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
vexingshieldbearer: (if everyone cared)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-08-03 12:55 pm (UTC)(link)
There was one main reason Descry and Rover never batted an eyelash over Skulduggery's appearance was because, frankly, it didn't matter. Being nothing more than a soul meant being able to see things other people couldn't. With or without Skulduggery's skin, to their eyes he threw a nimbus of his true self. Frankly, the part that was more concerning for them was the fact it was mirror, a man and a suit of armour.

"Hey, I'm not gonna take advantage," Rover said with a shrug.

"Aw, man, now I'm just disappointed," Rafe whined, and Rover yelped, jumped and fell over a footrest into an armchair. The Archangel, now in his male guise, grinned and held out a bowl of peanuts. "Present for ya. Gabe'll be along in a minute."

"You already know me too well." Rover grinned, leapt up and grabbed the bowl of peanuts. Then he turned to the other Dead Men, wagging his finger at them with mock censure. "You should all know that you, or most of you, have been very, very bad boys. Now you need to take your medicine." He pointed accusingly at Skulduggery. "Since you're the worst offender, you get to go first. You're an idiot."

In one deft motion he picked up a handful of peanuts and flung them in Skulduggery's face. "You're the idiot to beat all idiots." Another handful of peanuts. "You got broken and decided the best way to go about things was to pretend you weren't broken? You idiot." Another handful, bigger than the others. "You could have asked us for help. You should have. You're our brother. We'd have helped you. You idiot." One last handful, this one the biggest of them all, and then Rover put his free hand on his hip and glared. It was offset by the way a corner of his mouth was held tight, as if to hide a smile. "Well? Anything to say for yourself?"
skeletonenigma: (oh no you didn't)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-08-03 01:40 pm (UTC)(link)
There was something about having several handfuls of peanuts tossed into your face that rendered speech a lot more difficult than Skulduggery remembered it being.

He'd wondered before about higher powers. When Larrikin died, there had been moments when it felt like he was still with them. But Skulduggery had never allowed himself to hope, because if there were higher powers of any kind, then he'd been resurrected only to become Lord Vile. The obvious conclusion there was less than comforting.

Now, he knew his resurrection had a motive. And he'd met the higher powers. It stood to reason that Rover, from the moment he first arrived in Heaven, would know everything. And to someone who knew everything, the actions of people whose knowledge was more limited were probably frustrating as hell.

Then again, Skulduggery would never have imagined still having Ghastly as a friend after all this. People continued to surprise him.

"For myself?" Skulduggery thought about it. "Not especially. You're not wrong. You're not the first person to say so. I'm more interested in why I'm not the only offender."
vexingshieldbearer: (from underneath the trees)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-08-03 01:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Rover grinned. "You'll see." He tossed another few peanuts in the detective's face, just because he could. "You have no idea how satisfying it is to be able to actually throw these at you instead of a huge metaphysical screen, by the way. Somehow, throwing peanuts at a huge metaphysical screen instead of your face isn't nearly as fun. Moving on!"

He whirled around, jabbing a finger at Dexter. "You. Wife. You're an idiot too." He threw a few peanuts. "True, an idiot on a slightly lesser scale, but you're still an idiot." More peanuts, and Dexter spluttered, brushing them off him. "I left you everything I had in my will, and you didn't even stage a puppet-show." Peanuts. "You could have at least staged a puppet-show. And now!"

Dexter's mouth opened and shut as Rover turned to Corrival, lobbing peanuts. "You--are not a person at whom I meant to throw peanuts. Here, let me have those back." With a snap of his wrist the falling peanuts shot back upward into his palm. Corrival lifted an eyebrow, but Rover had already moved on to Erskine. "And you have actually been pretty good. Here, have a peanut." He presented Erskine with a peanut until the Elder took it and then turned to Saracen. "You! Have let yourself go. What, the rest of the world is more interesting than your best mates? You deserve a few peanuts." He flung half a dozen peanuts at Saracen's face and then turned around to Anton. "Anton, you've already given me a hug. For that, you get two peanuts!"

"Thank you," Anton said, completely deadpan, as he took the peanuts. Descry had his face buried in the Gist-user's shoulder, and his shoulders were shaking suspiciously.

"Ghastly!" Rover beamed at Ghastly and gave him a peanut. "Your mother says hi. And also that you're an idiot and she loves you."
skeletonenigma: (let me explain something to you)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-08-03 03:38 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'd like to see a puppet show," Tanith decided, though her voice didn't carry any further than Valkyrie and Ghastly. "That sounds like fun. Am I allowed to agree on the 'idiot' part for that?"

"I didn't even know Rover had a will," Ghastly replied with a frown. "Dexter never told any of us. I'll join you in that sentient."

"Wife?" came Valkyrie's response, thick with disbelief and curiosity.

Ghastly smiled. "They got married during the war for an excuse to have a party. Morale was dropping, and Rover wanted to do something about it."

"So he married Dexter?"

"Got down on one knee and proposed. I saw the whole thing. I would have it on tape, if any sort of tapes existed back then."

"Is it legal?" Tanith wondered. The lack of any identical disbelief on her face told Ghastly she'd heard the story before, and he wasn't surprised. It had made the rounds before. It was probably one of the reasons Dex left to travel the world after Rover's death - people still asked about it, even now.

"Of course it's legal," he told her.

"No, wait. I don't mean legal legal. Of course it's legal. But was it legally binding?"

Ghastly smiled again. "Of course it was."

"Even back then?"

"Sorcerers have always had a very different way of looking at marriage than mortals. In all the circles that mattered, yes, even back then."

Tanith returned the smile and tilted her head so that it was leaning on Ghastly's broad shoulder. "Remind me to go through every story I've ever heard later so that I can ask you all about them."

That would make for an interesting night. Ghastly made the mental note just as Rover turned to him, and then promptly forgot all about it when he belatedly realised that he'd never even thought to ask about his mother.

It didn't matter, of course. Even now, he could practically picture her whapping him on the back of the head with a disapproving glare and informing him that his friends should always take precedence. (She'd have added herself that he was an idiot. Maybe that was where Rover was getting his current repertoire of insults from.) But a wave of guilt nearly blindsided him anyway, and he almost dislodged Tanith when he stepped forward. "You talked to her? Is she okay?"

He backpedaled when he realised what his own question was. Of course she was okay. She was in Heaven. "What has she been up to?" he amended a little awkwardly.
vexingshieldbearer: (confusing stars)

[personal profile] vexingshieldbearer 2013-08-04 01:12 am (UTC)(link)
"She's in Heaven," Rover pointed out in a 'you're stupid' tone. "Of course she's okay. Your father's okay and loves you too, for the record. He's very proud of the whole tailor-shop thing."

"Really," Descry added, lifting his head. His expression was sort-of impassive, but even there was a wild amusement in his eyes and a persistent grin on his mouth. "Every time I spoke to him he'd bring you and your shop up somehow. I think he even managed to get some angels wanting you to tailor some clothes for them."

"Been there, done that," Gabe chirruped, appearing beside Skulduggery and wrapping him in a very Rover-like hug, up to and including resting his chin on the skeleton's shoulder. He beamed at the tailor. "I have Ghastly Bespoke shoes. Everyone'll be jealous when they see 'em."

"I'm already jealous," Descry murmured. "My clothes aren't real. My clothes are just a memory. They're not real Ghastly Bespoke clothes."

"What has Ghastly's mum been doing?" Dexter demanded.

Rover grinned. "Teaching Joan of Arc and Molly Hays how to box, mostly. And helping me throw peanuts at my screen."
skeletonenigma: (tender)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-08-04 02:28 am (UTC)(link)
His father. His father. It had been such a long time since Ghastly last spoke to him. As a mortal, his father was dead long before Mevolent even arrived on the scene, but Ghastly still remembered him. He remembered the tailor shop. And he remembered his mother, the way she was for months after her husband's death. Not grieving, exactly - it hadn't been a shock, she'd known what the result of marrying him would be, and the two of them had discussed it many times. But she'd still been different. Quieter. More introspective.

A lot of Ghastly's memories of his father, come to think of it, involved either clothes or his mother's feelings. It made him smile to think of them both up in Heaven, bragging about him. Bragging about him to a mind-reader. Bragging about him to a mind-reader he was very good friends with and who knew absolutely everything about him.

"Not just shoes," Ghastly contradicted Gabe. "I'm halfway through making you a co - " He stopped, stared, tore his gaze away and tried to remember what he was saying through a stupidly large grin. "Halfway through making you a cowboy hat. But it's good to know what my job prospects are after I die."

It was also good to know that even after death, people didn't change.

"I didn't think I'd ever be calling an Archangel adorable," Erskine lamented. "But here I am, considering it. My worldview has changed. The Archangel and the living skeleton. Am I the only one here who thinks they're adorable?" He paused. "Is adorable the right word?"
skeletonenigma: (what do you think happened?)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-08-04 03:31 am (UTC)(link)
"Then I don't want to be in Heaven for a century," Erskine retorted. "I never want to get used to this. I never want to see something like this and not stop to enjoy it every time. Can you feel his wings, Skulduggery?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's pertinent information to someone, I'm sure. Saracen?"

Saracen, who hadn't stopped staring at the pair since Gabe appeared, shook his head. "I got nothing." He hesitated, biting his lip. "Well, okay, I have something, but it's not something you'd be interested - well, okay, it is, but it's nothing important - okay, it's just not something I'm going to talk about."

"Why not?" Erskine demanded.

"Because it would be like kissing and telling, Elder Ravel. Besides, I need to be careful what I tell you from now on."

"Kissing and telling? Kissing and telling what?"

"Yes, Saracen," said Skulduggery, looking faintly bemused. "Kissing and telling what?"

Saracen was saved from having to answer by Rover, and turned to respond to him instead. It wasn't with anything productive, though - it was with an incredulous "Luci-poocy?" Which, to be fair, was exactly what Erskine was opening his mouth to ask, so no one was going to blame Saracen for it. Erskine could still barely believe the word had come out of Rover's mouth.

"Is that what the angels call him?" Erskine asked, contributing something slightly more productive to the conversation, and feeling vaguely comforted by that fact. "Is that how we should all see him?"

"That's probably a bad idea," Ghastly murmured.

"Like every other bad guy we ever took seriously during the war?" Erskine asked with an eyebrow raised.

"None of them was Satan."

"Mevolent came pretty close. It didn't stop us from imagining him as a big-headed baby. Remember that, Descry?"
scryinghope: (i will call you by name)

[personal profile] scryinghope 2013-08-04 10:29 am (UTC)(link)
Fortunately for Saracen, and for Skulduggery, Rover's comment cut off any inclination for anyone else with a habit of mind- or soul-reading from answering too. Or at least they chose to let it go.

"I gotta admit Luci-poocy's one I haven't heard," Rafe said thoughtfully. "Usually he's the old blowfish, or mister sulfur-stacks, or somethin' like that."

Gabe managed a smile, but it was slightly sad one. "Let's not. At least not to his face."

Rafe's face dropped. "You still hopin' David's in there somewhere?"

Gabe shrugged. "I have to try. If you could remember what I could, Rafe, you'd want to as well."

"If you say so, bro." Rafe shook his head, looking dubious but not arguing. "If you say so."

Descry had put his head back down on Anton's shoulder again, but now he raised it once more, his expression shifting between that inescapable mirth, exasperation, bemusement and just a touch of mental weariness. "How could I forget?" he asked wryly. "It was the only thing that kept me sane after they tried to negotiate a treaty. Key word there being: 'try'."

By that time it had been over century since Descry had had cause to read Mevolent's mind, and a lot had changed for the worse. He would have liked to believe it wasn't possible, but that intervening time proved it was. It was all he could do to pretend to be unaffected while he stood at Meritorious's back for the first time in decades. It was only due to his conditioning with the Dead Men that he had managed it, and afterward ... afterward.

Afterward he had been able to fall apart, and know he wasn't alone while he did.
skeletonenigma: (oops he smiled anyway)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-08-04 01:40 pm (UTC)(link)
"David?" Saracen frowned. "Who's David?"

It probably wasn't very often that Saracen heard a name and didn't immediately know something about it. "Lucifer's more humane alter-ego," Skulduggery explained. "It's a long story," he added when Saracen raised an eyebrow. "Someone managed to brainwash Lucifer and David was the result. What Lucifer might have been. Gabe thinks David might still be reachable."

"Hold up. Someone brainwashed the Devil?"

"For lack of a better word."

Saracen stared. "Why don't we just get that person's help?"

Skulduggery laughed, sudden and loud, and shook his head almost hard enough to dislodge Gabe from his shoulder. "No."

"But you just said - "

"This would be the same person who's the root cause of all of my problems right now. The same person who killed, tortured, and brainwashed practically everyone stuck in his demonic prison. The same person who kidnapped and brainwashed Valkyrie."

"Kidnapped and what?" Valkyrie cut in, her smile sliding off her face.

"Kidnapped and brainwashed you. Don't worry. You don't remember."

"Really? Oh good. Now I feel so much better."

"There shouldn't be any long-term consequences either. You won't have lost any time. Long story short, Saracen, even if we could bring him or his technology here, it would only make our problems worse."

Erskine's smile slipped just as quickly as Valkyrie's at the subtle reminder of what happened to Descry after that day. He remembered it all too well. "It doesn't hurt anymore, does it?" he asked. "What with you being dead and all. You don't get lost anymore?"
skeletonenigma: (rare moment of relaxing)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-08-04 02:44 pm (UTC)(link)
That was... good, in one sense. Erskine had noticed how relaxed Descry was, how much happier he looked, how much freer he was. And Erskine knew he wasn't the only one to notice, either. Skulduggery never missed anything, and Saracen had never been a target of Descry's fatherly affection so often before.

But at the same time, there was something else different. Nothing bad, exactly, but still different. Descry had always had a way about him, that quiet confidence of someone who knew things, and it was one of the traits that marked him. Now, it was exacerbated. Increased tenfold. Like Descry wasn't even human anymore, speaking from the position of... well, of an angel. An Archangel.

... And he could hear every single word of that, of course. Out of habit, Erskine blanked his mind, realised he didn't really have anything to be ashamed of, and then shook his head. Descry had been dead for too long. Erskine had forgotten everything about handling him.

Not handling him. Dealing with - no. Acting around him? Maybe.

"I think that's great," Ghastly said. "You've more than deserved it. Heaven's everything it's cracked up to be, is it?"

Handling his ability. Not Descry. Descry had always been a joy to handle. So to speak.
scryinghope: (i will learn to love the skies i'm under)

[personal profile] scryinghope 2013-08-04 11:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Descry looked at Erskine in amusement, quite obviously--to those who knew him--listening to every rambling thought which ran through the man's head without actually commenting on any of them. Then again, the twinkle in his eyes was comment enough for anyone who mattered. An angel, really.

... Not that Erskine's blanking his mind would have helped at all anymore. There was something about being just a soul which had honed Descry's power to a fine point. It was one of the reasons he could safely tell his own thoughts now, when he couldn't before, but at the same time it did mean surface blankness wasn't much of a deterrent anymore.

"Something like that," Descry answered, letting Erskine off the hook by looking at Ghastly, an unconscious tilt to his head. Ghastly did think it was great, but at the same time he was discomforted by the thought. "Not exactly how you'd expect it. It's not just the same thing every day, let me put it that way. The afterlife is full of surprises. Heaven is the Place To Be, but it's not the only place to be."

"Let's get this party started," Rover declared, shoving his bowl of peanuts into Dexter's hands and pointing at Fletcher. "You and I, kid, we're going to go out and get ourselves a prophet and a bottomless pit of booze. Saracen, where's the best place to get booze around here? It's been a little while since I went to any of the taverns, see."
skeletonenigma: (rare moment of relaxing)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-08-05 02:21 am (UTC)(link)
Descry was right about Ghastly. And while the mind-reader's answer sated a lot of Ghastly's concern, it didn't get rid of all of it. It wasn't anything to talk about now, though, not when they all had an opportunity to see Skulduggery drunk. It could wait for when they brought up more serious topics in the morning.

"And you think I've been to any of them any more recently?" Saracen asked with a laugh. "I haven't even been in the country for the last couple of years. Which, now that I think about it, is probably a lot more recent than you, and geographically speaking a lot closer than you, but my point still stands. And don't expect my magic to be of any help. I can't just call on knowledge like that. Would it be inappropriate, and slash or possible, for us to ask the angels to summon a bottomless pit of booze?"

"Oh, for the love of - I know where we can get some," Fletcher interrupted before anyone could answer. "There's a great place just down the street from the Grandeur Hotel. Kind of expensive, but it's really good."

He faltered when he noticed Valkyrie staring at him. "What? I heard it from the concierge there. I haven't actually had any."

"No, it's just..." Valkyrie shook her head. "For a moment there, you actually sounded kind of mature."

"I'm always mature."

She laughed. "Not when we first met you, you weren't."
skeletonenigma: (well i am very impressive)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-08-05 12:03 pm (UTC)(link)
"I really don't see the hurry," Skulduggery complained as Fletcher and Rover vanished. "I've been drunk before. It won't be a new experience. Rover might be unhealthily obsessed."

"Or just the right amount of obsessed," said Ghastly. "I don't remember the last time you got drunk. What do you remember about it?"

Skulduggery hesitated. "Um..."

"Where you were? Who you were with? What we were celebrating?"

"That part's easy. We're Irish. We were probably celebrating the fact that the sun rose."

"It is pretty amazing when the sun rises." Ghastly smiled. "But you don't remember, do you? For all intents and purposes, this is a new experience. Descry, I've been meaning to ask. Can you read Skulduggery's mind these days?"
scryinghope: (but hold me fast)

[personal profile] scryinghope 2013-08-05 12:20 pm (UTC)(link)
"I wouldn't call it reading," Descry admitted, resting his chin on Anton's shoulder and regarding Skulduggery with a lazy sort of humour. "But I have more of a sense of him than I used to." He shrugged. "It's not soul-reading. It's more about the echo his thoughts leave on the metaphysical fabric of things."

"Are you trying to make our brains explode?" Dexter demanded.

"Who said I was trying?"

"Here." Anton led Descry over to an armchair and pushed him down into it. "I'm not a leaning-pole."

"Only because it might make Rover jealous," Descry murmured with a smile, but obeyed the directive by sinking down into the cushions.

"That, and I think you were about to fall over in spite of my help. I thought you would have better control against being overwhelmed by now."

"He just figured it was about time you had someone falling at your feet," Dexter mumbled, cracking open a peanut and tossing it into his mouth. "When was the last time Skulduggery got drunk, Descry?"

"Skulduggery's bachelor party," Descry said promptly. "Ghastly wanted him to get drunk when they found out Liliya was pregnant, but Skulduggery spent the night winding himself up about being an awful father instead."
skeletonenigma: (you okay?)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-08-05 12:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Ghastly noticed Skulduggery stiffening at the idea that his mind was no longer the safe harbour it once was. It was a new idea for the tailor, too. You got used to Skulduggery's mind being a locked vault of secrets. It was strange to think of someone being able to access them to any degree. Angels were different; angels were close to infallible. Descry was Descry, and he was 'reading' the mind of someone who used to be Lord Vile.

And he hadn't stopped smiling once all night.

Ghastly hadn't needed any more proof that Skulduggery was worth saving, but it was nice to have the reminder. It would probably help Skulduggery too, if the skeleton let himself think that far. Which, to be honest, he probably wouldn't.

"Winding himself up?" Ghastly chuckled. "Multiply that by a few beers. I don't think I helped at all."

"She sprung it on me," Skulduggery murmured. "I was trying to coordinate a battle effort and she sprung it on me. On purpose. How was I supposed to focus on drinking?"

"That's the point, Skulduggery. You don't. You're supposed to numb yourself to whatever's winding you up."

"I was supposed to numb myself to my unborn child? What if something had gone wrong and I was too drunk to help?"

"Something like...?"

"Liliya could have gone into premature labour."

"Premature by seven months?"

"I don't like your tone, Bespoke. In fact, now that I think about it, tonight isn't a good night for drinking either. What if Lucifer arrives in the morning, and the only person able to think objectively about it is a blind ex-Necromancer?"

That was a good point. But Ghastly was pretty sure he had a solution for that too. "I'm assuming that if angels can sanctify booze, they can sober everyone up as well. Is that true, Gabe?"

Gabe hadn't yet moved from Skulduggery's shoulder. It made an adorable picture.
comedianhealer: (the concrete and the sky switch places)

[personal profile] comedianhealer 2013-08-05 01:07 pm (UTC)(link)
"Of course she sprung it on you," Descry said. "You were trying to coordinate a battle effort. There's no better time to utterly destroy your husband than when he's trying to be serious and broody."

"Speaking from experience, Descry?" Anton asked deadpan, leaning up against the chari's arm.

"I met Liliya too, you know."

"I can't," Gabe refuted Ghastly's assertion. "I'm not a healer-angel. And I'm not sure if Rafe can do it if he's going to have a hangover as bad as Michael's was when we tested this hypothesis on him."

Rafe guffawed. "Aw, he was adorable. I think he'da given me the world if I only healed his aching ... well, being."

"And then he dumped you in the lake in revenge."

"That was just mean, that was."

"And when you came out you were wearing his socks."

"That was even worse!" Rafe gesticulated wildly. "He wears pink and purple socks with boots and flannels! What kind of self-respecting angel wears pink and purple socks with boots and flannels?"

Descry had covered his eyes and fallen back into the armchair in fits of laughter. Dexter and Anton looked Rafe up and down, taking in his long grey coat, ratty jeans and tie-dyed T-shirt. "I have no idea," Anton said, while Dexter nearly choked in a peanut. "What kind of self-respecting angel wears pink and purple socks with boots and flannels?"
skeletonenigma: (it's funny how you think you've won this)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-08-05 01:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Ghastly's face blanked as he looked at Rafe. "The kind of angel who thinks it's somehow better to wear clothes he got from a dumpster that traveled through time, obviously. Gabe, I might have to delay your hat."

"I was wondering when you were going to say something," said Erskine with a large grin. "I thought I was going to have to say something for you. But now that someone's brought it up, what is it with angels and clothes? You'd think there had to be some form of subtlety somewhere."

"I don't know," Ghastly shook his head. "But I'm fixing it now. Merlin got a nice star-spangled robe. Is there anything in particular you'd like, Raphael? A certain colour? A certain image? I recommend white suits."

He didn't often recommend white suits. Even magic could only go so far in keeping clothes looking clean. But for angels, he was sure it would be more than sufficient. In fact, he was already wondering how the suits would look on a glorified angel. He was even starting to wonder what Heaven might look like filled with white-suited angels.

"We got booze!" Fletcher announced as he popped into view alongside Rover and three brown paper bags. "Rover wanted to buy out the whole store. Can I get credit for stopping him?"
comedianhealer: (can't nobody come close to)

[personal profile] comedianhealer 2013-08-05 01:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Rafe looked down and then up again, and sounded offended as he said, "What's wrong with my clothes? I'm undercover, man! I'm a hobo! I gotta look the part! No one ever sees a hobo and thinks angel. 'Cept for you blokes. And womens."

"At least I'm wearing something that matches," Gabe murmured.

"It makes you look like an exchange student," Rafe grumbled.

"What's wrong with being an exchange student?"

"Are you kiddin'? Everyone thinks you spend all your study-time smokin' pot!" Rafe paused. "Maybe I should try an exchange-student disguise next time."

"Or you could wear one of Ghastly's suits," Gabe pointed out. Rafe looked down again.

"I dunno. A white suit? Be a nice contrast, I guess, but a suit? I can't wander through a dark alley in a suit. I can't train-hop in a suit. People'd look at me weird if I went to a hobo convention in a suit."

"Yes," Anton said, going to Fletcher and taking one of the bags. Corrival, who had been sitting in the background and snorting, took the other. "Thank you for not giving him more reason to make a mess I would have to clean up."

"I take umbrage at that," Rover complained, holding out a bag for Anton to take which Anton completely ignored as he turned and started unpacking the one he already held. "I can't even make messes! I'm Heavenly! I'm next to God in cleanliness!"

Descry caught his breath and moved his hand enough to peer up at Rover through his fingers. "Is that why you managed to peanut the whole of Heaven?"

"I was just seeing how many people actually noticed. Besides, they were sanctified peanuts. They don't count as making a mess."
skeletonenigma: (trying extremely hard not to smile)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-08-05 08:20 pm (UTC)(link)
"Skulduggery does all of those things in a suit," Ghastly pointed out. "He doesn't seem to mind."

"That's because I can't make myself bullet-proof without one of your suits," Skulduggery countered. "And hobo conventions are very dangerous places."

"If it's 'low-key' you want," Ghastly continued, skimming smoothly over the words 'low-key' with only the barest hint of a disagreement on definitions, "I can always make you a toga or a robe. Anything, really, but that."

Erskine laughed at Rover's offence, and reached over to take the bag Anton had completely ignored. "Well, Descry noticed," he pointed out. "Even if Descry noticing something never really counts. Anyone else? How do you not notice when your home is suddenly covered in sanctified peanuts? Ooh, Scottish whiskey. Good choice, Fletch."

"Me?" Fletcher asked, surprised. "Rover picked stuff out, not me."

"Word of advice, Fletcher," said Skulduggery. "When someone pays you a compliment, accept it, even if it's not true. Even if, and especially if, the true credit belongs to someone with an over-inflated ego who could probably be taken down a peg or two. Next to God, Rover?"
comedianhealer: (that's not a plane that's me)

[personal profile] comedianhealer 2013-08-06 09:26 am (UTC)(link)
"Skul-man don't care about bein' inconspicuous," Rafe retorted. "If he did, he wouldn't drive a Bentley."

"Not that there's anything wrong with driving a Bentley," Gabe murmured, too softly to be heard by anyone but Skulduggery. "Especially such a nice and dignified Bentley like Grace."

"Hey, I can rock a toga," Rafe said. "But how are they conspicuous, unless I wanted t'go to Rome a coupla centuries ago?" He crossed his arms. "An' I still don't see what's so wrong with 'that'. 'That' is really comfy."

"Oh, other people noticed," Descry assured Erskine, covering his eyes again but not in the least bit hiding his grin. "They just found it funny. There was peanut wars. There were peanut swimming races. There was a peanut feast. We now officially have a Year of the Peanut in Heaven."

Rover turned on Skulduggery with a pout, handing out bottles. "Hey! I'm a resident of Heaven! How much closer to God d'you want me to get before I'm next to the Godliness? Here, present." He handed Valkyrie a bottle of white sparkling grape drink. "Yeah, it's non-alcoholic," he told her with a shrug, "but I don't want to get kneed in the groin by an irate mother, and this means you can watch and giggle at the rest of us."

"You're a soul," Dexter pointed out, leaning forward to choose between the bottles and dump some peanuts shells on the coffee-table.

"Hey," Corrival grumbled.

"Oh, sorry. Did you want some?" Dexter held out the bowl and jiggled it enticingly. Corrival sighed, reached out and took a handful.

"When in Rome," he said with a shrug.

"Just because I'm a soul doesn't mean I can't be hurt," Rover protested, pointing accusingly at Erskine. "He punched me and it hurt! Getting kicked in the family jewels isn't worth the risk!"
skeletonenigma: (please tell me more)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2013-08-06 12:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Skulduggery might have objected to Rafe's conclusion but for two reasons - or at least, two reasons Ghastly could think of. First, Rafe was right. Skulduggery didn't care about being inconspicuous. He didn't see a point to being inconspicuous. He'd had to be talked into wearing a disguise around mortals, for God's sake, and he still didn't quite see a point to that.

Second, Gabe was draped over his shoulder, and Ghastly didn't need to be able to see souls to know that Gabe was a very strong anchor for Skulduggery. A source of radiated comfort. That idea was confirmed a moment later when Gabe turned and murmured something into Skulduggery's ear, and it elicited a small smile on Skulduggery's face.

"'That' is embarrassing even by hobo standards," Ghastly retorted, turning his attention almost reluctantly back to Rafe. "'That' will be replaced, whether you want it to be or not. Pick something, or I will make you a white suit with cardboard wings on the back."

Valkyrie couldn't quite stop her face from falling as she accepted her bottle, but then her expression shifted itself into resigned acceptance. "Yeah, okay. Someone needs to be able to take pictures, anyway." She brightened. "And this way I can have blackmail material on my boyfriend."

"Oy," Fletcher grumbled. "What makes you think I'm drinking?"

"Because you wouldn't be you if you didn't, Fletch," Valkyrie informed him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. I won't charge blackmail prices that are too exorbitant."
comedianhealer: (so now my ceilin' is painted with cosmic)

[personal profile] comedianhealer 2013-08-06 01:18 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'll have you know I've had hobos compliment me on my dress-sense," Rafe retorted, smoothing down his faded shirt. He grinned suddenly. "Do your worst, mister boxing tailor sir."

"That's the spirit!" Rover shoved a bottle into his hands and then held out one to Skulduggery. "Here, go feed your angel the bottle."

Gabe took the bottle from over Skulduggery's shoulder, still grinning. "What makes you think I'm not the one who should be feeding my detective?"

"It's always the quiet ones," Rover lamented, turning and surveying the room with satisfaction. Aside from Valkyrie, with her non-alcoholic stuff, and Solomon, whom they had rescued from China in a quick one-two-three Teleportation, everyone had a bottle. Someone had even put on under Descry's arm, where he lay with his legs over the chair's arm, like it was a teddy-bear. Rover pursed his lips and shook his head. "Nope, no good. We need a TV. We need to start this evening with a drinking game which includes bad soap operas. Angels, present!"

"Hey!" Dexter protested. "I'm the conjurer, here! What, have you lost faith in me after all this time?"

"Dex, you can barely conjured a car that goes and stops on command," Rover pointed out. Dexter scowled.

"So? I still should have been the first person you asked. It's my right to turn you down and not say why."

"Aw." Rover leaned on the back of his chair, stroking his hair and taking one of the blond's hands to kiss his palm. "There there, my sweet. I'll make it up to you later."

"Massage," Dex decided. "I demand a massage for this insult."

"If you insist, wifey."

Rafe was laughing as he waved up a TV in the corner, complete with every channel they could want. He bowed as he presented Corrival with the remote control. "All yours, sah."

"As it should be." Lazily Corrival accepted the remote, flicking the TV on.

"Right." Rover flopped into a chair, grinning and waving at the others to hurry up and find a seat already. "For the uninitiated, the terms of the game are simple! Dad over there picks a soapie, we watch the first episode or two, drinking at will, to find out what the terms are, and then after that every time someone does or says something specific we take a drink. Easy-peasy." He shrugged. "Or, alternately, we can just watch Skulduggery and his angel, or Tanith and her tailor, and every time one of them does something adorable we drink. More games to come as we get drunker."