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: (Gabe-specific smile)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-28 12:12 pm (UTC)(link)
"Why would I need a brain?" Skulduggery wanted to know. "Mind-altering magic doesn't affect something that isn't physical. If anything, I have it better than the rest of you. Ghastly, you might want to seriously consider leaving your brain behind."

"But then I'd be a vegetable, and where would that leave Rover?"

"With a broken back. And dead."

Ghastly instinctively smiled at the joke, but internally his heart sank. Not that he'd expected miracles, even where Archangels were concerned, but to hear confirmed that neither Rover or Descry were actually alive - that this was only temporary - did not a happy tailor make.

The reason that they were here, Ghastly realised after a moment, wasn't going to be pleasant either.

Erskine may have sat up properly to grin at the surrounding events, but Saracen was still lying on top of Descry. Saracen wasn't usually one to think about dignity, and certainly not in the usual fashion, but even he was currently vulnerable in a way Ghastly had never seen. He'd put his head on top of his father's chest, and Descry was stroking the younger sorcerer's hair, and neither of them were saying a word. It was likely that neither of them had actually said a word yet. The Dead Men didn't need words. It was one of the reasons they'd drifted apart after the war, when two of them were dead.

Saracen stiffened when Gabe talked about seducing Skulduggery, but he didn't ask. Nor did he move. There were, when Ghastly moved slightly and saw the glint, tears in Saracen's eyes.

That was going around, though. Ghastly could feel his own eyes tearing up, too. "Forget the olive oil," he ordered. "There's no time to go searching for it if your back's broken. Just stop moving." Ghastly didn't have nearly as much experience with massages as Rover did, but you couldn't be friends with Rover for so long and not pick up a few tips. Besides, as a boxer, Ghastly was very familiar with stress points in the shoulders, and he attacked them with the large hands and confidence of that selfsame boxer.

Someone tapped him on the back, and Ghastly turned to see Fletcher holding out some extra-virgin olive oil uncertainly. It was only then that Ghastly noticed Anton in the room. He must have been there for at least a good ten seconds, if Fletcher had time to go back out and get olive oil.
skeletonenigma: (rare moment of relaxing)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-28 01:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Ghastly's gaze was torn away from their hug only by Erskine, who had gotten up onto his knees and was giving Ghastly a meaningful look. It took a moment for the tailor to realise what it was about, but when Erskine's gesture towards Anton finally did the trick, Ghastly felt a smile cross his face and he nodded.

No words. No words were ever needed. Ghastly looked down at where Saracen and Descry still hadn't moved, knowing full well that Descry would know exactly what they were about to do and that Saracen probably also had some idea thanks to his magic, and moved to kneel down next to them as if he was about to give Descry a hug.

At the last second, he twisted around and joined Erskine in latching onto both Rover and Anton's legs, pulling the pair down on top of them.

On the side, Skulduggery laughed. It was always a bit of a surprise to hear him laugh. Ghastly tried to disentangle himself from the group long enough to crawl over and pull the disguised skeleton down as well, but Erskine wouldn't let him and Rover's animal magnetism was just a little too much.

So he settled for waving a hand ineffectually in the air. "Skulduggery. Come join us."

"No, I think I'll stay here, thank you."

Damn it. Ghastly had been sure that would work.

Valkyrie, standing next to Skulduggery, grinned. "I think you should go join them. I think this is the most adorable thing ever and I think someone needs to take a picture of it. Fletcher, I think you should go and get my camera for me. Please," she added as a hasty afterthought.

Fletcher held up the bottle of extra-virgin olive oil. "What am I supposed to do with this?"
skeletonenigma: (noimagination)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-28 09:38 pm (UTC)(link)
"An unwanted gift," Skulduggery was quick to clarify, even if his voice was as even and calm as it always was. "Which I am wearing for Valkyrie's sake, not Gabe's. Everyone's brought up to speed, I take it."

Fletcher, meanwhile, had turned red alarmingly fast and thrust the olive oil into Valkyrie's hands. "You know what? Forget I asked."

Valkyrie paled. "What am I supposed to do with this?" she demanded of Fletcher, making him, if it was possible, turn even more red. "I really don't need a massage. I'm good. Skulduggery, you could probably use one. Your muscles aren't even real."

Tanith smiled and held up her right hand. "I'll take it, if you want to get rid of it that badly. Rover's right. I do wear leather."

For the first time since laying eyes on his father, Saracen made a noise. It sounded a bit like a surprised groan. "Ghastly? Ghastly? You chose Ghastly over me?"

"What's wrong with that?"

Saracen managed to extricate himself just enough to give Tanith an incredulous look. "What's wrong with that? Is that what you would tell Ghastly if you chose me over him? No. No it isn't. I was not given proper consideration, and now you're being rude to me, and I think I need to object to that."

Ghastly didn't manage to extricate himself, but he made his voice heard nonetheless. "You two know each other?"

"Only in the vaguest sense. Ghastly, Tanith was rude to me. Just say the word and I'll tell you exactly why she - "

He was cut off with a loud yelp when Skulduggery fell forcefully on top of Saracen, added weight of fake muscles and all. "Saracen," the skeleton admonished, "I thought we taught you how to be a gentleman far better than this."

"You did. And I am. I'm just choosing to - mph!"

Skulduggery had taken off the wig and stuffed it into Saracen's mouth.
skeletonenigma: (Default)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-29 04:24 am (UTC)(link)
"Tipstaff isn't happy unless he's complaining about something," Erskine pointed out. It was the sort of comment he might have grumbled if he were still in the same mood as earlier, but he'd done such a one-eighty from the earlier grumpiness that it felt like it had been weeks since Lord Vile's armour reanimated without warning. It certainly felt like ages before they were going to have to deal with the armour again, and Tipstaff's complaints about a little bit of missed paperwork wasn't going to mess that up for him.

"I was a father," Skulduggery agreed. "Gabe was very patient and gentle with me nonetheless. Did you know that grooming an angel's wings takes several full days?"

He must have given up, Erskine decided. Skulduggery must have given up trying to stop any teasing, accepted the inevitable, and was teaching himself to welcome it. Right now, that was probably a very good thing. Any attempt on Skulduggery's part to have more fun in life could only help against Vile.

Saracen, however, was thinking about something completely different. "Assignment?" he asked. "What assignment? I thought Lord Vile's armour was inactive again."

"It is," Erskine confirmed with a saddened smile. "And we'd like it to stay that way. Gabe'll explain later, but for now, can't we just be happy to see each other?"

Saracen was obviously unconvinced, but he visibly let that go to tilt his head at Erskine. "I don't know. You're an Elder now. I'm not supposed to be able to trust you."

"Wouldn't Descry tell you if I wasn't trustworthy?"

"Not if you asked him not to."

Erskine scoffed. "Saracen, we're talking about a man who apparently didn't let Rover watch a skeleton massaging an Archangel. His code of honour runs that deep."

"I'm still grateful for that," Skulduggery added. "Despite the foresight having no effect whatsoever."
vexingshieldbearer: (confusing stars)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-07-29 09:03 am (UTC)(link)
"You mean you could trust him when he wasn't an Elder?" Rover wondered.

"That depends on what you were trusting him with," Dexter pointed out.

"What assignment?" Anton asked, evenly but with a faint edge. He had chosen to ignore any and all references to Skulduggery's angel, and possibly Skulduggery's existence. Right now, however, he was resting against Erskine, with Rover resting against him, and looking directly at Corrival. Corrival glanced down at Descry. Without even opening his eyes, Descry nodded.

"Gabe says he can put a leash on Skulduggery's anger," Corrival said matter-of-factly, looking Anton in the eye. "It's like a net which diffuses his anger along a few different pathways, easing the burden for everyone involved. Including and especially him."

"Everyone?" Anton's eyes narrowed.

"What, you didn't think we were here just to joyride?" Rover asked with a grin, clapping a hand to the Gist-user's thigh.

"This spell is most powerful if it's woven in love," Gabe said quietly. "Your connection as a group is more than powerful enough to put Lucifer off. It will hold for as long as Skulduggery chooses to live and, as you may have noticed, it doesn't matter whether the people holding the leashes are dead themselves. This is a soul-bond. But that does mean it can't be removed once put there."

"You don't all need to be in on it," Rafe said.

"But numbers will help," Gabe added. "All of you together constitutes nine. The eight of you holding the leash will add to the stability of the spell. It would be the most powerful incarnation I can muster--nothing would be able to break it, except you yourselves." He shrugged. "I can work with eight and seven. They're still powerful numbers."

But, Dexter added mentally, there would always be one missing. And they would know it. They would all know it. Anton especially. Because there was no question about what Saracen would choose, once he got over the why. Anton was the one who might refuse.

The Gist-user said nothing, staring into the wall, but Rover patted his leg again. "Come on! This way there's no way you can get rid of me! It's the perfect plan."

"Putting a leash on Rover might actually make some people feel better," Descry agreed.

"And it's not like you'd be able to lose me again, when all you have to do is yank a metaphysical string."

If this was any other time, Dexter knew Anton would joke about wanting to lose Rover. But he couldn't. Not here, not now, not when he was right there, against all odds. Anton looked at Rover, his eyes that shadowed blankness, and Dexter had no idea what he was thinking. Then, abruptly, he said, "Fine."

Rover grinned. "See, was that hard?"
skeletonenigma: (writtenname)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-29 12:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Fine.

All at once, Skulduggery found himself wishing he wasn't wearing the skin. No one ever felt obliged to return the eye contact of an eyeless skull, because you could never be sure of what exactly the eyeless skull was looking at. But with a definite twinkling set of eyes, Skulduggery couldn't quite bring himself to look over at the Gist-user. Fine was enough. Fine was much more than enough.

Saracen leaned up into a sitting position just long enough to do Skulduggery's staring for him, and then the sorcerer slumped back down on top of his father. "Let me get this straight. I'm assuming everyone in this room knows, since we're being so casual about it. So I have two very important questions. First, how come Anton's the only one who held a grudge?" Saracen waved a finger in Descry's face. "You promised hellfire and brimstone if word ever got out."

Erskine wrapped his arms around Anton's midsection and squeezed, putting his chin on the Gist-user's shoulder. "Thank you," he murmured, where no one but Skulduggery with his relatively sharp hearing caught the words. "All your Hotel guests are still alive, right?"

"And the second question," Saracen continued. This time he twisted towards Gabe, laying eyes on the Archangel properly for the first time since Gabe's appearance. "How on Earth do you have feelings for him? I'm assuming you have feelings for him. I'm assuming this isn't a one-way street."
skeletonenigma: (trying extremely hard not to smile)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-29 01:30 pm (UTC)(link)
It was, in a way, the same sort of sentiment Saracen once had. It was after he'd discovered Skulduggery's secret, after he'd talked it over with Descry, after he'd already accepted the truth - for the most part. It was when he'd truly learned, for the first time, through the memories of someone else, what Lord Vile had been like.

That wasn't the focus of the memories they were seeing, of course. It was part of a mission to try and track down Baron Vengeous, and the sorcerer they needed to speak to was comatose. A Sensitive let them into the man's surface memory, which gave them the intel they needed, but also left a lasting impression on Saracen. Because he finally saw what the others had actually experienced.

Lord Vile, and the massive amounts of death that followed the Necromancer wherever he went.

Saracen came out of that experience numb with the shock, but when the numbness eventually faded, he'd been startled to realise his respect for Skulduggery only grew. Because, quite suddenly, he had an idea of what the skeleton was fighting every day - what the skeleton had beaten back once already. It was amazing. Completely awe-inspiring. Skulduggery Pleasant inspired awe in more ways than one.

When he thought about that way, it made sense that Gabriel - that the Archangel - that any angel would see the worth in Skulduggery.

That didn't change how downright adorable the angel's admittance of the fact was.

Saracen's grin very nearly split his face, and he sank back against Descry with a full-body cat-like stretch. "Good point."

"Good point?" he heard Skulduggery ask in disbelief.

"Yep. Good point."

He waited while Skulduggery digested that, and when the detective spoke again, the disbelief had lessened considerably. "What about Lucifer? No thoughts on that?"

"I think it's very bad. I also know he's not here yet, because first off, I'd probably know about it, and secondly, you all would be out there fighting him."
scryinghope: (shelter also gave their shade)

[personal profile] scryinghope 2013-07-29 01:44 pm (UTC)(link)
"See, Skulduggery, he gets it!" Gabe pointed at Saracen, giving Skulduggery a guileless look. "Why can't you? What's so hard?"

Anton said nothing, but the grunt of dissent was almost audible in his soul.

"It might have something to do with all the murder and mayhem," Descry murmured. "But for me, the man who turns in his bloodied blade is worth the second chance."

"You never had that choice," Shudder said almost flatly. Descry craned his head to look at him.

"That's not true. I did have that choice. It would have been difficult in a different way to the rest of you, but I did have it. It's just that maintaining that anger would have meant blocking out all that made me enjoy being with any of you, and I'd rather not do that for the sake of a mistake it would've done no good to dwell upon. That would have driven me insane."

For a moment Anton was quiet, but then he lifted his head to look at Descry. "I remember the day Mevolent and Meritorious met to discuss a treaty."

The redhead smiled faintly. "So do I. Believe me, so do I."

"If any human being could know the difference, it would be you."

"In this dimension, at least."

"It's enough."

"I know." Descry squeezed his hand. "And you'll find more for it given time. Just give it time."

Anton nodded shortly and didn't meet anyone's eyes, but there was something a little less tense about him as he slouched into Erskine's embrace.
skeletonenigma: (Default)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-30 12:44 am (UTC)(link)
Saracen grinned, but he didn't say anything. It was a relief, to be honest. He'd thought no one could ever know, and after Descry died, even the respect for Skulduggery wasn't enough to stop the knowledge from feeling like a burden. It was so strange, being in a room full of people who did know - Ghastly among them - and that the only person who still needed help accepting it was Anton.

The angels probably had a good deal to do with it, but still. The suddenness of all of this had sapped even the relief Saracen knew he'd be feeling very soon, and left him with nothing to do but lie against his dead father and grin. Grin like an idiot.

In front of them, Tanith turned to the girl Saracen could only assume was Valkyrie. "I feel left out," she complained. "Do you feel left out?"

"I do," Valkyrie decided.

"Me too," the young man with the weird hair whose name was Fletcher added.

"What about," said Tanith, "if the three of us have our own group hug over here? Does that sound good?"

Valkyrie and the young man with the weird hair whose name was Fletcher thought that sounded brilliant, and Saracen's grin actually managed to widen as he watched them mirror the cuddlepile on the floor while upright. He liked it when people got along. He always had. It was one of the reasons he never told anyone about Vile, even after Descry's death.

In retrospect, maybe that was a mistake. Who knew?

"Skulduggery?" he asked, initiating the first of his countless questions. "Why aren't you a skeleton anymore?"

"Present from Gabe."

Saracen gingerly turned over, trying to avoid jabbing any elbows into Descry's side. "You're back to life, as well?"

"No. It's just a more sophisticated disguise."

"A more sophisticated - sophisticated how?"

"Well, I can eat now."

"Are you serious?" Saracen sat up. "We're going out for lunch. Right now. Or maybe dinner. What time is it? It could be lunner, or dinch. Let's just go out for food and talk about ways to top painting Dublin red while we watch Skulduggery try to eat spicy Mexican food."
vexingshieldbearer: (for satellites)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-07-30 10:26 am (UTC)(link)
"Over there?" Rover demanded, peering over at them with a mocking frown. "That's not how you do it! Sure, you can have a cuddlepile with three, but why bother when you can have a cuddlepile with the Dirty Dozen?" He leapt to his feet, tugging them closer to the Dead Men. "This is how you do it."

He spread his arms and let himself fall backwards onto the pile, with a corresponding groan from underneath him. "That," he said gleefully, "is how you do it. Now you guys give it a go."

"You know, given the whole forty-foot-wingspan thing, the angels are probably already involved in the cuddlepile," Dexter mused, "but the Prophet's just lying over there. I bet when he wakes up he'll feel retroactively left out too."

"Well, we need to fix that. We can't alienate one of the new Elders before we go and watch Skulduggery eat things." Rover jumped up again, took Dexter's hand and heaved him to his feet. He gave Valkyrie another little push toward the cuddlepile. "Go on, then. Cuddle. Look, there's a nice piece of Ghastly to flop over right there."

Dexter dusted himself off and dragged Rover's arm over his shoulder to lead him toward Solomon. "Come on, we can't waste time. Next thing we know Skulduggery will have an untameable appetite and we'd need his angel just to keep a leash on him."

"Isn't that what we're already doing?" Rover wondered. He stroked Solomon's hair. "There, there. Don't worry, little Prophet. We'll have you with friends soon."

"Only if you pull your weight," Dexter accused, taking one of the pillows and putting it under his arm.

"When do I ever not?"

Rover took Solomon under the arms and Dexter lifted his feet, and between the two they moved him over to the cuddlepile and lay him down beside Descry and Saracen. Dexter put the pillow under the ex-Necromancer's head and Rover patted his hair. "There. Prophet, meet Monk. Monk, meet Prophet."

"Hello, Prophet," Descry murmured lazily. Solomon did nothing except breathe, deep and slow, but if Dexter wasn't mistaken he looked more relaxed than Dexter had ever seen him while awake.

Except that Descry answered. "You're in a cuddlepile of Dead Men and Detectives. You'll probably think you were dreaming when you wake up."

"Can he hear us?" Dexter demanded. Descry opened one eye to look at him.

"Not in so many words. He's still asleep, he's just aware enough to know something's changed. I think it's more a soul-sensing thing than anything else."

"I forgot how creepy it was when you did that," Dexter grumbled, flopping across Solomon, Saracen and Descry's waists. Rover flopped across his.

"We need to re-acclimatise you, then. Maybe at lunner-time."

"It's only mid-afternoon," Corrival said. "It's too early to eat. Let's just relax for a bit."
skeletonenigma: (how easy do you think this is?)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-30 11:55 am (UTC)(link)
"I already said alienating an Elder was a bad idea," Saracen offered his input, watching Dexter and Rover stand up without making any effort to do so himself. "Thanks for the help, guys."

"Lazy as ever," said Erskine, twisting to jab Saracen in the shoulder with a finger.

"What can I say? I've always had servants to help me out."

Tanith had already shrugged and fallen on the 'piece of Ghastly' Rover pointed out, so Valkyrie stood even more awkwardly by and probably would have continued to do so if Tanith hadn't snaked a hand out and caught her by the ankle. Before Valkyrie knew it, her foot was pulled out from under her, and she fell with a yelp on top of Ghastly's head.

"Ow," Ghastly complained.

"Sorry," Tanith winced. "I was aiming for Saracen."

Valkyrie scrambled off Ghastly and shot Tanith a glare, which Tanith returned as an apologetic shrug. "When in Rome, you know. Besides, it's kind of fun."

And after a moment, it really kind of was. Because Fletcher knelt down next to Valkyrie and wrapped his arms around her, the same way Erskine had wrapped his around Anton. "Mind if I cut in?" he asked.

"Fletcher, I only ever mind when you act like an idiot."

"Is this acting like an idiot?"

"No." Valkyrie leaned back into his arms. "All you need to do now is learn how to massage."

The smile on Tanith's face had vanished by the time Valkyrie was completely relaxed, and she turned over to face Ghastly on the floor, voice low. "Dexter forgot how creepy it was when he did what?"

"That," Ghastly answered. "Know what people are dreaming about. It's a form of magic he and his son have... different aspects of."
vexingshieldbearer: (if everyone cared)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-07-30 12:29 pm (UTC)(link)
"It's okay, Ghastly." Descry smiled without looking over. "It's not like anyone on Earth can hurt me anymore, and this isn't something I can hide from Lucifer. Then again, possibly I've gotten used to everyone knowing and not caring. You'd be amazed at how liberating it is to have everyone know and not care."

"Of course they didn't care," Rover said. "You were in Heaven. Who has anything to hide when you're in Heaven? We're on Earth again now."

Descry shrugged. "I have an angel-made body and I spent the last century playing Go with Ghandi and stealing quills from Metatron. Whom shall I fear?"

"Well, when you put it like that." Dexter rolled over to face him, shaking his head. "Stealing quills from angels? What, you think because you're already in Heaven they won't give you an itty-bitty smiting?"

"Actually, I had cherubs volunteering to help me."

"Of course you did. Just for that, I'm giving up all your secrets."

"Be my guest. I don't need to have secrets anymore. I quite enjoy it."

Dexter sat up, leaning on Saracen's shoulders, and pointed down at Descry. "This man here is a mind-reader. Which is why he was assassinated, actually. Someone figured it out and realised that's why Meritorious was impossible to kill. See, back when Meritorious was the leader of the rebellion, Descry was his 'valet'." Dexter made quote-marks in the air. "Which is just a cover for his being a spy, reading everyone's mind, and telling Meritorious everything about what the bad guys have planned."

"When all the rebellion leaders were hunted down and killed," Corrival said, glancing toward Skulduggery, "Meritorious was the only one who survived. It's why he became the sole leader of the rebellion, and it's because of Descry that he did."

Descry shrugged without dislodging Saracen. "What can I say? I have extra-acute hearing. Comes from being a superhero and all that."

"Just call him Daredevil," Rover added cheerfully.

"No, I'm not blind. Solomon will have to be Daredevil. Let's go with Professor X."

"Whatever you say, Professor."
Edited 2013-07-30 12:46 (UTC)
skeletonenigma: (it's funny how you think you've won this)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-30 01:22 pm (UTC)(link)
"For the record," Skulduggery added, "and because I don't think I've ever mentioned this before, I hold no grudge whatsoever over not being rescued along with Meritorious."

"I tried to get there," Ghastly pointed out. "I would have made it, if you hadn't annoyed Serpine into killing you sooner than he intended."

Tanith drew in a sharp breath, but Skulduggery's face didn't even change as he replied. "That's not how I remember it. I remember that because you were close to rescuing me, Serpine killed me sooner than he intended. In fact, now that I think about it, I may have you to blame for being a living skeleton at all."

"I didn't hear you complaining when that man shot you in New York and the bullet ricocheted around your ribcage."

"You must have been deaf, then. I was complaining. It hurt."

Tanith couldn't help staring, and for more reasons than one. Firstly, she'd never actually heard Skulduggery joke about his death quite like that before. And judging by the expression on Valkyrie's face, neither had she, although Valkyrie could be just as horrified by the fact that she was faced by a mind-reader. Which brought Tanith to the second reason she was staring so intently.

She'd met Sensitives who could read minds before. Well, one, anyway. And he'd needed physical contact, time, and concentration. She'd assumed Descry Hopeless was one of those, at first, but when she noticed he hadn't even been touching Solomon, she'd grown wary.

It made sense. It answered a lot of questions she always used to ask her parents when they told her stories about the Dead Men. But Tanith was still wary. She had, on second thought, absolutely nothing to hide, but she was so used to keeping a good chunk of her past hidden that this came as much more of a shock than it might have otherwise.

The Dead Men trusted him. Ghastly trusted him. Right now, that was good enough for Tanith. "I like Professor X better," she decided. "Much more dignified."
scryinghope: (i will learn to love the skies i'm under)

[personal profile] scryinghope 2013-07-30 01:44 pm (UTC)(link)
"Like all those times you leapt off a waterfall?" Rover demanded. "You enjoyed being a skeleton then for the not-dying part. You didn't enjoy it quite so much when Ghastly refused to put you back together and we used your skull as a candle-holder. Now whose fault was that?"

"Skulduggery's," Dexter volunteered. "I vote it was Skulduggery's. We had to put blinkers on him so he didn't just see a cliff and jump off it. We were something to wonder if we shouldn't rename him 'The Lemming'."

Descry opened his eyes and looked at Tanith with a small smile. "I am very dignified," he agreed. "And, for the record, that time in India when we stumbled onto the opium den was actually a complete accident, and that time in Albuquerque with the fake treasure-map was real. At least, real in the sense that Rover thought he'd found a genuine treasure-map, not that we were using it as a con to catch someone. Though it worked well as that, too."
skeletonenigma: (landel's standard)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-30 09:12 pm (UTC)(link)
From somewhere in the middle of the pile, Skulduggery groaned. "You're not still bitter about that, are you? I'm not still bitter about that. I could point out, for example, that there is still dried candle wax on the inside of my skull. But I won't."

"Why did you leap off a waterfall so many times?" Valkyrie asked with interest.

"I just said I'm not bitter about it. That also means I'd rather not dwell on it."

"But you can tell me, right? Tanith grew up on your stories. Why can't I get to hear them now?"

Skulduggery sighed. "There was something about long free-falls that was... therapeutic. And for a time, it was a bit of an experiment."

"An experiment?"

"When I could first control my skeleton, I was falling over a waterfall. There were times I wondered whether that wasn't the trigger."

Ghastly frowned. They'd asked Skulduggery about it before, many times, and he'd barely ever told them about the first part, let alone that second. This was all news to Ghastly, and he propped himself up, the better to see his old friend and make his displeasure known. "What did you expect to happen?"

"This really isn't - "

"Skulduggery, I put you back together ten times before you learned. You owe me the truth. What did you expect to happen?"

"Nothing."

"Skul - "

"That's what I expected. Nothing. If anything were to happen, I thought maybe the process could be reversed, but I honestly never expected anything to happen."

Valkyrie blinked. "You were suicidal?"

"About as much as a dead man could be, yes. Let's change the subject."

Tanith had been talking to Descry during their conversation, the obvious awe on her face even more obvious in her voice. Ghastly didn't think he would have pegged her for being the first one to accept a mind-reader, but to be fair, he hadn't ever needed to think about it before. She was, however, completely taken. "Really? The opium den one actually happened? How did you manage to get away from the people running it? No one I asked ever knew the answer to that."
scryinghope: (shelter also gave their shade)

[personal profile] scryinghope 2013-07-31 12:03 am (UTC)(link)
"Sure, let's change the subject to the time we were all drugged for twelve hours," Dexter said.

"You have no idea the noise complaints I got after that," Corrival grumbled.

"To be honest," Descry said, "it's a bit hard to remember exactly how we got away. Rover's memory says it has something to do with dancing pink elephants going on a rampage. Erskine's memory says a giant ape smashed down the doors. Dexter's mind thinks it was something to do with a giant whale?" Descry lifted an eyebrow at him. "Bit of a fish out of water, there, don't you think? Anton thinks it was a parade of hula dancers, which, given they all had Rover's face, was really kind of frightening."

"Aw, really?" Rover grinned up at Anton, reaching out to pat his leg. "I knew you liked me the best."

"This was before Saracen, so he wasn't there," Descry continued, "and Ghastly remembers something about a giant jellyfish."

"What, exactly, were you seeing?" Corrival asked, sounding torn between being intrigued and disgusted.

Descry grinned. "To be honest, I was seeing a medley of what everyone else was seeing. I suspect the truth has something to do with Skulduggery being the only one who wasn't affected, and blowing up half the den so he could herd us towards a large exit like a flock of sheep, but since he's the only one I can't read, I can't actually tell for sure."
skeletonenigma: (oops he smiled anyway)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-31 01:59 am (UTC)(link)
"It was," Skulduggery assured him. "Like children, the lot of you. I had to go and finish what seven men began, make sure none of you accidentally killed yourselves, and then I had to stand guard at the tent while you all slept it off. Those were the nine most interesting hours of my undead life."

"What are you complaining about?" Erskine wanted to know. "We destroyed the den, didn't we? We took down the bad guys, didn't we?"

"I took down the bad guys, Erskine. I did. Me. The rest of you sat there with happy grins on your faces and went to go poke at the explosives because you thought the sparks were pretty little butterflies."

"Oh, yeah! I remember that." Erskine took his chin off Anton's shoulder to poke his head around the man's side instead. "Don't remember much else, though. I don't even remember a giant ape, really. I'm just taking Descry's word for that. All I remember is waking up in a pile almost exactly like this, wondering why we weren't being served breakfast in our extravagant treetop villa. That was weird."

"What," Ghastly asked with a smile, "that we weren't in an extravagant treetop villa, or that we weren't getting served breakfast?"

"Either. Both. Weirdness all round."

"I served you breakfast," Skulduggery reminded them.

"Skulduggery, a bucket of cold water thrown in my face is not breakfast."

"Isn't it? Maybe I've forgotten what being hungry feels like. You certainly didn't feel like any food after that."

The sound of both Tanith and Valkyrie's laughter nearly drowned out Saracen's voice, and he had to raise it to be heard. "Okay, that's it. Skulduggery, we're going out for dinner. We are going to have a delectable three-course meal at a five-star restaurant and make you try some of every last dish. And after that, we're going to throw a bucket of cold water in your face."

"If that was meant to surprise me, you've ruined it."

Saracen snapped his fingers. "Damn it. We'll just have to come up with something else, then. Like opium. We'll sneak opium into your food."

"Opium's illegal."

"That's why we'll sneak it. You can't rob us of the opportunity to see you on drugs, Skulduggery. I, for one, never thought I'd see the day." He hesitated, bit his lip, and looked towards Gabe with an expression that was far less sheepish than it really should have been under the circumstances. "We wouldn't get into trouble for that, would we?"
scryinghope: (i will learn to love the skies i'm under)

[personal profile] scryinghope 2013-07-31 02:22 am (UTC)(link)
"Won't get in trouble for what?" Gabe asked with wide eyes. "I didn't hear anything. Did you hear anything, Rafe?"

"Didn't hear nothin' at all," Rafe agreed. "Nor did he." She pointed toward the doorway and the man standing in it. The man with an armful of files, looking with an amazingly blank face down at the pile of men on the floor.

"Hi, Tipstaff." Dexter waved.

"This is everything that it looks like," Corrival said, "and we're all going out for an early dinner just as soon as we can get up. If you hurry, I might be able to sign some of the most absolutely vitally important papers for you."

"Of course, Grand Mage," Tipstaff said with the sort of blandness of someone who really could not react in any other way, because they had no other reactions left. He moved forward, stepped over Dexter's legs, and held down a folder of pages. "These are the things which should be signed right away, sir." When Corrival took the folder, he held down a pen, staring straight ahead to the opposite side of the room.

Corrival grunted, took the folder and pen, stole the pillow from under Solomon's head and lay it over Descry's face to use as padding while he signed.

"You know, it's a good thing I don't need to breathe or anything," Descry said, his voice almost inaudible under the pillow.

"It is, isn't it?" Corrival didn't even pause in his signing.

"That one needs to be signed twice, sir," Tipstaff added.

"Uh huh. What am I signing, Tipstaff?"

"My bonus, sir."

"Oh, I like him." Rover pointed up. "You should keep him, Generalissimo."

"Because I plan to, and would rather not have him walk out and stick me with some idiot, I'm actually going to finish signing his bonus instead of tearing it up."
skeletonenigma: (i don't understand)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-07-31 03:10 am (UTC)(link)
The moment the angels made it clear - or at least implied - that they wouldn't smite anyone for sneaking opium into Skulduggery's food, Saracen sat back with a very self-satisfied grin, his head ending up against the edge of the pillow Corrival was using as a writing surface. Erskine resisted the urge to ask until Tipstaff had left the room again, and waited for the door to close before he leaned around his own Anton-shaped pillow once more. "You know, I've been meaning to ask. Archangels. You're taking this whole thing remarkably well."

"Taking what remarkably well? That they exist, that they're women, that they're not so uptight, or that Skulduggery's in love with one of them? Or that one of them's in love with him back?"

Erskine shrugged. "Take your pick, really."

Saracen's grin widened, and he pointed up at the ceiling from where he lay. "I knew they existed. The worldwide visions, remember? And my magic pretty much told me the rest."

"Yeah, but you didn't believe your own magic. You're nowhere near as freaked out as the rest of us were. And as much as I'd just love to believe you're more emotionally stable than any of us, I've been around you and Descry far too long to believe that."

Saracen's grin faded, and he rolled over to look Erskine in the eye. "Look. Let's just say it's not my first encounter with... things of this nature, and leave it at that. Don't you think Gabe's adorable?"

"Your magic told you I had feelings for an angel?" Skulduggery asked with a look of puzzlement on his disguised features.

Saracen laughed. "Not in so many words. I honestly thought I was going mad."

"Your magic tells you about immediate dangers and anything immediately useful. It doesn't tell you about people's feelings."

"What, suddenly you're the expert? Maybe my magic just wants me to have an opportunity to tease someone I'm close to. Who knows?"

Skulduggery raised an eyebrow. "You do."

"True," Saracen agreed, tapping the bridge of his nose. "But you never will."
scryinghope: (but hold me fast)

[personal profile] scryinghope 2013-07-31 10:00 am (UTC)(link)
Descry let out the kind of snort belonging to someone who was trying, and failing, restrain a reaction. When Corrival tried to lift the pillow to see if he was okay, the mind-reader pinned the pillow to his face, dissolving into muffled laughter.

"But Descry knows." Dexter reached back to poke his arm. "Come on, tell!"

"You know, it's been a while since I've seen that disguise," Gabe said thoughtfully.

"One of the best ones," Rafe agreed. "No one ever thinks twice. Unless, you know, they cheat by having some magic which gives them hints about bits and bobs."

Rover's eyes widened. "Wait. You mean--that time--? No." And he started laughing nearly as hard as Descry, leaning into Dexter's shoulder.

"What?" Dexter demanded, shaking him off so he slid down the floor and wound up with his face in Saracen's hip. "You're being mean and not telling us things. I object to this. I object a lot. We're not meant to have any secrets between us."

Descry was the one who got a hold of himself first, but only by virtue of the fact that he wanted to and Rover didn't, and he had exceptional control. He pulled the pillow down around his neck, taking deep, slow breaths. "Erskine still beats you out on timeline," he said, patting Saracen's head, "but he only met the Lord as a taxi-driver. You met Her as the matron of a strip-club. I think you win in terms of surreality."