Donquixote Rosinante (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
callada) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
networkinthenight2019-09-16 09:50 am
callada) wrote in networkinthenight2019-09-16 09:50 am
Entry tags:
[Backdated to 9/9] @silent | open
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.]
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.]
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But after returning to his room at the inn to shower and change and have a much needed few minutes to just. Sit and smoke and not think about that nightmare, he makes his way back downstairs to the bar, where he spots Aziraphale easily enough from the stairs. At which point he stumbles and falls the few remaining steps onto the floor. Graceful as always, Rosinante. Whether Aziraphale or anyone else tries to help, he gets himself back up, checks his lantern over, dusts himself off, and walks over, though there's a quick detour to retrieve the pillow he usually leaves in a corner of the room. He places that on the floor at Aziraphale's table and sits, and even on the floor his long legs have to bend awkwardly to fit under the tabletop.]
Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long.
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Not at all, though I would've happily started without you.
Would you-- surely there's a short chair around here you could sit on instead.
I'm so sorry, this entire town must be so inconvenient for you.
[ Like, how does this guy fit on a bed... Can he close the door when he goes to the bathroom? How does he shower?? ]
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[He waves one of the usual bartender spirits over to request a glass and some whisky because it sure has been a day already, then looks to Aziraphale.]
I found it really unusual when I first arrived here that other than Daylight, no one else here matches my height, and that most things seem intended for people like you. I guess Earth doesn't have a lot of variation, does it?
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I had noticed that this world is very much like someplace on Earth.
Is everyone in your world this tall?
[ He also orders something strong, stiff, and possibly tasting of rocket fuel. He definitely needs to take the edge off of that day. ]
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Not everyone, but I'm nothing that remarkable, either. Maybe around half the humans and fishmen I've seen are closer to your height, and then there are some closer to mine, and there are plenty even taller. Twelve, fourteen, twenty feet and up. Giants are even taller.
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Were you perhaps hoping to find one in the water? I think perhaps there might still be giants. Giant spirits, anyway.
[ if this were still Earth, Aziraphale would be absolutely fascinated. But unfortunately, they're in Beacon. ]
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[There's that dry sarcasm of his that turns up on occasion. He just tosses back a drink as if to punctuate that statement.]
I heard that from someone earlier, though, Earth is all humans. Well, and then animals and stuff. Must be lonely.
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[ Other, Aziraphale. ]
--Other humans. Yes.
[ Because he is not, and in fact, he is neither giant nor this size, and this just happens to be the body he's inhabited for six thousand years. He hadn't owned one before that, but that was also before time was invented, so it was hard to know how long he'd spent in that form. ]
Not lonely at all! Though I imagine - giants and fishmen. Yes, I would very much like to meet one. Are they all so different, as humans are?
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The few I've seen, yeah. They don't come up to the surface often. Old feuds, you know.
[To put it extremely mildly, but he doesn't really want to go into the whole history of war and slavery and oppression with someone he's only just met. That has to wait until he's at least a few drinks in.]
Mind if I ask what you are, if not human?
[Might as well just be blunt about it.]
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--I'm.
Well, you see, I was sent to blend in with humans and so I haven't. I'm not very used to telling people who I am, and I.
[ He looks around to make sure no one's listening. ]
I ...suppose it's rather unfair, you wouldn't be able to do that, but I would.
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Silent.
[There's a faint blue-tinted shimmer to the air for a moment, and then anyone else around the bar, carrying on with their own private conversations, or the occasional chirping and squeaking of the spirits that tend the bar - all cease to make any sound at all, though they still certainly look like they're talking.]
It's all right. I think we've all got things we're not used to being able to talk about. Want to try again? They can't hear us.
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[ 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. ]
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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?
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[ 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. ]
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[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.
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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.
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[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?
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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.
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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?
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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?
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[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.
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[ 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.
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[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?
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[ 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.
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[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.
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