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: (welltailoredsuit)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-22 04:23 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, I'm free," was Fletcher's immediate and slightly eager response. Whether that was because he enjoyed being helpful, or because he was eager for a chance to see Valkyrie, Erskine didn't know and wasn't going to pry. He hoped it was a mixture of both, though.

"Low and Cain?" Saracen, after taking a few moments to regain his balance, managed to ask. "Tanith Low and Valkyrie Cain? I really do pick the best times to come back, don't I?"

"And we'd all love to know how you do that," Erskine muttered. "Saracen - "

"No, no, no. I get to ask the questions right now. Just as soon as I figure out where to start. Let's see..." Saracen walked over to Corrival's desk and hopped up onto it, then leaned forward with an expression several times more eager than Fletcher's was. There was still a noticeable edge of disbelief to it, but the eagerness was slowly taking over. "No, I know exactly where to start. When can I meet whoever Skulduggery is smitten with? And how does that work? He's a skeleton. Maybe Archangels can find a way around that. Listen to me. Archangels. So an Archangel was responsible for the red Dublin fiasco? Aren't they supposed to be subtle? Or is that because they come from an alternate reality? Is that where Skulduggery met them? Are we absolutely sure Skulduggery isn't under some kind of spell? Or curse?"

Erskine had never heard Saracen ask so many questions all at once. Usually, either he knew the answers to his own questions, or he just wasn't interested enough to be so curious.
vexingshieldbearer: (for satellites)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-07-22 11:47 pm (UTC)(link)
"Well, let's see." Dexter leaned back in his chair, and put his feet up on Corrival's desk. Corrival grunted and pulled some of his paperwork further away, but didn't actually stop him. Dexter grinned. "Probably just as soon as Skulduggery stops sulking and they rejoin us authoritative folk. Apparently it's a soul-connection, quote unquote, literally. Yes, an Archangel is responsible for the red Dublin fiasco, although he-slash-she claims it's actually Fletcher there's fault for suggesting it."

He pointed to the Teleporter. Corrival eyed him thoughtfully. "You painted Dublin red without anyone catching you on camera? Either you're even more talented than I thought or you were both cheating by using the Archangel's powers."

"They're supposed to be subtle but they can apparently choose, and frequently do choose, not to be," Dexter continued apparently without paying attention to Corrival's aside. "Skulduggery first met his boyfriend in an alternate dimension, and yes, I'm totally sure he is in fact under a spell. The spell of true love."

He crooned the last. Corrival threw a pillow at him, hitting him full in the face, but Dexter was too busy laughing to care.
skeletonenigma: (tie)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-23 04:02 pm (UTC)(link)
"Cheated?" Fletcher's voice went high with indignation. "We didn't cheat! You think I don't know Dublin by now? Rafe just made the whole thing go faster, that's all. And it was my suggestion."

Erskine still wasn't sure if he believed that or not, but Rafe wasn't trying to claim the contrary, so he gave the teenager the benefit of the doubt.

Saracen frowned as Dexter was creamed with the pillow, and it bounced unceremoniously down onto the floor. "Do they come from a dimension where everyone knows they exist, or are people really just that oblivious no matter what reality you're in?"

"Something tells me the answer is oblivious." In lieu of a cranky ex-Necromancer to continue bothering, Erskine poked Saracen twice in the shoulder. "What, no comment on Skulduggery?"

"Hey. I enjoy my friendship with Skulduggery. Who he falls in love with is his business, and I respect him enough not to go talking about it behind his back." Saracen kept up the look of mocking innocence for a few seconds longer, and then it dropped into a mocking grin. "Actually, I'm really just terrified of his reaction when he finds out I've been making fun of him."

"He'll take it in stride. He's gotten better at that recently."

"Yeah," said Saracen sadly, "but with my luck, I'll be making fun of him just as he's stepping through the doorway behind me. I'm not going to risk it. Besides, aren't you supposed to tread lightly around angels?"

Erskine laughed. "Not these angels. Believe me, these angels will make all of the jokes you're thinking of, and more besides. Well, one of them will, anyway."

"Really? Well, in that case, would this soul-connection mean that they're constantly having - "

"We're back!" Tanith announced cheerfully as she and Valkyrie walked into the Grand Mage's office unannounced. "See, Val? Told you Fletcher would be here. Also, we left Tipstaff a little out of sorts, so if he comes in complaining, I'm sorry in advance."

Erskine shot Saracen a smile. "Well, it wasn't Skulduggery. You sure you've got your magic screwed on straight there?"

Saracen shook his head. "I think the universe might actually be giving me a break for once."
vexingshieldbearer: (if everyone loved)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-07-24 10:10 am (UTC)(link)
"Psh." Dexter waved a careless hand. "You tread on eggshells way too much. His control's better than that. Or maybe I'm just a masochist."

Masochist. Let's go with masochist, said a voice in his head which sounded exactly like Rover Larrikin. Of course it did. It was a very Rover thing to say. Dexter chose to ignore it, because he wasn't, after all, Descry and couldn't hear voices.

"One of them will tease the Holy out of Skulduggery," Dexter said, "just because he can. Or she can, or whatever." He scowled, but it was a self-mocking scowl. "He turned into a woman and sat on my lap just to make me squeak. And the other one took away my voice just because, and waited until I begged them in prayer before giving it back. That's what kind of angels they are. They're teasing angels. They're mischief angels. They can't be trusted."

"Well, they can't be trusted to not paint Dublin red, anyway," said Corrival, "and I've seen the other one make worried pouty eyes at Skulduggery like you wouldn't believe. Gabriel's got him wrapped around his pinkie."

Dexter was too busy laughing his head off to react properly to Tanith and Valkyrie's entrance. He and Erskine had, in fact, had very similar discussion about that very same topic. It figured Saracen would think of it too. "You'll need to ask the Prophet over there about that," he said to Saracen, getting a hold of himself. "Apparently he can see them. Interacting. Soulfully. The voyeur. Hey, Tanith. Hi, Val. What'd you do to Tipstaff?"

Corrival sighed. "And Tipstaff wonders why I never get any work done."
skeletonenigma: (skulblue)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-24 03:14 pm (UTC)(link)
"Worried pouty eyes?" Saracen nodded. "Ah. I see. Preying on Skulduggery's natural inclination to protect people. No wonder he fell so - wait a minute, Gabriel?"

It still hadn't properly occurred to Saracen what Archangels meant, apparently. Even mentioning Merlin's name hadn't been enough to remind him that he would know these angels' names. He would know them very well. Everyone in the world would. Erskine toyed with the idea of putting Saracen at ease by reassuring him that these angels were nothing like he'd probably pictured the Bible versions to be, but decided it might not actually be all that comforting.

"Nothing," Tanith promised Dexter. "Nothing bad."

"He kept saying we needed an appointment to see any of the Elders," Valkyrie complained. "I kept trying to tell him that was stupid and I'd never needed one before. He just didn't listen."

"He couldn't really do anything to stop us," Tanith said with a shrug. "I think he sort of muttered angrily after us, though. Hey, Saracen."

Saracen didn't answer, and Tanith's smile turned gentle. "Aw. Did he just get the talk? How's he holding up? Actually, how much of it did he already know?"

Erskine wasn't aware that the two of them knew each other, but now that he was, it didn't take too long to guess how they knew each other. He made a mental note to take Saracen aside later and tell him about Ghastly. "Most of the important stuff," he answered Tanith, "but he thought his magic was breaking down on him. Valkyrie, this is Saracen," he added just as the teenager was haughtily opening her mouth. "Fellow former member of the Dead Men. Just knows things. Saracen, this is Valkyrie Cain. I'm sure you've heard of her."

Saracen greeted her with a feeble wave.
vexingshieldbearer: (and swallowed their pride)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-07-24 11:08 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yep," Dexter said cheerfully. "Gabriel. Gabe. Doe-eyed, curly-haired and adorably oblivious about most things human except, apparently, love and puppies and the medical use of hugs."

"You already had an appointment, anyway," Corrival said to Valkyrie. "I just didn't tell him about it. He seems to think it would be displaying favouritism for you lot to have an open-door invitation and I'm not about to explain why you are, by necessity, my eyes and ears outside the Sanctuary. Somehow I don't think he'd react well to the news that Lord Vile is still wandering around our midst."

"Which brings us back to the medical use of hugs," Dexter pointed out, and sat up to spread his arms at Saracen. "Are you in need of a medical hug, Saracen? I've got at least one to spare, so long as you don't poke my ribs too hard."

"What did Sweetgrass have to say?" Corrival asked Tanith, pointedly ignoring Dexter. It was the one and only way he was ever going to get anything done.
skeletonenigma: (noimagination)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-25 04:05 am (UTC)(link)
"Either I've fallen asleep and the past month has been one really long dream, or I've walked right into a corny children's cartoon," Saracen muttered. "Yep. Only two possibilities. Nothing else could be at work here. Gabe?"

"I wouldn't blame Tipstaff," Valkyrie agreed sagely. "No one reacted well to that. People still aren't reacting well to that. At least it's made the Roarhaven sorcerers stop acting so giddy all the time."

"Roarhaven sorcerers were acting giddy?" Fletcher asked as he snaked an arm around his girlfriend's waist.

"Are you kidding? First Marr tries to blow up the building the Sanctuary is housed in, then someone else tries to have one of the Elders killed, like, three different times? Lord Vile is pretty much the only person no one wants to see come back, not even Roarhaven."

"And he won't," Erskine added with a tone of finality. "Come back. Ever again. Saracen knows, by the way."

The Saracen in question smiled weakly. "I think a medical hug would probably be a great idea. You sure you can't spare more than one?"

In order to answer Corrival, Tanith had to pointedly ignore Saracen - and the ensuing hug, which was one of the most adorable things she'd ever seen even out of the corner of her eye. Especially out of the corner of her eye. "She sketched them herself," Tanith reported in as business-like a demeanour as she could manage, handing over the folded up sheets of paper. "Quiver's office, bedroom, and where they both are in relation to the entrance of the Temple. Apparently, we have a better chance of catching him alone in his bedroom, but we need to be careful because he's paranoid and will probably attack at first. She also wanted to make it clear that if we ever need her for anything in the future, she'd be more than happy to help. Being outside of the Temple is doing wonders for her."
vexingshieldbearer: (confusing stars)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-07-25 04:30 am (UTC)(link)
"He insisted on us calling him that," Dexter said with a shrug. "Same with Rafe. Apparently they don't care all that much about formalities. Who'd have thought?" Then he grinned, beckoning. "C'mere then, Rue. Time for cuddles. Just wait until you hear about their Daddy."

Saracen didn't resist in the least as he got pulled down onto Dexter's lap. Dexter wasn't going to admit this in a million years, but he'd missed this. This was the nearest thing he could have to what they'd had before, when they were all alive and together. Rover would have cuddled Saracen. Rover would have cuddled everyone in the room. He was ... a lot like Raphael, actually. Just even less inhibited. More human.

Dexter frowned. He had this weird feeling, a prickling on the back of his neck, like he was being watched.

"She was able to sketch Quiver's bedroom?" Corrival asked, lifting an eyebrow and taking the pages to leaf through them. He beckoned at Fletcher, holding up the blueprints. "Could you Teleport into his room based on these?"
skeletonenigma: (thinking)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-25 05:24 am (UTC)(link)
Dexter may not have admitted in a million years that he'd missed the closeness of the Dead Men, but Erskine would. And had, several times. The sentiment was clear on Dexter's face, and Erskine shared it one hundred percent. There were only so many suicide missions you could go on with a group of powerful sorcerers before you were closer to them than family, and there were several missions Erskine would have loved to experience again. Like when they first used the name Saracen Rue. When Skulduggery managed to convince a mortal nobleman to wear his wife's clothes at a house party. Saracen's first mission with them, when they cut the estimated time of completion in half because of the sorcerer's unique and highly irritating ability of knowing exactly where their target was and what secret passage to use to get there.

Erskine would have joined in the hug, if he thought he could. He was technically still reeling from his own discoveries, when all of this was first told to him and no one had been around to give him a hug. But no; there was probably some rule against it. It probably made Elders look weak.

It was, however, because Erskine was watching their hug so closely that he noticed Saracen's head jerk up, in a manner very reminiscent of when his magic warned him about an imminent danger or trap. The sorcerer didn't immediately cry out, however, and it left Erskine watching him with a puzzled expression and a furrowed brow.

"Apparently," Tanith was saying behind him. "She was a nurse, she said."

"I... don't know." Fletcher sighed. "Probably, if you gave me a day with Rafe. But he's not around right now. Also, I really don't like the idea of being attacked by a Necromancer."
vexingshieldbearer: (if everyone cared)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-07-25 05:42 am (UTC)(link)
The look of hesitant yearning on Erskine's face was probably what drew Dexter's attention. At least, that's what Dexter was going to say. The expression was so visible and almost raw that there was no wonder Dexter could feel it. That must have been it. He rolled his eyes and motioned for Erskine to get over here right now, you idiot, because he had enough hugs to spare.

Which was why he was startled when there was suddenly a gorgeous African woman in the room.

"Not like who's around where?" Rafe asked, clapping a hand on Fletcher's back. He--she?--gave Erskine a shove to the back. "Also you oughta get over there joinin' the cuddle. I can take care of the new meat." With a grin she waved at Saracen. "Hi, new meat!"

"Down in front, Angel," Corrival said absently, examining the blueprints and tapping his fingers on the desk. "No one summoned you. We're working on Vile's armour, not your family squabble."

"What, so I'm not wanted?" Rafe pouted. "Thinkin' I should object to this. I'm always wanted. I'm too beautiful to not be wanted."
skeletonenigma: (welltailoredsuit)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-25 03:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Fletcher leaped back with a yelp, practically dragging Valkyrie along with him. The poor kid was probably used to being the only Teleporter in existence. That, or he was feeling a schoolboy's nonspecific guilt over being confronted by a teacher.

"You're all doing this on purpose, aren't you?" Saracen's voice came out vaguely muffled, because he'd buried his face into Dexter's shoulder almost as soon as Rafe appeared and refused to come up again. "Please let me go crawl into a hole for a minute."

"We have a shortage of holes at the moment," Erskine told him as he eventually decided an Archangel's word probably had precedence over anything a dusty old book had to say, and enveloped the younger sorcerer between himself and Dex. "We can, however, make you one."

"Do you realise what you just - "

"Yes. I don't care."

He felt Saracen shift slightly and chuckle faintly. "You'll probably have to ask my father for permission on that one."

"Alas, Descry isn't available, so I'll just have to endure getting permission from each and every one of your uncles. How about it, Dex?"
vexingshieldbearer: (and i'm singing)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-07-25 11:43 pm (UTC)(link)
"Well, I was up until the Archangel decided to up the stakes," Dexter muttered, choosing not to look at said Archangel except to throw a dirty look vaguely in his direction. "How can I top an Archangel? Am I even allowed to top an Archangel? I'm going to stop talking now."

He shuffled over in the seat to give Erskine a little more space to sit down, laughing quietly and spreading his hands at the Elder to let him join the hug. "Elder Reveller Ravel has too many cares to care about trivialities right now," he informed Saracen. "But I can think of a few holes we can shuffle you into."

"If you three will keep your hormones under control at least to the end of the meeting," Corrival said, "we can discuss something relevant." But, Dexter noticed, there was a persistent upraise at the corner of his mouth. Dexter knew that look. Corrival was enjoying having the band all together again too.

"Besides," Rafe said innocently, "who said he's not available?"

Dexter was fairly sure the whole room stopped. Corrival looked up from Saffron's sketches. Dexter turned to stare over Saracen's shoulder, his heart skipping two or three beats. "I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"I said, 'who said he's not available?'"

"Descry's dead."

Raphael shrugged. "And?"

"That usually means unavailability."

"So?"

Dexter stared some more and found his mouth was too dry to actually ask the last question. But he remembered the feeling of being watched, and Saracen's little head-jerk when he 'just knew' something, and hearing Rover's voice loud and clear in his head. Rafe grinned at him.
skeletonenigma: (closeup)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-27 02:15 am (UTC)(link)
That usually means unavailability. 'Usually,' of course, in a world that wasn't used to the existence of Archangels. And even then, this world was already primed for it. Just look at Skulduggery. Up until a couple of months ago, no one knew why he was still walking around. And most people still didn't. There were dozens of other examples as well, from vampires to zombies to ghosts and everything in between.

Why couldn't Archangels bring people back from the dead?

Erskine hadn't thought about that before. The idea just hadn't occurred. He'd grown so used to the pair of them, Descry and Rover, being dead and gone that he'd stopped trying to find alternatives or convincing himself there was still a way to change things a long time ago. He had, in a nutshell, gotten over it. Except that now, with the way he snapped to attention and didn't stop staring at Rafe, you wouldn't have thought it.

When Rafe didn't say anything else, Erskine rounded wordlessly on Saracen. But Saracen didn't say anything either, too busy being unreasonably tense and staring at a very specific point just over Dexter's shoulder.

"They're here?" Erskine looked too, but he didn't see anything, not even a vague outline. Because they both would be, not just Descry. If there was a chance in hell, pun completely and definitely intended, that they could all talk... Rover Larrikin wouldn't miss it for anything.

"They're here?" he repeated, this time at the African angel. "Right now?"
scryinghope: (but hold me fast)

[personal profile] scryinghope 2013-07-27 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
"Of course we're here right now," Rover exploded, flapping his hands before Erskine's eyes. "If we'd known we could leave through the Pearly Gates the same way we went in, we'd have always been here right now!" He pointed at the newly-made Elder, prodding his nose. "You'll just have to settle for us having had you on constant Pay-Per-View Upstairs. You're lucky there's no such thing as shortages in Heaven, or there'd be a definite peanut shortage."

He whirled around to the same Archangel Erskine was staring at. Said Archangel was laughing his head off. "Come on, man, you said you had tricks to show us! You need to show us tricks! I have to throw some peanuts at people! Descry, make him tell us what his tricks are. Or just read them out."

"Why?" Descry asked with that little impish smile. "What makes you think I can read an angel?"

"If you can't read angels after a century in Heaven, I'm disowning you."

Descry laughed. He wasn't even looking at Rover. He was looking at Saracen and just happened to be standing just behind Dexter's shoulder. Rover was dead and used to the whole 'just a soul' thing, but it was still creepy the way Saracen was looking directly at him. Saracen couldn't see the metaphysical plane. Only people like Finbar Wong could see the metaphysical plane, and then only to a certain definition of 'see'.

The look on Descry's face would still have made Rover's chest clench if he'd even had a physical body. It wasn't an expression they'd seen often when they were alive, because no one knew Saracen was his son to begin with and he couldn't afford to let on. Soft tenderness, love that was all Descry's own, the faintest edge of regret. Rover wondered whether Saracen could feel his father's hand on his head, in his hair.

Rover looked at Rafe. "Come on. You can't put off Descry getting a hug from his son, can you?"

"Aw, you lot." Rafe smiled at him. "You're incorrigible." He came over and clapped a hand on Rover's shoulder, and he yelped at the fission of power that ran through him. It felt like an electric shock except it didn't hurt--it was almost pleasurable, in fact--and all at once he could feel an echo of gravity and the weight he would have had if he'd actually been alive.

"Hey!" he complained, slapping the angel's hand away. Rafe laughed again and moved toward Descry. "Gently! I meant gently! What, an Archangel can't do gently?"

"Rover?" Dexter's voice came out hoarse and soft, and Rover whirled around. Then he grinned.

"Oh, we're live. Greetings from the Dead Men, Upstairs Division!"
Edited 2013-07-27 02:52 (UTC)
skeletonenigma: (smug)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-27 03:39 am (UTC)(link)
He knew what was coming. Weeks later, Erskine would think back to this moment and realise that he had to have known what was coming, because it was much too bloody obvious for him not to. His body didn't seem to agree, though, since Rover's appearance sent Erskine stumbling backwards into the wall with all the grace of someone reeling from deep shock by... well, by stumbling backwards into walls.

The only good thing to be said about it was that Erskine could recover quickly. And recover quickly he did; he couldn't physically stop himself from stumbling, so he held a hand limply over his heart instead and deliberately quickened his breathing. "Oh, Rova!" he admonished in a very soft spoken, very American-South sort of voice. "Don't startle me like that! You very nearly gave me a heart attack!"

He'd done this once before. It had been for an entirely different reason back then, but the general circumstances were the same. He debated taking the act all the way through, but then settled for a shorter version of it instead and placed the back of his hand on his forehead. "I do feel," he said in the same breathy voice, "as if I'm havin' an attack of the vapours."

Saracen hadn't even turned his head towards where Rover appeared, unerringly and unflinchingly staring at where Rafe was striding towards, but the others were shocked enough over the sudden appearance of a stranger without the added worry that one of their Elders had gone totally and completely insane. Valkyrie in particular was pale, gripping Fletcher's hand and looking helplessly towards Tanith. "Okay," she managed, "what just happened?"

Tanith mutely shook her head. She had no idea.
vexingshieldbearer: (and i'm singing)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-07-27 04:02 am (UTC)(link)
Dexter couldn't talk. He couldn't move, either, actually. It was just as well he was already sitting down, although his grip on Saracen went slack. He just stared at Rover. He couldn't do anything else. It was Rover. It was Rover's grin, Rover's words, his mannerisms--it was Rover, suddenly poofed into sight with a gleam of sunlight in a windowless room.

Dexter needed a moment. He couldn't handle this.

"Forgive me, m'love!" Rover leapt forward and seized Erskine's hand, his smile gone and accent very suddenly a blurry Southern brogue. "But we come 'pon each other so irregular-like. I just couldn't keep away if I had the chance. But I've gotta confession, m'love. You're not my only love."

Corrival had his head in his hands. His shoulders were shaking. He could have been laughing, except that when he lifted his head his eyes were bright and shiny. "Descry," he said, nodding at someone over Dexter's shoulder.

"Hello, Corrival," Descry said just behind Dexter's head. Dexter flinched, his head jerked, and only then did he see the hand in Saracen's hair. A moment later he felt a weight land on his head, a second comforting hand, and closed his eyes. He was trembling, and hugged Saracen tighter, and couldn't even begin to stop the tears from falling.

But that was okay. He didn't have to hide things from the Dead Men, and it was even more stupid hiding it from Descry.
skeletonenigma: (thinking)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-27 05:46 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm not your..." Erskine regained his balance, straightened up, and slapped Rover in the face. It was a stage-slap, one that used both hands to add to the noise so the imagined pain from it would make the casual observer flinch. "How dare you?" he demanded. "Is she prettier than me? Is she younger?" He went for another stage-slap, but changed his mind halfway through and punched Rover in the arm instead. It was a very solid arm. It was a very fleshy, hard, solid arm. "How dare you? How dare you abandon me?"

He'd abandoned the accent, and most of the act, by the time he punched Rover's arm a third time. "How dare you abandon us and resort to spying on us from the afterlife? Neither of you tried hard enough. Neither of you have the drive or the sheer bloodymindedness of Skulduggery, and that - that needs to be - "

He stopped talking then, because it was getting remarkably difficult over the large choked-up knot growing in his throat.
vexingshieldbearer: (if everyone cared)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-07-27 06:03 am (UTC)(link)
"Ow!" Rover rubbed his arm, looking a little stunned, because that had actually hurt. He wasn't sure if it was meant to hurt when he was technically dead. He fully intended to demand what Rafe had done wrong, except that Erskine was crying and Rover ... had to do something about that.

Which was why he stepped forward and pulled Erskine into a tight hug. "Well, gee, I'm sorry I'm not a bundle of contained wrath like Skulduggery," he said. "I chose to be a bundle of overwhelming charm instead. It's kind of lost on the Angel Contingent, but eh." He shrugged. "I'm winning them over."

"One by one?" Descry asked dryly. Rover shuffled Erskine around like they were dancing an exceedingly close two-step and pointed at him.

"Exactly. It's working."

"Is it?" Corrival asked Descry. The redhead nodded ruefully.

"I have to admit, it is. They like him up there. He fits in perfectly."

"That's a frightening thought."

"And you!" Rover pointed accusingly at Rafe without letting go of Erskine in the least. "You said we could have fake bodies! You didn't say anything about people being able to leave bruises!"

"But I thought you'd like that," Rafe whined. Rover laughed.

"Have I mentioned that I love the Angel Contingent? Hey, can you conjure me a bowl of peanuts?"

"Promise I'm not gonna get caught in the crossfire?"

"Sorry, no guarantees."

Rafe pretended to think that over and then shrugged. "Eh, what the Hell. Let me know when you're done with your dancing lesson."
skeletonenigma: (journalwriting)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-27 01:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Conversation had grown a little fuzzy in Erskine's mind, coming in filtered like the room was suddenly filled with water and sound was moving slower. He only realised that Rover was moving him around when someone said something about a dancing lesson, and then it seemed only fair to validate the accusation, and so Erskine moved his hand down Rover's arm and began to lead.

"All this time?" Saracen was asking. He'd returned the tightness of Dexter's hug without blinking, but he hadn't taken his eyes off Descry - hence not blinking. He wasn't referring to the same thing as Erskine, because he didn't have to. He knew exactly when the pair of aptly named Dead Men reappeared. He was referring instead to the times over the last couple of days when he felt exactly what he felt now - a gentle and loving hand ruffling his hair.

"They're the Dead Men, aren't they?" Valkyrie asked Tanith quietly.

"That's... what I would guess, yeah."

"I didn't know two of them died," she pressed.

"Neither did I. You're looking at me? You know how little Skulduggery talks about the war? Ghastly's even worse than that."
vexingshieldbearer: (when nobody died)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-07-27 01:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Without missing a beat Rover let Erskine spin him on the floor in front of Corrival's desk, the motion now less a lumbering shuffle to see over the Elder's shoulder and more a proper, if contained, waltz. "We couldn't have Skulduggery be the only dead man in the unit," he told the ladies cheerfully. "That would've been misrepresentation!"

Rover caught Descry smiling down at Saracen. The redhead hadn't stopped looking at his son since they arrived, Rover was sure. "All this time," Descry agreed, running his hand through Saracen's hair again in that manner he had done so infrequently when he was alive. "Time doesn't pass the same way Upstairs. Once Raphael found us there, he could bring us back out almost instantly."

"It's just the whole 'being on the physical plane again' part that's weirding us out," Rover finished, letting Erskine spin him out and then curtseying to his partner. He held out his hands to Dexter. "Is my wife too overwhelmed by the vapours to dance with me? This is your last chance before I start yelling at you all for being idiots, but I thought I'd wait until Skulduggery gets here before I do that."

Dexter stared at his hand and then up at Rover's face. That laughing face Dexter inexplicably wanted to punch. He lifted an eyebrow. "For your information," he said frostily, "you are my wife and I am the husband here. And I am always at the ready. My stamina is impeccable."

"Prove it." Yep, that was definitely Rover's smug, challenging grin. The one he used when he knew he was being annoying and knew equally it would work perfectly in getting Dexter out of a funk.

Dexter got up, forcing Saracen to his feet, and then pushed Saracen at Descry. "This is yours, I believe." Then he turned to Erskine, straightening his coat. "Pardon me, good sir, but I feel the need to cut in."

"Oh, get over here and dance with me, Dex," Rover ordered with a laugh, grabbing him and whirling him around. "We can pretend it's our anniversary if you want."

"I don't need to pretend that," Dexter told him, struggling for a brief moment to lead before giving up because, really, he wasn't in any shape to lead anyone. One the first pass, he saw Descry pull Saracen into an embrace. On another, he saw Corrival shamelessly wiping his eyes with his sleeve. On the third he saw Rafe grinning and shining like a miniature, unobtrusive sun. "Bloody angels," Dexter grumbled, but it was buried into Rover's shoulder, and thick with tears.

"How?" Corrival asked Rafe. "Are they actually--I mean, can you actually ...?"

"Sort-of," Raphael said with a shrug, his accent gone. He was seated cross-legged on one of the bureaus. He was frowning in thought. "There aren't any rules on it. I've never actually tried to do it properly. It's just never been done, except by the Boss."

"So Larrikin and Hopeless--"

"They're not actually alive," Rafe said, his voice gentle. Dexter closed his eyes and swallowed hard, and gripped Rover tighter. "They're just souls now. What I gave them is enough for three days, but then their bodies will fade and they'll go back to the inhabiting the other plane."

"And that's it?" Corrival demanded. Dexter wasn't sure if he was glad or not that his old general was taking command, even with eyes bright and shiny as his were. "They just go back to being dead?"

"They're already dead," Rafe countered.

"But Rafe promised to teach us tricks," Rover said brightly, with an extra upbeat twirl in their steps. "Tricks which include how to influence the physical plane. And how to manifest on it under our own power. That way we won't need Angel Airlines to shove us out the airlock every time. We can take our own personal jet to the Lands of the Gravity Laden!"

Dexter took a breath and it came out as a laugh. A choked, watery laugh which was relieved and a furious at once, and then smoothed into a joyful release. He tried to bury it in Rover's shoulder but couldn't. There was no point. So instead he just laughed, and let Rover lead him in a tuneless waltz around the Grand Mage's office.
skeletonenigma: (journalwriting)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-27 11:14 pm (UTC)(link)
It was Fletcher who snapped Valkyrie out of her stunned revering trance, and it was by leaning over to speak quietly into her ear. "Should, um... should I go and get Skulduggery and Ghastly?"

Valkyrie looked at them, at Saracen whom she'd only just met being reunited with someone who could only be his father, at Erskine Ravel who'd given up any and all pretense at being regal to practically tackle the father-son pair onto the floor, at Corrival who was fighting back tears and at Dexter Vex who was dancing with one of the strangest men she'd ever met.

"Yeah," she decided. "But don't tell them why." Valkyrie imagined seeing, actually seeing, Skulduggery's reaction, and smiled. "Just Teleport them here. Tell Skulduggery to have his skin up, too. And if Gabe is with him, bring him too."

"What about Shudder?"

Valkyrie hesitated. She didn't really think that was her call to make. "I don't know. Ask Ghastly if that's a good idea."

Fletcher nodded and vanished, pulling out his phone as he went. He just missed Saracen squealing on the floor under Erskine's sudden weight, and that was what broke Tanith - she doubled over laughing at the sight.

Valkyrie silently begged Fletcher to hurry up, because she really didn't want to break down laughing until she had a chance to see the full reunion. Skulduggery had told her some stories about the war, enough that she knew what sort of reputation the Dead Men had, but she didn't know why they had it. Watching Dexter and the man called Rover dancing together... she thought she could finally understand why.

Valkyrie's plan to keep from laughing failed when Erskine didn't get up from his tackle-hug and instead propped himself up on his elbows. "This doesn't count as incest, does it?" he asked. "Or... well, necrophiliac incest? What does this qualify as?"

It was suddenly obvious where the reputation came from.
vexingshieldbearer: (confusing stars)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-07-27 11:38 pm (UTC)(link)
"A snugglefest," Rover called over the sound of Descry's laughter, adding in a little spin for Dexter. "A necrophiliac snugglefest! Did you know, Dex, that you're the first man to be a necrophiliac dancer?"

"So all those times I danced with Skulduggery don't count?"

"Skulduggery knows better than to let any of you dance with him," Corrival interjected. "Except for that time during Halloween, and I'm not sure that counts given he had to pretend to be inanimate."

Rover stuck out his tongue as he passed. "Details. I'm not sure Skulduggery counts at properly dead, anyway."

"He's a skeleton." Corrival lifted an eyebrow. "What else can he be?"

"He never made it Upstairs, though, did he?"

"Upstairs." Dexter shook his head, pulling back so he could contribute more to the waltz without needing to blot his tears or muffle his laughter on Rover's shoulder. "I think I'm insulted. You went and got a promotion and didn't warn me about it. You're my wife, Rover. You're meant to warn me about these things before they happen."

"It was a sudden transfer," Rover said. "I didn't have much choice. Oi, Descry, are you still semi-alive over there or are you going to die again?" The redhead was on the bottom of the pile, and laughing with any apparent need to stop for breath. He didn't answer Rover; he just reached up and pulled Erskine down again, and hugged them both fiercely. "Really," Rover continued, turning Dexter on the floor, "you'd think after a century in Heaven he'd have improved on his stamina."

"My stamina is fine," Descry said, his voice muffled. "You're the one who was always leaping up and down and shouting while throwing peanuts at the screen."

"People were being stupid! I had to yell at the stupid people for being stupid! Especially when the stupid people are my family!"

"Rover, the angels were honestly surprised you never stormed the Pearly Gates from the inside."

"I never had to storm the Pearly Gates," Rover grumbled. "I had an ongoing deal with Pete. I could leave anytime I wanted."

"He graffitied the Pearly Gates," Descry murmured to one, or both, of them men on the floor with him. "When I got there it had the words 'Welcome to the Upstairs Division, Descry' written on them."

"I had to give you a proper homecoming, didn't I?"

Descry shook his head, put it back against the floor, and laughed again.

"Are there actually Pearly Gates?" Dexter blurted. Rover grinned and spun him.

"Close enough for jazz."
skeletonenigma: (skeletondetective)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-28 02:43 am (UTC)(link)
Valkyrie was losing track of the number of questions she wanted to ask. Rover and Dexter were married? It was their anniversary? Skulduggery could dance? Skulduggery pretended to be inanimate at Halloween once? What did the Pearly Gates look like? Pete?

But this wasn't her reunion and it wasn't her place, so she kept her mouth shut with difficulty and even managed not to jump too much when Fletcher reappeared. Tanith did jump, surprisingly violently, and then stepped backwards with a sheepish expression.

Ghastly glanced back at her before he looked around at the rest of the room.

And looked around again.

Then looked around a third time.

"Rover," Skulduggery acknowledged the other sorcerer with a slight nod. To Valkyrie's annoyance, his face barely registered a hint of surprise - at least, not until he joined Ghastly in looking around. "Where's Descry?"

Valkyrie pointed at Erskine and Saracen. "Under them."

"Ah. Makes sense. Hello, Descry."

Ghastly made some kind of choking noise, and Valkyrie watched with interest as the usually-calm sorcerer's mouth fell open. That was what finally triggered Erskine to sit up properly, and he grinned up at the tailor. "Piece of advice, Ghastly. When an angel says they have a surprise for you, they're really not kidding. You're swallowing flies."

Ghastly's mouth snapped closed.

"No angel said they had a surprise for us, though," Valkyrie pointed out to the Elder.

"No? How come Skulduggery's so unfazed, then?"

Ghastly's mouth opened again. "Fletcher, I've changed my mind. Go get Anton."
vexingshieldbearer: (if everyone loved)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-07-28 03:07 am (UTC)(link)
"Hello, Skulduggery," Descry said from underneath Erskine and Saracen. He didn't seem to be in any hurry to get up at all. "I'd ask how you've been, but I think I've got the gist already."

"Raphael." Gabe crossed his arms and glared, but the glare was rather softened by the dancing laughter in his eyes. "You are awful at keeping surprises."

"It's not my fault," Rafe protested, pointing an accusing finger at Rover. The Elemental was already laughing. "It's Larrikin's fault! He refused to report for duty and wanted to skive off to spy on his old buddies! He broke our cover, not me!"

"And you let him?"

Rafe grinned. "It was his animal magnetism."

"I have very powerful magnetism," Rover agreed, steering Dexter over to the pile on the floor so he tripped over someone's leg, yelped, and fell on top of them. Rover pulled himself away from the Adept's grabbing hands and whirled to Ghastly, arms outstretched. "C'mere, Bespoke. Let's have a cuddle before I go and toss you into the snugglepile."

"Wait a minute." Corrival stood, pushing back his chair. "I've been sitting here a long time and haven't gotten any greetings yet. Let Bespoke find his brain first."

"Of course, mon general." Rover bowed with a flourish and then yelped when he found himself yanked into a tight grip. He coughed when Corrival pounded his back and then pulled back, the older man's face nearly splitting with a grin.

"Dead Men," he said, shaking his head. "Figures you lot can't be kept down. You'd got the luck of the gods."

"I like to think we've got the luck of the angels," Descry pointed out.

"Ghastly, save me," Rover wheezed, holding out his arms for the tailor. "I think our beloved general broke my back."
skeletonenigma: (adjustingthehat)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-28 04:55 am (UTC)(link)
Fletcher had vanished again by the time Corrival supposedly broke Rover's back. Ghastly was only vaguely aware of that, in the same way he was only vaguely aware of Saracen - a man he hadn't seen in years - being on the floor underneath Erskine. Or Descry being underneath them both. Or Rover and Dexter dancing through the office to music Ghastly couldn't hear, and Rafe in his female form thoroughly enjoying the whole spectacle.

Bloody angels, was Ghastly's first coherent thought.

That wasn't true, of course. It really would have taken Rover coming back from the dead before Anton would agree to be in the same room as Skulduggery, let alone be part of a necrophiliac snugglepile with him. This was a good thing. This was a very good thing.

Ghastly just needed, as Corrival said, to find his brain first. "Think I left it back in my shop," he muttered quietly.

"You can't have," Skulduggery told him. "I checked the shop thoroughly before we left. I didn't see it."

"You don't have a brain. Maybe you missed it."

"I doubt it."

Ghastly looked up to meet the disguised skeleton's remarkably twinkling gaze. "How did you know this was going to happen? Did Gabe tell you?"

"No. He tried not to. He thought he'd be able to fool me."

Of course Skulduggery would have thought of it. Skulduggery thought of everything. Ghastly held the eye contact for a moment longer, and then returned his attention to the long-dead member of his old unit long enough to shake his head morosely. "World-famous masseuse can't even keep his own back supple. Get over here and I'll straighten it for you."