Eleven (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bearshermark) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
diatu2019-09-09 04:42 pm
bearshermark) wrote in diatu2019-09-09 04:42 pm
[Adventure] A Question of Faith
Who: Eleven, Isabel, and Mr. Fell
Where: First District
When: September ssometime
What: When life gives you giant eyeballs
Warnings: n/a for now!
As had become their custom, Eleven met Isabel outside the temple after his duties were finished, and they made idle chatter as they walked back toward the Academy to turn in for the night.
It was a pleasant way to wind down the evening- or it should have been.
Nothing prepared him for an enormous eye to insert itself into the air beside him. Eleven started, then leaped back with a shout, pulling Isabel with him just as it began speaking.
"A Sundered who is faithful, is -- oh, crap, it's you."
Just as suddenly as it arrived, it vanished, leaving behind a wide, black portal suspended in the night air. Eleven's heart raced as he stared into the nothingness, half-expecting the great eye would return or else the portal itself would close up.
"What kind of thing," he said numbly, brain scrambling to catch up with reality. Belatedly, his grip on Isabel's wrist loosened. "Did you see..?"
Where: First District
When: September ssometime
What: When life gives you giant eyeballs
Warnings: n/a for now!
As had become their custom, Eleven met Isabel outside the temple after his duties were finished, and they made idle chatter as they walked back toward the Academy to turn in for the night.
It was a pleasant way to wind down the evening- or it should have been.
Nothing prepared him for an enormous eye to insert itself into the air beside him. Eleven started, then leaped back with a shout, pulling Isabel with him just as it began speaking.
"A Sundered who is faithful, is -- oh, crap, it's you."
Just as suddenly as it arrived, it vanished, leaving behind a wide, black portal suspended in the night air. Eleven's heart raced as he stared into the nothingness, half-expecting the great eye would return or else the portal itself would close up.
"What kind of thing," he said numbly, brain scrambling to catch up with reality. Belatedly, his grip on Isabel's wrist loosened. "Did you see..?"
no subject
"I can use it to project force in ways that I want it--that's actually its name, the Musical Force Projector. I usually use it defensively, but there's no reason I can't call a weapon from it."
Save that Isabel's preferred weapons are her fists and feet, normally.
no subject
"Oh, of course. Let me just--" kneeling, he awkwardly fumbled a marking onto the floor, indicating the way they came from and the direction they had headed from here. He hadn't expected anyone to notice (not that he had been especially subtle), so it somewhat embarrassed him to be caught making graffiti, even if it was essentially breadcrumbs for their return. "Though there's always the possibility that the floors may not be reliable either.[1] But better to have faith than not, I think."
It was dark around the edges of Eleven's light. Aziraphale took a deep breath he did not need and stepped protectively closer behind the children.
"I feel like we should make a game of it, if we're going to be here a while, don't you?" he attempted brightly to lighten the mood, putting on a cheery, tight smile in the hope of outshining the spooky darkness around them. Sneaking was not his strong suit--at least if his six millennia history was anything to go by. "The green bottle song? I think the American's have a variant that goes, what is it? 99 bottles of--no, wait, that wouldn't be appropriate."
[1] - Which would most assuredly not be fair, but your mother is a fraggin' aardvark. Not that Aziraphale would ever insinuate such.
no subject
"They might not be," he agreed. "But we can try to keep track of where we've been."
A touch more confident, he led them down the corridor- but not without a slightly mystified look to Isabel, wondering if she knew what Mr. Fell might be on about, because he certainly didn't.
no subject
She was pretty sure that El knew what beer was, too. Not that she'd ever seen him drink, but his society wasn't as high strung about drinking as the one on Earth, she knew. So why wouldn't he?
Isabel just shrugged and grinned at El. Hopefully her commentary cleared that up.
no subject
Actually, this bantering was more comforting anyway. He was more or less used to having someone to squabble over petty things with when he got nervous about other things. He smiled back at her wink.
"Surely Eleven, your culture must have repetitive, time-wasting travel songs, too. Humans have always tried to entertain themselves on long journeys with ridiculous songs, silly games, other diversions." He knelt to make another marking on the floor, thought briefly of Yon Yonson and Michael Finnegan and decided not to inflict that Hell upon the children, lest they abandon him in here out of annoyance (he would not fault them at all). "Nowadays we have radios, and vinyl records--and compact discs (though that doesn't always offer quite the diversity in artists that one might expect). And you, Isabel? What sort of music does your world offer?"
no subject
"So it's a travelling song?" he asked, deciding that the conversation was pleasantly distracting from the maze around them. He'd grown bolder in his steps, but beginning to lose track of where they might even be trying to go. He could likely Intimate an exit, but which would they be lead to? Maybe pray for knowledge of how many there were, the directions they were in, then divine guidance to them.
His mind churned over potential compositions to those prayers.
"Sylvando would usually play music. He'd sing sometimes-" A smile cracked his concentration a moment as fond memories tugged. "Tried to get us to dance and join in. Can't say that I memorized any of them, though."
no subject
As for Mr. Fell's question, Isabel laughed. "Well, my dad's from Earth, so I know a bit about Earth music. At least contemporary American rock." Or really a lot of rock in general. She was fond of it, and it wasn't as if her dad hadn't tried to give her a good cut section of music. Her mother had helped, too...
"Sounds like our worlds are pretty similar, even if they might not be the same Earth. Grandpa says there are multiverses, after all."
no subject
Isabel had a point about their noise level, but Aziraphale couldn't resist talking. Call it a nervous habit.
"Multiverses sounds like a science-fiction thing." Which wasn't to say it wasn't true, just that it was all a bit too perplexing and ineffable, and seemed like a long rant Crowley would get on after a few too many bottles of wine in the bookshop. Or something that Shadwell or Miss Device would believe in. But it was enough of a hand-waving explanation for the oddness they had experienced here, he supposed. "It's a shame there aren't more of us explicitly from Earth to compare notes. I should like to know some of our differences.
Tell me, did your world have a Rock-And-Roll band known as Queen? My friend's car was immensely fond of them."