Mar 26, 2011 00:16
[Aziraphale is in a park, standing at the shore of a pond. A pond full of dark red liquid, and some suddenly enthusiastically drinking ducks.
He looks a bit distressed.]
I really have no idea how this happened. Er. I suppose I ought to talk to the proper authorities, but I'm not sure I could explain...
aziraphale | ou,
[ seattle ]
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[He does a double-take.] Oh. You again. I don't suppose you'd care to explain-
[He blinks.]
Though of course, how could you explain this? It's completely absurd. I only did this once, and that was in Venice-
...but what am I saying? I've never been to Venice.
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What did you call me?
[and his expression begins to shift, like the unsettling of of .3rd of an alp by some particularly fervent worshipper's desire not to have to visit their grandmother's house that winter]
I-
- we were there to settle a bet, you know, a friend and I. A friend- oh. It was Crowley, of course.
How silly of me to forget.
[He shakes his head.]
We were there for a bet about the canals and something Michael had let slip the last time he came dirtside, and it had been a very long decade, the... the 1530s, it must have been ( ... )
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It's, ah. It's wine. Very good claret, actually.
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I have no idea! But blasphemy does seem appropriate, since whatever I did, it turned water into wine.
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[He blinks.]
That is to say, I certainly can't imagine. Perhaps it's- it's a fluke of some kind, or a prank, or...
[trails off.]
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As best I can determine.
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