Happy Holidays, anjael!
Dec. 4th, 2021 05:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
goe_mod posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
go_exchangeRecipient: anjael
Title: Hell of a Night
Rating – G
Summary: Eric is assigned with a simple mission – deliver an important message to Crowley. Unfortunately, he encounters difficulties.
Beelzebub just wanted to get this over with. Well, that was what they wanted every day, but today was a special day – they were supposed to meet with Dagon for their yearly Earth recreational time. They’d made it a tradition to take it together for the past 300 years, more or less, and Beelzebub was not in the mood to tolerate any reason for missing it. They only got one day per year, and they wanted to make the most of it.
Last year they’d strolled the local market, causing minor shenanigans and some mayhem for the vendors. This time, the plan was low key – first a short hike to a nearby hill for a picnic, and afterwards visiting the museum and making fun of the artists. Sunflowers? Surely humans could do better than that.
But first, this assignment must be delivered. Eric was not the brightest of demons, but he was reliable. At least when he wasn’t late, like he was now.
“Sorry, your lordship!” babbled Eric, running across the big room. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, got discorporated again, you know how it is. But I’m here now, ready for my mission. What would you like me to do? Create havoc with the fishermen? Scare a wealthy man?” Hope started to show on his face as he added, aiming for casual but far off the mark, “Make all the milk sour? That was a real hoot last time!”
The other demon stared at him, waiting for his gibber-gabber to end. When it became clear it wasn’t going to happen in the immediate future, a simple raise of their hand was enough to bring some much-welcome silence.
An envelope was handed off with clear instructions. A time and place were provided, with the simple order, “Don’t come back until it’zzz delivered!” It should be easy enough, they thought: Locate the demon now known as Crowley, hand him the envelope, and make sure he reads it. Beelzebub remembered the last fiasco, resulting with not stopping the Sistine Chapel in time, and had sworn that would never happen again. It was up to Eric to ensure that.
The responsibility now out of their hands, Beelzebub was free to think about the next important task – deciding what to wear. Satisfied that their part in this job was done, they snapped their fingers and vanished in a puff of smoke. The smoke wasn't necessary, strictly speaking, but it was good to add some flair and keep the others on their toes.
The problem was that, like so many other times, the plan didn’t go according to, well, plan. The first obstacle Eric encountered on the way to find Crowley was simply being able to leave Hell. Being a low-ranked demon, and a disposable one, he couldn’t just snap his fingers and transfer himself to the desired destination. He had to walk.
After a few wrong turns, and an almost too-close encounter with a hellhound, he finally made his way to Earth. After the stuffiness of crowded corridors, the fresh air was a welcome change, but soon rain started falling, drenching the demon. It wasn’t a coincidence, Eric thought miserably, taking shelter under a near tree. Crowley was a powerful demon, even though nobody was sure about his actual rank. Eric hadn't trusted Crowley, of course. Be a funny old world if demons went around trusting each other.
After a while the rain stopped, and Eric gathered his wits and tried to focus on his mission. According to the intel from Beelzebub, the demon was meant to be at the Globe. This information was a bit confusing for Eric, who wasn’t sure about the logistics. How could a globe stay in one place and not roll? It was undoubtedly another demonstration of Crowley’s unfathomable powers, and all the more reason to finish this mission as soon as possible.
A few carts passed by, but when the horses saw Eric, they fled and couldn’t be stopped. He was not a big fan of carts anyway. They always lacked sufficient padding, a major design flaw when combining skittish horses and bad roads. After a few false tries, he decided that walking was better, anyway.
He briefly spotted something red on the other side of the street, but the person that the head belonged to was too far away to determine if he was, indeed, the demon he was looking for. For a few seconds Eric thought about following the person, but then rain started falling again and he reconsidered. Instead, he entered the first coffee shop he saw, and ordered hot cocoa. It was not very demonic of him, but desperate times call for desperate actions, and he was, no doubt, desperate to stay dry.
As the minutes passed and the rain lessened, Eric decided to try again. After leaving the relative safety of the coffee shop, he spotted a big sign pointing the way to the Globe. Walking in that direction, he arrived in a matter of a few moments. He was a bit disappointed to find out it was a building, and not even a round one, but life in Hell had taught him to have low expectations. Instead, encouraged by his relative success, he searched through the crowd, but couldn’t find the demon he was seeking.
There were so many people there, all coming to see a bunch of other people dressed in funny clothes and saying words that had already been heard hundreds of times before. So many people had decided to pass their short time on Earth watching it – a show about a prince in a far-away land, nonetheless. Hamlet. What a funny name. It was a real miracle, the success of this whole theater thing.
He saw a tall, ginger-haired person in the distance once more. This time he was close enough to see the flash bastard's signature sunglasses. Eric made his way toward him, relieved that the mission was almost over, but when he tapped on his shoulder, a surprise awaited him. The person had a red head and dark glasses, but it wasn't the demon he was seeking. He sounded displeased to be disturbed, none the less.
“What do you want?” he all but yelled, and Eric hurriedly apologized and retreated. With millennia of experience serving under Beelzebub, he was good at it, but experience didn't make it fun, just easier to find the fastest way out. In his haste, he tripped over the other's pole, comforting himself that he'd touched a blind man without his consent. Beelzebub would no doubt appreciate that; very demonic of him.
Defeated, Eric started walking back toward the stairway to Hell when he saw, yet again, a red head. While observing that person from a safe distance, a second person joined him - one with pale, almost white hair, dressed in tartan. Was it an angel? Were they fraternizing? It could explain all the times he had failed to reach the demon, being thwarted by not only a demon, but an angel as well. Eric knew demons couldn't be trusted, but angels? They were supposed to have the moral high ground and all.
After following the pair for a few minutes, he cautiously approached them. Eric had been thwarted by the powerful demon and an angel over the course of the evening, and he did not want to take chances. Despite being disposable and capable of obtaining a new corporation relatively easily, the paperwork had been a hassle.
Crowley was the first to notice him, stepping forward in a threatening manner, clearly ready for some sort of terrible miracle. Luckily, the angel showed mercy, and calmed the demon. He tried to look harmless as he muttered, "I... I just need to deliver this message. You've foiled my plan every step of the way, please, do not harm me now, mighty adversary," he all but begged.
Much to Eric's surprise, Crowley's lips curled in what appeared to be a smile. "Did you heard that, Aziraphale?" he asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "I haven't foiled anyone, at least not tonight". Taking Eric's envelope from his shaking hands, he took another step forward. "Now be a good demon and run along. We are having dinner with Shakespeare, and you know the rule: two is a company, three is a crowd."
Eric was confused but didn’t want to dwell on it for too long. He didn't care with whom the other demon met, about clashing swords, or about this rule that was obviously made up. He didn’t want to join them, not that either had asked. He just wanted to deliver the assignment and return to Hell. There wasn't anything better he could do there, but at least he knew what to expect. Besides, with Beelzebub taking a day off, he might be able to take a bath in the Sulphur Pool. The smell wasn't pleasant, but it did wonders for his skin.
As Crowley and Aziraphale left, someone else was watching them. Hunched over in a corner and in rags, She stood, ignored by most people, apart from a few who thought She was a beggar, trespassing in an area She had no right to be. Those people were wrong.
As her gaze followed the pair, She was glad that they’d had a quiet night together. Eric had encountered many problems that night, but not all were the result of his incompetence. The angel and demon did not realize, and would not know for a very long time, that it was She who was responsible for their lovely evening due to all of Eric's troubles.
Title: Hell of a Night
Rating – G
Summary: Eric is assigned with a simple mission – deliver an important message to Crowley. Unfortunately, he encounters difficulties.
Beelzebub just wanted to get this over with. Well, that was what they wanted every day, but today was a special day – they were supposed to meet with Dagon for their yearly Earth recreational time. They’d made it a tradition to take it together for the past 300 years, more or less, and Beelzebub was not in the mood to tolerate any reason for missing it. They only got one day per year, and they wanted to make the most of it.
Last year they’d strolled the local market, causing minor shenanigans and some mayhem for the vendors. This time, the plan was low key – first a short hike to a nearby hill for a picnic, and afterwards visiting the museum and making fun of the artists. Sunflowers? Surely humans could do better than that.
But first, this assignment must be delivered. Eric was not the brightest of demons, but he was reliable. At least when he wasn’t late, like he was now.
“Sorry, your lordship!” babbled Eric, running across the big room. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, got discorporated again, you know how it is. But I’m here now, ready for my mission. What would you like me to do? Create havoc with the fishermen? Scare a wealthy man?” Hope started to show on his face as he added, aiming for casual but far off the mark, “Make all the milk sour? That was a real hoot last time!”
The other demon stared at him, waiting for his gibber-gabber to end. When it became clear it wasn’t going to happen in the immediate future, a simple raise of their hand was enough to bring some much-welcome silence.
An envelope was handed off with clear instructions. A time and place were provided, with the simple order, “Don’t come back until it’zzz delivered!” It should be easy enough, they thought: Locate the demon now known as Crowley, hand him the envelope, and make sure he reads it. Beelzebub remembered the last fiasco, resulting with not stopping the Sistine Chapel in time, and had sworn that would never happen again. It was up to Eric to ensure that.
The responsibility now out of their hands, Beelzebub was free to think about the next important task – deciding what to wear. Satisfied that their part in this job was done, they snapped their fingers and vanished in a puff of smoke. The smoke wasn't necessary, strictly speaking, but it was good to add some flair and keep the others on their toes.
The problem was that, like so many other times, the plan didn’t go according to, well, plan. The first obstacle Eric encountered on the way to find Crowley was simply being able to leave Hell. Being a low-ranked demon, and a disposable one, he couldn’t just snap his fingers and transfer himself to the desired destination. He had to walk.
After a few wrong turns, and an almost too-close encounter with a hellhound, he finally made his way to Earth. After the stuffiness of crowded corridors, the fresh air was a welcome change, but soon rain started falling, drenching the demon. It wasn’t a coincidence, Eric thought miserably, taking shelter under a near tree. Crowley was a powerful demon, even though nobody was sure about his actual rank. Eric hadn't trusted Crowley, of course. Be a funny old world if demons went around trusting each other.
After a while the rain stopped, and Eric gathered his wits and tried to focus on his mission. According to the intel from Beelzebub, the demon was meant to be at the Globe. This information was a bit confusing for Eric, who wasn’t sure about the logistics. How could a globe stay in one place and not roll? It was undoubtedly another demonstration of Crowley’s unfathomable powers, and all the more reason to finish this mission as soon as possible.
A few carts passed by, but when the horses saw Eric, they fled and couldn’t be stopped. He was not a big fan of carts anyway. They always lacked sufficient padding, a major design flaw when combining skittish horses and bad roads. After a few false tries, he decided that walking was better, anyway.
He briefly spotted something red on the other side of the street, but the person that the head belonged to was too far away to determine if he was, indeed, the demon he was looking for. For a few seconds Eric thought about following the person, but then rain started falling again and he reconsidered. Instead, he entered the first coffee shop he saw, and ordered hot cocoa. It was not very demonic of him, but desperate times call for desperate actions, and he was, no doubt, desperate to stay dry.
As the minutes passed and the rain lessened, Eric decided to try again. After leaving the relative safety of the coffee shop, he spotted a big sign pointing the way to the Globe. Walking in that direction, he arrived in a matter of a few moments. He was a bit disappointed to find out it was a building, and not even a round one, but life in Hell had taught him to have low expectations. Instead, encouraged by his relative success, he searched through the crowd, but couldn’t find the demon he was seeking.
There were so many people there, all coming to see a bunch of other people dressed in funny clothes and saying words that had already been heard hundreds of times before. So many people had decided to pass their short time on Earth watching it – a show about a prince in a far-away land, nonetheless. Hamlet. What a funny name. It was a real miracle, the success of this whole theater thing.
He saw a tall, ginger-haired person in the distance once more. This time he was close enough to see the flash bastard's signature sunglasses. Eric made his way toward him, relieved that the mission was almost over, but when he tapped on his shoulder, a surprise awaited him. The person had a red head and dark glasses, but it wasn't the demon he was seeking. He sounded displeased to be disturbed, none the less.
“What do you want?” he all but yelled, and Eric hurriedly apologized and retreated. With millennia of experience serving under Beelzebub, he was good at it, but experience didn't make it fun, just easier to find the fastest way out. In his haste, he tripped over the other's pole, comforting himself that he'd touched a blind man without his consent. Beelzebub would no doubt appreciate that; very demonic of him.
Defeated, Eric started walking back toward the stairway to Hell when he saw, yet again, a red head. While observing that person from a safe distance, a second person joined him - one with pale, almost white hair, dressed in tartan. Was it an angel? Were they fraternizing? It could explain all the times he had failed to reach the demon, being thwarted by not only a demon, but an angel as well. Eric knew demons couldn't be trusted, but angels? They were supposed to have the moral high ground and all.
After following the pair for a few minutes, he cautiously approached them. Eric had been thwarted by the powerful demon and an angel over the course of the evening, and he did not want to take chances. Despite being disposable and capable of obtaining a new corporation relatively easily, the paperwork had been a hassle.
Crowley was the first to notice him, stepping forward in a threatening manner, clearly ready for some sort of terrible miracle. Luckily, the angel showed mercy, and calmed the demon. He tried to look harmless as he muttered, "I... I just need to deliver this message. You've foiled my plan every step of the way, please, do not harm me now, mighty adversary," he all but begged.
Much to Eric's surprise, Crowley's lips curled in what appeared to be a smile. "Did you heard that, Aziraphale?" he asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "I haven't foiled anyone, at least not tonight". Taking Eric's envelope from his shaking hands, he took another step forward. "Now be a good demon and run along. We are having dinner with Shakespeare, and you know the rule: two is a company, three is a crowd."
Eric was confused but didn’t want to dwell on it for too long. He didn't care with whom the other demon met, about clashing swords, or about this rule that was obviously made up. He didn’t want to join them, not that either had asked. He just wanted to deliver the assignment and return to Hell. There wasn't anything better he could do there, but at least he knew what to expect. Besides, with Beelzebub taking a day off, he might be able to take a bath in the Sulphur Pool. The smell wasn't pleasant, but it did wonders for his skin.
As Crowley and Aziraphale left, someone else was watching them. Hunched over in a corner and in rags, She stood, ignored by most people, apart from a few who thought She was a beggar, trespassing in an area She had no right to be. Those people were wrong.
As her gaze followed the pair, She was glad that they’d had a quiet night together. Eric had encountered many problems that night, but not all were the result of his incompetence. The angel and demon did not realize, and would not know for a very long time, that it was She who was responsible for their lovely evening due to all of Eric's troubles.
(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-04 03:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-05 08:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-05 05:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-05 08:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-05 10:35 pm (UTC)Kudos!
(From Ri)
(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-06 03:02 am (UTC)“He was a bit disappointed to find out it was a building, and not even a round one, but life in Hell had taught him to have low expectations” This was funny AND sad, poor Eric!
“he might be able to take a bath in the Sulphur Pool. The smell wasn't pleasant, but it did wonders for "his skin.” Oh, good, glad he gets some luxury after all XD
The end! Aw, this was cute! Poor Eric and his endless troubles
(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-15 12:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-16 01:50 am (UTC)