voice; 8/12

[bibliophilicbells]

[A slight clearing of the throat, followed by a soft, heavily-accented voice. Prim, almost. And serious.]

I, ah, understand there's been some talk of firearms and their usefulness lately, but — well. I was wondering if anyone here has any experience in the art of blacksmithing? Or might know where one could hypothetically acquire a sword? A shortsword, specifically.

Erm.

Thank you... in advance.

[Awkward pause goes here.]

— this is Aziraphale, by the way.

[Another pause.]

Very good, then.

Comments

[bibliophilicbells]

[Aziraphale is there. He's made a second home for himself within its walls, helping as needed to justify his occupancy — and reading, and reading, and reading.

He spots Keith from the desk he's currently occupying and smiles, bright and warm and welcoming. There's some curiosity in his gaze, too, as he pushes himself from his chair and approaches.]

Yes, hello, thank you — [Reaching for the sword, Aziraphale finds himself hesitating. In all his millennia of existence, it's never been this easy.] — I'm sorry, I have to ask just one more time. You're sure?

[thermalwind]

[He accesses the other man at a glance. People here are full of surprises but one can get a bit of an idea about them from first meeting. It's all in what people share of themselves. He's always guarded, his steps light and eyes sharp. Like a blade ready to be drawn.

Keith pauses as well, Then he reaches for the white U at his side edged in black. The moment his hand closes about it purple light suffuses the object and it warps into a long slightly curved blade not unlike a kukri.]

I'm sure. This is one of the two I use. [The object reverts and he puts it back on his belt.] And I meant what I said. I'd rather a blade seeing use to keep someone else safe. Or who they choose to be safe.