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lt_safe_house2010-07-06 03:16 pm
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Entry tags:
And the Wind Became Still as Death
Time: May 11th, around mid-afternoon
Place: Outside the Manor
Status: Public if anyone wants to be effected/notice or can be a one-shot
Summary: Raphael plays with his element
Raphael lay beneath the tree, staring up at the clear blue sky. It was a beautiful day in Lower Tadfield, the kind that would send those normally indoor-people outside to enjoy the fresh air and cool breeze.
Rising to his feet, he ruffled his feathers and slowly raised a hand to the sky. He had no powers, not anymore. His presence was weak, almost non-existent. But he was the Prince of the Power of the Air, just like his demonic counterpart. Presence or no presence, he could control his element as long as it existed around him. Air was everywhere.
A wind kicked up, swirling green leaves and dandelion tufts around him. He threw up both hands, concentrating hard. The clouds began to move in quickly, growing dark as they curled above him, covering the sky in a thick blanket. His uneven crimson locks whipped across his face.
A strike of lightning hit a few feet from him, another cracked behind in an explosive flash of white. The rain came down in torrents, soaking through his clothes and his wings and streaming from his stiff body planted in its place.
He brought a hand down, not breaking his concentration. Raphael waved it towards the sidewalk, causing a new swirl of wind to force back the flash flooding roaring onto the grounds. The angry water seemed to slap against an invisible wall, growing higher as the torrent continued to fall.
Large chunks of hail stung his face.
He brought the hand holding back the floods slowly upwards. The other hand he slowly moved down until both were clamped together in front of his face. Raphael whispered in the Angelic Tongue, drowned out by the swirling storm twisting to touchdown before him. The water was immediately sucked into it, as were the leaves and branches twisting together around him. A few feathers came loose from his wings but he held his gaze, not moving but for his clothes and hair.
Then, abruptly, he spread his hands out and the funnel separated. The clouds returned to the skies far away. The water returned to the sea. The leaves floated from the sky like snowflakes.
And Raphael dropped to his knees, breathing heavily, a satisfied grin on his face.
((•))
Place: Outside the Manor
Status: Public if anyone wants to be effected/notice or can be a one-shot
Summary: Raphael plays with his element
Raphael lay beneath the tree, staring up at the clear blue sky. It was a beautiful day in Lower Tadfield, the kind that would send those normally indoor-people outside to enjoy the fresh air and cool breeze.
Rising to his feet, he ruffled his feathers and slowly raised a hand to the sky. He had no powers, not anymore. His presence was weak, almost non-existent. But he was the Prince of the Power of the Air, just like his demonic counterpart. Presence or no presence, he could control his element as long as it existed around him. Air was everywhere.
A wind kicked up, swirling green leaves and dandelion tufts around him. He threw up both hands, concentrating hard. The clouds began to move in quickly, growing dark as they curled above him, covering the sky in a thick blanket. His uneven crimson locks whipped across his face.
A strike of lightning hit a few feet from him, another cracked behind in an explosive flash of white. The rain came down in torrents, soaking through his clothes and his wings and streaming from his stiff body planted in its place.
He brought a hand down, not breaking his concentration. Raphael waved it towards the sidewalk, causing a new swirl of wind to force back the flash flooding roaring onto the grounds. The angry water seemed to slap against an invisible wall, growing higher as the torrent continued to fall.
Large chunks of hail stung his face.
He brought the hand holding back the floods slowly upwards. The other hand he slowly moved down until both were clamped together in front of his face. Raphael whispered in the Angelic Tongue, drowned out by the swirling storm twisting to touchdown before him. The water was immediately sucked into it, as were the leaves and branches twisting together around him. A few feathers came loose from his wings but he held his gaze, not moving but for his clothes and hair.
Then, abruptly, he spread his hands out and the funnel separated. The clouds returned to the skies far away. The water returned to the sea. The leaves floated from the sky like snowflakes.
And Raphael dropped to his knees, breathing heavily, a satisfied grin on his face.
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"I'll pass on the hot chocolate - not exactly my taste. But if you're game for sitting in the bar talking over some mead - or mead and hot chocolate, I'm okay with that."
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He abruptly stopped himself, realizing he was babbling. "We can see if they have mead," he finally said, cheeks coloring. He ruffled his soaked feathers again.
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He walked towards the building at an easy pace, trusting the angel to follow.
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He nodded, stretching hks wings to their full length. "I'm afraid they don't stay in very good shape, since I can't winch them in."
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"Let's go inside first, before we're drawing a crowd," he suggested. Oh, but sparing a bit of warmth for wet feathers was such a handy and easy way of collecing some gratitude. Gratitude went a long way towards loyalty.
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He nodded again and followed.
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That was just as well. He wasn't planning on appearing as much of a threat to anyone - not just yet. These small things were just what he needed to put people at ease.
He gestured to a barstool. With those wings, sitting in a chair would be difficult for the man for sure.
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"Mainly, I wanted to get away from my fellow gods," he said. "If they found me I'd be back in chains with venom dripping in my eyes before I knew it. Thank you very much, I'd rather not."
He moved behind the angel and heated up his hands to just below the point where he would have run danger of hurting the being - or so he hoped.
Carefully, he started pulling them over the moist wings, practically ironing the feathers in place where they were supposed to be.
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"Red wine like Gabriel?" he asked.
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Looking over a Joe he chuckled. "No, I don't drink. Alcohol, I mean. Do you have hot chocolate perhaps?" he asked. "If not I won't mind a Root Beer or lemonade."
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"You look better than last time we met," he stated as he moved back anf orth behind the counter, preparing the hot drink.
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"Now all you need is a haircut, really."
He moved around the angel and sat on the stool across from him.
"Joe, do you have any idea of what happened to the other guy with my name?" he asked as he caught sight of the singed stool behind the counter and was reminded of their barfight.
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His cheeks colored as he raked his fingers through his uneven hair. "Yeah, I uhm... hacked it short." He didn't mention anything beyond that.
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"Care to fill me in?" he suggested finally. "I seem to be somewhat underinformed here."
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"Fortunately my wings seem to be okay. My hair however..." He raked his fingers through it again. "Is a bit of a mess."
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He, personally, saw nothing wrong with the angel's hair, but then again where he came from, hacking off hair with a knife was simply what one did when it grew too long.
"I'd only singe your hair if I tried something," he said anyway. "But maybe there's a hair stylist in town?"
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After all, Michael had been rather forthcoming about ending the world and all...
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New thread?