"No," Gabriel growled, "it doesn't." One would have thought that, looking at him, it would be impossible for Gabriel to make such a sound. He was too pretty, too young, too naive. Except that the growl really was a growl, cat-like and warning. "And the thing is, Billy-Ray, that you do have a hole in your gut, and if I ain't mistaken it's there to stay, and that means trips to the Vatican let alone Asia are pretty well past your means."
Better. Not good, but better. Gabriel had firmer control of himself now, and even though Sanguine's soul was fogged with thoughts of massacre so Gabe couldn't even read anything regarding Scarab's plans, the Archangel could at least hold those thoughts at bay. (He wouldn't be able to get rid of the ones he'd already received. The murder of the doctor who'd failed to help Sanguine, he would witness and keep, as always. The wistful imaginings of gutting Valkyrie, he wished he could leave.)
Not precisely shakily, Gabriel used the wall to get to his feet, making sure he was steady before he stepped out from it. Back straight, chin up--still pale and with tears in his eyes and on his cheeks, but with his jaw set. He ignored Sanguine and made for the door to test the lock.
~~~
The fruitcake was somewhere between ... well, Heaven-sent, to use the truly appropriate phrase, and somewhat sickening. Solomon hadn't eaten anything in well over fifteen hours. Anything was worth it for the moment, but on such an empty stomach, the sweetness still made it roll. Solomon ate it patiently and slowly, with little bites, and when that piece was gone he exchanged it for a savoury biscuit.
Despite himself he chuckled. How long had it been since he'd had to introduce himself to magic? Very long. "You don't need to have it changed in the eyes of the law," he explained. "There's no magic in that. Just the having of a taken name will provide a shield against people using your given name to control you--even if they know it. I doubt there's anyone still alive who remembers mine, but it wouldn't matter if there was; Solomon Wreath is protection enough."
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Better. Not good, but better. Gabriel had firmer control of himself now, and even though Sanguine's soul was fogged with thoughts of massacre so Gabe couldn't even read anything regarding Scarab's plans, the Archangel could at least hold those thoughts at bay. (He wouldn't be able to get rid of the ones he'd already received. The murder of the doctor who'd failed to help Sanguine, he would witness and keep, as always. The wistful imaginings of gutting Valkyrie, he wished he could leave.)
Not precisely shakily, Gabriel used the wall to get to his feet, making sure he was steady before he stepped out from it. Back straight, chin up--still pale and with tears in his eyes and on his cheeks, but with his jaw set. He ignored Sanguine and made for the door to test the lock.
~~~
The fruitcake was somewhere between ... well, Heaven-sent, to use the truly appropriate phrase, and somewhat sickening. Solomon hadn't eaten anything in well over fifteen hours. Anything was worth it for the moment, but on such an empty stomach, the sweetness still made it roll. Solomon ate it patiently and slowly, with little bites, and when that piece was gone he exchanged it for a savoury biscuit.
Despite himself he chuckled. How long had it been since he'd had to introduce himself to magic? Very long. "You don't need to have it changed in the eyes of the law," he explained. "There's no magic in that. Just the having of a taken name will provide a shield against people using your given name to control you--even if they know it. I doubt there's anyone still alive who remembers mine, but it wouldn't matter if there was; Solomon Wreath is protection enough."