InsaneJournal

Who: Aziraphale and Yvaine
What: Two lost souls. Well, a lost angel and a lost former star.
Where: Aziraphale's bookstore
When: Today, afternoon
Rating/Status: PG, in progress


Yvaine was miserable. She hated admitting it but could no longer deny the fact that her momentary bad mood had turned into a full-on state. And this wasn't new for her – she'd had a mood that lasted most of the latter half of the 15th century – but it was disconcerting when combined with her changes in biology. Truthfully the bodily adjustments were only making it harder. Remembering to eat on a schedule that seemed constant, having to deal with all manner of secretions and expulsions, having to do things like wash, not being able to hear or feel things properly... it was distracting and confusing and upsetting. Combine that with her poorly-hidden dismay at Obi-Wan's continued aloofness and she was more depressed than she'd ever been. If she'd still been a star she would not have been shining at all. And that thought, and the reminder that now she would never shine again, made her want to burst into tears.

Still, Yvaine was not known for her tolerance of foolishness, and that was not meant to exclude herself. And there was only so long she would let herself wallow when she was supposed to be living at a human scale. She couldn't be in a bad mood for a century when she didn't even have a century left. This line of reasoning stopped before it got to carpe diem and other banalities, but it did propel her out of the flat. A coat in her size had appeared one day, though Obi-Wan hadn't said anything when she clumsily attempted to thank him, and she had widened her excursions from the building to the city.

Many of the shops seemed strange to her, selling items she wouldn't ever think to need – gadgets and gizmos that were far beyond her, even the cookery store selling things for purposes she couldn't understand. But one bookstore caught her eye; it was simple and understated and, somehow, familiar. It wouldn't have been out of place in the Fairy Market. And as she stepped into the shop, a bell chiming over her head, the atmosphere felt familiar as well. Cluttered, perhaps, but not full of blinking lights or shining metal.