they live inside us

[thememening]

FIGHTING YOUR INNER DEMONS

Everybody has them. Some are louder than others. Some are stronger. Some are overwhelming, and sooner or later you just give up fighting. But there are other people around you who want to help you - maybe they're suffering too, either because of your inner monster or their own. Or maybe they're one of the lucky ones with demons that don't howl so much.

You can help each other. It's better than the alternative.

• Leave top levels with your character name and info.
  
• Specify what you're running from, or if you're running at all, or if you just want to help.
  
• Details may be useful, but are certainly not necessary.
  
• Tag around for great drama and profit.

Warning: responses to this meme could potentially contain triggering material.

Comments

[angelic_phale]

"If you say so, dear boy."

It's hard to tell whether "Andrew" is flirting with him or not. His words and tone could be interpreted one way, but he's not trying to make any advances... He picks up a book and opens it to the marker, glancing down to read it.

"Though I'm not sure anything I have out front will interest you."

[10milliondollars]

"What's in the back? Is that where you keep all the tech? Or are you trying to lure me back there just to kill me?" As he says this, Rhys whips his stun baton out, wielding it threateningly. This guy looks easy enough to take down, and Rhys likes to think that he's...made some improvements in his fighting skills.

[angelic_phale]

Aziraphale looks up at that last sentence, looking insulted, his cheeks darkening.

"Excuse me. There's nothing in the back but old books and wine, put that away." He sounds like a scolding mother, but doesn't look particularly threatened at first; no, it's not until the last sentence that he even flinches back, setting the book on his desk.

[10milliondollars]

"I'll put it away when you swear to me this isn't some kind of bandit trap," Rhys grits out. It feels wrong to accuse this man of being a bandit, especially in true civilization like the Edens. Still, he can't be too careful. Not after the last time he misplaced his trust...

[angelic_phale]

"...bandit...trap," he says slowly. Alright. Clearly the man is on edge. Something happened...something deeper than Aziraphale thought. He doesn't need to be able to at this point, but he can feel the fear and paranoia deep within the man.

Aziraphale sighs and raises his hands. "This is no trap. Look, I gave you my card because it seemed to me that you needed someone to talk to. You're carrying something heavy on your shoulders."

[10milliondollars]

Slowly, Rhys lowers the stun baton. His shoulders stay tense, but he does switch his weapon off. "And you could tell that...just from bumping into me on the street?" It sounds plausible. Maybe Rhys had had an odd look on his face or something.

"Go on. Lead the way. But this," he says, waving the baton's handle, "stays out. You try anything, and I'll fry you."

[angelic_phale]

"I'm quite sensitive to such things," he says, lowering his hands to straighten his clothes. He leads him to the back room, where several tomes sit in cases, safe from the outside air and dust. The cases around these books and scrolls are the only technology in the room, preserving precious history. There's a small table here, too, and a kitchenette. There are shelves of books back here along one wall as well, including various holy works and Oscar Wilde first editions, some signed. Catty-corner to the shelves are a wine rack and a small cabinet with glasses inside.

Aziraphale lets him look for a moment before turning to face him...and noticing he's wearing snakeskin shoes. His blue eyes stay there, brow furrowing. "...satisfied?" he asks, looking suspiciously back at Rhys's face. Surely this isn't Crowley playing a joke on him? When had he gotten time to get a new body? Why'd he need one...

[10milliondollars]

Rhys takes his time looking around the room, even activating his EchoEye to scan over the books and scrolls. The scans don't reveal much, other than basic subject matter and author information. Next, he turns his eye on the wine rack. It doesn't detect anything amiss, so he shuts the eye off.

"All right, yeah," he says, tucking the baton back into its holster. Andrew isn't lying. He can afford to let his guard down this much. "So you invited a stranger to your bookshop because he looked...disturbed? What's in this for you? Are you a licensed therapist? Am I gonna get billed if I spill my guts to you?"

[angelic_phale]

"Actually, you reminded me a little of a friend of mine," he says, chuckling and grabbing a pair of stemmed glasses. "And if you are anything like him, you're picky about your reds, so why don't you come select what you like?"

The wine selection ranges from a cheap, bubbly chardonnay to an aged, well-kept Romanee Conti. That one is off-limits until Crowley actually arrives or the end of the world tries to come about again, of course, but Rhys is welcome to try. Aziraphale seems to favor the white wines, but there's a fair selection of reds, and even a bottle or two of sake next to the shelf, and some newfangled stuff they'd made from some fruit he couldn't recall but hadn't liked much.

[10milliondollars]

"Well," Rhys says, glancing closer at the wine selection, "I...actually go for cocktails, or a nice Scotch if I'm trying to impress someone. But this selection is decent." He picks up a bottle, reading over the label, then putting it back down. Rhys doesn't know a lot about wines, but he figures if he leans toward pricier-looking bottles, he'll look like he knows what he's doing.

After some time perusing the selection, Rhys chooses a rose. "This looks good to me."

[angelic_phale]

"Very well," he says, taking the rose and heading back over to the little table. It's been a while since he last had a drinking partner, really. How long is Crowley going to sleep this time...

He pours them each a glass, swirling his wine around idly as he sits. He gives it a sniff. "Mmh...well, it's one of the newer ones, but I suppose that's more to your taste. I never really went for cocktails, myself, but the friend you remind me of seems like the sort who'd like them." It sounds vague as all hell, but he doesn't really want to tell him about Crowley. Still, it might relax Rhys some...

[10milliondollars]

Rhys takes his own glass, sniffing it before taking a sip. It's good, sweet on his tongue...

"You keep mentioning this friend...Does he live here, too? Or did you come alone?" Maybe he can get Andrew on a subject that isn't about Rhys.

[angelic_phale]

"Oh, no, he tends to stay away from the Edens. Old memories, you know. But he visits once in a while..." Aziraphale had been meaning to speak with him about this, of course, but, well...hadn't really had the chance to. Or had, but had chose not to bring it up. Either way.

[10milliondollars]

"Yeah, old memories are why I came to the Edens...I guess." Rhys doesn't realize he's let that slip until it's too late. "Just, y'know, missed home." He chuckles weakly.

[angelic_phale]

"I was fond of Eden when I first lived there, of course," Aziraphale says, taking a long sip of wine. Things were...so much simpler... He sighs. "But, you know. As you grow, things from your younger days often lose their shine."

A pregnant pause in which more wine is sipped, and then he sets the glass down. "I don't know exactly what it is about you that reminds me of him. The shoes, perhaps. Or the way you carry yourself..."

[10milliondollars]

"Your friend wears skagskin? He must know a thing or two about fashion~" Rhys sips at his wine, glancing down to admire his own boots. "This place never did lose its appeal to me. I only left because the company I wanted to work for was out near Pandora."

[angelic_phale]

"Snake skin, actually. He fancies himself quite the fashionable man." Or, at least the human he pretends to be considers himself a fashionable man. Crowley had just gone on along for the ride.

"Aah; quite the trade-off, I understand. I've heard Pandora is quite ruthless."

[10milliondollars]

At the mention of Pandora's ruthless nature, Rhys's smile drops. "Yeah, it's...It's a shit planet...A lot of bad things happen to good people there."

[angelic_phale]

"...I see." He takes up his full glass of wine, and has another sip. "So, then. Why did you choose to work there?"

[10milliondollars]

"My hero worked out there. I wanted to be just like him," Rhys explains, looking away. He's drunk enough wine by now to be able to talk about it. "Guess it's true you shouldn't meet your heroes..."

[angelic_phale]

"Oh, absolutely," he says, agreeing whole-heartedly. "Or at least, not anyone you idolize. Or think should be more competent than they are. Or, really, anyone in a higher position than you are; it's just a mistake to think they'll handle things at all like you'd hoped."

[10milliondollars]

Rhys bites his lip at that. Should he say more?

No...Not yet, at least. Not until he finds out what this Andrew guy knows about the subject matter. "You ever meet someone you look up to, only to be disappointed? Or...feel betrayed?"

[angelic_phale]

"...yes," Aziraphale says softly, his tone dropping. "There was a time when that happened, and...well, it seemed as though all the Heavens were against me. Because of that moment, I thought that the world was going to end..."

He's speaking quite literally, despite the cliche-sounding phrases.

[10milliondollars]

"Sucks, doesn't it?" he asks quietly. Rhys has been there. He's had his entire world crumble around himself. After finishing off his glass of wine and refilling it, he speaks again. "I didn't even meet the real man. He was already dead. But...I guess you could say I met his ghost? It talked and acted just like him..."

Rhys waves a hand, dismissing himself. "You were saying, though?"

[angelic_phale]

"Oh. Well..." He doesn't really have anything much else to say about it. Except... "...I mean, it all seemed to turn out well in the end. The world did not, in fact, end. I didn't really keep in contact with...that person again. I felt free to live my own life."