Entity
Disclaimer - By no accounts do I own any characters in this story. Except for the gypsy. I don't know if anyone wants to claim ownership of a gypsy
A/N - Hello people, my frist story here. Just a short little thing I wrote with a quick burst of inspiration. Hope it is vaguely enjoyable. 'Tis an idea as to how Crowley and Aziraphale first met. Called Entity through entire lack of idea for a title...
~~~
A mischievous smirk flickered across the lithe, dark haired humans face. He watched with a keen eye as the gypsy mounted the great granite structure, no more than twenty yards from the one behind which he took refuge. The young man, drenched in under washed, over-worn colourless garments and a wave of dirt blond dreadlocks cascading down his spine, unsteadily gained an upright posture on top of the great tor, and gazed upon the land sweeping below him as if it possessed a mystical quality.
That sensation upon which Crowley based his very existence - that element of misbehaviour - was swelling in his chest, and forming a limitless, playful grin upon his face. He considered all the options open to him. They were numerous in quantity. Endless possibilities for his victim. His victim who was completely unaware that a supernatural entity was watching, so close at hand.
He had always wondered what it was like - to have limbs. Being a serpent did have its highs, but was nothing compared to this. It's a good deal more difficult to tempt people when the human race now either screamed in terror at the sight of a snake or tried to club it. Finally realising the impracticality of having a Field Worker who was a serpent (and after a great deal of whining from Crowley), his master had finally granted his human form with some helpful additions.
These additions included a handful of possibilities on the miracle side of things. It had taken all of Crowley's collectiveness to not get terribly overexcited and cause a lot of problems for above and below with all the new-found things he could do to humans.
Cracking his knuckled, he attentively observed the young man. From his sheltered point, behind the boulder, he could only ponder on just how windy it was, on the summit of this great hill. Actually, strictly speaking that wasn't quite true. A freak gust of wind which would disadvantage the young traveller for some time was very tempting, but not incredibly practical, or discreet, or modern, Crowley chastised himself. He needed to stop thinking so damn primitive.
After all, he had been on the Earth now for some 564 years.
Noting the advancing storm clouds and the exposed vantage point the man stood upon, Crowley simply couldn't resist the opportunity. Within seconds the clouds seemed to boil, tumbling, expanding, towering upwards and menacingly, as if the wrath of Hell was clenching a tight fist of pure energy. Eyes flashing hungrily, Crowley gritted his teeth and balled his hands in anticipation. The cold air whipped about the hill, screaming in a fury. A spark of light leapt through the midst of black - and another - and another.
Suddenly something nauseating struck Crowley. Whatever had been feeding him this great energy was abruptly, and ungraciously, short-circuited. The conjuring expression was wiped away and wide-eyed confusion took its place. He raised his head dumbly, before the realisation hit him that, not only was he being watched, but the watcher was ethereal.
Coupled with embarrassment came enragement, as the Demon raised his head to see the magnificent storm cloud recoiling quicker than it had formed. Not only recoiling, but disappearing altogether. The sun seemed to grow warming and bright, the wind drop to a pleasant breeze, and there was not a single cloud in the sky.
And still he had not spotted the entity that dwelt in unnervingly close residence. He twisted his head round this way and that, silently demanding that the interferer reveal themselves.
A polite, yet undeniably amused giggle sounded from his left.
Crowley leapt up to face the creature, casting him as fiendish a glare as he could muster.
Seated upon a boulder, with what would have been a very proper posture had it not been for the amused slant in his shoulders, was a human. Not a human, Crowley noted swiftly, a heavenly body who hid behind a disguise like his own. His feet were knitted around each other, in perfectly kept sandals, and he was draped in a simple robe. His hair hung in well-kept, golden curls about his jaw bone, skin pale yet tinted with a touch of tantalizing pink, and good cheek-bones. If Crowley hadn't had known better, he would have thought the creature dim-witted, innocent and harmless.
But this was an angel. Not your typical pretty boy from the travelling theatre groups.
The Angel's eyes fluttered open and alighted on the Demon as if for the first time. They shone a brilliant blue, a delighted blue, which broadcasted how humorous he had found disrupting the tempter's fieldwork. Puzzlingly, no hostility. In fact, no bad feeling whatsoever.
Crowley scowled as he saw the Angel's face once again crinkle into glee, this time tossing his head back and uttering a rich, unsuppressed, tinkering laugh. Crowley was amazed that the gypsy hadn't heard. He huffed sulkily, yet continued to carefully analyse the blond ones every move. He had not encountered any representative from Heaven ever since he had been denounced, and had no idea just what power they potentially held over him.
The only philosophy he had heard from anyone in regards to the situation was that light will eradicate shadows and darkness without an effort. And that wasn't particularly encouraging.
The Angel's laughter subsided into little chuckles, a nervous smile dancing upon his lips. Crowley couldn't get over just how harmless he seemed. And that ignited further the feelings of indignity. That this creature should so easily distract his work and then find it funny.
Beginning to lose his cool, Crowley acted impulsively. He motioned towards the man on the tor, and, without a glance, caused a powerful gust of wind which knocked him right off his feet and sent him hurtling into a rather uncomfortable gorse thicket.
"Well, that made the look drop from the smug bastards face." Crowley thought proudly.
The Angel was, at first, appalled by the foul play, yet seemed to then let the incident pass with a shrug of his shoulders. With a light and sickeningly likeable smile, the Angel dismounted his boulder, turned his back on Crowley, knotted his fingers behind his back and paced away, humming pleasantly to himself.
~~~
I would love a review or two, it would be very much appreciated =) Have a lovely day all!
Disclaimer - By no accounts do I own any characters in this story. Except for the gypsy. I don't know if anyone wants to claim ownership of a gypsy
A/N - Hello people, my frist story here. Just a short little thing I wrote with a quick burst of inspiration. Hope it is vaguely enjoyable. 'Tis an idea as to how Crowley and Aziraphale first met. Called Entity through entire lack of idea for a title...
~~~
A mischievous smirk flickered across the lithe, dark haired humans face. He watched with a keen eye as the gypsy mounted the great granite structure, no more than twenty yards from the one behind which he took refuge. The young man, drenched in under washed, over-worn colourless garments and a wave of dirt blond dreadlocks cascading down his spine, unsteadily gained an upright posture on top of the great tor, and gazed upon the land sweeping below him as if it possessed a mystical quality.
That sensation upon which Crowley based his very existence - that element of misbehaviour - was swelling in his chest, and forming a limitless, playful grin upon his face. He considered all the options open to him. They were numerous in quantity. Endless possibilities for his victim. His victim who was completely unaware that a supernatural entity was watching, so close at hand.
He had always wondered what it was like - to have limbs. Being a serpent did have its highs, but was nothing compared to this. It's a good deal more difficult to tempt people when the human race now either screamed in terror at the sight of a snake or tried to club it. Finally realising the impracticality of having a Field Worker who was a serpent (and after a great deal of whining from Crowley), his master had finally granted his human form with some helpful additions.
These additions included a handful of possibilities on the miracle side of things. It had taken all of Crowley's collectiveness to not get terribly overexcited and cause a lot of problems for above and below with all the new-found things he could do to humans.
Cracking his knuckled, he attentively observed the young man. From his sheltered point, behind the boulder, he could only ponder on just how windy it was, on the summit of this great hill. Actually, strictly speaking that wasn't quite true. A freak gust of wind which would disadvantage the young traveller for some time was very tempting, but not incredibly practical, or discreet, or modern, Crowley chastised himself. He needed to stop thinking so damn primitive.
After all, he had been on the Earth now for some 564 years.
Noting the advancing storm clouds and the exposed vantage point the man stood upon, Crowley simply couldn't resist the opportunity. Within seconds the clouds seemed to boil, tumbling, expanding, towering upwards and menacingly, as if the wrath of Hell was clenching a tight fist of pure energy. Eyes flashing hungrily, Crowley gritted his teeth and balled his hands in anticipation. The cold air whipped about the hill, screaming in a fury. A spark of light leapt through the midst of black - and another - and another.
Suddenly something nauseating struck Crowley. Whatever had been feeding him this great energy was abruptly, and ungraciously, short-circuited. The conjuring expression was wiped away and wide-eyed confusion took its place. He raised his head dumbly, before the realisation hit him that, not only was he being watched, but the watcher was ethereal.
Coupled with embarrassment came enragement, as the Demon raised his head to see the magnificent storm cloud recoiling quicker than it had formed. Not only recoiling, but disappearing altogether. The sun seemed to grow warming and bright, the wind drop to a pleasant breeze, and there was not a single cloud in the sky.
And still he had not spotted the entity that dwelt in unnervingly close residence. He twisted his head round this way and that, silently demanding that the interferer reveal themselves.
A polite, yet undeniably amused giggle sounded from his left.
Crowley leapt up to face the creature, casting him as fiendish a glare as he could muster.
Seated upon a boulder, with what would have been a very proper posture had it not been for the amused slant in his shoulders, was a human. Not a human, Crowley noted swiftly, a heavenly body who hid behind a disguise like his own. His feet were knitted around each other, in perfectly kept sandals, and he was draped in a simple robe. His hair hung in well-kept, golden curls about his jaw bone, skin pale yet tinted with a touch of tantalizing pink, and good cheek-bones. If Crowley hadn't had known better, he would have thought the creature dim-witted, innocent and harmless.
But this was an angel. Not your typical pretty boy from the travelling theatre groups.
The Angel's eyes fluttered open and alighted on the Demon as if for the first time. They shone a brilliant blue, a delighted blue, which broadcasted how humorous he had found disrupting the tempter's fieldwork. Puzzlingly, no hostility. In fact, no bad feeling whatsoever.
Crowley scowled as he saw the Angel's face once again crinkle into glee, this time tossing his head back and uttering a rich, unsuppressed, tinkering laugh. Crowley was amazed that the gypsy hadn't heard. He huffed sulkily, yet continued to carefully analyse the blond ones every move. He had not encountered any representative from Heaven ever since he had been denounced, and had no idea just what power they potentially held over him.
The only philosophy he had heard from anyone in regards to the situation was that light will eradicate shadows and darkness without an effort. And that wasn't particularly encouraging.
The Angel's laughter subsided into little chuckles, a nervous smile dancing upon his lips. Crowley couldn't get over just how harmless he seemed. And that ignited further the feelings of indignity. That this creature should so easily distract his work and then find it funny.
Beginning to lose his cool, Crowley acted impulsively. He motioned towards the man on the tor, and, without a glance, caused a powerful gust of wind which knocked him right off his feet and sent him hurtling into a rather uncomfortable gorse thicket.
"Well, that made the look drop from the smug bastards face." Crowley thought proudly.
The Angel was, at first, appalled by the foul play, yet seemed to then let the incident pass with a shrug of his shoulders. With a light and sickeningly likeable smile, the Angel dismounted his boulder, turned his back on Crowley, knotted his fingers behind his back and paced away, humming pleasantly to himself.
~~~
I would love a review or two, it would be very much appreciated =) Have a lovely day all!