lt_safe_house | (no subject)

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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"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.

"Gabriel who?" Jarod asked. He would have assumed these four were naming themselves according to their costumes, but he had never heard of an angel named Aziraphale. He was sure that kind of name would have stuck with him. Of course he had never delved too deeply into mythology. He had not had any reason to, before, and the real world still held wonders enough for him.

He made a decision quickly. "I'm Dr. Jarod Russel," he said, without specifying what kind of degree he claimed to have. He had documentation for a wide variety of them in his wallet. He'd pick a suitable one once he had figured out what this place was.

The Archangel bit his lip. He really had no idea of who they were or who He Himself was, did He? Jesus had always recognised the angels, even when in human bodies and trying to blend in.

A doctor? Gabriel turned to exchange a tiny smile with Raphael, before turning back to Jarod. He still healed people, then.

"I'm Gaḇrîʼēl," he repeated. "Strength of God. Sometimes when I need a surname I use Tiqva." It was a Hebrew word that referred to both hope and faith.

Raphael broke into a smile. He was starting to piece together what Gabriel seemed to already understand. His heart lifted when he heard doctor and his wings involuntarily ruffled in a moment of glee. He was itching to speak but didn't dare speak out of place. After the shower mistake he didn't feel suggesting "staying here" and "would you like some dinner?" would go over well.

And come to think of it, neither would that hug he wanted to give the poor guy. That's all he needed right now, another Heaven-wide incident.

"If you need one?" Jarod asked. "You mean you don't have an ID card or anything?"

He had been under the impression everyone had them. Some, like him, even had several of them, with several names and identities. Another indication that this might be a shelter, an asylum.

"Well," he said. "Let's see if this Mary Hodges is around, shall we?"

"Not at the moment, but if I need to use one I'm sure I could produce one," Gabriel smiled. "She's in the lobby, at the reception desk."

He stepped aside for Jarod to go in first.

Jarod felt anything but comfortable turning his back to the two. Something was definitely off about them.

"After you," he suggested.