#wcterwithin

Seoras has done their utmost to make the Glasgow base welcoming for the team’s new computer expert. Namely by putting together a gift basket, which they’ve left on her desk; it includes a map of the city, a can of Irn-Bru, a Nessie sticker, as well as a good raincoat. (Umbrellas, they know, are useless in this city.) They’ve stuck a bright ASK ME ABOUT MY PRONOUNS pin on their denim jacket, alongside the colourful assembly of other science-y and political pins. They got to work early, so the new arrival doesn’t show up and wonder why the base is empty (or at least, that’s what they tell themself. It’s not because they woke up and 5:30 and couldn’t get back to sleep.)

#you know Cam gets injured every time there's field work right?

“Cam...” Incredibly, between the confusion, shock, and concern for her friend, Ashley finds room to be impressed. She carefully examines the younger woman’s wrist, mindful of the agony it must be in and mentally weighs it against every textbook diagram and every vaguely humanoid alien she’s ever dealt with.

The first drop he notices falls right on the word he was reading, leaking the ink, leaving a splotch. With an annoyed huff, Aziraphale looks up, arm already raising to miracle himself a cover. But his sight of the cloudy sky is covered by a black umbrella. He looks to his left, knowing exactly who he’d see before his eyes even reached the sunglasses on the so familiar face.

“You said you couldn’t make it today,” he scowls, putting his book away.

Crowley felt guilty for having told his Angel he couldn’t come. He only told him that because of embarrassment. This day was exceedingly important and he couldn’t quite remember why. Was it the anniversary of Aziraphale getting a corporal body? Was it the birthday of Edgar Allan Poe? Was it a historical date that has slipped his mind? 

Now, admitting to either emotion would never happen. If asked he would deny it. He could never have those feelings. Demons felt neither guilt nor embarrassment. At least mot demons are like that. 

It haven't been long since Aurora had landed in London in the Victorian Times. Thanks to the vortex manipulator that she fixed to travel into time and space, she was able to land safely. Though, she did have to find some Victorian clothing that she stole to blend in. Not wanting to draw a crowd with her strange clothes.

@wcterwithin

Great. Just great.

Cold rain began to fall, striking his face hard and soaking through his clothes with an impressive speed as he walked along the alleyway. The torrential rain didn’t surprise him - they had experienced actual fish falling out of the sky in the last storm that had hit Ealing - but it didn’t help that he had ran out of the house without taking the time to grab a jacket.

It was something to do with that totem pole - it had to be! It wasn’t every day that his name made people suddenly want nothing to do with him. It had all been fine until they had said his name... Sarah Jane, Rani, Rani’s dad... His mum hadn’t even said it, just read it on an envelope. Her face when she looked at him, what she had said to him in the heat of the moment... Even that lady from the museum that housed the totem pole - her attitude flicked like a switch once she had said her name. All he had been doing was trying to figure this mess out, and then Sarah Jane had spotted him, causing a scene that led to him being thrown out of the museum. Had she called the police that had turned up at his house? It was so hard to believe, but nothing made sense now.

Pounding on the door of a nearby building - a long shot since it appeared to be abandoned, complete with outdated flyers pasted to the surface of the door - he sunk down to sit on the step on the ground, the weight of his current situation crashing into him.

He was all alone. Everyone he cared about despised him, his mum had kicked him out of their house - leaving him homeless, he couldn’t get any money from the cash machines because they were affected with whatever the heck was going on (he doubted that repeating his name over and over and over and over was in their operating manual), and as he began to softly sob, leaning against the doorway in a feeble attempt to shield himself from the seemingly never-ending, pounding rain, one thought forced itself into the forefront of his mind...