applesaucedream | Encampment Under the Sea [Open to All]

photo encampmentunderthesea_zps98ceddce.jpg

Since the dreamers of Manhattan had such a lovely time at the last vaguely-nautical-themed party, the Rift has decided to step things up a notch. Tonight, the dreamers will find themselves in what appears to be a city very much like the one they inhabit in the waking world, full of towering skyscrapers, neon signs, and heavy traffic. But there is one rather crucial difference: this city is located deep underwater, and the aforementioned traffic is mostly whales and fish, with the occasional submersible thrown into the mix.

The walls and windows are heavily reinforced to withstand the pressure of the water outside, and the people who dwell in these buildings seem to be doing rather well for themselves, for the most part. Buildings are connected by enclosed walkways, so barring any horrible accidents, the dreamers should have no problem getting around without getting too wet.

Much like the city they inhabit in the waking world, some areas are more obviously affluent than others, and the dreamers are as likely to stumble upon an upscale club as an underwater pub. But while the chances of a full structural breakdown are slim, there are definitely some areas that are on the leaky side, and a general sense of claustrophobia pervades the city wherever you might find yourself.

Explore. Or, if you're feeling particularly ambitious, attempt to escape. Either way, take care - it's hard to say what might be lurking in the darkness just beyond the city lights.

[ooc: Y'all know the drill. All characters are welcome, whether they are in the game or not. Characters can remember or forget the events of the dreaming at the player's discretion. And the party never stops - backtag into infinity!]

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Oh good, we're back to this. Aziraphale feels increasingly like a cornered animal, harried and ragged and trapped. Liable to do something stupid, something else stupid that is, if he thinks he has a chance at escaping (and he knows he doesn't).

"It's just sensible," he all but sputters. "It - it simplified things for us, that's all. The Authorities always looked the other way, or didn't even care in the first place, it's not as though they didn't have plenty more on their minds, and who are we to be of any interest to them?"

This is sounding hysterical. And it may be an openly desperate punt meant to imply Lucifer is wasting his time on them, that really, there are so many more interesting people out there. Which is so cowardly Aziraphale feels a bit sick.

"But you didn't make much effort to keep them well-informed, did you?"

The lady is protesting too much. He's making excuses, too many excuses all at once, and he is clearly terrified that Lucifer will press him on it. That he'll discover this great secret between himself and Crowley.

"When they wanted reports from you, I'm sure you told them all about your great efforts to thwart your clever adversary. And about how necessary it was that you stayed assigned where you were, because who knows what could happen if such a competent foe were to be left unchecked."

"I did my work," says Aziraphale, his voice rising sharply, losing patience for the interrogation. "What does it matter to you what I did, or why or how? I don't answer to you." His contempt is seeping through again, and he can't stop it, panic taking him through the conversation like a deranged animal through a burning field. Maybe he'll just wake up before this inevitably blows up in his face. Just wake up and never go outside ever again.

"You don't," he says with a lazy shrug. That much is very true; Aziraphale answers to his Heavenly superiors, to Michael, not to him. But this really isn't all about Aziraphale to begin with.

"Crowley does."

The other half of this peculiar equation.

Aziraphale goes quite still and cold at that, blinking behind his glasses. Stupid, just walked right into it.

"He doesn't," he says, so quiet and thin it's almost a hiss. "You have no jurisdiction over this world, or over him. I already told you. He - he is not your servant."

His voice is shaking now, along with his hands. Like he doesn't quite have the conviction to back up his words.

"You can say whatever you like."

He could go around saying that Crowley's the Queen of Sheba if it pleases him, but it wouldn't make it any more the truth.

"But if I tell him 'jump', he'll still be asking 'how high and when can I come down'?"

He is still Crowley's lord, even if he isn't the one from his universe.

"Stay away from him," says Aziraphle abruptly, his voice coming low and distant, like a growl, like something that doesn't belong to him. He takes a step toward the Adversary, drawing himself up, absurdly, like he has anything to follow this with. Internal voices are screaming at him to stop (which is to say nothing of his expectation for what Crowley himself will think), but he can't seem to heed any of it. He takes another step and hears himself say, "If you tell him anything, it will be me who answers you."

"Aziraphale," he says, calm and cool and oh-so-reasonable, "don't you think it's about time you dropped this guard-dog act?"

He does not move when Aziraphale takes those few steps forward; he doesn't need to try to intimidate him back, because Aziraphale already knows what he can do, even when the angel hasn't been knocked down a few pegs. This is all bluff and bluster, like a cat puffing itself up to make itself look bigger, and Lucifer is not impressed.

"It's nice to see loyalty these days, but is throwing yourself at me at every opportunity really what Crowley wants from you? It's a touch on the suicidal side."

This is not what he'd expected, and it makes him falter a bit. He suddenly feels very foolish, posturing like this, reckless and dangerously brash, but he imagines that's what Lucifer wants him to feel - hopeless in addition to helpless. And he won't. Even if it means allowing the Adversary to be the voice of reason, he will not give ground.

"I don't care what he wants," he says, blunt and a little surprised at himself. "And it's not an act. I will not allow you to use him and that's all. I damaged you once and I can do if again, to whatever extent is necessary."

Pure, idiotic bravado. What he ought to say is 'I will die before I stand down' but he can't quite bring himself to say that. It would almost seem an invitation.

And yet the surprise at not having been physically harmed thus far is starting to get to him, making him wonder if perhaps he could just walk away. He leans his weight back slightly, as though preparing to pivot around.

"I have nothing more to say."

Edited 2014-10-05 07:05 (UTC)

"Selfish, Aziraphale. Selfish and arrogant. Don't you know pride is a Deadly Sin?"

Because if it isn't about what Crowley wants when this is about Crowley, than it's what Aziraphale wants. It's about Aziraphale thinking that he knows what's best for the other, without taking into account what he has to say on the matter. Like Crowley is a child who needs an adult to take care of his bullies on the playground, like he isn't capable of solving his own problems or can't be trusted to seek help when he requires it.

"And you and I both know that your blade can't kill me. So if you don't mind, this whole song and dance is starting to get a little old."

"You're one to talk," mutters Aziraphale. He doesn't understand, can't, won't. Crowley can't be trusted to seek help, won't fight his own battles, will go along with this because he feels he has to, and in the old days that would have just been business, wouldn't it? But this is different. This is a different Satan, crueler and more petty than theirs, and magnified far greater than ever before, given that they're all trapped in this Manhattan birdcage. If Crowley won't fight back, Aziraphale has to, regardless of what Crowley wants him to do. Crowley's reasons are just as selfish. Even if he won't admit it.

"I could not agree more," he says coolly, and turns on his heel to walk away.

Turning your back on the Devil? Exceptionally arrogant, right there. Lucifer could do all sorts of nasty things with an opportunity like that, but thankfully for Aziraphale, that's not his goal right now.

So he lets him go. It better suits his purposes that way.

"See you soon, Aziraphale."

It's spoken like a threat and a promise.

Encampment Under the Sea [Open to All]

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