sixwordstories | (no subject)

Current Mood: vigilant
Current Location: City Park
Current Music: Immortalis // OTA

Entry tags:

roleplay

(no subject)

[-watching children play in the park-]

So full of potential, are they not?

They are indeed. The true vision of innocence.

[A soft sigh.]

Already dipped in sin. But such is humanity.

[She was watching them too, trying to get their motion down on her sketchpad, but she perks up a bit when she feels someone else there. She offers him a small smile.]

Are any of them your children...?

And open to hope. Not all of them will fall.

[The angel smiles in turn, tilting his head a fraction.]

Nay, child. But they are indeed my Father's children, each and every one.

Yes. I know. They are their Father's children, after all.

[He can see through this human guise and gives her a gentle smile.]

It is good to see thee again, beauty.

[Looks at all the kids and...doesn't quite get it. Namine is a sheltered thing and doesn't know much outside where she was from, but she's also amazingly curious in order to make up for it.]

The Father...?

As are we all.

And you, Angel. Are you always so burdened?

'tis my duty, dear one. I am my Father's son, my tasks are many, and often heavy to shoulder.

[Standing some distance away smoking a cigarette, John watches Michael, admittedly curious but also wary.]

The God of all things. The Creator, Yahweh Himself. He who made us.

[Ah, but one so marked is never invisible, not unto these eyes. Michael chuckles to himself, then turns slightly and lifts a curious eyebrow at Constantine.]

[She tries to think of any story like that she's heard. She...hasn't. But it admittedly sounds 100% better than the Nobodies' "nobody made us, we suck, we need hearts" mantra.]

I haven't heard of him, I don't think. But he sounds very nice.

Your Brothers, they are the same?

[He's been here long enough to know that not all souls share the same origin, so the admission isn't as horrifying as it once had been.]

He is, child. A good and loving Father, tender to all of His children.

Some few, yes. Others have lesser duties, to which they are well suited.

Yes, you are an Angel, not an angel. Michael, I think.

[Happy smiles at this!]

That's good, then. A lot of people need to know someone like that.

Have you met him...?

[He chuckles.]

Should you wish the titles, I am indeed Michael, Captain of Heaven's Glorious Host, Archangel, and Divine Right Hand of God, Bringer of Judgment and Retribution. There are a few more, but ostentation is quite tedious.

And He is always listening, child. Always.

[A nod.]

I have, many times. I have walked beside Him in Paradise, and sat with love at the foot of His Throne.

It can be yes, but it explains why your duties seem more to bear than the others'.

I am called Una.

[He stares at Michael for a moment, undecided, but eventually curiosity wins out. Who knows when he'll get another chance like this? John takes his time walking over, but eventually he stops close enough that he can speak without shouting.]

So. Like the park, huh?

Hail, Una, and well met on this glorious Earth.

[The archangel nods in greeting, then turns his gaze back to the romping children.]

It is a respite, yes. But look yonder. [A slight gesture to the treeline where several dark shapes lurk in the shadows.]

He sounds like a king.

[She smiles brightly because she's always loved fairy tale stories, and if this Father is a King, then...]

Are you a prince? You look like one.

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