tramitem_log | 2020 June Summer Solstice Plot

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2020 June Summer Solstice Plot - Catch All!

Who: Anyone and everyone in Trames - Please use this as a catach all for all your Summer Solstice Plot fun!
What: Exploring a whole knew world
When: Anytime between June 20 - July 4
Where: Around Krajina Božstiev
Rating/Warnings: Please add warnings to your top-levels/threads as needed

The streets of Krajina Božstiev are dusty and crowded. So many people on their way to live their lives. Markets, taverns, the Temple, the Palace. What do you look at first? What do you buy? Where to do you find yourself exploring?

Take a moment to appreciate the shine of the Temple. The beauty of the Palace gardens. The quiet serenity of the Library. The simplistic, but filling food in the taverns. Or the peaceful quaintness of the hills. A new world has opened up and somehow it all just seems simpler over here. People seem happy (mostly) in this existence.

Maybe...

Watch out for the occasional person going into a rage on the other side of the street or tavern. That can't mean anything...

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"I did. When did you get it?" He was about to touch the marking, just the softest of caresses with his fingertips, when the vendor returned. Aziraphale dropped his hand guiltily.

He let Anthony place the request, then happily accepted the little basket of tarts, a pleased, grateful smile shining up at Anthony as he cradled it in his arms. Aziraphale was being spoiled and indulged and he could very much get used to this, strolling through a new world together, sampling the wares, Anthony by his side.

"Thank you." And as they stepped back from the booth, he cautiously linked his arm around Anthony's and was pleased to discover no one paid them any mind. One could never be sure how relationships would be received. "You really didn't have to. I'll buy you another lighter when we get home."

This offer was a kind one and brought a certain quickened patter to his heart, just as those fingers reaching up for his cheek had... oh, if they had only landed! But, he should confess shouldn't he? It seemed wrong some how to have Aziraphale spend money to replace something that he would so rarely use.

"It wasn't mine really. Lost and found at the Gardens. It had been there for months and when this happened," He tilted his head so that the strangely familiar marking was more visible to the tender man on his arm, "last Tuesday evening there were side effects I had to play with. If I hadn't just given the lighter away I could show you. I can't burn, Angel. I can stick my hand right in the middle of a flame and there's nothing."

Side effects. Was it just fire immunity or was there more?

"You mean to tell me that both you AND Alec spent this month putting your hands in fire?" He pressed his lips together and looked off into the middle distance ahead of them. Idiots, the both of them. He lowered his voice and leaned in. "You haven't touched any holy water, though, have you? That's not-- Anthony, I don't want to find out how accurate that memory really is."

Guilty as charged. Maybe they really were twins, separated by some divine joke just at the moment of their conception. They certainly thought along similar lines.

"I haven't even been in a Church in months!"

Anthony protested that as he couldn't really put up a fuss about being silly with the fire. He had been caught at that one.

"Can't really... It's uncomfortable, like when your leg is half asleep."

"Being in a church makes you go...numb??"

He glanced around, then tugged Anthony down an alley. "When were you going to tell me?? What else haven't you told me?"

He objected to being dragged down the darkened alley with lead feet but found himself there with a earful of angry boyfriend anyway.

"Not numb, that feeling you get when everything starts waking up again, pins and needles. It's uncomfortable but its not a big deal." Only it was and he was trying to down play it, "We knew it was going to happen sooner or later... just like everything else. My fall was inevitable."

Was it actually inevitable? They were just doomed to become exactly what those visions suggested they were, or were they giving in too easily? Anthony had more memories than either Aziraphale or Alec...and Alec had the least, unless he was keeping them all to himself. Did doubting somehow keep it at bay? Was Anthony inviting this all in by accepting it, and why would he just accept that he was a demon as an unchangeable fact?

It was a big deal to Aziraphale, anyway, but they could deal with that later. "Did you see it? Your fall from Heaven?"

Damn he was clever! From those few things he had said Aziraphale had managed to put all the pieces together. If only they had been speaking of anything else he could have congratulated the intelligent thing instead of gaping at him wordlessly for several minutes.

"You've no idea what that is like. Being told, by God, that you aren't good enough... Then sent on a freefall into a vat of sulfur..."

He wasn't so clever. He couldn't imagine that freefall or that feeling of being cast out; it was nothing like what Aziraphale had experienced--that had been normal, mortal. Perhaps his grandfather had thought him something vile, demonized him when he left, but he could not unmake what Aziraphale was. Not like God.

"Oh, Anthony... You are. You are very much good enough."

He couldn't understand, but he could be mad on Anthony's behalf.

"Well. He didn't deserve you to begin with. If God doesn't want you--that is His loss. Seems to me God thinks a great many of us are unworthy of his love or salvation. I, for one, have never held His opinion in very high regard."

Unsure, he looked down at the bow on the basket and twisted the handle between his fingers.

"I am sorry...that you had to experience that."

He looked skyward, snarling just under his breath at the praise he clearly didn't deserve, as he paced around Aziraphale to his other side. If some one wasn't good enough for God, the being of eternal light and love, then they must really be terrible. There was no coming back from that!

"Her opinion. It's God though, She could appear as anything... man, women, burning bush, point is... I'm not good. You don't get kicked out of Heaven for being good, its for being terrible!"

Anthony drew near, to boldly cup his palm against the partially scarf covered skin of Aziraphale's neck. They were in an alley anyway, where no one could see him press himself close enough to rest his chin on his love's shoulder or to hear him whisper his devious plans into that elegant ear.

"And if I'm going to Hell anyway I might as well enjoy it. I'm going to get into all the trouble I want, Angel."

Her?

It seemed to Aziraphale that Anthony had, if the memories were to be believed, already been to Hell, but that was an issue of semantics. Did Anthony even know what act had him cast out? He couldn't imagine his Anthony doing anything to get thrown from Heaven. Even their relationship's beginning, while unorthodox, was handled about as kindly as it could be. Anthony was a good man, human in his faults, but certainly not evil. Though it didn't seem to take much to gain the ire of Old Testament God.

Or was there something in their 'memories' that would change Anthony into whatever the Devil he had been (or supposedly was)?

Still, despite any misgivings, the very devious plans--less for their explicit deviousness and more for their delivery and implication--were met with a shiver of anticipation. Demonic wiles or not, Anthony was incredibly tempting and his breath ghosted over Aziraphale's ear.

"All by yourself?"

"It'd be lonely wouldn't it? Being evil all by one's self."

His long fingers traced a line from Aziraphale's neck to his cheek, stroking the soft peach fuzzy skin.

"Maybe I could bring a friend? Tempt you into getting into a few scrapes? It would be more fun."

"Suppose it would be. Incredibly lonely."

He tipped his chin up, eyes fluttering at the touch.

"But, I don't know..."

Those come hither eyes were betrayed by those uncertain words. Or so Anthony thought as his mind turned towards a slightly more serious path.

"You've a point. From everything I've read it is supposed to be a very dangerous thing to allow a demon to become attached to you. Especially if you don't know their real name."

His voice dropped teasingly low again as he toyed now with Aziraphale's jaw, trying to encourage his delinquency with those wandering fingers.

"I could tell you what it was. It's probably a good idea, just in case... you need to stop me. I don't think I liked it much so don't go spreading it around. I didn't even tell Alec. If anything goes pear-shaped I want you to be the one to... whatever one does with demons, banish them, seal them in a jar."

The rest was whispered so much softer than anything else he had said thus far as he wanted only Aziraphale to know.

"It was Crawley."

And as things were soft and comfortable here in the alley he leaned in to steal a kiss.

He didn't know what he thought of wielding this much power over Anthony. Names, or so books would lead one to believe, were powerful in magic, and it stood to reason that a demon was like some eldritch Rumpelstiltskin who might be summoned or contained with the power of his name. If Anthony was turning into a demon, if it was changing him... someone did need to know how to stop him (or save him...).

But why him? He had once told Alec that being near Anthony swept him up in the moment, and though that had been in a different context at the time, could he do it...could he stop his demon if necessity demanded it?

Or was he entirely too tempted?

Aziraphale swallowed. Everything was warm and soft, intimate. Anthony's voice was silk against his skin.

"Crawley." The name was barely a breath from his lips, a secret between them. The basket of tarts slipped from his hand, wobbled, and managed to not spill as he was caught in Anthony's kiss.

In a way it was like exchanging rings. I trust you with information that could potentially be used against me because I know you wouldn't use it unless there was no other way. I promise to love and protect you, even from yourself. It could have been the opening scene of one of those terribly tragic romances.

Anthony didn't think much beyond the moment however. How could he when this absolutely remarkable human was sighing his name in such an extraordinarily expressive way? With one hand cupping a cheek and the other snaking its way down Aziraphale's arm to lace their fingers together over the handle of the basket so the tart present wasn't lost before it could be enjoyed, their lips came together once more. Just one more little temptation before they needed to realize they were still in an alley.

"There is something else I haven't told you yet. It's more to do with the Bureau and spies than anything about demons..."

He wasn't sure if that made it better or not.

It was incredibly trusting. Romantic. Terrifyingly fast. The thing was, Aziraphale had nothing to offer in return. He had notes, of course, gathered and chronicled from the Network, but those seemed meaningless in light of everything that was happening now with the portals. Even the promise that Anthony had never, and would never, be a part of those notes (out of loyalty and protectiveness) seemed a bland offering when compared to the true name of a demon.

How could he be worthy of such a gesture? What had they done in the past to grant such a deep-rooted trust?

"...Spies?" His mind processed that bit of information slower than normal, fogged as it was by the romantic and seductive haze of the last few moments. He looked down the alley and back out to the street, then frowned up at Anthony, the temptation melting away as his fussiness took hold. "What kind of trouble have you gotten into?"

He had more than notes to offer. Much more. Friendly companionship and an ear willing to listen were absolutely priceless commodities. Even if Aziraphale did glance away and accuse him of being trouble. There was something utterly charming and familiar in that!

"I'm not the one who took up the job with the Bureau! That kid Elliott did. That's what I wanted to warn you about. Who knows what he might accidentally end up telling them about us..."

He looked to the frown but gave the fingers he was still holding a squeeze.

"The Bureau has a medical department. Did you know that?"

"Elliott?" Aziraphale's frown took on a look of confusion, as if trying to reconcile the young man who came to him with an emailed question to the Bureau with the young man apparently willing to take a job with them. "But he's so ...nice. Surely he wouldn't get mixed up with the likes of them."

Anthony's hand anchored him as a chill ran up his spine. A medical department.

"No." His eyes went wide as his mind shuffled through all the various implications of the Bureau having a medical department--from the innocuous 'it could just be first aid' to the altruistic 'they have access to other worlds, perhaps they are using it for good research' to the outright sinister. Sinister won out and his next most pressing thought was don't tell Alec. "Did he mention what they might be doing? There, in the medical ward?"

"He has. Thinks he is going to single handedly bridge the gap between the Different and the Bureau."

It was an instinctive action, one he didn't even realize he had, just to lean closer and hold Aziraphale's hand a little tighter as if he could protect him from the implications of the medical department just from being in close proximity. It was nice to have an ally in this. When he had brought up these fears to Elliott, worried over why the Bureau even needed a medical department, he had been met with the blank eyed stare of an innocent youth who hadn't thought any of this through. That wasn't true of Fell. Anthony could tell from the man's eyes that his mind had taken the very same path his had.

"Typical medical ward things, rolling bandages and so on. If they were doing anything creepy there its not like they would put that on display for the kid."

"How noble. Misguided, but noble."

Sometimes in the past he had thought Anthony had gone too far in his belief and commitment to the alternate identity of being a demon, but at present, Aziraphale was starting to understand that. And even if he didn't fully understand, they seemed to understand each other on other levels. They were allies. Talking in secret, working together had been his first memory of Anthony and it seemed that was an existence they were bound to mirror. (Oh, but he dearly hoped they didn't reach a point where they considered young Elliott's murder at all)

"No, but it's possible there's the suggestion of it out in the open. Restricted access. Shipments of questionable supplies. Something, surely. They have to slip up somewhere. They're only human."

He touched Anthony's cheek, fingertips brushing over the tattoo.

"Probably."

"Dangerous too. You know what they say about good intentions? That's why I couldn't have him working at the gardens, sniffing around you and Alec."

He had to look after you. A feeling that grew all the stronger as his cheek was so kindly touched sending his heart into a flutter and his breath catching in his throat.

"Aziraphale..."

His heart fluttered with Anthony's protectiveness. But it wasn't Alec or Aziraphale with the weakness to holy items or immunity to fire.

"We'll keep each other safe." He wanted to keep all the Different safe, of course, but Aziraphale knew where his loyalties truly were. He'd do anything, anything at all if it meant protecting his Crowleys.

He leaned up and pressed a kiss to Anthony's cheek, right over the mark.

"But just in case of any sniffing around," he added with a little cheeky smile. "I'll be sure to wear my best cologne."

He stifled the natural urge to grin like a goofy bastard from the kiss. If he had ever had a passing thought about feeling self conscious about that strange marking it evaporated entirely with that showing of support!

"You wear your best cologne and I might come sniffing 'round instead."

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2020 June Summer Solstice Plot - Catch All!

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