001 (Voice)

[uberboned]

[While the Winchesters are away, the Tricksters will play, apparently. THE BARGE HAS TIMING. :| Hope your ears love the sultry sound of loud-mouthed demigods/archangels with slight southern drawls, residents of the Barge, because that's what you're getting. And there is nothing in the tone of this that does not scream SNARK.]

GOOD MORNIN', VIET-NAM.

Or afternoon. Or, for all I know, half-past midnight. I don't believe in clocks. Anyway. 

Hi! I'm the newest sherrif on this Love Boat. One of you lucky sons of bitches will eventually be mine to mold into whatever amounts to a productive, functional member of society. Lucky you! For the rest of you, juuust get used to the sound of this voice, kids, 'cause you're gonna be hearing a lot of it. 

I could go on, tell you all a few things about me, and we can all have a nice, little sharing circle, buuuut I'm not that kinda guy. Sorry. A man's gotta have a little mystery about him. In this case, a lot. 

But, hey, I'm here for all you losers. That's the deal I made and I live up to my deals. Think of me as your own personal pagan deity. So if you really need and/or want me, look me up sometime. It's Trickster, comma, the. Thank you and good night. 

Comments

[tartaned.livejournal.com]

...I feel oddly as if I should know you.

[painhumbles.livejournal.com]

[See Gabe. See Gabe be evasive. EVADE, GABE. EVADE.]

I've got one of those voices.

[tartaned.livejournal.com]

Yes, well... welcome, nonetheless. You evidently know how to make an entrance.

I'm Aziraphale.


[Private]

Is there some reason you don't want it known that you're an angel? It is you, isn't it? I felt someone arrive, but it's hard to be precise on this contraption.

[painhumbles.livejournal.com]

It's a gift.

[LONG. FUCKING. PAUSE. The "oh shitfuckbears" gears, they are a-turning.]

[Private.]

Oh, you're good.

I'm in my own personal witness protection. It's habit by now. Plus, people expect a heckuva lot less out of you when they don't think you're an archangel.

[Private]

[tartaned.livejournal.com]

Oh dear, you're from that world Castiel and the Winchesters are from, aren't you? I can see why you'd have to take precautions.

I do assure you that it's quite safe here, give or take a -- wait, archangel? I haven't seen one of you on Earth since the time they thought the Apocalypse was happening. Goodness. I'm just a Principality.

[Private]

[painhumbles.livejournal.com]

Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Back up a second, big guy. Castiel and the Hardy boys are here. [This is said more off to the side than actually directly at the recorder, but still loud enough to make out.] Son of a bitch. They're like self-righteous stalkers.

[And now we're back.]

They make jokes about that, you know? And the Apocalypse is happening where I'm from, but I got sick of things about the time Lucy and Mike decided they weren't besties anymore and went into hiding.

Name's Gabriel. Keep it to yourself.

[Private]

[tartaned.livejournal.com]

...You're very different than the Gabriel I report to. Pagan deity, honestly.

Castiel left only recently. And yes, you're quite the first person in this century to make a joke about Principalities, except for the part that you aren't.

Lucy and - oh, yes, very funny. Irreverence is always a hit, I'm sure. [Can you hear the dryness? It's very dry.] Though given my own experiences with your Michael I can see where you'd want to disassociate yourself from him. I don't tend to, erm, always get along particularly well with the Upstairs either...

[Private]

[painhumbles.livejournal.com]

[FEEL THE MELODRAMA, AZ. You can just imagine he's clutching his heart and flopping backwards on something like he's going to be faint.] I had a very troubled upbringing and suffered from horrible middle child syndrome. Daddy never did love me as much as he should've.

[Insert snickering here. Yes, he cracks himself up. The ham.

...Except for the part where it abruptly stops. The abrupt change in tone is kind of scary, in a way. It's all deadly seriousness now.]

They're my brothers, not my superiors, and I love them. I left because I hated watching them kill each other for no good reason. I'm here, because they're doing it again and I can't deal with it.

[Gabe has an obvious sore spot. CAN YOU TELL? :|]

[Private / Voice]

[tartaned.livejournal.com]

[Aziraphale clicks the voice on to reply, and his upper crust British accent is softened by remorse.]

Yes, I... do understand. I apologize if I've slighted you unintentionally. It's just that I was beginning to know the Winchesters quite well before, and their descriptions of your world are... horrendous, by any account.

I hope you find the Barge better suited to you, Gabriel.

Re: [Private / Voice]

[painhumbles.livejournal.com]

[AND LOOK. HE'S BACK TO SNARKY LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED. Because Gabe's emotions run hot and cold like it ain't nobody's business.]

That's one word for it. And here's hoping. Nice to meetcha, Az.

[Private / Voice]

[tartaned.livejournal.com]

[SIGH AT THE NICKNAME] Yes, of course.

I'm usually in the library if you ever need me.