nexus_crossings | Mother always told me to never give away a story for free

"Less magic? Goodness, it all sounds so odd, a single god, and all that. Not that it's bad, I'm sure you all get along quite well, just magic is surprisingly ubiquitous back home. Strange to imagine a place with so much less."

He wondered what it changed about how people got by. Even the more mundane villages and towns had magic as part and parcel either in bloodlines or in the wildlife and places around them. Maybe stories there were just stories. What did adventurers do without magical threats to pit themselves against?

"I'm sure someone here will be able to make some sense of my poor coat." Molly agreed, smiling. "I do need to do all of those things though... you wouldn't know a good place to get a bite, would you? I can't help but admit I'm a bit over travel rations."

"That seems to be the case for many people that I meet here," Aziraphale confesses, unfazed by Molly's surprise. "More magic, more gods... although I met a starship captain who comes from a universe with no magic and no gods, if you can believe such a thing." Far stranger, in his opinion. "Where I'm from, humans have become quite adept with technology. They use it for everything. You'll see a lot of that in the Nexus, too."

Aziraphale's expression lights up at the question of dining. "Oh, I know several places. What sort of cuisine do you enjoy? I can take you there after you've dealt with the tailor." Though he has only just met Molly, he feels responsible for him, and what is money to an angel that can miracle some up whenever he wants, anyway?

"None at all? Goodness but that must be quite the culture shock for you captain friend." Technology wasn't entirely unknown. Typically simpler in design unless one was dealing with artificers but theirs was fueled by magic so...

He can't help but chuckle at the clear delight Aziraphale lights up with at the mention of food. "Honestly I'll try anything at least once. Good food, good atmosphere, good conversation is really a trifecta that can't be beat though, so feel free to surprise me." He had money at least, but at the same time Molly would be incredibly charmed by the angel offering to pay. He wasn't as boisterous as her, but the angel did bring to mind Jester in some manner, that cheerful sort of friendliness that was part and parcel with the little blue tiefling.

"He handled himself admirably, but I do suspect meeting an angel was a bit of surprise for him." Aziraphale sighs. "I'll admit, it's quite refreshing to not have to hide my true nature in the Nexus, but the last thing I want to do is give someone a crisis of faith. Most people I've met have taken the news in stride."

Food is one of Aziraphale's pleasures, and Molly seems to be the same mind about it. "Jolly good," he says, wiggling his shoulders. "There are a number of places close by, there is no shortage of those three things in the Nexus. Shall I wait here, then, while you consult the tailor?" He doesn't go so far as to invite himself along, although if Molly needed some sort of assistance, he'd oblige. Unless someone is attempting to buy one of his precious first editions, it's his very nature to be friendly and approachable.

"I'm glad to hear it, on both counts." Molly hummed, nodding. "Never did like hiding who I am, people can either like me or no, no skin off my nose but it seems a bit more complex for you, if coming from a place where your god isn't as... overt in their watchfulness."

It didn't take too long to pick one of the shops to go into- the window displays showed enough skill with embroidery that Molly felt he'd be leaving his coat in good hands for repairs. "If you'd like to wait I'm sure it won't be too long. You can always wade in and retrieve me if I get sidetracked."

Well, that's one way of putting it, Aziraphale thinks to himself as he hazards a glance upwards, just in case the Almighty feels like contradicting that. "Setting aside the fact that my true form has the potential to cause either rapture or temporary madness, I can't imagine what sort of uproar there'd be for people to find out an angel is living in their midst. But that's what my corporation is for, so I can blend in without anyone noticing." He pauses a moment. "Well, almost anyone. Those with any sort of magical ability can usually sense I'm not all I seem."

The tailor shop also seems to meet with Aziraphale's approval, who smiles at Molly's offer. "I'll be fine waiting, it's no bother." He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a beloved paperback. "I've got a book to keep me company until I have the pleasure of entertaining yours again."

"Oooh, yes that's an additional complication it would seem." Molly mused, considering the angel. He had no idea if angels back home had the same restriction but it also seemed such a bother. "Well I for one certainly prefer my brains unscrambled so appreciate this charming corporation of yours."

The similarity to Caleb in that assurance with Aziraphale's book just earned a short laugh as the tiefling gave a little showy bow. "And people say I'm charming! Well I'll leave you to your surely lovely companion."

And truly it didn't take too long- maybe fifteen minutes or so before Molly reappeared from the shop, sans his coat, with a sky blue shirt instead of the white one he'd worn before. And it seemed he was utterly unable to own unadorned clothing- this one had gold embroidery picked up the sleeves, all manner of constellations and astrological symbolism. "All set and positively famished! Shall we be off?" He asked with a grin and a gallant offer of his arm to the angel.

Aziraphale is wondering the same thing. It would explain why angels are a rare sight on Molly's world, as well. His contemplation is derailed by the compliment, however, and he blushes accordingly. "Oh, this old thing," he says, gesturing at himself modestly, a pleased little smile on his face. "Anyway, it's nothing to worry about, probably even less so for you, being attuned to the magical and all."

He waves off further compliments, chuckling softly and opening his paperback once Molly has entered the shop. Those fifteen minutes pass in the blink of an eye, and the angel is quite engrossed in Bilbo and the dwarves' trek to Lonely Mountain when Molly returns.

"That was hardly any time at all," he remarks, tucking his book away. He beams and takes the offered arm, admiring the embroidery on the sleeve. "Goodness, what lovely work," he remarks, making a mental note of the name of the tailor shop. Crowley might like a shirt like this -- in black, of course, or perhaps red. "Yes, let's be off, I know just the place, it has the most perfectly baked brioche outside of Paris."

He leads Molly away from the street lined with clothiers and down another. This one has restaurants interspersed with little groceries, bakeries, and other specialty food stores. It happens to be Aziraphale's favorite part of the Nexus, too, excepting the Grand Library. "Molly, I hope this isn't too gauche to ask, but what was happening that led to you ending up here?"

"I'll have to come back and see what they make of my poor coat after they get the blood out but they had this wonderful shirt to replace the ruined one, and how could I say no?" It might be amusing to note, with Aziraphale's thoughts on Crowley, that his companion had a tattoo peeking out from his shirt sleeve, a serpent's head up the back of his hand.

And while the clothiers have Molly's interest, he can happily admit his interest is yanked quite firmly by the wonderful smells the angel is leading him towards, tail twitching behind him not entirely unlike a cat who's attention is piqued.

"Ah. Yes well see there was a gang of slavers that decided to make off with some of our friends. As a general rule we dislike slavers anyways, awful people, but well then they made it personal. Unfortunately as you can see, I didn't come out of it in very good shape."

Aziraphale does a small double-take at the tattoo. Not that snakes are an uncommon tattoo motif, but with his mind already on Crowley, it's a funny coincidence. "You have a number of tattoos," he notes, "All very nicely done. Is there a story behind them?"

That seems a nicer topic than Molly's run in with slavers. He frowns, not a fan of such people, either -- a true dark side of humanity, enslaving one another -- and pats Molly's arm. "That sounds terrible, I'm sorry for you and your friends." Molly, especially, who he's beginning to suspect might have died on his own world.

In the Nexus, however, he's now whole and well, and Aziraphale intends to treat him to lunch. The angel's nose twitches, also captivated by the smells, and he follows it to a nice bistro at the end of the street. It's attached to a bakery, so that when they enter the establishment, a full display of breads and pastries are visible from the restaurant's side. Aziraphale finds a table by the large window so that Molly can people-watch if he likes. The staff appear human, although that isn't necessarily true of the customers.

"If anyone is equipped to put a stop to them, it's the Nein." Even if he'd died, he still was confident in the others. They'd handle things.

"A story indeed!" Not the one Molly was going to tell him, but he'd tell him a story about the tattoos. "An old myth about the creation of the moon- the world was swaddled in darkness whenever the sun went below the horizon, and monsters of course used that shadowy cloak to commit all sorts of awfulness. Seeing that, the clever snake decided there needed to be some way to bring light into the evening. Not the full sun, as creatures still needed to be able to sleep, but perhaps a mirror. The brightest, most perfectly polished mirror that ever existed, in the care of one very vain peacock who cared not for anyone's struggles, only that he could admire himself in his mirror."

Sue him he was having fun making up this story, and he was sure it was fun to hear anyways. "The snake had his clever disguises and in the darkness made himself up to be a monstrous version of the peacock, great and terrible enough that the frightened bird forgot himself and flung the mirror at him. Which of course that sassy serpent caught in his tail before he fled, carrying the mirror up to the heavens to reflect the sunlight as the moon. Sadly the peacock pecked off all of his lovely little feet in the process, but such is life sometimes."

Molly certainly did like that table Aziraphale found for them, settling in with a pleased little hum, relaxing back in his seat. "This place looks so cozy. You're here to get me utterly fat on breads and pastries aren't you?"

"The Nein?" he repeats. "Is that the name of your group of friends?"

Though it's a made-up story, Aziraphale has no clue, hanging on to every word as told so entertainingly by his new companion. The angel loves stories, and it's not often that he gets to hear a myth that's entirely new to him. He smiles, finding the tale very pleasing, not thinking to ask why Molly would choose to tattoo that myth onto his skin, as per his original question. "A clever snake indeed," he says once Molly is done. "I'll have to share that myth with my partner. He has a strong affinity for snakes."

The angel takes a seat across from Molly, sitting with perfect posture. A waiter comes over and drops off a pair of menus, and Aziraphale peruses his immediately. He already knows that he's going to order brioche, but shall he have it as the bread of a sandwich? Or perhaps a roll to eat along a nice cup of soup, or --

Molly's comment has him looking up from the menu and chuckling softly. "It is very tempting, isn't it? But you should eat your fill, dear. What sort of scoundrel would I be if I offered to take someone to lunch and then refused to treat them?"

"Indeed it is! The Mighty Nein, adventuring band extraordinaire!" Molly enthused lightly with a showy wave of his hand, ever so slightly tempered with the idea of being inside and in a more enclosed space in mind. Inside voices and flamboyance!

It might be a fabrication, but the clear delight from Aziraphale meant that the lie was definitely preferable in Molly's mind. The real story might be interesting, mysteries always were but they also touched on things that weren't nearly so fanciful and cheerful as the idea of a mischievous serpent turning a mirror into the moon.

Where the angel sat perfectly prim, the tiefling slouched with a languid air of comfortable lounging, accepting the menu with a warm murmur of appreciation to the waiter complete with a smile before he was skimming the options. He had no idea what some of this was- the descriptions were self-explanatory in a lot of them so he could suss out the idea of them and was honestly a bit intrigued to try this new sort of food out.

"A scoundrel of the highest order I'm sure," The tiefling hummed, with a soft mou as if considering if he was sitting across from such a person. "But no. Not you, while I'm sure you've got your own brand of fun tucked under that bowtie of yours, you hardly seem the sort to be that manner of ne're-do-well."

"The Mighty Nein," Aziraphale repeats to himself, a touch of wonder in his voice. From the way Molly speaks of them, they sound like a group whose exploits the angel would enjoy hearing about. "And what sorts of adventures would you go on?"

Delighted as he is by the moon myth, he would have been a good, compassionate listener for the real story behind the tattoos, no matter if it wasn't a happy one. But if Molly wants to keep the tone of their meal light, the angel can certainly oblige. While Molly pretends to consider his possible scoundrelness, he watches the tiefling with a fond smile. There must be something inherent in a demonic bloodline that prevents one from sitting in an upright manner.

"You're an excellent judge of character," he says with a small wiggle of his shoulders and a twinkle in his eyes. "Now then, I must insist that whatever you order, you save room for a pain au chocolat for dessert, they are simply divine here. I'm going to ask our server what the soup of the day is, and if it is any sort of bisque, order it immediately. You won't regret it."

"Many strange and wonderous adventures I can assure you," And from the tone the tiefling seemed entirely willing to share. He always extolled to never give a story away for free, but that never seemed to stop him from sharing regardless. And besides, Aziraphale healing him and buying him lunch would absolutely count as payment if he were actually the tit-for-tat sort. "We explored wherever we could stick our inquisitive little noses, did our very level best to leave every place better than we found it. I like to think we succeeded in that, but that may just be my massive ego talking."

Not really. He held that particular maxim close, ego or no, and for all he might cheat and scam and tell his fibs, he did his best to keep that idea at the heart of his shenanigans. He hoped he did as well as he thought he did.

The teasing shoulder wiggle earned a short laugh, Molly's brows lifting. "Chocolate? Well now you are speaking my language, I see no reason not to absolutely do exactly what you're suggesting. And I can't say I've ever had a bisque but no time like the present, hm?" At least from the conversation cues he knew it was some manner of soup.

Aziraphale has been a patron of many a storyteller (including the Bard himself), and knows better than to ask to be entertained for free. But Molly sounds eager to share, and so the angel sits there, curious and eager to hear more. He laughs at the ego comment. "I'm sure you and your friends made things for the better. Certainly if you're going after slavers and their ilk."

The angel considers himself a good judge of character (except for a couple times when he really missed the mark), and he likes Molly quite a bit. That impression extends to the rest of the Mighty Nein.

"You have chocolate on your world?" Aziraphale would have assumed the opposite, but he's pleased to hear Molly's enthusiasm over it. "You might be familiar with bisque under a different name. It's a very creamy sort of soup made with seafood, although they have a butternut squash bisque sometimes that isn't technically a bisque, but still very good and I wouldn't turn my nose up at it."

The finer points of soup versus bisque will have to wait, because the waiter is back to take their orders. It turns out that the soup of the day is tomato basil, not a bisque, but Aziraphale orders it anyway, along with a small savory tart and a brioche roll, and a pot of orange blossom tea for the table.

"Oh well in those situations it's easy to tell really, I mean who wouldn't agree that a place is better off without slavers about?" Molly mused, twiddling one of the rings he wore as he was skimming the menu. "It's the smaller situations where one can't quite be too certain. Just rolling into a town for a day or so and on again, hard to tell one way or the other, maybe a little harder to make that betterment without such an obvious thing needing fixing. Gotta trust in the little things then."

He considered the description, tilting his head with a hum. "Don't know that I have, most of my meals tended to be out of dive bars and such, or on the road. Stews and the like typically. It sounds delicious though, I'll have to try it sometime. And honestly I think if our world didn't have chocolate, Jester would be so very distraught as much as she adores her sweets and baked goods."

Molly has little to no clue what any of this is, but decides to give the soup a try, picking a crepe which he again barely knows how to pronounce off the menu but it has salmon and spinach and he's fairly certain he likes those things so this should be fine! A roll of his own as well, because goodness but the baked goods are tempting him with that wonderful scent.

Aziraphale thinks about all the times Heaven could have intervened in various slave trades and chose not to and decides to leave the question as rhetorical. There was that whole business with Moses, anyway, so the Almighty occasionally put Her metaphorical foot down. "Well, that is a good point. Small actions can have large, unintended consequences. But you really can't go wrong with kindness."

Lest Molly think that he's some sort of food snob, he gives him a reassuring smile. "Some of the best food comes out of little hole-in-the-wall establishments. Your friend Jester sounds like my type of person, although there are all manner of sweets. Honey, sugar, maple syrup, fresh fruit... but chocolate does scratch a particular itch when it comes to dessert."

A savory crepe is an excellent choice, in the angel's opinion. The waiter jots down their orders, then returns promptly with a small tea service that he leaves on their table. "I imagine magic must be used a lot on your world," he remarks as he pours them both a cup from an elegant glass teapot. "Is it only for fighting and healing, or do you use it for the little things, too?"

"I like to think we helped Kiri. Not the biggest thing we'd done at that point but... she was left better than we found her," He drew his brows lightly, the smile on his face unchanged but at the same time there was something a bit gentler to the tone. "Can't say I know what the consequences will be, she could grow up to be the next Great Conqueror or evil or something but wouldn't make me regret us doing right by the kid."

The tea definitely catches Molly's interest, accepting that cup, adding a small bit of sugar to his own with a chuckle.

"Most people think so! I mean it's the flashiest magic, so it's the stuff that gets the most attention, but there's spells for just about anything you can imagine. Jester likes her thaumaturgy. Lets her do little subtle things like make a wind pick up subtly, swing open unlocked windows and doors. Good for pranking. There's mending, which does exactly what it says on the tin, all manner of attention-grabbing spells that performers like, disguise spells, spells that let you comprehend languages or talk to animals, unlock things, coax plants to grow, the sky truly is the limit. And then you have artificers, they go more for technology fueled by magic if that makes sense? I've only seen a bit of that up close myself, but it's definitely impressive."

"You rescued a child?" The look Aziraphale bestows Molly is full of warmth. "My dear, that's one of the most selfless things one can do. I'm sure she's far better off after having met all of you."

The angel adds a heaping teaspoon of sugar to his own cup of tea, making his sweet tooth rather obvious. He sips it slowly while listening to Molly's answer. The fact that there are so many different types of spells has him fascinated. Most of those he can do himself with a miracle or well-placed application of his grace, but for mortals to have access to such magic sounds like something from a fairy tale.

"My goodness, such variety. No wonder your world is so full of magic. And what about yourself, Molly? Do you perform magic as well?"

"Well we weren't about to leave her alone to be eaten by a crocodile. She... have you ever met a kenku? Birdfolk of a sort, typically reminiscent of crows. They've no voice of their own, but they're perfect mimics of words and sounds, as well as excellent creators of duplications or forgeries. She'd been separated from her family while running from some fighting... she actually came with us for a time, feisty little thing that she was, but we found her a new home with a family we ended up reuniting by rescuing the parents from unjust imprisonment." Molly chuckled faintly, something reservedly fond in his tone. For all he'd kept the little kenku girl at arms length he had liked her.

The sight of the angel loading his tea earns a glimmer of amusement, reminding the tiefling of Jester's love of sweets. Clearly this angel and the boisterous cleric would have gotten on well- Molly thought he would certainly enjoy her tales at least, likely would be at least somewhat indulgent of her mischief.

"Of a sort. Nothing quite so lighthearted or useful outside more martial pursuits I'm afraid. And a bit unsettling for folk to watch. Unfortunate really, I always figured I'd make a halfway decent bard."

The only bird-like person that Aziraphale has met is skekGra, who is technically an alien and probably doesn't count, so he shakes his head, paying attention to Molly's description. It certainly changes the image in his mind of this little girl's appearance, but not his overall impression of her. "My goodness. Small children already have the tendency of repeating everything they hear, I can only imagine what sort of mischief she caused mimicking others. I'm glad you found a home for her, the rough and tumble world of adventuring is not a permanent place for a child."

For an angel, Aziraphale is surprisingly indulgent of a lot of things. He and Jester would definitely bonded over their love of sweets. He has another sip of tea, eyebrows rising at Molly's vague reply.

"Is it necromancy?" he asks cautiously. "Or, ah... do you shapeshift into something ferocious?" That's what Crowley does, although he only uses it to scare annoying humans. His expression softens, wishing that the tiefling had the opportunity. "You could always pursue that option here, you're an excellent storyteller. Can you play an instrument or sing?"

"Jester taught her a few things a four year old should know. You know, to say her name when asked, to tell people that she is very sweet when asked if she's nice," A faint beat as he took a sip of his tea. "To tell people to go fuck themselves if they say or do something she doesn't like."

He can't help but chuckle at the question, shaking his head.

"Oh no, nothing like that. I'm not sure entirely what it is, just that when I bleed I can make things happen. This place is a bit too nice to go demonstrating that though, I doubt they'd appreciate blood on their nice linens," A faint smile. "I don't have a lot of the magic you'd expect of a bard, and I've never quite had the patience to sit down and learn an instrument. I tend to earn coin with my readings, when not getting into all manner of trouble with the Nein."

Aziraphale makes a scandalized noise at the final phrase, but it seems mostly for show. "Well, I can't say I approve of the language, but it's important for children to have the proper words to protect themselves." His smile returns, a touch wistful as he adds, "You know, my partner and I once helped raise a child. That sounds like the sort of thing he would have taught Warlock. He's a fan of pranks, like your friend Jester."

Molly's answer has him breathing softly in relief before looking a touch concerned. "Yes, um... I imagine this wouldn't be the place for it." His mind is busy wrapping around the concept of a bard with magical powers when he catches the word readings.

"Fortune-telling, you mean? Like with tarot cards?" Ah-ha, now this is a magic that he's actually familiar with, via his witchy friend Anathema who always has a deck somewhere on her person. He's about to ask more, but their food arrives just then, and the angel is properly distracted by it all, particularly the fluffy and golden brioche rolls that come with both their meals.

"Well she had a knife for a while, that was probably more useful for her protection than swearing at someone." Molly sees that wistfulness and grins, finding it rather charming. "Jester loves pranks. It's almost literally a religious thing for her, she worships a god who's domain is literally mischief and spreading joy and when I say she's a natural I quite mean it."

The demonstration isn't happening but it likely does explain the myriad of small little scars decorating the front of Molly's chest, and up his throat though.

The food definitely distracts him though. When it's a place like this, the food definitely is something of an experience, so Molly takes his time to try things, from the crepe he'd ordered to that lovely roll, experimentally dipping a small bit into his soup as well, which goes over nicely.

"You've got lovely taste in dining, this is wonderful." He hums out finally, tail twitching in a pleased fashion against a chair leg. "But to your question, exactly like with tarot cards."

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