impudentsongbird: (since the very start)
Gabriel ([personal profile] impudentsongbird) wrote 2012-09-12 01:31 pm (UTC)

"You're not going to convince me to stop trying," Gabriel countered easily. This was a well-worn path indeed. Even if what it took was meeting God Himself, at the end of Skulduggery's un-life, Gabriel was going to be the one to make that meeting happen.

The Archangel had seen many, many people in his life. He'd seen people who'd done awful things and savoured it. He'd seen people who'd done awful things and regretted it. And he'd seen the few, those courageous few, who'd done awful things and gone about, every day of their lives afterward, to redeem themselves for it. Skul deserved Heaven. There were few things of which Gabriel was more certain.

"You're more stubborn than I am," Gabriel retorted teasingly, and then turned to Ghastly. His tone was filled with fond exasperation. "There was once at the Institute when we spent a good ten minutes arguing over which of us got to throw ourselves to nearly certain death. At least I know where I'd end up if I died--Home--but Skulduggery still insisted that he should be the one taking the risk."

True, angels left nothing behind when they died. Nothing visible. But Gabe had been human at the time, which meant he would inevitably have gone back to his Master's embrace.

"If the two of you are quite done congratulating each other on being reckless idiots," Kenspeckle said abruptly, and lifted his hands away from Gabriel's wing, nodding at Valkyrie to stop pouring. "We are done here. Clara--oh, blast, where is that girl? Got distracted again, I suppose."

A twitch ran through Gabriel's wings, the beginnings of a movement suddenly halted, and his head lifted.

"Is that a--usual thing?" he asked, not completely casual, and stretched his wing carefully. The other hurt a lot more than it had just after Kenspeckle had finished; the Archangel could probably fly, if he had to, but he didn't particularly want to by any means. Kenspeckle paused and turned to Gabriel to study him for a moment, his face tired but carefully blank.

"I think you'd better all leave," he said flatly. In him, Gabriel read the spike of sudden apprehension and the knowledge that Clarabelle, attracted by shiny things, was unlikely to have been distracted from the thought of grooming an Archangel.

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