Aziraphale (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tartanisstylish) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
caveofsapphires2012-05-24 09:31 pm
tartanisstylish) wrote in caveofsapphires2012-05-24 09:31 pm
Entry tags:
gave them our reactions, our explosions, all that we are;
WHO: Aziraphale, Chivy [closed]
WHAT: More powers discovery, in which Aziraphale accidentally sets himself on fire because he is talented.
WHERE: Outside Gates' and maybe moving elsewhere.
WHEN: Thursday May 24, early afternoon.
-
Aziraphale had been living off odds and ends for the last several weeks and had finally gotten fed up. It was time to conquer more of the kitchen than the kettle.
He'd had it all planned out, a combination of things that he'd found in John's cabinets and what he had left over from the pilgrimage, but he'd forgotten about the tea towels by the stove. He'd rested his elbows on them and they'd slid slightly over onto the burner, which was on, and then he'd forgotten them again and - well, by the time he started paying attention again, the towel was on fire and so was the edge of his sleeve.
The bucket of water appeared over his head before he'd had time to draw breath, and it upended over him just as he caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye. As a result, he caught a faceful of icy water. Literally icy; he felt chunks sliding down his back. The bucket bounced off of his head, clattered to the floor, and disappeared.
Wiping his eyes, Aziraphale shivered and glanced at the stove. The burners were like little arks afloat in a sea of - was that water evaporating? He felt a wave of exhaustion hit him but pushed it aside as well as he could before going to change his shirt.
A few minutes later, he'd made his way downstairs and outside, with the door to the shop propped open. It wasn't as if anyone was likely to bother him, really. He wrung out his singed shirt in the street, hung it over the top of the door to dry, and leaned against the wall, still warm from the morning sun. He knew what had just happened, more or less. It was just a matter of replicating it now. Staring into the middle distance, he tried to recreate that sudden shock of fear he'd felt when he'd seen his sleeve on fire.
WHAT: More powers discovery, in which Aziraphale accidentally sets himself on fire because he is talented.
WHERE: Outside Gates' and maybe moving elsewhere.
WHEN: Thursday May 24, early afternoon.
-
Aziraphale had been living off odds and ends for the last several weeks and had finally gotten fed up. It was time to conquer more of the kitchen than the kettle.
He'd had it all planned out, a combination of things that he'd found in John's cabinets and what he had left over from the pilgrimage, but he'd forgotten about the tea towels by the stove. He'd rested his elbows on them and they'd slid slightly over onto the burner, which was on, and then he'd forgotten them again and - well, by the time he started paying attention again, the towel was on fire and so was the edge of his sleeve.
The bucket of water appeared over his head before he'd had time to draw breath, and it upended over him just as he caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye. As a result, he caught a faceful of icy water. Literally icy; he felt chunks sliding down his back. The bucket bounced off of his head, clattered to the floor, and disappeared.
Wiping his eyes, Aziraphale shivered and glanced at the stove. The burners were like little arks afloat in a sea of - was that water evaporating? He felt a wave of exhaustion hit him but pushed it aside as well as he could before going to change his shirt.
A few minutes later, he'd made his way downstairs and outside, with the door to the shop propped open. It wasn't as if anyone was likely to bother him, really. He wrung out his singed shirt in the street, hung it over the top of the door to dry, and leaned against the wall, still warm from the morning sun. He knew what had just happened, more or less. It was just a matter of replicating it now. Staring into the middle distance, he tried to recreate that sudden shock of fear he'd felt when he'd seen his sleeve on fire.
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Someone actually outside was enough to draw his attention, and he directed his bike that way, coming to a stop nearby. "Hey," he said, cocking his head to the side. "I don't think we've met, really."
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