My writing mojo as regards Gabriel has been on the fritz for a while. I sometimes wonder if I haven't said all with him that wanted to be said when I first took on the character. So, I thought I'd ask his flist: what would you like to see Gabriel write about?
Obviously this would be easier for those of you familiar with the canon to answer, but it's open to anyone. What areas of Gabriel's past and existence (or present, or future) would you like to see explored? I'm utterly open to suggestions.
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.
gabriel * the prophecy series (movie) * word count: 420
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.
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.
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