nightlogs | [Open] The only thing that you absolutely have to know...

Who: Sam Winchester and you!
What: Sam's found his home away from home
Where: The library at the North Pole
When: Relatively soon after arrival, probably post-Branch
Warnings/Notes: Winchester mouth. Updated as needed.

Once Dean was back on his feet, Sam started exploring the North Pole. And, honestly, nobody who knew him would be surprised to find that once he found the library, he kept drifting back there.

Not that it was that easy to find things there. That North has a filing system is undeniable. What's also undeniable, though, is that whatever filing system he has is archaic and likely all in his own head. Which doesn't mean that Sam doesn't enjoy the looking.

Which is why he can be found at one of the tables near the middle of the room, piles of books and scrolls around him and a leather-bound notebook open to his right, pen set in the crease between pages as he bends over another book, head bowed and hand on cheek as he reads.

He glances up as somebody approaches, then leans back with a stretch. "Hey. Any idea how long I've been here?"

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"The war happened back home, too. Lucifer didn't go quietly." Because of course he wouldn't have. That wasn't the way of the Morningstar, after all. "From everything I know, the war was terrible. A lot of angels were..." He pauses, left hand flexing slightly. "Dead. Killed by their brothers and sisters. When the rebels were defeated, Lucifer was cast down and the other angels had their wings cut off and were exiled to Earth, to live among the humans. Though I'm pretty sure that some of the rebels killed themselves before that happened, too."

Lucifer hadn't seen that part. And hadn't really cared, either.

The assurance gets a grin out of Sam. Wan, a little thin. But real enough. "Because of the reasons we're here, I wasn't actually worried about that. We're all here for the same reason, after all."

That is a lot to unpack; there weren't really many deaths during the war, how could there be when the main things that can destroy an angel are God Herself or hellfire, and the latter hadn't been created yet, to be used against each other. It had been possible to kill another angel, to permanently destroy them, but it took far more than just celestial weapons, and as far as he knows, no one was going to the effort for that.

There is, however, a visible flinch when Sam mentions the wings, a hitch in Crowley's shoulders as he draws his own wings in tighter, a sense of sheer horror running through him at the idea of having them cut off. It was one thing for them to burn, he'd take that pain any day over losing his wings permanently.

"Right." He has to say something, to acknowledge that he heard Sam, but his voice is tight and he isn't sure how to follow that up. Now he really wishes he had a drink. "Suppose I ought to be grateful I was only thrown into a pit of sulphur. That's a walk in the park over being dead." Obviously it's the being dead that's a problem, not everything else.

"Anyway, kids are stupid. They could've wanted me here 'cause I'm scarier than the big bad." That's mostly posturing for the sake of it, he just needs to put up a minimal argument with the idea that he's nice or helpful or that kids might find him reassuring.

Sam grimaces sympathetically. "Sorry," he replies, shaking his head. "I should have thought, with the demons having been former angels in your world..."

But he's been too busy digging through memories that aren't entirely his own. Lucifer shared everything when he had Sam for so long. To make Sam sympathize with his side of things at first. Later was...harder.

The insistence that he's scarier than the big bad makes Sam's eyebrow raise, though. A long, long pause before he offers, "I suppose that could be a reason."

This is why he doesn't talk to humans; if Aziraphale had caught him flinching, he would've just made a sympathetic face and moved on, not addressed it out loud. Now he has to wave a hand and pretend like it doesn't matter. "S'fine, isn't a big deal."

It very much is a big deal, but he's choosing to ignore it in favor of making a face at Sam. "Alright, alright, no need to look so bloody skeptical." The audacity of this man. Crowley would be super scary! If he wanted to be.

This is the face of a man who has seen far too much, Crowley.

The skeptical face stays through the 'it's fine' as well, but he lets it go at the end with a huffed laugh. He also lets go of his left hand, finally relaxing a bit again. "Anyway. It mostly seems to be a case of learning the new rules for here at the moment. Which is what the books are all about."

It's official: Sam is the worst. It's almost like he has a brother who does a lot of stupid posturing and pretends to be tougher and scarier than he actual is. It's so wild that he was able to see through Crowley so quickly.

"Learning the rules is for suckers." Says the demon. Who was kicked out of Heaven. "Just figure it out as you go."

"Learning the rules is how you figure out the best ways to break them," Sam replies, picking up one of the books to fiddle with. "Though, in my case, it's partly because I know that the things I know from MY world won't entirely work here. I used to have conversations back on the Rig with Bunny and Dan, figuring out the differences in how our various monsters work. But, obviously, we couldn't get to everything. And with us being back in a world that's so similar to Bunny's, he's going to be busy trying to do his actual job again. But I'm really good at research and there's an entire library here to weaponize."

That's a very Aziraphale take on rules, which tracks for someone who's studying in a library. Everything that Sam says continues to be very Aziraphale, and he also wonders about Bunny and Dan and the rig.

"Have you met Aziraphale? White hair, kind of fussy? He was somewhere else, before this." Not that he's snooping or anything. He might address the rest of what Sam said in a minute, once he's less distracted by his current thought.

Sam shakes his head. "The name doesn't sound familiar, thought I'm familiar enough with the -el/-le endings of names." He has dealt with far, far too many of the angels back home not to know those. Not to mention his own given name. "He wasn't on the Rig, I don't think. Not that I knew everybody there, but I knew most people by sight and he doesn't sound familiar."

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