@ace-of-tales You wanted a sequel to last year's Xmas fic, with Aziraphale and Crowley hitting up Flint Lockwood's famous restaurant in Secundus -- welp, bon appetit, here's the pair enjoying a meal delivered straight from the sky! Well, Aziraphale is, anyway -- Crowley isn't so sure about all this...
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“Oh – look at that! How wonderful! Crowley, isn’t that absolutely charming?”
“Charming?” Crowley looked up at the spaghetti twirling down from the sky to Aziraphale’s plate, then down at his partner, raising an eyebrow. “Angel, it’s a health hazard waiting to happen. Which I suppose I can get behind – sort of thing my side would like – but still.”
“Hey – I can assure you that the FLDSMDFR 2.0 is as far from a hazard as you can get these days!” Flint Lockwood, the man in charge of the spaghetti tornado, declared as he fiddled with his remote. “Sam, Manny, Steve, and I have spent a looot of time calibrating and recalibrating and re-re-calibrating to make sure the machine can withstand the demands of an entire night of diner requests!”
Crowley stared at him, then at the monkey sitting on his shoulder, sucking its own fingers and staring off into space. “I’m sure Steve helped a lot,” he deadpanned. “But seriously – no food ever ends up on the floor?”
“There is – the occasional misfire,” Flint admitted, running his fingers through his hair and making it stick up at even weirder angles. “But! Any fallen food is immediately and efficiently cleaned up by the FLSCRM!”
Aziraphale, who’d been beaming as his pasta heaped itself up on its plate, blinked and looked over. “The...”
Flint proudly and dramatically pointed at an automaton standing in the corner, dressed in a simple black maid’s costume and clutching a mop as if it planned to brain someone with it. “The Flint Lockwood Super-Cleaning Robotic Maid!”
“The – mate.” Crowley rubbed his forehead. “Did anyone ever tell you that vowels exist?”
“Oh come on,” Flint whined. “It’s not that hard to pronounce.”
Crowley tipped his head forward, giving Flint a flat look over the tops of his sunglasses. “Flint. I knew someone in Hell whose name was WxrtHltl-jwlpklz. He’d say that FLDSMDFR was a little much.”
Flint pouted, folding his arms. “FLDSMDFR is not nearly as bad as that,” he retorted. “Neither is FLSCRM. You’re just being mean.”
Crowley winked a snake eye. “Demon.”
“He does have a point about the vowels,” Aziraphale said, turning thoughtful as a few meatballs rocketed into the piled pasta like like meteors, followed by a snow of Parmesan cheese. “Maybe if you replaced ‘Robotic’ with ‘Automatic?’”
Crowley smirked. “Go with FLSCAM, you mean?”
“Oh, you’re right – that wouldn’t do at all.”
“My acronyms are fine! Sam, tell them my acronyms are fine!” Flint yelled over his shoulder.
“They’re really not, honey!”
“Steve!” Steve agreed, popping his fingers out of his mouth.
Crowley snorted into his hand at Flint’s wounded look. “Look – so long as the food’s good, I can promise you that this one, at least, won’t give a fig about what you call your stuff,” he said, lightly poking Aziraphale’s arm.
“Mmm – I’m quite looking forward to digging in,” Aziraphale agreed, beaming as he picked up his fork. “And oooh, speaking of figs – I wonder if you could replicate this one recipe I last had back in Mesopotamia...”
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@ace-of-tales You asked for Aziraphale and Crowley from Good Omens visiting Secundus, as you thought Aziraphale in particular would like all the inventions there...and then I mentioned him getting a taste of the March Hare's tarts, and you were like "YES THAT." XD So here that is! Hope you like!
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“Oh, these – these are absolutely amazing! Crowley, you have to try some!”
Alice did her best to stifle a laugh as she watched one half of the newest pair at the tea table go to absolute town on the March Hare’s tarts. “I take it you’re pleased with the vittles on offer?” she commented, leaning on her elbow.
“I think it’s safe to say this is now his favorite part of our trip here,” Crowley replied, grinning at his partner over an untouched cup of tea. “Always been a bit weak for good food, haven’t you?”
Aziraphale shot him a playfully-scolding look. “It’s your fault,” he declared once his mouth was empty. “You’re the one who introduced me to it.”
“Yessss,” Crowley said, smirking back. “Best bit of temptation I ever did.”
Aziraphale chuckled. “I won’t argue with that.” He grinned over at the March Hare. “Genuinely, these are absolutely fantastic. I thought Jane Austen’s tarts were delectable, but these – ! Oh, you can simply taste the love.”
“I make every batch with as much love – and strawberries – as I can fit in them,” March said, beaming back and bouncing in his chair. “Delighted to hear they pass muster! Though not mustard. That’d be horrible.”
“It would,” Victor agreed with a little laugh.
“Oh, indeed – but instead, now you can tell everyone who comes by that your tarts are truly heavenly,” Richard added, giving March a nudge and a theatrical wink.
“Oh, I’m sure they’re much better than that,” Crowley said, picking up a tart and examining it. “You lot are a lot more – creative than Heaven or Hell. Part of the reason Aziraphale and I were so keen on sticking around on Earth – that and avoiding all the nonsense Upstairs and Down. Humans make some fascinating things, when they put their minds to it.”
“I’m a hare,” March pointed out, pulling up his ears for emphasis.
“I think he’s using ‘human’ to mean sapient creatures as a whole,” Alice said, patting his head. “After all, it doesn’t sound like they have anything like you, Dormy, or Cheshire where they come from.”
“Not that I’ve seen – our world is quite sadly lacking in intelligent animals with stupendous baking skills,” Aziraphale confirmed. “I don’t believe we have anyone quite like your ‘Touched’ either, which is a shame. Some of the inventions you have around here are fantastic – that clock tower, for instance, with the giant bird coming out of it on the hour. Most amusing!”
“Oh, Cuckoo Ben? That nearly scared the life out of me when I first heard it go off,” Victor admitted, grinning. “But it is funny, once you get used to it.”
“Me, I liked that motorized bicycle we saw the other day,” Crowley said, with a sharp-toothed grin. “The one that fellow was bragging could outrun any horse. Reminded me of the Bentley, the way he was zipping around. I could something like that while we’re in the city. Get us places a lot faster than that carriage we rented.”
“I’m – I’m rather content with the speed at which our horses move,” Aziraphale said, grinning nervously. “And that demonstration did end with the inventor going straight into a wall. I had to, ah, assist slightly in making sure he didn’t end up in the morgue.”
“I noticed – though I don’t know if you really had to,” Crowley pointed out. “Based on what we’ve heard, these folks could have just shocked him back again.” He frowned, turning his tart over in his hands. “Which – does feel like it should be causing more of a fuss on both our ends. Hell doesn’t like a sinner escaping.”
“And Heaven would be rather cross about the population going down,” Aziraphale agreed. “But I don’t know much about the local theology.”
“We’re still trying to figure that out ourselves,” Richard told them. “The recently undeceased don’t tend to remember much about their time on the other side. What little we’ve gotten out of them makes it sound like everybody gets chucked into a waiting room first.”
“Mmm – meaning the local versions of Heaven and Hell might have already compensated for our propensity for bring people back to life by not letting anyone in until they’re sure they’re dead,” Alice added.
“Maybe,” Crowley shrugged, and took an experimental bite of tart. “Not like I’m going to – oh.”
He stopped, blinking behind his sunglasses. “Oh wow,” he continued, sounding lightly stunned. “This is good.”
“What did I tell you?” Aziraphale chuckled. “Congratulations Mr. Hare – you’ve won over the agents of both Heaven and Hell with your cookery.”
“Excellent – though it does feel like those should cancel each other out,” March noted, rubbing his chin. “Guess we won’t know until I die, though! And get past the waiting room.”
“Which hopefully won’t be for a long, long time,” Alice said, patting his head. “Anyway – is there anything else you two wanted to see while you’re visiting?
“Well...” Aziraphale grinned. “I did hear something about a restaurant where the food literally rains down from the sky...”
@ace-of-tales Hope you're doing well! I remembered your request from ages ago -- another installment of the "Klaus, Leona, and company end up in Secundus" series we've been doing for a few years now, showing the Libra team battling a Blood Breed in the city and everyone being very impressed and intrigued by their battle skills. Enjoy!
Also That Is Too Much Blood For One Person
“I have to say – I really did not expect there to be so many ways to fashion weapons out of your own blood.”
“It is extremely impressive, isn’t it?” Alice said, watching as Klaus hit the “Blood Breed” – a tall, pale man sporting claws, fangs, and an expression suggesting he wished he was anywhere else right about now – with. . .well, to her it looked like an axe, but as Klaus kept smacking the Blood Breed with the bit she thought of as the “handle,” it was probably an overly-fancy blood sword instead. “They really know what they’re doing.”
“I should say – did you see the white-haired one? Zapp, I believe?” Christopher said, pointing him out as he darted away from a swipe of the Blood Breed’s claws. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone slice up a monster so quickly! And with a sword technically made out of liquid no less!”
“It looks like it crystalizes once it’s outside their bodies,” Richard said, extending his neck to get a better look at the action. “Though, in that case, you’d expect all those blades to be a lot more fragile. They seem to be able to take quite a few hits!”
“Honestly, I’m most impressed with Steven,” Victoria admitted, looking over at the Blood Breed’s minions, currently standing literally frozen in place on the sidelines. “I still don’t know how he did that, but – goodness me, he barely even blinked, and they were just completely out of the fight!”
“Leona told me that that particular party trick involves him turning drops of his own blood into little needles that burrow into his victims, allowing him to flash-freeze them,” Alice told her. “Which is – disconcerting, to say the least, so we should all be grateful he’s using it on the side of good.”
“Really,” Victor agreed, before flinching away as another gigantic spray of blood came very close to his face. It formed into a fancy wall, then slammed into the ground, just in time to halt the Blood Breed as he tried to flee. “I think we can say that for all of them, frankly.”
“Indeed – we’re very lucky that they’re all as keen on fighting and eliminating monsters as I am,” Christopher said, puffing out his chest slightly. “And that they were here for the day when this particular one showed up! I don’t know how well my own sword would have done against this beast.”
“I’m sure you would have been just fine,” Victoria said, with a loyal, loving smile.
“I just wish they’d end it already,” Emily squeaked, half-hidden behind Richard. “I do not like the size of the teeth on that creature!”
“I think they’re trying to weaken it in preparation for the final blow,” Doc assured her, as Richard put his arm around her. “What did Leona say? They need to learn the Breed’s true name before it can be sealed?”
“Yup – that’s her job, to try and learn the name from its aura with her special eyes while the others keep it busy,” Alice said, then spotted a small figure running up to the hulking Klaus. “And if I don’t miss my guess, I think she’s just figured it out. . .yup, here comes the dramatic blood again. . .”
A few more words shouted in a language none of them understood, and suddenly Klaus’s blood wrapped around the Blood Breed like mummy bandages, forcing his form into a T-shape before shrinking down and solidifying into an elaborate metal cross. Klaus picked it up, tucked it away, then turned and waved to the onlookers. “You’re all right over there?”
“Fine!” Marty yelled back. “Awesome work!”
“Quite the show!” Alice added.
“Very impressive!” Christopher agreed.
“How are you not all anemic?”
All eyes went to Richard. “Hey, it’s a fair question,” he said, shrugging. “None of the blood ever seems to go back in their bodies.”
Emily facepalmed. “Richard. . .”
“Uh – never really thought about that?” the one called Zapp said, blinking. “Until now, anyway?”
“Don’t start having existential crises now,” Alice called down. “How about some tea instead?”
“Indeed! My treat!” Richard said brightly. “I think we could all use some!”
“That’s for certain,” Klaus mumbled, then gave them a small smile. “All right then – lead the way.”
@ace-of-tales Look at me, remembering you have a tumblr now. XD Anyway, yes, as per our FF.net conversation, here’s the follow-up to the last two years of Christmas fics, with Klaus and Leo meeting the rest of Victor and Alice’s Secundus found family. . .hope you like!
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“Soooo – blood weapons?”
“Richard, darling, you could open up the conversation with something a little less personal.”
Klaus chuckled, waving a hand. “It’s all right – we explained this to Victor and Alice previously, but I’m not surprised you’re interested too.” His eyes flicked over Richard’s form. “And, if I’m honest – I was looking for a way to politely ask about the mechanical arm?”
“Arms!” Richard corrected cheerfully, pushing up his other sleeve to reveal another limb made of metal and wood. “Legs too – honestly, pretty much all of me except the head. Still an organic brain under the old chapeau.” He tapped the brim of his hat with a grin. “I’m what we call a ‘Mixed Bag’ here in the city.”
“I think ‘cyborg’ would be the term back in Hellsalem’s Lot,” Leo told him, adding milk to her tea. “It’s quite something, though. I assume you designed it all yourself?”
“Mmm – on the fly, too! Had to come up with some designs really quick because – well.” He grimaced a little. “As it turns out, I have some pretty severe reactions to mercury, which can be something of a problem in my chosen profession.”
Klause winced. “I see. . .er. . .so is that. . .”
“The reason for the green? Yup,” Richard nodded. “Never did figure out how to fix the discoloration, so I just came to embrace it.”
“And if you’re wondering about my unusual skin color – where, I have it, anyway,” Emily interrupted herself, wiggling her bony fingers, “it’s a weird side effect of Dr. Finklestein’s resurrection process. Something to do with the chemicals he use to prep the corpses.”
“I see – sorry if we were staring before,” Leo said with a faint blush.
“It’s fine – I think everyone new to the city stares for a little bit,” Marty said, offering her a plate of tarts. “Doc and I had to take some time to adjust back when we first arrived. It’s a lot to take in.”
“Indeed – there aren’t many places in England like Secundus,” Christopher agreed, swiping a tart for himself. “Such a great concentration of Touched, all living and working together in harmony, it’s – perhaps not unique, but certainly rare.”
“Maybe. . .but Hellsalem’s Lot is one of the weirdest places on Earth,” Leo responded, accepting the plate with a nod. “Thanks. . .I just feel like we should be better prepared for things being strange and unusual.”
“Mmm – as previously mentioned, I have the ability to make weapons out of my own blood, should the need arise,” Klaus said. “That should probably preclude being surprised by a largely-robotic hatter and his Reanimated wife, no matter how unusual the skin colors.”
“Perhaps, but – you came here to England to get away from your local brand of weirdness, right?” Victor said. “It’s not surprising you’d be, er, surprised by our brand. If any of us ended up in Hellsalem’s Lot, I’m sure we’d be doing a lot of staring.”
“I suppose,” Leo allowed. “Just don’t want to be rude, is all.” She picked up a tart and bit into it. “And – oooh, wow. This is incredible. Who made this?”
“Here!” March waved cheerfully from the other end of the tea table. “Glad you like – I tried a new recipe this time!”
“. . .okay, I’m allowing my staring in this instance because I’m curious as to how you didn’t get fur in them.”
