And the Boats Drift On [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

The water is calm, and the night sky is filled with stars. The only light is natural: a patchy, bioluminescent glow coming from the water below, and the bright swath of the Milky Way above. It's not much, but it's more than enough to see by.

The dreamers will find themselves sitting in their own little rowboats, each stocked with two oars, a length of rope, some cushions, and a little picnic basket full of snacks. There is no visible shoreline, but it won't take the dreamers long to realize theirs are not the only boats in this shallow sea. Anything stirring in the water, be it fish or paddle, causes phosphorescent plankton to glow a bright blue, so there isn't really anywhere to hide.

Feel free to paddle around and visit the other dreamers, perhaps tying your boats together and sharing your snacks in an impromptu picnic. Or you could go for a swim - the bioluminescence makes it difficult to see the bottom, but it's not too terribly deep, so the risk of drowning is all but nonexistent. This setting, unlike the last one, isn't actively out to kill you. Or you could simply lie back and look at the stars.



[ooc: Same drill as always, folks. All are welcome, regardless of whether or not your character is in the game. Characters may remember or forget dream shenanigans at the player's discretion.]

Comments

[erratic_hematic]

"What clued you in?" he replies deadpan, smirking as he brings the jar back to his lips. Still, once he's taken a sip he screws the lid back on. Wine seems like the ticket at the moment. He can get back into the blood later.

"Aziraphale," Spike repeats, testing it out. "Sounds like a sneeze."

[bibliophale]

Ordinarily Aziraphale might take offense to such a claim, but now he can only laugh as what he takes to be an incredibly clever joke comes to him.

"Well," he says gleefully, "I can bless you, after all."

He laughs some more and takes another delighted swig.

[erratic_hematic]

Oh my god, Spike thinks. He thought that was funny? He roles his eyes very elaborately and pointedly. "Another one of those and i'm going to steal your wine and unhitch us to save myself from future torture."

[bibliophale]

Aziraphale pouts sweetly at the reaction, though he's used to this treatment. Ah well. "Now, now," he says. "There's no need for that, I'm sure." He drains his bottle and sighs luxuriantly. He doesn't make a habit of drinking with anyone other than Crowley, but Spike's not too bad so far. Even with the nasty habits.

"So," he says. "Otters, eh? I didn't know vampires went in for that sort of thing."

He doesn't know any vampires, really. But he's very enthused to meet one. Even if he doesn't seem that much like what he pictured. He understands that. People are usually disappointed to learn he's an angel.

[erratic_hematic]

"Oh yeah. Variety is the spice of life, y'know." He takes a generous swig from his bottle, trying to catch up to Aziraphale's pace. "I mean, me, that's the best I could get, since I don't do human anymore. There was a whole...soul...thing. Long story." He takes another drink, then revises. "No. Short story. I got my soul back. Now I don't eat people."

[bibliophale]

"I thought you had a soul," says Aziraphale, nodding with interest. "And that's good, good for you. Reformed vampire. Well done indeed." He leans back and rests his head on his hands, gazing up at the stars. "How long have you been... you know. Active?"

[erratic_hematic]

Spike gives Aziraphale a look, brow furrowed and mouth tight, that says he's not terribly enthused with being told 'well done' for managing to not eat people. It smacks of a patronizing attitude, though he doesn't think that's how it was meant.

"Active? You mean when was I turned?" He sniffs and looks up, thinking back while looking at the stars. "Eighteen-eighty."

[bibliophale]

"Ooh!" says Aziraphale with completely inappropriate interest. "What a time that was, eh?" He takes a minute to reflect, trying to remember what he was up to during that time. Some of the decades just blur right together. Crowley had probably been up to something relatively terrible - goodness knows what.

"What a time to be alive," he remarks, meaning the length of it, not so much a celebration of zeitgeist. "Tell me, as an immortal creature, have you come to appreciate the world as much as I have? I'm still trying to survey public opinoin. You see, I stopped Armageddon recently."

Oops. Prideful, Aziraphale, so prideful. Tsk, tsk.

"I mean," he amends, blshing a little. "Not me, really. It was a group effort. But did you notice? A lot of people didn't notice it was even happening. I expect they would have been rather upset."

[erratic_hematic]

Spike really has no interest in answering Aziraphale's first question. He's always enjoyed the world, even before he regained his soul. Appreciating is another thing entirely. Thankfully, he's saved from answering because the angel goes on to mention that he averted the apocalypse.

"You must be from a different dimension. Where I'm from it was me and my friends that did that." He considers for a moment. There was the time he died. That was definitely apocalypse-averting, but there have been a few other times that have come close. "More than once. Depends what you could call an end of the world situation."

Aziraphale may not quite understand how dimensions work

[bibliophale]

Aziraphale sits up a little straighter at that. "You?" he says, quite rudely, actually, and then quickly amends, "I mean - that's some awfully big, cataclysmic work for, you know... regulars." He waves a hand vaguely in Spike's direction. "I mean, Crowley and I are in the direct employ of those Below and Above, but it's not like they'll see just anyone. How'd you even know about the Antichrist, in your... dimension?"

The rest of what Spike has said catches belatedly up with him and he sits forward, frowning now. "More than once? No, no, I'm sorry, that's a one time sort of deal. Averting the ineffable, you know? Not the sort of thing that you just stumble across once in a while." He sits back and goes about drinking, satisifed that he's settled the matter and thoroughly unaware of just how much his angelic obtuseness privilege is showing.