It was the quiet, more than Skul's words, which alerted Gabriel to what he'd just done. He straightened, almost rocked back, really, in a way that made little fissions of pain run along his wings, and then looked at Tanith with something like panic in his eyes. He hadn't meant to say all that. Hadn't meant to--
Talking to mortals on this level was new. Usually people didn't even know he was an angel, let alone enough for casual conversation. Gabriel hadn't been paying attention; hadn't been careful enough.
"I didn't mean to--" he began, and then had to stop because he didn't know where to go next, glancing around with a strange sort of lostness. There was no one here to ask for guidance. No one to tell him whether he'd done right or wrong by revealing the truth of humanity's inception.
Oh Lord, what have I done?
With that odd kind of detachment of either someone who had heard just a little too much or someone who was just that focussed in their task, Kenspeckle announced, "This wing's done. Renn, get the barrel."
They had shifted down to just past the wing's wrist; it was the more badly injured of the two. The other had injuries which extended beyond the same point, but they were shallower. Gabriel exhaled, made sure that the others were out of the way on the other side of him, and then stretched his wing gingerly. It hurt, still, with Kenspeckle's magic fading. It hurt and it was raw, but less sharp, and felt clean.
"Thank you," Gabriel murmured, and his tone was a mix of chagrin and gratitude. He'd just all but told them they were created by the Devil, and they were still helping him. When Valkyrie asked her question, the Archangel seized on it with the relief of a drowning man.
"It's more fun," he said brightly, and then sobered a little. "Jerusalem has long been a war-zone. We've got forces there, of course--as many or more than Lucifer has. But it's not really a place you'd go for rest and relaxation. Theme-parks are better." He grinned. "You haven't lived 'til you've ridden a roller-coaster as a seagull. Though to be honest my Master and I both prefer the arcade games and bumper-cars."
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Talking to mortals on this level was new. Usually people didn't even know he was an angel, let alone enough for casual conversation. Gabriel hadn't been paying attention; hadn't been careful enough.
"I didn't mean to--" he began, and then had to stop because he didn't know where to go next, glancing around with a strange sort of lostness. There was no one here to ask for guidance. No one to tell him whether he'd done right or wrong by revealing the truth of humanity's inception.
Oh Lord, what have I done?
With that odd kind of detachment of either someone who had heard just a little too much or someone who was just that focussed in their task, Kenspeckle announced, "This wing's done. Renn, get the barrel."
They had shifted down to just past the wing's wrist; it was the more badly injured of the two. The other had injuries which extended beyond the same point, but they were shallower. Gabriel exhaled, made sure that the others were out of the way on the other side of him, and then stretched his wing gingerly. It hurt, still, with Kenspeckle's magic fading. It hurt and it was raw, but less sharp, and felt clean.
"Thank you," Gabriel murmured, and his tone was a mix of chagrin and gratitude. He'd just all but told them they were created by the Devil, and they were still helping him. When Valkyrie asked her question, the Archangel seized on it with the relief of a drowning man.
"It's more fun," he said brightly, and then sobered a little. "Jerusalem has long been a war-zone. We've got forces there, of course--as many or more than Lucifer has. But it's not really a place you'd go for rest and relaxation. Theme-parks are better." He grinned. "You haven't lived 'til you've ridden a roller-coaster as a seagull. Though to be honest my Master and I both prefer the arcade games and bumper-cars."