video;

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[Guten tag, Adstringendum. Today's daily dose of lineface angel starts off with fog, fog, and more fog, with Raphael's shape only just emerging through the haze. As muted as she normally is, there's something different today- almost constrained, wilted, a little too tight and a little too quiet. She's sitting on what appears to be the bottom of a set of steps- when the fog clears just a little it's obviously stone steps, like a pyramid or a very tall dais.]

There is a glut of idiocy this week.

[She gestures and the PCD rises, turning to face her at a slightly different angle. Behind her, it shows the stone dais- for that's exactly what it is, large steps of a massive grave, consisting of the huge dais leading to an enormous figure seated in a vast marble throne. The grave is impressive, to say the least. The carvings on it, just visible over her shoulder, are all in a mix of Enochian and Hebrew, including the Hebrew inscription of God's own name.]

It is astounding that any of you can survive on your own in this place, if this is how you handle anything new. [Then her expression tightens more, if possible, something dulling in her eyes slightly.] If you cannot learn for yourself, then know this: the graves should not be destroyed.

[Trust her. It isn't worth it. Her mouth presses into a thin, tense line before the feed cuts out altogether.]

[OOC: she's sitting at the base of fake-God's throne/grave in the middle of a ring of archangel graves, including her own, a destroyed Gabriel statue, a Lucifer mausoleum, and a smoking crater where Michael's used to be. Come bother her, bros.]

Comments

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You find nothing disturbing about the prospect of consuming demon blood.

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You should come.

[To hear the Voice, if only in vision and memory.]

[swordoffate.livejournal.com]

I would like to.



Have you seen visions of Him?

[expunger]

[She answers after a few seconds of staring at the statue; it's always hard to look away from.]

Yes. It is not adequately described by "seeing." [Experiencing their Father was always so much more than that.] Castiel has, too. And Lucifer.

[swordoffate.livejournal.com]

Gabriel?

[expunger]

I do not know.

[Raphael did leave the statue several times, nothing was perfect. When he steps forward she does as well, instinctively putting a hand on his shoulder and gripping hard. It's the same instinct that once upon a time had her shrinking back into Michael's shadow when called into the throne room, that had her nearly collapse against him the day He left.]

Wait for it. You will see something.

[swordoffate.livejournal.com]

[expunger]

[Touching him is even more difficult than being near him; it hurts, more than his presence - like salt water on a wound - does, but she feels the need now, after his long absence that shook her to the core.

After a few minutes, it comes. The familiar feeling, the sweep of Revelation and a dizzying sound like trumpets, the urge to fall to her knees and cringe away and a memory so strong she can hardly stand it. It's so familiar. So distant. This vision is different; it's reminiscent of a memory of Michael, a day when He berated them for being too soft on the angels and instructed them to banish Gabriel for failing to slaughter the Israelites.]

[swordoffate.livejournal.com]

[expunger]

[She was shaken on that day, too; it had been to Raphael that much of the anger (frustration? disappointment?) was directed, and to Michael the confidence and stern expectations. Here, too, she is shaken to the core by this experience (as every angel is, every time, as they Four always were- even Lucifer, in his familiarity, so affected by it for all time) and wants for it to never end.

But this one is for Michael - for them both, but mostly him - and Raphael is a smaller player in the scene that unfolds around them before it blows away on the high winds again like desolation and the setting sun. This time, as every single time, she wants her knees to buckle and to fall to the hard marble to process it. But she doesn't.

Neither does she look at Michael. As soon as the vision dissipates she realizes she's still holding onto him, and pulls away.]

[swordoffate.livejournal.com]

I almost feel the Animus deserve a thank you for this event.

[expunger]

[Raphael, by contrast, feels more alone with every vision or snippet of Voice she experiences. Her gaze shifts from the stone steps, to Michael, to the gaping crater of a grave off to the left. There can be no comfort here.]

I have witness Gabriel's death seventeen times this week.

[swordoffate.livejournal.com]

I have not seen it.



Despite what happens, Raphael, we are all here together.

[expunger]

Being in the same place does not make us together.

[It comes out more forcefully than she intended. Raphael turns away, staring off into nothing with an unreadable expression.]

[swordoffate.livejournal.com]

But it gives us a chance to be.

[expunger]

Do you really expect me to act as if you were only gone for five minutes?

[painhumbles.livejournal.com]

Oh, sorry. Did you want me to wring my hands and get someone to bring me my smelling salts? Look, it's weird, but if it's between that and your vessel breaking down, then by all means, let loose. I'm pretty sure you won't luck out on finding another vessel- there aren't any other black people here.

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[Just staring at him because what the hell?]

You are being deliberately obtuse. [Her tone is almost disbelieving.] I was foolish to say anything.

[The one time she tries to admit to weakness, to needing help- and this is what she gets? See if she ever tries that shit again.]

[expunger]

We do not have halos.

[expunger]

[Raphael doesn't follow so much as walk with her; she never follows, and certainly not humans. Once they arrive, she drops instantly to one knee to examine the stone close-up.]

Romeo. [To her Juliet. Raphael distantly remembers hearing a story once, one that echoed this girl's life. Hadn't there been a man, once? A man who captured the sapphire Earth beneath them in a thousand voices rising up in creative song for hundreds of years? She remembers there was energy in it, there was life. The grandest movements and patterns of the infant race stood out to Heaven in startling clarity; she wonders if the devout Christian standing behind her is the work of one of the truest artists. Perhaps she is. There are stranger things.] This grave holds more substance than most others; it is real in ways my brother Gabriel's grave was, but Michael's was not.

[On her feet again.]

It is real.

[capuletnomore]

[She watches, anxious, as the Archangel looks over the gravestone. She cannot help but be anxious, given that it is possible Romeo's fate lies here before her. And at the Lady's words, she claps her hands to her mouth in horror. She takes a moment to breathe before she speaks. To break down in front of Lady Raphael - she will not disgrace the Lady so.]

Real.... Then, the vision I saw, that is real as well? My Romeo will....

[She swallows hard. She will not weep. Not now. But her voice still wavers.]

He will drink a vial of poison and condemn himself to Hell?

[Why?]

[checkoutpandora.livejournal.com]

[Gabriel sighs in exasperation and grabs her by the shoulder. God, why can't people just get a Gabriel-to-English dictionary and suck it up.] What the hell do you want from me, Raphael? I mean it. If it's keeping you alive, then there's nothing I can say about it. [He frowns and lets go of her shoulder, moving to walk away.] That and it should've been me.

[emptynight]

Oh? I'll keep that in mind for next time. Still, can't change blood, darling. Or whatever you have instead of blood. Distilled hallelujahs.

[swordoffate.livejournal.com]

I don't. And I know that we parted on bad terms.

[expunger]

[Raphael turns a little, not wishing to look at him.]

It has hardly been easy, Michael. This godless, forsaken universe is barely holding together as it is.