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neutral_omensDate: March 2, 2000
Setting: In the Manor
Status: Private -- Pestilence and Uriel
Rating:
Summary: Pestilence and Uriel meet again.
Uriel glanced at what he'd written one more time. For all his experience in poetry and pretty words, he couldn't seemingly compose a simple note that would satisfy him. At last, after several failed attempts, he had managed to write something he felt would be suitable. Still, he read it for one more time, frowning in thought.
'Dear Pestilence,
I'd very much like to meet you again. Please arrive to the library as soon as you receive this note; I shall be waiting for you most eagerly.
Yours,
Uriel.'
After a moment's thought he drew a pink rat into one corner of the paper, then started to fold and unfold it repeatedly. Soon he was holding a small paper bird on his palm. Blowing at it gently, he whispered, "Go, little one, and find Pestilence for me. Do not let anybody but him read you!"
He watched as the little bird fluttered down the corridor as he opened the door, letting out little papery chirps every now and then. It was fairly late; he could only hope Pestilence wasn't already asleep or he might not hear the birdt through his door.
Then, Uriel gathered his courage and started to walk towards the library. With any luck the horseman would come there. And even if Pestilence didn't come, he could pass time by reading.
Even though he hardly dared to hope, by the time he finally reached the library his previously cold body was already warm, blood flowing in his veins. He wasn't making a full effort yet - just breathing and allowing his heart to beat; however, he was adjusting himself to be ready for that again.
After all, hope was a virtue.
Setting: In the Manor
Status: Private -- Pestilence and Uriel
Rating:
Summary: Pestilence and Uriel meet again.
Uriel glanced at what he'd written one more time. For all his experience in poetry and pretty words, he couldn't seemingly compose a simple note that would satisfy him. At last, after several failed attempts, he had managed to write something he felt would be suitable. Still, he read it for one more time, frowning in thought.
'Dear Pestilence,
I'd very much like to meet you again. Please arrive to the library as soon as you receive this note; I shall be waiting for you most eagerly.
Yours,
Uriel.'
After a moment's thought he drew a pink rat into one corner of the paper, then started to fold and unfold it repeatedly. Soon he was holding a small paper bird on his palm. Blowing at it gently, he whispered, "Go, little one, and find Pestilence for me. Do not let anybody but him read you!"
He watched as the little bird fluttered down the corridor as he opened the door, letting out little papery chirps every now and then. It was fairly late; he could only hope Pestilence wasn't already asleep or he might not hear the birdt through his door.
Then, Uriel gathered his courage and started to walk towards the library. With any luck the horseman would come there. And even if Pestilence didn't come, he could pass time by reading.
Even though he hardly dared to hope, by the time he finally reached the library his previously cold body was already warm, blood flowing in his veins. He wasn't making a full effort yet - just breathing and allowing his heart to beat; however, he was adjusting himself to be ready for that again.
After all, hope was a virtue.
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