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lt_safe_house2010-07-02 02:34 am
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Date: May 2, 2003, morning
Place: Trilby's room, third floor
Status: Public (Trilby, Raphael)
Summary: Trilby wakes up.
The young man at the workbench looked at the object before him with a triumphant smile. He had a good feeling about this prototype. It was one thing to build a grappling hook gun; it was another to reduce it to this size, with all the little add-ons that he needed... All he had to do now was name it.
A noise from across the room made him look up. A pale stranger was standing in the workroom. "You have given a great service to Dream of the Endless," he said...
Some time later—it was hard to say, his internal clock must have gone out for lunch—he woke up. Someone had thrown the curtains open and the morning light hurt his eyes. It was difficult to discern that much, though, every muscle in his body hurt. His skull seemed two sizes too small for his head.
All in all, Trilby felt as if he had been thrown headfirst into a waterspout. Which, broadly (broadly) speaking, was close enough to the truth.
"Hmm," he said to the ceiling. His voice was annoyingly faint. "Am I dead?"
Place: Trilby's room, third floor
Status: Public (Trilby, Raphael)
Summary: Trilby wakes up.
The young man at the workbench looked at the object before him with a triumphant smile. He had a good feeling about this prototype. It was one thing to build a grappling hook gun; it was another to reduce it to this size, with all the little add-ons that he needed... All he had to do now was name it.
A noise from across the room made him look up. A pale stranger was standing in the workroom. "You have given a great service to Dream of the Endless," he said...
Some time later—it was hard to say, his internal clock must have gone out for lunch—he woke up. Someone had thrown the curtains open and the morning light hurt his eyes. It was difficult to discern that much, though, every muscle in his body hurt. His skull seemed two sizes too small for his head.
All in all, Trilby felt as if he had been thrown headfirst into a waterspout. Which, broadly (broadly) speaking, was close enough to the truth.
"Hmm," he said to the ceiling. His voice was annoyingly faint. "Am I dead?"
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"No. Not dead," he replied. He placed a cup of water in his hands, clasping it in his own so he wouldn't drop it. "Here, drink this. You're dehydrated."
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Trilby eased himself up into a sitting position before taking the cup, with a nod of thanks. His fingers were clumsy, but he could balance the cup in them well enough without help.
He sipped the water, regarding the entity before him. Questions jostled in his mind for attention, but he settled on, "How long was I out?"
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"I owe you thanks, then," he said. "I wouldn't have been able to pull it off without you and Baraq. I'm..." He hesitated, his pseudonym escaping him for a moment. "...Jon. Jonathan. No apologies needed."
He took another sip of water. "If the spell worked, then how is it you're still..." With a gesture he took in Raphael's injuries and rumpled appearance.
I'm so sorry, LJ is eating my notifs and then my phone mutineed D:
He let them curl around, stretching the jagged feathers, and out of pure habit, began to come his fingers through them, preening his mangled wings back into shape. It was interesting, he thought dimly. He had been able to help and not one drop of his angelic powers had been used, he had used the last of it healing Rose (he really should check on her, the poor dear) and all he had now that distinguished him from a human were wings and a few air-shifting abilities.
It's okay, notifications have been down for everyone <3
He sighed, putting the empty cup on the bedside table and pushing the blankets away. He needed a shower. "I've got a first-aid kit in my luggage," he said, moving to stand, "And a spare shirt or two, they'd be too big for you, but..." A wave of dizziness slammed into him, and he stumbled.
You can email me to let me know I've been tagged if you like :3
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"Thanks," Trilby muttered, with something resembling good grace. He rubbed his temples. "It would appear that opening a rift across the universe and forcing a primaeval force of evil through it actually does have some repercussions," he said dryly. "No, I don't need anything. This will pass in time." He just had no idea how long.
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"That said... I'm not ungrateful, mind you, but surely there are other people in the manor worse off than me? I'll survive a few minutes out of your sight, surely."
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His cheeks colored as he switched on the water as Gabriel showed him. Use the nozzles to adjust the temperature, then...
"YAAAAAY!!"
Scolding hot water darted at him from the showerhead, spraying his face and the hands that had shot up defensively. Fumbling for the handle he managed to turn it the exact opposite way, only to have icy cold water shoot out at him. He lunged for the handle, slipping against the now-wet linoleum. Finally managing to grasp it he shoved it off with a skeetch! and sighed in soaked irritation.
"See?" he finally said. "Told ya it'd only be a minute. And oh look! I did laundry too..."
my kingdom for a facepalm icon
He didn't think it was possible to sleep again after being out for so long, certainly not with the events of the night buzzing in his head or with the stink of blood and ashes and dirt on his clothes, but his mind began to drift, and...
The yelp brought him very firmly back into consciousness. He jolted upright. "What the hell was that?" he demanded. "Are you okay?"
Raphy has that effect on people I've noticed XD
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He sighed. "I'll sleep. I just have to know this first. All you angels in the manor. Did you come here because of the nightmares, or for some other reason?" He hadn't forgotten the satanist chapel, or the conversation he had with Aziraphale.
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Sitting in the chair by Trilby's bed he picked up his Journal. "I'll be right here if you need me," he promised.
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"My brothers are here as well," he continued. "Gabriel and Michael." Who were injured and weary... But alive. Oh thank Father they were alive...
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He paused and worked his jaw for a moment, as if he was unused to the shape of his next words. How often did he actually express gratitude to anyone? Sincerely and unmarred with some smart remark? Not bloody often. "I owe you," he said at last. "Both for this and for last night. If you ever find yourself in need, call me and I'll do what I can."
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