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 2013-04-04 11:56 am (UTC)(link)
Shopping, Myron recognised. I was also fairly easy, and you. It didn't take a genius. He shook his head as he turned away and led the group into the kitchen. "There's no point. I don't get many visitors. I'll go myself later."

He didn't know what to make of that offer. He still didn't know what to make of Gabe's previous visit. The fact that Gabe was an ambidextrous sorcerer Myron could accept and gloss over, even if he'd never met an ambidextrous Teleporter before. Still, there were many Adepts who specialised in more than one ability, or even two. Gabe wasn't nearly old enough to have mastered such varying disciplines, but there was something about him that... was. The way he looked at you, sometimes. Or maybe it was just the way he looked at Myron. Whatever.

Myron just wasn't used to people being so genuinely nice without an ulterior motive.

Having clean glasses was notable only in that Myron instinctively went to look for some on the table before realising they'd be in the drying rack on the counter. He filled three each with water before turning back around, and saw Pleasant looking at him. The detective tried signing something, but it was a little too fast and incomprehensible for Myron to follow. He gave the skeleton a flat look, and after a moment Pleasant changed tact. He pointed at the clear table, the clean glasses, and signed one word: 'Why?

Myron knew what he meant, but he grunted as he passed out the glasses. "Because offering drinks to your guests is the polite thing to do."
skeletonenigma: (thinking)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-04-04 12:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Letters, Myron didn't know. A, B, and C were just about the only ones - and W, because that was the obvious one. But who else would they be asking about? If there was anyone else who'd plotted to blow up the Sanctuary in the last week, Myron hadn't heard about it. And that was something even someone living at the bottom of the rotting barrel would have heard about.

He sighed, crossed his arms, and leaned back against the counter. "No." Still such a strange sensation, feeling himself speak and feeling the vibrations and knowing he was saying something, but not being able to hear it. Not having any idea what his own volume was. "She's well and truly disappeared. Haven't heard hide nor hair. And believe me, if I had, I'd have told you."

He wanted Marr dead. He wasn't ashamed to admit that, and he didn't regret it. He wanted Marr found, and he wanted Pleasant to be the one to find her, because Pleasant was the one most likely to deal with her outside of the system. Myron only wished he could be there to see it.

"I can set you on the right path, though," he added as an afterthought. "If you give me a minute, I've got some names of the only people in Ireland who would be able to disappear someone so completely even Miss Sorrows herself wouldn't know what happened to them."
skeletonenigma: (journalwriting)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-04-04 04:05 pm (UTC)(link)
There weren't many people on the list. It wouldn't take Pleasant long to go through it - at least, not by himself. Cain was next to him and her lips were moving, and she was probably asking who everyone on that list was. Myron ignored them, let them take their time, finished off his water, and put the glass on the table. After a few seconds, he changed his mind, grabbed it again, and stuck it in the sink.

Help. That was another word Gabe taught Myron almost right away. How this man was standing working with Pleasant - how Pleasant was standing working with him - was a mystery. "Why do you care?" Myron snapped. "You're a detective. I'm sure you have much more important things to worry about than me." Like making Marr pay, for God's sake! What little influence Myron had as an information broker before all this happened was completely gone. He was a nonentity. Even now, he had visitors only because Marr used him. Sent him into the Sanctuary towards certain death mute, deaf, and carrying a bomb.

He had to admit, though. There was something freeing about being able to go for a walk, among sorcerers no less, and not be expecting an attack around every corner. To be asked a question, and know that he had a choice in answering it, no matter what. To be asked questions at all. It made the distant, throbbing pain he could still sometimes feel in his sleep almost worth it.

Pleasant was writing something on the back of the list. Where the skeleton got the pen from, Myron had no idea. He'd wondered before if there was a stack of things somewhere inside the detective's ribcage, or perhaps a hollow bone. He'd never quite worked up the nerve to ask, and he probably never would.
skeletonenigma: (skulnoname)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-04-04 11:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Without quite the same patience for sign language as Gabe had, Skulduggery lifted the list and pointed to the first name on it. "Lunus Dark. I know him. If he was responsible for Marr's disappearance, I would know about it." Not precisely because Dark would have told Skulduggery anything, but because certain contacts keeping an eye on people like Dark would have warned Skulduggery about it long before Marr had the chance to blow anything up. Dark was a dead end. "Malice Downcry retired almost a decade ago. Very forcefully retired. A colleague of mine tried to contact her a few years ago and he turned up dead. Nocturn Solace is dead. Kali Bereft, I've never heard of, and I try to leave options like that for last. Ephraim Tungsten, on the other hand, rings a bell, so that's where we should start."

He flipped the list over to show Myron the message he'd written. Did Marr say anything when she commanded your true name? Was she working with anyone, or did she let anything slip?

Myron glared at the message for a moment before shaking his head. "Not a word. She walked up to me, she used my true name, she gave me the Engine, and I was all set to lose my mind to that damn woman." The glare intensified. "She let me keep that part."

It was one of those rare situations in which Skulduggery was genuinely sympathetic. Marr didn't even have the decency to tell Myron not to be afraid. Using him as a pawn made practical sense, but sending him to die fully aware of what he was about to do? Forcing him to burst his own eardrums? There was no need for that. There was no reason for that beyond Marr's own sadistic tendencies.

And that was one of the reasons Skulduggery numbed himself to sympathy. It led much too quickly to anger. He folded up the list and pocketed it with a nod towards Myron, and a signed 'Thank you.' "Now we just have to track the fellow down. Shouldn't be too difficult."

"Sign language," Valkyrie muttered. "Is there anything you don't speak?"

"Oh, probably some obscure form of traditional Chinese."

"You're not going to start making me learn it all, are you?"

Skulduggery turned an invisible amused eye on her. "Once you're able to defeat the straw dummy without help, we'll start focusing on your ability to insult it in a way it understands. Fair enough?"
skeletonenigma: (jawfallingoff)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-04-05 01:08 am (UTC)(link)
"Ah, yes." Skulduggery turned and pressed a wad of bills into Myron's hand. "Fine work you're doing here. Keep it up."

"He's going to be okay, right?" Valkyrie asked, migrating after Skulduggery towards the front door. "Marr didn't break him, did she?"

"I think she did," Skulduggery disagreed, speaking quietly despite the fact that Myron wouldn't overhear them anyway. "I think he has a long, hard road ahead of him. To be perfectly honest, I don't think he'd pass up the chance to kill Marr himself. But he's on the right track. He's on the right track, and he belongs to himself again. That's a very powerful thing, free will. Let's see what he does with it."

What he did was fold the money Skulduggery gave him and stick it into a back pocket with an acknowledging tilt of his head. "This is all I really need." He hesitated. "Thanks, though."

The word sounded a little dry on his tongue, like he wasn't used to it. Skulduggery tipped his hat to him and turned to go, but Myron stopped him with a loud "Skulduggery. Look... I know I'm the last person who should get to ask favours, but find her. Just... just find her. Make her pay."

Count on it would probably be a little too complicated for Myron's limited knowledge of sign language, so Skulduggery simply nodded.
skeletonenigma: (darkfirewind)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-04-05 02:32 am (UTC)(link)
"I was thinking we should go to where Ephraim Tungsten was last seen," Skulduggery replied cheerfully. "Unfortunately, I have no idea where that is. That means we'll have to ask around. Good old-fashioned legwork. Seedy bars and alleyways. The glamour of being a detective."

"It beats research," Valkyrie agreed wholeheartedly.

"Research. Brilliant idea. Valkyrie - "

"You are not locking me in some library while you two go chasing after bad guys," Valkyrie cut him off, freezing on the path and folding her arms. "Or canoodling, or whatever it is you guys do when you're on your own. Give me a seedy alley any day."

Skulduggery turned back to look at her, and for a long moment he didn't say anything. Valkyrie was beginning to worry she'd said something wrong when he turned back and started walking again, shaking his head. "You spend far too much time with Solomon."

A slow grin spread over Valkyrie's face. "What do you guys do when you're on your own?"

"We chase after bad guys."

"Really?" she asked with a skeptical eyebrow raised. "That's it?"

"That's it. I think the more pertinent question here is what you and Fletcher do when you're on your own."

"Oh, you know. Canoodle. Visit Australia. Plot about new ways to make you do that disapproving noise you make sometimes when you see us together."
skeletonenigma: (this can't be good)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-04-05 12:08 pm (UTC)(link)
For the second time in so many minutes, Valkyrie froze on the sidewalk. "You guys went to the beach? You guys went to the beach? Alone? When?"

"Thank you, Gabe," Skulduggery murmured as he slid a hand under his scarf to tap the sigil on his breastbone. "What a helpful contribution." His original face flowed up over the skull and settled easily into place, a light scowl on its features and a slight tinge of red in its cheeks. Valkyrie couldn't quite help staring at the 'tinge of red' part.

"What did you do there?" she finally managed to ask.

"We had contests over who could manipulate the waves more effectively. If we could focus again, please - "

Valkyrie turned to Gabe instead. "What did you guys do at the beach?" If it was enough to make Skulduggery blush, she had a right to know! For one dizzying moment, Valkyrie almost wished she could see the world the way Solomon did, just so she could see what their souls were doing right now. Only for a moment, though; then she decided she was quite happy not knowing for sure.

"Oh, and also..." she frowned, biting her lip. "Reflections aren't bad, are they? I mean, Bliss's reflections never broke. They never stopped doing what they were supposed to. They were useful. If Bliss didn't die and there weren't so many of them, nothing would have gone wrong, right?"
skeletonenigma: (sit down and let me tell you a story)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-04-05 02:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Skulduggery's hand instinctively went back to his scarf, but when someone passed on the other side of the street who was quite possibly not a sorcerer, he quelled the urge and consciously put his arm back down. His companions both already knew the worst of the worst; in comparison, getting worked up over a little bit of blush seemed laughably ridiculous.

"We did have contests," he added, just a tad resentfully. "I do try not to lie if I don't have to. Gabe's manipulation of water is almost impressive."

Skulduggery was, in fact, beginning to wonder what sailing with the Archangel would be like. They'd never even have to unfurl the sails; give them calm water in the middle of the night off a harbour somewhere, and they could make a sizeable sailboat practically dance over the waves. Sometime in the future, perhaps. In a future where Marr was either dead or behind bars, the people who hired her and tried to kill Solomon dealt with, and Lucifer no longer a looming threat.

"Not long," was Valkyrie's immediate defensive answer. "Just three years. And she doesn't - "

"It," Skulduggery corrected her. Seeing the reflection as a real person wasn't going to help anything, and Valkyrie had an annoyingly persistent habit of referring to it as such.

"It," said Valkyrie. "It doesn't have any magic at all, and the Cleavers have at least a little bit, right? All mine does is stop my parents from worrying about me. What's so bad about that?"
skeletonenigma: (what was that?)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-04-05 03:29 pm (UTC)(link)
That was still going to take some time to get used to; someone knowing Skulduggery's thoughts at all, let alone being able to broadcast anything in return. It unbalanced him for a moment, but he quickly recovered and made the decision to look up renting sailboats off the shore when he next had the chance.

"Yeah." Valkyrie's tone had softened, and even though there was still a stubborn edge to it, a lot of the defensiveness was gone. "Faery offspring that take over someone's life from them. They're not real, are they? Skulduggery, are faeries real?"

"Whether they're real or not doesn't matter," Skulduggery told her. "Gabe has a point. You use that reflection a lot more than is recommended. You've fooled two sorcerers with it, and you almost fooled Dusk."

"So it's, what, going to move a step up in the world and try to get rid of me?"

Skulduggery didn't answer. The truth was, he'd never been expecting Valkyrie to stay this entrenched in the world of magic for so long without, at the very least, letting her parents know. And while he wasn't going to push her in one direction or another, perhaps it was time for that to change. Valkyrie may have wanted a part of her life to remain normal, but the longer it did so, the greater the fallout would be when it all fell apart.

She'd resorted to Necromancy in the year Skulduggery was gone. Death magic. The magic of Lord Vile. He shuddered to think how little time she spent at home during those months.
skeletonenigma: (how easy do you think this is?)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-04-05 10:19 pm (UTC)(link)
"That's not - " Valkyrie started to say.

She didn't know what to finish the sentence with. Not true? The fact that the reflection didn't have a soul was true. Even Skulduggery said that. That was the whole point. The spell Skulduggery gave her was meant for temporary replacements, and that was all. Reflections weren't meant to learn. They weren't meant to develop ideas or thoughts of their own. They weren't meant to do anything but be temporary.

Valkyrie always meant for her reflection to be temporary. She wasn't going to send it off to college or anything. She just... she just didn't want her parents to worry about her. She didn't want anyone to worry about her. She'd only wanted the reflection for the remainder of school, really, and then when that was over...

She didn't know. She'd never thought that far ahead. All Valkyrie had cared about for the last year was getting Skulduggery back; as long as her parents didn't think there was reason to worry, she hadn't given her reflection a second thought.

But it had been acting oddly. Blank spots in the memories it transferred to Valkyrie, and little things it did sometimes - like sighing. Sighing. As if it was annoyed.

Yeah. Valkyrie knew exactly why she was getting irrationally angry at an Archangel. Because he was right, and she just didn't want him to be. She didn't want to agree that she basically gave up her life with her parents three years ago. She didn't.

Even so, she deflated. "I'm not going to drag my parents into this. What am I supposed to do? Start thinking of the reflection as an 'it?' Would that fix it?"
skeletonenigma: (tender yet smug)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-04-06 04:34 am (UTC)(link)
No. No, it wasn't a household Valkyrie wanted her new little sister to be born into - or brother, or whatever. She didn't want the soulless reflection anywhere near the baby. That was already something she'd been worrying about. She didn't want to lie to her parents, she didn't want to be gone so often, and she definitely didn't like being called out on all of this without the chance to even look away and blink back the angry tears she knew were coming.

"Gordon didn't give us the choice," she said, her voice shaking. "Gordon was just trying to protect us."

And look where it got him. Murdered before he could so much as finish his last book, nothing left of him now but an Echo Stone in his study that Valkyrie wasn't even allowed to tell anyone about. More lies. More secrets. She was sick of secrets.

"What am I supposed to tell them?" she demanded. "That I've been off putting my life in danger every day? That I'm a huge part of this cult my dad's so worried about? He's so sure this is all just some family myth, you know, and that Gordon was sick, and that there was nothing they could do to help him, and - that I've been lying all this time? That it wasn't even me? That the last time they really knew me was three years ago - "

She broke off, because her voice was cracking and she just knew if she kept going she'd start crying. She was not going to start crying. She pulled her face away and walked ahead of them, walked where she couldn't see Gabe and where she didn't have to face anything he was saying.

"If you don't," Skulduggery's voice came from behind her, gently sympathetic, "when will you? It'll only get harder as the years go on, and then you'll be facing a choice where it's either tell them the truth, or cut them from your life forever. Worse, by then, the choice will seem obvious. All done in the name of protection, of course."

The way he said it, the way his tone grew almost wistful, made Valkyrie stop and turn back around. "How did you handle it when it was you and your family?"

His face was carefully blank, but she could still see the trepidation in his eyes as he tilted his head to the side. "You don't want to handle it the way I handled it."

"Why not?"

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I'm not what you might call an ideal role model."
skeletonenigma: (just sitting)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-04-06 12:11 pm (UTC)(link)
Hugs from angels were different from ordinary hugs. There was something more to them, something comforting, something soothing. Something that reminded her it was perfectly okay to let go sometimes, that she shouldn't feel ashamed about it, that it was even expected, and everything would still turn out for the best. That her parents would still love her and that, in the end, they would listen.

She still felt a little shame, so she didn't actually start crying. But she did bury her head in Gabe's shoulder and just stand there for a little while. The number of times she'd wanted to break down in front of her parents over the last year, every time another lead was another dead end and she woke up in the middle of the night from constant nightmares of Skulduggery's pain, Skulduggery's torture, with the Faceless Ones in a place she couldn't reach him and couldn't save him.

Being able to share that burden with her parents wouldn't have made anything any easier. It wouldn't have brought her any closer to the Murder Skull. It wouldn't have brought Skulduggery back. It wouldn't have done anything but give her parents more to worry over. And yet, sometimes the most comforting thing in the world... sometimes, it was just a hug. A hug from someone who cared.

What was the phrase Gabe used? Sometimes the greatest measure of trust and love is being willing to burden those whom we want to protect with those very secrets.

Because it had nothing to do with her. Or even Skulduggery. She should have broken down in front of her parents during this past year simply because they had a right to know she wasn't happy. That something was wrong. Even if she never told them anything else, she should have let on that something was wrong.

But like Skulduggery said. The longer she waited, the harder it would get.

There was a betraying tear on her cheek by the time Gabe pulled away, and Valkyrie quickly reached up to wipe it off her face. "Could we not involve them until we've saved the world from Satan, please? I don't want them to get hurt."