[identity profile] weary-justice.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] neutral_omens
Date: May 1st, 2001
Status: Private- Raguel and Berith
Setting: The gardens
Summary: Raguel returns to the manor

With yet another Archangel gone, though in a manner entirely different than anyone could have had anticipated, Raguel’s presence had been vital to quelling the resulting alarm and to reestablishing stability. Too busy to give much thought to his own worries, he had comforted, guided, counseled others and taken council himself, given and received reports, and discussed at length the new problems that they now faced in the situation with the Antichrist and his manor.

And now, with a fresh set of orders and a newly calmed spirit, he found himself on Earth once more. He was sorry to return, but he knew that at this moment he was needed here more than anywhere else, and he hoped- believed- that his presence could have a positive effect in the place. That perhaps Uriel’s loss could be the last.

It was strange how the body welcomed him back. He hadn’t expected it to feel so familiar, so nearly... pleasant. And yet there it was.

He found himself walking in the gardens, relearning the movements of muscle and sinew and bone, refinding the balance of gravity and inertia, and even enjoying, in some small way, the experience of smell and sight and sound and touch. He’d had hardly a moment’s respite the entire time he had been away, and knowing that his first action now returned would be the deliverance of a hard ultimatum, he allowed himself some time, just a few earthly minutes, to relax.

Date: 2007-07-14 05:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] smokes-and-lies.livejournal.com
Of course, that would entirely depend on ones definition of relaxing.

Berith happened to be in the gardens as well, wasting time and soaking up sun. Sun-heat was so very different from fire-heat or chemical-heat or any other kind of heat. If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel the vitamins permeating his skin. Fascinating synthesis.

He had avoided most of the people since his arrival. Perhaps it was some sort of resentment at being urged here only to find too many surprises. It wasn't as though he was comfortable at having a friendly chat with the Antichrist (thought making the effort might be something he needed to do in the future), and Aziraphale, the conniving, secretive counterfeit that he was (which was the truest of compliments coming from him), was nowhere that he could account for.

And... the other seemed to have gotten what he needed (likely a holy panic attack, for all the good it would do him), and had not been present in some time. Which he was... thankful for.

So he was spending time adding accents to the garden; flowers typically struck him as rather boring and so he had taken it upon himself to start turning little bits of the foiliage gold. Here a rose, there a twig, a leaf, a root. It gave the gardens a singular look certainly. He would leave it up to others to judge whether or not any beauty was added, for he did not care much to trouble his mind with the thought.

Something that had, for a time, died down in the back of his mind, dull and silent, suddenly started singing shrilly. He turned his head and promptly put his pipe to his lips to puff meditatively and cover his shock at who stood on the other side of the lilac tree.

Date: 2007-07-14 05:52 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] smokes-and-lies.livejournal.com
Huh. And he had been so sure a scolding was in order.

He had also been sure that he would be getting hostile right about now, at least verbally. All this domesticity was going to his head. "Bored," he called over simply, as though that explained everything. Then again, Raguel rarely needed long-winded explanations.

But he was over-simplifying a bit.

Date: 2007-07-15 03:53 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] smokes-and-lies.livejournal.com
He earned a wry smile for his quotation. "Clearly they've never met any real tools of the Devil. If they're going to be idle they tend to be out of human sight."

It was odd to hear him communicate in ways that were so... earthly. When memory of another was locked into a specific plane it made things as simple as sound stand as a testament to how much had changed. Those thoughts were avoided, naturally. They would not help him now.

As for the leaf, the question was direct. And so he could only tell the truth. "Well, that all depends; how do you define special?" He also didn't have to confess all the secrets of his existence on such a light inquiry. If Raguel really wanted to know, he'd have to think a bit on it for himself and ask the right questions.

Date: 2007-07-15 05:17 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] smokes-and-lies.livejournal.com
"Well, I suppose I would have an opinion on that had I considered it when I started," he drawled, placing a fingertip underneath one gilded flower and turning it up to face him. "Frankly, I don't believe I care. Does it concern you for any particular reason?"

He was curious as to whether or not Raguel was sensing how the gold affected humans, but he would not say it. The effort was not something he had come prepared for, and that dictated his actions for the time being.

Date: 2007-07-15 07:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] smokes-and-lies.livejournal.com
Berith might be confusing him. He might not. And that had the ability to annoy him more than all of this isolation had. He used to be better at this game.

Maybe he still was. But the other had a knack for keeping scoreboards hidden and only letting you known how you had done once everything was over. Too little, too late and certainly too silent.

As for the question, it struck Berith as mind-bogglingly asinine that one of the higher ranking officials of Heaven, who had knowledge of such raised levels of existence and philosophy that any normal human getting even the slightest glimpse of his mind would fall into an existential crisis that would last their whole lifetime and then some, could have to ask such a thing.

So obviously, all he could do was smile. "Well, it depends on the size of what you wish to carry. For larger items there are things like suitcases or rucksacks. Women carry purses and men carry briefcases, generally speaking, though there is no account for taste or personal expression. Of course for something small...." Two pockets materialized on the angel's trousers. It irked the demon to do it, but if he had tried to explain Raguel would have likely gotten it painfully wrong.

Date: 2007-07-17 01:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] smokes-and-lies.livejournal.com
Berith did a good job of not laughing. A very good job. Had he only known from the start that that was all it took to irritate him....

Instead, he gave the other a look and started having a conversation with himself. "'Pockets are pouches in your clothes that hold items.' 'You mean like belt pouches?' 'No. They are not hanging on your person, but attached to the piece of clothing.' 'And were are they placed?' 'Most anywhere, but certain places are more practical than others.' 'What colour should they be?' 'Why would you think they should be different colours?' 'Do you have pockets?' 'Yes, I do and no, you cannot examine them.'" He shrugged his shoulders, looking very put-upon. "I was saving time and pointless confusion, therefore yes, I think it was necessary. It is a sad shame that you are so easily... startled."

A smile did crack there. "Of course, you might have said 'thank you'."

Date: 2007-07-17 01:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] smokes-and-lies.livejournal.com
It sounded like whining anyway. Any excessive speech on Raguel's part usually did. But it mattered little to Berith at that point as he was becoming acutely aware of Raguel's confusion at his own reactions. He tried to remember how he had reacted to his own corporeal form for the first few years, but he really couldn't; it was too natural now, to the point that even when he had no corporeal body it was easy to recall sensations, sounds, reflexes. Had he been so jumpy at the start?

Unfortunately, as he was thanked, Berith had the uncomfortable realization that he had no idea about whether or not the archangel was being sincere (nevermind how genuine it sounded - as if any angel ever had a problem appearing to be truthful). Which left him in a spot of trouble on how to react. His fractional pause might have been more telling than he liked before he managed to say, "See? Human manners; they're alarmingly useful on this plane. Particularly in this country. You'll get used to it."

After all, it wasn't as though he could say 'you're welcome'.

Date: 2007-08-06 04:49 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] smokes-and-lies.livejournal.com
"You guess?" Berith repeated, intrigued in spite of himself. "You mean you aren't certain of it? How odd for you." He wandered toward the angel, possibly preparing to follow, though he couldn't be sure yet. "What is it you have to do that would take you out of the sun, then?"

Date: 2007-09-12 03:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] smokes-and-lies.livejournal.com
"It is," Berith agreed simply. It was more for a reaction than anything; see how the angel responded to a demon finding something that much closer to heaven beautiful. "You know, sometimes I wonder if that's how that happens; you all realize that time doesn't apply the same way here that it does up there, so you get a little... comfortable. Then you realize that you spent a little longer than you meant to, admiring foliage."

Date: 2007-09-12 04:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] smokes-and-lies.livejournal.com
Berith shrugged. "I said nothing of the sort. Suppose you could accuse me of having a philosophical moment." He shuddered elegantly. "On second thought, don't."

He ambled over to a trellis and tapped the side to watch it sparkle. "But since lateness is on your mind, I have come to the impressive conclusion that you're avoiding something." It had to be bad news. Angels never waited on trumpet-blowing.

Date: 2007-09-27 06:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] smokes-and-lies.livejournal.com
Hole in one. Not that he was very familiar with golf. That was something that belonged solely to the Scottish, and Berith had never exactly been comfortable around them. Long story. "I had heard," he said tentatively, not wanting to upset the angel and lose this glimmer of information. "People have been rather quiet about it, though. Why?"

Date: 2007-10-22 02:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] smokes-and-lies.livejournal.com
"I'd think you'd be used to it by now," the demon said a touch coldly. He scolded internally; it wasn't going to help if he started that now. Time and a place. Preferably never on both counts.

"Are you expecting to have trouble with the rest?" And he was genuinely curious about that, as the worry seemed to imply it. "Surely they will accept the judgment, as always."


Angels and demons / most people wouldn't believe / how great the sex is.

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