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Post by Aziraphale on Oct 29, 2008 15:08:40 GMT -5
"Good night Herbert," *he repeated, his voice stern and a little harsh. It was more of an request to please go somewhere else than anything else.*
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Oct 29, 2008 15:10:47 GMT -5
Herbert slowly let go, looking a little defeated.
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Post by Aziraphale on Oct 29, 2008 15:23:43 GMT -5
*He turned a page in his book hoping that he would just go upstairs or something so he wouldn't have to look at him and see the look on his face.*
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Oct 29, 2008 15:34:20 GMT -5
"I'll- I'll do... something."
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Post by Aziraphale on Oct 29, 2008 21:37:45 GMT -5
"Right. I'll- Well. It's nearly dawn anyway. I'll see you in the evening."
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Oct 30, 2008 2:36:12 GMT -5
"Right," he said softly. "Good morning, then."
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Post by Aziraphale on Oct 30, 2008 21:55:13 GMT -5
"Good morning."
*He watched Herbert as he ascended the stairs, a look of sadness mingling with irritation on his face. He looked away again, sitting back down with a sigh and putting his face in his hands in frustration. That... hadn't gone well at all.*
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Nov 1, 2008 18:02:18 GMT -5
***NEW NIGHT***
Herbert was alone downstairs, still smarting slightly from the earlier argument betweeen him and Aziraphale, when the phone rang.
He was startled, and he reached for it several times, then pulled his hand back again, as though expecting someone else would be coming to get it. When it was clear that no such savior was coming to protect him from contact with this unseen stranger, he finally, fumblingly picked up the receiver and held it awkwardly to his ear.
"...Hallo?" Herbert asked.
No-one answered on the other end, and Herbert began slowly pulling it away to hang up again when he heard a small, tinny voice on the other end.
"Hello, boy."
He realized with a jolt that this call could only possibly be for him- bless Aziraphale, but nobody could mistake him for someone young enough to be called "boy", and Marishka- well, not unless she was wearing one of her short wigs with some really unfortunate clothes...
"Hallo," Herbert repeated. "This is Herbert, I presume?" said the voice on the other end.
He swallowed. Human contact was never his strong point, especially not with someone he couldn't even see.
"Yes, this is he," he said, rather officiously. "May I ask who's calling?" "That isn't important," said the voice, which was a lot less small and tinny when the receiver was at Herbert's ear. "But I'll tell you what is."
The voice was silent for a moment, which prompted Herbert to finally say: "Yes?"
He tapped his fingers against the desk while waiting for a response.
"They're not happy,," the voice said finally. "I'd go so far as to say... unhappy. Really unhappy-" "About what?" Herbert interrupted. "Who's unhappy?" "The Management," said the voice. It was impossible to peg it as male or female, and something about the way it said 'The Management' made it rather difficult to not picture capital letters. "The Managem-" "Upstairs. Aziraphale's employers. Heaven."
Herbert had to stop himself from slamming down the receiver right then.
"Scheisse," he muttered. "And I assume it's because-" "Well, I imagine it's a bit hard to go and stop being a vampire," the voice continued, "and that's what they've really got their shorts in a wad over, but... well, honestly, have you looked at yourself lately?"
Herbert huffed indignantly.
"There is nothing wrong with-" "Look, boy, I've peeked into your file, and there is all kinds of stuff in there I wouldn't be proud of." "I didn't..." (Herbert paused to try to think of what to say.) "I didn't answer the phone to be insulted, you know!"
The voice on the other end chuckled dryly.
"That's what I'm talking about. So much pride and vanity roiling around in that pretty head of yours. Corrupting Aziraphale..."
And then Herbert realized exactly what this call was about.
"They wouldn't do anything to him, though, ja?" he asked. "It's my failing, isn't it?" "Has he done anything about it, though?" the voice shot back. "Not to mention all that... sexual congress you two have been engaging in. He'd better have a good excuse for all this time he's spent enjoying the pretty attentions of a vain vampire-"
Out of fear and worry, Herbert slammed the receiver down.
For a moment, he sat there, staring into space, feeling like he'd just stepped off the world's most lethal Tilt-a-Whirl. He'd always known that his vanity was a particular failing of his- he would never have claimed it was good for him to be as he was- but it was endagering Aziraphale?
He didn't even want to think about what could happen. Not to Aziraphale, no, no, not him...
He sat back again, weighing his options for a moment, and came to a decision.
Herbert climbed the stairs and knocked quietly on the second of the non-Euclidean rooms Aziraphale had added to the second floor.
"Rishka?" he said softly.
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Post by Marishka on Nov 1, 2008 18:07:44 GMT -5
*She opened the door, her brows already furrowed in concern. From the tone of his voice, she could tell that something was wrong. Very wrong. It wasn't a secret that he and Aziraphale had been fighting- you could cut the tension in the shop with a knife- had something else happened?*
"What's the matter?"
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Nov 1, 2008 18:09:58 GMT -5
"I need to ask you for a favor..."
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Post by Marishka on Nov 1, 2008 18:12:40 GMT -5
*She stepped away from the door, gesturing for him to come inside.*
"Of course. Anything."
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Nov 1, 2008 18:17:28 GMT -5
"I need you to cut my hair," he said in a low voice as he stepped into the room. "I don't want to talk about it, I just need it done."
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Post by Marishka on Nov 1, 2008 18:23:50 GMT -5
"... Anything but that. No! Why?"
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Nov 1, 2008 18:26:32 GMT -5
"It's complicated," he said wearily. "Our 'friends' in die Himmels have been watching, and they're... they think I'm corrupting him with vanity and lust or someth- I said I didn't want to discuss it. I just want you to take care of it for me."
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Post by Marishka on Nov 1, 2008 18:31:44 GMT -5
*She looked absolutely horrified.*
"And what is chopping all your hair off supposed to prove?"
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