bibliophale: (excuse you | no)
Aziraphale ([personal profile] bibliophale) wrote in [community profile] applesaucedream 2015-10-31 04:54 pm (UTC)

The absurdly loud shriek issuing from somewhere around his knees is enough to upset the glass of punch in his hand, sending it shattering on the floor. He clucks his tongue in great irritation and cleans the mess with a wave of his hand.

Now to that. He didn't even see the... small... red... smoking... devil child standing next to him.

Well, he can roll with that. He's a rolling kind of guy. He rolls. And oddities are always bursting up in dreams, after all.

Still, such a racket must be dealt with.

"Settle down," he says curtly. "What on earth is the matter?"

He has, at this time, completely failed to notice the small plastic red horns nestled in his hair, or the little dragon-like red wings attached to his tweed jacket, or, indeed, the little red tail hanging off his trousers. The pitchfork he had failed to deem worthy of explanation and had left it accordingly on the punch table. Already he's feeling an itch to retrieve it, but that can surely be ignored.

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