"Has it? What a pity." The mock Aziraphale seems unaware of the events outside of Crowley's dreams, which only makes sense, really. The question about whether or not the real Aziraphale should be taking his place in the royal box earns a more startled reaction. "Oh dear. Do you know, I'm really not sure? This hasn't exactly happened before. You being here, I mean; things often don't go as he plans them, even here. Especially here. And we're already in more than once place, at least symbolically..."
He gestures back towards the field, where a horse and rider have appeared. The knight's helmet is down, so no visible features present themselves, but his armour is recognizable enough. He shines in silver and white--the same white fur cloak that the dream-Aziraphale wears, Crowley's mind is definitely copying details--as he sits astride a magnificent white horse, the very picture of chivalry and virtue and all the qualities knights of Camelot are supposed to embody. His shield bears a pair of wings and a halo as its heraldic insignia, all in silver. Aziraphale's companion sighs with a little envy. "He doesn't let me--us--dress up too much, you understand," he says quietly. "I think he feels a bit guilty about having us here. And I can't say I'd really be keen to wear all that armour again, and this dress is perfectly lovely. But it's quite the romantic picture, don't you think?"
"Sir Aziraphale of the Round, peerless knight, wishes to know if any others have the courage and wit to face him!" someone announces. "If there be any who so dare, let them stand forth and--"
"I so dare!"
The voice crashes over the proceedings like the crack of doom, and a shadow covers all, as though a cloud has passed over the sun. A tremendous roar bellows from a forest to the east.
Dream Crowley brightens and smiles. "Ah," he says happily. "Here he comes now."
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timeasmymeasure
I only know how I want to do the beginning/end of this tbh, there's room for improv
Date: 2022-08-07 10:25 pm (UTC)He gestures back towards the field, where a horse and rider have appeared. The knight's helmet is down, so no visible features present themselves, but his armour is recognizable enough. He shines in silver and white--the same white fur cloak that the dream-Aziraphale wears, Crowley's mind is definitely copying details--as he sits astride a magnificent white horse, the very picture of chivalry and virtue and all the qualities knights of Camelot are supposed to embody. His shield bears a pair of wings and a halo as its heraldic insignia, all in silver. Aziraphale's companion sighs with a little envy. "He doesn't let me--us--dress up too much, you understand," he says quietly. "I think he feels a bit guilty about having us here. And I can't say I'd really be keen to wear all that armour again, and this dress is perfectly lovely. But it's quite the romantic picture, don't you think?"
"Sir Aziraphale of the Round, peerless knight, wishes to know if any others have the courage and wit to face him!" someone announces. "If there be any who so dare, let them stand forth and--"
"I so dare!"
The voice crashes over the proceedings like the crack of doom, and a shadow covers all, as though a cloud has passed over the sun. A tremendous roar bellows from a forest to the east.
Dream Crowley brightens and smiles. "Ah," he says happily. "Here he comes now."