Front Steps of 777 Abby Road, Sunday Evening (02/03)
An angel dressed in jeans and sweater but no shoes, and holding a glass of scotch dangling from his fingers, was perhaps not the most expected thing to see sitting on the front steps of the Divine Leaf. But the shop was closed, so it was really just his home at the moment. And Aziraphale didn't feel like tea tonight, he felt like scotch.
He was wondering if there was something on the wind, to have him feeling so aggressive and cranky. Wilson had suggested he step out to the park and get in some sword practice, but the angel had dismissed the idea when he realized that he'd prefer to actually fight something other than air. So he'd poured himself a drink and gone outside to settle his mind. Or, to at least take the ill-humored vibes out of the house.
Maybe it was just the weather.
[ooc: Cranky angel is cranky, but post, she is open.]
He was wondering if there was something on the wind, to have him feeling so aggressive and cranky. Wilson had suggested he step out to the park and get in some sword practice, but the angel had dismissed the idea when he realized that he'd prefer to actually fight something other than air. So he'd poured himself a drink and gone outside to settle his mind. Or, to at least take the ill-humored vibes out of the house.
Maybe it was just the weather.
[ooc: Cranky angel is cranky, but post, she is open.]