[Backdated to 9/9] @silent | open

[callada]

IMPORTANT: I need someone with medical training to meet me at the shoreline near the river. I've found what looks to be my own dead body.

Please hurry.

[Attached is a photo, lit dimly by his lantern, of what does indeed look like his recognizeable corpse floating in the water, hooked through the cheek and attached to a discarded fishing pole lying some feet away on the pebbles.

This is of course in reference to this exploration thread.]

Comments

[lunchbreaks]

Oh. What a lovely trick.

[ He looks around and smiles. He still doesn't particularly want to do this but he feels as if Rosinante has put some trust in him, and he doesn't want to disappoint. Mostly, he doesn't want to be unfair, or to take advantage of anyone's trust.

Smiling, he has a trick of his own. ]

Ah, yes, do busy yourselves with whatever you were doing before.

[ Anyone who might have been looking their way is suddenly not, and not going to notice much of anything.

Which is when Aziraphale takes off his coat, and lets a pair of fluffy white wings unfurl. ]

[callada]

[Oh hell, now there's a power he wished he had. The ability to manipulate sound to some degree is useful, but the ability to actively make people ignore him? Shit. His eyes go wide in appreciation as he notices heads turn away, and as they continue to ignore those wings once unveiled.

Goddamn. Well, that would've helped before he died. He could've gotten so much more information out. Would've made it off Minion alive with Law.

Also hey, neat wings. He contemplates that as he has a drink.]

I've heard of people with wings. Kind of a rare thing, though, where I'm from.

[In fact, other than that prison guard Magellan, he's never seen someone with wings. He'd grown up thinking it was a fairytale, like every kid from North Blue who read about the Liar Noland.]

So, what do your people call yourselves?

[lunchbreaks]

I am... an angel.

[ It feels so nice to say, to confide in someone. He's done it a handful of times already, but to be regarded as a strange being is new, and exhilarating. ]

Quite cramped to be putting the wings away, and they're always a mess after.

But it's fascinating to know there are more on your home. What do you call them? Bird people?

[ He's not really a bird-man at all, really. Definitely not remotely as close as a fishperson is to a fish; Aziraphale would be shocked to find they're not closer to mermen. ]

[callada]

An angel! That's great!

[He's grinning now, genuinely pleased at this. A world where angels are real! Earth gets more and more exciting, for a place he's never been to.]

I'm surprised your wings are so big. Where I'm from, there's an old story called Liar Noland who claimed he met the Shandians. He had this whole island invented that he tried to tell everyone about, like the Shandians were still alive out there somewhere. They were supposed to be like humans, but with white feathered wings. Smaller than your wings, though. I guess they're originally from the Moon, but my ancient history is a little rusty.

[And borderline taboo to even really talk about at home even though it has nothing to do with the Void Century, but nobody will know here.]

There's also a guy named Magellan who works at the government prison. Saw him on a tour once. Taller than me, but with horns and bat wings. I didn't get to ask him what he is. Never seen anyone else like him.

[lunchbreaks]

[ Oh, he has heard of angels! How nice! Aziraphale grows more comfortable already. ]

Ah, possibly a demon. Most of them do not have bat wings, of course, but some do.

[ Like Satan. But he's pretty sure Magellan isn't one of his names, and also pretty sure that Rosinante is just from another world.

He's getting used to this sort of thing. ]

--Was there anyone else from your moon?

There just. Weren't on ours.

[callada]

I don't really know. Like I said, ancient history. There are cultures that claim descent from the moon, but it's not like they can prove it now.

[And there are those who claim descent from the stars beyond. People who would laugh at the notion of angels in the mundane religions of the world, for what are angels to the very gods themselves?

Whole lotta bullshit. Not worth mentioning.]

So, you're an angel, but you have to pretend to be a human? Why's that?

[lunchbreaks]

Ah, well. Most of us live in Heaven. I am the only one who does not. I was sent down to watch the humans, to guide them to goodness and peace. And to enact God's... plan.

I'm certain they'll have replaced me by now, with some other angel who will have to learn all from the start how humans work.

[ He sounds very annoyed about this in particular. All his hard work, gone. ]

Absolutely dreadful.

--But. I couldn't let them know who I was, naturally, because I had to test their faith. And if they knew angels were real, well. That isn't much of a test, is it?

But I suppose it hardly matters here, when we are already dead.

[ He heaves a sigh. ]

Sometimes I just don't know what to do, Rosinante.

[callada]

[Hold on, wasn't there - yes, that's right. More than just stories, he's heard of angels from another person here. Ambrose, who was actually killed by them. For a moment he'd almost forgotten, because experiencing Ambrose's death as he had meant he had seen the angels as monstrous soldiers of God, out to kill those who practiced dark magic.

Rosinante's smile doesn't falter, but some of the nuance does become more clear as he mentally steps back to consider the two sides. On one, a man like Ambrose, a practitioner of dangerous arts. Nice enough guy. Might have deserved the execution he got, as brutal as it was, or might not have. Hard to say. Because on the other side are angels, who deal in justice, who protect the innocent even when protecting means violence. If angels are anything like the Marines he knows, then some are good and earnest in their work, but others can and will abuse their authority.

Maybe it's too simple and he shouldn't compare unknown beings from an unknown world so readily to a situation he's familiar with, but it's always been his job to think things through.]

It's hard, isn't it? Trying to figure out what to do here. We all had jobs at home that mattered in the context of home. Here... I guess you're whoever you want to be, now. I'm curious - when you say you had to test their faith, what exactly does that even mean? What kinds of tests?

[lunchbreaks]

Oh. I don't know, all sorts. People had to die, they had to suffer... And they had to be good and just even through it all, for the promise of Heaven.

If I just come out and say I'm an angel, Heaven is real, then all the humans would naturally behave! But only because someone is watching over them authoritatively, not because they want to. They have to want to.

[ Again, none of that mattered because they were all dead. Heaven wasn't a reality to the people here and they all had a choice to do what they wanted.

So... perhaps he was a free agent.

Perhaps he could tell people.

He was still wrestling with the idea, naturally. ]

Were you-- an astronomer?

[callada]

Mm.

[Filtering out those who are innately honest and moral from those who act based on external forces? He'll have to think later on how he feels about that. Should it matter what a person thinks inside so long as they behave well toward others? Evidently it does matter for angels.]

No, no. A sailor. My world's mostly water, so I was taught the stars as a kid to help navigate if I lost my compass. I didn't have much interest in stars beyond that. Now I kind of wish I'd studied them more.

[lunchbreaks]

Well, I don't think it would've helped much. I don't recognize any of the ones here, I'm afraid. It's very strange... other than that, it almost seems like a place on my Earth.

[ Anyway, he tucks his wings back into his back in order to continue on, without making people look away. ]

And-- if I observe anything, I'll make sure to let you know. Did you see the meteor shower? It was quite brilliant.

[callada]

I did, briefly. I didn't realize it was happening at first, but I caught some of it when I was taking photos for the star map. It was nice.

[A welcome little break in the monotonous darkness. What he wouldn't give to see the sun rise, though.]

This feels like a place on Earth, though, really? Like a specific place you've been?

[lunchbreaks]

Not quite. I think it's just... very similar to pictures I've seen of a place on Earth. America, perhaps. I haven't been in quite some time, myself.

[ By that he means close to a hundred years. But who's counting? ]

Well, I'm glad you're taking control of the project in any case.

[callada]

It's no big deal. I'm hardly doing anything, just noting down what's already there.

[Will is the one doing the real work, running the numbers, trying to make sense of what they're seeing. He's just providing the images. Maybe some of the ideas. More than he would have expected to but as the doctor says, he's not used to seeing the stars from the surface of a world.]

So, if you're an angel that visits Earth, you're actually from Heaven, right? What's it like there? Where I'm from, angels and Heaven and gods are all part of a religion, but not one I know much about.

[lunchbreaks]

Oh yes, that's very common, people who don't know much about us. It's-- white, and very sterile. Lots of paperwork, very exclusive, not terribly much music, no little restaurants... Just... celestial harmonies and prayer.

[ That sounds terrible, Aziraphale. ]

But I don't visit the dead - I was stationed on Earth for a long time. Actually.

[ He hasn't told anyone this yet so even though no one's listening, he drops his voice: ]

I haven't been back for an extended time for six thousand years.

[callada]

[Sounds awful. At least at Marineford there was food and drink and fun conversations to be had with interesting people, if he felt like seeking them out after the paperwork.]

Oh.

[That is... a long time. That's more time than he knows how to comprehend. Huh. His eyes get a little wider just trying to conceive of it.]

That's... So you must have seen a lot in all of that time. Entire kingdoms rising and falling.