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lt_safe_house2010-06-03 11:41 am
halosphere.livejournal.com) wrote in lt_safe_house2010-06-03 11:41 am
Raphael is drawn to the Safe House
Time: April 27, around two AM
Place: on the front lawn of the Manor
Status: PUBLIC (anyone up at 2AM who wants to find him catching his discorporation out there)
Summary: A tired and weary Archangel discovers the Manor
Thunder cracked above him, splitting the night in two as the sky wept its cold tears on a dark world. His wings dragged pathetically behind him in jagged streams, the firey feathers jutted in irregular directions. The steady rain had long since washed away the blood smudged on his skin and face, but it still stained his torn clothes in cruel hash marks. His braid was partially undone, the wind catching the crimson strands and whipping it across his face like blood sliced across pale skin; a cruel reminder of what he had escaped from.
Raphael closed his arms around the bunny held protectively against his chest, its dark grey fur touched with blood that was not its own. The Archangel had taken off his labcoat and wrapped it around the miserable creature in an attempt to keep it warm, but the rain had soaked through the once-white fabric rather quickly. By the time Archangel and bunny reached Lower Tadfield it was about two in the morning and both were soaked all the way through, cold and shivering. Still, Raphael kept on, feeling drawn by an unknown force that seemed to tug at his weakened aura.
That force seemed to grow in intensity the further into town he moved. The moment he stepped down a pathway that lead to the front of a large beautifully-designed building it was as if he had stepped through an invisible wall... The rain still fell steadily but he had this strong surge of safe safe safe thrumming through his wrangled body. The relief was so overwhelming it dropped him to his knees, the wet ground shifting beneath his weight. You're safe... You're safe now...
He let out a sigh he hadn't realized he had been holding, curling heavy wet wings around him. The manor looked very elegant, perhaps a resort for the financially well-off. He wondered if he could stay here for awhile, or perhaps maybe just for the night so he could rest his aching body after trudging in the rain for eight hours.
If nothing else, maybe someone would be willing to take the poor bunny from him, perhaps give it a nice meal and a dry blanket.
He closed his eyes, tightening his hold as he surpressed another bout of shivering, and just enjoyed the feeling of being truly safe for the first time since he left Heaven.
((•))
Place: on the front lawn of the Manor
Status: PUBLIC (anyone up at 2AM who wants to find him catching his discorporation out there)
Summary: A tired and weary Archangel discovers the Manor
Thunder cracked above him, splitting the night in two as the sky wept its cold tears on a dark world. His wings dragged pathetically behind him in jagged streams, the firey feathers jutted in irregular directions. The steady rain had long since washed away the blood smudged on his skin and face, but it still stained his torn clothes in cruel hash marks. His braid was partially undone, the wind catching the crimson strands and whipping it across his face like blood sliced across pale skin; a cruel reminder of what he had escaped from.
Raphael closed his arms around the bunny held protectively against his chest, its dark grey fur touched with blood that was not its own. The Archangel had taken off his labcoat and wrapped it around the miserable creature in an attempt to keep it warm, but the rain had soaked through the once-white fabric rather quickly. By the time Archangel and bunny reached Lower Tadfield it was about two in the morning and both were soaked all the way through, cold and shivering. Still, Raphael kept on, feeling drawn by an unknown force that seemed to tug at his weakened aura.
That force seemed to grow in intensity the further into town he moved. The moment he stepped down a pathway that lead to the front of a large beautifully-designed building it was as if he had stepped through an invisible wall... The rain still fell steadily but he had this strong surge of safe safe safe thrumming through his wrangled body. The relief was so overwhelming it dropped him to his knees, the wet ground shifting beneath his weight. You're safe... You're safe now...
He let out a sigh he hadn't realized he had been holding, curling heavy wet wings around him. The manor looked very elegant, perhaps a resort for the financially well-off. He wondered if he could stay here for awhile, or perhaps maybe just for the night so he could rest his aching body after trudging in the rain for eight hours.
If nothing else, maybe someone would be willing to take the poor bunny from him, perhaps give it a nice meal and a dry blanket.
He closed his eyes, tightening his hold as he surpressed another bout of shivering, and just enjoyed the feeling of being truly safe for the first time since he left Heaven.
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The cell activator seemed to be working faster than usual. He feared that that also meant he had less time than usual before it started to do damage.
He took it away.
"I'm sorry, my friend," he told the being in English. "More might kill you after all. It's keyed to me. But with rest and some care you should be alright now."
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She ran back to room 110 as fast as she could and went in. The scene had changed again from what she'd seen when she left. Mr Dawson was there, and Mr von Arcon was next to the bed, lifting the injured being a bit and pressing something to its chest.
Rose just stood there, barely inside the room, still carrying the bottles.
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Minor cuts and lacerations... A few deep, but easily stitched... He had been healed. Mostly, anyway. Turning he looked through strands of damp hair over at the white-haired creature, sensing the egg-shaped device as the source. He smiled and thanked him in his native tongue. Then turned to the others in the room. Joe. Duncan. The werewolf. His smile broadened gratefully.
"Thank you." His voice was hoarse and raspy and it hurt to speak but he was filled with such gratitude for these people he couldn't not thank them. "I am Raphael, Patron of Science and Knowledge." He intentionally left out the bit about being the Archangel of Healing, because in all honestly, he didn't think he was anymore. "Please let me know how I can repay your kindness." He was sitting up on his own now, still bloody, weary and rumpled-looking, but certainly in much better shape. He readjusted his wings into a more comfortable position and winced when sharp pain stung him. Well, the recovery would take awhile but maybe he could stay here...? He wanted to, oh how he wanted to, but he couldn't bring himself to speak his desire out loud.
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Patron of science and knowledge, eh?
Oh, he'd bet he was!
"Take me home," he said, again speaking the empire's language.
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Closing his eyes he focused all his power to the man, feeling it drain from his own weakened one as if it were being sucked away. Come on... Focus! He chewed on his lip, not breathing, not moving, not speaking, only forcing everything into that being.
A bright light erupted and enveloped the man and the Archangel focused the last of his powers on completing what was asked of him. It shoukd have worked, but before Raphael could tell if he had managed to teleport him home the last of his energy left him and his body dropped bonelessly to the bed, crushing his throbbing wings and yanking him into a deep unconsciousness.
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His hand shot to Raphael's throad, feeling for a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief as he found it.
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He knelt down by the bed again. "Let's get him out of those torn things and bind his wounds properly, berfore he wakes up and tries something else."
He was feeling better than he had in millennia. Finally, after all this time, he knew that it was only a matter of a very short time before he was going to go home.
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"I'll try and straighten up the bar," he announced as he left.
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She put the water bottles on the nightstand and took a closer look at the injured Raphael.
"Mr. von Arcon? Is there anything I can do to help?"
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"Why don't you go help with the bar?" he asked, hoping it looked bad enough to warrant two people setting it in order."
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In a dimly-conscious part of his mind still desperately trying to stay afloat in the muck within his mind, he was still reliving the events of the previous day. There was still a bitter young man waving a gun, there was a Hellbeast nearly fatally wounding him. There was a shot fired and blood and death... He whimpered weakly, his chest aching for that poor boy that lost his sister and felt he had nothing else to live for.
"She was all I had!"
"I'm through listening to what you have to say!"
...There is blood... So much blood and death and he took his own life...!
He's dead he's dead he's dead...
"Doctor?"
"...Archangel of Healing..."
"...of Healing..."
"Healing..."
He abruptly turned over and vomitted over the side of the bed, his whole insides feeling as if it tried to squeeze through his raw throat. Nothing really came out (how long had it been since he'd eaten?) but it left him gasping for air that soon lead to tears and finally wracking sobs that seemed to tear through his weakened form.
He took his own life!
He destroyed himself!
He...
What could he do now? What good could he be to anyone?
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"Alright, sir."
And she went to help Joe clean up the bar. She'd have to clean the hallway as well, and the stairs, and the lobby. So much blood. I hope Raphael gets well again.