video;

[expunger]

[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

[expunger]

[Yes. But that's not the point.]

My brothers' fighting nearly ended the world.

[emptynight]

[he speaks before he thinks, because if he'd been thinking, he'd have still kept the relation close. It didn't matter that Harry was dead.]

Funny, mine's saved it a couple times.

[expunger]

This city is rife with those such as you.

Our family ruled the cosmos. It means nothing here, but in my world we are most important people in existence.

[emptynight]

[He laughs at that, a quiet chuckle that isn't quite his usual need to be irritating, but just deeply amused.]

I could say the same to you, darling. Not liking the bigger pond?

[expunger]

[She gives him a strange look at the question.]

Adstringéndum is smaller than my world. I had all of Heaven and Creation to spread my wings over.

[emptynight]

[he chuckles once.]

Just in case you haven't noticed, sweetheart, you're not in Kansas anymore. And like you said, none of that matters here, so why pretend like you're still special if the rest of us aren't?

[expunger]

[She grits her teeth slightly.]

Do you think that repeating inane observations that I already know will accomplish something?

[emptynight]

[All the smirking]

Do you? You still sound like you expect me to be afraid.

[expunger]

What you choose to hear has little to do with me.

[emptynight]

Tsk tsk, darling. You've got to take some responsibility. Can't let me have all the fun.

related: he should start figuring out she has real-people feelings

[expunger]

[She stalks closer to him, suddenly right in front of his face. It pisses her off, and would look better on the ground or down his shirt. In all fairness.]

If I think it wise for you to fear me, it is not because of the vastness of Heaven or a war at home.

Re: related: he should start figuring out she has real-people feelings

[emptynight]

[The sudden proximity is enough to rile the demon, already close to the surface, and Thomas can feel that edge of ice and fire, along with something else, something he can almost recognize. But that isn't what makes him lean backwards ever so slightly.]

Let me guess, it's because you've got strong fingers and will rip my tongue out of my head again.

[expunger]

No. [She leans forward very slightly.] Because I am strong and could find ways to hurt you that defy language and name.

[emptynight]

[His expression grows cold, blank and remote. The memories are there, having hovered at the edge of his dreams, and her words merely remind him of them, of the Skinwalker and its tender mercies]

You wouldn't be the first one, darling. And I doubt you'd be nearly as good at it.

[expunger]

You shouldn't doubt my imagination.

[Her expression curdles into a twisted little smile that looks oddly out of place on her face, almost foreign, too sadistic, then flickers a little as she leans back on her heels.]

Though I see someone has already meted out plenty of pain.

[emptynight]

[His expression remains blank, brittle, even in the face of that smile. Because really, how do you react to that when you have seen the face of true, ancient evil and felt it rip you apart, day after day after day?]

Not your imagination, Buttercup. Your pedigree.

[expunger]

[Wrong word choice.]

My pedigree.

[emptynight]

Wings, halos, flaming swords. I'm sure you know it better than I would.

[expunger]

We do not have halos.

[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.