apocalypse. Even if a few people in town seem to think that time doesn't move outside of this place, Crowley will believe it when he sees it.

Aziraphale leaves, and comes back about half an hour later, coming into the room, taking a seat on the bed as if he hadn't left.

"Crowley," he starts. "I don't want to argue with you. Haven't we spent enough time doing that?"

Crowley has most definitely not been pouting.

Okay, yes, maybe he's been pouting. And also playing his downloaded levels of Candy Crush on his phone. Damn that there isn't any wifi in this place.

"I'm not you angel," he says, not turning over. "I'm not about to make a million friends and care about the secret crushes or whatever that they do."

"What? I don't have a secret crush on anybody, you know that." He has no idea where this is even coming from.

"And if you think I have so many friends, wouldn't it be to your benefit to ask me to get their opinions on some of these things you think that everyone believes or doesn't believe?"

"Not you on them, I mean them on each other," Crowley says, turning his head to glare at Aziraphale. "Don't be purposefully dense."

He turns back away from the angel. He already knows what the town will say. They'll tell him to stay away from the Lighthouse. They'll tell him that he's risking them all. He already knows this.

But what the hell choice does he have?

"We can leave," he says, not turning to look at Aziraphale. "Or try to. Just you and me."

"And how do you propose we do that? Because when we tried to leave, we messed up," he reminds Crowley.

He knows Crowley doesn't want to hear it, but he doesn't think it's really sunk in.

He places his hand on Crowley's shoulder to try and get him to turn around.

"There are boats," he says. "Rowboats. I spoke to someone in town, he says we can take them out into the lake. The Lighthouse Keeper doesn't want us out there. It's where the exit to this place is."

He turns to face Aziraphale.

"If you want to go."

"I don't think it is," Aziraphale responds. "But if you want to try it out, we'll take the rowboats. Just-- wait until I finish building the ferry for them, alright? I want to leave things better than when we arrived here."

You know that's in his nature.

Aziraphale takes Crowley's hand and places it around him.

Crowley moves to sit up, to look back at where the angel has taken his hand. Oh, somebody, but Crowley does hate it when they fight. Especially when he feels like it's his fault that they're fighting. Crowley is terrible at apologizing. He'll do it for Aziraphale, of course, but it always takes so long to finally get out.

"If I go up there and scare the Lighthouse Keeper into leaving everyone alone, I'll be leaving things better than when I arrived," he says. "Tell her not to reset the town, keep everyone from being so frightened all the time. They don't want to look for a way out because they're worried she'll reset them."

"You can't just convince her not to reset the town by smooth-talking her," he says. "Or to tempt her into it," he adds. "People like to grow relationships. They don't like someone to come in and tell them what's good for them." Especially not Crowley himself.

But Crowley is too confident for this.

"Angel, I was really thinking about threatening her," Crowley says, pointedly. "Besides, if she's killed and I become the next Lighthouse Keeper, what's so bad about that? Town doesn't get destroyed, for one. I won't go resetting people."

At least he's being honest.

Aziraphale pulls a shocked face as he stares at Crowley, open-mouthed.

And then his face becomes sour and he gets out of bed again. "You know, I really can't believe you."

He slams the door behind him as he leaves.

"Oh, come on, angel!"

Crowley rolls his eyes and flops back down on the bed again.

This is what he gets for honesty? Next time he's just executing his plans without telling Aziraphale anything.

Aziraphale decides to retire to his own room for the evening, and won't come back to Crowley's room. His mood is so icy that he could cause an early frost.

Crowley, meanwhile, miracles himself some lousy wine so he can get absolutely shitfaced in his own room and pout for as long as physically possible. This seems like a great idea at first, until he's consumed what would've been bottle number three, and he finds himself limping out of his room over to Aziraphale's room.

They've stayed together basically ever since they came to this place, and Crowley---the man who can sleep through anything---isn't entirely certain he can sleep alone.

"Angel?" he whispers, giving a rap at the door. Don't want to wake the human soldier person, after all.

Aziraphale is not angrily trying to sleep and completely unable to, or anything.

He just can't believe that they're still having arguments all the time - he knows that's how their relationship has always been, but he had somehow hoped that being here would mellow them out a bit, keep the silly shit from coming in between them.

He supposes his own attitude is not helping.

After he waits for a moment or two, he rolls to the other side loudly and says, "Come in."

It's flat, and unimpressed.

Crowley takes a second at the door and sobers up. The last thing he needs is to fight with Aziraphale about having drunk too much. Making a bit of a face at the feeling of sobriety as it hits him, he gives the door a little push open and leans on it heavily.

"I'm sorry," he says. "Really, properly, I am."

"For what, dear?" he asks, because that's the important bit. What is Crowley apologizing for, because they could be having this argument again in the next hour. He walked it off and came back and they didn't have a single minute before they were back at it.

He doesn't want that.

Okay, here we go. Crowley takes a breath, because if he gets this bit wrong, he's going back to his bedroom alone and this spat could last a lot longer than he wants.

"For not being honest with you," he says. "About what I wanted to do, about what I was planning. I didn't think you'd approve, I thought you'd want to do the right thing. I really, I honestly, I just want to stop her from doing what she's doing to the town."

"I know, darling. But if you don't want to share something with me because I might think it's a bad idea, don't you owe it to consider what I might have to say? You lied to me, Crowley. To me, because you wanted to avoid me telling you the truth."

He frowns but he beckons Crowley to come in the room.

Crowley shuts the door and takes a step into the room, looking around for something, anything to lean on.

"I just don't want you to start siding with them," he says, gesturing again towards the window. "To the ones who think she's a friend who's just really, really misunderstood."

"And I don't want you thinking she's some witch in a high tower who turns her back and is secretly a demon," he says, as he gets up and closes the door, but then stands up face to face with Crowley.

"I just want us to proceed carefully. I know caution isn't in your repertoire, but it is in mine."

"I think I'd trust her a bit more if she were a demon," Crowley says, acerbically. "I'd at least know what to expect, then."

He lets out a sigh. "You almost outed your lantern, angel. That's how you go and don't come back. And these hallucinations, these things that happen in this town, they did that to you."

They're back to this again. Maybe it's because Crowley is still devastated that he nearly lost Aziraphale. Maybe it's because Crowley needs someone to blame. Whatever it is, they're here again.

"And what if that isn't her doing?" he asks. "Have you even stopped to consider that?"

He takes Crowley's face in his hands and pulls him forward, tips his head and kisses his crown. "It's just you and me in this. We can leave, darling, why do you even have to bother with her?

"And if you feel like she's the one responsible for all this, my dear, what exactly do you seek to gain from threatening her?"

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