Open Post: What a yarn

[sporesprouter]

There's still quite a bit of winter yet, according to the calendar, not to mention whatever Dark is, and Tress got an idea for a project fairly recently. It's appropriate and it gives her a chance to stretch out a skill she hasn't really gotten an opportunity to use in a while.

So she's in a cozy parlor, sitting curled up in a big comfy armchair right by the window, a basket of yarn at her feet, and she's knitting. It's still too early to be immediately obvious what it is she's knitting, but she's moving with the easy confidence that indicates it's definitely not a new craft she's just now decided to take up.

Sometimes, after all, it's nice to go back to something old and familiar.

Comments

[az_fell]

"That's true enough." And it makes him smile a little as he sips his tea. "Humans are impressively unpredictable, I've found."

[sporesprouter]

"At least sometimes," she agrees with a nod. "And good thing or it would get kind of boring."

[az_fell]

"Dreadfully." For someone who's quite attached to his own staid routine, Aziraphale's equally attached to the chaos of humanity. He doesn't necessarily want it to touch him, but it's comforting to know it's there. Like sitting inside during a rainstorm. "And Crowley and I would be out of a job, I suppose."

[sporesprouter]

She looks somewhat curious. "Do you really have your jobs here anyway?"

[az_fell]

"Well, no," he admits. "Heaven and Hell don't seem able to reach us here. I suppose Crowley's been up to some light tempting, but that's force of habit."

[sporesprouter]

She nods. "Is there anything you've been doing out of force of habit even if you don't need to?"

[az_fell]

"I've tried several times to organize the library," says Aziraphale a bit peevishly, "but it resists all my efforts." He manages to perform the act of sipping tea as cattily as possible, as if the library is a sentient entity and they're locked in combat. "It worked much better back in my shop."

[sporesprouter]

Tress manages not to laugh, but only just. "Oh, yes, I can imagine that would be a nightmare."

[az_fell]

"It is!" He sighs, although there's at least a tiny bit of self-awareness in his put-upon huffiness. "I'll pose the same question to you."

[sporesprouter]

She nods down at her knitting. "Making things. Cooking, this... Obviously if this place can just provide anything, it's not necessary, but... it's different, if that makes sense."

[az_fell]

"It does." Aziraphale gives her a small smile. "I can create whatever I like, too -- magical interdimensional mansion or no. I still prefer the things that humans have made."

[sporesprouter]

Tress smiles back. "I think it's the time and care taken. It adds something. Makes up for any imperfections¹."

¹ In most cases. Apologies to Fort's cooking.

[az_fell]

"The imperfections are the point, my dear," says Aziraphale. "If I wanted perfection, I would have gone back to Heaven."

[sporesprouter]

"Is it too perfect there, then?"

[az_fell]

"It's immaculate." Aziraphale hesitates, glancing upwards as if someone, or Someone, still might happen to hear him. "Unimpeachably so."

[sporesprouter]

She pauses, thinking that over for an extended moment. At first blush, it sounds, of course, heavenly, but after she gives it some consideration.... "Oh."

[az_fell]

The tone of that oh makes Aziraphale laugh, a more subdued sort of laugh than his usual variety. "Ah, see. You understand me." He downs a rather substantial sip of tea.

[sporesprouter]

"A little, I think. Probably not perfectly, but I'm not sure I want to understand perfectly."

[az_fell]

At that, he brightens. "Precisely. You understand me imperfectly. And isn't that perfect?"

[sporesprouter]

She laughs a little and finally takes a sip of her tea. "I understand you perfectly imperfectly, yes."