impudentsongbird: (i can fly)
Gabriel ([personal profile] impudentsongbird) wrote2012-08-20 08:38 pm

let me be the one you call / if you jump I'll break your fall

Book Four: Dark Days
1 | into the breach
2 | finding skulduggery
3 | retreat to the tunnels
4 | into the cacophony
5 | sanctuary in the cathedral
6 | reuniting old friends
7 | kenspeckle's new patient
8 | holy water and disinfectant
9 | objecting to china sorrows
10 | the roadtrip
11 | baffling guild
12 | shenanigans at the safehouse
13 | reassuring fletcher
14 | valkyrie's intervention
15 | solomon's revelation
16 | visiting the edgleys
17 | recalled to the sanctuary
18 | guild's confusion
19 | gabe is busted
20 | the psychic tattoist
21 | envisioning the cacophony
22 | angel's first migraine
23 | the morning after
24 | china and solomon
25 | detectives' council of war
26 | china's foolishness
27 | the collector dethroned
28 | finding crux
29 | skulduggery's vileness revealed
30 | sorrows in aftermath
31 | finding equilibrium
32 | the devil's number
33 | at the carnival
34 | meeting authorities
35 | solomon's confession
36 | the stray soul
37 | sanguine unsettled
38 | solomon's choice
39 | a cowboy underground
40 | in scarab's basement
41 | striking midnight
42 | craven contested
43 | emergency services
44 | on your feet
45 | and don't stop moving
46 | easy recognition
47 | a deuce of an evening
48 | engines roaring
49 | compromising judgements
50 | solomon's conflict
51 | axis turning
52 | thinking circular
53 | blasting the past
54 | reviling vile

Book Five: Mortal Coil
55 | sanctuary unsanctified
56 | shudder unravelling
57 | catching an angel
58 | layering dimensions
59 | dead men meeting
60 | when it rains
61 | power plays
62 | sing on gold
63 | the valley of death
64 | grand aspersions
65 | no evil feared
66 | new days rising
67 | angelic neuroses
68 | step-brothers working
69 | the many sorrows of china
70 | peacefully wreathed
71 | tarnished gold
72 | the secret in darkness
73 | magical intent
74 | scars worth keeping
75 | benefits of a beau
76 | grand magery
77 | lighting the darkness
78 | old dogs and new tricks
79 | flouting traditions
80 | drawing lines
81 | brothers and sisters in arms
82 | channelling angels
83 | return of the carnies
84 | the death bringers
85 | meriting agelessness
86 | knick knack, paddy
87 | give a dog a bone
88 | americans propheteering
89 | the right side of honour
90 | tailored shocks
91 | hosting angels
92 | elders anonymous
93 | rediscovered strays
94 | changings and changelings
95 | a state of reflection
96 | adding hope
97 | the devil's truth
98 | dead mens' hospitality
99 | lives half lived
100 | next to godliness
101 | devilish plans
102 | beached angels
103 | lights of revelation
104 | heroes worshipped
105 | new devilries
106 | angels under the yoke
107 | brains frozen
108 | father, mother, daughter
109 | parental guidance recommended
110 | driven round the bend
111 | ongoing training
112 | privileged information
113 | reasonable men
114 | passing the buck
115 | gifting magicks
116 | strengths and weaknesses
117 | immaturity's perks
118 | priests and prophets
119 | scaling evil
120 | blowing covers
121 | marring an afternoon
122 | lie detection
123 | five-dimensional pain
124 | reliving nightmares
125 | taking stock
126 | sampling spices
127 | sleeping prophets lying
128 | rueful returns
129 | dead men reunion
130 | medically-approved hugs


The life of an angel was a contradiction in changes and stability. On one hand, they understood very well the way the cosmos was shaped by events within it. On the other, they stood at one step apart from it—or at least had, for a very long time, up until their Master's recent wager with Lucifer. Changes in the recent past had, even for angels, been fast and turbulent, but there were none that concerned Raphael more than Gabriel's abrupt reserve.

In the aftermath of the wager Gabriel had been almost the only one to know where their Lord was at any given time, a fact which had put the Archangel very firmly under Lucifer's radar. Raphael had joked that Gabriel ought to arm himself with more jokes or worse clothes to drive the fallen angel away; Michael had offered the peace of the Garden Coast. (Rafe thought his idea was better.)

Either way, even though their Master was fair hidden, every angel knew that they had only to ask Gabriel and the Archangel would pass on a message.

Then Gabriel had simply blipped off the radar himself. Poof! Gone! No one had noticed at first, because, well, they weren't exactly in constant connection. It was just when Raphael had taken a whim to seek out his younger brother that he'd noticed it, and let it be, because there was absolutely a reason for it. Gabe did not just off and vanish, except that once with his self-exile, and that didn’t count.

But when Gabriel had come back, he had been strangely agitated and yet close-mouthed. The younger Archangel had vanished off to wherever their Master was hidden for a long chat Raphael was dying to have listened into, and yet couldn't (but only partly because it would have been rude). Now he was here, floating among the stars and examining a black hole with unnerving intensity.

For a time Raphael watched without letting on that he was there, but eventually Gabriel spoke. “I’d rather you came to join me instead of lurking, brother.”

Absolutely refusing to feel chagrined, Raphael let himself manifest with an arm around Gabriel’s shoulders and ruffled the younger angel’s hair. Gabriel threw a fond, longsuffering glance up at him, but there was something in his eyes, something distracted and sharp, which indicated that Gabriel still wasn’t truly present. Raphael only wished he knew where the other Archangel was.

“Just wondering what you’re doin’ all the way out here,” he said teasingly. “There’s a party going on down there on Earth, Gabe.” There was always a party going on down on Earth. “You oughta be down there bobbin’ for apples and switching up party-hats!”

“I can’t,” Gabriel said quietly, with a sort of seriousness Raphael had, for all Gabriel’s literalness, rarely heard from him. So Raphael fell into the same seriousness, lost his playful accent, and spoke directly.

“Why not, brother? You’ve been reserved of late. I conf—I’m worried for you.”

For a very long time Gabriel said nothing and stared into the slow-turning swirl of the black hole. Raphael waited patiently, his arm still companionably across the other Archangel’s shoulders. Eventually Gabriel spoke. “Did you know, Raphael,” he said, “that the universe you see around you here isn’t the only one our Master has created?”

Raphael was so startled that he couldn’t answer. That wasn’t what he was imagining. He hadn’t been sure what he’d been imagining, but that wasn’t it. “I’m not sure what you mean, Gabriel,” he said after a moment. “Our Lord told me the story of Creation not all that long ago, and he never mentioned anything of the kind.”

Gabriel nodded. “He told me that story as well. And then He asked if I really wanted to know details.” He hesitated. “I … admit, I declined. It’s something He said—about faith. I decided I didn’t need to know details. But it’s true, nevertheless. Just beyond this …” The Archangel reached out his hand and touched that gossamer and unbreakable fabric that supported reality. “There are other universes, even with different versions of us.”

“Different versions of us?” Raphael repeated, appalled and uncertain and entirely confused. How could that be possible? What could their Master want with more than one of any of them? What was going on? Where had Gabriel gone in that time he’d vanished? Then something occurred to him and he smiled with relief. “This is a joke, right?”

Gabriel looked up at him and smiled back with such a gentle understanding that for a moment Raphael felt very small indeed. “No, Rafe. I’m not joking. It was a shock to me too. That isn’t the point, though.”

“Isn’t it?” Raphael asked, feeling as dazed as an angel possibly could, especially when he wasn’t even inhabiting an actual physical body.

“No.” Gabriel returned to watching the black hole intently. “I met some people from other realities. One of them is in a kind of Hell, and he very much does not deserve it. I promised him that, if I could, I would save him from it.”

Which did not in the least explain why Gabe was staring at a black hole, let alone a million other questions Raphael would have liked to ask and for which he couldn’t find the words. Finally he found one. “How?”

“First,” Gabriel said with a sort of tranquillity Raphael had heard in his brother’s voice a million times but never after delivering so turbulent a piece of news, “I’m going to jimmy open a crack in the door through this hole.”

Raphael stared at Gabe, and then at the black hole, and then back at Gabe. He opened his mouth to ask whether their Master knew he was planning this and then closed it, because that was a stupid question. He opened it again to query if Gabriel had asked whether he could go around lifting the sheets and then realised that was also a stupid question, because whether he had or not, their Master probably would have told him to do what he felt was best.

It was equally clear that Gabriel very much planned to go through with this, no matter what Raphael said, and really, did Raphael have the right to object? Surely if this carried a risk, their Master would have already forbidden Gabriel from making the attempt?

“I’ll come with,” Raphael said at last, and this time when Gabriel glanced back the younger Archangel’s expression was startled. A moment later that expression shifted into grateful apology.

“I’m sorry, Rafe, but I’m not entirely certain I’ll make it through, and we can hardly leave Michael here alone.” He grinned. “Did you see what he was wearing last festival day on the Garden Coast? He hasn’t moved out of the eighteenth century yet. How would he possibly handle the rest of the world?”

Raphael laughed out loud, warm but startled, and the sound of it rang through space. Gabriel chuckled quietly beside him, and for a few minutes there was just companionable humour that faded into an equally comfortable silence.

Still, Raphael had a lot of questions. How did Gabriel plan to find his friend, let alone the universe he was in? How was he going to get back? What would he do if he met another version of himself? Or, worse, Lucifer? Finally the Archangel just asked, “Have you figured out how to crack open the door?”

“I think so,” Gabriel said, considering the black hole. “Once I figured out what to look for. I wouldn’t have gotten even that far if it weren’t for some things our Master said.”

Which meant that, in some fashion, this expedition was sanctioned by their Master, Raphael translated, and something tense in him relaxed. “Something do to with this drain here, I’ll bet,” he said, falling into his casual accent once more. “Gonna rip out the kitchen sink, li’l brother?”

“Just to see what’s hiding underneath,” Gabriel said with a grin.

“I’ll try’n keep it open for ya,” Raphael promised, and Gabriel sent him a smile which lit up the very space around them with its brilliance.

“Thank you, Rafe,” he said, and straightened. Raphael took his arm away as Gabriel lifted his hands, not exactly stepping back so much as giving Gabriel space. The youngest Archangel didn’t often reveal his power, but it was always a sight to see, a song to hear, when he did.

As it was now. Gabriel’s voice started deep, lifted high, split and wove and became more melodies than one would think a single being could possibly sing at once. The sound of it made Raphael’s heart soar, made him want to fly and laugh. It was so deep, so light, so resonating that it was physical; it touched the slow turn of the black hole and made it, for just the briefest of moments, still. In that moment Gabriel sent a carefully-aimed bolt of energy into the heart of it.

It was the kind of sight Raphael hadn’t seen in thousands of years, a play of physics and metaphysics which he hadn’t thought possible, let alone imagined. There was an eruption in the centre of the black hole, where gravity was condensed; the cascade of energy plumed upward and was dragged back down as quick, a tear in the fabric of the reality not allowed the time to widen or become a danger.

Raphael didn’t even know Gabe had moved until the younger Archangel was gone, he was so busy staring in awe. With a start the Archangel stretched out his senses and just barely managed to catch a glimpse of his brother shooting toward the hole at speeds few angels could have achieved through such a gravity well. Raphael certainly couldn’t have.

How, he suddenly wondered, was he meant to keep that open if he didn’t even have the speed of thought to track Gabriel’s movements through it?

Desperately the Archangel cast about for something to jam in the door, as it were. There was some dark matter nearby and with a thought he fashioned it into a spear and pitched it toward the centre of the black hole. It struck just as Gabriel flitted through the crack nearly wholly collapsed in on itself; the star’s gravity caught it, pulled it in, and plugged the opening like a metaphysical sink.

Slowly Raphael made every part of himself relax. For good or ill, Gabe was gone on this quest of his, and now Raphael should probably go and round up some of their younger siblings to guard the area. Just in case.


Book Four: Dark Days

into the breach | finding skulduggery | retreat to the tunnels | into the cacophony | sanctuary in the cathedral | reuniting old friends | kenspeckle's new patient | holy water and disinfectant | objecting to china sorrows | the roadtrip | baffling guild | shenanigans at the safehouse | reassuring fletcher | valkyrie's intervention | solomon's revelation | visiting the edgleys | recalled to the sanctuary | guild's confusion | gabe is busted | the psychic tattoist | envisioning the cacophony | angel's first migraine | the morning after | china and solomon | detectives' council of war | china's foolishness | the collector dethroned | finding crux | skulduggery's vileness revealed | sorrows in aftermath | finding equilibrium | the devil's number | at the carnival | meeting authorities | solomon's confession | the stray soul | sanguine unsettled | solomon's choice | a cowboy underground | in scarab's basement | striking midnight | craven contested | emergency services | on your feet | and don't stop moving | easy recognition | a deuce of an evening | engines roaring | compromising judgements | solomon's conflict | axis turning | thinking circular | blasting the past | reviling vile

Book Five: Mortal Coil

sanctuary unsanctified | shudder unravelling | catching an angel | layering dimensions | dead men meeting | when it rains | power plays | sing on gold | the valley of death | grand aspersions | no evil feared | new days rising | angelic neuroses | step-brothers working | the many sorrows of china | peacefully wreathed | tarnished gold | the secret in darkness | magical intent | scars worth keeping | benefits of a beau | grand magery | lighting the darkness | old dogs and new tricks | flouting traditions | drawing lines | brothers and sisters in arms | channelling angels | return of the carnies | the death bringers | meriting agelessness | knick knack, paddy | give a dog a bone | americans propheteering | the right side of honour | tailored shocks | hosting angels | elders anonymous | rediscovered strays | changings and changelings | a state of reflection | adding hope | the devil's truth | dead mens' hospitality | lives half lived | next to godliness | devilish plans | beached angels | lights of revelation | heroes worshipped | new devilries | angels under the yoke | brains frozen | father, mother, daughter | parental guidance recommended | driven round the bend | ongoing training | privileged information | reasonable men | passing the buck | gifting magicks | strengths and weaknesses | immaturity's perks | priests and prophets | scaling evil | blowing covers | marring an afternoon | lie detection | five-dimensional pain | reliving nightmares | taking stock | sampling spices | sleeping prophets lying | rueful returns | dead men reunion | medically-approved hugs
peacefullywreathed: (are the sounds in bloom with you?)

[personal profile] peacefullywreathed 2013-03-11 10:43 am (UTC)(link)
"There is," Solomon said, his gaze trained on the angels in the corner, "one very obvious solution to that: we use angel statues." Gabe blinked a little, startled, and Rafe made a face, but Merlin's soul was scudding with snow across its banks as if with a gentle breeze. Contemplation.

"Public awareness of angels," Solomon went on, "changes somewhat, it's true, but at their most basic they are God's soldiers and messengers to man. That means any angel imbued with some sort of awareness will be inherently submissive to a greater purpose. No offence."

The last was said toward the Archangels, and this time it was Gabe making the face. Rafe gave a rolling shrug. "Sixty-five million years without a clue I could choose to have a pizza for breakfast, man," he said. "Sounds legit to me. 'Course, that don't mean I couldn't decide what I'd have on the pizza if I could have one, if y'get me."

"The last thing we want is to have things with angel powers running around the Sanctuary," Corrival pointed out. "Other than actual angels, I mean." A beat. "Actually, no, we don't particularly need them either. No offence."

The last was said with utmost asperity, and this time Rafe's 'None taken' was echoed by Gabe as well, the younger Archangel suppressing a chagrined smile.

"They won't," Kenspeckle said. "Things like this won't become what they represent, simply take on the behavioural patterns of such. The risk in this case is the public belief of angels being rather, er ..."

"Smitey?" Corrival suggested dryly.

"Precisely. But even then, they'll be bound to a greater purpose. In this case, protecting the Irish Sanctuary."

"So at least they'll be smitey in our favour," Corrival mused. "I might be able to live with that. Anyone else?"
skeletonenigma: (adjustingthehat)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-03-11 12:16 pm (UTC)(link)
"Actually," said Skulduggery, the first to speak up, "that solves several problems quite nicely. Never mind the public perception of angels. Right now, half of the sorcerers in the world are on the lookout for... I believe the phrase was 'divine figures in white' protecting us from some unknown threat." His skull tilted a fraction towards Gabe and Rafe, the meaning of which was lost even on Valkyrie. Probably some kind of amusement, though. Both the Archangels were about as far from divine white as it was possible to get. "To say nothing of the international Sanctuaries. And through no particular fault of our own, all eyes are turned towards Ireland. We do seem to be the place where things happen."

"They don't know how right they are," Erskine nodded.

"But they could. The angel statues. White statues of angels as the new defenders of the Irish Sanctuary? Thanks to these world-wide visions, no one would question it, and no one would be looking for real angels anymore. It's so neat, it works out better than the real thing. No offence."

Valkyrie raised an eyebrow at him. "You do realise anyone coming in for the first time is going to have no idea why statues of angels are watching their every move, right?"

"Your point being?"

"People are going to think you're arrogant beyond belief."

"That we're arrogant beyond belief. Like it or not, Valkyrie, you're in on their inception too."

"So we're just going to have statues of angels walking around the Sanctuary? Around Dublin?" Tanith asked. "Would they be able to talk? Because that might get a little... weird."

"It doesn't really matter, does it?" said Erskine. "Personally, I'm looking forward to having a team of Smitey McSmitertons being all smitey in our favour. Unless anyone has any objections, in which case you'd better have a better plan to go along with it."

Skulduggery didn't say anything. Neither did Valkyrie, and she was only half surprised not to hear anything from Tanith or Ghastly either. China, on the other hand, looked like she was about to say something, but thought better of it. Her face was impressively clear of any doubts she felt, but Valkyrie knew she was feeling them. China made it clear back in the church she didn't want anything to do with any of them anymore. Yet here she was, getting dragged back into issue after issue, barely putting up a fight. Now, she'd have to deal with hundreds of statues of the very thing she was trying to avoid. Of course she was feeling doubts.

The fact that she chose not to voice them spoke volumes more than her voice ever could.

Erskine nodded once, satisfied. "Excellent. Then the only question is what we call them. 'Cleavers' seems a bit undignified. I vote for Smitey McSmitertons, myself."
peacefullywreathed: (tread careful one step at a time)

[personal profile] peacefullywreathed 2013-03-11 12:40 pm (UTC)(link)
"Aw, but I wanted to use that as my Taken name," Rafe whined. "It's perfect, and y'all have one. I think I should get one. I like that one."

"It suits you," Gabe said with a nod. "Clunky and inelegant, and completely without hidden depths."

"Exactly. Hey!"

Solomon suppressed a smile at the angelic brotherly scuffle happening in the corner and turned toward Ravel. "Seems a tad exotic to me," he said dryly. "I was thinking perhaps--"

"Seeing as we should probably keep some semblance of sanity, at least so we can lure the poor bastards of other nations into our trap, we'll just call them the Host," Corrival cut in, amusement in his tone. "China, I imagine their creation will be more your field than Grouse's, but any help you can render would be appreciated, Professor."

"As long as the Council of Elders remembers that this meeting still has a consultation fee," Kenspeckle snapped, sounding a little disappointed that he wouldn't actually get to help more.

Rafe looked up front the corner, in the process of trying to put Gabe in a headlock and not quite managing it because the younger Archangel kept deflecting Rafe's wings with his own. "Hey, does this mean the meeting's over? Is it time to go have fun now? Y'all ready for the carnie?"

"I think we've done enough for the first day," Corrival agreed. "Someone send out a Cleaver for Tipstaff. We'd better let him know before we disappear, or we'll have to train up a new Administrator after his aneurysm."

"And he was being broken in so nicely," Solomon murmured.
skeletonenigma: (tie)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-03-11 02:33 pm (UTC)(link)
"It would probably look bad if one of our underlings died on our first day in office," Erskine agreed somberly. "Equally bad if we were all out at a carnival in the meantime. People might start to question our eligibility."

"You mean they haven't already?" Skulduggery couldn't quite stop himself from saying.

"Watch it, dead man. I sign your paychecks now."

Skulduggery nodded. "Which makes me first in line to question your eligibility."

"It also makes you first in line to investigate us if we're not, which means that unless you toe the line, you'll be fielding all of the foreign dignitaries demanding our immediate removal from office. Don't you forget that."

Skulduggery let out a theatrical sigh. "So now I'm being blackmailed into covering up your messes for you? How delightful."

For all the light-hearted teasing, however, Skulduggery couldn't have picked a better Council of Elders. The fact that none of the three of them even wanted the position in the first place meant that they were perfect already. Genuinely concerned, demonstrably capable, each of them with a strength in a different area. Not to mention Skulduggery was on good terms with each one. More of his requests might actually be looked at, and what's more, granted, without Skulduggery having to explain himself. Or fight tooth and nail. All in all, this couldn't have worked out better if he'd planned the whole thing.

"I'll skip the carnival, if nobody minds," China announced to the group. "Particularly if we only have a few days to set this up."

"You sure it's not just because you don't want to get your shoes muddy?" Valkyrie teased.

"Oh no," China answered blandly with a look at the teenage girl. "You've found me out. These are new shoes, and I'd really rather not ruin them. Fletcher, if you'd be so kind?"

Fletcher glanced towards Skulduggery, who nodded. "Go ahead. We'll be here. I don't suppose there's any way I can get out of this, too?"

"Dear God, no." Valkyrie shot Skulduggery a smile and grabbed his skeletal hand. "I want to see you ride one of those small roller coasters. Plus, you look handsome when you have a face. Plus, I'm sure God would drag you there Himself if He could."

All valid points, really. Skulduggery's next argument deflated before he could form it. "Fine. After you, Smitey."

On Skulduggery's other side, Ghastly stiffened. "No. I refuse to call him that."
skeletonenigma: (straighten out the suit)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-03-11 09:05 pm (UTC)(link)
The flight was, as it had been every other time, disconcerting for the fact that there wasn't any dizziness afterwards. Not like there was with Teleportation, anyway. That was likely due to Fletcher's power working by moving reality around himself, effectively making travel time nonexistent, which the human body was never meant to handle. Angel flight had travel time, which disappeared in the blink of an eye without being rendered nonexistent. It was like falling asleep during an airplane flight. Your body registered the difference, if not quite your mind.

What this all boiled down to was that in less than a second, they were in the middle of the carnival grounds, with barely even a stumble. Behind a set of hot dog booths, fortunately, and away from prying eyes, but Skulduggery still felt oddly exposed without his usual hat-wig-scarf ensemble already set in place. His hand brushed the sigil Gabe left on his breastbone, and Skulduggery's original face flowed up over the skull, snapping into place with a soft hum.

All of a sudden, Skulduggery quite remembered what it felt like to be starving. The smell of hot dogs on the breeze really didn't help. And he had to shield his eyes with one hand against the glare of the sun, bothersome in a way it hadn't been for centuries. "Paddy still has my sunglasses," he realised out loud. "We'll need to go back and reclaim those."

"You don't need sunglasses now," Valkyrie complained, arms crossed. "Your eyes need to twinkle again."

"I'll bear that in mind."

"Also, the roller coaster takes photos at the end of the ride, on the last turn. You should have your facade down for that. I want people to try and figure out how we doctored that photo in two minutes without touching it for years to come."

"And then my deadliest enemies would know right where to find me. I'd rather not. Never overestimate a mortal's ability to rationalise, either."

"There's a photo booth over there," said Valkyrie, pointing down to the other side of the carnival. "Private photos. Just sayin'."

"You were here a few days ago," Tanith said to Ghastly. "What's worth trying out?"

"I don't know." Ghastly's brow furrowed slightly. "I wasn't paying much attention to the carnival. I know where you can buy a My Little Pony backpack, and that's about it."

"My Little Pony?" Skulduggery asked, one eyebrow happily raised again, while Tanith burst into laughter.

"Don't ask. I also know where you can play a fishing game. Or where you can win teddy bears. Otherwise, I'm clueless." Ghastly's puzzled expression cleared suddenly, and he turned towards the two Archangels. "Any chance we could pick up two people at the Dublin Methodist Hospital? They could certainly do with the cheering up."
Edited 2013-03-12 00:37 (UTC)
skeletonenigma: (look at you!)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-03-12 02:35 am (UTC)(link)
"I don't know those people." Skulduggery frowned as he followed Ghastly out onto the grass. "I know all of your friends. Why don't I know those people?"

"Because you don't know all of my friends," Ghastly told him with a teasing grin. His own facade was up as well, clear skin covering all of the scars, leaving him looking like a perfectly nice bald-headed gentleman whose well-tailored clothes fit him perfectly and whose head almost gleamed in the sunlight. There was something in his eyes, too. Not quite a twinkle, but... an awareness, almost. Like he'd just figured out something that was bugging him, and the realisation made him quietly happy. He wasn't going to have to worry about China's half-hour time limit, Skulduggery knew that much. With two angels and Merlin nearby the entire time, there was no chance of it slipping no matter how long Ghastly wore it.

"Skulduggery?" Fletcher had frozen beside him. "Isn't that the cabbie?"

"Hm?"

"The cabbie. You know. The guy we played I Spy with on the way to Myron Stray's house a few days ago. Isn't that him?"

"Barney?" The sunlight was annoyingly in the way, so Skulduggery had to squint to see better. It was such a foreign feeling that he couldn't help letting that get in the way as well, and it delayed his recognition of the cabbie - who was, indeed, Barney - for a few seconds longer. "You're right. What a strange and most definitely unplanned coincidence."

"You planned this?" Fletcher swiveled his head to stare at Skulduggery.

"Me? No. Two Archangels behind me, Merlin buying hot dogs for us, and a mysterious Creator running around behind the scenes, though, just might have. Why are you accusing me of setting this up?"

"What's going on?" Valkyrie asked as she joined them at Skulduggery's other side. She frowned. "Wait a minute, that's..."

Ghastly blinked; first at her, then at Skulduggery. "Does anyone here not know them?"

"I didn't know his daughter," Skulduggery reassured Ghastly. Why the tailor needed reassurance was a bit of a mystery, but Skulduggery was more than happy to offer it. "I knew he had one. I knew she was most likely sick. I didn't know she was terminal."

"What makes you think she's terminal?"

"Children in wheelchairs at a carnival with a nurse waiting on them hand and foot often are. Hello there, Barney. I see you took my advice."

Barney himself was approaching them behind his daughter's wheelchair with an expression bordering on outright and unmitigated shock. His eyes had traveled slowly over each of them, flickering with differing levels of recognition each time, but they snapped to Skulduggery at the sound of his voice and didn't leave again. "Skull?"

"The one and only."

He spluttered a bit, a hint of terror creeping into his expression, likely because he was starting to feel like he was drowning in confusion. Skulduggery had seen that many times before. "You - but - I thought you were... you're not all covered up," he managed at last, somewhat lamely.

"Temporary skin condition. All better now. Are you three enjoying yourselves?"
skeletonenigma: (sit down and let me tell you a story)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-03-12 12:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, if there'd been any doubt about Barney's mysterious fare knowing the group from the hospital, he'd pretty much dispelled all of it by now. He still hadn't stopped staring. Barney was only vaguely aware that his mouth was also hanging open, but he didn't have the foresight or the self-awareness to close it again.

Gabe, he recognised. Gabe was the easy one. The only things that changed about his appearance was the color of the shirt and the addition of a pair of sandals. That and his natural beauty made him easy to pick out, but...

Barney had told Allie about that mysterious fare over their dinner that night. Spun a whole story out of it, just like he'd meant to. And the first thing Allie had asked was whether Barney thought that Gabe might be an angel. Apparently, Ghastly told her he knew an angel named Gabe. Barney had humoured her at the time, but later that night - especially in the face of Dad - he couldn't quite help wondering.

It was far too easy to believe. Especially now, with such a clear reminder of how... angelic Gabe had looked for a few split seconds in the cab.

Skull Pleasant was only recognisable by the sound of his voice. That made sense, as he'd been all covered up last time they met, but Barney was sure he saw a flash of bone-white skin beneath the heavy scarf. He'd assumed it was a carnival act. Of course, Barney reminded himself, he didn't really believe that anymore. He wasn't sure what to believe, but these people weren't carnie folk. They couldn't be. There was something far too exotic about them. Carnie folk knew how to con an audience. This wasn't how cons typically worked. Cons worked off of believable facts, things you could swallow. And they usually involved money changing hands.

Fletcher, Barney only knew by his hair. There was a new air of confidence about the teenager, making him just look different. Maybe it had something to do with the teenage girl next to him - Valerie, if Barney remembered correctly - and how Fletch walked over to take her hand. And Valerie also looked a lot different, now that her face was lit up with a wide smile.

The man who'd been stabbed in the leg was no longer stabbed in the leg.

Barney was still staring at him as the introductions went around. Delirious and in shock less than a few days ago, and now he was wandering around a carnival like nothing had happened?

"Awwww." Tanith smiled warmly down at Allie. "I think you're pretty too, sweetheart."

"I like her," the girl called Valerie decided. "She said I'm pretty. I really like her. Can we keep her?"

"She isn't a stray puppy," Skulduggery reminded her, the laughter in his eyes betraying his serious tone. "Rafe, on the other hand..."

Rafe.

Barney hadn't seen Allie this happy in ages. Cheerful, yes. Smiling, yes. But truly and genuinely happy? It was enough to strike him even more speechless than he already was, and a small part of Barney, somewhere deep down in places he didn't normally go looking, made connections that vibrated with hope. Gabe. Rafe.

Angels.

"I think they should run some tests again. I think their machines were lyin'."

The hope interfered with his better judgment, and Barney had to check himself sheepishly when Mrs Sheldon spoke again. He knew all too well the dangers of false hope. Sure, Dad and Ghastly had been all fun and games in the childrens' ward a few nights ago, but that was then. Sooner or later, you had to face reality.

Barney refocused on the group in time to be startled by Rafe's deeply intense eyes on him. "Aw," the man said. "Have a little faith."

Then he scooped Allie out of the chair and lifted her, laughing with delight, onto his strong shoulders.

She didn't go pale. Her smile didn't disappear. Her heart had to be beating a mile a minute by now, and Allie wasn't complaining one bit.

It took far more mental effort than Barney was used to applying, but eventually, he reached a solid and conscious decision. "Mrs Sheldon, you want us back at the hospital by dinnertime, right? Would you mind leaving us on our own for the rest of the day?"

"What is everyone's problem with my hair?" Fletcher squawked a short distance away.
skeletonenigma: (let me explain something to you)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-03-12 01:59 pm (UTC)(link)
"Oh, Allie can have my share," the man called Erskine said, a bright smile beamed in Allie's direction. "Looks like she needs it more than I do, anyway."

He would have been right, too, if Allie didn't suddenly look inexplicably healthier than she had in years. The sun, Barney decided. It had to be a trick of the sunlight, making her face glow like that. The sun combined with the wild grin she still hadn't given up.

Erskine cleared his throat and looked back towards Barney. "If no one else is going to ask for the wheelchair, can I have it?"

Skull shook his head with a mournful look. "Growing lazy, Reveller. Not an attractive trait in an Elder."

"Who said anything about being lazy?" Erskine gently but firmly took the wheelchair away from Barney, having apparently decided not to wait for an answer, and started rolling it along in front of him. "Some of these rides are downright highway robbery. Six tickets just for one go on the roller coaster? I don't even know where you get tickets, let alone six of them. No, I was thinking when Allie gets tired of being taller than the rest of us, I could give her a little private roller coaster ride for free. And in the meantime, I look incredibly helpful. Win-win situation."

"I never get tired of being taller than the rest of you," Skull pointed out. "I doubt Allie will."

"And tickets are at the front entrance," Valerie informed Erskine right on Skull's heels. "10 cents per roll of five. Still think it's highway robbery?"

Erskine hesitated. "Alright, maybe not the rides. But the arcade games certainly are. I vote we steer clear of them. Where are the bumper cars?"

"You need tickets first!"

Barney started at the feel of a hand on his shoulder. It wasn't until he spun to see Ghastly, a concerned look in the bald man's eyes, that he realised he was probably quite ashen-faced. "Are you alright?"

Barney shook his head to try and clear the cloud that seemed to be settling over it. "Hm?"

"You sent your nurse away, and you look like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh. Oh, no, I just... who are you people? And don't try to tell me you're all carnie folk. Something's going on here."

The last part he directed at the rest of the group, voice raised to be heard over the din, launching straight into the question before he could lose the nerve he was working so hard on building up.
skeletonenigma: (well this is frustrating)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-03-12 03:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Right. The faery prince thing.

Tanith caught Ghastly's gaze across the group, a look of such pure joy on her face that Ghastly didn't have the heart to try and correct Allie. Not that he would have anyway, but Tanith's expression more than made up for the way Erskine and Skulduggery were both looking at him now - a lot like the way lions eyed their prey. A little startled, both of them, certainly, but not enough to miss the implication in Allie's words.

"Are you sure we can't keep her?" Valkyrie pleaded with Skulduggery. "Come on. We need someone to make us feel better after we do stupid things. She could stay at your house."

"The house we're in for maybe five minutes every two days, you mean?" Skulduggery asked.

"Exactly! Barney can come too."

"I'd like to know how she knows Ghastly's a faery prince," Erskine cut in with a decidedly evil smile. "Is it really that obvious?"

Ghastly shot the newly elected Elder a glare. "If that were true, it would make all of you my underlings, now, wouldn't it?"

"Not Solomon or Corrival. They're the mortal heroes, remember?"

Of course. How could he forget? Ghastly glanced back over at Allie, still soaring high above them on Rafe's shoulders, now with a hot dog held carefully in her hands like she was terrified she might drop a priceless treasure. Poor kid. When was the last time she had anything other than hospital food? Ghastly's heart lightened at the sight of her obvious delight, even with the knowledge that she was still terminal.

Or... was she? Rafe, the healing Archangel. Would Barney and Allie get back to the hospital, only to discover they'd been handed a medical miracle? Ghastly sorely hoped so.

Barney, in the meantime, was looking even paler than he had before. And that was saying something. Ghastly had to fight back the urge to offer him the wheelchair. "You're... not really a faery prince, are you?"

His voice was full of such trepidation that Ghastly couldn't even laugh again. Instead, he gave Barney a gentle smile. "No. I'm about as far opposite royalty as you can possibly get. And I'm... not a faery, either."

"Then what are you?"

Ghastly hesitated for only a moment. "A tailor. I gave you my card, remember?"

"Please." Barney was back to looking helpless again. Helpless and lost. "Please, just tell me the truth. Tell Allie the truth. She has less than a month left."

Less than a...?

Before he could let himself think too hard about it, Ghastly turned to Corrival. "Grand Mage. Permission to break one of the oldest laws we have without penalty?"
skeletonenigma: (well now that's just amusing)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-03-13 01:12 am (UTC)(link)
Ghastly decided he rather liked this Council of Elders. They got things done. Put the same question to Meritorious, and you wouldn't have had an answer for weeks while it was debated and argued over and left to committees. Put the question to an old war general, and you got a vague wave of 'just be ready for the consequences.'

"Magic...?"

Ghastly didn't even turn around to see what Barney's face looked like; he caught Erskine's eye, and waved the wheelchair over. "Magic," he began, "is the least of what's going on here. Just tell me when to stop, and I'll stop."

Barney swallowed noticeably hard, blinked a few times, and then shook his head. "No. Better give it to me straight. Just... all out, at once."

Erskine appeared with the wheelchair, and the pair of former Dead Men dropped a short distance behind the rest of the group, walking alongside Barney. Allie's father wasn't the only one who probably felt a remarkable sense of surrealism as they strolled through the carnival, shouts and laughter on either side from parents and kids having fun, the sun beating down on them while they talked seriously about magic. And no one in pain or close to dying. Ghastly still wasn't used to doing things like this without, at the very least, a headscarf. He kept reaching up to try and adjust it, only to discover it wasn't there.

"Most of us," he told Barney, speaking slowly and keeping an eye on the man as they walked, "are sorcerers. Erskine and I are what we call Elementals. Solomon and Tanith are what we call Adepts. They're just fancy names for different disciplines, really."

"No," Erskine cut in. "You're going about it wrong. Barney, my friend, Ghastly wishes he wasn't a sorcerer. He's going to take all the magic out of it for you. Elementals have control over the four elements - "

"Control is a strong word," Ghastly interrupted Erskine right back. "We influence them."

Erskine rolled his eyes. "We influence them, then. Adepts can do almost anything else. Tanith walks on ceilings and unlocks doors. Solomon... used to be a Necromancer, and they tend to be highly religious sanctimonious gits, so we're all happy he isn't one anymore. He's physically blind now, and I'm a little fuzzy on the details, but I think he can see souls?" He directed the last question at Ghastly, who shrugged. "He can see something, anyway," Erskine continued with a minor shrug of his own. "Something about the lifestream. He liked Allie. And Allie's a great kid, by the way."

Ghastly nodded. "With us so far?"

Barney's face was practically white, his lips were pursed, and he looked very much in danger of passing out. But, to his credit, he managed to nod. Ghastly put a hand on the man's shoulder, ready to catch him if he actually did pass out. "Ready for the next part?"

Another nod. Ghastly squeezed Barney's shoulder, and plunged on. "Now, Gabe and Rafe... they're - "

"Angels. Right?"

So Allie had talked to him. "Archangels. The Archangels. Gabriel and Raphael."

"Which we sorcerers are stunned by as well, let me tell you," Erskine added with a note of glee that he now got to watch someone else have to struggle with the news. Ghastly knew the feeling. "None of us believed in anything divine. We figured we'd have proof. Shows how much we know."

Erskine's comeuppance for the glee came less than a minute later, when Barney's head swiveled toward Ghastly. "So then Dad really was..."

"Yep."

"With teddy bears."

"Longstanding tradition with Gabe, apparently. He dragged me to this carnival not long before we ran into you."

"Hang on." Erskine stopped walking, Ghastly right alongside him, while it took Barney a few seconds to realise the wheelchair wasn't bumping along the grass anymore, and turn to face them. "You guys are talking about God."

"No. We're talking about the other mysterious Dad who's been wandering around in our lives."

Erskine stared at Barney. "You met God?"

It probably wasn't exactly what Barney needed to hear. Or wanted to hear. He opened his mouth to answer, faltered, clamped it shut, and started swaying on the spot. "I think I need to sit down."

Ghastly was immediately there, guiding him towards the wheelchair. "Are you sure you want everything all at once?"

Mouth right back to being clamped tight shut, all Barney could do was nod.

Ghastly took a deep breath. "Skul - Skulduggery Pleasant - is, in reality, a living skeleton. He's just wearing a really good illusion at the moment. He's currently in a relationship with Gabe. Rafe might have already healed your daughter, and if he didn't, he's going to. Corrival Deuce - " Ghastly took a moment to point - "is Ireland's Grand Mage, akin to a Prime Minister of sorts, but with absolute power over the sorcerers in this country. Erskine, am I missing anything?"

"Try Merlin."

"Oh, yes. As you've no doubt guessed, that's Merlin. No tricks or catches there, either."

"Well," Erskine said, biting his lip, "technically, Merlin and the two angels come from another dimension. Gabe came to rescue Skulduggery from... basically a sorcerer's version of hell. Rafe and Merlin followed to rescue him. It's a tangled web."
peacefullywreathed: (just take one step at a time)

[personal profile] peacefullywreathed 2013-03-13 02:01 am (UTC)(link)
The last time Solomon had been to a carnival, Skulduggery had been pursuing a suspect and needed a distraction. Since it had been a murderous suspect and the situation had been dire, Solomon had actually conceded to being put in a fortune-teller's shawl. Fortune-telling, he'd discovered then, was something for which he had no talent at all.

Right now, he suspected he'd have a good deal more luck. When he wasn't half-wishing he hadn't come to the carnival at all. Oh, it was beautiful--a beautiful maelstrom of colour and sound. Everything was too loud, everything too bright; a dull throb had started up behind his eyes. He knew there was conversation happening around him as they made their way to wherever they were going, but he didn't pay much attention to it.

Gabe squeezed his elbow. "How're you holding up?"

"Throbbing along nicely, thank you," Solomon murmured back, and a moment later felt the empty chip carton taken out of his hand to be replaced with a bottle of water. The special water Kenspeckle had mixed for him, he could tell; he could see it. Pure, liquid light.

"Here. Let us know if you need to stop, Solomon."

He accepted the bottle, shaking his head just once, and carefully. "I just need to get out of this din, I think."

It was hard enough seeing the twisting rainbow current of everyone else's souls around them, but it felt as if he was walking in the middle of a supernova, sticking with this group. So he stepped aside and paused to drink, and Gabe let him go, so he could drop back to walk with the three behind them.

Almost at once it was something of a relief. No more standing by Gabe's side and sensing that wing over his head, outstretched toward Skulduggery--Lord Vile. No more having to see the way Allie's soul flickered like a candle in the wind, bright and warm but dangerously weak, except for the way Rafe's wings cupped protection around her. (It had been worse before. A tiny stubborn pinprick. She wasn't completely healed yet, for the sake of appearances at the hospital, but Rafe kept the exertion from making her worse.)

No more simple, radiating enjoyment of a half-dozen individually overwhelming souls in one place.

Maybe he should escape to the country.

"It's amazing how much angels complicate things once you know they're there," he said dryly, falling into step beside the trio behind, reaching out to find someone's arm. He found the wheelchair instead. Close enough.

Strangely enough, the shock in Barney Lachlan's soul was rather steadying. Lachlan was a mossy log. Potentially strong, with life growing from it, except that it was potentially weak as well. Weak when left to rot. Right now he was fragile, held together with that moss, but that didn't mean he'd break. He was quiet, though. Peaceful, in an odd sort of way.

"The pair of you didn't hold back, did you?" he observed. "If I didn't know any better I might think you took some sadistic pleasure in breaking people."
skeletonenigma: (it's funny how you think you've won this)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-03-13 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
"Clearly," said Erskine, "you do know better, just for saying it. No sadism in my soul, thank you very much."

Solomon Wreath, the possible soul-reader. Barney reached out to grip one of the arms on the wheelchair like it was a lifeline. Strangely enough, the dark-haired man's words were a lot more calming than anything Ghastly or Erskine had said thus far - not that Barney could really blame the two... sorcerers. He did ask for the whole truth. He'd even halfway suspected it. That didn't really lessen the blow any.

Solomon Wreath's words were a lot like an anchor. They reminded Barney there was still more to the world than magic. That there was still sarcasm and still good-natured teasing, even in such a fantastic world of sorcery. There was still blindness, too. Magic couldn't solve every problem.

"Anything you'd like to add?" Barney heard Ghastly ask Solomon from behind him. "Something stabilising and comforting, perhaps? You'd know better than we would."

Barney consciously tuned them out and focused all of his thoughts on Allie.

She should have fallen unconscious by now. Allie's heart had grown so weak that even this minor level of physical excitement should be getting dangerously close to killing her. It wasn't. If anything, it was giving her the strength it should have been giving a healthy nine-year-old girl. Barney hadn't seen her with such rosy cheeks in years. Eating the last of a hot dog, and not a single crinkle of pain on her face.

Hope blossomed deep in his chest. He didn't let it grow, but he didn't try to snuff it out, either. If these people deserved anything, it was the benefit of the doubt.

The hope, dim though it was, renewed the strength in Barney's legs. His grip on the arm of the wheelchair became only a support, and he pushed himself back up onto his feet. His voice was gruff when he turned back towards Solomon, but properly sincere. "I think I'll be okay. Do you want the chair?"

Erskine grinned. "I could give you a free roller coaster ride, Solomon. What do you say?"

Ghastly had an eyebrow raised. "Are you sure, Barney?"

"Yeah." He nodded once more, firmly, the embarrassment at having needed the wheelchair at all finally starting to creep up on him. "If Allie doesn't need it, I certainly don't."

If Allie doesn't need it...

Barney felt a genuine smile on his face for the first time in weeks.
peacefullywreathed: (and you seem to break like time)

[personal profile] peacefullywreathed 2013-03-13 11:04 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh? Are you so certain about that?" Solomon lifted an eyebrow at him, smirking. "Your pine-needles quiver when you're gleeful, did you know? So it's either sadism or masochism, which would you prefer it be?"

At Ghastly's comment he could only laugh. "I'm a cleric, not a saint. Call one of the angels if you're looking for comfort. It's really not one of my strong points."

He was aware of Barney beside him, aware that Barney wasn't really paying attention to the conversion--or not his full attention, at least. He was also aware of the sudden warmth, not like humour but more like ... sunlight had beamed through the thick canopy and left the moss aglow from within. That wasn't humour. That was ...

Solomon looked at Skulduggery, at the dark threads between panes and the way they were now, as they had not been before, entwined with a thread of purest white. They were different, but the ripples they cast were the same.

It was hope.

"I say you're crazy for thinking I'm going to trust your driving again anytime soon," Solomon replied dryly. "You've already run me into a wall today. I'd rather not put my life into your hands, thank you."

And speaking of lives. Solomon tore his gaze gladly from the rainbow crash of currents before him to look at Barney. "Speaking of thanks, I believe you deserve mine. I don't know where Valkyrie meant to take me that night, but if you hadn't insisted on the hospital I don't know that I'd have lived to see morning. So ... thank you."

Though Solomon tried to keep it to a minimum, his words had the faintly awkward tone of someone who did not give thanks very often at all.
Edited 2013-03-13 11:28 (UTC)
skeletonenigma: (adjusting the hat)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-03-13 12:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Not just blindness, then. Even getting stabbed through the leg was apparently not immediately fixable through magic. Or at least, it didn't require magic to fix. Or maybe Valkyrie, as a teenage girl, had just panicked and gone about things the wrong way. Any which way he looked at it, Barney was glad he'd gone down that street when he did.

"Your leg's fine now," he observed quietly. There was a question in there somewhere, but he didn't try to draw it out. He'd promised before he wouldn't ask questions about it, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know anyway.

Abruptly realising he'd just been thanked, Barney muttered something along the lines of 'You're welcome' and turned his attention back to the front. Solomon may not give thanks very often, but Barney accepted it even less.

"If you can trust a mortal with your life, you can certainly trust me," Erskine insisted. "No offence, Barney. The most I'll give you is a couple of bruises. But glee shows up in my soul?" Far from sounding offended or embarrassed, Erskine's tone was mostly dumbfounded, with a mix of interest thrown in. "Is there anything that doesn't show up in the soul? Can you see peoples' thoughts?"

Mortal. Huh. Barney debated asking just how old Erskine was, and then decided that was something else he didn't want to know. Magic was sending him off on a loop, it really was. But it reminded him that Erskine said Solomon liked Allie. Without giving Erskine a chance to continue, Barney slipped out from in front of the wheelchair and took up a spot on Solomon's other side. "What's Allie's soul like?"
peacefullywreathed: (are the sounds in bloom with you?)

[personal profile] peacefullywreathed 2013-03-13 01:10 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yes," Solomon agreed, "I was able to get it looked at by a healer." A healer who had been kidnapped at the time, and whose laboratory was under watch by the Temple, but details. "There's very little Kenspeckle Grouse can't fix."

Like Necromantic-caused blindness.

Both the men asked their questions too quickly after one another for Solomon to get a word in-between, and he paused, automatically glancing toward the little girl. "She looked like a fading ember, before," he said quietly. "Now she looks like a candle in the wind." Not quite strong enough to stand alone, but no longer exactly dying. He glanced sideways, his sightless eyes gazing past Barney's face, and nevertheless smiled. "She'll be fine. Raphael has her cradled in his wings. Safest person in the world at this moment, I imagine."

And because he knew, even before he'd spoken, that Barney would need the chance to take that in--to let the hope solidify--Solomon turned almost immediately to answer Erskine with a snort. "Hardly. It's more ..."

He paused, trying to figure out how to explain it, even as his gaze caught on the way one of Erskine's 'pine-needles' drifted. Still attached, but actively interested. "It's all metaphorical," he said finally. "The line between senses is blurred. Things don't really have a look or a smell or a feel, but it's the only way I can comprehend it. You're not actually a tree. It's just the nearest analogous thing. Tipstaff is the sound of parchment, and the smell of it and candlewax. Tanith Low is a sensation. Duty and self-assurance."

The last was added as an aside towards Ghastly, before the man's curiosity could register. "So no, I can't see thoughts. But I can see the reactions thoughts have on people. Humour is usually a warmth radiating from the centre. In Corrival it feels like a hearth. In you it feels like a den ... or a nest. Exasperation comes with a certain kind of prickliness. Corrival's eels snapping. Your pine-cones dropping everywhere. And so on." He smiled wryly. "It's more a matter of emotion than anything else, really. And they radiate. Why do you think I came back here?" He nodded to the group ahead of them. "A group of souls that strong, all having fun, rebound off each other. It was like walking in the centre of a star."

That was the thing he hadn't expected in the least--if he'd expected anything at all. The way souls weren't just self-contained, but the way they interacted with one another. Gabe's wing was only the most obvious. Even now, if he looked closely, he could see a rainbow thread of Tanith's awareness reaching back toward Ghastly, and a piece of his toward her. An extension of Barney's self, more solid for its longevity, like a thick tendril, reaching out toward Allie.

Only if he focussed on them. When he didn't, they faded into the lifestream as just one or two of its multitude of colours.
skeletonenigma: (oops he smiled anyway)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-03-13 02:17 pm (UTC)(link)
For a few moments, there was nothing but a moderately comfortable silence. Not quite comfortable, actually, but not awkward either. Pensive.

Erskine, of course, was the first to break it. "Well, it's nice to know I'm not actually a tree," he murmured. "And here I was, imagining a nice large oak in the centre of my being. Ah, well. Are you implying the three of us don't have souls that strong? The angels I can understand, but the others? Should I be offended?"

"Perhaps you're just not quite as good at interacting with others as you think you are," Ghastly gently teased him.

"I'm brilliant at interacting with others."

"Hm." Ghastly nodded somberly, pretending to be deep in thought. "Must be a stamina issue, then."

"You watch yourself, Bespoke, or I'll shove you into a doorframe. But speaking of interactions, remind me again, what is there between Gabe and Skulduggery?"

Ghastly rolled his eyes and did his best to look anywhere but at the two of them. Sure, he'd accepted it, and maybe even halfway given them his blessing, but that didn't mean he had to be comfortable with it. Skulduggery wasn't either, of that Ghastly was sure. The detective would be having a hard time accepting the possibility of a romantic relationship with someone he wasn't attracted to, let alone someone so much more inherently powerful than he was.

More powerful than Skulduggery was, Ghastly inwardly clarified. Vile was powerful enough to kill a Faceless One. That might put a damper on the relationship.

That part, Barney could do without. That part they could all do without. It was a bright sunny day in the middle of the carnival grounds, and Ghastly was going to enjoy it if he had to punch something to manage it.
peacefullywreathed: (of life so incomplete)

[personal profile] peacefullywreathed 2013-03-13 02:32 pm (UTC)(link)
"Well, the angels, Merlin and Skulduggery, at least," Solomon returned dryly. "They overwhelm everyone else, and if you're insulted about not being as big-souled as them then you've got narcissism issues." Then he quietened, staring ahead, comparing the light of their company to the quiet in his peripheral vision. "You're steadier," he said after a moment. "It's calming, to be perfectly honest."

Ghastly wasn't the only one trying not to look at Gabe and Skulduggery, and not the only one to roll his eyes. Solomon didn't even deign to look over at him. "I think you're going senile, Elder Ravel. Let me put it this way: aside from the angel thing, it's probably a good thing the lifestream isn't on public display."

Ahead of them, the group paused, the currents moving around them and blurring the edges of their collective presence. "Hey, slowpokes," Rafe called back, "if y'all hurry up we might be able to get us all into one dodgem car session! Don't be dawdlin', now!"

"If it's all the same to you, I'll guard the wheelchair," Solomon called back as they came nearer. "And no, you may not drive me, Reveller. Go drive into things yourself. Maybe you'll get it out of your system and grant me better service."
skeletonenigma: (just sitting)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-03-14 02:11 am (UTC)(link)
A good thing the lifestream isn't on public display. If Ghastly was being brutally honest, it was probably also a good thing that Erskine wasn't able to see said lifestream. Solomon wouldn't go announcing the metaphysical evidence of the relationship to the whole world, nor would he mention it solely for the purposes of teasing. Erskine probably would. It was a wonder Erskine hadn't already.

The aforementioned Elder shrugged in response to the barb, affected nonchalance opposite a smirk. "Actually, Prophet, I was going to let you drive. Much better chance of us crashing into things."

"I wouldn't bet on that," said Ghastly, a phantom of that same smirk on his own face. "Do you have your driver's licence yet, Reveller?"

"Don't you start on that Reveller nonsense. No, I don't. I was planning on waiting until cars are either able to drive themselves, or it's considered socially acceptable to run your car off the highway. What do you think, a couple more centuries?"

"Guys!" Tanith called from up ahead, nicely covering up Barney's choke of surprise. "Hurry up! They're taking the tickets!"

"At the least," Ghastly agreed, speeding up his pace. "In the meantime, Elder Ravel, you'd better be careful how many times you ram into me if you're still hoping for those robe replacements."

"You'll do those anyway. You said it yourself. They're a crime."



Angels, it turned out, had perfect timing. Or just extraordinarily good luck. Not only did they get everyone into the same session, they managed to wrangle things so they were the only ones in the session.

It probably wasn't too hard to do. The only ones who shared a car were Barney and Allie, and since there were only nine cars in the ring, it worked out perfectly. Even better for Skulduggery, since that left two people out and apart from Solomon, he was the only logical choice. Or at least, that was what he argued. Argued and won.

A vendor tried to ask them to double up, but Rafe started complaining loudly about needing room for his wings - to the amused fascination of several passersby - which Gabe countered by asking how he intended to hide his horns. Merlin needed to step in, by which point the vendor had given up, and Skulduggery assured both Gabe and Valkyrie that he wasn't about to try and sneak off.

He really wasn't, either. Solomon was off to one side with the wheelchair, probably enjoying the antics of the lifestream currents. Skulduggery joined him with a smile, and leaned back against the iron gate that surrounded the bumper cars arena.

He may have been the very picture of a casual observer, but Skulduggery's voice, which he kept low, was serious. "Were you aware that you're capable of killing multiple people in the same second?"
peacefullywreathed: (like weights strapped around my feet)

[personal profile] peacefullywreathed 2013-03-14 02:27 am (UTC)(link)
'Enjoying' would have been too strong a word for watching the lifestream. He was enjoying their individual souls being all in one place, a place he wasn't in. He was also enjoying being out of the walkway, because it meant he wasn't in the thick of the general public's soul-current either.

With its brakes on, the wheelchair made a good solid seat, and he wasn't about to mention it, but the rest wasn't unwarranted. He'd just gotten out of the Hibernian yesterday. So he quietly guarded the wheelchair and the other snacks Merlin had bought, watching the lifestream, occasionally sipping his water, and hoping that the headache wasn't going to be a lasting thing.

Also hoping that Skulduggery wouldn't feel the urge to come over and talk. Which, unfortunately, was not now, because now, naturally, he chose to be unpredictable. For a moment Solomon wondered if it would work to pretend he hadn't heard the man approach, but that thought was necessarily banished at the skeleton's words.

Solomon tensed, very aware of the detective's brightness beside him. This subject matter was the last thing Solomon wanted to talk about with Skulduggery. The ex-Necromancer, once he'd sorted out his thoughts, knew what he'd almost done, if not for Gabe. He didn't know if it would have worked, but in the face of that memory, he hadn't been able to stop.

But the way Skulduggery said the words was odd. As if it was a revelation to the skeleton himself. As if he didn't remember.

"You say that as if that fact is new to you," Solomon said mildly, turning his face toward Skulduggery but not actually looking at him.