A number of things happened all at once; First, the sight of those large, blood-stained wings spreading out and ruffling themselves defensively and the sound of the threatening hiss coming from the smaller figure made the redheaded Crowley react in kind, his own wings manifesting in an instant, spreading out and mantling in just as much of a threat display as the brunette's as he hissed back, his serpentine tongue darting out to scent the air.
"Wh-J-I don't-who do you think you are?"
He took a step forward, offended at the thought of another snake, and one who dared to wield one of Aziraphale's books as if it were a weapon after he'd only just managed to get them back clashing with the utter bewilderment that seemed to hit him square in the face at the familiar scent-sense of the demon in front of him. Even under the overwhelming odor of blood, there was something unmistakably recognizable about the smaller man-shaped being, though recognizing one's own scent was a little unusual, when it wasn't coming from ones' self.
And behind the traumatized Crowley, Aziraphale's eyes suddenly registered the appearance of his wings as he shoved it between them, both for the unusual color and for their disgusting, blood-caked state. He gasped, stumbling back a step before reaching forward as if to touch before pulling himself up short.
"Oh, God, Crowley, what happened to your wings??? Where are you hurt, why didn't you say anything?"
So distracted was he by his sudden flash of horror that he didn't see the way the other Crowley's eyes darted up at him at the sound of his name from behind his sunglasses before darting right back to the smaller demon. And then back. Nor did he see the moment of boggled realization as his eyebrows arched up over his sunglasses and almost disappeared right up into his hairline as he looked back and forth between the two of them a good five more times in rapid succession before looking the smaller demon up and down another four times alone.
"Wot???"
His jaw dropped open, tongue flicking repeatedly - scenting, scenting, scenting - and if Aziraphale had been paying attention, he would have recognized the sensation of his demonic presence rippling over the two of them as he made the effort of actually looking past mortal eyes and with his true form in the ether, as he saw the same undeniable soul the angel had seen in the park. He hissed again, though to those who were fluent in the language of snakes - and in such late years on the Earth, there were none so fluent in them as those three beings who now currently occupied the bookshop - the sound was one wordless confusion, shock, the snakely equivalent of someone shouting "What the He-...Heav-...fuck is going on???"
There was even a moment when his wings arched up higher, no longer a threatening defensive display but one of a bird who's flown through an open Bentley window as it barrelled down the highway going over 100mph, impacted with the passenger seat, and found itself along for the ride in a vehicle it neither understood nor even cared to. But then Aziraphale's attention snapped back up to him again, and the sound of his name being barked out in the form of an order managed to shake him out of the momentary stupor as he looked up at the angel.
"Stop standing there and go find me a first-aid kit! I think I had one in the upstairs en-suite, in the small linen closet next to the clawfoot bathtub!" Nevermind the fact that Crowley hadn't ever actually been upstairs in the en-suite until now. But he blinked in response, if not a little dumbly, before tucking his wings behind him and racing up the small spiral staircase on the other side of the room.
Which left Aziraphale downstairs with the other Crowley, whom he finally reached out to gently touch, one hand gingerly pressing against his shoulder as he tried to coax him back down and turn him around. His other hand obviously wanted to settle that blood-stained wing into a relaxed position, hovering as it was just next to the leading edge of the primaries. But he was afraid to touch, until he could see what had caused what must have been an immense amount of damage, if they had been left in such a terrible state, and without leaving the demon even enough energy or ability to care about healing them or grooming them.
"Now, there, my boy, don't give him any mind and let's go sit back down, alright? Let me see how severe the damage is, and we'll get them taken care of, I promise."
no subject
"Wh-J-I don't-who do you think you are?"
He took a step forward, offended at the thought of another snake, and one who dared to wield one of Aziraphale's books as if it were a weapon after he'd only just managed to get them back clashing with the utter bewilderment that seemed to hit him square in the face at the familiar scent-sense of the demon in front of him. Even under the overwhelming odor of blood, there was something unmistakably recognizable about the smaller man-shaped being, though recognizing one's own scent was a little unusual, when it wasn't coming from ones' self.
And behind the traumatized Crowley, Aziraphale's eyes suddenly registered the appearance of his wings as he shoved it between them, both for the unusual color and for their disgusting, blood-caked state. He gasped, stumbling back a step before reaching forward as if to touch before pulling himself up short.
"Oh, God, Crowley, what happened to your wings??? Where are you hurt, why didn't you say anything?"
So distracted was he by his sudden flash of horror that he didn't see the way the other Crowley's eyes darted up at him at the sound of his name from behind his sunglasses before darting right back to the smaller demon. And then back. Nor did he see the moment of boggled realization as his eyebrows arched up over his sunglasses and almost disappeared right up into his hairline as he looked back and forth between the two of them a good five more times in rapid succession before looking the smaller demon up and down another four times alone.
"Wot???"
His jaw dropped open, tongue flicking repeatedly - scenting, scenting, scenting - and if Aziraphale had been paying attention, he would have recognized the sensation of his demonic presence rippling over the two of them as he made the effort of actually looking past mortal eyes and with his true form in the ether, as he saw the same undeniable soul the angel had seen in the park. He hissed again, though to those who were fluent in the language of snakes - and in such late years on the Earth, there were none so fluent in them as those three beings who now currently occupied the bookshop - the sound was one wordless confusion, shock, the snakely equivalent of someone shouting "What the He-...Heav-...fuck is going on???"
There was even a moment when his wings arched up higher, no longer a threatening defensive display but one of a bird who's flown through an open Bentley window as it barrelled down the highway going over 100mph, impacted with the passenger seat, and found itself along for the ride in a vehicle it neither understood nor even cared to. But then Aziraphale's attention snapped back up to him again, and the sound of his name being barked out in the form of an order managed to shake him out of the momentary stupor as he looked up at the angel.
"Stop standing there and go find me a first-aid kit! I think I had one in the upstairs en-suite, in the small linen closet next to the clawfoot bathtub!" Nevermind the fact that Crowley hadn't ever actually been upstairs in the en-suite until now. But he blinked in response, if not a little dumbly, before tucking his wings behind him and racing up the small spiral staircase on the other side of the room.
Which left Aziraphale downstairs with the other Crowley, whom he finally reached out to gently touch, one hand gingerly pressing against his shoulder as he tried to coax him back down and turn him around. His other hand obviously wanted to settle that blood-stained wing into a relaxed position, hovering as it was just next to the leading edge of the primaries. But he was afraid to touch, until he could see what had caused what must have been an immense amount of damage, if they had been left in such a terrible state, and without leaving the demon even enough energy or ability to care about healing them or grooming them.
"Now, there, my boy, don't give him any mind and let's go sit back down, alright? Let me see how severe the damage is, and we'll get them taken care of, I promise."