Antia was not about to take that little jab lightly. She was already on edge with this clearly fake Aziraphale not even knowing Elisha or having the decency to pretend. She hissed again and snapped at the wind as it drew close. Not that even that would be enough to cause harm.
"How dare you, you-you-you imposter!" Snap. "Go away before you hurt us again!" Snap. "Not that it was exactly your fault since you can't be Aziraphale and it wasn't his fault either." Snap. "But We've been through enough that I'm not letting him be fooled by whoever you are!"
Crowley heard what Antia was squeaking at the top of her tiny lungs, but he frankly didn't care at this point. He didn't have the wherewithal to think too deeply about what she was saying. Not when Aziraphale was here and warm and real and present and alive. He got up gingerly as that release of emotion had rather drained him.
He would have appreciated the gesture more, had Aziraphale not tried to pull off the sleight-of-hand magic. Even with as tired and emotional as he was, he could not help the visceral embarrassment that crossed his face. The sunglasses weren't exactly his style (he tended to wear Ray-bans a lot), but he could get behind them.
He started to take the sunglasses when everything in his being gave way to anxiety with Aziraphale's comment. Paint on his coat meant... Tadfield... When was he dropped? Was the apocalypse impending? Maybe they had time to get away. It would be tetter to be labeled a deserter than a traitor, right?
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rosecarmine
(no subject)
Date: 2020-04-06 05:23 am (UTC)"How dare you, you-you-you imposter!" Snap. "Go away before you hurt us again!" Snap. "Not that it was exactly your fault since you can't be Aziraphale and it wasn't his fault either." Snap. "But We've been through enough that I'm not letting him be fooled by whoever you are!"
Crowley heard what Antia was squeaking at the top of her tiny lungs, but he frankly didn't care at this point. He didn't have the wherewithal to think too deeply about what she was saying. Not when Aziraphale was here and warm and real and present and alive. He got up gingerly as that release of emotion had rather drained him.
He would have appreciated the gesture more, had Aziraphale not tried to pull off the sleight-of-hand magic. Even with as tired and emotional as he was, he could not help the visceral embarrassment that crossed his face. The sunglasses weren't exactly his style (he tended to wear Ray-bans a lot), but he could get behind them.
He started to take the sunglasses when everything in his being gave way to anxiety with Aziraphale's comment. Paint on his coat meant... Tadfield... When was he dropped? Was the apocalypse impending? Maybe they had time to get away. It would be tetter to be labeled a deserter than a traitor, right?
"A-Angel... Let'sss get out of here."