Touring New Orleans Square

[soho_angel]

Location: New Orleans Square, duh XD
Mood: Exploratory

"It's not so much ducks, per se," Aziraphale was saying, smiling ruefully. "I quite like them, you know? I could imagine a more terrible fate. It's more not knowing the purpose, and that I seem to have been singled out to return, and I can't fathom why." Tranquil acceptance was easy to

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[anthony_crowley]

Crowley wouldn't say he felt comfortable living in New Orleans Square, but it was better than any of the alternatives. Speaking of uncomfortable...

"Better to be singled out than to not return at all," he mused vaguely, looking out at the Rivers of America and not at Aziraphale. "You should be used to it by now."

The demon didn't like to think about what could have happened instead. Sartre had no idea what he was talking about. Hell was only other people if you didn't like any of them...

[soho_angel]

"True." The angel followed his friend's gaze out across the water, wondering, as he often did, what Crowley was thinking behind those concealing lenses and strange, hard-to-read yellow eyes. At times it wasn't hard to suss out--you learned to read someone after thousands of years, even without the usual cues to go by--but other times the demon was as inscrutible as the serpent he had once played at being.

"So," he ventured after a few moments' pause, "where to first?"

[no1likeher]

"Tag Mr. Neilson! You're it!"

A little red headed girl comes scampering out of an archway next to the ornament shop chased a monkey down Royal Street.

[anthony_crowley]

Enough of a male to be glad of the distraction Pippi provided from talking about 'feelings' and crap, he pointed her out to Aziraphale.

"That's Eli... some girl whose name I don't know. She lives around here somewhere." Crowley then turned and pointed toward the Disney Gallery adjoining Club 33. "Fett lives up there." And he indicated the entrance to the Blue Bayou restaurant that sat under both his - their - rooms and Fett's. "And Rae is in there. I hear she's a decent cook. Vegetarian, though."

He started walking down the road that led to the northern part of New Orleans Square, expecting Aziraphale to follow.

[no1likeher]

With much giggling and chattering, the girl and the monkey continued to barrel down the street towards the two men.

Mr. Neilson made a b-line to zip between Crowley's feet, and Pippi wasn't far behind.

[anthony_crowley]

Crowley stepped casually over Mr. Neilson like he did this sort of thing every day. Demons have amazingly quick reactions and are good at looking cool in the meantime.

"That's the jewelry store," he said again to Aziraphale, ignoring the other two. "Antoinette lives upstairs." It seemed fairly likely that Antoinette would turn into a duck herself soon. It was a lot easier to mourn someone who had never actually existed.

[iron_and_latin]

Sam didn’t recognize either of the men, but there was something that prickled along his spine, just for a moment, as he looked at them. Then it was gone and he fell into step beside his brother, strides purposefully casual.

They jostled back and forth a bit, playfully, and Sam made some off-hand comment about being hungry. They were walking a little faster than the two men, and after a few moments they passed them. Sam glanced sidelong at them, as discreetly as he could manage, and very nearly did a double take.

“Uh, excuse me?” he said to the dark haired man. “Are you the guy who ended up stuck as Jack Sparrow on that day everyone had to talk like pirates?”

[soho_angel]

Aziraphale blinked and looked at Crowley with an inquisitively raised eyebrow. He vaguely recalled meeting a pirate gent that who day bore Crowley a noticeable resemblance (while studiously trying not to recall his own embarrassing getup) but dismissing it as a coincidence at the time.

[anthony_crowley]

Crowley glowered slightly at the man - his memory provided the name Will along with a number of humiliating connotations to go with it - who'd come up alongside them. He didn't particularly like to dwell on those days when he seemingly had no control over his actions, appearance, or affections. For a demon whose control over himself was his shield against the world, it was fairly devastating to lose it on a regular but unpredictable basis.

"What if I am?" he asked curtly, his expression as blank as the lenses in his sunglasses.

[salt_and_burn]

Dean cast a sidelong glance at his brother as he tried not to grin at that mental image.

Back to the task at hand, though. Dean wanted to turn the EMF meter on again to see if its reading had gotten stronger, but it would be hard to manage that without drawing too much attention to the device. The holy water would also be effective, but he couldn't quite justify splashing the two men with water yet. That left the name-of-God test, which he'd never been able to pull off very discreetly, at least not without preamble.

Hoping Sam had a plan, he settled for glancing back and forth between the two men intently as his right hand closed around the water bottle he'd shoved into his pocket.

[iron_and_latin]

“Not something from Christianity,” Sam guessed. “I dunno, the weirdest thing is how they’re so similar but obviously not the same kind of creature. The wings looked the same except for the color…”

They’d reached the First Aid Station, and as much as Sam would’ve liked to put off the inevitable, Dean was right that they shouldn’t leave the creatures alone longer than they had to. Before he could change his mind, Sam stomped determinedly up the steps and knocked on the door.

[sensiblesusan]

Susan opened the door. "Sam Winchester, isn't it?" She took one look at the expression on the men's faces and knew something --

"What's wrong?"

[salt_and_burn]

Dean glanced at Sam, then began, "We're having--uh, a medical emergency over in New Orleans Square. Got anything for burns?"

He didn't sound happy about the situation.

[sensiblesusan]

"How severe?" She'd already turned around a made a beeline for the supply room, not waiting to see if the men were following her.

Antibiotic cream. Bandages. Bloody hell, what else ... Towels, to be soaked in cold water and placed on the burns. There wasn't much else to be done.