*~Critique, Permissions, Powers, Etc.~*
So, curious about Aziraphale? Never read Good Omens, and are wondering what all the fuss is about? Comments? Critique? Perhaps all that can be answered and dealt with here.
*NOTE*: I am not English, I am American. If you are English and want to advise me on what I'm doing wrong, PLEASE DO NOT HESITATE. I will do my best, but I cannot guarantee 100% accuracy.
Wikipedia entry for the novel, for background info and such.
Aziraphale's entry in the Good Omens Lexicon.
Aziraphale and Crowley's 2006 New Years' resolutions.
Aziraphale is an angel. Not the best angel, but he's an angel. He also loves books. The older and mustier, the better. He has a tendency to salivate particularly over those pertaining to prophecy.
"Aziraphale collected books. If he were totally honest with himself he would have to have admitted that his bookshop was simply somewhere to store them. He was not unusual in this. In order to maintain his cover as a typical second-hand book seller, he used every means short of actual physical violence to prevent customers from making a purchase. Unpleasant damp smells, glowering looks, erratic opening hours-he was incredibly good at it.
He had been collecting for a long time, and, like all collectors, he specialized.
He had more than sixty books of predictions concerning developments in the last handful of centuries of the second millennium. He had a penchant for Wilde first editions. And he had a complete set of the Infamous Bibles, individually named from error's in typesetting."
Being sent from Above gives him certain powers that you should be aware of. These are taken directly from the book, so if you put Mr. Fell into a tight situation, expect some things to change.
"Technically Aziraphale was a Principality, but people made jokes about that these days."
"As they drove past an astonished traffic warden his notebook spontaneously combusted, to Crowley's amazement.
'I'm pretty certain I didn't mean to do that,' he said.
Aziraphale blushed.
'That was me,' he said. 'I had always thought that your people invented them."'
'Did you? We thought they were yours.' "
"Most bookshops in Soho have back rooms, and most of the back rooms are filled with rare, or at least very expensive, books. But Aziraphale's books didn't have illustrations. They had old brown covers and crackling pages. Occasionally, if he had no alternative, he'd sell one.
And, occasionally, serious men in dark suits would come calling and suggest, very politely, that perhaps he'd like to sell the shop itself so that it could be turned into the kind of retail outlet more suited to the area. Sometimes they'd offer cash, in large rolls of grubby fifty-pound notes. Or, sometimes, while they were talking, other men in dark glasses would wander around the shop shaking their heads and saying how inflammable paper was, and what a fire trap he had here.
And Aziraphale would nod and smile and say that he'd think about it. And then they'd go away. And they'd never come back
Just because you're an angel doesn't mean you have to be a fool."
"The boy squeaked, and pulled the trigger of the gun. It was a Magnum .32, CIA issue, gray, mean, heavy, capable of blowing a man away at thirty paces, and leaving nothing more than a red mist, a ghastly mess, and a certain amount of paperwork.
Aziraphale blinked.
A thin stream of water squirted from the nozzle and soaked Crowley, who had been looking out the window, trying to see if there was a huge black dog in the garden.
Aziraphale looked embarrassed.
Then a cream cake hit him in the face.
It was almost five past three.
With a gesture, Aziraphale turned the rest of the guns into water pistols as well, and walked out."
" 'Let there be light,' said Aziraphale. A pale blue glow filled the lane.
From the ditch beside them someone said, 'How the hell did you do that?'
The light vanished.
'Do what?' said Aziraphale guiltily."
"'Up you get, young lady,' said the angel, hauling Anathema out of the bracken. 'No bones broken.'
It was a statement, not a hope; there had been a minor fracture, but Aziraphale couldn't resist an opportunity to do good. "
"There was the sound of running feet downstairs.
'Stop them,' said Crowley. 'We need more time!'
'Any more miracles and we'll really start getting noticed by Up There,' said Aziraphale. 'If you really want Gabriel or someone wondering why forty policemen have gone to sleep-'
'Okay,' said Crowley. 'That's it. That's it. It was worth a try. Let's get out of here.'
'In thirty seconds you will wake up,' said Aziraphale, to the entranced ex-nun. 'And you will have had a lovely dream about whatever you like best, and-'
'Yes, yes, fine,' sighed Crowley. 'Now can we go?' "
"Johnny scratched, thoughtfully. 'I take it you're one of me ancestors, then, mate?'
'Oh. Indubitably, dear boy. Quite indubitably. In a manner of speaking. Now, to get back to my original question. Where am I?'
'Only if you're one of my ancestors," continued Johnny Two Bones, 'why are you talking like a poofter?'
'Ah. Australia, ' said Johnny Two Bones' mouth, pronouncing the word as though it would have to be properly disinfected before he said it again. 'Oh dear. Well, thank you anyway.' "
"In every big-budget science fiction movie there's the moment when a spaceship as large as New York suddenly goes to light speed. A twanging noise like a wooden ruler being plucked over the edge of a desk, a dazzling refraction of light, and suddenly the stars have all been stretched out thin and it's gone. This was exactly like that, except that instead of a gleaming twelve-mile-long spaceship, it was an off-white twenty-year-old motor scooter. And you didn't have the special rainbow effects. And it probably wasn't going at more than two hundred miles an hour. And instead of a pulsing whine sliding up the octaves, it just went putputputputput . . .
VROOOOSH."
"'Not much more,' said Aziraphale, who had never done other to get rid of demons than to hint to them very strongly that he, Aziraphale, had some work to be getting on with, and wasn't it getting late? And Crowley had always got the hint."
" 'This has gone on too long,' said Aziraphale. 'Sort it out, Crowley, there's a dear chap.'
'Hmm?" said Crowley.
'I'm the nice one, ' said Aziraphale. 'You can't expect me to-oh, blast it. You try to do the decent thing, and where does it get you?' He snapped his fingers.
There was a pop like an old-fashioned flashbulb, and Sgt. Thomas A. Deisenburger disappeared.
'Er,' said Aziraphale.
'See?' said Shadwell, who hadn't quite got the hang of Madame Tracy's split personality, 'nothing to it. Ye stick by me, yell be all right.'
'Well done,' said Crowley. 'Never thought you had it in you.
'No,' said Aziraphale. 'Nor did I, in fact. I do hope I haven't sent him somewhere dreadful.'
'You'd better get used to it right now," said Crowley. 'You just send 'em. Best not to worry about where they go.' He looked fascinated. 'Aren't you going to introduce me to your new body?' "
"In the jeep, Crowley was cursing. Aziraphale laid a hand on his shoulder.
'There are humans here,' he said.
'Yes,' said Crowley. 'And me.'
'I mean we shouldn't let this happen to them.'
'Well, what-' Crowley began, and stopped.
'I mean, when you think about it, we've got them into enough trouble as it is. You and me. Over the years. What with one thing and another.'
'We were only doing our jobs,' muttered Crowley.
'Yes. So what? Lots of people in history have only done their jobs and look at the trouble they caused.'
'You don't mean we should actually try to stop Him?'
'What have you got to lose?'
... Aziraphale picked up the sword lately dropped by War, and hefted its weight thoughtfully.
'Gosh, it's been years since I used this,' he murmured.
'About six thousand,' said Crowley.
'My word, yes,' said the angel. 'What a day that was, and no mistake. Good old days.'
'Not really,' said Crowley. The noise was growing.
'People knew the difference between right and wrong in those days,' said Aziraphale dreamily.
'Well, yes. Think about it.'
'Ah. Yes. Too much messin' about?'
'Yes. '
Aziraphale held up the sword. There was a whoomph as it suddenly flamed like a bar of magnesium.
'Once you've learned how to do it, you never forget,' he said.
He smiled at Crowley.
'I'd just like to say,' he said, 'if we don't get out of this, that . . . I'll have known, deep down inside, that there was a spark of goodness in you.'
'That's right,' said Crowley bitterly. 'Make my day.'
Aziraphale held out his hand.
'Nice knowing you,' he said.
Crowley took it.
'Here's to the next time,' he said. 'And . . . Aziraphale?'
'Yes.'
'Just remember I'll have known that, deep down inside, you were just enough of a bastard to be worth liking.'
... The coats of Aziraphale and Crowley split along the seams. If you were going to go, you might as
well go in your own true shape. Feathers unfolded towards the sky.
Contrary to popular belief, the wings of demons are the same as the wings of angels, although they're often better groomed. "
So after reading this, you've decided that you want your characters to interact with an angel who has been around since the beginning of time! Or you've got an itch to tell me how good/poor I'm doing! Drop a line down in the comments below or send me an im at evilpreztohma on AIM.
*NOTE*: I am not English, I am American. If you are English and want to advise me on what I'm doing wrong, PLEASE DO NOT HESITATE. I will do my best, but I cannot guarantee 100% accuracy.
Wikipedia entry for the novel, for background info and such.
Aziraphale's entry in the Good Omens Lexicon.
Aziraphale and Crowley's 2006 New Years' resolutions.
Aziraphale is an angel. Not the best angel, but he's an angel. He also loves books. The older and mustier, the better. He has a tendency to salivate particularly over those pertaining to prophecy.
"Aziraphale collected books. If he were totally honest with himself he would have to have admitted that his bookshop was simply somewhere to store them. He was not unusual in this. In order to maintain his cover as a typical second-hand book seller, he used every means short of actual physical violence to prevent customers from making a purchase. Unpleasant damp smells, glowering looks, erratic opening hours-he was incredibly good at it.
He had been collecting for a long time, and, like all collectors, he specialized.
He had more than sixty books of predictions concerning developments in the last handful of centuries of the second millennium. He had a penchant for Wilde first editions. And he had a complete set of the Infamous Bibles, individually named from error's in typesetting."
Being sent from Above gives him certain powers that you should be aware of. These are taken directly from the book, so if you put Mr. Fell into a tight situation, expect some things to change.
"Technically Aziraphale was a Principality, but people made jokes about that these days."
"As they drove past an astonished traffic warden his notebook spontaneously combusted, to Crowley's amazement.
'I'm pretty certain I didn't mean to do that,' he said.
Aziraphale blushed.
'That was me,' he said. 'I had always thought that your people invented them."'
'Did you? We thought they were yours.' "
"Most bookshops in Soho have back rooms, and most of the back rooms are filled with rare, or at least very expensive, books. But Aziraphale's books didn't have illustrations. They had old brown covers and crackling pages. Occasionally, if he had no alternative, he'd sell one.
And, occasionally, serious men in dark suits would come calling and suggest, very politely, that perhaps he'd like to sell the shop itself so that it could be turned into the kind of retail outlet more suited to the area. Sometimes they'd offer cash, in large rolls of grubby fifty-pound notes. Or, sometimes, while they were talking, other men in dark glasses would wander around the shop shaking their heads and saying how inflammable paper was, and what a fire trap he had here.
And Aziraphale would nod and smile and say that he'd think about it. And then they'd go away. And they'd never come back
Just because you're an angel doesn't mean you have to be a fool."
"The boy squeaked, and pulled the trigger of the gun. It was a Magnum .32, CIA issue, gray, mean, heavy, capable of blowing a man away at thirty paces, and leaving nothing more than a red mist, a ghastly mess, and a certain amount of paperwork.
Aziraphale blinked.
A thin stream of water squirted from the nozzle and soaked Crowley, who had been looking out the window, trying to see if there was a huge black dog in the garden.
Aziraphale looked embarrassed.
Then a cream cake hit him in the face.
It was almost five past three.
With a gesture, Aziraphale turned the rest of the guns into water pistols as well, and walked out."
" 'Let there be light,' said Aziraphale. A pale blue glow filled the lane.
From the ditch beside them someone said, 'How the hell did you do that?'
The light vanished.
'Do what?' said Aziraphale guiltily."
"'Up you get, young lady,' said the angel, hauling Anathema out of the bracken. 'No bones broken.'
It was a statement, not a hope; there had been a minor fracture, but Aziraphale couldn't resist an opportunity to do good. "
"There was the sound of running feet downstairs.
'Stop them,' said Crowley. 'We need more time!'
'Any more miracles and we'll really start getting noticed by Up There,' said Aziraphale. 'If you really want Gabriel or someone wondering why forty policemen have gone to sleep-'
'Okay,' said Crowley. 'That's it. That's it. It was worth a try. Let's get out of here.'
'In thirty seconds you will wake up,' said Aziraphale, to the entranced ex-nun. 'And you will have had a lovely dream about whatever you like best, and-'
'Yes, yes, fine,' sighed Crowley. 'Now can we go?' "
"Johnny scratched, thoughtfully. 'I take it you're one of me ancestors, then, mate?'
'Oh. Indubitably, dear boy. Quite indubitably. In a manner of speaking. Now, to get back to my original question. Where am I?'
'Only if you're one of my ancestors," continued Johnny Two Bones, 'why are you talking like a poofter?'
'Ah. Australia, ' said Johnny Two Bones' mouth, pronouncing the word as though it would have to be properly disinfected before he said it again. 'Oh dear. Well, thank you anyway.' "
"In every big-budget science fiction movie there's the moment when a spaceship as large as New York suddenly goes to light speed. A twanging noise like a wooden ruler being plucked over the edge of a desk, a dazzling refraction of light, and suddenly the stars have all been stretched out thin and it's gone. This was exactly like that, except that instead of a gleaming twelve-mile-long spaceship, it was an off-white twenty-year-old motor scooter. And you didn't have the special rainbow effects. And it probably wasn't going at more than two hundred miles an hour. And instead of a pulsing whine sliding up the octaves, it just went putputputputput . . .
VROOOOSH."
"'Not much more,' said Aziraphale, who had never done other to get rid of demons than to hint to them very strongly that he, Aziraphale, had some work to be getting on with, and wasn't it getting late? And Crowley had always got the hint."
" 'This has gone on too long,' said Aziraphale. 'Sort it out, Crowley, there's a dear chap.'
'Hmm?" said Crowley.
'I'm the nice one, ' said Aziraphale. 'You can't expect me to-oh, blast it. You try to do the decent thing, and where does it get you?' He snapped his fingers.
There was a pop like an old-fashioned flashbulb, and Sgt. Thomas A. Deisenburger disappeared.
'Er,' said Aziraphale.
'See?' said Shadwell, who hadn't quite got the hang of Madame Tracy's split personality, 'nothing to it. Ye stick by me, yell be all right.'
'Well done,' said Crowley. 'Never thought you had it in you.
'No,' said Aziraphale. 'Nor did I, in fact. I do hope I haven't sent him somewhere dreadful.'
'You'd better get used to it right now," said Crowley. 'You just send 'em. Best not to worry about where they go.' He looked fascinated. 'Aren't you going to introduce me to your new body?' "
"In the jeep, Crowley was cursing. Aziraphale laid a hand on his shoulder.
'There are humans here,' he said.
'Yes,' said Crowley. 'And me.'
'I mean we shouldn't let this happen to them.'
'Well, what-' Crowley began, and stopped.
'I mean, when you think about it, we've got them into enough trouble as it is. You and me. Over the years. What with one thing and another.'
'We were only doing our jobs,' muttered Crowley.
'Yes. So what? Lots of people in history have only done their jobs and look at the trouble they caused.'
'You don't mean we should actually try to stop Him?'
'What have you got to lose?'
... Aziraphale picked up the sword lately dropped by War, and hefted its weight thoughtfully.
'Gosh, it's been years since I used this,' he murmured.
'About six thousand,' said Crowley.
'My word, yes,' said the angel. 'What a day that was, and no mistake. Good old days.'
'Not really,' said Crowley. The noise was growing.
'People knew the difference between right and wrong in those days,' said Aziraphale dreamily.
'Well, yes. Think about it.'
'Ah. Yes. Too much messin' about?'
'Yes. '
Aziraphale held up the sword. There was a whoomph as it suddenly flamed like a bar of magnesium.
'Once you've learned how to do it, you never forget,' he said.
He smiled at Crowley.
'I'd just like to say,' he said, 'if we don't get out of this, that . . . I'll have known, deep down inside, that there was a spark of goodness in you.'
'That's right,' said Crowley bitterly. 'Make my day.'
Aziraphale held out his hand.
'Nice knowing you,' he said.
Crowley took it.
'Here's to the next time,' he said. 'And . . . Aziraphale?'
'Yes.'
'Just remember I'll have known that, deep down inside, you were just enough of a bastard to be worth liking.'
... The coats of Aziraphale and Crowley split along the seams. If you were going to go, you might as
well go in your own true shape. Feathers unfolded towards the sky.
Contrary to popular belief, the wings of demons are the same as the wings of angels, although they're often better groomed. "
So after reading this, you've decided that you want your characters to interact with an angel who has been around since the beginning of time! Or you've got an itch to tell me how good/poor I'm doing! Drop a line down in the comments below or send me an im at evilpreztohma on AIM.