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[Jun. 19th, 2008|09:53 pm] |
Who: Aziraphale and Crowley
What: Chess (which is to say, who knows?)
When: Backdated to... Wednesday? Yesterday.
Warnings: There's no telling. We haven't quite decided, yet.
Crowley wasn't quite sure what to make of the sickeningly modern building the Angel had directed him to. Looking around the lobby, he decided it was something he could imagine himself designing- perhaps he had. He hardly remembered all of the designs he had created, over his decades in New York. Still, it was hardly the sort of thing he expected his ang- Aziraphale, to bother with.
Deciding to stop thinking so far into things, he simply willed himself to the Angel's front room, lounging over his disgustingly chic leather couch. Rather than announce his presence, he simply reached over to turn on the over-priced flat-screen TV, settling on one of his soaps. In Thai. |
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