more Sixpence
Sep. 27th, 2004 12:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrThese are done on the fly, eventually I'll gather the snippets and make them more cohesive. For the moment, they're done mostly to keep from going insane due to boredom. Also - I will have to stop/go, so don't be *too* upset if I just randomly leave off.
Nakir and Munkar made their way across the sky, over the Silver City and toward the crystal and silver spire that dominated its center. The two stark shadows were hard to miss amidst the glitter and light of the breathtaking home of the angels, but the sight of angels of death visiting the Metatron and his fellows of the Spire was so normal, none thought anything of it.
The black twins landed soundlessly on the highest balcony. Munkar pressed close to the glass, tapping lightly with his finger nails. Inside a white-winged figure looked up from his desk, and even at a distance the silver rims of his spectlacles glinted. His frown cleared as he realized who was tapping, and the man rose to let them in.
He tilted his head, waiting for the twins to speak. "Pocket," Nakir said. "We've come to see if you've new information."
The bespectacled angel shook his head, silver-gold hair swishing across his back. "None. We're still utterly confounded. Even the--King is confounded. And he's distraught. How does one kidnap one of our strongest? It isn't like Sixpence to just vanish...I wish I could just blame this on demons." Pushing up his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose." He blinked silver-gray eyes at them, "What of you, Blackbirds? Anything at all? And Pie?"
Munkar shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of defeat. "Nothing. He's still searching Earth with 4 & 20. If Sixpence isn't anywhere in Heaven, then the entire Court of 13 may wind up searching Earth. Pie has already said he'll drag us down there after we complete our second search here."
"Should we investigate Hell anyway?" Nakir asked. "It can't hurt."
"King doesn't want to do that until absolutely necessary." Pocket smiled, "Though Rye and Dainty Dish have already volunteered for the task, should it prove necessary."
"Figures. Those three always steal the fun jobs." Nakir and Munkar both looked highly annoyed. Nakir looked around the office, "Where are Sing a Song?"
"Conducting interviews, as best they can without arousing suspicion." The white-winged angel bit at his bottom lip. "We need clues. But no one seems to have any idea where he was the day he vanished. None! How is that possible?" His agitation twisted his face, "One of our mightiest and none of us has any clue!"
Nakir and Munkar were silent, keeping to themselves the opinion that it would not be the first time Gabriel had sneaked off to do something which he probably should not have been doing. The puzzle was that usually they knew what misdeed he was up to. This time they did not.
Munkar was hesitant, "Maybe we should go speak with--"
"Don't even say it," Pocket said sharply. "We dare not drag him into this until we have no other choice. Do you know the havoc it would cause? No, it is simply out of the question." He turned away, "I've got to get back to work. You two looked exhausted. Get some rest, then continue your search. And that's an order."
"Yes, oh wise and mighty Raziel." Nakir said with a snicker.
Raziel glared at him.
"Going, going. Say Hello to the Met for us."
"I shall." Raziel waited until they were in the air before once more locking his balcony door. With a tired sigh he moved back to his desk and set again to perusing every bit of Gabriel's past schedules that they had been able to locate.
But the Archangel Gabriel had always had very good reasons for being vague as to his whereabouts. Those reasons now seemed to be working against him.
*~*~*~*
At the edge of the silver city, not quite into the shadows, was the home that even most angels feared to enter. Far from fallen, but not quite as lofty as other angels, and wings stained black - the Angels of Death.
Something was wrong.
The twins landed rapidly, sacrificing grace for expediency. Barely glancing at the angels gathered outside, they rushed inside to see what was wrong.
"Nakir! Munkar!" Abaddon, a fellow Angel of Death, rushed to their side. "Azrael's study! Ruman!"
"What of Ruman?!" Munkar half snarled, drawing Abaddon close even as the angel tried to back away.
Nakir didn't wait to hear the answer, rushing toward the largest room in their home - the study where Azrael kept every record pertinent to Death.
Several black-winged angels were gathered around one laying flat on the floor.
Munkar appeared at his side as they approached the mostly-unconscious angel. "He caught the intruder...Ruman..." his voice turned hoars, filled with dismay as he and Nakir took in the sight of their badly wounded lover.
Ruman was as pale as the twins were dark, save for his black wings - which were currently sticky with blood and short a great many feathers. His normally bright, lime-green eyes were dulled with pain. Nakir lifted him gingerly into his arms, "Ruman, Ruman. What happened?"
"We'll get you help, Ruman." He looekd at the other angels, "When did this happen? Why were we not summoned immediately?"
"Be-because..." Araqiel spoke up, clearly shaken by something. "Because of who he says attacked him. We...thought it best no one knew, until the Archangels could be informed."
"Who? Who attacked him?" Nakir demanded.
It was Ruman who answered, voice barely audible. "Az..za.." he fell unconscious.
The twins exchanged a hard glance. Munkar turnred to Araqiel. "Take care of Ruman. We will inform the Archangels." He dropped a soft kiss to Ruman's cheek, then reluctantly pulled away. Equally reluctant, Nakir let other angels to see to Ruman. Faces full of the fury that had them so feared by the deceased, they flew off back to the spire.
to be continued..
Nakir and Munkar made their way across the sky, over the Silver City and toward the crystal and silver spire that dominated its center. The two stark shadows were hard to miss amidst the glitter and light of the breathtaking home of the angels, but the sight of angels of death visiting the Metatron and his fellows of the Spire was so normal, none thought anything of it.
The black twins landed soundlessly on the highest balcony. Munkar pressed close to the glass, tapping lightly with his finger nails. Inside a white-winged figure looked up from his desk, and even at a distance the silver rims of his spectlacles glinted. His frown cleared as he realized who was tapping, and the man rose to let them in.
He tilted his head, waiting for the twins to speak. "Pocket," Nakir said. "We've come to see if you've new information."
The bespectacled angel shook his head, silver-gold hair swishing across his back. "None. We're still utterly confounded. Even the--King is confounded. And he's distraught. How does one kidnap one of our strongest? It isn't like Sixpence to just vanish...I wish I could just blame this on demons." Pushing up his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose." He blinked silver-gray eyes at them, "What of you, Blackbirds? Anything at all? And Pie?"
Munkar shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of defeat. "Nothing. He's still searching Earth with 4 & 20. If Sixpence isn't anywhere in Heaven, then the entire Court of 13 may wind up searching Earth. Pie has already said he'll drag us down there after we complete our second search here."
"Should we investigate Hell anyway?" Nakir asked. "It can't hurt."
"King doesn't want to do that until absolutely necessary." Pocket smiled, "Though Rye and Dainty Dish have already volunteered for the task, should it prove necessary."
"Figures. Those three always steal the fun jobs." Nakir and Munkar both looked highly annoyed. Nakir looked around the office, "Where are Sing a Song?"
"Conducting interviews, as best they can without arousing suspicion." The white-winged angel bit at his bottom lip. "We need clues. But no one seems to have any idea where he was the day he vanished. None! How is that possible?" His agitation twisted his face, "One of our mightiest and none of us has any clue!"
Nakir and Munkar were silent, keeping to themselves the opinion that it would not be the first time Gabriel had sneaked off to do something which he probably should not have been doing. The puzzle was that usually they knew what misdeed he was up to. This time they did not.
Munkar was hesitant, "Maybe we should go speak with--"
"Don't even say it," Pocket said sharply. "We dare not drag him into this until we have no other choice. Do you know the havoc it would cause? No, it is simply out of the question." He turned away, "I've got to get back to work. You two looked exhausted. Get some rest, then continue your search. And that's an order."
"Yes, oh wise and mighty Raziel." Nakir said with a snicker.
Raziel glared at him.
"Going, going. Say Hello to the Met for us."
"I shall." Raziel waited until they were in the air before once more locking his balcony door. With a tired sigh he moved back to his desk and set again to perusing every bit of Gabriel's past schedules that they had been able to locate.
But the Archangel Gabriel had always had very good reasons for being vague as to his whereabouts. Those reasons now seemed to be working against him.
*~*~*~*
At the edge of the silver city, not quite into the shadows, was the home that even most angels feared to enter. Far from fallen, but not quite as lofty as other angels, and wings stained black - the Angels of Death.
Something was wrong.
The twins landed rapidly, sacrificing grace for expediency. Barely glancing at the angels gathered outside, they rushed inside to see what was wrong.
"Nakir! Munkar!" Abaddon, a fellow Angel of Death, rushed to their side. "Azrael's study! Ruman!"
"What of Ruman?!" Munkar half snarled, drawing Abaddon close even as the angel tried to back away.
Nakir didn't wait to hear the answer, rushing toward the largest room in their home - the study where Azrael kept every record pertinent to Death.
Several black-winged angels were gathered around one laying flat on the floor.
Munkar appeared at his side as they approached the mostly-unconscious angel. "He caught the intruder...Ruman..." his voice turned hoars, filled with dismay as he and Nakir took in the sight of their badly wounded lover.
Ruman was as pale as the twins were dark, save for his black wings - which were currently sticky with blood and short a great many feathers. His normally bright, lime-green eyes were dulled with pain. Nakir lifted him gingerly into his arms, "Ruman, Ruman. What happened?"
"We'll get you help, Ruman." He looekd at the other angels, "When did this happen? Why were we not summoned immediately?"
"Be-because..." Araqiel spoke up, clearly shaken by something. "Because of who he says attacked him. We...thought it best no one knew, until the Archangels could be informed."
"Who? Who attacked him?" Nakir demanded.
It was Ruman who answered, voice barely audible. "Az..za.." he fell unconscious.
The twins exchanged a hard glance. Munkar turnred to Araqiel. "Take care of Ruman. We will inform the Archangels." He dropped a soft kiss to Ruman's cheek, then reluctantly pulled away. Equally reluctant, Nakir let other angels to see to Ruman. Faces full of the fury that had them so feared by the deceased, they flew off back to the spire.
to be continued..
no subject
Date: 2004-09-27 04:05 pm (UTC)^_^ Glad you approve.
I won't stop, no worries. Actually, I just acquired the last few names I needed so I could write more.
And yeah, this story is totally gratuitous. It's got all my favorites (even the rivalry, mwahahahaha).
no subject
Date: 2004-09-27 04:29 pm (UTC)Now I'm going to be all twitchy until I find out what's happening. x_X