Kevin Cecil (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
senseandcecilbility) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2013-10-01 10:22 pm
senseandcecilbility) wrote in exsiliumlogs2013-10-01 10:22 pm
action; closed
Date: October 1st
Location: Away from the Observatory
Character: Kevin & close CR who feels like dealing with sad and sick celestial beings.
Summary: The guardian angel of Britain is experiencing technical difficulties.
Warning: Transparent angels?
[Uriel doesn’t need to be at the Observatory. When the time comes, he discreetly slips away on unsteady feet, hand clasping his chest as his whole body is shaken by unremitting agony. Millions of prayers, millions of dreams, millions of lives binding him. Where are you, where are you at a time like this? Who will account for us? Who will take responsibility?
He stumbles into an empty room and falls to his knees. When the first bomb touches the ground, he feels the blast on his very skin. Every single scarred soul, every single pointless loss, he feels their screams perpetuate into infinity. His. He grasps empty air and reaches out for them, uselessly.
Uriel, on the other hand, makes no sound. He would not, even if all wind had not been knocked out of his lungs. His face becomes a mask of silent and desperate shrieking. And for a nanosecond, his divine aura explodes and surges across three different plans of existence, then collapses into itself and all but disappears. What is left is barely perceptible, a frayed and lacerated veil of light for those who can sense such things.
For a brief moment, his body becomes transparent around the edges, and that is when awareness deserts him. Right before his eyelids finally close, he gazes at the walls of the room he has taken as haven, now entirely coated with variegated crystals. ]
(ooc: Since the nuclear attack destroyed his alternate people and territory, Kevin will be a mess for a few days and then recover gradually.)
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As she tucks in the blanket again, he seizes the opportunity to weakly hold her sleeve.]
C-Collette, contrary to what Mister Break and Sister Rosette might think, I was not born yesterday. I--
[He offers her a frail smile.]
Please do not...go tattling about me to demons. I can...keep secrets too.
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She goes still, eyes sliding toward his hand on her sleeve. She swallows, listening to him speak. He's so fragile sounding right now. It makes her heart hurt. She remembers their awkward dance last month, not even three weeks past, and has to swallow again, past a lump that's part grief for what he's acknolwedging, and part grief that comes in seeing anyone she likes and cares about being brought low. )
Aren't you supposed to have been born six thousand years ago?
( She manages at last, offering him a small, quivering smile. She does tug her hand away, not to dislodge him -- he may well hold on -- as she moves her hand to the side of his face. It's to keep him looking at her, even as she forces herself to look him in the eyes.
No one's supposed to know, and by her own chatty mouth, and his own breadth of years, now someone did. )
Which secret of mine are you keeping, Kev?
( She can feel her eyes welling up, that familiar warmth that spoke of tears almost prompting her to blink. She forgoes, hoping her tears won't overflow before he answers. She needs to hear, just to make sure.
And she wasn't crying for her. She can't be that selfish, okay, she'll never cry for herself. it's for him, and for all those people he's supposed to have been able to watch over, and who he couldn't possibly defend against the UE's whims. That's all. That's more than enough reason why to cry. )
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[He sees something shining in the corer of her eyes, and he is quite sure it is not an effect caused by the crystals on the walls. He holds on to her hand as best as he can, but his grip is as frail as expected. He is too cold to offer any real comfort, his aura too damaged to reach her. This poor child should not be here. She should not be here at all, and yet she is doing whatever she can to help. No wonder he once thought she could be one of his.
In a sense, she is more alive than any of those he could not save.]
Secret? [He asks with a warm smile.] My apologies, Collette. I seem to have completely forgotten...
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She only wants people to believe she's alive when she goes home, too. How to explain why she fights so hard to be sent back to death? She doesn't. It scares her.
Her hand slides off his cheek, as warm a caress as it can be with her hands starting to chill. She leans forward and down, bracing against the floor. Maybe it's inappropriate to do what she intends to wiht this angel, but she doesn't know how to say a proper thank you otherwise.
Not for this.
Her hair probably tickles at his face, thick and heavy and wavy, spilling past her shoulders as she bends to press her lips against his cheek, where her hand had been moments before. )
Thank you.
( She murmurs, not wanting the hiss of a whisper, and if a tear or two escaped her blinking eyes, she doesn't pay them heed as she straightens back up. There is important business to attend to, between an ill angel and a dead-but-not-gone girl. )
How long will you be like this?
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Not too long...I-It has never happened before, but I think...
[He is not going to die. He doesn't think so. Not when young master still needs him, and Britain is still waiting somewhere beyond his reach. He tries to raise his hand to touch her tears. She could use his support right now, but he has so little to offer her. It seems he is doomed to fail at every single one of his duties, just like that tiny demon implied not so long ago.]
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( She says, managing a crooked smile. She can swallow past the tears; most of the threat of them she blinks away, tired of the other crying she's done lately. )
You haven't gone through the World Wars yet, or I'd ask how those were for you. Um... I think we'll need you moved. It's too cold here, you should rest and drink plenty of fluids and have something to eat, maybe broth? Not right now, but when you're more -- um. Not transparent.
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[You should prepare me first for this sort of news, young lady.]
I-I believe sister Rosette is...searching for a proper..huh. [Hiding place? He offers her another warm smile.] I...I do not believe this station is rich on proper anything, do you?
But I would welcome the company.
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( She gives his hand a squeeze, not terribly apologetic for the bad joke. )
I don't think Exsilium in any way is rich on proper whatsits and dohickies. If you don't mind me waiting with you until she comes back... I'd like that.
( Still might call people on your feathery butt, angel, if you take a turn for the worse! )
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Thank you for staying…though you are probably uncomfortable in this temperature, aren’t you? [He gives the crystalized ceiling an accusing frown.] They…should have been gone by now.
[He focus whatever is left of his powers on the walls, but no, the crystals are pretty much stuck.]
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( She asks, looking up and around the room. )
They're kind of pretty. ( She doesn't sound entirely sure. )
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[It was the instinctive thing to do, considering the massive attack his senses and people were enduring at the time, but Kevin prefers to keep the grisly details to himself.]
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( Another hint of a smile; after all they've said proper isn't part of the function of this place. )
How do they protect things? I know diamond's hard, but I didn't think crystal was all that hard itself.
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It is a defense against malicious magic. Ordinary crystals have magical and spiritual properties.
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( She considers the crystals. )
Science isn't much of a magic, though, is it?
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Now you are talking like my young master.
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It just seems like you'd need more than a crystal to guard against people's destructive capabilities. Not just humans, either.
( Good as humanity is at hurting itself, it's not the only thing that can, or does. )
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[He is not likely to comment on what would be needed.]
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( ... asked idly, following the train of protective thoughts. What stops destruction? )
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...A miracle.
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Just that? Well. It'll be solved in no time! Only...
( she reflects, less playful now. )
Only that's part of why we can stand against the other things out there in the universe. Maybe that's why we need to be this way. Capable of the worst of things, and capable of the best, too. If we have the chance.
( Why say this around an angel? She's not sure. Unstudied as she is in the particulars of Christian faith, television and film at least spreads the idea that angels are probably as exasperated by mankind as mankind is, let alone as the monotheistic Lord God Above seemed to be. )
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I fear you will not succeed at persuading my kind that doing bad things is an adequate survival strategy. [Well, Lucifer would probably agree, but that one has abandoned the ship a long time ago. And Michael loves babbling about survival of the fittest, but he was all for the deluge.] Two thirds of this world have become inhabitable based on this principle.
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That's not how I meant it, and you know that!
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[He attempts to waves at her, grumpily.]
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Real strong defense there, feathers.
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