Thursday, August 22, 2002 2:03:44 PM
hidoko Matsumoto (aka v0id)
email: voidmatsumoto@yahoo.co.uk
archive: if you really want, please ask. Scheduled to be at http://xz0ne.cjb.net
pairing: Crowley x Aziraphale, appearance of Marilyn Manson (without the Spooky Kids).
notes: Life is full of irony. I think I spend more money on doctors than food, and they gave me multi vitamins. O_o; It's a dilemma having to choose between calling Marilyn Manson either the first name or the last. It's all too symbolic, but for the sake of convenience… Heck it!^_^
Disclaimer: Sigh. Don't sue me. Actually
I have nothing to lose so I don't care if you do.
NC-13—reading Dracula takes
its toll. OOCness for everyone.^_^;
Crystalline. The tears that
rolled down Aziraphale's cheeks were crystalline, and perfect. A lovely
drop of sorrow with ages embedded in, ages and ages of hope and despair,
of sin and salvation…
"I wouldn't kill you, Aziraphale,"
Crowley held him tighter, as if he could press the angel into himself,
and be whole again, "You'll live on with it. Don't ask me anymore, angel.
You're perfect and sinless…"
As you are, covered with
whips slashed by time across your heart, across your soul, till you've
bled your all of your tears…
Till you've lost all your
faith and love, and is nothing but a chunk of meat, bloody and raw, being
scrutinized at a market.
"I'll never win you if we fight,
and you know that."
"I wouldn't fight you," whispered
the angel with a hoarse voice. "If it satisfies you, Crowley… Imprint the
memory of pain on me, forever. If I did it to so many of you…"
The long, thin fingers trembled
as they reached up Aziraphale's neck, and fangs pressed by the vein, causing
blood to bleed. Blood that would have been deemed as a human's, but was
as holy as the love that Crowley fed on.
"If it can cause me as much
pain as I caused them…" He closed his eyes, as he felt himself floating
away, away from the body as if he was the essence of life itself, and felt
himself flowing into Crowley, as if they were once meant to be this way,
as if once upon a time their blood mingled as one.
Crowley lifted his chin from
the angel's neck, crimson tears dripping wet in a faint blossom on his
mouth.
"…" The angel bit his lower
lips, and refrained from crying aloud, as he drifted away…
Aziraphale woke up to find
himself lying on the plain. He opened his eyes and turned his head, to
see Adam lying down beside him, watching the clouds roll by.
"It looks more like a bat,"
he heard himself say.
"No, look at that bit over
there. The entire bit of that part of the sky."
Aziraphale found himself
looking at a larger part of the puzzle, and smiled, "Yes, this face looks
like Crowley."
"Look, it's drifting away!"
As clouds drift away it changed
shape, and the sky gradually became only a sky, nothing else.
As Aziraphale woke up, a moan
escaped from his pale lips. The body was drained of blood and energy, and
so Aziraphale found it increasingly difficult to move. He tried to lift
his hand to brush away the clump of hair that fell into his eyes, but even
this attempt faltered.
Crowley watched from where
he sat, his brows furrowed.
"…I saw you, Crowley." Aziraphale
finally managed, "Until I woke."
"It doesn't matter now," He
said, lowering his head, "It's all the same."
"…Do you see me as less of
an existence than you are, Crowley?" Aziraphale buried his face into the
pillow, and wept. The tears flooded the pillow, while the bed shook gently
with the body as if it was the air surrounding a trembling leaf.
"…No," Crowley remained where
he was, and spoke truthfully, "…You're always a perfect angel."
Silence.
Crowley reached for a knife,
and, dragging the tip across his wrist, watched wryly as the blood spilled
in an almost frantic manner away from this mortal shell. He pressed it
against Aziraphale's lips, lips which had been drained of blood and had
turned a sickly hue.
Aziraphale shook his head,
lips curling into a smile.
The deep red trickled off Aziraphale's
lips, onto his neck, and soaked into the pillow. The osmosis was a fresh,
pure red.
Crowley gradually withdrew
his wrist, a pained expression sneaking onto his face and stealing his
composure. "Why, angel…?"
The angel lay there, eyes closed,
heartbeat slowly fading.
A Bentley swerved into Tadfield,
and a man clad in black leather pants wearing a pair of sunglasses, got
out. He pursed his lips slightly as he adjusted the glasses, and stepped
onto the pavement after a thoughtful pause. He had dark hair, looked as
if he needed a shave, and was incredibly, painfully, beautiful.
Brian almost froze when he
saw this man.
He watched as this man stepped
into the suspicious house of Anathema, and found himself smitten.
"Who is that, Pepper?"
"Friend of Anathema's?" Suggested
Wensleydale, who pushed his glasses up his nose to get a better look.
Pepper grinned, and nudged
him in the ribs, "I have no idea, but he sure is hot. Reckon we could drop
by Anathema's?"
Adam looked up, and noted,
"The angel isn't with him."
"I'm sure Anathema wouldn't
mind, would she?" Pepper said enthusiastically, as she got ready to skip
out of her workplace.
"Hey, come back here!" Yelled
the boss.
"As soon as I'm done," Pepper
grinned cheerfully.
"Suddenly I'm into vampire
roleplaying again."
"Wait a minute," Brian paused
thoughtfully, and whipped out from his handbag a stick of black lipstick
and another of black eyeliner, "We shouldn't go unarmed."
"Hell yeah!" Pepper
bounced her way towards the washroom after Brian.
"Can I have some, pretty please?"
Adam begged.
Brian with makeup wasn't Brian.
He was Marilyn Manson. He was the one who was desired, and he would get
whatever he desired, no questions asked.* As the crew knocked on Anathema's
door and stepped into the house, he cleared his throat, and waited expectantly
for all eyes to be on him. However, this wasn't America, or anyplace else—it
was Tadfield, the middle of nowhere.
Crowley conveniently ignored
them all as Anathema greeted them with a welcoming smile on her face.
"Adam!" Grinned Macy, as she
pounced onto the boy. Dog sniffed the air, turned suddenly at Zen, and
growled.
"No, Dog!" Came anguished cries
as Macy scooped up the kitten and Adam scooped up Dog. "Bad boy, Dog! Any
friend of Macy's is a friend, you hear me? Bad, bad boy!"
Dog lowered its head, and whimpered.
Natural instincts were natural instincts, after all.
"Er," Newt's grin froze as
he confronted the makeup-mosnters, "Trick or treat, isn't it? Heh. Heh."
Anathema gave him a look, and
smiled at the not-really-kids. "Brian! Pepper! Wensley—"
"And Adam." Adam grinned up
at her, and gave her a kiss on her hand. He had been Macy's sole companion
for years now, given that the Them had grown up and there weren't many
kids in the neighbourhood.
Manson strutted towards the
newcomer, and, smiling at him, sat down beside him on the couch.
"I haven't seen you around,
but then again, it's been a long time since I was in Tadfield." He gestured
melodramatically, "If I may know who you are?"
"Crowley," replied the stranger,
"Anthony J Crowley."
"Ah. That's a… pretty… name."
Manson ignored the coughing he heard from behind him, and the exclusive
bitching from the Them about him monopolizing the new visitor, "It must
be quite interesting to meet someone who finally matches your dress sense,
isn't it? And behold. My name is… Marilyn Manson."
Crowley pushed his sunglasses
down, and, being unable to resist the temptation, gave Manson a Glare of
Utter Unholiness that would have sent any local peeing in his pants.
Manson merely laughed, "Those
are nice contacts. I usually wear them, tastefully done, of course.**"
Finally the Them couldn't take
it anymore. Here they were, letting Brian take over all the limelight.
Afterall, they were sure he'd had enough in Las Vegas, where all those
funny neon sparkles came from.
"And I am Melon Collie and
the Infinite Pepper,***" Chirped in Pepper.
"Wensleydale, but they call
me Wensley," Pepper nudged him, and Wensleydale added, desperately, "The
Lord of Vampires."
"Oh," Crowley murmured, inching
away from the teens as much as possible.
"Well, I play my violin a little
in my dark lair," supplied Wensleydale, "And I drink from the blood of,
er, my hapless victims."
"And my mom does occult stuff,"
Pepper grinned.
"Dog can chase his tail," Adam
chirped in, "When he bites it we all laugh at him."
"And I am the Antichrist,"
Manson gave Crowley what he percieved to be the Knowing Smile, "Antichrist
Superstar."
Crowley raised an eyebrow from
behind the sunglasses, and inched further away from them, "Oh. Gee. It's
been… interesting."
~~~~
* including money-back guarantee.
** Please don't choke on the irony
that is prevalent in some parts of the dialogues… I admit, much of a fan
as I am, cough, cough, I enjoy sarcasm as much as the guy does, only in
a different way. So… Mouwahahaha. OOC-ness is always interesting.^_^ Besides,
taste
is subjective.
*** The most Smashing of Pumpkins,
please forgive me. Yours truly couldn't resist it, lame as it was.
Saturday, August 24, 2002 3:25:57
AM