X-Mas Challenge: Day 4
Title: Simple Pleasures
Author: deceptivemirror
Rating: G
Genre: humor
Characters: Death, Gabriel
Word Count: 1034
Summary: His entire existence had never prepared Death for meeting someone who, for once, had something in common with him.
There were many sayings in this quaint little sphere that applied to him. “Heaven for the weather, Hell for the company” was among his favorites. It did seem like quite a few of the more interesting humans visited the realm of Lucifer than appeared strictly rational, but he had never been in the business of determining where a soul went, but simply that souls went when it was time.
Death found it easy to understand a soul's reluctance. From the delightful, deep-fried doughnuts found at Voodoo Doughnuts in Portland, to the masterpieces of art and flavor found at Nobu's in New York, the mortal realm was a cornucopia of tastes and experiences not found anywhere else. Temper that with the frisson of excitement a mortal could experience by eating a formerly poisonous plant or creature, and the culinary expert in Death could (metaphorically, of course) die happy.
Death, in his capacity as (in the current vernacular) foodie of the universe, often found solace and conversation in the company of the archangel Gabriel, who, living or dead, often accompanied him upon his taste adventures. When they were not sampling Chicago's finest pizza, India's best naan and tikka masala, or Lebanon's epitome of lentils and rice, they would often find an apartment, furnish it with an appropriately large television and gourmet popcorn (found in Seattle, naturally) and take in Food Network and Cooking Channel shows until even Death experienced the need for a stretch break.
Death could not say he always enjoyed Gabriel's decidedly unique sense of humor, but the angel was an utter delight to be around during shows such as Chopped or Iron Chef America. The unveiling of the four mandatory ingredients in the three rounds of Chopped was a particular source of amusement for the Horseman; on those days, he would covertly allow Gabriel more direct interaction with the realm and have him switch the ingredients in the baskets at his leisure.
The so-called “fan favorite” episodes were often enough to bring a smile to even Death's stoic face. Seeing four chefs, three judges and a host utterly horrified at the appearance of durian fruit, known for its pungent and disagreeable smell, had even caused a rare chuckle.
While Death could never truly feel “mellow,” as the young humans called it, having the amber-haired archangel around often made his customary expression less foreboding. His Reapers had started to relax around him, and several of them had become oddly friendly with Gabriel, who apparently bore them no ill will for taking his soul after he was killed. Far from becoming a restless spirit, Gabriel instead helped keep the souls Death had to personally reap sane, and often helped convince them to cross over.
Death was certain those ungrateful system-cheating brats, the Winchester brothers, had probably not noticed the decrease in spirits requiring their infamous salt-and-burns. Well. Those were mortals, after all; woefully blind to the goings-on behind the scenes. Death chose not to consider the recent influx of living angels and demons in the mortal realm as a possible reason of distraction.
Death could not ever say that he was happy to do what he did, but the presence of the irascible archangel somehow made the eons seem somewhat less bleak than they previously had been. Truly, Gabriel was as much a friend as Death had ever allowed himself to have. The fact that Gabriel shared his passion for food and food-related television was simply the icing on the cake.
The red-velvet, chocolate ganache-covered cake. Death, after all, had standards.
Author: deceptivemirror
Rating: G
Genre: humor
Characters: Death, Gabriel
Word Count: 1034
Summary: His entire existence had never prepared Death for meeting someone who, for once, had something in common with him.
There were many sayings in this quaint little sphere that applied to him. “Heaven for the weather, Hell for the company” was among his favorites. It did seem like quite a few of the more interesting humans visited the realm of Lucifer than appeared strictly rational, but he had never been in the business of determining where a soul went, but simply that souls went when it was time.
Death found it easy to understand a soul's reluctance. From the delightful, deep-fried doughnuts found at Voodoo Doughnuts in Portland, to the masterpieces of art and flavor found at Nobu's in New York, the mortal realm was a cornucopia of tastes and experiences not found anywhere else. Temper that with the frisson of excitement a mortal could experience by eating a formerly poisonous plant or creature, and the culinary expert in Death could (metaphorically, of course) die happy.
Death, in his capacity as (in the current vernacular) foodie of the universe, often found solace and conversation in the company of the archangel Gabriel, who, living or dead, often accompanied him upon his taste adventures. When they were not sampling Chicago's finest pizza, India's best naan and tikka masala, or Lebanon's epitome of lentils and rice, they would often find an apartment, furnish it with an appropriately large television and gourmet popcorn (found in Seattle, naturally) and take in Food Network and Cooking Channel shows until even Death experienced the need for a stretch break.
Death could not say he always enjoyed Gabriel's decidedly unique sense of humor, but the angel was an utter delight to be around during shows such as Chopped or Iron Chef America. The unveiling of the four mandatory ingredients in the three rounds of Chopped was a particular source of amusement for the Horseman; on those days, he would covertly allow Gabriel more direct interaction with the realm and have him switch the ingredients in the baskets at his leisure.
The so-called “fan favorite” episodes were often enough to bring a smile to even Death's stoic face. Seeing four chefs, three judges and a host utterly horrified at the appearance of durian fruit, known for its pungent and disagreeable smell, had even caused a rare chuckle.
While Death could never truly feel “mellow,” as the young humans called it, having the amber-haired archangel around often made his customary expression less foreboding. His Reapers had started to relax around him, and several of them had become oddly friendly with Gabriel, who apparently bore them no ill will for taking his soul after he was killed. Far from becoming a restless spirit, Gabriel instead helped keep the souls Death had to personally reap sane, and often helped convince them to cross over.
Death was certain those ungrateful system-cheating brats, the Winchester brothers, had probably not noticed the decrease in spirits requiring their infamous salt-and-burns. Well. Those were mortals, after all; woefully blind to the goings-on behind the scenes. Death chose not to consider the recent influx of living angels and demons in the mortal realm as a possible reason of distraction.
Death could not ever say that he was happy to do what he did, but the presence of the irascible archangel somehow made the eons seem somewhat less bleak than they previously had been. Truly, Gabriel was as much a friend as Death had ever allowed himself to have. The fact that Gabriel shared his passion for food and food-related television was simply the icing on the cake.
The red-velvet, chocolate ganache-covered cake. Death, after all, had standards.