lunchbreaks | inbox | in the night

( Matt has really tried to keep his thoughts to himself since arrival. there's not a priest to speak of, here, no apparent guiding light in the dark unknown that purgatory represents. Matt isn't sure if that's because it is a path he needs to forge on his own, or because this isn't purgatory at all. he doesn't like considering the latter.

he's been trying. he really has. that said, after more than a month, his sins have been burning a hole through his thoughts, from keeping them penned up in his head. Lantom isn't here, but Aziraphale might be something close. and so here he is, testing the waters. )

Do you take confession?

Got another riddle.

Look in my face, I am somebody; Look in my back, I am nobody.

What am I?

hi as someone who has nothing better to do than look through the directory right now you have the best username in the directory just so you know whoever you are

You! You crashed the ferry

A box shows up at the door of the abode of a certain found family trio. Inside are a bunch of walnut-sized balls coated in chocolate. If they're left out in the cold, they'll be tough to chew, but once room temperature they're somewhat soft and chewy, crushed nuts rolled in caramel.

A piece of paper has been folded up and tucked inside.

"Thanks for the scarf.
This is embarrassing, ever since you shared some of that dessert thing a while back, I've been trying to get the hang of this. These were supposed to be cookies. Guess I gotta long way to go.
At least they're tasty.
-Riku"

They're definitely not cookies, these are what you call a delicious cookie fail.

[Left on Aziraphale's side of the bed is a small, rectangular package wrapped in all black with a red ribbon. The tag says "For you. -C." Next to the package is a clean shoe, which contains a bunch of homemade sweets, marshmallows, graham crackers, and several experimental hot cocoa recipes, including peppermint, chili, and others.

Inside the package is a small journal, into which Crowley has transcribed dozens of his own personal poems (with the dates they were originally written on top), written in ancient Enochian, for privacy's sake. Some are about Earth, being annoyed at work, or other things. Most of them are most definitely about Aziraphale. Some are ancient, some are sonnets, others are more beatnik, depending on when they were written.

On the front page is written: "For you. First edition. Share this with anyone and I'll discorporate you on the spot. Love, C" ]

[Ignis couldn't deliver this too early or too late, because it would spoil. He prides himself in his baking and so it is this time as well.

There's a box on Aziraphale's porch, white with a blue bow on it. It contains around 12 mini berry tarts, prepared that same day so they are very fresh, and with a note on it.]

"Happy Holidays. Share with your loved ones and enjoy your evening.
P.S. Box is not to be shaken"

[Xayah wishes she had more time to prepare her gift, but she had to use what she had on hand. A package on the door that reads 'Aziraphale' contains a simple, but pretty white dreamcatcher. She wanted to make a purple one but... that's more her color. The note says 'Merry Christmas, -Xayah" in a bit of a scrawly handwriting.]

A small notebook that’s been filled with cute doodles of flowers and scenic landscapes from Daylight's world. Now and then the pages are peppered with seems to be inspirational quotes from his world as well, focusing on the importance of hope and graces for those who are ‘bright-hearted’ and ‘haloed with good intentions’ and so on. The penmanship is surprisingly pretty: A flowing and elegant script that must have been a pay to be consistent for the entire writing.

‘For the nicest soul.’ is dedicated at the very start of the page when Aziraphale opens it.

[ On the morning of the 25th, Aziraphale will find a pale blue tin sitting, awaiting to be opened. Inside are eight homemade pastries, and tucked inside is a note with Lunafreya's obscenely neat handwriting scrawled on it. The note simply says,

'To my dear friend Aziraphale. This particular holiday is not one I have heard of before, but it shares a great similarity with a winter solstice holiday from home. Thank you for being such a wonderful friend! I pray that these treats find you in good spirits and health, and that you enjoy them.

Yours,
Lunafreya'

The next time Aziraphale visits the post office, the Postmaster General will hand him a letter!

"A letter, written on high quality stationary and in a flowing French script. "Je vous remercie pour le mouchoir," it says, and is signed Javert. There is also a recipe card enclosed, written in the same handwriting, with instructions on how to make French onion soup."

The next time Aziraphale visits the post office, the Postmaster General will hand him a letter from Cao Pi!

"A delightful letter containing several sheets of paper covered in his fluid Chinese writing. Four different poems, one about nature, one about grief and loss, the rest about rather esoteric contemplation. All are in his own nine-line style which can only truly be appreciated when read in the original language. The only note enclosed with them says "As we discussed. I should like to hear your critique."

[Attached is a picture taken just outside the church. It's a small army of tiny snowmen (no taller than 5-10 inches) or perhaps more accurately snow sigillaria. If you look, each snowman has an initial on its belly to correspond to the people Jason considers himself close to. Written in the snow are the words: Happy Saturnalia & Merry Christmas.

He couldn't find enough gifts for everyone he wanted to, so he sculpted these an sent out a sort of Christmas card instead. Of course, the snowmen are still there in person for the foreseeable future.]

[Folded in half in Aziraphale's box, with a tea stain and handwriting not even half as pretty (but still readable, for penmanship is an important skill) is a letter in reply to the first. Which reads:

Dear Aziraphale,
Thank you for the letter! I would happily make time whenever is convenient for you. Shall we meet in the library? Or if you prefer elsewhere, simply say where and when.

Yours,
Rosinante.]

[Quentin fucking loves those letters. They remind him of Fillory and home, and of things that he just can't have anymore but trying to write one back, he's stumped.

There's a pile of crumbled-up notes on the couch as a testament to this and finally, he gives up and pulls his tablet out. Not because writing it here is any easier, but because the light in his lantern isn't changing back and the blood-red light that seeps from it looks malicious.

Also, the tentacles keep grabbing for the pencil, and the text comes half an hour after the letter is dropped by the cabin.]

Hey. Sorry about this and I don't want to worry you. But my lantern is broken and I don't think I have that much time left. Writing you here is faster.

My lantern is broken, and I can't fix it. I think it's falling apart and I think this means I'm dying. It's okay. I just don't want strangers going through my things and the ring is-- was. It was for Eliot and I never got to say goodbye, so. If you'll find it and bury it? Somewhere pretty?

I left it on the bed, along with the only thing I brought from home.

Thank you.

Q

[Set on Aziraphale's doorstep is a small package! Inside, there's a short note:]

Hello. I am Rastus. Thank you for the letter. The ink is nice. Your language is nice. The loops are nice. It is like a painting. I will take care of it.

[There's an indecipherable signature at the bottom. Also inside the package: knitted cozies for Aziraphale's pen and ink jars! That's probably a thing he needs.]

Edited 2020-02-08 21:37 (UTC)

Hi Mr. Aziraphale.

I hope this isn't a weird thing to bring up after all this time but I know you shared the mine visions with Molly and another person. It's why I wanted to reach out to you and inform you of something I believe you have the right to know.

If you can reply back soon, however you want to, that'll be great.

Thank you,
Daylight.

[ Hopefully Aziraphale likes cookies, because Clark leaves some simple, homemade ones for him, wrapped up in wax paper, sealed with a heart-shaped piece of tape, and holding a note:

Dear Aziraphale,

You have a real bright spirit about you. Thanks for sharing it with me and helping me find the piano!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Best,
Clark ]

[ This will be left on Aziraphale's kitchen counter after Sora packs up the last of the chocolates and leaves. Two small paper packets, one addressed to Crowley, one addressed to Aziraphale. Each have three heart shaped chocolates inside, each with its own filling. The packaging on each says, "Happy Valentine's Day! From, Sora."

No other explanation than that. Enjoy your chocolates, Aziraphale! ]

On Friday, when Aziraphale returns home from the races, he'll notice that a few books of his are missing! So is a potted plant. There's no sign of a break-in, but perhaps he'll notice one of the windows is propped open with a large, sturdy stick. There's also, alas, a trail of dirt, suggesting that whoever slipped in and out wasn't that careful with the plant.

[The next time Aziraphale makes his way to the post office, the Postmaster General will excitedly hand him a letter! It's addressed to him! How exciting! There's even a small package attached!!!]

Dear Aziraphale

Many thanks for taking the time to write to me. I must say, your handwriting is impeccable. It is almost as lovely as your gift. Thank you for that, as well. I will treasure it.

However, the thoughtfulness of the gift makes me further regret having to deliver some disappointing news. Although I am capable of creating new portals to other worlds, even now, I hesitate to do so for fear of infecting others with our curse. Should we find a way to truly rid ourselves of the World Eaters, I would have no qualms whatever with attempting to send all of you back to your home, but I fear it will not be that simple.

My portals have no bearing on life or death. They cannot reverse death, and thus a dead entity transported into the land of the living would have disastrous consequences. Should I attempt to send any of you home in your current state, you would arrive as a corpse.

This is not to say we have exhausted all possible avenues of returning everyone to their lives properly; I believe there may be a solution to accomplish this, but at the present moment I am utterly lost as to what that solution may be. I assure you that I will continue to work on the matter, but I do not want to mislead you and get your hopes up, so to speak.

I am heartened by your pledge, and I must assure you that I intend to make my presence known to the town at large as soon as I am able. There are some preparations I must make first. You shall be hearing from me soon, and in the meanwhile, stay safe.

Best,

Dr. Maridel Solis

[Inside of the package, Aziraphale will find a glowing blue rock that fits nicely into the palm of his hand. The attached instructions explain that this is called a hearthstone, and if rubbed between his hands, it will teleport Aziraphale (and only Aziraphale) to his place of residence from anywhere in Beacon! Cool!

But there's a catch: the stone can only be used once before the charge runs out and it stops glowing. It can be recharged, the instructions say, but it doesn't say how.]

TEXT. @HK

gatcha

@regina

@SuprNerd | Private

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IN PERSON

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A GIFT FOR THE HOLIDAYS. (THE 25TH.)

Backdated to the 25th

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Text -- backdated to Christmas

Post office box, after the letter (and certainly after the current event)