[ Aziraphale could, in theory, pick up a sword. If nothing else, they're certainly in supply. What is it humans say, like riding a bicycle?
In theory.
In practice, in accordance with a repeated personal choice spanning most of the entirety of time as a concept, Aziraphale opts not to pick up a sword. Given the chaos and the crowds, he thinks he might make that choice regardless just to mitigate potential very terrible accidents. He's never been a fan of violence. Certainly not of enacting it himself.
This doesn't stop him from trying his resolute best as far as the Nightrenders are concerned. At a certain point, things turn rather as-needs-must.
Aziraphale doesn't have a fraction of the power or range of ability with it that he should, that he always has. He has almost no idea what's going on large-scale and only an understanding of the most immediate priority in circumstance on the smaller scale.
But he's always been good at compartmentalizing, at pushing things back for later. For now, he's considering it a good sign that holiness is at all effective, when it sort of matters quite a lot to be able to be effective.
Broke: attempting to hack at lurching, horrifying nightmare creatures with an aura of dread and evil with a weapon that he hasn't actually used in thousands of years.
Woke: blessing a very sturdy skillet and slamming it into a Nightrender's knee to make it lose balance so he can try to get its victim back up and running. ]
Right, there we are, up you pop-- [ The Nightrender is making some brand of horrible because of being hit with a holy cooking implement. Lame. Aziraphale shoots a sidelong glance at it that's one part reflexive "please don't interrupt me" and two parts "mostly-concealed panic," which may be more commonly known as "urgency." ]
I'm afraid I haven't bought us very much time at all.
[ (Up for memory flash swaps as desired or up for more straightforward escape stuff! It's not his natural instinct to be especially touchy, but Aziraphale is willing to help people get up or hauled off if they need the assist!) ]
c2.
[ There are multiple factors contributing to Aziraphale lingering in this general disaster area for a grip. One of them is quest bond magic teleportation going haywire and popping him around a little bit. Cool! Disorienting. He may suddenly appear in the vicinity, looking disheveled and offended. He's not sure if he's offended at himself for being teleported or offended about it in general, but he's offended.
Other factors are empathy and poor impulse control. The offense simply can't linger in the face of someone or something needing a hand. Maybe it's helping a person up, helping them hobble their way to a safer space. Maybe it's trying to very quickly untie some horses before a tent fire can spread to their tethers. Maybe it's a couple of stealth-drop minor heals trying to keep a person from bleeding to death. It could even be hitting more things with his technically-stolen skillet.
(It's a different universe entirely, isn't it? Technically, he hasn't been given be-all, end-all instructions about directly interfering with what's happening around him here.)
Truly, the world is everyone's oyster.
The point remains. Catch these anxious (helping) hands. Or direct them to somewhere that could use them. He is dumb and nice and maybe a little bit thrown by the fact that somehow this day is even weirder than the literal apocalypse he was just busy with. ]
e.
[ and wildcard! For any in-between type prompts or post-running Heartstone hangout content. Feel free to hit me at comatoseroses to hash out ideas. ]
aziraphale | open
[ Aziraphale could, in theory, pick up a sword. If nothing else, they're certainly in supply. What is it humans say, like riding a bicycle?
In theory.
In practice, in accordance with a repeated personal choice spanning most of the entirety of time as a concept, Aziraphale opts not to pick up a sword. Given the chaos and the crowds, he thinks he might make that choice regardless just to mitigate potential very terrible accidents. He's never been a fan of violence. Certainly not of enacting it himself.
This doesn't stop him from trying his resolute best as far as the Nightrenders are concerned. At a certain point, things turn rather as-needs-must.
Aziraphale doesn't have a fraction of the power or range of ability with it that he should, that he always has. He has almost no idea what's going on large-scale and only an understanding of the most immediate priority in circumstance on the smaller scale.
But he's always been good at compartmentalizing, at pushing things back for later. For now, he's considering it a good sign that holiness is at all effective, when it sort of matters quite a lot to be able to be effective.
Broke: attempting to hack at lurching, horrifying nightmare creatures with an aura of dread and evil with a weapon that he hasn't actually used in thousands of years.
Woke: blessing a very sturdy skillet and slamming it into a Nightrender's knee to make it lose balance so he can try to get its victim back up and running. ]
Right, there we are, up you pop-- [ The Nightrender is making some brand of horrible because of being hit with a holy cooking implement. Lame. Aziraphale shoots a sidelong glance at it that's one part reflexive "please don't interrupt me" and two parts "mostly-concealed panic," which may be more commonly known as "urgency." ]
I'm afraid I haven't bought us very much time at all.
[ (Up for memory flash swaps as desired or up for more straightforward escape stuff! It's not his natural instinct to be especially touchy, but Aziraphale is willing to help people get up or hauled off if they need the assist!) ]
c2.
[ There are multiple factors contributing to Aziraphale lingering in this general disaster area for a grip. One of them is quest bond magic teleportation going haywire and popping him around a little bit. Cool! Disorienting. He may suddenly appear in the vicinity, looking disheveled and offended. He's not sure if he's offended at himself for being teleported or offended about it in general, but he's offended.
Other factors are empathy and poor impulse control. The offense simply can't linger in the face of someone or something needing a hand. Maybe it's helping a person up, helping them hobble their way to a safer space. Maybe it's trying to very quickly untie some horses before a tent fire can spread to their tethers. Maybe it's a couple of stealth-drop minor heals trying to keep a person from bleeding to death. It could even be hitting more things with his technically-stolen skillet.
(It's a different universe entirely, isn't it? Technically, he hasn't been given be-all, end-all instructions about directly interfering with what's happening around him here.)
Truly, the world is everyone's oyster.
The point remains. Catch these anxious (helping) hands. Or direct them to somewhere that could use them. He is dumb and nice and maybe a little bit thrown by the fact that somehow this day is even weirder than the literal apocalypse he was just busy with. ]
e.
[ and wildcard! For any in-between type prompts or post-running Heartstone hangout content. Feel free to hit me at