ansa vilt í náttini svørtu // catch-all // semi-open

[lunchbreaks]

characters: Aziraphale and... you?
location: Miner's Castle #3, or your home, or town square
date/time: Jan 7th-25th ish?
content: Catch-all up to the total blackout event (??? i forgot what this was called again and i just looked it up)
warnings: Extremely fussy angel



It's cold outside (open)
[ Aziraphale took all of the vegetables and the meats and seasonings that Crowley had gotten from the grocery - braved the cold to go retrieve him, bless - and naturally used it to make soup. A lot of soup. Way too much soup. In fact, this is a miraculous amount of soup for the ingredients used, and quite tasty. It helps that it's been bulked up by some sort of grain - rice, noodles, perhaps both. It's not as hearty as a stew, but it manages to fill container upon container.

Which means that, naturally, at your door, stands a snowman-looking being. He has pale blue eyes and frosty eyelashes peeking up over his scarf. He appears to have either fashioned a coat out of a comforter, or just to be wearing one tied around himself, since he looks more marshmallow than human at the moment.

But what is really, really important, is that he is holding an impossibly hot container in his hands. ]

May I come in? I've made some soup for your household.

Let's stay in (closed to Miner's Castle #3 Residents)
[ It's cold outside, so once everyone's in and there appears to be enough supplies for everyone to hunker down for duration of the cold snap, Aziraphale starts to place pieces of fabric or fuzz or whatever is available around the sides of windows, around the edges of doors, to try and fill in the gaps.

He frowns at the sheer amount of items needing covered, wonders if he shouldn't just draw the curtains and tape them shut. Occasionally he'll either enlist the help of one of his housemates, or go check up on them to make sure they're not in need of tea or a blanket. ]

You'll catch cold like that.

[ He'll say this, regardless of how warmly the other is dressed.

Eventually, he might pull out a boardgame from a previous resident, and blow off the dust, set up the pieces, and see if his family would like to stay snowed-in and play. ]

Oh look, yarn! (open)
[ Aziraphale can't knit or crochet to save his life. But what he can do is make frames out of sticks, and wrap the yarn around them to make snowshoes. It doesn't look like this is going to melt anytime soon, or quickly, so he thinks this might be a pertinent venture. If you ask, he'll make you a pair. Or, he'll teach you! ]

Comments

[lunchbreaks]

[ It's ok, Aziraphale hears it and starts to fix him a bowl. ]

Oh, yes, I live in the village so I thought I'd go around there first and then see if I could make the trip. I guess I was sort of delaying in hopes that it would get a little warmer.

[ No such luck, but you know. Angel magic.

He also cuts Rosi off a slice of thick bread, and hands it to him with the bowl. ]

[callada]

[Embarrassing to be caught red-handed like that, but he doesn't say anything as Aziraphale begins to ladle soup into a bowl. And kindly, Aziraphale doesn't say anything either. There's no space for a table in the room, he usually just sits on the bed anyway if he wants to eat. There's a desk and chair, but he doesn't fit comfortably there and it's usually covered in paints or books or whatever else he or Mary has brought in recently. So he goes ahead and plops himself down cross-legged on one of the two side-by-side mattresses he uses to sleep on.

And as Aziraphale makes his way over, Rosinante reaches for the bowl, but then balks at the bread and shakes his head as he takes the soup with both hands.]

I'll pass on the bread. Not my thing. Thank you, though.

[Having seemingly forgotten that the soup was just practically simmering in its container, Rosinante immediately sticks a spoonful in his mouth, then winces hard as he drops the spoon on the floor in surprise and half-spits, half-swallows its contents over the bowl. Fuck, he always does this but he's too busy fanning his tongue with his abruptly free hand now to be mad.]

Hot.

[lunchbreaks]

Goodness!

[ Aziraphale, who had been wrapping up the bread in some clean cloth to give to the next person, possibly Mary or something, looks up just as the spoon clatters. ]

Are you alright?

No burns?

[ He goes to fetch a cloth to wipe away any mess. ]

[callada]

Burned my tongue.

[And the roof of his mouth. But this happens all the time and after a moment he switches to trying to blow on his tongue via exhaling before giving up and just sort of frowning at himself.]

I'll be fine. Just didn't realize it was still that hot. My mistake. You don't have to clean, really.

[It's been one small disaster after another and he sets the bowl of soup down beside him before he can spill that too.]

[lunchbreaks]

Oh, it's fine. I'm sorry, I should've warned you it was hot.

[ But also boy it's supposed to be hot, goodness, you're gonna give Aziraphale a heart attack. ]

Is it bad? Do you need cool water?

[ He'll go pour some anyway, just in case. Can't be waiting for Rosi's skin to peel off so that the roof of his mouth can heal up again. ]

[callada]

Sure.

[Would've said no, but Aziraphale is already moving to get it, so he might as well. He takes the glass once offered and has a slow sip. It stings against the burn, but it does help, a little. Maybe. Maybe that's just wishful thinking.]

Thanks. You don't have to stick around, you know, if you have other people you wanted to bring food to.

[Which is to say that he thinks he's holding Aziraphale up, making trouble for him, and he doesn't mean to be. Otherwise he'd invite him to stay and talk a while. Have some of the food he brought himself, if he wants. He likes the angel and doesn't mind his company, he's just feeling like he's the problem here.]

[lunchbreaks]

I can go a little later.

I'd like to get you settled in with some soup first, if that's alright.

[ Which means that he's going to stay here for a little bit, sorry. ]

Do you have tea? Should I make some?

[ Would you like to be fussed at by an angel all night, because you will be. ]

[callada]

[Is Aziraphale fidgeting? What is all this excessive doting? He's not used to it and he's not completely comfortable with it. Rosinante eyes him as he folds his arms across his knees, raising one eyebrow under those messy bangs.]

I'm ... fine, thanks, the cold water is probably better for now anyway. I'll just wait for the soup to cool. If you want some for yourself, though, there's a tin of black tea in that cupboard above the stove. Should be a strainer in the drawer to the right.

[lunchbreaks]

No, no, we can have water.

[ He goes to fetch them two glasses of it. And yes, he's fidgeting, but he always has this sort of nervous energy like he might be doing something wrong.

Hard habit to break. ]

I really do hope this is the coldest it gets here.

[callada]

Yeah, I hear you. Luckily most of us are in good health, and these buildings are heated. Otherwise I think we'd be in trouble.

[Adding extreme cold to the problems they already face? It would be more of a struggle than he wants to consider right now. They have enough trouble just keeping up with existing threats.]

I guess that's one benefit to however the portal selects us. Not too many children or elderly who would have to take extra care.

[A few, though. But kids tolerate snow better than older folks do in his experience.]

[lunchbreaks]

Yes, I wonder why that is. Does the portal screen out those it thinks couldn't fight against the World Eaters?

I have noticed there is quite the discrepancy of mostly young adults.

Well, and me.

[ In comparison, everyone's a child, but he understands that he's an anomaly. ]

[callada]

Yeah, there are a few exceptions. Stone is another - not as old as you in years, but it sounds like he lived a full life at home.

[Maybe Pluto and her people know more. But then again, why would they know something Robin doesn't? And truthfully he's also just assuming Robin doesn't know. That might be wrong. It's simply been his experience that Robin isn't helpful.]

We need to find out more about the portal itself, somehow.

[lunchbreaks]

Yes. But no one will give us any answers. No idea why, if they want us to help them.

[ He'll gloss over the bit about Stone, who's only like two or three hundred, that's not too old. ]

We can't even get to the lighthouse. I think we'd need to, in order to see it.

[ He assumes that's where the portal is. ]

[callada]

Hm? No, it's out over the lake. It's where the ferry comes from with its supplies, and where Pluto and her people base themselves.

[But that sure doesn't make it any easier for them to reach, clearly, because:]

Stone and Bodhi tried to fly there, but something knocked them out of the sky. Killed them both instantly.

[lunchbreaks]

They did?

--How are Pluto and the others able to come in unharmed? We have to ask next time they come back.

I suppose we have to go by water.

[ Rosi this is the part you tell him you tried. ]

[callada]

That's what they do. They have those submarines, you didn't see them? They're incredible, with all those glowing lights!

[Just putting him on this topic has made his whole face brighten up a little with interest. Those submarines were so cool and riding in one immediately became a personal goal to achieve some day.]

They must need them to avoid the fighting fish, or fighting fish spirits, I guess, in the lake. Speed and metal hulls to keep them safe.

[lunchbreaks]

...Oh no, don't tell Crowley, he'll want to steal a submarine.

[ He starts to pace internally, which externally just looks like a lot of fidgeting. ]

We'll have to tell him it's something else, not just the submarine. The captain must be, yes, the captain must be fingerprinted or wield some sort of special magic--

[ He flounders, grasping desperately for straws. ]

--Oh, I can't lie to Crowley, he'll figure it out right away.

[callada]

[Oh, boy. Yeah, that could damage their reputation with Pluto and her crew, wouldn't it? Of course, she's reasonable and no-nonsense from what he can tell. If Crowley acted on his own, he alone would be the one responsible and he alone would be the one to lock up. They might even have ideas on how to achieve it.

But he doesn't really want that. Crowley is useful, even if he's entirely a loose cannon at times. But how had he missed that the Night Market vendors arrived in submarines? They weren't exactly subtle about it. Hm.]

He'll find out sooner or later anyway. They pull their ships right up to the pier. Better to convince him that trying to steal one will result in some kind of permanent punishment or curse. You know what those people can do, right? You've seen the candies they gave out for free, just for fun - and then there was that machine.

[lunchbreaks]

Oh, yes, that might work. But all those candies did was turn my hair pastel colors.

[ He doesn't know that Crowley's fingernails fell off because he wore gloves to cover it up because he didn't want Aziraphale to worry. ]

I'll have to get someone else to tell him something truly horrible happened.

Can't have him getting any ideas!

[ He does also realize that he tattle-taled on Crowley to Rosinante just now, but it was very important. ]

Perhaps if I... yes, if I could ask for the enchantment that keeps their vessels safe from harm...

[callada]

[He hardly minds a tattle-tale. Better to look out for everyone that way. What sort of enchantment Aziraphale might be considering exactly, he's not sure, but he nods anyway. Yes, all right, good idea.]

The candies weren't as bad as the little I heard from people who dealt with that machine. I heard of one who turned everything he touched to ashes, for example. I'm sure Pluto could come up with worse for trying to steal one of her ships, too.

[The other effects, like Javert's admission of feeling extremely violent for an entire month, seem worse in his opinion but a demon might not be that bothered by something like that. Being unable to touch anything at all, now, that's tragedy.]

[lunchbreaks]

--What?

Someone turned to ash?

[ He blinks incredulously. ]

Shouldn't we alert people to how dangerous this submarine crew is? I highly doubt that any of the wares they have could possibly be worth that sort of deal!

[ It's also just, you know. Not particularly fun to be burned alive. ]

[callada]

No no, things he touched to ash. It's that machine that seemed to have the worst effects tied to it, but since they probably made the machine, they can do those things without it. Just be cautious. There's still a lot we can gain from them.

[That and to be honest, he doesn't mind Pluto. Sure, she and her people are beyond practical jokesters and into mildly dangerous hooligans under the guise of merchantry, but they live at the base of the portal and have some control over its functions that exceed Robin's knowledge. Maybe their proximity to its tools helps, too, but he has to assume part of their leverage comes from that control, and even if they consider Robin an ally, they probably don't want to give all of their power up to her by letting her have the kind of portal access they enjoy.

Good news is the soup has cooled down a bit now. He blows on a spoonful just to be sure, then has a bite. It's absolutely delicious, and very warming. He smiles.]

This is really good.

[lunchbreaks]

Oh, like. King Midas, but terrible.

[ Actually, he takes that back. ]

Err, more terrible. Goodness, what sort of power do these people have?

[ He's still thinking about it when Rosinante pierces his train of thought to comment about the soup. ]

Oh, thank you-- I'm so glad. It's not often I don't cook from a recipe. This one's from the heart, I suppose. Needed something to keep everyone in tip-top condition!

[callada]

[King who?]

No recipe? Well, around here it's easier to improvise anyway. Recipe books probably have things we don't always have. Come to think of it, I haven't looked at recipes since I was back home.

[And specifically, still very young. He gave up quickly - tended to get the books burnt or spilled on or the goat would eat the pages when he wasn't looking. It was always easier for him to learn cooking by direct demonstration. His repertoire is very simple, but functional enough.]

What all is in this?

[lunchbreaks]

Honestly, whatever I could find in the kitchen that I thought might taste nice together. After having experienced how long it takes to cook certain ingredients and what manner of applying heat is the best for them separately, I think I've sort of... developed my cooking skills enough to pull it off.

There's... rice and chicken, a vegetable stock, and carrots, and onions, green beans... oh, broad beans. Excellent, and have such great shelf life.

Potatoes... peas, and a whole slew of herbs from our kitchen window.

[ He sort of reminisces as he goes through the ingredients, remembering each one as he'd prepared them and slid them into the pot. ]

And you're right, the recipes are dreadful. Better to get them from someone like Misty, or Ignis.