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
skeletonenigma: (pencilskul)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-01-10 05:58 am (UTC)(link)
It wouldn't make any difference, and it didn't make any difference, but Valkyrie tried dialing Fletcher's number one more time anyway. The call went straight to voicemail. Just like it did the last two times.

She'd given Fletcher a good fifteen minutes after he disappeared with Guild, trying her best to keep a lid on the growing dread and uncertainty and fear that he didn't make it out in time, and that he was dead. That he was dead and they wouldn't know because for all Valkyrie knew, Fletcher had Teleported up into the stratosphere somewhere.

The taxi ride to where Sanguine was keeping Guild's family may have only been fifteen minutes long, but it felt like an eternity. And Valkyrie's anger at Scarab, at Sanguine, simmered on low heat the whole way, lending her a fire that made it hard to think and easy to act.

She could do this. Sanguine had no magic. Sanguine had no magic and Valkyrie did, and she could beat him.

It was a nice house they stopped in front of; a typical suburban house that Valkyrie would have thought looked nice, under any other circumstance. She jumped out of the cab, quickly paid the driver, and then barely restrained herself enough to actually try the front door before blasting it open the way Skulduggery had done so many times in the past.

It was unlocked.

Instantly on guard, Valkyrie cautiously pushed it open with her left hand while fire flared in her right. The front hall was empty. She still didn't let her guard down, and she didn't let the fire burn any less brightly as she moved slowly into the living room.

The moment she turned her back on one corner to check the other one, something kicked her legs out from under her.

Valkyrie twisted over to hurl the brewing fireball in her attacker's face, but the man dodged easily to one side, lifted her up, and slammed her down into the coffee table. Pain exploded through her back and head before Billy-Ray Sanguine hauled her up again, and she tried to focus just hard enough to be able to snap her fingers and summon a spark. It didn't work; no spark came. She couldn't even feel the friction of the snap.

"Fancy that," Valkyrie heard Sanguine say with a dangerous kind of glee. His hands gripping her jacket were the only things keeping her upright. "Here I was, with nothin' to do but hope Dusk didn't manage to kill you, and look what happens! You drop yourself right into my lap!"

She had once chance. Sanguine wouldn't be bragging for long before he killed her. Valkyrie took a deep breath to clear her head and thrust her hand forward.

No shadows swept in to her aid. No comforting sensation of ice flowed through her finger. She wasn't wearing her Necromancer ring. Of course, she wasn't wearing her Necromancer ring, because she'd left it behind on her bedside table like an idiot.

If Sanguine noticed she'd been trying to use magic, he didn't comment. He caught her hand, but probably assumed she'd just been trying to physically hit him. He laughed. "Skeleton ain't even with you? Didja really think you could take me on, all on your lonesome?" He tsked with an affected disappointment. "That was a mistake."

Air. Fire. Water. Anything.

Gabe, she realised suddenly. Gabriel, help! Please!
skeletonenigma: (welltailoredsuit)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-01-10 01:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Suddenly, nothing was holding her up, and Valkyrie stumbled back into the wall behind her with that same dizziness and her own head still pounding. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on taking deep, long breaths to try and clear her head faster.

She also tried hard not to think about the fact that if Gabriel didn't respond immediately to her prayer the way he did, she'd probably be dead.

"I'm fine," she murmured, slowly peeling her eyes back open. "I'll be... Gabe?"

Against the far wall, Sanguine groaned. Valkyrie ignored it, forgot about her own pain, and rushed to Gabe's side. She had no idea how to help, but offered him her support anyway, trying to gently pull him back up to his feet. She hadn't had time to think about this. She hadn't had time to remember that Gabe was injured, and there was a reason Fletcher was the one Teleporting them everywhere, and that realisation now paved the way for a flood of sudden and drenching guilt.

It wasn't all about Gabe, either - although that was a good majority of it. Part of the guilt was over her Necromantic ring.

She didn't have it with her today. And she'd never thought to check. She took the extra power it provided her for granted, never even gave it a second thought. And Valkyrie knew she'd almost always done that over this last year, especially as she slowly grew more powerful, but it still felt bearable then. Mostly. It didn't feel wrong to take strength for granted.

Now, all she could remember was Skulduggery talking to her about Vile, back at the safehouse. He'd told her about when he started forgetting a time when he didn't have Necromancy at his disposal. When he took the power for granted, assumed it would always be there, assumed it always had been there. He'd forgotten, and soon there was nothing left but the Necromancy, and pretty soon after that Skulduggery was also forgotten. Lord Vile stood in his place.

The thought terrified her to her very core. If she'd focused on her Elemental powers this last year, and not Necromancy, she might never have been in the position to need Gabriel's help.

"I'm sorry," she told Gabe quietly. "I didn't mean for you to..." The Necromancy, she remembered. He'd had a visercal reaction to it, both in Skulduggery when they first met and in the graveyard when he and Solomon first met. "If it helps, I want to destroy my ring when this is all over."

The words stunned her the instant they left her mouth, but... it was true. She did. She didn't want to end up relying on Necromancy the same way Skulduggery had. She didn't want to be able to use something so evil that it could hurt an Archangel, or cause her mentor to give up magic entirely when he saw the truth of it.

She didn't want to become a Necromancer.

"Who," Sanguine gasped as he dragged himself back up using the wall, "the hell are you?"

He didn't look happy, and it wasn't just because of the blood running down the side of his head or the ginger way he held his left arm.
skeletonenigma: (fightfire)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-01-10 04:47 pm (UTC)(link)
When Skulduggery said he was proud of Valkyrie, it always elicited a small glow of pride deep in her gut. Even when he meant it sarcastically, or when it was an offhanded observation. It was kind of interesting that Gabe saying he was proud of her caused the same reaction, because even though he was an Archangel, she'd only met him a few days ago.

Of course, she'd only known Skulduggery for a few days before she started trying to impress him. And he was a living skeleton. Maybe it wasn't so weird.

Gabe transitioning seamlessly into Sanguine's accent still caught her off-guard, even after hearing it multiple times. Somehow, hearing it right next to Sanguine made the whole thing either that much funnier, or slightly more terrifying. She hadn't decided which yet. Either way, Valkyrie didn't think she'd ever get used to the accent or the way Gabe could slip it on and off as easily as breathing.

Sanguine's eyes were narrowed in a kind of fury Valkyrie didn't see on the Texan's face very often. He glared at them both. "Don't you think for a second that y'all have seen the last of me."

Valkyrie sighed. "Yes, yes, you're very scary, I'm trembling in my boots. Sanguine, you have no idea what kind of a gift you're being granted here. Just go."

He seemed to have some kind of an idea, because he turned to look at Gabe as Valkyrie moved off to search for Guild's family. "You ain't just a mind-reader," he said. "What kind of a mind-reader can kill Remnants? You secretly a Faceless One?"

Valkyrie waited until she was out of sight before letting the violent shudder take over her body, and she pulled out her phone to call Skulduggery while she searched.
skeletonenigma: (noimagination)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-01-13 03:07 pm (UTC)(link)
"I never expected it to work." Billy-Ray didn't notice how Gabe actually needed the wall to stay upright, because after being thrown across the room like a rag doll, he wasn't in much better shape - certainly not in any shape to notice anything. Blood was trickling down the side of his head, he was pretty sure his arm was broken, and that didn't even begin to cover his bruised pride. "Just never expected you to kill it."

Could Remnants even be killed? Weren't they technically just angry ghosts? How did that even work?

The only thing Billy-Ray knew for sure was that with his head ringing like it was, only one arm, and no magic to use, his chances against Valkyrie Cain with her Elemental magic and her Necromancy were already frustratingly slim. And that was without factoring in the sorcerer from an alternate dimension who'd been fighting Faceless Ones all his life, could kill ghosts, and could appear from nowhere to throw people bodily across rooms without a second thought.

Billy-Ray was starting to think he couldn't begin to fathom who Gabe really was. He had no clue. And it was starting to scare him.

If it were just Cain, he might've stayed. But Gabe was with her, standing right there, looking for all the world like he was just disappointed with Billy-Ray's actions, rather than angry. "Okay, okay," he relented, putting up the hand that wasn't broken. "I'm gone. Leavin' Ireland tonight. I'll see all you fine folks some other time."

Scarab's plan had fallen through, after all. There was nothing left here for Billy-Ray. He tipped an imaginary hat to Gabe with a wide grin, then turned and left.



Guild's family were perfectly fine. Shaken, maybe a little in shock, but Billy-Ray hadn't hurt them. They were tied up with rope in a bedroom through the door on the right, and the rope was easily undone with a small flame flickering in the palm of Valkyrie's hand. Gabe helped calm Guild's daughter down with that smile and manner of this that, even in pain, just made you believe there was nothing but good in the world - only misguided people. In fact, the little girl sat on Gabe's lap during the cab ride back to the stadium, and Gabe told her stories that Valkyrie only half-listened to. There was one about God, actually, and that one Valkyrie did listen to, in the haze of someone who couldn't quite believe they were hearing a story about someone they'd actually met.

But she couldn't stop thinking about Fletcher. Skulduggery, when Valkyrie called, said that he hadn't seen or heard from him, and shutting off that part of her mind was a lot harder now that Valkyrie didn't have anger at someone to focus on. The cab ride couldn't have been any longer than it was from the stadium to the house, but it felt like nearly four times as long before the cab came to a stop near one of the Staff Only entrances.
skeletonenigma: (welltailoredsuit)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-01-15 03:31 am (UTC)(link)
Fletcher was safe.

The relief that washed through Valkyrie after Gabe's assurance made her knees shake, but she forced herself to keep walking upright. Gabe had strained himself again - and Valkyrie impatiently fought back the fresh surge of guilt that thought brought with it - so it wasn't like there would be anyone to help her if she stumbled. And she wouldn't stumble. For now, until they ran into Skulduggery again, Valkyrie would be the strong one.

"Yep," she answered the security guards with an agreeable nod. "But they're really giant teddy bears on the inside." She paused, remembering the teddy bear gift Solomon got from God, and something about that nearly made her laugh. "Well, one of them is. I actually don't know much about the other one. So yeah, he's scary. The thing is, we're not from the Garda, but we are expected. You can ask them. You might make them even more angry, though. It's probably easiest just to let us through."

It was what Skulduggery did sometimes, talking quickly and smoothly in a way that sounded like it made perfect sense, until you thought about it just a little harder. So putting people on edge right away with that approach worked wonders in making them too nervous to think a little harder about anything. Granted, Skulduggery was still better at it than Valkyrie was, but she still figured she was good enough for this.
skeletonenigma: (adjustingthehat)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-01-15 01:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Valkyrie gave the guards her own smile as she followed the others forward, but it dropped off her face the instant they were out of sight. What did you mean by that? she asked Gabe silently, since there wasn't really a polite way to take him aside and ask out loud. They're not going to arrest Guild for this, are they? He's the Grand Mage. The Engine didn't even go off.

Sanguine had Guild's family hostage. They couldn't blame Guild for doing what he did - at least, not by sending him to prison. Not by making it so he could never see his family again. Couldn't he just do community service or something?

... Unless, Valkyrie remembered with a sinking heart, this whole escapade made what Guild did during the war public knowledge. Which it probably did, if Davina Marr was here with the Cleavers. There were plenty of people, Valkyrie knew, who would love to see Guild in prison anyway; add to that the assassination of a beloved pacifist, and Guild stood no chance.

Luckily, Valkyrie didn't have long to dwell on it. Soon after they passed through the blockade - almost the instant they'd passed back into the stadium corridor - she caught sight of Fletcher. He was standing off to one side, arms wrapped around himself, soaking wet and uncontrollably shivering. The rest of the world disappeared; Valkyrie broke away from Gabe's side, ran towards him, and threw her arms around him without a word.

Fletcher stumbled back with a startled cry, but Valkyrie didn't stop hugging him even as she felt the rough wall of the corridor come up painfully against her arms on his back. After a few moments, he laughed and hugged her back, and for a short time the world was stunningly perfect.

"Ah," she heard Skulduggery's voice from behind her. "Yes. Fletcher's fine."

She glared at him over her shoulder. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Petty revenge, really." Skulduggery absentmindedly adjusted his hat and his scarf, while his head tilted in a manner Valkyrie didn't think she'd ever seen before. "Why didn't you tell me where you were going?"

Valkyrie finally let go of Fletcher and turned back around properly to look Skulduggery in the eye - or in the sunglasses. "You were unconscious."

"I still had a phone. A smartphone, no less."

Valkyrie opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She closed it again with a sigh, and nodded. "Touche. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
skeletonenigma: (writtenname)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-01-16 01:23 am (UTC)(link)
Fletcher, still reeling from Valkyrie's unexpected tackle, took a moment to grin back at Gabe. "Yeah. But not nearly often enough."

"I thought you said he'd get less arrogant with time," Skulduggery muttered. It wasn't a serious accusation. Not really. There wasn't a single person here who wasn't proud of Fletcher, Skulduggery firmly included. If it weren't for the young Teleporter, everyone in the Stadium would be dead. Even Guild admitted, clearly and genuinely, that Fletcher had just saved 80,000 lives where Guild would have ended them all. And, more importantly, that Guild owed Fletcher everything. Which was true, and all very well and good, except that Fletcher's old smirk returned after the comment and it hadn't left his face for longer than a few seconds yet.

Skulduggery was going to have to teach him arrogance with charm. It would take a few years, but Fletcher was a surprisingly fast learner.

"What happened to Scarab?" Valkyrie asked.

"The Cleavers have him in custody. Dusk, thanks to a certain friend, is incapacitated and back in custody. Springheeled Jack is hopefully regretting his life decisions right alongside them. Crux is officially unaccounted for. What about Sanguine?"

Valkyrie made a face. "He got away. We let him go so we could save Guild's family."

Somehow, the answer didn't impede on Skulduggery's fairly cheerful demeanor. He liked when he won. He usually let that feeling of victory last for as long as possible before it inevitably faded to make room for more doom and gloom. "Ah, well. You can't win them all."

"If we didn't win this one, 80,000 people would be dead and the whole world would know about magic."

"Then it's a very good thing we won this one, isn't it?" Skulduggery glanced at Gabe. "What are you doing back here?"
skeletonenigma: (snap)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-01-16 02:52 am (UTC)(link)
Skulduggery nodded. He wasn't happy with it, not in the least; but the feeling of victory hadn't quite faded yet, and he was determined to make that last as long as possible. Facts. Valkyrie made a mistake, but at least she'd known how to stay alive. She was still alive. Gabe had strained himself saving her, but at least he didn't disappear, or die, or Fall. At least he could still walk, even while needing the extra support.

And Gabriel was right. Skulduggery did prefer it this way. It was good to see that the Archangel was finally starting to listen.

"Detainment," he answered. "Guild will likely be held in a Gaol until trial. The trial itself should be fairly quick, and then he's looking at 200 years."

"It's not fair," said Valkyrie.

"No. It's not. But it's how Guild wants to pay for it. He might even be safer in prison. Or he will be, once word of this gets out. Are you sure you're both alright?"

"Yeah," Valkyrie nodded somberly. "We're fine. We'll be fine. It's kind of hard to care about yourself when..." she gestured towards where Guild's family had disappeared after the Grand Mage - or, Skulduggery corrected himself, the former Grand Mage.

He could understand Valkyrie's feelings. It wasn't fair for Guild to go to prison for the murder of one man, particularly when he didn't even commit the murder himself. In contrast, Skulduggery had. Nonstop for five years. Yet he walked free. Valkyrie may not have said any of it out loud, but she must have been thinking it. Which made her next words all the more confusing, right after she turned abruptly to Fletcher.

"I think we should start dating."

If Skulduggery was still wearing Gabe's skin, he'd be blinking. Fletcher didn't blink; his face didn't move at all, that little smirk frozen neatly in place. It looked like it took considerable effort for the Teleporter to form words. "You what?"
skeletonenigma: (headtilt)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-01-16 01:01 pm (UTC)(link)
That silly grin didn't last too long. To be fair, it was a good deal longer than Skulduggery would have predicted, but he'd been young once too. He knew what it was like to first realise you were in love. Young love, especially, was so beautifully selfish. Took up all the room in their developing minds, and left none for anything else. When he thought of it like that, it was mildly surprising Fletcher managed to figure out anything else was going on at all.

But he did. He knew what Corrival was referring to. So did everyone there, to some degree, except for Anton. And it wouldn't be too long now before the Hotel owner also knew, because Corrival had never left a Dead Man out of a group decision before. And with good reason. The very fact that Anton Shudder was still here, and hadn't asked Fletcher to take him back to the Midnight Hotel, suggested that Corrival had already asked the Adept to stay. And it didn't matter if he hadn't, because it would have been unspoken agreement regardless.

A part of Skulduggery was comforted by that. The Dead Men were bonded by more than just friendship, and Corrival was always the catalyst for that. Corrival being there when Anton found out... it wouldn't make anything any easier, but Skulduggery preferred that over any other way.

Fletcher was looking towards him. With a quick burst of effort, Skulduggery pulled himself together and gave the Teleporter a nod. It wasn't as if he never thought about this happening, it was just... he'd never thought beyond it. He never thought there would be a beyond it. For once, Skulduggery didn't have any control over the outcome, and it felt far too similar to when he was first resurrected.

"Are we going back to the safehouse?" Fletcher asked uncertainly.

"Yes." It would be the safest place, and the only place where Skulduggery could be sure no one was listening in. China, perhaps, but if Gabe hadn't noticed any symbols for that purpose, it barely mattered. China already knew.

Skulduggery was right at Gabe's side as Fletcher Teleported them all into the safehouse's base living room, and he was immediately the extra arm Gabe needed as their surroundings materialised and the Archangel stumbled forward. And Skulduggery remained there, despite becoming abruptly aware of what he was doing. He remained there, and quietly helped Gabe recover, since he was practically the only one besides Valkyrie and Fletcher who didn't need even an extra second to adjust.
skeletonenigma: (necromancy)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-01-16 04:42 pm (UTC)(link)
With the three of them gone, Skulduggery vaguely expected himself to have a minor internal panic. He didn't; and, in retrospect, that made sense. Just because he couldn't control any of the physical events occurring, didn't mean that he couldn't control his own reactions to it. Skulduggery didn't want to panic, therefore he didn't. It would have been counterproductive to everything about the situation here.

Still, he found himself relieved to be sitting next to Gabriel. Like the Archangel's soul was some kind of anchor. That probably should have been worrying, but two things stopped Skulduggery from giving it any further thought - the gravity of Corrival's next words, and the knowledge that worrying about it would make some kind of imprint on Gabe.

The last thing any of them needed was for Gabe to be further strained - never mind that Skulduggery still wasn't comfortable with having his innermost feelings read like an open book.

Corrival, it turned out, was giving him back some measure of control. The man did know Skulduggery well. Funnily enough, Skulduggery almost didn't want it.

But he didn't take any time to think about it. Thinking about it was only going to make him second guess himself, and they would never get anywhere. Anton deserved to know, and he deserved to hear it from Skulduggery now; mentally clutching that one thought before any others could force their way in, Skulduggery removed the sunglasses and the scarf, laying both items neatly on the arm of the couch.

It wouldn't be proper eye contact, but it would be close enough. With one last look at Corrival, Skulduggery turned to Anton, and his eyeless gaze never wavered. "When I was killed, something stopped me from moving on. I don't know what that was, but I do know what brought me back. Rage. Hatred. I didn't have a concept of control, or a reason to learn any, so it grew unchecked and I was consumed by it."

The words were soft, but firm. Chosen carefully, but without hesitation. Every one was necessary, and every one was treated as such. Far from feeling removed from his own voice, each word reverberated fully around his mind, and Skulduggery was very aware of exactly what he was doing. It didn't make him stumble, and it didn't fill him with dread - or even resignation. Now, it was simply something that had to be done.

"I didn't see a way back. Part of me, I think, didn't want to see one. I turned to Necromancy because I needed something to fuel the rage into, but Necromancy doesn't just feed on the fuel it's given. It creates more of that fuel. That's its nature; it always has been. I stopped caring. I stopped wanting anything other than destruction. The thing about Necromancy is that the lowest cleric can destruct with it, but when the practitioner is already dead, it becomes something different. It takes on a life of its own."

He didn't need to say it. But he also didn't need to explain himself, and they were giving him the chance for that. Skulduggery couldn't leave this unfinished.

And so he said it, in the same measured, careful tones as all the rest. "I became Lord Vile. And I lived in that rage for all five years."
skeletonenigma: (lordvile)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-01-17 12:14 am (UTC)(link)
That was something Ghastly also wanted to know. He hadn't had a chance to ask yet, but... he wasn't sure he would have. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. If it was anything good, Skulduggery would have told them about it by now. If he'd come back to his senses on his own, he'd have said so.

If how Skulduggery had managed to climb back out of the pit could, in any way, help Anton Shudder with his own daily struggle, Skulduggery wouldn't have hesitated to explain it.

There wasn't any betrayal in Anton's tone or in his face, but Ghastly had known him too long not to recognise it. Maybe it was the way the Adept's hands were shaking, or how he was trying to stop that shaking with a layer of icy, fragile calm. Anton felt betrayed on a level even Ghastly couldn't quite imagine, even with all his years of Skulduggery's friendship from before the Dead Men were formed, from before Skulduggery was married.

Skulduggery, to his credit, didn't look away from Anton. But it did take him a long moment to answer. "I encountered a Faceless One. Partly deliberately. I believed I could kill it. I was right; but I didn't factor in that looking at one for too long can drive you just as insane as they are. I was already driven. I still can't quite explain it myself, except that something..."

He faltered. For the first time since they all sat down, Skulduggery faltered. He recovered smoothly, if not exactly quickly. "Something broke. I couldn't think. I didn't even try to hide the remains, which was a mistake, as the Grotesquery can attest to. Or would, if it was still alive and inclined to..." Again, Skulduggery stopped. He'd realised a moment too late that he was starting to sink back into his usual humour, and he cleared his throat after a short silence. "By the time I had any real sense of self again, I'd already abandoned the armour. I wandered for a bit, learned many increasingly creative ways of killing someone already dead - none of which worked - before I decided that if I was forced to live through it, I might as well try to do some good."

He'd shown up at Ghastly's front door. Five years of nothing, of assuming he'd been killed by Vile, and Skulduggery Pleasant had shown up on Ghastly's doorstep like it was only days since they last saw each other. Better than that; he was warm again. Joking. Back in possession of that dry sense of humour he'd never quite been able to achieve again ever since the death of his family.

Because he'd needed that, Ghastly finally understood. Skulduggery had seen exactly where the anger would lead him, and he'd had no intention of letting the transformation happen ever again.

A Faceless One.

Ghastly's mind was numb again. It took a Faceless One to bring Skulduggery back to his senses. How much was he concealing now? After months of being tortured by a whole group of those same dark gods, how close was he to breaking again? And if it did happen, if something made Skulduggery furious enough to cause that break, what would stop him? Gabriel, perhaps - if Gabriel was still here.

Ghastly didn't particularly enjoy the feeling of raw terror, but it was somehow more comforting than the spreading numb. It helped to feel something where Skulduggery was concerned.
skeletonenigma: (skulnoname)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-01-17 01:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Ghastly hadn't noticed a change in the Archangel during Skulduggery's words, so Anton's sharply pointed question came as a surprise. It surprised Skulduggery, too - Skulduggery, who noticed everything. But his skull had jerked towards Gabe with what was unmistakably surprise, and Ghastly couldn't help sharing that surprise. Gabe knew everything about Vile before any of the rest of them did. Anton had a point - what could possibly have made the Archangel react like that?

The difference was, Ghastly would have dropped the subject the moment Gabe made it clear he didn't want to discuss it - not because Gabe was an Archangel, but because, as Gabe said, it was unrelated. Ghastly had reached a point where he wanted to know more about Vile. About Skulduggery. He had questions about this past year, about what exactly the danger was, and he was ready to hear the answers to those questions. Anton, understandably, wasn't. Anton needed something else to focus on. He just... mistakenly chose the Archangel.

The Archangel and his relationship with Skulduggery.

Part of Ghastly wanted to know what was discussed during that 'personal conversation.' If anything was decided. Hell, half of him wished he'd been the one to overhear it, just to see Skulduggery's reaction. Possibly to take pictures. The rest of him was vehemently grateful he didn't know what was discussed, and was perfectly happy to remain in ignorance, and was mildly disgusted Ghastly had even taken the time to think about it when so much else was going on.

Gabe's transformation surprised Ghastly only in the speed of it. He'd been about to try and stop Anton himself, so it stood to reason Gabriel would as well. Ghastly just hadn't quite been expecting a wing to suddenly be in the way. It was just as large, awe-inspiring, and glorious as before, the feathers outstretched in a way that made it abundantly clear how very deep the longest ones were. Taller than the height of a man, from the looks of it. The wing blocked not only the door, but the entire wall, radiating a soft rainbow light that Ghastly knew from experience would be drawing out the beauty in the rest of the room.

The knowledge stopped him from even glancing towards Skulduggery - at least, not until he noticed how Gabe was holding his other wing. Curled and hunched, looking for all the world like it was about half the size of the other one, and - most importantly - curled around Skulduggery. So close it might even have been carefully draped over the detective's shoulders.

It made something catch in Ghastly's throat. One thing to know an Archangel was in love with someone who'd once murdered millions - very much another to see it. To feel it, even from where he was sitting. The sight gave Ghastly some idea of what was decided in that personal conversation, especially when Skulduggery made absolutely no move to shrug it off.

Silence permeated the room after Anton's disappearance and Gabe's final words. Ghastly didn't move for several seconds either; just looked at the door and wished they could spare someone to keep an eye on the Adept. Ghastly knew very well the need for distance to think, but the tailor could afford that. Anton might not be able to.

When he realised Gabe's words were at least partly directed towards him, Ghastly stood up and moved over to close the door behind Anton. "If that's what you call raising your voice," he murmured, "remind me never to get on your bad side."

It was different with China. There, Gabe really had raised his voice, which was worrying enough without the idea that China might ignorantly do or say something to make it even worse. But now... his voice had grown stern, yes. Stern beyond a level humans had ever managed. But Ghastly knew that Gabriel wouldn't hurt Anton, and that tempered any potential fear he might have felt. Might have felt, but didn't. After all, Gabe didn't react in any way Ghastly wouldn't have under the same circumstances.

He briefly wondered how Corrival was handling this. The thought, and Corrival's utter silence for the last few minutes, nearly made Ghastly laugh.

"What about me?" Skulduggery asked. "Do I have the right to ask? What made you flinch?"