(Untitled)

[a_fell]

A:

Found something of yours. Will be by to drop it off.

-R
That's all there is, though Aziraphael reads the text wave over several times

Comments

[un_fallen]

It's almost before the engines have completely cycled down that a figure is seen bounding out of a hastily opened hatch, looking left and right even as he slides gracefully down the side of the emergency ladder. He waves tentatively as he approaches, and if he notices Aziraphael's state of anxiety, it doesn't ruffle him at all.

He is, to all appearances, alone.

[a_fell]

Neither Raguel's haste nor his open checking for onlookers do much to allay Aziraphael's unease. The message had been cryptic, even for Raguel, and while of course nothing in it had -- on the surface -- been cause for concern, it's... well, it's Raguel.

It could be anything.

He draws to a halt a few feet from the demon, brushing back the strands of hair teased loose by the breeze. It gives him a moment to school his expression, and to try and iron the wary note from his voice.

"Raguel," he says.

(Not as formally as he might have, not so very long ago.)

[un_fallen]

"Hello," he says, stopping as well. He seems content to allow that buffer of a few feet of empty space remain between them for now.

"Nobody else around? You got my text wave?"

It's possible these two questions are related. Possible, but by no means assured.

[a_fell]

"Nobody," he says, and the little curl of worry snakes that much higher. "And yes, I did. Something of mine, you said."

Perhaps it's not so bad. Lo- Somebody knows, he's taken to assuming the worst, recently. Angel he might be, but he was never the most talented optimist amongst them.