(no subject)

[gilded-voice.livejournal.com]

Date: November 6
Status: Public
Setting: The lobby
Summary: Aziraphale is leaving.


The Metatron liked chairs in general, but he wasn't convinced that pink was an appropiate colour. Nevertheless, it was at least somewhat comfortable, and provided a good view when he looked up from the book he was reading (initially a discourse on evolution as opposed to creation, now an essay on semiology due to a burst of irritation).

Besides, it was out in the lobby, which he understood people tended to pass through, and it might be an idea to be more acquainted with people. It wasn't that he hadn't meant to previously, it just... had ended up not happening very much. Possibly staying in the room to read those particular books hadn't helped.

Hearing footsteps, he looked up, and blinked. "Aziraphale?"

Comments

[chantinellie.livejournal.com]

"Green's fine." She accepted the towel and blotted her face dry, then flipped her hair (which had taken the brunt) over her head and wrapped it up, securing it on her head with a neat twist. "Thanks. We, ah. Well, we met some time ago, but we don't know--" She crossed her arms defensively, trying for nonchalant. Telling the truth about not sleeping with someone was harder than it sounded; her well-earned reputation for shagging anything on two legs, normally a point of pride, was suddenly a disadvantage. "I mean, in the Biblical sense. We..." She reddened slightly. "Well, drink tea, mostly."

[gilded-voice.livejournal.com]

The Metatron blinked. "You drink tea together?" He considered this for a moment, then added, "You'd think they might say something of the sort. I mean, some people must have done it- or something of that nature- at some point? Certainly you'd expect people of the same side to be doing more than warring with everyone else and begetting."

[chantinellie.livejournal.com]

Ellie blinked. "War and 'begetting'...that's certainly an interesting way of putting it." She smiled, more genuinely this time. "And several centuries out of date, but far more circumspect than the modern euphemisms. But you know they did get up to plenty of other things back then...preaching, for instance...oh, and drinking." She half-perched one shapely hip on the arm of one of the lobby armchairs. "And somebody had to have spent an inordinate amount of time composing all those volumes and volumes of impossibly dry, droning Hebrew law."

[gilded-voice.livejournal.com]

"Really? Well. I... couldn't say I've really noticed." He looked down for a moment. "But I don't particularly think it would be helpful to hear more recent euphemisms," he added, looking up and blinking slightly at her choice of seat. One of those modern things, he presumed. "And yes," he added, "it's just that war tends to stick in one's mind. Repetition should get on people's nerves a little more, perhaps."

He wasn't sure whether to take the last remark an an offence, and settled for a general remark. "Yes, well... sometimes people have decided twenty words can do the work of one. Incredible."

[chantinellie.livejournal.com]

"Hmm, well, maybe adding all that complexity to the rules helps them rationalize the amount of time they spend breaking them." This possibly wasn't the wisest line of conversation for a demoness to pursue with one of the highest-ranking members of the Host, so Ellie added, "But you know, it isn't so repetitive from their point of view. We see them come and go, but to a mortal a war may be a once-in-a-lifetime event. Hard to learn from history when you're around to witness so little of it, I suppose."

[gilded-voice.livejournal.com]

"I thought that was why they'd started keeping historical records," the Metatron said. "Though I would be uncertain that theorising that events might have taken place in alternate ways from generally accepted models would be particularly helpful." He flicked through a couple of pages, and added, "Possibly it could confuse those looking into it."

[chantinellie.livejournal.com]

Ellie blinked again. She couldn't remember whether the Metatron's mode of speech had been quite this hard to follow back in the old, old days. "Perhaps," she said, abandoning her perch on the armchair and edging toward the stairs a bit. "They do say history is written by the victors. Maybe it's a moot point if all they're ever going to hear is one side of the story." She stopped herself before she could follow that line of reasoning right back to the Bible, which (it being a supposedly flawless account of divine revelation) was a sure way to annoy any member of the Heavenly hierarchy.

[gilded-voice.livejournal.com]

"So, then... if they hear tales of victory, then people are likely to continue fighting in the consideration that, because their ancestors won their fights, those fighting now are also likely to win their fights? Is that what we're looking at?" He frowned at nothing in particular. "But circumstances are different each time, so there'd be... the outcome would be..."

He hesitated, turned turnwords Ellie and said, "Different... wouldn't it...? But that's... but we're..." He hesitated. "Um. Well. Ah... perhaps we could... I've got... things I was intending to do, and I'm sure you have too, so... perhaps we could pick up again on this later?"

[chantinellie.livejournal.com]

"Oh, certainly," Ellie said, nodding perhaps a little too vigorously. "I do have to, ah. Do things. I'm sure I'll see you around." She smiled brightly, gave an awkward little wave, and made for the stairs post-haste, hoping her relief wasn't too insultingly apparent.