"Oh," Aziraphale said absently, rounding the corner and smiling fondly at the bar in front of them. "Was that you? I think I might have been with the Celts for a few centuries around then." He had to admit, it was creative - make yourself a god? Not that he approved, it was terrible, it was deliberately sacrilegious, but it did have a certain style.

Once upon a time he hadn't known what style was.

"I'm afraid to ask," he sighed, pushing the door open.