| 247: Mess You've Cleaned Up |
[Sep. 6th, 2008 ~ 11:39 pm] |
I remember Eden. And after Eden, too. Things going downhill. Remember having to show the wretched monkeys all the tedious things they had to know now, since they'd gone and screwed up Paradise.
Things like pruning plants to make them grow healthy. Didn't have to do that before they dirtied Eden with their stupidity. Everything was perfect, everything grew in its ideal form according to its designs, nothing needed trimming or cleaning up 'round the edges.
So I sat there shaking my head over their colossal screw-up, but showing them the needful things: how to cut away the dead and sickly wood from the relatively healthy, for one. And how to slaughter an animal: how to feel for the pulsing beat there in the throat, and with one clean cut open up the jugular to the air. How to dress the meat once the poor innocent beast was dead.
Angel of death, so these things were part of my function, it was deemed.
At first I didn't understand, why me. I resented the task: I resented that I should have to take life from the green-and-growing, or from the gentle-and-animal, because humans had screwed up. Their mistake hit everything. Why should I have to waste my time teaching them the art of murder for the sake of their survival?
It's taken me just a little over four thousand years to get it. But I understand now, I understand what the Name wanted me to get from those long bloody hours of slitting cow throats and cutting branches. Like so much else in His creation, it was a small-scale model for the true act, a parable if you will.
I understand my purpose.
To cut, not only the dead and the sickly, but the sprawl of this human disease that infects this world. To trim away the weeds, no matter how stubborn they grow, how fiercely they cling to their base little simian existences. To put my fingers on the pulse-point of the throat of mankind, and to slice, clean and easy, through the fat, through the mammalian filth, and bleed them out. Slaughter the flock down to a more manageable size.
They're a mess. They are a breeding, sick, amoral mess, and in comparison the offal of the butchered cow is as rubies and emeralds. They are a mess, but I have learned the lesson of the parable and know the necessity of the cleansing I bring.
Like the man says.... it's a dirty job, but someone has to do it.
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 420 |
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| 232: Unkind? |
[Jun. 7th, 2008 ~ 02:31 am] |
Is there a situation where it's appropriate to be unkind?
I fulfill my function.
I am my function.
My functions, rather. I am many things before the throne and away from it, because I travel now, see and take in as much I can, but my responsibilities, my, what I oversee... it's a lot of stuff.
Not that I do it all myself. I outsource to little kids from India.... oh no wait, I already told Ynez that one and she called horse-puckey on it, so never mind. Okay, I don't outsource to India. Guam, now.... There are other angels under the Name who help, and anyways time doesn't work the same way for us, we got more hours in the day than you guys got, we get everything done that needs doing is the point.
( It's a big list. )
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 630 |
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| 230: Black and White |
[May. 28th, 2008 ~ 02:34 pm] |
In the beginning was the Word…
In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.
In the beginning-- in the beginning things were-- so much simpler. So much more straightforward. There was the Light, and there was the darkness. I don’t even say ‘good’ and ‘evil’ because we didn’t have those concepts yet, not then, not at the start of things when each star was sung awake, the void filling with points of glory, first one then another then another, answering flares echoing the first, every sun in the universe coming to life.
What use for words like good and evil back then? We didn’t think that way. We only saw: saw the light, and the dark. The white-- the brightest white, a white so pure, so dazzling, that it cannot be seen by human eyes-- against the black, the waiting cradling darkness that rolls out and out forever, the great ocean in which all the worlds and galaxies are only islands…
So simple, then. White. Black. No baggage, no moral nothin’ attached. Just the beauty.
( Good and evil come later. )
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 789 |
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| 229: Get someone drunk |
[May. 17th, 2008 ~ 05:38 pm] |
If you could get anyone drunk, who would it be and what would you do?
Hehhh. There's prolly a couple I can think of who'd benefit. But. Top of the list is Michael. Little brother mine.
The good son.
The favorite son.
...I love Michael, don't get me wrong. 'Course I do. He's family. We've known each other a, a long time. Long time, eons and eons, and I have never begrudged him his closeness to the Boss; this is his function, the purpose of his creation. To be a little closer to the Father than the rest of us, since Lucifer went the opposite direction. Micha'el: who is like unto G-d.
I don't begrudge him that, I really don't. Don't envy him. And I would not, not for nothing, want to trade places with him. Take on his job? Judgment, along with so much else? No. No thank you. I'll leave that to him.
He's so much better at it, after all.
What you want has made you a walking tragedy, brother. Even Lucifer wouldn't have you. Surprising, since the two of you have so much in common.
Yeah. Yeah. And, he wasn't wrong. I'll grant that; Michael was right. He maybe didn't need to say it with quite so much self-righteousness, but, Michael was right. So I don't have the issue with that so much, anymore. Not with what he said to me or did to me.
(Turned me mortal. Took my name. Did what Lucifer couldn't, hadn't, and broke the mighty archangel, just like that. Goodbye, brother.)
What gets me is that Michael, the favored son, the good son, full of the authority granted him by the Name-- what gets me is not what he did, but that he didn't think it through.
Michael. You could and so you did, with no more consideration than that. It's a common failing among us-- Heaven knows I did it over and over and over again, and maybe if I hadn’t, none of this would ever have happened-- this problem we have, confusing permission with directions. Confusing 'can' with 'should.'
I'm not even saying that it was wrong. That's not my call to make, that's the Name's. But that Michael did it and didn't comprehend, did not really get what he was doing to me... and I know that he didn't understand, and still does not, because--
--it's a long story. It's a long story and I'll tell it sometime, tell how maybe being so very close to the Light has blinded him, my perfect brother, but the simple version is that there is one very uptight archangel in service of the Name. Obsessing over that, obsessing over being the obedient son. Clinging to that.
Would do you good to go on a bender sometime, little brother.
______
gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 453 |
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| 227: Book rec |
[May. 3rd, 2008 ~ 03:58 pm] |
A friend asks you to recommend a book: which book would you choose and why?
*hums to self* The bee-eye-bee-ell-ee, yes that's the book for me, I stand alone on the word of God, the bee-eye-bee-ell-ee...
Oh, hey, what're we doing? Book recs? Right, right, okay...
Well, personally, I'd have to rec a volume that's done a lot for me, you know, a book I found a lot of, comfort, in when I was goin' through some of the not-so-bright times. Book that could always lift my heart, make me smile.... book that spoke to me too, spoke to what I was dealing with right then.
Not just any book that'll do that. Got to be a little somethin' out of the ordinary. Something that has truths in it.
I get that not everybody will agree with it or think it's all true, either. That's, you know, that's up for debate, and I'm not gonna go around saying "it happened like this" or "no, no way, you got it all wrong." Human authors, you know? They do the best they can, with what they got, and if what they have at the end touches even one person, then that's something. And like I said, the book touched me. Your mileage may vary.
So all that being said, let me personally recommend my own, dog-eared copy of yet another version of the Greatest Story Ever Told:
Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal.
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 230 |
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| 225: Without words |
[Apr. 6th, 2008 ~ 02:24 pm] |
"Are you an angel?" she asks me.
A simple question. A yes or no question, really, and yet... I have no words.
For a moment I'm elsewhere, elsewhen. For a moment I'm not here in the Arizona desert, gazing down on a girl-child bleeding her life out into the dust. For a moment I'm back... to what I was...
Memories aren't as sharp and clear as they were the first month, or first year, or even the first five years. Fifteen years now I've been this, instead. Human. This body. This world. Learning about... weakness. Pain. Exhaustion. Need. Kindness. Gratitude. Fifteen years I've been a man-- not much of a man, either, not impressive or respectable or worthwhile as humans are reckoned-- and a lot of what I used to be has faded from my memory.
But for a second, as she asks me, I remember what it was like. To be the angel of the Lord.
( As soon as the memory comes, it's gone. )
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 939 |
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| 218: A lie my Father told me |
[Mar. 2nd, 2008 ~ 10:45 pm] |
It's cold.
I'm dead.
Waiting.
I can remember bullets spiralling through me, one after the other, nicking ribs in their passage. One lodging in my scapula. Lungs perforating. Blood welling in my throat as I tried to finish the sentence I'd started, but then the ground rose up to claim me and then all was cold, and dark.
And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep...
Like that. Reminds me of that time, of the waiting in the stillness for the spark, for the Light. For Him. And He spoke, and all things were good; He named me, He said, You are My child, Gabriel; I love you, from now until the end of time. Forever.
That was a long time ago. And I'm not waiting for the Light, right now; just for my body to get itself together. I've been hurt worse than this before-- bullets aren't so bad, you want real damage, you try getting in the way of a, a battering ram, that took days to come back from. But bullets... maybe an hour, two tops, until the holes knit themselves shut and I can feel again, hear again, see again.
I can wait.
Drifting like this, I got time to think. Think about what I'll do to those who're making this such a hassle. Yeahhh. Danyael. Deal with him. Then the woman, what's her name? Valerie? She and I, we're gonna have us a talk.
Maybe, good Lord willing, I'll run into a couple of the cops who shot me, too. Play some monkey games with them.
The dark is endless. Silence. Peaceful in its way, but I don't like hanging out here too long. Missin' things going on in the world, falling behind on events.
...also...
...I don't like the chance to think. Not for too long.
It's just the dark, just the cold, but it can get to you, it can mess you up-- start you doubting yourself, you know? Thinking thoughts that are crazy. Thinking how maybe, maybe this ain't how it's supposed to go. Thinking maybe I'm wrong.
I'm not. I'm not, but here in the grave, all sorts of thoughts come up on me...
Warmth.
Just the hint of it first, the brush of it against my cheek. And then that first lurch as my heart starts pumping again, and then the lungs... nervous system kicks back on, hearing, one after the other as I start returning to my body.
Vision's the last to come, so even as I'm shifting on the cold hard county morgue slab, even as I'm hearing the coroner rummage around, I'm still seeing the dark.
The last thought hits me before I open my eyes is, He lied.
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 461 |
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| 214: Greatness |
[Feb. 2nd, 2008 ~ 11:01 pm] |
To be great, is to be misunderstood.
Hm. Yeah, I'll get behind that one. I know one being, one Being rather, who is what I'd call great. And yes, He's pretty consistently misunderstood...
I mean, it's not like it's His idea of worship for two groups of monkeys to wipe each other off the face of the earth, but historically you guys seem to, to like doing that. Fighting over which of you is doing it right, which of you has the, the right, to worship... like you owned Him. Like you could lay claim to something like that.
Sometimes I think maybe He went about it... wrong, with you guys. Tried to speak too frankly from the start. I think maybe He's too. Too big for you guys. The prompt says great, okay, yeah. That works. He's maybe too great for most of you to handle, too vast and all-encompassing and infinite and simple. So you complicate, you fuck Him up if you'll pardon my French. With all these arguments, all these boxes you try and put Him in, try and make him just another version of you...
He is bigger than that. I don't want to say He doesn't care-- He does. Every sparrow that falls to the ground. But oh, you want to make out like you're the centers of the universe-- children, you are specks of sand tumbling on the beach before the ocean that is His presence. Busy grinding against each other, never seeing the water itself. Busy twisting His words down into a list of rules you can fight over.
On the other hand, I can't say it's only you humans who have, at times, failed to... understand.
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 277 |
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| 211: Old Acquaintance |
[Jan. 9th, 2008 ~ 01:13 pm] |
Old acquaintance, hm?
...so many. Too many that are no longer around. I could do nothing but list their names for a day and a night and another day and I wouldn't be done.
There's Danyael and Simon and Uziel and and Mosrael and--
You know what? That's. Depressing. Let's not go there. There's nothing I wanna say, anyway, about them. That I haven't already. Not now. Words are either too small or... Let's not go there.
How about the living, hm? Those walkin' and talkin'. Michael's an old acquaintance, couple billion years, that counts as old. But he's also family. Come to think of it, most of the names I could toss out are family, and it's a sad, state of affairs, when your family feels like mere acquaintance. Or maybe outright enemies, like Lucifer.
Of you guys, most of you don't live long enough for me to say we're old acquaintances, if you catch my drift. Firefly flickers.
There's pretty Lilit in her pretty towers. She's not family and we're not enemies (any more), so maybe she counts as an acquaintance, but...
There's a few other long-lived monkeys. And a few characters who aren't monkeys, classify as, as deities or aliens or-- or whatever. It seems like I know most of 'em through work, though. Business. Not really socially.
Old acquaintances...
...you know, I don't think I have any, after all.
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 233 |
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| 209: Fear |
[Dec. 31st, 2007 ~ 12:55 pm] |
What are you afraid of?
Nothing.
Does that sound arrogant, maybe? Boastful? Macho? Mm. Big tough angel, not afraid of nothin'. It's true though, and doesn't have much to do with pride. For most of my existence, fear never was a big part of my vocabulary; who or what can you be afraid of when you are the named messenger of the Almighty God? I remember being angry in the first war-- angry, stricken, uncomprehending, disbelieving... many things... but not afraid.
Fear came later, when I could no longer hear His voice. And I refused to admit that was fear; buried myself in anger once more. What's the line? 'He doesn't get scared, he gives it'? Something like that. Easier to take it out on others, easier to let somebody else feel terror, then face up to it myself.
That was... internal, though, something between me and my G-d. Outside threats, though? I told Lucifer he was nothing; said that to his face knowing he was about ready to rip my heart out.
( I had my flaws, but cowardice wasn't exactly among them. )
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 529 |
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| 208: Four |
[Dec. 30th, 2007 ~ 10:57 pm] |
It depends on who you're talking to, whether you hear four tossed around or seven. Archangels, I mean. Those of us who stand... stood... in the Presence.
The confusion is understandable when you look at how things have gone.
Lucifer first, by a different name in those days of course. Myself. Raphayel. Remiel. So there were four to start with, yeah.
And then Lucifer had to go and rebel.
Screwed up a lot more than just accurate counts, that did.
( We did more than just stand around and look pretty, you know. )
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 980 |
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| 207: Control |
[Dec. 25th, 2007 ~ 04:30 pm] |
Gan 'Eden was retaken by Micha'el's forces nine hundred years gone, though by rights it is Gabriel's. Uriel, who follows Michael, holds Gulgalta, the place of the skull. Raphayel travels, but he did establish a stronghold at Har ha'Bayit, where humans have built the so-called Dome of the Rock.
He and those who have not fallen for the lie-- in Gabriel's mind, it assumes capital letters, becomes massive and monstrous; the Lie-- have chosen instead the empty places, those removed from the creatures this whole war is about. Deserts. Mountains. The poles. Places where the stink of mankind doesn't reach, yet.
It's cold here, on the peak. The wind sings a harsh song through crevasses and across broad rock faces, but the air is clean, free of taint. ( The nearest humans... )
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 1190 |
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| 206: What do you live for? |
[Dec. 11th, 2007 ~ 11:48 am] |
Ah, well, the simple answer is for my Boss. No surprises there. I am the work of His hands, performer of His will. I live to serve.
Lucifer, and others of the fallen, call this slavery. Mindless obedience. They call us pets and dogs and other words besides, having forgotten, or pretended to forget maybe, what it is like...
Have you ever loved someone? Been in love?
Have you known what it is to want to make him, or her, happy? To want to know his dreams, so that you might help make those dreams come true? To want a smile to light her face every time she sees you? Have you ever tried to fix things for no other reason than that it would make the life of your beloved easier? Have you laid awake smiling to yourself in anticipation for the next time you'll see him, or her, and be able to share the news of something you've done that will please him?
Then you know the nature of my obedience. The nature of the thing I live for.
And you know something of what Lucifer can no longer feel, so that he pretends not to miss it, pretends that he is happier without love, pretends that the empty absence of love he has chosen is freedom.
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 220 |
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| 204: Insane |
[Nov. 30th, 2007 ~ 10:22 pm] |
From the moment of existence, of self-recognition, of beginning: a presence. Nearby, right there. Always there. Constant companion, constant warmth. This is the time before words so words do not apply, but if one were to bring every word that has ever applied to a relationship together-- best friend, mentor, lover, father, mother, brother, sister, teacher, boss, beloved-- they would not suffice. All of this and more beyond. Love in all its forms, before that concept is given form independent of This. Of the Presence. The Presence that is always there.
Always speaking/singing/humming alongside, in the heart and in the mind. Instructions. Wisdom and knowledge. Naming. Power. Heat and light. The suns of a million worlds flicker in answer. It is more soothing than the sound of the ocean lulling one to sweet rest, but unlike the ocean there is no ebb and flow, no rise and fall; only the constant eternal steady song. The source of all that is right, the healing for all that is wrong. The Name. There to be served, not as a slave serves his master, but as instruments in an orchestra serve the written music, fulfilling the theme. There to adore, to worship, to love. There to be loved by. There to please and to be worthy of.
The Word, the Name, the Light. The Truth and the Way. Alpha and Omega. Always there.
A hundred billion years or more go by and that Love is still there, in the heart and the mind and in every atom of the self.
Until the day it's not.
Until the day the dischord notes of fear shrill louder than the music, until the day the darkening clouds of envy and anger obscure the light. Floundering in the sudden absence, groping for what has Always Been There but is now lost. Abandoned, it seems. The Presence gone. Nothing could be colder, for this absence is the same thing as the very Void. Nothingness. Endless, eternal absence, a gaping lifeless hole of nonexistence.
Is it any wonder that madness creeps in, to fill the yawning emptiness?
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 350 |
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| 203: Intrigue (edited slightly) |
[Nov. 24th, 2007 ~ 06:00 pm] |
London rain falling, endless grey sheets to drench the city and turn the streets into corridors filled with swarming black beetles, or so the umbrellas look from above. I don't mind the rain; I am comfortable here six hundred feet above the city, perched at the top of the intricate glass beehive that is 30 St Mary Axe. London's not really a tall city, overall, and a good vantage point is hard to come by.
Five o'clock comes and goes, the businessmen streaming out the doors of this and neighboring buildings. I watch the ripple of umbrellas lifted, of the flow and press of figures making their way to the Tube entrance or to taxis or busses. Up here, little of the noise reaches me, little of the honks and humming engines. It's quiet. Two pigeons are using me as shelter from the rain. I could strike up a conversation, I suppose, but pigeons aren't that bright and dialogue never really gets beyond where you might find a two-legged, wingless creature handing out bread crumbs.
Besides, I don't mind the silence any more than the rain. I don't get bored. I watch the city, I watch the people, but my gaze always travels back to the building across the street, to that top-floor corner office with the big windows. The light's still on, of course, people still moving inside. I wait. The pigeons fall asleep.
Eventually there is no more movement in that office, no more people coming in and out in a constant flux. Only one person left, one heartbeat pulsing away in that big room across the way. I stand with an apology for the pigeons, my wings spreading behind me, and step off into space.
As I pass over the street, moving through the rain like a ghost, ( I remember... )
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 3300 |
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| 201: Loss |
[Oct. 29th, 2007 ~ 09:30 pm] |
The last days of June are lost, a total mystery to him beyond the knowledge that this life began in June, he remembers it was June. July passed in a heat haze of incomprehension. It is August in this City of Angels. Waterfront's cool and so that's where he is, this newcomer to the human race, adrift at the shoreline.
Venice Beach, where the police will move you along after too many hours with your hands out, is to the north, the tourists and the natives mingling where the water meets the shore. Once it gets dark he will make his way there, because there is always a fire on the beach, and often food, and sometimes better than either of those is music. Hands slapping hollow hides and holding tambourines, feet kicking in the sand. And then Gabriel can forget, for a few hours, this world he has found himself in, which is so much colder and rougher and sharper than he ever guessed. And this body he has also found himself in, so much weaker, so weak, so needy and fragile.
The music dulls the pain and sharpens it at once: he remembers other music, music of which this is but the most muted and garbled echo, and so he crouches on the sand, just another vagrant in a ragged coat, as if by curling in on himself he could ease the ache in his chest. But for all the pain he cannot stay away. And cannot stop his fingers from shaking, until they must draw forth the trumpet from where he cradles it close to his body. And then the pain comes out, cutting across the drums and home-made tub-thumpers and flutes, a long low heartrending wail of brass that always startles any newcomers to the drum circles.
( They are a tolerant tribe... )
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 9780 (I'M SO SORRY. IT'S A WEEK FOR LONG PROMPTS.) |
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| 198: Superpowers |
[Oct. 1st, 2007 ~ 02:51 am] |
Superpowers, huh? Heh. Have to think about, that...
I guess flight's pretty traditional... but then, already got that covered. Wings, you know. And invulnerability, okay, I am pretty hard to kill. Though I guess you could make the argument I've got more like a, a, a healing factor going on? That's what you call it, yeah? The guy with the claws and the... big hair-- *gesture at the side of face* --he's got it too, I think.
A lot of people ask for strength... but then, I don't have any problems there either. (Which reminds me, I should see about getting some compensation to the LAPD and the Chimney Rock PD for those cop cars I ripped apart.) Speed.... oh, I think I'm fast enough. When I want to be. Okay, so how about enhanced senses-- ah, nope, got those too.
This is harder than it sounds. Let's see. Elemental control? Check. Over fire, at any rate. And call me biased but I've always thought it was kind of the best of the bunch. Hmmmm. We're gonna have to get. A bit more exotic.
Telepathy! Yeah! There's one-- well, wait up, I guess you could say the knowledge I tend to have of your names and where you've come from and where you're more or less headed, I suppose that kind of counts, doesn't it? And I'm not sure I'd want to know more of what goes on in your heads than I already do.
I don't age (well not really), don't need food, or water or air or sleep... shapeshifting when the occasion calls for it... fluent in any language ever spoken anywhere...
Shoot. Forget any more gifts. All I need's a mask and cape.
...
....what do you mean "Archangel" is already taken?
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 296 |
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| 196: One Wish |
[Oct. 1st, 2007 ~ 02:30 am] |
I don't make wishes. I don't... desire things. Not like that, not anymore.
Ask me this twenty years ago, you would have gotten something along the lines of... humanity removed from the universe, maybe. Out of the way, out of the picture, so Dad wouldn't dote on the youngest kids but remember those of us who'd served Him first. Or more narrowly I might have just wished for my war to be won, for triumph over mine enemies, because I saw things in those terms, I thought about what I wanted and how I would change the world and make it good. For my value of good.
Done with that. Got tiring, thinking just about how much of the universe I took up.
Ask me this ten years gone, my scale was considerably narrowed: I would have wished for a hot meal, roof over my head... new socks! How the mighty fall. Yeah.
Those needs don't matter anymore. I don't... need anything, anything at all. And I don't need to be imposing my opinion on any piece of this strange beautiful universe, even the parts I see that are still wrong, sad and messed-up and broken. I look, I see them, but the thing, the thing that I'm learning, is that--
Someone's building a house, okay? An architect is building a house, working away to a plan. And houses got to go up in a certain way, you have to lay the wiring and the pipes and all this other stuff. And this person who's gonna live in the house, doesn't know drywall from plywood, comes to the site and says, man, this place looks like shit, all these exposed beams and insulation everywhere-- and he takes it on himself to fix it, grabs a hammer and nails and a paint can and just starts doing what he wants.
Of course he makes a mess of it. Doesn't know, doesn't understand, the order these things must go in, the way each event shapes others and that foundations must be laid before things of eternal value can be built atop them.
I am not so quick to pick up the hammer and nails, these days. I'd rather... talk to the Architect, take the chance to learn and ask Him why and wherefore. It is not enough to want to change things. You have to understand why they're where they are first. What they're building towards...
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 404 |
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| 195: Heroes vs. Villains |
[Sep. 20th, 2007 ~ 03:12 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | prompts | ] |
| [ | mood |
| |  contemplative | ] |
Heroes and villains, hmm? The things you kids come up with.... sounds so absolute, you know? So definite. You're the Good Guy or you're the Bad Guy, not a whole lotta middle ground there.
If there is one thing I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, it is that people can change. And do. The noblest, the most perfect, the brightest beings in the universe, can fall. If you had told me, back in the old days (and I mean the old days), that someone would turn against the Name, I could have thought of a hundred of the host who I would have called traitor before the Morningstar.
Or myself, for that matter.
( And yet, we both did... )
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gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 666 (oops) |
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| 194: Vanished things |
[Sep. 18th, 2007 ~ 06:11 pm] |
"The true magic of this broken world lay in the ability of the things it contained to vanish, to become so thoroughly lost, that they might never have existed in the first place."
Down from the sun, through the sky white with heat, shimmer-haze rising off this bleached stretch of sand between the water and the rocks. When I touch down, wings folding behind me with a rustle of cloth, the sand beneath my boots is hard, salt-crust, breaks with my weight. A harsh wind from the ocean drives the sand before it, the sand and the salt and the smell of decay from the things that wash up on the barren shore. At first I think I am mistaken, that I have remembered the location wrongly, for there is nothing here but vague mounds in the earth, eroded and mute. Nothing nothing again nothing...
There was... a city here. Not so long, hasn't been so very... two hundred years? ...three. Maybe. Hard to keep track of things as small as years.
There was a city here...
( This place is a nothingness now, a desolation. )
______
gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 775 |
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