now I'm waiting for something to fall from the skies

[temptationaccomplished]

Who: Aziraphale, Eleven, and Yotsuyu… AND YOU
Where: The school
When: October 10th and onward
What: Mr. A.Z. Fell requests the presence of Mr. Anthony J. Crowley at Diatu Magicademy. ...Perhaps he should have been more specific in HOW. (Aziraphale summons a demon)
Warnings: I'm WAY too excited for my own good?!!



There was a lot of great wisdom that ran something like this:

If you want something done, do it yourself. If you want it to happen, make it happen

If Crowley wasn't going to just show up here by his own accord--or by whatever means of Sundering had brought the rest of them here in the first place--than Aziraphale was going to bring him here himself.

And he knew of one rumored way to do so. Summoning. Because that was apparently what you did with demons. You summoned them. And he couldn't have been placed in Ka--the House of Sundering, the House of I'm-Pretty-Sure-They're-Summoning-Demons--for no ineffable reason.

So he was going to summon a demon. One demon. One very specific demon.

He had taken every precaution he could. [1] Aziraphale had chosen an out of the way, largely unused corridor deep into the schoolgrounds to serve as his summoning location in the hopes of both secrecy and safety. A glyph was in place as a ward, to trap anything that might come through. He had assembled assistance. Yotsuyu had led her expertise and provided a second look at Aziraphale's spells. Eleven was here to defend the school from wayward demons who might accidentally be summoned into the circle and break the ward. All that was left was to summon his demon.

A soft whisper into the still air: "I will ask you for no more frivolous miracles on my selfish behalf. Just grant this one. Please."

The circle was completed.



[1] Well, not every precaution. He had decided against Holy Water.


[[ooc: I'll put up Minithreads in a moment! Hang tight!]]

Comments

[OPEN] - Choose your Own

[temptationaccomplished]

[Crowley, stuck in Aziraphale's body, out and about in the school.

Do you notice something a bit off about your classmate? He's restless in class, as though he has somewhere else to be and is only here to maintain appearances. He's a little irritated, a little less friendly, and he may have forgotten your name or something you recently discussed. Maybe you caught him slouching a bit when no one else was around. He might have missed a few mealtimes, might look a little lost. You may even have spotted him sauntering (oh my!) if he briefly forgot himself.

But he says he's Mr. Fell. So he must be, right?]

[hyperdrivemonalisa]

[Isabel has brothers. Siblings. People who attempt to pull the wool over an elder sibling's eyes and fail, often miserably.

So while she has her suspicions (and many of them), instead of calling Mr. Fell out on what may definitely be his bullshit, Isabel decides to take a gentler tactic. To wit; food. A bottle of decent ale (since 18 is old enough to drink here, even if she doesn't personally indulge), something touted as a steak-and-stout pie from a street cart (it smells delightful!), and one of the petite fruit pies (this one is amaretto cherry) from her favorite bakery.]

You're not you when you're hungry. Eat up! [As she places this bounty, and a fork, before Fell-slash-Crowley. Really, it probably wouldn't matter to her if she knew the truth. He's not being terribly demonic, as these things go, after all.]

[temptationaccomplished]

[ He realizes he should eat because Aziraphale would, and because this girl seems to know that. But Crowley has no particular stomach for food right now, not when he's had no good leads on returning the Angel to his proper form, so all he does is tap the crust of the meat pie with his the tines of his fork. The ale's a bit tempting, though.]

Ah, thank you. I apologize if I've been out of sorts. How very considerate and generous of you to think of me. Smells, uh, delightful.

[ He arranges the food in front of him, shuffling some of the notes and quill and inkpot to the side, and waits to see if she'll leave him. ].

[hyperdrivemonalisa]

[Crowley will be disappointed, seeing as Isabel stands there with a hand on her hip, idly twisting a tendril of hair between her fingers. She can tell something's off, but they're in public, so she doesn't really want to call him out.]

Just have a couple bites while it's hot, hey? I mean I can see you're busy, but even before the Great Hall yeeted itself to who knows where, it's not like I saw you there at all. And I know you haven't got a job to get a serious stipend yet, so it's not like you're eating down in the city.

Besides, you look upset about something. So what's up? [He can damn the young Mage's intuition and insight all he likes, but really, she means well.]

[temptationaccomplished]

[That IS disappointing and now he all but squirms under the scrutiny, his anxiety balling in his stomach. They're in public. And he's pretty sure she knows he's not Aziraphale. He struggles for an excuse while on the spot and comes up with a hasty and not untruthful:]

I'm, uh. Well. Yeah. [The word slips out before he catches it.] Having a bit of trouble. I am trying to find a friend--A, uh, a spell to reunite me with a friend. [Smooth.]

[hyperdrivemonalisa]

[Probably, but she also doesn't seem to be inclined to call him on it, either, save for the fact that he--even if he's not Mr. Fell--isn't eating, and she disapproves of that. Mortal bodies need to eat! Isabel's brow furrows thoughtfully, though.]

I know what I'd do if I were home, but...I'm here, and magic here doesn't work like it does here. You haven't gotten very far, I guess, have you?

[At least she's got sympathy for this devil demon? She'd try to peer over his notes, but if nothing else, Fell would expect her to be polite, so she is.]

[temptationaccomplished]

[Well, he's going to have to get help anyway, he supposes, so with a sigh, he admits:]

Not really. I've looked over the notes and far as I can tell, there isn't anything wrong with any of it. It just...doesn't work.

Could be...--who knows. Stay line, mispronounced word, lack of power to back up the spell. It's different than I thought it'd be, this magic. All Greek to me--mmn, not Greek, know Greek, maybe it's more like Greek-adjacent: close, but still foreign enough. [He flicks at a page of notes.]