Open Post: Treat

[sporesprouter]

Now that the latest burst of activity has actually settled into something like calm for a few days, Tress has settled into a temporary project. In fairness, most of the temporary project took place the previous day in the out of the way kitchen that she had previously commandeered small appliances from. But today requires a bit more wandering.

So she is currently in the process of going around various at least semi-frequented common rooms leaving trays of both nut and honey balls and chocolate coconut balls. Next to each room's tray, she sets down a small card that says in careful handwriting, 'It's been a tough week. Help yourself!'

She's not putting a whole lot of fanfare into the process, but she's also not being particularly secretive about it, so she's easy enough to find throughout.

Comments

[sporesprouter]

Tress sets the tray down on an empty table in Aziraphale's reach. "Oh! You're an influencer?"

[az_fell]

Obviously, Aziraphale takes one more treat, then makes the valiant effort to restrain himself as he blinks politely at Tress. "A what?"

[sporesprouter]

She tries to think back to what Crowley said on his arrival. "Angels are... influencers? But to influence boring things like meal plans?" She hastens to reassure him, though. "There are times meal plans are kind of important, though, so I don't know if they're really all that boring, necessarily."

[az_fell]

Aziraphale sighs, deeply. He pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "You've been listening to Crowley, I see."

[sporesprouter]

"It's what he told me when he first arrived." She pauses. "I'm guessing it's not very accurate?"

[az_fell]

"I can... influence things," admits Aziraphale. He is undergoing a very familiar internal battle between irritation and fondness. "I try to sway humans toward virtue and goodness, where I can.¹ Not boring things."

¹And where he's ordered to.

[sporesprouter]

She smiles a little, Charlie's planned courtship tour flashing into her mind. "Sometimes being boring is exactly what's needed, though. So even if you did, it wouldn't necessarily be bad."

[az_fell]

That's worth a return of his smile. Aziraphale is reminded of some of the things he loves best about humanity when he talks to this specific human, and it's lovely. "Wisely said. Evil can be boring, of course. The banality of evil is an entire genre, after all. Byzantine tax forms and the like. But good can be a bit tedious, too -- like forming a habit."

[sporesprouter]

"Without tedious parts, you can't appreciate the exciting ones, anyway." She frowns, just a bit. "At least the good exciting ones. I think I'd probably rather have tedious than another zombie attack, even if it's exciting."

[az_fell]

"The zombies were a touch alarming," says Aziraphale. All right; he helps himself to one more nut and honey ball. "Even viewed through the kitchen window."

[sporesprouter]

Tress nods. "At least none of them got inside. That could have been bad."

[az_fell]

"Quite," agrees Aziraphale. "If they had, I would have taken care of them with a bit more alacrity. All those strapping young people just seemed to be having such a nice time slaying them."

[sporesprouter]

"I don't think it was exactly an entertainment opportunity..." It does give her pause, though. "But yes, I think some people were entertained anyway."

[az_fell]

"Humans and their violence." But Aziraphale doesn't sound as judgmental as he could. "I take it you got through it all safely?"

[sporesprouter]

"I was fine. Most of them didn't get anywhere near me. I was just at the door stopping them from moving before they could get in."

[az_fell]

Aziraphale actually does straighten with interest. He slides a spontaneously-appearing bookmark into his book and sets it aside, next to the now well-picked-over tray of Tress' baking. Never let it be said that he isn't appreciative of her efforts.

"Your spores, yes? I did read what you wrote, you know. I've never heard of such a thing."

[sporesprouter]

"Verdant spores, yes." She shrugs. "I've... gotten used to people never having heard of anything like it. I guess it's fair, because I'd never even thought about seas made of water before I got here either."

[az_fell]

Aziraphale widens his eyes, although the gesture is partly for dramatic effect. "You know, She put quite a lot of thought into all of Her designs... well, perhaps someone else put quite a lot of thought into designing your world.¹"

¹Someone did. It was a Mormon. Let's not open that theological can of worms, shall we?

[sporesprouter]

"Maybe someone did. I never really put all that much thought into it myself, I guess? Just busy living on it. Some times more busy than others, of course."

[az_fell]

Thoughtful, Aziraphale observes Tress. Several of the people here are, as far as he can tell, literary characters made flesh. It stands to reason that Tress may be, too, but from a book he hasn't read. "Did you have some sort of grand adventure, then?"

[sporesprouter]

She wrinkles her nose a bit as she thinks over the question. "I suppose you could probably call it a grand adventure when you look at it from a distance. It didn't feel all that grand when it was happening, though."

[az_fell]

"I suspect anyone who's been on a grand adventure might say that," says Aziraphale gently. "I like a good yarn, but if you'd rather not relive it, I understand."

[sporesprouter]

Tress shrugs. "It's fine. It ended up all right in the end, anyway." She looks around and takes a seat. "First, I'm sorry if I won't be the best storyteller. But I know enough at least to start at the beginning." She settles in. "All right. So I grew up on a little rock near the middle of the Verdant Sea. It was just big enough for a town and the duke's mansion on a hill. Nobody was allowed to leave, but that was fine, because I was comfortable there. I washed windows and collected cups and I was content."

[az_fell]

Valiantly, Aziraphale tries his utmost not to look too enthralled. Tress is -- well, she may or not be real, but she's real in this context. But still! "You washed windows," he says. "Of course you did."

[sporesprouter]

She nods. "When I'd get a new cup, I'd take it up to Charlie... Oh, Charlie's the duke's son." Her expression becomes almost impossibly fond. "He pretended he was just a groundskeeper, but he didn't pretend very well. He'd make up stories about the cups, imagine where they'd been. I love his stories. They're wonderful. And then he'd ask me about my day and even though my days were just getting a good deal on fish or other little things like that, he still thought they were interesting." She smiles. "You know when someone just fits like the perfect pair of gloves that you've had for a while and have taken such good care of that you can barely even feel them? That's Charlie."