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spootiliousrps · 5 years ago

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Human!Aziraphale

It was true what they said, desperate people would go to desperate lengths when something was important enough. Including attempting to summon a demon when all logical ways of solving a problem were exhausted. The bookstore was important, though. Originally owned by Alfred Zachary Fell and announcing as much on the sign above the door reading A. Z. Fell that had never been changed when it passed down to his son. No point, with a name like Azira. It had an A and a Z, his last name was Fell, so it worked. It was a family store, it was his home, and now he had some uppity book collector all offended over a few titles Azira hadn't wanted to part with and the man was threatening to get him shut down for some asinine business codes that the shop wasn't quite up to date on. There were other ways to solve the problem, of course, but none that didn't mean swallowing his pride and giving in to Gabriel's self-entitlement. The occult book had practically fallen in Asira's lap. Literally. And after browsing through it curiously he was finally here, with a summoning circle drawn on his floor in chalk and eight candles lit around the edges. Couldn't hurt to try, right? The incantations was in Latin, which wasn't a problem, he knew Latin, and the final line was a fill-in-the-blank with the demon's name that was being summoned, their sigil in the center of the circle, and a call for the demon to obey all commands. Though the book did note that the demon didn't /have/ to, but it could be persuaded to. It was stuck in the circle until the candles burned down, and then it was cast back where it came from. Or part of the circle could be erased to release it. Azira also had a squirt bottle of what he hoped was actual Holy Water just in case. He read the Latin aloud word for word, feeling a bit foolish that nothing was seeming to happen so far, and ended it with, "I command thee, Crowley, the Great Serpent!" Because he refused to have to bugs, flies, maggots, mold and vermin in his shop. He could handle a snake. If anything even happened, though much to his surprise and wonder, the chalk lines in front of him began to glow a deep red.

You: The very foundation of the shop began to shudder with the force that washed out of the circle in waves until a large mass, taking up most of the space allotted curling in on itself over and over. The gargantuan serpent coiled and moved until its massive head peered out of the entanglement and down at the human that had summoned it. Its yellow eyes wondered over him repeatedly until it squinted almost in accusation. The mass began to shift once more, this time shrinking, melting into itself, morphing into a humanoid shape. Finally a slender red haired man stood before the human, clothes the same black and red that had been the color of the snake's scales. He shoved his hands in his pockets and eyed the man once more with an arched brow. "Glad to see I'm just as popular as ever but I was in the middle a particularly torturous game of chess. What do you want?"

Stranger: Considering Azira expected this to end with him feeling foolish for having attempted it in the first place, the fact that /something/ was happening had a slow building smile of wonder, awe, and disbelief stretching across his face even when he found himself looking up into the yellow eyes of a very, very large snake. Obviously the right demon then. He watched in fascination as the snake seemed to shrink then, morphing into a more humanoid shape, the voice finally shaking Azira out of his stunned glee. It was just a little bit exciting, after all, wasn't it? But then he remembered that the book spoke about having a commanding presence because demons would exploit any weakness and he quickly schooled his expression as he turned back to the book in his hands to skim across the page he was on. "Demon, I summoned you here to do my... Mmmm..." Bidding. The book said bidding. Well, that was a bit... Demanding. Azira frowned at the wording as he continued to skim through the words, all forceful and bordering on rude, and really, there was no need for that, was there? Discontent with the rest of the suggestions in the book, Azira closed it and tucked it under his arm with a slightly guilty frown. "Sorry, can I start over? I apologize for interrupting your game, I just had a small request, a favor, really, if it's not a hassle."

You: "Yes, yes, I know the general reasons." Crowley dismissed with a wave of his hand, brushing off the words. Everyone always wanted him to do their 'bidding'. Of course, he had a very high success rate; granted the 'success' was on his part not theirs. The men that summoned him rarely got exactly what they wanted. It was amusing really. He lifted his hand as if he were about to snap his fingers when the apology caught him so off guard he almost staggered, yellow eyes shooting up to meet the human's. He paused, listening to him, brows furrowed. Now... That was interesting. An occultist with manner? He certainly wasn't use to all of the politeness. "A favor?" He asked, lowering his hand, curiosity getting the better of him. "You're lucky I was losing anyways." He lied sauntering a bit closer and pausing in front of the plump human. He had to admit the man was far more easier on the eyes than any of the ones that made their way down to Hell. "I'm listening."

Stranger: To Azira, a commanding presence had more to do with earning respect, and that wasn't done by being impolite. But he also wasn't naive enough to forget that he was talking to a demon, an immortal creature of darkness that could be very dangerous and unpredictable. That didn't stop Azira from being intrigued as Crowley stepped closer and he did as well, staying just outside the boundary of the circle. "Well you see, I've found myself in a bit of a mess," he admitted. "I'm a collector of rare books and this is my shop. It's very important to me, it was started by father and he met my mother here and now it's mine. The books I have are just as important, some of them having been in my family for longer than anyone can remember. I'm picky about who I sell certain things to and given that it's my shop, I have the right to decline service. I recently refused to sell a handwritten, first draft of Hamlet to a man a few days ago and now he's threatening to report my shop for code violations and get me shut down if I don't sell to him. It's ridiculous, really, throwing a tantrum just because he isn't getting what he wants, and I'd hate to give in to such childish behavior just to keep from losing my shop." He huffed out a small sigh, looking more petulant and put out than actually /worried/.

You: Crowley's gaze narrowed once more as he considered the words. "So... Let me get this straight." He began with a sigh, moving away to pace the outline of the circle, taking in the surrounding shop. "A man comes in to buy a book you obviously don't want to part with. Throws a tantrum like a typical human... So, you decide to summon Hell's most terrifying demon to do something about it?" He scoffed with amusement, a flashing smile playing on his lips, fangs obvious. "Sounds a bit excessive." He mused, turning to face him as he walked backwards a bit, lazily. The Demon exuded nonchalance, as if he hadn't a care in the world. As if he were exactly where he wanted to be, that it had been his choice to come here. "It certainly sounds like something a human would do... Your kind always provides such overkill."

Stranger: When hearing it put like that, it did sound a bit ridiculous. Azira huffed out a soft chuckle at how all this must have looked to Crowley and he flashed the demon a much softer smile compared to the one he was receiving. "It's not quite like that. I've tried talking it over with him and making some kind of deal, I've looked how I would have to renovate in order to make sure everything was up to code, I've gone over my options. I was going to just give in when I bumped one of the shelves and this book fell off. I can't say I've exhausted all other options until I actually exhaust all other options, now can I? I didn't really think it would work. And I didn't summon you because you were the most terrifying, I summoned you because snakes don't eat paper product, discolor parchment, chew on book covers, or lay eggs between the pages. And obviously you can do things I can't in a situation like this. I thought you could roadblock him for me. Every time he goes to file a complaint, you could make it impossible. Offices not having the right forms, his calls dropping, information getting lost, things like that, until he's so frustrated he just decides it's a waste of time and gives up."

You: A laugh escaped the Demon. It wasn't like any he had ever experienced. It wasn't malicious or evil or even threatening. The laugh was one of humor, genuine unadulterated humor. The smile on the man's face was so warm it was almost infectious and his ideas were so shockingly inconvenient it almost made him breathless. This... human had a better sense of torture than most Demons. In just the few moments Crowley was there on Earth he could see that. Not to mention the amusement he caused in regards to his opinions on snakes. "And what will I get if I do what you ask?" He inquired, suddenly appearing in front of the human, so close that their breaths mingled with every word. "If I keep him away? What are you willing to sacrifice for my..." His gaze lowered, practically devouring every inch of the blond before meeting his gaze again. "Services." He practically purred.

Stranger: For a demon, Crowley's laugh was surprisingly pleasant. It wasn't some evil cackling, it didn't seem sarcastic or condescending, and Azira didn't feel like it was directed /at/ him for coming to do a demon with something so mundane and harmless. It was very disarming, so when Azira suddenly found himself face to face with the demon, much closer than before, he startled hard enough to nearly drop his book. Him fumbling with the book for a brief second was the only reason he didn't step back, too busy trying to look like he wasn't half as flustered as he suddenly felt with his cheeks warming in embarrassment. "Ah, well... My soul is out of the question, unfortunately," he answered, his voice lower since they were standing so close. "Otherwise... I don't know what services like this run for a demon. I could offer you my appreciation, not that you wouldn't get it anyway, of course. Erm..." He patted at his breast pocket, brightening a bit when he found the pen he was looking for, a sleek, shiny black one that reminded him of the black, oil-slick scales that the snake had. He slipped it out and held it to the demon with a slight shrug. "It was my father's but it matches you a bit better, I think. It's very expensive for a pen and it can write underwater. It's novel. I don't know why anyone would ever need to write underwater, but you never know, I suppose."

You: Crowly's smile only widened at the sight of the human's embarrassment. However, it was gone in an instant as the pen was offered out. His brows furrowed in confusion, gaze lowering to peer at the pen. "Demon's don't value things the way humans do... Expensive doesn't matter." He mumbled absently as he lifted a hand to take the pen. He turned it over in his hands, examining it carefully. It was nothing more than an over glorified piece of metal and ink. Still, something about it warmed Crowley's cold blooded nature. His pensive expression turned more into an unease frown as he glared at the object, still studying it. It matched him? Because of the color? He would have no use for it. Couldn't use it to barter or trade in Hell... Doubted he'd ever need to write something underwater... And yet... Now that it was in his possession he certainly didn't want to let it go. Finally, he huffed, gaze lifting to the human as he tucked it away in his pocket. "Very well. A trivial item for a trivial matter." He seemed to scoff. He gave a quick nonchalant snap of his fingers. "Your problem is taken care of." He reassured. "And Human?" He addressed meeting his gaze once more. "If you need anything else, don't be afraid to call." He teased, shooting him a wink before disappearing.

Stranger: "Expensive might matter but maybe the novelty does?" Azira offered uncertainly. He wasn't really sure what mattered to a demon, really. He assumed things like pain and misery, but that was probably just a stereotype. Crowley didn't seem too interested in pain and misery, he seemed to like the idea of causing inconveniences and embarrassment, though. Surprisingly enough, the pen was accepted, and Azira smiled brightly in response, just about to ask what all this entail when it was done, just like that, with a snap of the demon's fingers. He had no proof that it was actually taken care of but the appreciation and relief was very clear when those yellow eyes met his again. (Crowley's eyes were very interesting, beautiful in a otherworldly, unique sort of way.) Azira didn't get the chance to say anything more before the demon was disappearing but it was definitely an encounter he wouldn't forget. In fact, it was one he found himself thinking about often over the next several weeks. It was silly, but he hadn't heard a word from the disgruntled man he had refused to sell to and no trouble with the shop, Azira couldn't help but feel the need to thank the demon somehow. Then he changed past a storefront with a stunning lapel pin, a snake in twisting silver with golden topaz eyes. He bought it and spent the next several days worrying over how weird it would be to just call the demon up to give it to him as a thank you. The perfect solution presented itself on a rainy Wednesday when Azira was was marking a discount sign with a sharpie. He capped the marker, stuck it in the breast pocket of his jacket, and five minutes later he was groaning in despair over the dark black stain growing over the cream fabric. This was his /favorite/ blazer and the damn marker had probably bled through the vest and shirt underneath, knowing how sharpies were. It was incredibly disheartening, this brand had gone out of business last year and he would never be able to get the stain out! He tossed the ruined marker and decided to close the shop early for emotional distress, having just locked the door when he realized who /could/ get the stain out. Soon he had it all set back up, ruined jacket still on and his little "present" tucked in his pocket and he read the incantation once more.

You: The giant snake appeared just as it had the last time. Typically the action of being yanked out of Hell and deposited into the Human plain was disorientating and forced Demon's into their parallel form. However, the action wasn't as shocking as it had been the first time Aziraphale had called on him so, it didn't take as long for him to shift into a more appropriate form. Soon enough, the red haired humanoid stood before the blond, the same leather clothing squeezing his form as he peered at him. "Back so soon?" He asked with a small flash of teeth as he smiled at him, yellow gaze amused. He caught sight of the stain almost instantly but didn't comment as he glanced about the shop curiously. "What is it this time?" He asked absently. "Spilt milk? Tea too cold?" He teased lightly, toeing the edge of the circle, knowing he wouldn't be allowed to pass it without the Human's consent.

Stranger: Azira frowned at the teasing, shutting the book and setting it aside before approaching the edge of the circle. "An incident with a permanent marker, actually," he admitted, sighing and tugging at the edge of his jacket to draw attention to the stain. Not that Crowley hadn't noticed, Azira saw his gaze go right to the large black blotch before anything else. "I would never waste your time by calling you for something I could easily fix myself. I can clean my own milk spill and warm up my own tea, but this jacket is my favorite and they're no longer on the shelves so I can't go buy another." He tried to make himself look at pitiful as he could, which wasn't too hard with how genuinely upset he was over the ruined blazer. "Surely something like this would be effortless for you, wouldn't it?"

You: Crowley's attention turned to him and he eyed the blazer with an arched brow. "It would." He acknowledged, still circling. "If I were so-" He paused as his gaze landed on the man's expression, he looked so pitiful, that put was... No, no, no. Crowley would /not/ fall for that. "Inclined." He finished, moving over to him. "My help always comes with a price, human." He reminded. "What do you have for me this time?" He asked curiously.

Stranger: "Of course," Azira answered. "I wouldn't dream of asking for a service I didn't intend to pay for." He figured with how small a task this was, the lapel pin was more than enough to cover it and be considered a thank you. Not because it was expensive, but maybe because Azira had specifically gotten it with Crowley in mind and specifically to show his appreciation. Maybe demons could tell those sorts of things, he wasn't sure, but he slipped the flat, velvet box out of his pocket and passed it through the circle to the other. And alright, maybe he was just a bit nervous about this. It wasn't like it was something he had laying around that he was offering up, that would be understandable if it wasn't to the demon's liking, it was a very intentional gift and Azira wasn't sure if the demon would even /like/ it. "It reminded me of you," he offered in way of a defense, waving his hand absently as if this was no big deal. And it shouldn't be, really. It wasn't. Absolutely not.

You: Crowley eyed the box with some hesitance, his forked tongue darting out to taste Azira's nervousness along with any other emotions the man may be having. Still, Crowley swiped the box from his hands almost instinctively and popped it open. He caught a quick glimpse of the pin before the vision of how it was bought forced its way into his mind. The simple knowledge that the man had picked it out for him suddenly forcing its way into his mind. He frowned down at it. As a Demon he could sense corruption, greed, ambition... None of it came with the pin. Azira had simply gotten it to give it to the Demon and no other reason. It was unsettling. He didn't like it. Still... He tucked the box into his pocket shooting the human a glare. He wasn't angry exactly... simply confused. Still he lifted a hand and blew softly, the stain slowly lifting away and dissolving into the air. After a moment he straightened. "There, all better." He stated evenly as he met his gaze. "You know, human... Eventually you will ask me to do something that little trinkets can not pay for." He pointed out.

Stranger: The glare had Azira worried that this interaction was going to a step too far, maybe... But then Crowley was slipping the box away and the black stain on his jacket was dissolving right into the air until there wasn't a single discolored thread where it had been. Azira wasn't sure what to make of the mixed signals. How often did someone bother to thank a demon, though? Maybe Crowley just wasn't used to it and didn't know what to make of it just as much as Azira didn't really know what to make of /him/. He smiled gratefully but the demon's words made it fade into something uncertain. "Oh... I don't know about that, Crowley. Really, this just gave me an excuse to thank you for your help last time. It seemed like something so simple for you to do but it really took a lot of weight and worry off my shoulders, that means a lot to me. But otherwise... I'm pretty simple. I have everything I want already. I don't have much need for more demonic intervention than what you've already provided."

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