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neutral_omensDate: April 1st, 2000
Status: Private
Setting: The manor grounds
Summary: Some things have to change for a certain couple
Rating: G- here, Continued in OO
Status: Private
Setting: The manor grounds
Summary: Some things have to change for a certain couple
Rating: G- here, Continued in OO
Wednesday may have had only one eye, but that didn't mean he was blind. Something had been going on for about a month with Uriel that was more than just bipolar disorder. The angel had gotten up to something.
And Wednesday had a pretty good idea what that something was.
The old god was not , (to say the absolute least), well-versed in the ways of angels. The closest he had ever really gotten were the Valkeryies, and those winged-warrior-maids were a far-cry from the angelic beings of Christianity. Therefore it took him a while to realize that the scent of sex that clung to Uriel whenever he was on his own for longer than five minutes, was not simply the natural scent of angels. It took him a while to realize that Uriel's usually messy hair was, on occasion, a bit more messy than usual. Even longer to figure out that the cause for these conditions was the personification that Uriel had been so distressed about only a month or so before.
This sudden change disturbed Wednesday, and there was only thing that explained the behavior. Obviously the personification had drugged Uriel, or had used some other means to deceive the angel, who was, to say the least, not in top mental condition. Wednesday himself was a con man, and had been one for ages untold. He knew when something didn't seem right that nine times out of ten it wasn't.
He started to observe more, from a distance (which would usually be called spying, but not when it was done by a professional like Wednesday), and to be honest the two "love-birds" were downright obvious. It was a miracle that not any of the other beings in the manor had caught them, but then again they were all very wrapped up in their own affairs, which Wednesday was grateful for on many accounts. The one reason that pertained to the couple, though, was that he figured if the bubble-head angel found out about Uriel's involvement, he would make problems for Uriel, and then Wednesday would have to incur Adam's wrath and lay some Nordic whoop-ass on the angel's red head.
He decided that the best course of action was to skip any intermediaries. He would confront the horseman himself.
It wasn't hard to find the apocalyptic personification. Wednesday had followed the pale being on occasion and the personification had seemed fond of the gardens and lands surrounding the manor. One day Wednesday knew the time was right, his preperations were in place, so he ambled up to the horseman.
"I know what you've been up to, you know," He didn't look at the being, instead just straightened his spine, accentuating the several inches he had over Pestilence.
Pestilence was startled. He had never actually met Wednesday, but from Uriel's description he had a clear idea that the man standing besides him was indeed the old God. Fuck.
"I'm not sure what you're talking about," He turned to face Wednesday. Might as well not pussy-foot around.
"Uriel. You're using him, and I don't take kindly to that."
"I'm not using him. I'm in love with him,"
"Shut your mouth. You might be able to fool him, but I'm a different story. Don't think you can con the con-man," Wednesday turned to Pestilence, a smile on his face. "But, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt if you'll agree to talk with me about it. I'm a fair deity. But not here. Too many other beings around. Why don't we take a walk?"
And Wednesday had a pretty good idea what that something was.
The old god was not , (to say the absolute least), well-versed in the ways of angels. The closest he had ever really gotten were the Valkeryies, and those winged-warrior-maids were a far-cry from the angelic beings of Christianity. Therefore it took him a while to realize that the scent of sex that clung to Uriel whenever he was on his own for longer than five minutes, was not simply the natural scent of angels. It took him a while to realize that Uriel's usually messy hair was, on occasion, a bit more messy than usual. Even longer to figure out that the cause for these conditions was the personification that Uriel had been so distressed about only a month or so before.
This sudden change disturbed Wednesday, and there was only thing that explained the behavior. Obviously the personification had drugged Uriel, or had used some other means to deceive the angel, who was, to say the least, not in top mental condition. Wednesday himself was a con man, and had been one for ages untold. He knew when something didn't seem right that nine times out of ten it wasn't.
He started to observe more, from a distance (which would usually be called spying, but not when it was done by a professional like Wednesday), and to be honest the two "love-birds" were downright obvious. It was a miracle that not any of the other beings in the manor had caught them, but then again they were all very wrapped up in their own affairs, which Wednesday was grateful for on many accounts. The one reason that pertained to the couple, though, was that he figured if the bubble-head angel found out about Uriel's involvement, he would make problems for Uriel, and then Wednesday would have to incur Adam's wrath and lay some Nordic whoop-ass on the angel's red head.
He decided that the best course of action was to skip any intermediaries. He would confront the horseman himself.
It wasn't hard to find the apocalyptic personification. Wednesday had followed the pale being on occasion and the personification had seemed fond of the gardens and lands surrounding the manor. One day Wednesday knew the time was right, his preperations were in place, so he ambled up to the horseman.
"I know what you've been up to, you know," He didn't look at the being, instead just straightened his spine, accentuating the several inches he had over Pestilence.
Pestilence was startled. He had never actually met Wednesday, but from Uriel's description he had a clear idea that the man standing besides him was indeed the old God. Fuck.
"I'm not sure what you're talking about," He turned to face Wednesday. Might as well not pussy-foot around.
"Uriel. You're using him, and I don't take kindly to that."
"I'm not using him. I'm in love with him,"
"Shut your mouth. You might be able to fool him, but I'm a different story. Don't think you can con the con-man," Wednesday turned to Pestilence, a smile on his face. "But, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt if you'll agree to talk with me about it. I'm a fair deity. But not here. Too many other beings around. Why don't we take a walk?"
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