earth angel, earth angel [will you be mine] -- joining

[aziraphale.]

[glow=#000,1,400]I'M AN ANGEL WITH A SHOTGUN, SHOTGUN, SHOTGUN.... — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

There were many things that Aziraphale had witnessed throughout his unending, and ongoing life as the dutiful angel that he was expected to be[sup][1][/sup]. He'd seen miracles, of how the great divine being known to mortals as God crafted the earth, how archangels reveled in their positions to prepare for the world that would lead up to the inevitable war between heaven and hell[sup][2][/sup]. Yet, one thing that he'd never experienced was the possibility of hopping to another universe that was so similar to the one he lives in, yet so different. If Aziraphale was anything else than what was considered a supernatural entity[sup][3][/sup], perhaps he would have been baffled at such profound and mind-boggling idea. Now, such an idea wasn't too far off, for if Satan could possibly have a son that turned out to be more good than what he would have accounted for, to make the most incredulous of theories and ideas come to reality, then the reality of other universes isn't really farfetched as many mortals would think.

The conception of visiting different universes was probably what made him end up in here, a world of animals having similar sentience to that of man, where instincts of hunting and killing prey and smaller animals for dominance are ignored in some cases to form these groups that inhabit different areas, develop their own traditions and rank systems and ideologies and culture. It reminded Aziraphale a bit of how Eden was before Adam and Eve left in pursuit of the world outside Eden, curiosity and the knowledge between good and bad filling their very souls. While it was very foreign from the Earth that he knew, there was still the same similarities, where war, and suffering, and hatred, and persecution all still existed.

It's unfortunately amongst the many things that existed in this universe, and Aziraphale did spot the clear opportunities to spread love, goodness, and kind deeds about in the place of the world. It was why he initially struggled to see which of these groups should he join first. To other angels, the most obvious choice would have been Elysium, with morals driven straight to seeking justice- morals that would have made the entirety of heaven preen for their choice. To Aziraphale, he thought it's best to join the worst of the Clans- The Pitt, maybe, to witness the gruesome, animalistic nature of the world first hand, to get used to the ruthlessness that animals are capable of displaying as a whole group. In the end, he established a compromise with himself to go right for the group that has the most neutral moral code.

It was why he picked Tanglewood. It was not only to be resting ambiguously between the line of heaven-incarnate and hell-incarnate[sup][4][/sup], but he had heard of its capabilities to bring what used to be a nature-engulfed land to that of their own, taking it all back to an inhabitable area- as inhabitable as it can be for animals that are used to being in the wild. That was the extent of the knowledge that he had taken, of course, nothing more than the basic group names, of their moral code- skimming past all the information of the culture and background of the groups. Aziraphale would love to learn those first hand[sup][5][/sup], as he always had an affinity of learning things for himself on direct experience. It was a new opportunity, after all, as he had never presented to be in a form of anything else that isn't a bipedal human being for long in his 6000 years on the universe he inhabited. Cultures and traditions wouldn't be the only thing he's learning, but also of learning to navigate on a new body.

So, once he's decided a location where he would allocate his body for this universe, Aziraphale had made a snap decision for a regular domesticated feline. He'd chosen the British Shorthair for the look of the feline he's going for, seeing as it was one of the most popular cat breeds back in London. Maybe a dog would have suited him more, really, as felines are amongst the smallest animals that he could go for, but he admired the no-nonsense attitude that he sees from cats, choosing to act like mortal gods on earth for such an incredibly short lifespan, especially towards humans, and don't seem to even give much him any acknowledgment that he was a rather higher being than them, as the cats he encountered to remain on the pedestal they believed to inhabit, begging for pets and treats whenever their can towards the humans they consider as their "pets".

And thus, he started shifting to his desired form, the anatomy, the appearance of the white fur, making his body as perfect as a vessel that it could be for a being such as him. He included a beige bow collar around his neck though, as a reminder that in this body, he still could keep himself clean[sup][6][/sup]. Finally, after the formation of his body, he couldn't help but smile, feel his ears twitch in the excitement at all the new sensations around him! As principality, he didn't get to shift into animals as often as he'd like, unlike Crowley, who had a fondness of shifting to a small snake that slithered around in Aziraphale's bookshop[sup][8][/sup], so the ability to be in a four-legged mammal- it was a very new sensation indeed.

Aziraphale took time to get acclimated to his senses, of not having fingers and hands to grip but rather four legs to walk, to maneuver with them and test out the basics of walking forward, backward, left right. To his mild surprise, he got the hang of it within moments, understanding the basics of this body, which includes its limitations. He was finally ready to walk in there, join Tanglewood and-

Mud. Oh no. It was another factor he'd forgotten. He'd forgotten how easy it is to dirty his appearance in this area- which appeared to be the forest, as one of his paws directly stepped on a small puddle of it. He grimaced, his ears folding on his cranium as his tail fluffed out, alarmed at this fact, as he withdrew his paw, horrified at his white fur stained with something that would have to be washed[sup][9][/sup]. Oh well- he knows he's pretty near Tanglewood's base of operations, so perhaps he could wait by the border, for someone to welcome him in? That is the better option- as he would rather not like to have his pure white coat ruined even more over the unfamiliarity of his surroundings. The inhabitants could also direct him to a body of water where he could easily wash up his dirtied paw.

While he could have easily sat down, waited for group members to come to greet him as any normal feline would probably do, Aziraphale still stood on all fours, as he was not comfortable with the prospect of sitting down and having more dirt than necessary, especially as he was holding up one mud-covered paw, looking very distressed and very uncomfortable all too easily. He chose to frantically look around his surroundings, of the forest with its lush green landscapes and diverse trees and plants, before calling out, feeling skittish and nervous at the thought of getting even dirtier.

[glow=black,1,400]"Hello? Is there anyone here- someone preferably from, uhm-"[/glow] he paused, as if in thought, aware of the fact that a loner cat like him couldn't possibly know Tanglewood by name immediately- and he wanted to act as normal as a mortal being is in this world. [glow=black,1,400]"Tangle- Tanglewood, right? That's the correct name for your group?"[/glow]

---

[sup][1][/sup]Aziraphale is aware that he most definitely wasn't the picture-perfect angel that Upstairs expected him to be, and that was perfectly fine, as Crowley was the same. He wasn't what a demon should be, and therefore brought down the expectations that Downstairs thought of him. They were together on their own side now, after all.
[sup][2][/sup]Which, long story made short, didn't happen according to the 6000-year plan. It's a wonder how things could still get postponed even when it was very close to happening.
[sup][3][/sup]He doesn't take much offense to that, especially as mortals consider him as such an entity for having some inexplicable aspects to his being, such as his inability to really age, but he prefers the term "ethereal".
[sup][4][/sup]Tanglewood may be a war bound group, but Aziraphale could see Heaven's own approval in fighting back against what they deemed wrong, as Heaven was, as a matter of fact, not as kind as it was always depicted to be- especially after they had tried to do some deeds against him that goes against all the mercy act.
[sup][5][/sup]He should have used to the term "paw", but maybe he is excused in this case of being in a new body, seeing as he is more acclimated to his larger, bipedal form that he has loved enough to keep for the 6000 years he was on earth.
[sup][6][/sup]One of the many things that he appreciated in human culture was of the development of appropriate fashion throughout the years. unfortunately, most animals fare well without clothes, due to the fur all around their body, or the fact that clothes would be more of a hindrance to survival. Still, he supposed, that didn't stop humans in engaging in dangerous fashion trends.[sup][7][/sup]
[sup][7][/sup]The ever so continuous trend of footbinding in China that lasted for almost 500 hundred years, alongside the disastrous flammable crinolines in the mid to late 1800's all comes to Aziraphale's mind on the subject of dangerous fashion trends.
[sup][8][/sup]He had teased Crowley for being the literal resident "bookworm" the few times Aziraphale caught him lurking in his bookshop. The thought of it was still as amusing as it was when he'd first thought of it. It's only too bad Crowley wasn't anywhere nearby so he could invoke such a clever, cheeky tease again.
[sup][9][/sup]It may seem like an overreaction on Aziraphale's part, but as he had once been able to keep a suit clean for more than a hundred years, Aziraphale was very much understandably mortified that he got himself dirty in the mere matter of seconds in this new form.
[glow=black,1,400]
// hi there peeps! Just gonna say you guys have no obligation to reply to the length of this monster, as muse just flowed through me for this character. thanks ;w;
[/glow]

[beatae]

// welcome to tanglewood! ^^ mikolaj is always up for plotting if youre interested

mikolaj's own experience with his immortality may seem juvenile compared to aziraphale's. the angel had been made upon the creation of life, where the shepherd was only nearing his first century on earth. he had exceeded his original mortal life expectancy by seven times now. it was odd to think of his life that way, but sometimes mikolaj couldn't help but think how life would have been if he had simply... gotten old. if he had survived through the war with his partner and returned home with him. what would have happened if he was able to stay in poland and live life as he had before.

living through four generations didn't seem entirely like too much to someone who had become eternal. as far as mikolaj knew, there weren't any other's in tanglewood that had the gift of immortality. did the ghost boy, beck, count? he was just a poltergeist. dead and unable to move into the next plane. did he count as still partially living since he was capable of forming a physical state?

the concept surrounding the topic was a whirlwind of confusion and frustration that mikolaj typically avoided. he had made the decision to use his time today to walk and think to himself. his hunger pangs were beginning to return. at night they would come like clockwork on the hour. this war was helping very little. the tension... the blood... he had half a mind to finish off stryker while at the border just because he could, but the interference of political motives had prevented him. crow had to use them for something in this war they had.

a presence had made the fur along his spine rise. a similar reaction to when he had seen and smelled beck's blood. mikolaj's head lifted slightly, trying to catch scent of the poltergeist but detected nothing. a grumbled scoff, mikolaj began to follow the presence. it was like a link coming from his chest leading him to it. most paranormal or unearthly things triggered the reaction, but he had only felt it a handful of times. it grew to a dull ache as he came closer. he was a mere couple meters away when the angel called out for someone. he quietly emerged from the muck and filth, shaking off whatever clung to his paws before looking to the white feline.

"you call." he huffed, eyeing the bowtie the other fashioned. a short, amused exhale escaped his nose. must be some show cat.

"SPEECH"

♡♡♡
tags

[beck.]

[align=center]

    For five centuries, the boy pondered the question posed by the old war hound. Did he count as immortal if he could never truly cease existence? No, immortals never brushed with death at all, while he could still remember the reaper's cold touch closing his eyelids as the last of his blood drained. Then he must be mortal then -- except he lacked the telltale pulse of life or even a rosy flush to his skin. Beck long since settled on the fact that he was nothing. Nothing more than a projection of the past, a stubborn memory of cruelty that was cursed to roam without a purpose until the universe's end. When the world did collapse, would he still be here? Would his family still be waiting for him? Did they forget about him?

    A saddened sigh slipping from his own lungs served as his only answer. Why did he always have to depress himself whenever he went on walks with Audrey? The aforementioned flytrap's bucket handle dangled from his neck, the weight of the carnivorous plant worsening his slouch as he limped through the swamp. Too lost in his hazy thoughts, Beck neglected to notice whenever he waded through its murky waters or briar thickets. Audrey III certainly seemed to mind, its vines coiling around the disheveled feline's neck as it opened and closed its toothy trap in disgust. Despite Audrey's attempts at strangulation, his glazed eyes only lifted from the ground when he heard a voice. Not the voice he was so accustomed to, but rather a kinder, nervous voice from the outside. He stopped in his meandering tracks, inclining his head to stare in the direction of the call.

    He took his time approaching, stepping over stones and fallen branches in silence, despite the occasional rattle from Audrey's makeshift pot. Preferring to observe first, the little ghost crouched in the undergrowth, lifeless gaze locking onto the stranger. What a peculiar creature the other feline appeared to be; a fraud, just like him. After Mikolaj uttered the brief formality, a nasty grin parted his lips. Audrey didn't have time to brace itself in its bucket as Beck lurched from the brush, slamming both his paws into the mud with a shrill giggle, aiming to produce a mud splash monstrous enough to coat Aziraphale's entire side with Tanglewood's infamous sludge. A proper welcome to the infernal marshlands in his honest opinion.

[aziraphale.]

[glow=#000,1,400]I'M AN ANGEL WITH A SHOTGUN, SHOTGUN, SHOTGUN.... — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Now, Aziraphale himself isn't too familiar with other beings that may have the same immortal state that he bore- but he knew that they existed. He can sense them, whether the being in question may be descending from the Heavens by scent and by his clairvoyance[sup][1][/sup], or ascending from the depths of Hell[sup][2][/sup]. So, the moment his gaze landed right on the canine, a large thing with charcoal coated fur and a rather unusual pair of eyes, his shoulders untensed, as if the presence of someone that he knew came from Tanglewood was a very welcome presence indeed.

[glow=black,1,400]"Ah, thank goodness- just in the nick of time actually!"[/glow] Aziraphale beamed at the canine, bowed in greeting[sup][3][/sup] [glow=black,1,400]"But how can I forget my manners? My name is Aziraphale, and having heard of your open doors in regards to joiners, I thought it best to approach Tanglewood for that kind of inquiry,"[/glow] he explained truthfully and used his true name as an introduction. Aziraphale sees no harm in not using any sort of aliases here, and speaking of the truth was often the best way to gain someone's trust no matter whatever Being they may be. This doesn't mean that Aziraphale would be ready to tell them all that he is a true angel of God that had been guarding the Eastern gate of Eden, no. He doesn't feel like that sort of truth would be something wise to share at his very introduction, especially not without Crowley.

It was then that he remembered that oh, he got his white fur dirty. Again, he looked around desperately, before looking directly at Mikolaj [glow=black,1,400]"I almost forgot to ask as well, as to where the nearest body of water is? I'd be eternally grateful as- oH MY GOODNESS-"[/glow] he'd exclaimed as he saw a feline launch itself out of nowhere, down to the puddle of mud, which Aziraphale couldn't dodge quick enough as his entire side got covered in such dirty earthly matter that would stain his white fur for the rest of the possible tour.

[glow=black,1,400]"For Heaven's sake, I haven't even been here for more than ten minutes, and I've already stained this- this appearance!"[/glow] Aziraphale then glared at the culprit, disdain in his eyes, alongside that sidelined annoyance [glow=black,1,400]"I'll have you know that I kept myself clean for over a hundred years before, and I thought it would have been nice to keep it clean, but you had to make it even worse."[/glow] Aziraphale sniffed, very much antsy to get clean, and cringing at the feel of the muck and dirt and everything that was oozing on what was supposed to be clean, neat fur. Maybe he should have waited for Crowley to come before he decided on which clan to reside on for the time being. Crowley would have been the one to clean him out of this mess, after all[sup][4][/sup]. If Aziraphale wasn't so distressed over his current appearance, maybe he would have noticed that Beck wasn't your regular mortal being. Unfortunately, Aziraphale takes his appearance and how he presents himself a tad bit too seriously, so such frivolous thoughts as that were put at the back of his mind for the meanwhile.

---

[sup]1[/sup]Angels are naturally given the power to sense the auras of others, so he could properly see the auras of all beings around him from a simple glance. Quite a useful thing to have, really.
[sup]2[/sup]Crowley's tendency to pop up to wherever Aziraphale was has given Aziraphale the knowledge to know whenever a demon was nearby and actually was able to tell Crowley apart from the other demons. Peculiar thing, but it was probably just him getting used to Crowley nearby. Totally not about him being too close to a demon. Not at all.
[sup]3[/sup]He was once told that his mannerisms still came from the Victorian era and that he was too behind on his time. Aziraphale hadn't minded in one bit, as the Victorian era still continues to be his most favorite period to relish in. He learned the gavotte and had joined the discreet Gentlemen's Club in that time period, after all.
[sup]4[/sup]Crowley was just nice like that, no matter how the demon tries to deny it. He'd seen how good he can do, and Aziraphale was very much proud to call him a friend, especially now that they were on their own side, against Heaven and Hell. Now, it would be nice to have him hanging around, but he doesn't seem to be anywhere nearby him, after all. Perhaps he's chosen to join another clan...?


[glow=black,1,400]text

[/glow]

[toboggan]

Immortality is a curse - the polar opposite of any blessing. Life was meant to be concluded by the release of death. Removing expiration from that cycle also removed a primary element of existence itself. Assuming one had an indefinite life expectancy, they could no longer be classified as a living being, but as a constant. Wounds meant little to nothing, as wounds healed with time. Aging was but a hypothetical occurrence, since time itself would have become totally irrelevant. All these little aspects of life out of one’s grasp, all the while being forced to sit back and observe others experience the pleasantries and troubles brought by life. If that wasn’t a curse, then the mortal couldn’t discern what was.

As the years passed, higher and higher numbers of desperate individuals gave as much as their soul could allow in the hopes of acquiring eternal life. Wasting their days away, blindly searching for an impossible reward for their strife. It was disheartening, but he cared very little for morons who chose to be morons. Chasing after the endowment of prolonged life was nothing short of a fool’s errand; To pursue immortality is to court with calamity.

The guardsman wished not for immortality, though fully aware his days were now numbered. In fact, he found a strange peace in knowing that death may be just around the corner. Made it easier to sleep at night, actually. Quite easier.

-

Leroy’s unkempt muzzle drew a rather audible yawn, the stale taste of last night’s dinner still lingering in the rear areas of his throat. His eyes hung heavily, amber slits barely providing him with enough eyesight to get by. The oversized canine would have resumed his slumber, if it were not for the disturbance off in the distance in the form of a faint splash! The sound wasn’t very loud, yet it was enough to push away sleep’s grasp. Enough to compel the drowsy being onto all fours. Enough to draw him towards the source of the perturbation.

By the time he had arrived, he was just in time to hear Aziraphale’s response to the Tanglers whom were already present.

Aziraphale. Nice name. Sounds Italian.

Initially, the most attention-grabbing characteristic of the stranger was his dapper tie. It took serious balls to waltz into Tanglewood with a sense of fashion, such a thing was unheard of around these parts. Yet, the more he scrutinized the individual, and his mannerisms, the more chary Leroy became. The feline seemed... odd. How he spoke was quite out of place - one as civilized as he didn’t accidentally stumble upon a radioactive swamp. It wasn’t any reason to be suspicious, though he’d keep it in mind for later.

Judging by the stranger’s whines, he had just become the latest victim of Beck’s mischief.

"Calm down, pal, 's just a bit of mud," he rang reassuringly, casually sauntering into the scene, "besides, you’ll probably get a lot dirtier than that if you plan on stayin’ in our swamp." Appearance wouldn’t be the only regard that’ll get a little dirtied up - within a month tops, Aziraphale’s clean tongue wouldn’t be as spotless as it is now. He could bet on that.

"Our doors’re always open to outsiders, you’ll find," he promptly continued, ere inaudibly murmuring "even the murderous bastard type...". Once more, his yellow peepers scanned the foreigner’s small figure, attempting to identify any details about the male he had missed.

Traces of a smirk materialized in the corners of his mouth. "I’m sure you’ll make yourself at home in no time, pal, but I must ask - are you sure this’s the right place for you?" Following his question, Leroy tossed his eyes in the surrounding directions, aiming to point out the setting’s unfortunate appearance. If necessary, he could always provide Aziraphale with directions to Elysium, instead.