OOC; dream a dream
The angel stood close to the Eastern Gate, staring out and watching the storm clouds multiply and grow towards the east. He was very nervous. His hands felt empty without the flaming sword he'd been given to carry, and he wrung them desperately for a moment before resting one on the stone of the Gate's wall and keeping the other firmly at his side.
This was all very, very bad. It was Bad, even, and logically, no good would come of it. He wondered if this was ineffable, or if ineffability didn't apply yet. He'd heard a lot of talk about ineffability before coming to Eden.
It was that serpent's fault. Aziraphale frowned at the clouds drawing closer and tried not to think about it. This did not work; he wondered where the snake was and if he was satisfied with himself for causing this mess. A raindrop hit the angel on the head and he looked up as rain began to fall-- or at least, he thought it was called rain. It was rather new in the grand scheme of things, that rain business- sometimes he wasn't sure.
He sighed, raising his wings above his head and leaning on the wall where the stones were still warm and mostly dry. He considered: the snake had tempted those poor humans and been successful, which made him, the angel in charge of stopping that kind of thing from happening, probably at risk of being punished. Or at least, demoted. He frowned again and wondered if giving his sword away to the poor woman for warmth and protection would redeem him at all. That could probably be appealed, but his superiors weren't the most patient all of the time and would no doubt focus on "Gave Away The Sword Entrusted Unto Him" rather than "Helped Poor Humans Survive," which was bothersome and almost annoyingly1 bureaucratic.
The angel heard the sound of scales slithering up stone and felt the presence of the serpent beside him but didn't turn. He couldn't bring himself to be angry at the serpent, as was his nature, but- well, it had been kind of his fault. Kind of. The angel didn't want to admit that he himself had failed at stopping the temptation (and thus avoided admitting it quite expeditiously). He conceded to give the serpent a brief glance and a slight frown in greeting before looking away again. Only when he realized the serpent had spoken did he turn to look at him.
"I'm sorry," he said. "What was that?"
1Angels do not become annoyed with their superiors, hence, "almost."
This was all very, very bad. It was Bad, even, and logically, no good would come of it. He wondered if this was ineffable, or if ineffability didn't apply yet. He'd heard a lot of talk about ineffability before coming to Eden.
It was that serpent's fault. Aziraphale frowned at the clouds drawing closer and tried not to think about it. This did not work; he wondered where the snake was and if he was satisfied with himself for causing this mess. A raindrop hit the angel on the head and he looked up as rain began to fall-- or at least, he thought it was called rain. It was rather new in the grand scheme of things, that rain business- sometimes he wasn't sure.
He sighed, raising his wings above his head and leaning on the wall where the stones were still warm and mostly dry. He considered: the snake had tempted those poor humans and been successful, which made him, the angel in charge of stopping that kind of thing from happening, probably at risk of being punished. Or at least, demoted. He frowned again and wondered if giving his sword away to the poor woman for warmth and protection would redeem him at all. That could probably be appealed, but his superiors weren't the most patient all of the time and would no doubt focus on "Gave Away The Sword Entrusted Unto Him" rather than "Helped Poor Humans Survive," which was bothersome and almost annoyingly1 bureaucratic.
The angel heard the sound of scales slithering up stone and felt the presence of the serpent beside him but didn't turn. He couldn't bring himself to be angry at the serpent, as was his nature, but- well, it had been kind of his fault. Kind of. The angel didn't want to admit that he himself had failed at stopping the temptation (and thus avoided admitting it quite expeditiously). He conceded to give the serpent a brief glance and a slight frown in greeting before looking away again. Only when he realized the serpent had spoken did he turn to look at him.
"I'm sorry," he said. "What was that?"
1Angels do not become annoyed with their superiors, hence, "almost."