voice test

[heaven_on_paper]

further nife and accurate prophecies concerning the worlde that is to com

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[heaven_on_paper]

[ So what does Crowley do when he shows up at his flat and it isn't his flat anymore, but Shax's? ]

[hell_on_wheels]

[ he curses up a storm for one thing, besides managing to get his plants packed up in boxes to take out of his flat (and that took more convincing than he cares to admit, but he wanted to get them all). eventually, he speeds his way over to Soho only to stomp his way into the bookshop, shouting as soon as the door is closed behind him and startling the customer near the front. ]

Angel!

[heaven_on_paper]

[ He glances up from his desk. ]

I'm right here. There's no need to shout.

[ But once he's had a look at Crowley, he gets up at once, gesturing him towards the back of the shop. ]

What's the matter?

[hell_on_wheels]

[ one look will show that he's clearly agitated and angry, but on a different level than his normal grousing. he stalks back in the intended direction once Aziraphale gestures it. ]

I've been evicted.

[heaven_on_paper]

[ He shuts them into the back room where the customers can't hear them. Maybe it doesn't quite make sense that they can't, but they can't. ]

Evicted? From your flat?

[hell_on_wheels]

[ he practically prowls along the edges of the room, still seething and needing to move and vent. ]

Where else! Hell's gone and given it to someone else.

[heaven_on_paper]

[ Aziraphale stands still with his hands clasped in front of him, tracking Crowley's movement with his eyes. ]

But it's your flat!

[hell_on_wheels]

It belongs to Hell's representative, always has done. And since I'm on the outs ...

[ he gestures rather than finishing the sentence. ]

[heaven_on_paper]

Oh.

[ grimly ]

Oh, I see.

[hell_on_wheels]

[ he lets out a breath that's more growl than sigh, but he stops pacing at least. ]

Least I was able to get my plants out.

[heaven_on_paper]

Well, that's something. And you've still got the car.

[ It's not a question. ]

[hell_on_wheels]

Oh, I never put that on any of the paperwork.

[unfriendlygreen]

[ sometimes a sometime-shady-bookdealer who has been residing in london for the better part of a century, learns about another likely shady bookdealer and decides to see check them out, so to speak.

now this shady book dealer looks perfectly human to other humans, but to an angel he is a 6' tall green man with white hair and tiny white horns. ]

Morning.

[ he has what would pass as a perfectly posh london accent to anyone who didn't care to think too hard about it. ]

[heaven_on_paper]

[ Well, that's... peculiar. Also, excuse you, this is a perfectly legitimate bookshop. ]

Oh— good morning. Can I... help you?

[ He looks up from the book he's examining, but he doesn't put it down. ]

[unfriendlygreen]

Perhaps, I am looking for a specific—

[ He turns to look at the shady shopkeeper and freezes. ]

[unfriendlygreen]

I thought the last of you left after the last war.

[heaven_on_paper]

... I think perhaps you may be confused.

[ And I think I may be as well, he doesn't say. What exactly are you supposed to be? he also doesn't say. ]

[unfriendlygreen]

I am not confused. What are you, an exile?

[heaven_on_paper]

[ He draws himself up a bit, testily. ]

I am the owner of this establishment. And for that matter, what exactly are you supposed to be?

[unfriendlygreen]

Half demon.

[ he says it like it should be obvious, then very deliberately sticks his hands in his pockets. ]

I'm very allergic to your kind. Is there anything holy in here? I would much rather not combust.

[heaven_on_paper]

Half demon and half what?

[ He raises his eyebrows, simply ignoring the second question. ]

[unfriendlygreen]

Human. What else?

[heaven_on_paper]

I'm sure I wouldn't know. You're rather outside my realm of experience, I'm afraid.

[unfriendlygreen]

That's not surprising, your kind doesn't come here.

[heaven_on_paper]

I think you'll find that quite a lot of rare booksellers come to London.