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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.]
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.]
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[Someone is very subdued herself.]
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You should understand it better. It is your curse to bear, after all. Angels are not given to short lives and need no understanding of what mortality means.
[That was how it used to be. How it's supposed to be.]
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I meant no offense, Lady Raphael. Nor did I mean to imply that Angels of the Lord should need such understanding. Please, forgive me if I have done so.
Regardless of our understanding, you are right in that we should not destroy such monuments. To desecrate a grave is most disrespectful.
T-think you that all the graves for mortals here are true, Lady Raphael? That the dates inscribed are truly the dates at which we will go either to Heaven or to Hell?
[Not that she's sure she wants to know, but if anyone in this place would know the truth of such things, it would be an Archangel.]
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[Said very firmly. She may herself be taken in by the psychological impact of this event, but she still knows what is and is not real.]
Any one who has died should find a tomb here, but many of them are false.
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Then - then what I saw is only a trick of the Animus? It is false?
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[Unimpressed.]
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But you are correct, he is not. It is more true to say I do not think I can face such visions again, even though they may be false. I - I watched for too long when I came upon the gravestones before, and I saw the story they played out many times. I - I do not think, now that I have had time to reflect, that it was a wise idea.
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[Said without any hesitation and complete conviction.]
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[She gives a very deep curtsy.]
I - I think I would like that. To see Romeo's face was an unexpected happiness, but the context was not.
can she surprise offline?
No, I don't imagine it would be.
Would Castiel's sigils prevent this at all? If they don't, I'm totally cool with it!
[The suicides could have looked more painful, she supposes. At least Romeo seemed content and relatively free of pain when he collapsed beside her in the vision. She still cannot bear to think too long on what she saw herself do.]
oh, derp, you're right
The sigils. Damn them.]
Juliet, I need you to pray to me in order for me to find you.
[Then she turns the device off again, entertaining the idea of feeding it to the giant squid.]
Blame Tybalt; it's all his fault
Of course, Lady.
[She sets her PCD down and kneels on the spot, clasping her hands and lowering her head in prayer.]
can she fudge with the sigils to make Juliet visible to just her?
Hello, Juliet.
I'm fine with it :)
Hello, Lady Raphael. I bid you welcome, and thank you for your kindness.
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This grave. Show me.
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It is not far, Lady. It is close enough that I am surprised and grateful that Tybalt has not seen it.
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[She holds the door open for the archangel, and once outside, leads the way through the mists. They are not as foreboding on this journey because of Lady Raphael's presence. And as she said, it is only a short walk until she comes across the grave bearing her name.]
Here, Lady Raphael. The date of death - that is two days from when I was last home.
[She does little more than glance at it, not wanting the visions from before to rise again if it can be helped.]
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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.
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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?]
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