Open catch-all

[salutosinedelectat]

Who: Aziraphale and literally anyone
Where: Several places, listed in prompts
When: Kazoo 1 - 5
What: Free food! Gross rotten eggs! Books! Music! A bunch of low-key shenanigans before the train makes another stop.
Warnings: Hope you like rotten wobbledog eggs. He sure doesn't.




I. Kitchen/dining coach (Kazoo 1, after the train leaves the station)
Another day, another new batch of passengers. The angel does step out of the train for a short while, as usual, stretching his legs and taking in the moderately fresh air of a crowded, stuffy train station. Long enough to observe the now familiar waves of confusion and panic from the majority of the newcomers, and the eerie, stoic, unstoppable silence of those that depart the station. The usual.

Shortly before the train departs, he steps back inside and meanders his way to the kitchen, one of his more common spots. Giving the new recipe list a once-over, he figures he could pass the time with some baking. He does feel a tad peckish, and something chocolaty should fix that right up.

As he goes about his baking endeavors - never mind the one or two ingredients that certainly aren't listed on this month's list -, he considers the fact that others might find comfort in some treats themselves, specially those who find themselves in an entirely new setting.


Cut to a few hours later, with the smell of fresh baked good permeating not just the kitchen coach, but also the dining room, where any passenger can find an assortment of artfully displayed baked goods left out for anyone who wishes to partake in them. If they arrive at the right time, they might even find the angel placing a neatly written and rather polite note on the table, encouraging anyone to feel free to enjoy the cakes and tea at their leasure.



II.Cinema/greenhouse (featuring Ferdinand the wobbledog)
"Oh, you--dastardly little creature. You should know by now that the cinema room is no place for your--your- putrid leavings."

Anyone unfortunate enough to make their way into or through the cinema car at the right time, will find their nose assaulted by the smell of very, very rotten eggs. If they don't immediately vacate the coach in an attempt to get away from it, they might trace the smell to whatever the angel is holding inside a rather thick handkerchief, which he's careful to only hang from the tip of his fingers and at a full arm's length. And following right behind him is the small shambling technicolor odddity that is what no one knows to call a wobbledog.

"Honestly, I don't understand how you keep slipping your way in here. Aren't you much happier in the garden? Certainly would be doing us all a favor and sparing us from-- this."

Aziraphale steps out into the greenhouse car, Ferdinand right at his heels, tongue eternally hanging out of his mouth in a clueless, dimwitted panting.

The angel scoffs, looking around for some closer spot to dispose of the terrible findings. For a moment, he considers burying it in one of the plots, but fears he might invoke the wrath of a certain demon if he dared to do so.


III. Library
A lot of his time is spent on the top floor of the library, nowadays. While it doesn't offer as much privacy as a quiet room, the room, as small as it might be, does offer the sort of reverence one would get from some of the old libraries in the major cities, and he at least likes to indulge in such aesthetics.

He still hasn't quite forgiven the fact that it appeared so empty when it first came into reality, the cruel joke of a shell of a library and the difficulty in filling it with the sort of tome that would deserve to be in such a place. That being said, he's been considering ways to begin fixing such an issue, and ways to encourage other passengers in helping along with such a task, without imposing on those that seek refuge in such a room.

That being said, he can be found by one of the tables, looking over a collection of closed journals placed in neat piles ontop of it. Right beside them, a small collection of pens.

He seems to be lost in thought, his own pen tapping idly against his chin.


IV. Wildcard/make your own prompt
For all intents and purposes, Aziraphale really isn't entirely difficult to track down - although part of it might have to do with the limited space on the train itself. Not every space is really amenable to his tastes, but whatever time is spent out of the quiet cars is often spent on the top floor of the library, or in the kitchen.

However, he can also be spotted walking along the statue garden and the greenhouse, often accompanied by one specific red-headed, clad-in-black, sunglass-wearing figure, or, when alone, taking his time to look at the same statues and plants he's seen hundreds of times by now. Every so often, in the greenhouse, he can be seen looking right out into the waving mess of colors that is the Void - but not for very long, as he does feel a distinct feeling of nausea and discomfort when he does so.

He's quite approachable, all things considered, with the gently scholarly air he has about him. Or, for those with the abilities to do so, the blatant angelic aura about him can either be just as welcoming, or entirely off-putting. Either way, he's very given to his manners.


--

Closed, for Soldat [Backdated several weeks ago, mid Jelly]
It's late in the morning when Aziraphale finds himself walking through the train with the intention of making himself some brunch. As the majority of the passengers seem to be going about their day already, he can't help but to wonder just how many more the train can pick up before they all find themselves truly out of space for moderately comfortable living. Yes, it's true that new cars seem to pop into existence every once in a while, and they seem to at least be given some choice in thematics and such, but living in an interdimensional locomotive isn't really all that it's cracked up to be.

Still, not much to do besides making sure to keep enough of a polite distance to not bump into any matter of people or even creatures on the corridors and aisles, "excuse me"s and "pardon me"s at the ready.

He's still lost in those thoughts and any matter of related topics as he begins to make some tea, and considers making himself some crumpets to go along with.

Comments

iii

[irrationally]

"What are you thinking about?"

.. Okay, maybe she ought to have started with some sort of greeting. But while Alice isn't totally tactless, years of isolation away from most other humans sure haven't done any wonders for her manners - or made her less direct in any way, hence why she's just immediately cutting to the chase after walking over to the other.

Besides, how is she supposed to help it? She couldn't help but notice Aziraphale looking so deep in thought here in the library, of course she wants to know what he's thinking about. It's just how Alice's natural curiosity works.

Re: iii

[salutosinedelectat]

Aziraphale breaks out from wherever he was stuck in the recesses of his mind, perking up slightly when he faces the girl. "Oh, Alice. Hello." As he offers her the usual polite smile.

He takes another glance at the table in front of him, taking off the small (and utterly pointless) spectacles that rested on his nose and letting them hand from the chain around his neck.

" I'm afraid I lost track of time, thinking about a little project I'm attempting to begin." Clearly referring to the journals, which, at a glance, seem to be pristine and untouched, entirely new.

[irrationally]

Alice's gaze drops at the journals for a moment, before said gaze slowly trails back up to Aziraphale's face. The look on the girl's face suggests that she's very much still thinking.

"A little project?" She echoes back at him, giving her brain another moment to try and wrap itself around this.

.. well, there's only so much one could do with journals, right? So Alice just ventures a guess.

"Are you going to write books?" There's a hint to her voice that indicates that idea is actually kind of interesting to her. Like her tone perks up just a little bit, compared to how flat or unimpressed it can be at times.

[salutosinedelectat]

"Well, in a way." He sets down his pen and takes one of the journals, flipping through the blank pages.

"I'm sure you've noticed how dreadfully empty this section of the library is. I found it rather disappointing, when it first appeared. Why, why would would the train simply give us the shell of a library, with no content?"

He goes around the table and sets the journal down in front of the seat, and a pen right next to it.

"Well, a while back, myself and one Mr. Wang Ji - you may have met him, lovely chap - came up with the idea of encouraging passengers to tell their own tales and sharing them with the rest of us."

[irrationally]

The name doesn't seem to bring any recognition to her face, but it's fine. Alice knows that's not the main point of what he's telling her anyway.

"Their own tales.. You mean about their lives?" Since he could also just mean tales from their worlds, but it's the 'their own' part that Alice's mind lingers on for a moment. "In that case, surely your tale would be one of the more interesting ones."

After all, if he's an angel.. He must have existed for such a long time, and seen so much. Alice doubts anything about her would be as interesting. It'd just involve a whole lot of fighting.

II

[firewalled]

"...Do I want to know what that is?"

Rich had just wanted to see what kind of movies he could end up finding in this car. He had not expected him to find a scene out of a movie. Particularly something sci-fi, considering the thing that looks sort of like a dog, and the putrid smell it's left behind.

"I'm pretty sure even my neighbour's great dane doesn't take dumps that bad... What kind of, uh, breed is that?"

Re: II

[salutosinedelectat]

Aziraphale stops, nearly wincing with the realization that he's been spotted carrying some rancid leavings, and trying to not succumb to the sheer mortifying embarrassment of the whole scenes. He's already annoyed as it is.

"It--oh, I'm not quite sure. I'm not sure it even is a dog."

Ferdinand stares up at them both, with a myriad of eyes that not all face the same direction, large flat tail wagging idly at the sight of this new person.

[firewalled]

To be fair, Rich isn't all that bothered by it. Sure, it smells bad, but it's not the owners fault for what their pet has to do. He just shrugs, and then knees down to hesitantly offer a hand for the creature to sniff.

"Well, at least it's tail is wagging, so that means it's probably friendly! Hey, little buddy..."

Rich has been finding out a lot about himself since being in control of his own head again, and turns out one thing is that he just. Really likes animals. Apparently even weird ones like this.

"Where'd you find the little guy?"

[salutosinedelectat]

The little technicolor mess immediately hones in on the friendly greeting, shambling its way over to sniff his hand.

"Oh, yes, it's quite harmless." Although a certain demon would certainly say that it harbors ill intention, certainly towards him, and knowingly tests his patience. But Aziraphale, on the other hand, doubts that the creature is even capable of thought that complex.

"It showed up where I was staying before we ended up on this train. Not quite sure why it came with us, but it did."

i

[saveas]

[Asriel, since the train took off, has been very much keeping to himself. It hasn't been all that long, so it's been easy to tuck himself away in his bed or in one of the gardens. But if anything was gonna draw him out of his self-imposed hiding, it's this. It's been so long since he really bothered with eating; he hadn't needed to, as a flower, and eventually it had just started to seem...well, boring. He'd had all the meals he could have already.

Now, though? His stomach is kinda grumbling, and whatever that is smells really good.

The little monster creeps his way on down to the kitchen. He's no longer covering his head or hands, since apparently people here are kinda okay with monsters, but he's still sort of wary. Arriving, his eyes light up at the array of pastries and he goes to reach up to grab one. And then sees the guy there.]

Oh. Um.

[He freezes. Even though they're set out and everything, he's struck with a sudden feeling like he's stealing.]

baby baby baby

[salutosinedelectat]

[ Aziraphale, sleeves rolled up and donning a nice little apron, is working on taking out another tray from one of the ovens, taking a moment to take a nice whiff of the arm, sweet scent of the freshly baked croissants.

It's only when he turns around to put it on the counter that he takes notice of the young monster. ]

Oh! Hello.

[ He addresses him with a polite tone, carefully setting the tray down on what little space is left on the counter.

He looks over at Asriel again, considering him for a moment.]

Oh, feel free to take one. They should still be warm. The ones on the left are chocolate, if that's more your taste.

[saveas]

...okay. Thanks.

[Asriel grabs the one he'd been going for anyway; chocolate was more Chara's thing. It just makes him think of them anymore.

Once it's in his paws, he goes in to take a bite, and then hesitates.]

This is human food, right?

[salutosinedelectat]

[ He pauses in the middle of retrieving a plate to place the croissants on. ]

Ah, well, it is a human recipe.

[ This little one - sounds like a child, from what Aziraphale can gather - looks farther from human than most other passengers, so he figures it makes sense that he'd ask such a thing. ]

Feel free to try anything you like.

[worthallthis]

Soldat has seen Aziraphale around, but they haven't been... ready exactly. And Crowley hasn't pushed. So they lingered, watched a little bit, and made biscuits. A kind their Aziraphale taught them how to make.

It seems like a pretty perfect opportunity when Aziraphale actually comes into the kitchen car to make tea, when they've got the biscuits ready and they're feeling relatively steady. They retrieve the plate from a more distant counter, steel themselves, and come over. "Hi."

Well, that's a start. They offer the plate. "I'm Soldat. I. Um." I knew another you in a world of darkness, after you died. Yeah, no. "I'm a friend of Crowley's."

[salutosinedelectat]

Aziraphale had heard about Soldat. Crowley had mentioned them in conversation, what with the whole ordeal of them knowing a different version of the two ethereal creatures. It wasn't the first time they've gotten to hear about alternate versions of themselves - and Aziraphale vaguely wondered if the ones they'd heard about on the island and the ones mentioned by the newcomer were the same, or separate realities entirely -, but he hadn't exactly sought them out to ask.

So when he enters the kitchen and is first approached, he isn't quite sure why, giving them a curious, confused look. As they struggle to introduce themselves, realization takes over his expression.

"--oh. Oh, right, yes, I--pardon me, yes. Crowley has told me about you."

[worthallthis]

Oh, good, that makes this easier. Crowley surely mentioned the whole different universe versions thing, didn't he? They twitch the plate a little more in his direction, to make sure he saw it. "I just wanted to introduce myself. I don't have to bother you if you'd rather I not. But he seems to like me well enough." Enough to get past the different universe versions thing, at least. And they're stupidly fond of Crowley, themselves-- plus, small train-- so it's likely they'll at least see each other in passing.

[salutosinedelectat]

Aziraphale takes note of the plate, and the delightful looking biscuits. He politely picks one and gives them a smile, although still slightly bogged down by the awkwardness of the situation. But, no matter - it's happened before, although he hadn't gotten the impression that anyone who'd mentioned it to them before had been quite so close with other them as Soldat implies to have been.

Still, manners are manners - and Aziraphale prides himself on maintaining his no matter the situation.

"Oh, that's quite alright. I'm sure this is as strange to you as it might be to us." Even being an ancient immortal creature of knowledge far beyond those of humans can't escape the strangeness of this whole...thing.

"You've just arrived recently, if I'm not mistaken?"

I, in which Zagreus eats everything terribly wrong

[dyingpro]

It's not hard to spot the gentleman currently raiding the baked goods table, having taken a plate from one of the kitchens and piled at least one of each baked good on top of it. (The smaller ones, like the tarts, have three or four piled in neat little pyramids under the muffins and iced buns). Just as Aziraphale comes out with the sign, Zagreus gives him a little wave of greeting, before stuffing a fresh scone into his mouth.

"These are delicious," he says after a moment with his mouth still full, though he has the decency to hide his mouth behind his hand as he continues to chew, and finally swallows. "Did you make them all yourself?"

His voice sounds oddly familiar.

[salutosinedelectat]

Aziraphale pauses for only a moment when the young man speaks to him, but only because he's quite sure he's heard that voice before, and not that long ago. Things get a little hazy when you're in different sides of the veil, so he isn't entirely sure that he is who Aziraphale thinks he is.

The angel offers him a polite smile all the same. "Indeed I have. They turned out well, I take it?" He says with an amused glance at Zagreus' plate.

[dyingpro]

Zagreus, at least, seems to recognize his voice. "Oh! You're that shade from before! Well, er, not exactly a shade, right? You said you're an angel. Not sure what that is, but it's nice to meet you while you're fully embodied!"

Aziraphale may notice two things: one, that Zagreus clearly doesn't read as something demonic exactly but clearly fits a sort of hellish aesthetic, and two, that Zagreus has just been stuffing his mouth with food without regard for how one is supposed to properly eat it. No lemon curd, jam, or heavy cream with the scones, the tarts all eaten in one big bite instead of separate littler ones, and... Aziraphale can be pretty sure there were at least a half-dozen muffins missing from when he left, but the wrappers are nowhere to be seen.

[salutosinedelectat]

"Oh!" Aziraphale perks up when he recognizes the young god (which he has yet to recognize as a god, although he's aware of his name and that there's something definitely supernatural about him), giving him a brighter smile. "Yes, indeed. I do apologize for the improper meeting, it really was a rather messy day, wasn't it? I never did catch your name."

He does notice that Zagreus has fully invested in consuming the majority of the bakex goods the angel has put out so far. Not an issue, he can simply miracle himself more ingredients to make more of them (why he doesn't simply miracle the pastries into being is anyone's guess, but, if asked, he would say he quite enjoys the process of baking, and miracled food and drink just really doesn't taste the same, in his opinion). He vaguely looks around for the litter, to gather it and take it back into the kitchen.

III

[gundamofthedesert]

[Quatre had decided to come into the library on this day. Not that he had really felt there was much interesting there, but perhaps he was hoping that there was be something... more for once.

As he headed up to the second floor, he spotted someone else who was up there. If he would place a guess, he'd say he was trying to think of something to write judging by how he was tapping his pen]

Good afternoon.

Re: III

[salutosinedelectat]

[ Aziraphale snaps out of wherever his mind had wondered when he's addressed, standing up straight and putting his pen away. ]

Oh. Hello. [ He offers Quatre a polite smile. ]

[gundamofthedesert]

[Quatre smiled] Looks like you are putting a lot of thought into what you are writing. Something important?

[salutosinedelectat]

Ah, I'm afraid I'm not doing any writing - yet, anyway.

[ But while there's someone here, might as well:]

Say, speaking of writing, would you mind having a word? Won't take more than a minute.

[ If he keeps the rambling under wraps. He'll try.]