December Event Log #1: Someone App Tails So He Can Get Trolled

[magicademymods]

December Event Log Now I Face Out The thunderous boom that shakes the academy on December 24th isn't all that unusual, considering Diatu's penchant for magical mishaps. But the way the air shifts and warps in an imperceptible way afterwards definitely is. The sky-spanning purple nebula that traps the magicademy in its expanse is a little suspect too. And then there's the yellow-eyed duplicates of yourself that rip themselves away from you in a burst of violet, starry smoke. "I am the Shadow, the true self!" the duplicate proclaims in a distorted voice, pointing dramatically at the original. What happens next depends on what the wizard the shadow spawned from is repressing, though. If you have an urge to cut loose and wreck shit, the shadow will be immediately destructive, tearing apart the academy around it. If you refuse to acknowledge a deep trauma in your past, the shadow may perch on a tower and radiate waves of sadness and apathy to get everyone else to feel their pain too. And so on and so forth. Whatever aspects of themself the character refuses to acknowledge, that they feel shame over, the shadow will embody to its most destructive extent possible. Oh, and the guiltier a character feels about whatever they're repressing, the more powerful their shadow is. I Hold Out The only way to stop your shadow is to accept them as a part of yourself. But seeing an embodiment of everything that you hate about yourself and having to reconcile with it is difficult. And at the slightest sign of rejection, the shadow will change into a monstrous form representative of the repressed feelings they were born from and begin lashing out. Violently. While going on an overblown motive rant. Oh, boy. But hey. Getting to literally fight back against all of the worst parts of yourself is generally cathartic enough to begin the healing process? Right? No? Well, too bad, because this thing isn't going away and somebody needs to take care of it before the situation gets worse. Thankfully, your friends are there to help you through it! Hopefully. I Reach Out to the Truth Of course there's the matter of what caused this phenomenon in the first place, and the calamitous nebula that's keeping Diatu sealed off from the outside world. Close friends of Tyzias may also notice that she's completely vanished as well. Once characters reconcile with their shadows, they can see and interact with a spiral staircase leading up to the heavens. However, considering that the staircase is crawling with hostile, mindless generic shadows and that the presence of whatever's at the top can be felt, they may want to bring a few friends before investigating. We Really Wanted To Include A Gif And Apologize For Ruining This Post. No, This Isn't a Prompt

Comments

why can't we give love that one more chance?

[temptationaccomplished]

He knocks a bit more insistently. It might be called banging on the door, but that wording makes the act sound dreadfully impolite and Aziraphale would never, ever do such a thing. Even under duress. So that loud noise is just politely insistent knocking.

"Do not do this! Do NOT shut me out! I have substantially less patience that you in this department and I will resort to- to drastic measures if I have to!"

[sauntereddown]

"And what are you going to DO?"

Aziraphale might mistake it for Crowley at first, if he doesn't know better. It's that tone Crowley sometimes gets, where he's bothered by a thing Aziraphale has said - so he acts like he finds it hilarious. Except there's an edge there, something raw and bitter.

"You don't want him, shut it!" Crowley could be talking to either of them, really. Maybe he is.

Then to Aziraphale, trying to drown out the string of hissing insults: "Where's yours? What's it like?"

[temptationaccomplished]

There is so much wrong with Crowley's voice. It has to be the Shadow, but it's not so far off from the real thing.

I will burn down this door! he thinks, holding his s-word sword up.

Except, that isn't the answer. Crowley did not burn down his barriers. He slithered up to them, offered alternatives, eased Aziraphale into the ideas over and over again until he gave in--gave in not to something the angel didn't want to do, but to questions and temptations that he had already been considering himself and only needed someone else to validate. He had needed Crowley to say what he could not say himself, back then. Needed him to smooth down the wrinkles, style things in such a way that they weren't nearly as frighteningly outside of what a good angel should do.

"Don't tell me to shut it!" He stamps his foot and glares at the door as if it's Crowley himself, but this isn't a petty fight. Aziraphale softens. "He's somewhere. He's awful, Crowley. Simply dreadful. Everything I should have been, or could have been, or am--" OH. Now there's something. He steps closer to the door. "Crowley? He's a self-righteous prig, subservient to the point of blindness. He's so scared of being wrong, he refuses to see anything contrary. I hate him. I hate being him."

[sauntereddown]

"Then do us a favor and go, and spare us-"

"Oh stop, that's never who you were!" Aziraphale has his attention now; he's shoving the shadow-him out of the way like it's an overexcited dog and addressing his partner in full. "You were miserable with them. You've got too much of a mind and a heart left to ever be anything but miserable with those bastards."

"Ssso different," the shadow mocks, "ssso set apart, nothing in you of the monsters Above and Below. No part of you wants what they have, no part of you feels what they feel."

"Shut up." The sound of furniture being pushed aside. He doesn't open the door, but he's clearly close up against it now. "Mine's - mine's a Hell of a lot, is what he is, and he throws fits and says awful things, and he hates you. He hates everything. You don't deserve to feel the things he's giving off, you did everything you could. Just let me ride it out."

[temptationaccomplished]

"But maybe I do deserve it! I was miserable, but I kept choosing them. I treated you something awful all those years, I was a bit of that nasty creature I've manifested. It has every right--YOU have every right to be mad at me for it! You are not wrong for being upset, Crowley, even if I thought I had my reasons."

He wrings his hands and twists the little principality ring on his pinkie around and looks down the hall, dreading the eventual appearance of his shadow. The pure unadulterated anger and hate of the creature on the other side of that door is starting to wear on his nerves and make him anxious and unhappy and a touch angry himself. Maybe he should just go. It'd be easier on them both. Maybe he has it all wrong... But there's also that wonderful, consistent love that's always been Crowley, and Aziraphale presses his cheek to the door and listens, because if Crowley won't open the door, he won't force him to, but he'll be here, as close as he can, as he feels he should have been all along.

"If you want me out here, I will stay out here. But I'm not leaving. You didn't leave me, even when God knows you had every right to. You're such a good, brave person, Crowley; being angry doesn't negate that."

[sauntereddown]

Crowley's hand is on the knob of the door, and he's wincing at Aziraphale's words, cringing at times. But he's not turning away, and each moment is another reconsideration of whether to turn the knob. He's snarled at Aziraphale before, manhandled him, suggested he do terrible things. Those were theatrics, though, in the name of making a point. He can count on one hand the times he's been a direct source of pain, and the thought of it now...

And then a four-letter word pings off him, makes a chink in his armor where the shadow can worm its way in. The aura of anger and sadness in the room sinks its hooks into him. Suddenly he pulls the door open, hard, his uncovered eyes flashing. Leaning against the door as he is, Aziraphale might fall forward, and of course Crowley will catch him if he does. But that'll put Aziraphale all the closer to him, and his words will be the same.

"Not good. Not nice, not kind, I'm not! It's not a funny little mistake they'll sort out in the paperwork, it happened! She threw me AWAY, She said 'no thanks, we don't want any' and I wouldn't go back if She asked me. And I'd break Her little experiment again if I had to do it over! That's who you think you should have been loyal to!"

Behind him, the shadow is looming. It's in the form of a red and black serpent now, strangely enough, even though Crowley seems to be embracing his anger. Like it's waiting for something more.

[temptationaccomplished]

The angel falls, stumbling into the room as the door swings inward on him, and he lands in Crowley's arms. The room is steeped in anger and unhappiness, and it churns inside him like a sickness. Angels are beings of love and joy, and this unrest and darkness, this room lacking in good feelings makes Aziraphale almost ill.

He can see the snake over Crowley's shoulder, watching the two of them like an unforgiving god. It is huge and monstrous and perhaps poised to strike. Maybe it will swallow him whole.

"I was scared! I didn't want to be thrown away, too! I was terrified, Crowley! Please," he pleads, clutching to Crowley's sleeves. "Please understand. I'd seen what happened to those She cast out and I couldn't--" He could. He had. He'd danced that line, but he'd refused to acknowledge and make peace with that for so long. How long had he tried to have his cake and eat it too. "...I wanted to be a good angel. I wanted to have faith. I didn't want to lose Her love. Or yours, but I didn't want to be punished, too. I thought we could all...I thought if I just believed-- I didn't want to believe you could be right if it meant She could be wrong."

[sauntereddown]

He was tripped by Crowley's own anger and impatience, yes, but Aziraphale is still very much in his arms - and Crowley is still holding the angel tight. Protective, even, ever-mindful of the shadowy snake looming over them.

"I don't know if She was wrong!" This said with an edge entirely unlike the Shadow, an edge that's all him, the demon who still looks up to the sky and demands an answer he knows isn't coming. "I've asked Her why, I've tried, and She never-" He winces, pained to admit this, something he'd never tell Aziraphale or anyone else had the aura of rage and sadness not cracked him open.

The Shadow hisses audibly but - does it seem smaller?

His arms tighten around Aziraphale as he admits, "If I've got you and the world I'm all right. I am. And I could've waited another six thousand years as long as - I've always had you, you idiot, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried. But I'm not good. And sometimes I'm so angry."

[temptationaccomplished]

"Oh, Crowley." He braves ignoring the Shadow completely, touching his forehead to Crowley's and leaning into the protective, strong embrace. God never answers any of their questions anymore; hasn't, for a great long while. He's felt so lonely and unsure, so afraid, but he had never considered that Crowley might feel the same, might genuinely wonder why he was cast out. They've had to seek their own answers. Aziraphale has always found them in Crowley.

Like now. To be reminded that he has the love that's most important to him--Crowley's friendship--soothes a wound deep inside. Crowley would have waited, no matter how much of a self-righteous, awful little angel... Crowley had waited. Time and time again. He had loved Aziraphale through it all.

"I know. You don't need to be good, or kind, or nice," he promises, his tone soft, kind, but not patronizing. "Even if you're angry, even when you're angry at me or I'm angry at you, my love for you is not conditional."

[sauntereddown]

"That's because you're an idiot," Crowley mutters, but fondly so. He's leaning back into that gentle touch against his forehead, keeping his body between Aziraphale and the serpent with every word of the exchange.

The demon exhales a shaky breath, a release of the emotional tension that's been broiling up in him, comforted as he is by his partner in his arms. And he doesn't think 'I ought to give the same back to Aziraphale.' As is so often the case with them, he just wants to, so he does.

"I like that you're a self-righteous prig, you know. And judgmental, and stubborn." He gives the angel a gentle squeeze. "It's because you give a damn." And sometimes that helps him believe that 'giving a damn' isn't a disaster waiting to happen.