Happy Holidays, crowoxy!

[goe_mod]

Title: Fake it till you make it
Summary: To the request of crowoxy, 5 times angels and demons tried to blend in with humans and failed spectacularly, and one time it was successful.
Rating: G

“Come, join us!” the man called cheerfully towards the stranger. The head priest did not know him, which was weird because he knew everyone, but it didn't matter. It was the harvest festival, and people from near and far gathered to celebrate. Everybody was welcomed, and travelers from afar even more, because they had news from distant places and fascinating tales to share.

The stranger looked at him with surprisingly violet eyes. “Thank you for the kind offer, but I have urgent business.” He looked refreshed, despite the fact that there was no other village in the area and he came by foot, meaning he’d walked a long way. “Official business, you know how it is.”

The head priest would not have been in that position for long if he wasn’t stubborn. “Please, I insist. Can’t let others think that we don’t offer hospitality and share our food, right? It will hurt our image, and,” he winked, “from one business person to another, you seem to know all about the importance of the right image.” He gestured again towards the comfortable looking sofa near him, and offered his hand for a shake. “I’m Oded; pleasure to meet you.”

Unable to argue with that logic, the stranger finally sat down. “My name is Gabriel, and your devotion to the village has been noted.” He looked curiously at the dishes on the table. “What are those?”

Before his host had the chance to answer, another man joined the conversation, clearly delighted by the question. “This is my new invention; I call it bread. Here, try some.” The newcomer offered him a flat, white item. “Well, what do you think?”

Gabriel stared at the large piece of… something… that was offered to him. It was his first visit to Earth, about a few hundred years after the project had got the green light, but he’d done his research and knew what was expected of him.

“Your gift is appreciated, cooking human,” he pronounced every word slowly and carefully, congratulating himself on his training. Adjusting to communication with lesser life forms was hard, but Gabriel was quite pleased with the way his voice sounded. “I shall consume it immediately.”

Gabriel chowed down, only to regret it immediately. It was, first, very hot, and while technically his corporal body was not supposed to be influenced by such things, he’d switched off that option for his visit to Earth in order to get the full experience. Secondly, it filled his whole mouth, a weird sensation he’d never felt before, which left him without the ability to breathe or speak. **

** The first thing was not that important because, luckily for him, he hadn’t turned off the “no breathing needed” option, as there was no need to be that savage. The lack of speaking ability, however temporary, was something he was not used to. Good thing none of the other angels were there; Michael wouldn't let him live this down for a very long time.

“Msfh,” was all he could mumble as he struggled to swallow.

“Tasty, right? I need to leave, you stay here and enjoy the rest of the dishes.”

The man left in a hurry, along with the priest, which confused Gabriel even further. Wasn’t his company pleasant? He’d done the best he could to adjust his intellectual level to that of the humans, despite how hard it was, and it seemed they’d managed to understand him. Weird.

Now that he no longer had to conceal his discomfort, Gabriel opened his mouth to let some fresh air in and cool it, which brought only mild relief. A quick glance towards the table revealed a discarded half-full glass, and he hurried to drink it, hoping it would flush the food away. Much to his surprise, the semi-transparent liquid hadn’t helped. In fact, instead of being cool and smooth, as all the information available about water described it, the liquid tasted like fire and intensified the burning sensation in his mouth.

The supreme archangel Gabriel looked around, made sure no one saw him, and gestured with his hand. He sighed with relief as the burning sensation disappeared, and promised to himself that this was the first and last time he would consume gross matter.

---

After the successful delivery of the Antichrist, the pair felt like celebrating. The goal they had been working for all those years was closer than ever, just a few years away, and what would be a better time to celebrate than the present? Besides, Crowley would not shut up about how great Earth was, so they might as well explore it before it would be too late.

They walked in cold, dark and lonely streets, just the way they liked it. Gradually the sun came out from its hiding place, and more and more people filled the streets.

“I don’t know why Crowley is so excited about this planet, there isn't a pool of sulphur for miles around,” complained Ligur.

Hastur shook his head in despair. “Always said, don’t trust a demon, especially Crowley. Let’s get back to the elevator.”

As they walked back, Ligur’s lizard suddenly chirped in excitement. “What is it, dear? Saw something you like?” The demon looked around and saw a pet shop. “Do you want a treat?” He cooed at it, unbothered by Hastur’s eye roll, and after the lizard chirped happily in confirmation, walked in and started to browse the store.

“Welcome-to-Animal-Lovers-how-may-I-hel…” the young human faltered in the middle of their usual customer-greeting speech, as they approached the pair and stared with wide eyes. Ligur smiled in satisfaction, proud of his ability to scare humans, but the smile was wiped from his face when the person recovered from their shock. “What a lovely lizard! I haven’t seen one like that in a while!”

Ligur groaned in annoyance, but he had more important things on his mind than educating the rude person to show proper respect. One of those things literally sat on his head, and now stretched and chirped excitedly towards one of the shop’s corners. The demon walked there, guided by the noises from the lizard, and examined the packages. “Dried crickets coated with banana? Is that what you want?”

The noises the lizard made clarified that yes, indeed, they were very interested in that, and Ligur opened the bag and started feeding his beloved lizard. The seller, though, who until that point had merely watched in fascination, was scandalised.

“Sir, you must stop it at once. It is against store policy to feed the animals inside the premises!”

The lizard started to stress from the noise, and Ligur’s mood clouded. “Let’s go, Hastur, I believe we’ve seen enough. Dry crickets or not, I will not be sorry to see this planet in ruins 11 years from now.”

The demons turned as one to leave the place, but the salesperson chased them. “Gentlemen, you haven’t paid for the treat!”

Hastur’s patience, which had never been great, was about to expire. “Enough babbling! Silence, human, or your fate will be worse than death.”

Without flinching, the person looked at them and said in a determined voice: “If my boss discovers I allowed customers to feed a pet in the shop, and then let them walk away without paying, it will indeed be very bad.”

So far, that threat had worked every time, and Hastur had not had to execute it. Now, he was at a loss as to what to do. On any other day, he would feast on the person himself, but now they had strict orders not to hurt anyone. And, as much as Hastur wanted to hurt humans, not hurting himself was a higher priority.

“Fine,” he grumbled, pulled some coins out of his grubby coat, left there from the pair's last visit to Earth, and threw them dismissively on the floor. “That should cover it.”

The person crouched to collect the coins, annoyed by the rude behaviour. One look at them, though, was enough to turn that annoyance into joy. “Thank you,” they shouted towards the retreating demons, “these rare coins are worth thousands!”

---

Goleshel was very excited to try their new instrument on Earth, and to experience real gravity for the first time. There was a special room that simulated it, up There, but it was just not the same. As the elevator went down they bounced on their heels, and after a time that seemed like forever ** the door finally opened with a cheerful whistle and they hurried to get out.

** Who knows? Time is measured differently in Heaven.

The first few steps took some adjustments, but Goleshel was a quick learner and got the hang of the whole gravity thing quite fast. A short walk brought them to the skate park, and they entered, eager to begin their adventure.

“Where is your gear, kid?” A heavy hand landed on their shoulder, stopping their progress towards the training bowl.

“Gear?” they asked in puzzlement. The archangel who’d approved the visit had emphasised the importance of discretion, and not to bring anything that could identify them as angels.

With a loud sigh, the person explained: “Helmet and knee pads, can’t go inside without them.”

Goleshel perked up. “Oh, I don’t need them, nothing bad can happen to me.”

Surprisingly, the human was not satisfied with the answer. “Sarah!” The loud voice was unexpected, and Goleshel flinched. The person continued shouting, apparently to Sarah, whoever that was. “Got another smartypants here! Please bring the kit!”

Not sure what it meant, but not wanting to draw more attention (another one of the things the archangel forbade), Goleshel waited patiently. After a few moments the kit in question was brought to them, and they stifled a sigh of their own. It was dirty, smelly and colourful, but the owner of the heavy hand and the loud voice made it clear that without wearing it they wouldn't be allowed to skate.

Putting on the equipment took some time (who knew dressing up without using miracles could be that hard), but at last all straps were stretched, ties knotted and adjustments made, and they got permission to enter into the bowl.

Finally allowed to get on the training arena, another problem presented itself - it was nothing like Heaven. Gravity made everything harder, for start, but there were other obstacles they hadn’t predicted. Humans, or, to be more precise, the one who just bumped into them, causing both to fall loudly on the hard ground.

“Ouch,” said the other person, followed closely with, “Cool skateboard!”

“Thank you,” answered Goleshel politely, trying (and failing) to conceal their pride. It was good to have your work appreciated, even if only by a mere human and not the other angels. “I made it myself.”

That simple statement was a mistake, apparently, because Goleshel was swamped with a wave of questions they most certainly couldn’t answer (“What material is that? Which tools did you use? Where did you buy the colour? Who made the art? What is that symbol?”) without disclosing their origin. After a moment it all became a bit too much and they left, confused and overwhelmed, vowing never to use it again on Earth, and to confine themself to Heaven.

---

Taking the Hellhound for a walk involved dealing with a creature from Hell, which was an integral part of the mission description, but also meant getting away from there for a while. And everything, absolutely everything, was better than being there. Besides, over the years Eric had gotten even worse assignments, so all things considered, it was not too bad.

The elevator ride was fast, or at least fast enough to not allow the Hellhound to eat any of the Erics **. As the doors finally opened, all four, legion and Hellhound alike, left the elevator with a sense of relief. The Hellhound dragged the Eric that held the leash, forcing them to run after it, and the others hurried to join the pair.

** Still, they congratulated themselves on the decision to take a small legion for the trip, a precaution to lower the chance of all of them being discorporated and all Hell(hound) breaking loose.

Things went rather well for a while, until the Hellhound spotted a group of kids coming towards them, and started to growl and advance in a menacing way, while the Erics unsuccessfully tried to stop it. Suddenly, a shriek pierced the crisp air. The Erics flinched, and even the Hellhound stopped in its tracks and cocked its head in curiosity. Usually, others made that sound after the hound had started to munch on them, not before.

“You are so cute!" The shriek transformed into words, but kept the same high-pitched quality. “Aren’t you a sweetie!”

The Erics and the Hellhound stared at each other in confusion. It had been called many names, but all were on the range between “terrible” and “scary”, and with a different kind of shriek.

The kids ran towards them, as Erics and the Hellhound took a step back. The Erics’ reaction was understandable, because usually it meant people wanting something from them, and that never ended well for them, but the Hellhound… Well, it was just not used to people running towards it, and not the other way around.

“Funny ears!” shouted one of the kids, followed by “stinky breath,” accompanied by “it will look adorable with a pink collar”. The Hellhound growled and barked, but that only made the kids even more excited. One of them lifted a branch from the side of the road, and the Hellhound smiled in satisfaction. Finally, the amusement it was looking for. The kids waved the stick, making sure the Hellhound was focused on it, but instead of trying to defend themselves the kid threw it away. “Here, good dog, fetch!”

The Hellhound fought the desire to wag its tail, and a decision was made. It ran, faster than it ever ran before, back towards the elevator, dragging along the two Erics that held its leash (the third struggled to keep pace). A person can say many terrible things about Hell, and most of them were true, but at least there the Hellhound got the respect it deserved.

---

It was just another mission, boring like all of the others she’d done before. Michael was still not sure why she had to bother with mingling with humans, but hadn’t dared to ask for an explanation. It probably wouldn’t do any good to tell the Almighty that she disliked Earth, Her flagship project, or that she even had questions. So, the archangel took a metaphysical breath and got out of the elevator.

Her senses were attacked all at once, and she scolded herself for not muting them. It had been so long since her last visit (though still not long enough), and she had forgotten about that part. A quick and discreet hand gesture fixed it, and now the world was a bit less noisy and colourful. Humans, she shuddered. They always have to be so dramatic.

“That’s wicked!” called a nearby human, returning her to reality. Oh, right, she had a mission to do, and it would be best to finish it as early as possible. Part of the instructions was to communicate with the locals, and now seemed like a good time.

“I can assure you that I am just the opposite of that, young one.”

The kid (Was it a kid? The training had included the various stages of the human life cycle, but between the hair on their face and the too-big clothes it was hard to estimate accurately) stared at her. “I mean, the cosplay is cool, and the make-up is awesome. Which one are you?”

The instructions had also recommended that they should not reveal their identities on first contact, but, never good at lies, she answered the truth: “I am the supreme archangel Michael.”

“Never heard of them before. Which fandom is that?”

Fandom? That word was not part of the briefing. After a moment of confusion, she remembered that humans have a thing called dialects, so even people who spoke the same language might pronounce the same word in a different way. Encouraged by her quick success at understanding the human, she hurried to assure them. “I am a true angel of the Lord, not a phantom.”

Much to her surprise, the kid chuckled in delight. “Staying in character, that’s great! I’m going to a LARP, wanna join?”

That word sounded nothing like any dialect she learned about during her preparations, but, true to her mission, she accepted the offer and both walked towards an open arena, already full with other humans in various stages of their physical development. She stopped at the gate of the arena to examine the area, and was pleasantly surprised to see that some people wore shields and helmets, and almost everybody carried swords of some kind.

She discreetly manifested her own shield and sword, eager to practice, but a big man stopped her. “Sorry, but you know the rules, no real weapons.”

Michael bristled. “How are you supposed to fight with a fake weapon?” she demanded to know in her most authoritative voice. Much to her surprise, the man was not impressed.

“That attitude won’t get you far in life. You are banned till the end of the day, so better run along.” He looked at her with finality, turned his back and started talking with the next person in line, blocking the entrance with his sheer physicality.

Sword in hand, Michael was about to use it, but noticed everybody was looking at her with horror. Unwilling to fight them all ** she mumbled, “Be not afraid,” and fled the place.

** She was more than willing, actually, but that was against her orders.

As she left, she heard the kid who invited her shouting, “I knew you were wicked!”

---

Hieradulous was summoned to Gabriel’s office, only to be scolded. Again. So what if all he wanted to do was to bask in the sun? Wasn’t that why God had created it in the first place, for all the creatures of Her creation to enjoy its warmth? Maybe he should have taken some more of the chores on himself, that’s true, but everything was so boring. Much better to ride solar flares than organising the scrolls in the archives by alphabet every time the language changed.

For a while, he succumbed to the routine, and tried to do better, be better. Time passed, as was its habit, and Hieradulous started to get bored again. Not a very angelic thought, but he was created to Look Cute and criticise any art created, not as The Angel of Hard Work, and if God created him that way, that should be enough for others. Sadly, some angels thought it was not enough, with “some” meaning Gabriel, mostly, who took it upon himself to toughen up the lazy angel.

Now, he had been given a mission that should be easy enough “even for him,” as Gabriel pointed out (a bit too) loudly. Hieradulous sighed, took the elevator to Earth, and started to walk the narrow streets of Giza, slowly making his way between the food and clothes for sale on the way to the pyramid. The walk should have taken only a few minutes, but Hieradulous found it impossible to walk without stopping to look at all the interesting things.

After a while, he saw a tiny kitten basking in the sun, and couldn’t resist the temptation. Slowly, as to not scare it, he sat next to it and gingerly pet its fur. The kitten stretched, licked itself, stepped right into Hieradulous’ lap, and shown no signs of ever wanting to move from there.

“What are you doing here? And what is this awful creature? You should have been at the temple in the morning, and now it is almost lunch time!”

Hieradulous recognised the voice immediately as belonging to the high priest, a man who’d put the fear of Gods in the hearts of humans for as long as people there could remember. Luckily for him, Hieradulous was not human.

“The explanation is simple, high priest. That animal you have been so unkind to is an embodiment of the divine, and should be respected as such. Look how gracefully it moves, the way it controls its body perfectly.” The angel smiled sweetly, aware of the effect he had on people. Nobody could stay mad with him for long, and he did not hesitate to take advantage of this fact.

“Actually, I think that cats should be worshipped, as a constant reminder that the gods are with us all the time, and they want us to have a nap.” He added a little bit of persuasion into his voice, a cool trick he’d learned at the last office party from someone who was almost as cool as him (the sunglasses were a tad too much, though).

The high priest nodded, transfixed by the movements of the cat, who chased a sunbeam. “Cats are gods, yes, that makes perfect sense.”