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Current Location: Lower Tadfield

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Time: 10 May, early evening
Place: On the road outside the manor
Status: Public
Summary: Another new guest

For the past few days, Jarod had been drifting. He had completed his self-imposed mission on this island and gone looking for something else to strike his fancy. For a hint of another place where injustice had been done and needed someone to right it.. However, nothing had caught his attention just yet, and so he had aimlessly wandered. taking whatever train looked promising, letting himself be taken along in a car or truck for a few hours, then walking a bit.

Soon he came to realise that no matter how randomly he tried to pick his direction, he always ended up moving towards the same area.

It was almost as if some invisible force was calling out to him. He had never quite experienced anything like it.

Well, that was as good a thing to investigate as any.

He was in no particular hurry, though, and so it took him another two days to finally arrive at the place that seemed to exude that pull.

The small town was named Lower Tadfield. On the way, he had seen that there also was an Upper Tadfield, and he had passed an airbase. He smiled in fond memory of flying one of those jets, followed by the not so fond memory of crashing a plane on an island with a blizzard coming up. That he had survived that hat been sheer dumb luck, nothing else. Someone had claimed god had watched over him. He laughed at that.

Now that he was here, he had to decide what to do. He was quite aware that he wasn't looking all that respectable right now. He was wearing leather pants of the kind motorcycle riders often used, knee-high boots and a scuffed leather jacket over a bleached-out t-shirt that had at some point been blue. He carried smarter clothes in the bag over his shoulder, but before he put on a suit he really should take a shower. And shave. And wash his hair.

Not too long back he had come across a man whose motorcycle had broken down. He had helped him fix the thing and in exchange been taken along the last forty miles, almost all the way to Lower Tadfield. But now he had motor oil onhis jacket, on his t-shirt and in his hair. He had not crossed a mirror since then, but he had an idea that there might be some on his face, too.

So, what he needed was a place to get clean and change into proper clothes. A cheap hotel might have done the trick, but it appeared that Lower Tadfield had no such thing.

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Raphael almost almost pouted. His Lord didn't know who he was? Had he been cut off that much from the Presence?

Well, he certainly wasn't going to fuss over it. Later he would fuss it out in his Journal when he was alone and not standing before the Son of his Creator. The man still needed to get cleaned up it looked like and maybe something to eat. Compassion swelled in his chest and he offered what he hoped was a non-threatening smile. "I have a shower in my room if you would like to get cleaned up. I can order take-out if you like as well." Or whatever he wished to come into existence. Angels were flexible.

Oh my. What kind of place had he gotten into here?

Wwell, actually he had something of an idea. How many places were there where costumed men would invite a total stranger to their room?

Basically there were two options.

A.) He was trying to lure him inside to jump him, rob him or whatever. He was sure he didn't look like he had more than a few pounds on his person at best, so unless the other was incredibly stupid he thought he could rule that out.

B.) There was some event going on here that included masqueraded men doing things Jarod had no intention of trying out without some previous study. Of course it might have been just a regular costume party, but then why offer him to shower in his room specifically?

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not here for that."

Well, hopefully that was vague enough - just in case.

He stared, dull green eyes blinking stupidly in confusion. Finally his brain reconnected with his mouth and he spoke. "I didn't... I wasn't..." His cheeks were burning and his wings ruffled nervously. That's all he needed, was to get in trouble for hitting on the Son of God.

"I can find you your own room then," he finally said. On second thought...

Raphael was the Prince of Air. Even in his weakened state, as long as he was was in his element he could bend it to his will. However, it was extremely rare and not something he preferred doing. But in this case...

Stretching his hands above him, he moved them across the air, causing a strong wind to blow dark, rolling clouds in. In the next few moments a torrent of rain came down on them in sheets.

"Uhm..." Raphael's cheeks would have burned if he wasn't so horrified. "Perhaps I did not think this through..."

Well, the man was getting a shower at least.

Jarod shook his head, sending water droplets flying. Great! Now he was getting drenched, too.

What a coincidence that the rain broke loose the moment the man had moved his hands.

"Very well done," he remarked sarcastically. "Now make it stop again, why don't you?"

There was one advantage to being dripping wet. It would be hard to tell for anyone how dirty and sweaty he was underneath.

"Yes Lord."

Raphael stretched his arms out again. It took a bit more effort (clouds were heavier than most people would think) but eventually he moved in a stronger wind to blow the clouds someplace else. Letting his hands drop to his sides and trying to control his now-exhausted breathing, he brushed some wet hair from his face and shook off his wings. The feathers instantly Poof!, looking like two feather dusters sticking comically from his shoulders. He chuckled slightly as his mind flashed with Gabriel's amised grin when he had seen that happen only a few days before.

Gabriel...

"Why didn't Gabriel announce your coming?" he finally asked, his mind trying to latch onto something that didn't cause added confusion.

Gabriel would probably be either the person running the event or the person running that place.

"I didn't call ahead," Jarod said. "Really, I didn't know I was coming here myself until this morning. Also, I'm not her for any kind of event. I wouldn't even have a costume."

He also had never heard about anyone being able to control the weather, but two coincidences like that were hardly any easier to believe in.

If there was one thing that Raphael was slightly vain in, and it was extremely mild at worse, it was his wings. "Lord, my wings are real. I would never be that deceptive..." He gave his head a shake. He must still have a head injury or something. Human corporations can sure be trouble. "It's not a costume, I like wearing robes and..." His blood suddenly chilled to ice as a horrified thought struck him. "You... you wouldn't take my wings away, would you...?"

He let his beautiful wings stretch out to their full length, the gold edges glistening in the light.

He didn't think anything of Jarod's comment on "not calling ahead". After all, Baby Jesus hadn't either... It was His Prophets that spoke of His coming back then. But Father would have at least informed the Archangel of Birth and Mercy to herald the Messiah's return to Earth. What was going on with this guy...?

The man seemed somewhat confused. Maybe he had inadvertently ended up in a place forthe insane? But why they would permit a patient to wear wings like that was beyond him.

"Look," Jarod said, "My name is Jarod. Okay? I'm no lord. I don't think real lords appreciate it if someone else is addressed by their title."

He glanced at the building without fully losing sight of the man, just in case. "Say, do you live there?"

"Yes," he replied, trying to hide his hurt that he was no longer permitted to call the Son of his Creator Lord. But he supposed it was part of being punished. "I do. And so do many others. Gabriel and Michael are here, and so is Aziraphale. Many other beings have found refuge here." He ruffled his wings again, straightening and trying to appear as an Archangel should when being addressed by the Son.

Gabriel should probably have been resting at the time, but he could not let himself lie idle. Thus, he was shelving books in the library.

The pain from his wings had ebbed by now, but they still looked pathetic; the feathers were growing back, but slowly - not surprising, considering that he had ripped them out whole. And the wings as a whole were still a sickly beige colour, rather than the soft blue-white he was used to. Or the cold blue gleam of steel... He shook his head, looking at the spine of the book he was holding -

- and nearly dropped it as he sensed a familiar-but-not-quite Presence nearby.

Leaving the books on his desk, he ran out of the library, down the stairs and through the lobby, skidding to a stop on the gravel walkway. It cut his bare feet slightly, but he didn't notice as he bowed deeply before the grimy young man standing with Raphael.

"Lord!"

The Presence within the Son of God was warm and soothing, and Gabriel breathed in deeply.

Oh, not another one! This one was apparently also in the process of dressing up for the same cosume party. Maybe they had some angel theme for it. Where the red-haired fellow's wings were okay-ish looking, though, the lighter wings of the newcomer were still lacking quite some feathers. Had he forgotten to glue them on? Or maybe they had come off and he hadn't realised.

Jarod pointed and tried to be funny. "Erm.. I think you're molting," he said. "And I'm just a weary traveller, not a lord. I certainly have no invitiation to any kind of party. I was merely looking for a quiet hotel to spend the night."

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Gabriel blinked confusedly. He had known that the Saviour was going to be born, of course, but this time the Lord had chosen to keep most of it a secret. Even Gabriel had not known where the Son was, until now.

He doesn't know who He is, he realised.

"I'm not moulting, Lord," Gabriel replied, eyes searching the Son's face, streaked with grime and motor-oil. "You can stay at the Manor tonight if You wish, and wash up."

Raphael stepped behind the Messenger, head bowed like a younger sibling who knew their place in the family. He waited silently to be addressed by the Son again.

"Then you should do something about those missing feathers," Jarod suggested. Then he sighed again. "I have some experience with props and costumes," he offered. "I could try and fix that for you, and maybe you can direct me to a cheap hotel?"

He had not forgotten the other man's invitation to shower in his room. Whatever these two were, he did not think he was prepared to deal with it right here and now.

Gabriel bit his lip uncomfortably, not wanting to think about how the wings had gotten that way.

"They will grow back, Lord. I assure You, it is no costume. And staying at the Manor is free for beings like us, as long as we don't harm the town or its residents."

Raphael folded his own wings, subconsciously bringing a hand up to touch his braid only to remember it was no longer there. The discomfort in Gabriel told him he was thinking about events that seemed to be all too fresh. Shoving the memories aside he straightened again and wondered why the Son didn't seem to know who they were. Well, he knew why he was unrecognized but what had Gabriel done?

"You... really don't know who we are?" he hazarded.

"I'm not the one you're taking me for", Jarod repeated.

People like them had free room and board here? That brought him back to one of his earlier impressions.

"Why don't you tell me where we met before? Maybe I'll remember then," he ventured. They both seemed honestly confused. Then again, them believing in their own fantasies didn't mean anything beyond just that.

One thing was astonishing, though - they seemed to even control those wings somehow and be able to move them.

Maybe... the thought was almost too terrible to contemplate. Maybe he had stumbled upon another Centre-like facility and these poor creatures were the results of some cruel experiment. "Do you htink I could talk to someone in charge?"

"I know who You are. I know everyone's name. As for how we know You... that's a long story, Lord."

Gabriel gestured towards the Manor lobby. "You can talk to Mary Hodges."

"Who is that?" Jarod asked. "Unfortunately, I haven't heard of her or met her before either, I fear. Does she have," he gestured, "wings, too?"

Maybe that person could at least clear up the situation. He was too curious about this to simply walk away and leave those two to their own devices.

"She'll probably throw me out the moment I drag street dirt over her carpets."

If that were true, I'd have been dragged out a long time ago... he thought, recalling the amounts of blood he'd shed all over the manor. But he held his tongue, even if this guy didn't seem to know what was going on he was still the Son and as such there was a certain way to act around the Son of God.

In all honesty, he wanted to glomp the poor guy and hug him like a child whose father had just returned from a long, long absence. But he kept that in check too, staying behind the Messenger, wings folded properly, and waited until (or if) he was addressed again.

"No, Mary Hodges is human," Gabriel answered. "And if she threw You out, she would have four of us to answer to."

The Son might not know who He was, but the angels certainly did. Gabriel had had to watch the way He was treated two thousand years ago; no amount of motor oil was going to excuse disrespect now.

Raphael nodded his agreement. It would seem they both would be keeping a careful watch on Him -no, the entire Heavenly Army- to keep such things from happening again.

He'd have to find his switchblade.

Now THAT was too much.

"Now you wait a moment," Jarod said. "I do not want any of you to get into any problems, or fights, or whatever else, over me. If I assume correctly that Ms. Hodges is the proprietor of this place, then my presence or lack of it on her grounds will be her decision alone."

He looked from one to the other. "And as far as I can see, you're but two."

If there was another pair of men with wings - glued-on or real - around, he certainly hoped those would show a little more sense.

"Michael and Aziraphael are here as well," Gabriel answered, ignoring the first part of Jarod's little speech. If Jarod chose to leave, Gabriel might have asked if he could accompany the Son of God. "I am Gabriel, and this is Raphael," he gestured to the redhead standing behind him.

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LOL... Great minds think alike XD

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