![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Viiiiiideo/Action for Genessia City
How is this...
[You know? Being told he was being banished for a few hundred years, it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. He really expected to be... dead. Really dead. Painfully dead. Or tortured. And dead.
Some combination of the two.
He supposed, grimly, that the Charred Council had just assumed he'd merely been tricked by Abaddon into allowing the End Times to begin early. That the captain of the Hellgaurd had already fallen before this point and the Well Watcher had just been deceived.
He'd say he wasn't that gullible but...
In any case.
This wasn't... what he had expected to see. This wasn't the wasteland he was so sure he'd be thrown into. No desert crafted from the ashes of the dead, no burning city, no massive cemetery.
It was... it was alive, he could scarcely believe it. He'd almost thought perhaps that the hologram in the cave had just been some forgotten technology, there was no way this could happen and yet-
The phone.
Well he'd be a pretty crummy lover of humans if he didn't know what a cell phone was. He really didn't have to ponder too much on how to use it either. Wings awkwardly shifting and fluffing in confusion and silent, frantic hope, he pulled out the device.
He had to see something. He had to know. Standing outside the caves, he evened his voice, prepared his expectations and...]
... Is there anyone else here?
[You know? Being told he was being banished for a few hundred years, it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. He really expected to be... dead. Really dead. Painfully dead. Or tortured. And dead.
Some combination of the two.
He supposed, grimly, that the Charred Council had just assumed he'd merely been tricked by Abaddon into allowing the End Times to begin early. That the captain of the Hellgaurd had already fallen before this point and the Well Watcher had just been deceived.
He'd say he wasn't that gullible but...
In any case.
This wasn't... what he had expected to see. This wasn't the wasteland he was so sure he'd be thrown into. No desert crafted from the ashes of the dead, no burning city, no massive cemetery.
It was... it was alive, he could scarcely believe it. He'd almost thought perhaps that the hologram in the cave had just been some forgotten technology, there was no way this could happen and yet-
The phone.
Well he'd be a pretty crummy lover of humans if he didn't know what a cell phone was. He really didn't have to ponder too much on how to use it either. Wings awkwardly shifting and fluffing in confusion and silent, frantic hope, he pulled out the device.
He had to see something. He had to know. Standing outside the caves, he evened his voice, prepared his expectations and...]
... Is there anyone else here?
Re: [Video]
[... That does get a faint smile out of him though. It's so vague, but its certainly there]
Perhaps at some point, I'd like to hear you sing, if you ever purge yourself of that pride enough.
[Azrael looks over the tombstone, examining the names silently for a moment]
People desire ends, Theodore. Rest. At the end of the day, they happily accept the sister of death, sleep, a temporary, but definite end. People accept the termination of friendships daily, some feeling lighter and happier for it, another form of death, though small.
... And some simply die within. No longer interested in learning, nor growing. It is perhaps, the most tragic death I've come across, and it is always so willingly taken, without even knowing they have accepted it. The refusal to live is an acceptance of death in its most simplistic sense.
[His gaze never lifted from the stone, the silence growing for a time.]
You do well to remember them.
It is through this that they still may live in spirit.
What a burden you have placed upon yourself.
Re: [Video]
[Ted patiently bears the homily right up until that last bit about "living in spirit." He can't be too upset, since it's obvious Azrael means well.]
What my memories have to do with their spiritual liveliness I don't know. Precious little, I should think.
[He folds his arms, then places his hands behind his head and leans back, in a more relaxed pose.]
One thing I've always wanted to do in this place is invite someone I love,
[For the first time since he's been here, he cracks a smile.]
and kill them. Wouldn't that be fine? Far more courteous than self-inflicted death. It's always so damn selfish, perishing alone like that. Were I to dish it out, they'd at least have some company. A great deal more personable, as death ought to be.
[He breaks out of his lean to point towards the slab.]
I'd administer the coup de grace right there, then check to see whose hand, if any, marked it. I'd write such a lovely poem to go with it, too. Iambic pentameter, I think, just like Shakespeare. I'd bury them very nicely, then add some foliage of my own. A white rose ought to do, thorns and all. The deaths so far have been prodigiously prosaic; some poignant poetry would be pleasantly perfect.
Re: [Video]
[The angel just looks to Ted, quiet for a moment]
What would be the purpose behind killing them? What would the intention be?
Re: [Video]
Pffhaha, I suppose that would be some comfort to them. Goodness knows leaving people behind tempts them to be very upset with you.
[And so his effort at upsetting Azrael goes up in smoke. Not, Ted reflected, a very kind thing to do, but there is something about tranquility in the face of death, especially spiritual death, that annoyed him, and so tempted him to undo it. No dice.]
Oh, to save their life, naturally. Self-denial is very death-like. Love, of course, would motivate the deed. It would take a lot of that to go through all the trouble of arranging the killing.
[Ted slightly drooped.]
"Had your fill of this place? I have; love is hard to talk about here, where the world marks the end of its love towards past inhabitants. Or vice-versa. Let's away."
[For some reason, he feels appropriate trying to take Azrael by the hand and making effort at the exit. It either made him feel like a child with a tender adult, or an adult being tender to one of the elderly. Some sympathy towards something young, or something so old it was just as feeble.]
"Tell me, whoever you are, have I been properly loving towards you so far? I'm very sorry if not; you--probably through no fault of your own--annoy me very much."
this has been action for a million years now
Forgive me if it seems I do not follow the thought process. What would you stand to gain from killing them? And how do you imagine it would save them?
[As for the graveyard, he'd had quite enough of it. His own world was nothing more than a spinning, massive cemetery now. He'd do quite well to not be near it anymore. He didn't even argue with Ted's move to take his hand.]
Azrael.
[Short and sweet]
Many at home don't long enjoy my presence either.
[Jaw-dropping Action]
[As the name is given, he clutches his forehead dramatically]
"Oh, don't say that. At least be decent and wait for a prophet to give it out secondhand or something."
[Angel names are supposed to be way cool like that. But then, what things are supposed to be is the crux of the matter.]
"At any rate you are forgiven. But you haven't answered me. I can't have you tattling to God and ruining my chances; got to be properly entertaining.
[Asking for a performance evaluation from an angel he can't quite take seriously. He's gone from marveling in awe to joking in absurdity in record time. Genessia's charming that way. Still, better safe than sorry.]
no subject
[The quip does earn a faint smile, breaking through that ever usual, almost painful somberness.]
You might never hear it otherwise. I don't believe anyone would know me here.
[You're gonna have to deal with your dreams being dashed as far as angelic names go, my guy]
Do you require my approval? How do you imagine you have done? In the end, I could tell you the truth of the matter, and you would be free to doubt me.
[As, he's caught on, has been happening a lot here]
no subject
[Understatement of the year, all years.]
"Well, it's well said, however tamely. Rest assured, if and when I start killing, they shall lose their lives for the very best of reasons.
As you wish, Azrael. Might as well go the whole way: what does that mean?"
[He can at least try to have fun that way.]
"Approval would be nice, yes. You might commend me and increase my glory, say. Pray don't ask me to be my own judge; I'm not at all likely to be objective. Simply tell me truth, come what may. That's what separates you from your fallen brethren, eh?"
[That's always been his policy. It also infuriates 99% of the populace, but you take the good with the bad.]
no subject
Come what may.
I appreciate your help, and I thank you for taking the time to speak with me, and show me the landmarks.
However, assisting me for the sake of my approval, or anyone elses approval, is empty. And I have not missed, Theodore, how many times you have attempted to upset me.
I do not know why you feel you must both ask for my approval, while you also attempt to goad me to anger or irritation.
[He doesn't sound angry.
... It's, as ever, softly sad.]
no subject
[Not quite what he meant, though Azrael's answer prompts a queer look. Knowing Azrael is knowing "true death"? But he doesn't dwell on it long, given what comes next.]
"Nothing gets past you, eh? Eheh..."
[An unconvincing laugh. Even mere approval might've been fuller than the empty sense of duty that compelled him to assist Azrael; an emptiness he tried to fill with frivolity. But now that he's gotten a scolding so gentle it could've come from his mother, he was too shy to keep that up.
Now he's fallen silent, forced to consider the plain facts, which were both bizarre yet chilling, even for Genessia. Here stands an alleged angel who had the nerve to underwhelm him. They simply don't do these things. They, as he'd learned, aggressively carry out God's will. In the Bible they show up, usually to the fear and overawe of any they meet, deliver some prophecy or command, then go back to other duties. Either that or they're someone's guardian, which not even Genessia could deprive. Not this meekness. Not this bewilderment, as if he were yet another forlorn stranger, same as the rest. An intolerable equality.
What's more, angels were of such an intellect and spirit that the least departure from that blazing, perfect image ought to have meant nothing less than full-blown rebellion. He could accept a flaming cherubim, like the one who kept Adam out of Eden. He could accept fallen angels, like the demons. The notion of something in-between was incredible. "I know your deeds; you are neither cold nor hot." Most of the time when Genessia played fast and loose with words, he was content. He'd befriended demons who knew nothing of Satan, and pirates who seemed utterly indifferent to plundering innocent ships. He liked it when the bad things weren't so bad. But when the good things weren't so good? It waned his spirit.
He doesn't know what to do with Azrael. Spit on him and cast him out for a fraud? Flee from him as an unclean spirit? And yet, he did say the words one's supposed to. He did believe, if angels could believe in any meaningful sense. They did, after all, see God face-to-face. He at least adheres to truth, doesn't he? Ultimately, he's right back where he started. The whole thing felt so vulgar and pathetic he could only receive it as some bad joke; so he joked badly in kind. But now he's forced to contemplate that for all his frustrations, he has been inhospitable; not something for any Christian to joke about.]
"...Sorry, I've been rude and impure of heart. Please, forgive me. Now that I've some idea of what you like, let's go to the library."
no subject
He had one duty.
He did it well.
Underwhelming Ted was not exactly a set back or a desired goal, in the end.
As much as he cared for any human... He wasn't created to impress them.
People didn't need flashing lights or blazing trumpets in their final moments, scared and confused, sometimes pathetically alone.
The only thing a dying person needed was someone else, just one person, who could offer peace and comfort for them, and ease them into a final journey.
Azrael had a job. One job.
And he did it well.]
Will you part with me when we arrive?
[A beat]
It is clear to me that your idea of angels does not encompass what you see, and that this conversation, and my presence, weighs on you. If you simply wish to escort me to the library, out of the kindness of your own heart, I take no issue with it.
However, if you suffer my presence as a penance, I would prefer not to be the switch you cut to do it.
no subject
[Azrael had never sounded very enthusiastic about...anything, really, and Ted wondered if Azrael tired of his company.] ' If you want to part, yes.
[For some reason, Ted didn't just yet. A stubborn desire to do twice as good for the sorry preceding effort. But you only get one chance at a first impression. Then he snickered, before turning to a modest, fuller laugh. He's certain that phrase only exists in very specific parts of the world.]
"Cut a switch"? Were you the guardian of a misbehaved, American southerner before you wound up here? Hahaha...
[Comedy that lacked his usual explosiveness. It was more a soothing laugh that washed away meekness. Perhaps that was the angel's doing.]
You are by far the most ridiculous angel I have ever met. And the only, so I suppose I haven't much basis for companion. You know, the Catholics couldn't officially decide whether personal, guardian angels were official. Have I got one? What are they like? It wouldn't surprise me much; by all rights I should have died several times over. Or would that be telling? Come on; the library's this way.
[By the blabber one could tell Ted was already in better spirits. The mockery came from levity now, not disappointment. He's still confused, of course, but figures there's nothing for it but to take it in stride. If an angel will deign to be meek, perhaps God will forgive him for being just as silly.]