Good Omens: Missing generation (7/12)
Title: Good Omens: Missing generation (7/12)
Pairings: Late Aziraphale/Crowley, hinted Adam/Pepper, hinted OC/OC (likely to develop in future fic)
Warnings: None as long as you've read Good Omens
Summary: What if Crowley and Aziraphale weren't the only agents on Earth? What if there had been another pair, there all along but simply forgotten - lost - from the story? View the Apocalypse-that-wasn't through the eyes of their two respective students, Damian and Muriel, and find out the truth of the missing generation!
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The first report that came in about the nuclear power plant issues was missed by Muriel and Damian, as they were busy arguing over the pros and cons of the internet. It was just beginning to grow in developments, and there was some unrest over who had thought of it. Anyway, Damian had said, it's like with 3D televisions. It was something out of a science fiction novel, and would probably be a phase, in a similar respect to that of the quiff. Muriel wasn't so sure, but a part of her hoped that the demon would be proven correct.
The second time, the pair had stopped off at a motorway services station in order to stretch out a bit, and so they missed it again.
But the third time, they heard it alright.
'-And there is still some confusion over the sudden disappearance of the contents of a nuclear reactor in eastern England.'
Muriel blinked, before turning up the volume on the radio. She glanced over at Damian in concern as they listened to the report. It was hard not to laugh, however, at the spokesman's retorts. You could tell that the poor man was most likely thinking about leaving his occupation after the incident that had just occurred. This sounded like what was possibly the first report on the goings on with the reactor, and if it hadn't been so severely dangerous the idea would have been hilarious.
'Not... misplaced. I wouldn't say that.'
Glancing over at her demon counterpart once again, her eyebrows rose. "Well... that wasn't entirely expected. But I guess it proves he's out there still. Although... why would he do something like that?" She mused.
Damian shrugged. "As we already know, the kid has no idea who or what he really is. It was probably a freak accident. Maybe his 'parents' mentioned something about how dangerous nuclear power was?" He replied, focusing once again on the road and positioning himself a good 3 miles per hour over the limit - enough to be speeding, but not enough to look out of place and be stopped.
Muriel nodded, showing her understanding. Fortunately, it cut down the search area to lower England. Unfortunately, it wasn't much to cut down by. After all, it wasn't as if there were nuclear reactors in every town - they were fairly spread out.
The report finished abruptly after the spokesman's cutting response, the reporter obviously more than slightly stunned. So Muri sat back and started to read one of the few small books she had brought with her. It was true that Aziraphale was the main dealer with the obscure books, but Muriel also had a decent collection back at her house, and so she'd been able to bring some with her.
The one she was currently reading had obviously been written with some exaggerations within it - the person had apparently always dreamed of becoming a popular author. After all, Muri severely doubted that the sharks and 'wilde beastes of the deepe' would begin to take on a humanoid form and start destroying the earth. If it was true, however, she hoped that they would at least start with the tourism hotspots - they were infuriating places for the angel.
A few hours later, there was another odd report. This time they had needed to pull into the nearest services station as both had tears of laughter running down their faces. Once they'd finally regained control, they turned to face each other - and promptly started laughing again. This time, however, it sounded slightly closer to hysteria. After all, this meant that the boy was getting more powerful, and that they were very quickly running out of time.
Eventually, Muri had simply climbed out of the car, into the drizzle that had developed, and sat with her back against a tree in the car park. She rested her forehead on her crossed arms, which were wrapped around her legs. A minute later, she heard footsteps approaching and looked up. Damian was standing in front of her, hair slowly being plastered to his head.
"We're screwed, aren't we?" he asked. All she could do was nod. They stayed silent for a pause, before the demon sighed. "Come on. This is weird, especially with you. You are not meant to give up, after all. Goes with the job description for you lot. Bloody annoying optimists, the lot of you." He muttered. Muriel chuckled.
"Well, yes, but that's to counteract your blunt pessimism. Something is needed, otherwise the balance is lost. And you're right, I shouldn't lose hope - there's still time, and we aren't the only ones out there looking for him. There is still a chance, small though it is." She said with a confident tone that she'd only just managed to fake. After all, she was trying to keep both of their hopes up, otherwise the temptation to simply give up and sit back for the show became too great.
The demon bit his lip, but nodded. Then he sighed. "Well, now we've had that - frankly awkward - pep talk, can we at least go inside? I'd like another coffee, and you know how much I hate the rain." He asked, fidgeting from both the aforementioned awkwardness and the also aforementioned hatred of bad weather. He really did hate those types of moments between the pair of them, especially considering the fact that they had increased over the past few decades. It didn't do his demonic credentials any good whatsoever, and often caused his ego to take on the same wet, rumpled appearance hewas currently sporting.
The angel nodded, allowing him to help her up before they both headed into the services cafe, remarkably dry considering the trek to the building, and the current weather.
One could almost call it a miracle, if you believed in such things.
Pairings: Late Aziraphale/Crowley, hinted Adam/Pepper, hinted OC/OC (likely to develop in future fic)
Warnings: None as long as you've read Good Omens
Summary: What if Crowley and Aziraphale weren't the only agents on Earth? What if there had been another pair, there all along but simply forgotten - lost - from the story? View the Apocalypse-that-wasn't through the eyes of their two respective students, Damian and Muriel, and find out the truth of the missing generation!
-
-
-
The first report that came in about the nuclear power plant issues was missed by Muriel and Damian, as they were busy arguing over the pros and cons of the internet. It was just beginning to grow in developments, and there was some unrest over who had thought of it. Anyway, Damian had said, it's like with 3D televisions. It was something out of a science fiction novel, and would probably be a phase, in a similar respect to that of the quiff. Muriel wasn't so sure, but a part of her hoped that the demon would be proven correct.
The second time, the pair had stopped off at a motorway services station in order to stretch out a bit, and so they missed it again.
But the third time, they heard it alright.
'-And there is still some confusion over the sudden disappearance of the contents of a nuclear reactor in eastern England.'
Muriel blinked, before turning up the volume on the radio. She glanced over at Damian in concern as they listened to the report. It was hard not to laugh, however, at the spokesman's retorts. You could tell that the poor man was most likely thinking about leaving his occupation after the incident that had just occurred. This sounded like what was possibly the first report on the goings on with the reactor, and if it hadn't been so severely dangerous the idea would have been hilarious.
'Not... misplaced. I wouldn't say that.'
Glancing over at her demon counterpart once again, her eyebrows rose. "Well... that wasn't entirely expected. But I guess it proves he's out there still. Although... why would he do something like that?" She mused.
Damian shrugged. "As we already know, the kid has no idea who or what he really is. It was probably a freak accident. Maybe his 'parents' mentioned something about how dangerous nuclear power was?" He replied, focusing once again on the road and positioning himself a good 3 miles per hour over the limit - enough to be speeding, but not enough to look out of place and be stopped.
Muriel nodded, showing her understanding. Fortunately, it cut down the search area to lower England. Unfortunately, it wasn't much to cut down by. After all, it wasn't as if there were nuclear reactors in every town - they were fairly spread out.
The report finished abruptly after the spokesman's cutting response, the reporter obviously more than slightly stunned. So Muri sat back and started to read one of the few small books she had brought with her. It was true that Aziraphale was the main dealer with the obscure books, but Muriel also had a decent collection back at her house, and so she'd been able to bring some with her.
The one she was currently reading had obviously been written with some exaggerations within it - the person had apparently always dreamed of becoming a popular author. After all, Muri severely doubted that the sharks and 'wilde beastes of the deepe' would begin to take on a humanoid form and start destroying the earth. If it was true, however, she hoped that they would at least start with the tourism hotspots - they were infuriating places for the angel.
A few hours later, there was another odd report. This time they had needed to pull into the nearest services station as both had tears of laughter running down their faces. Once they'd finally regained control, they turned to face each other - and promptly started laughing again. This time, however, it sounded slightly closer to hysteria. After all, this meant that the boy was getting more powerful, and that they were very quickly running out of time.
Eventually, Muri had simply climbed out of the car, into the drizzle that had developed, and sat with her back against a tree in the car park. She rested her forehead on her crossed arms, which were wrapped around her legs. A minute later, she heard footsteps approaching and looked up. Damian was standing in front of her, hair slowly being plastered to his head.
"We're screwed, aren't we?" he asked. All she could do was nod. They stayed silent for a pause, before the demon sighed. "Come on. This is weird, especially with you. You are not meant to give up, after all. Goes with the job description for you lot. Bloody annoying optimists, the lot of you." He muttered. Muriel chuckled.
"Well, yes, but that's to counteract your blunt pessimism. Something is needed, otherwise the balance is lost. And you're right, I shouldn't lose hope - there's still time, and we aren't the only ones out there looking for him. There is still a chance, small though it is." She said with a confident tone that she'd only just managed to fake. After all, she was trying to keep both of their hopes up, otherwise the temptation to simply give up and sit back for the show became too great.
The demon bit his lip, but nodded. Then he sighed. "Well, now we've had that - frankly awkward - pep talk, can we at least go inside? I'd like another coffee, and you know how much I hate the rain." He asked, fidgeting from both the aforementioned awkwardness and the also aforementioned hatred of bad weather. He really did hate those types of moments between the pair of them, especially considering the fact that they had increased over the past few decades. It didn't do his demonic credentials any good whatsoever, and often caused his ego to take on the same wet, rumpled appearance hewas currently sporting.
The angel nodded, allowing him to help her up before they both headed into the services cafe, remarkably dry considering the trek to the building, and the current weather.
One could almost call it a miracle, if you believed in such things.