diatuooc | Test Drive Reloaded! #1

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Test Drive Reloaded! #1

Test Drive #1

Welcome to Diatu (I Like Swords)

The Arrival Hall is all aflurry with activity! No one had expected so many Sundered to suddenly pop up, the staff find themselves desperately scrambling to keep up with the influx, and a bunch of new arrivals find themselves hanging out in the Hall lobby, waiting to be seen, sent home if possible, or counseled and prepared for student life if not. Rumors run like wildfire: some people believe they've been kidnapped by aliens, a worryingly persistent suggestion that this is a setup for a murder-tournament keeps circulating, and one or two nutcases insist that a dragon tinkered with the rules of magic and now they have to study at a magic school to survive. Pie stocks are grievously low, and thought Headmaster Birony herself appeared and began violating the rules of space and time to summon pies from the future, a second Headmaster Birony with an eyepatch, several war scars, and a wild hairdo appeared and promptly yelled at the first Headmaster for stealing her pies. A pie fight erupted. Pie stocks are even more grievously low now.

Still, here's your chance to talk to your fellow arrivals. Or aggressively attack the nearest target in an outrage (they set up a target dummy and labeled it VENT AGGRESSION HERE, and are trusting you guys on the honor system). Staff don't have time to talk, but they promise they'll get to you soon!

A Day In The Life

The sun is bright, the air is warm, a cool breeze blows across Anastara, clouds keep drifting directly through the island and engulfing people... it's summer on Ascelion, and the day is ripe for learning. Or as ripe as Diatu Magicademy ever can be -- though no one would trade the character and charm of the lively campus for some stodgy, regimented school more interested in forcing students into the mold than encouraging them to be their best, sometimes conditions in the Magicademy are a little inconvenient.

A toilet in Kedrigan Hall keeps clamping onto the butts of those who attempt to use it. Thus far, half a dozen students have been freed from its clutches by their friends, while reports of singed buttocks have increased twofold. (Yes, only twofold. Think about that for a minute.) Staff are on the lookout for a prankster rather than a commode, so as of yet the treacherous toilet has gone unpunished...

Not far away, a group of cleaning golems has occupied the promenade as part of an ongoing strike. As they possess only rudimentary intelligence, they believe this involves seizing objects from anyone who passes nearby and hurling them at a set of bowling pins. Meliandre Tomekin, Head of Groundskeeping, has set up shop across the Promenade; any student who wanders too close gets a big block of ice shoved into their hands, along with instructions to hold it still while she shows those reprobates what-for...

In the Great Hall proper, school clubs and activities have, as was inevitable, escalated competition for new students to yet another level which only isn't a war crime because it isn't part of a treaty yet: they've conscripted geese. Horrible geese, to be precise, who dispense flyers for various clubs with less subtlety than a nuclear holocaust. Some of them fight for dominance, others have teamed up to pin down innocent students and stuff leaflets down their throat, and one has a wand and is somehow casting Discovery spells?!

A Forgery!

"I tried a mass-Forging technique," the older student says, showing off the briefcase full of identical wands and a sign that says 'FOR $ALE CHEAP'. "Some of them are exactly what I intended, they self-correct runes, but the rest, well.. . I don't know, I can't tell, and I'm not really interested in finding out one by one, so... you buying?"

All sales final. No refunds. Caveat emptor. As for what the wands do, well... there's a reason he answered with an ellipsis when asked. On the other hand, maybe the effect isn't too terrible? Maybe it's even beneficial! Maybe the wand shoots out rainbows and muffins! Or maybe it just animates and strikes you vigorously about the head and shoulders...

Three Dragon War

Someone, we're not naming names, canons, or the color of eyes and the dragon to which they belong that forms said person's obsession, may or may not be indirectly responsible for the latest game craze sweeping Anastara: Three Dragon War, a collectible card game that features players as dragons, deploying spells, creatures, and Sundered against each other to destroy each and avoid the machinations of the Third Dragon. The awesome thing about the game is that the Third Dragon comes in all different forms: classic bundled-with-the-starter-pack Ire, super-rare Anastara Diatu, suspiciously-rare Cam Birony, ultra-common Large Eagull, and more. The concept of an outside force adding randomness to the battle and being manipulated in turn by cards means Three Dragon War is the hottest card game that's come along since the last card game that was the hottest that had come along came along.

Face-to-face, you find yourself in a duel over these cards and the magical images they summon. Can this untested deck come through if you believe in it? Or are statistics and probability actual things that actually happen? Dragon Battle! Jiao Long Fu!

There's One in Every Test Drive

Not every magical disaster is caused by some wayward student you don't know. Many of them are caused by you instead. To wit: you're on the spot in one of the magical labs, being called on to demonstrate a technique more advanced than others you've mastered so far. Failure is expected, and the wards should prevent any injury to others from a miscast spell. But will the sparks of your magic just sputter out and die? Or will you inadvertently mispronounce, misform, misshape, or miscalculate in a way that brings chaos to you and your lab partner?

(You could also manage to succeed in casting the spell, but that isn't very fun.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

How could Aziraphale ask that and with such a blank and clueless expression?

"Are you serious... You forgot already?? We were at the gazebo only five bloody minutes ago!"

He ought to be pissed. His initial reaction was to be pissed, to glare daggers and to stomp around like an elephant with a toothache, as all those angry rejected feeling boiled just under the surface. Crowley didn't go far however as this was all too weird to leave the angel entirely on his own. Despite what had been said Aziraphale was still too important to simply abandon.

"Why are we at a school anyway? Is he here? You found him and brought us both here?"

Edited 2021-07-24 12:29 (UTC)

"Five minutes ago?! It's been ages!"

What he should have said was that he was sorry, that he thought he was doing the right thing in the moment, that he was wrong. That a lot had happened for him since that time and they should have a seat and talk.

"And no, I mean, yes. I did find Adam, but he's not here. At least," he looked around, "I don't think he's here; I certainly didn't bring either of us here for that purpose, or at all." He fussed with the robes folded in his hands, disturbing the snooze Creme was attempting to have. "...It's complicated, Crowley. It would seem we're coming from different places."

Crowley's ears perked up at the 'I did find Adam,' but lowered at the 'I don't think he's here'. Course not. Why would he have been? After all even if Aziraphale had found Adam it's not like he would have told a demon about it. They were on opposite sides.

"We're always coming from different places. You don't have to remind me again."

His skulking off had been interrupted before as he had stepped off the gazebo steps and right onto some sort of dizzying portal which had dropped him off here. Now when he took a step to skulk off he realized he had no where to skulk to! This was not London. His Bentley wasn't parked along the curb. He looked right, then left, then his eyes sailed skyward as he snarled at the clouds.

"Rrrr!"

That wasn't-- Goodness, he was going about this all wrong-footed, wasn't he? Aziraphale placed Crème and the robes on a nearby rock, hoping it was reasonably clean and all, and with a sigh and silent prayer for patience up at the clouds, he followed after his demon's short-burst of sulk.

"Crowley," he began, reaching for Crowley's shoulder before hesitating. Would the touch even be welcome? They'd hardly done so much before the Apocalypse, but they had certainly done plenty of touching since their time world-hopping had begun. He knew, maybe not now, but someday it would be welcome and he had learned from the humans that there was no time like the present.

He reached out for his hand instead, thinking of all the times Crowley was kind and gentle with him, and he refrained only if it seemed genuinely unwanted. "I mean we are literally coming from different places. The last I remember I was on different world than ours. And the last moments I had with you were well after that dreadful argument."

It wasn't quite a touch but the vague sensation of fingers drawing very near to his and their warmth making their presence known. The anger parted and for a moment was about to dissolve entirely at the hope that those few stray digits just might brush past his hand. But they missed and the wrong-footedness came to the fore again.

"So... I asked you to go off with me but instead you decided to go off world hopping on your own?"

That stung! But instead of letting it show for more than a brief flicker of a hurt moment he drew away, using that demonic fury as a sort of shield.

"I get it, Angel! I'll leave you and..."

A vague failing gesture towards the robe and the other snake you were stepping out with, don't think he hadn't noticed!

"Your new friend alone! There has to be some world out there nearby I can get to. Or a moon! When I'm up there soaking in the moon rays I'm not even going to think about you!"

Wrong-footedness turned to indignation. Oh don't you pick on Crème. He is an innocent snake who has done nothing wrong ever.

Aziraphale watched him turn away, not chasing after him, all but stomping his foot in frustration. This was not at all the way he thought today would go, not when he saw Crowley was here. Fine, leave, he thought, ignoring the inner distress at the thought of Crowley actually leaving him. I'll just sunder you back here. He hadn't succeeded before, but he was sure this try would be different.

"I was pulled into this world and all the others against my will, same as you! I got 'my new friend' because I missed my best friend!"

And that's what Crowley was, and always should be. His Best Friend. Aziraphale was messing this up completely when all he should be doing is mending Crowley's hurt feelings. But he'd never been good at that, had he--at least not when he was the one who hurt him. It was always Crowley reaching across the aisle, Crowley making the amends, Crowley taking care of repairing what had been broken.

He tried. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you where the Antichrist was, Crowley. I should have. We were a team. Are a team, if you'll still have me."

No matter how close that moon was he wouldn't actually have left. Crowley had been mad enough to think he would leave, furious enough to say it and irate enough to storm away but something would always have held him back. He would have gone off on his own for a few hours, cooled off, and come sauntering back to try again. It's not like he could actually forget Aziraphale. They had been friends since the beginning! His best friend...

To hear those words echoed back to him stopped him cold in his tracks.

"Are you asking me for forgiveness?"

No, hold up... Let him drink that in for a moment. An angel asking a demon for forgiveness. The balance of things was upside down. Aziraphale never asked him for things like that! Hey, Crowley get rid of this stain? Crowley... are you going to finish that dessert? Crowley, I need a rescue because I've used too many miracles this month. That was the way their relationship worked. He didn't know how to respond to this!

"Who... who pulled you to this world?"

It was the only thing he could think of to set the balance right again. He could find and punish the one who kidnapped Aziraphale.

"I suppose I am." Funny, the sort of things that can happen when an angel and a demon are on the same side. He wanted to tell Crowley that he shouldn't feel obligated to forgive, if he didn't want to. That would have been a very un-angelic thing to suggest, since forgiveness was something that ought to be encouraged. Ultimately, he decided Crowley was a free enough thinker, rarely felt obligated to do anything because it was expected, and certainly didn't need Aziraphale's suggestions on what he should or shouldn't do.

Besides, he very much wanted forgiveness. He wanted to be back in Crowley's good graces. Or bad graces. Or not-graces, however it may be.

"It hardly matters who. It wasn't malicious, whoever it was, and it's not like I've had that bad a time of it. I seem to recall the town has some decent mead."

Crowley didn't know the meaning of the word grace! If you had ever seen him dance you would know that.

He did, in a bizarre twist of fate, know what forgiveness meant and it sent his head rolling across his shoulders. If he turned around he knew what he would see. Those two big soulful eyes, staring deeply into his, asking for this favor... And this was a big ask, Angel! One Aziraphale had never really needed to make because he would have been forgiven within the hour regardless. But there he was, asking.

"Mead? I haven't had mead in centuries."

He needed a drink to deal with all this. Besides what better way to make up than to go out to get smashed and watch an angel sample some dessert?

Aziraphale's smile of relief was too blinding to be looked upon by even immortal eyes, so it was best he didn't turn around to see it. But he could undoubtedly hear it in the angel's slightly breathless voice.

"Well. Then I suppose you are overdue. My treat."

He gathered Creme and his robes, tucking the small snake into a pocket instead, and joined Crowley. He had to refrain from kissing Crowley on the cheek or taking him by the arm as they were wont to do in past lives. They weren't that, and he was lucky enough to have maintained this friendship.

"Come along, my dear."

Had there been a shocking kiss on the cheek or even a scandalously held hand the cool demon who fell into a swagger to walk by Aziraphale's side would have melted in a gooey puddle. It was odd enough to find Aziraphale so changed! He was willing to admit they were friends? To ask... actually ask for forgiveness?! FROM HIM? That was mind blowing. It was taking a moment for all the pieces to knit themselves together.

"So... we're going to school now not saving the world?"

Crowley walked in silence beside Aziraphale or as much silence as he ever liked to walk in which meant rambling about something or other.

"I've never actually gone to school before. Well... I mean, I've been inside one, lots of interesting things going on in schools, but never as a student."

He turned from his ramblings to look at Aziraphale now. There was still something of that glow about his face, just happy that things had worked out. It suited him.

"Should I be carrying your books?"

He made a few mmms of agreement and resolved to tell him the world was already saved by Adam over their meal. Crowley deserved to know that despite everything, all their mishaps and quarrels, it worked out in the end.

The rambling into their silences was what made Crowley Crowley, and Aziraphale wouldn't have it any other way. He was as much an encourager and contributor to the off-tangent conversations they had pursued over the years, and couldn't very well begrudge Crowley a little rambling to fill the awkward spaces between them. It was always just nice to listen to that familiar, comfortable voice.

The question took him by surprise and the happy glow faded into charmed blush. He had been human, once, in his world-hopping travels, and there was no escaping the knowledge that carrying another's books was somewhat of a school-sweethearts tradition, and it was very in line with Crowley's nature, like holding a door, or carrying his shopping, or miracling a puddle away so he didn't have to step in it. He looked down the path, unable to hide his smile.

"If you like. I wouldn't say no."

Is that what that meant? If he had been called out on it Crowley would have feigned innocence, saying the gesture was only something he had seen kids doing in those old timely school days movies that he had liked to watch so much when drive-ins were that rare novelty that never really caught on in the UK. There was something satisfying about being able to sit in your car and watch a movie on the big screen. Shame really, that they hadn't lasted. Aziraphale might have enjoyed a movie as long as they were seated side-by-side in his Bentley.

This was a test. Aziraphale trusted him! Crowley knew that, but there had been that brief period of time which was so fresh in his mind when there had been a doubt. Back then the Angel might have said no, I won't tell you where Adam is and I won't even let you touch my books. Now however he would be trusted with them. Books meant a lot to Aziraphale and it said a great deal that he would be allowed to carry them. Crowley wondered just how far this newfound freedom extended.

"We could pass notes during lessons, make fun of the teachers," What other sort of things did delinquent kids do? Ah! "Cut class under the bleachers?"

"The professors are good people. We will not make fun of them in our notes," he said, turning up his nose in the usual prim way he did when disagreeing with Crowley's troublemaking. "We'll have plenty of other things to discuss, I'm sure. We always do."

Under the bleachers, hm? In his youth, as a human, boys would cut class to do such things like smoke or drink, but he and Crowley could simply do that in their off hours. They also cut classes to do...things together in secluded areas, as young men had to during that era. Overall, cutting classes wasn't all that different from what he and Crowley had done for centuries--perpetually caught up in socializing with each other during what should have been worktime. He didn't actually have any objections.

"I'm not sure there are any bleachers to cut class under." He glanced sidelong at Crowley. "We may have to get creative."

"Like being a 'good person' has ever saved anyone from being written about in notes!"

In fact that often made people the target of such notes if they were too annoying or made themselves into a 'goody two-shoes'. Did kids still use that phrase? Nah, probably not! A wuss then. Or the type that was such a know-it-all that they ended up being shoved into lockers and given swirlies in the bathroom.

Which actually... He could see quite easily happen to Aziraphale. He was just the sort to end up in a locker.

"Creative. Yeah, like popping out of homeroom for a pint. Bit silly really... an angel and a demon heading to school. What do we really need to learn here?"

A beat.

"Other than your locker combination? Better share that with me as backup."

In a normal campus, Aziraphale probably would be the target of bullies. Had Heaven had lockers or a dumpster to toss him into, those bad angels might have done something rather mean there. However, he wasn't thinking of nerds in lockers, or following Crowley's train of thought in regards to threats on his lunch money or some such.

They stood to learn a lot, but first--

"I'm not even sure we have lockers here. At least, I've never bothered to use ones. Adults don't live in the dorms, so it made more sense to store all my supplies and library materials in my room, since I was the only one using it."

He tried for subtlety. "I could give you a key to my room, however, if you're that concerned about me being locked out of my storage spaces."

Full stop! Full brake squealing, impending car crash, smoke billowing from the tires, stop! The key to his room?

THE.
KEY.
TO.
HIS.
ROOM!?

First the forgiveness thing and then this!? If the Heavens had opened up and God herself had spoken Crowley couldn't have been any more surprised. But... its not like he hadn't thought about it, them cohabitating in the same space. He had that big open flat that could be cluttered with a few hundred books without losing too much floor space. It simply had never come up. When could a demon ask an angel to share space without it seeming... well, too fast?

Crowley sniffed, his head bobbing slightly to the right as he glanced casually aside and tried to play this cool.

"Sure. I mean... I wouldn't want you getting locked away from your library materials."

Did that sound casual? He peeked at Aziraphale's face to check but only for a moment so as to not give too much away.

"Makes sense to keep the adults and kids separate anyway. They probably have curfews and homework and such."

His coolness levels certainly had Aziraphale convinced. Then again, he thought Crowley was the height of modernity and popular style even when he was inarguably at his absolute oddest, most childish or nerdy. The demon was multifaceted creature. But he also didn't have the angel fooled one bit that he was handling the offer without being affected.

"Yes, exactly. I'd hate to incur a late fee."

He bit back a fond, adoring smile, but it fought its way forward anyway, and he kept his eyes on the path rather than look at Crowley and give away everything.

"We'll have homework too, you know. Lots to study for in school, tests and the like." He couldn't help himself: "We could study together."

"Are the Librarians here super fierce?"

It really didn't matter that Aziraphale wasn't looking at him. Whenever he smiled as happily as that everything he said held that same thrilled-to-bits joy to it. With a glow about his face and a pleased little bounce in his step... Why the angel practically glittered!

It was such a far cry from the last time Crowley had seen him and endlessly puzzling! And the hits just kept coming as the angel figuratively sucker punched him again with that, 'We could study together'. This was not entirely the same as Crowley's suggestion that they run off together but from an angel, one so set upon books and reading, it was just as powerful.

Only those little reminders about all the homework and tests he was going to be expected to do managed to keep his demonic feet on firmly on the ground.

"Nnnnk! They won't make us do tests, will they?? That's just for the kids!"

"Oh, they're nothing like the one in that Camelot-world. She was actually fightening."

And then he remembered Crowley didn't remember that little adventure in puzzle-solving with him and with Alec, and he hoped Alec was alright, wherever in the universe he had ended up. Perhaps with Ellie or that young woman with the pdf, or his daughter, or at least someone was there with him to look after him. He needed looking after. He deserved to be looked after a little, and not just because he looked after everyone else.

"Of course we'll do tests!" he laughed at Crowley's obvious annoyance, glad to be pulled from his own thoughts. "We're students, Crowley. Students take tests. And get grades. I'm sure the young men at Oxford and Cambridge and all those sorts of places take tests too. It'll be fun. ...Unless...are you afraid your magic won't be up to snuff?"

He had been to Camelot in ye olden King Arthur times but he hadn't been one to hang around at the library. Crowley had been out there in the field fermenting... things... in the damp English fog. He had no reason to doubt Aziraphale's words that the librarian back in those times had indeed been fierce. She or he might even have been of the round table for all he knew.

"Of course my magic is up to snuff!"

Affronted by the idea that it would not have been, and for the moment blissfully unaware that he had been gifted a new set of unfamiliar skills, he could be as boastful as he liked.

"I'm obviously going to be top of the class. I doubt anyone else here has been using magic as much as you or I."

He made a noise of agreement along with Crowley's claims of magic up to snuff, like one humoring their spouse in a long disputed and defended contention. Learning magic from the ground up, sort of the human way, was a very humbling experience. Crowley would find out soon enough.

"Perhaps." They were approaching the restaurant now, and Aziraphale stood aside at the door to let Crowley enter first. It seemed appropriate, after all, as Aziraphale had done the asking out this time. "To which house do you belong?"

Just as he had always done he stepped through the doors much like a lady at a ball, but he paused right beyond the entry to wait for Aziraphale to catch him back up... taking the time to point out the best looking table to the maitre d', or whatever passed for one here, so they could stake out their dining location.

"House? They give us a free house?"

Crowley you see had been rather used to getting his orders transmitted directly into his mind and hadn't really bothered to actually listen to much the teaching staff had said about such matters. It had all seemed pretty trivial in the wake of the end of the world and his best friend had broken up with him anyway.

He was so caught up in watching Crowley, he took a half-second longer to catch up.

"Well, you get room and board, yes, but I mean the school of magic you've been assigned to study. I'm in House Ka, and I was hoping we might be in the same classes--you know, so that I might see your magical prowess first hand."

They were given a table out of way, perfect for two people who wanted to be alone together, but still afforded an excellent view of the restaurant and whatever sort of ambiance it had. He place Crème and his school supplies on a spare chair, then when the waiter came, he ordered them both drinks, and himself a slice of overpriced pie, and then waited to let Crowley look at the menu and decide if he wanted anything else before sending their waiter away.

"Ka's focus is Sundering, which is the type of magic that brought us here."

Aziraphale was given a hard stare over the rim of the empty water glass that always seemed to adorn every table at a restaurant but were rarely ever used by those ordering a good mead. That was sarcasm, angel, he was onto you.

"Some one said something about magic when I arrived... I didn't really pay much attention to it. We already have magic."

Test Drive Reloaded! #1

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