The year's grandest gala for those who have slipped in the spaces that stand between stories...

[foryourown]

Some time in the evening, a musical chiming starts in the atrium. A soft grumble, and then a roar, and one entire wall descends slowly on gears into the floor. Beyond it lies a resplendent marble plaza, walled on its remaining three sides in glass

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[painhumbles]

Gabriel doesn't want to be here. In fact, now that the reason for his being here is over, he really feels like there's somewhere else he needs to be, and yet, here he remains. Stuck. At the mercy of a chick whose only a little bit less scary than his ex-girlfriend, but a hell of a lot more powerful.

But Murphy and Anna are back to normal and he did swear up and down that he'd make this work somehow. He wanted to keep his freedom, but freedom isn't free, anyway, in this friggin' Wood- you get claimed by something or you wander around like an idiot until you die. Those just seemed like the only options to him. Yes, that's a cynical way of thinking, but he hasn't really had a reason to be optimistic in a long freaking time.

He considers not drinking, because drinking's gone so well for him in the past, but after the third or fourth piece of cake (because his need for sucrose overwhelms his suspicions), he forgets about fairy drinks being suspect and downs a glass.

...And immediately drops it when the effects take hold. It's sickening and it feels like someone just snuffed out a candle inside of him and that candle just so happens to be his Grace. He's had his powers blocked here, but nothing like that overwhelming feeling of weakness, that total lack of power, the lack of static and soul noise he got from the non-Fae in the room.

He stands fast enough to knock his chair over and there's an awkward moment where he tries to fly out, but realizes he can't. In that horrified moment, he bolts from the hall and into the atrium, where he leans horrified against the nearest wall. He can't be human. He can't be. He'd take being a donkey again- lack of thumbs or not, at least he could defend himself.

...Oh. This must be what a panic attack feels like.

Human emotions really do suck.

[tenoroftheskies]

There's a quiet sigh, and Tempest rests a cool hand against his cheek and forces him to look at her.

"Do not be afraid. Breathe deeply to a count of seven. Hold it for that same count, and breathe out to a count of seven once more. What is yours remains so. It will return. Breathe in again, as I instructed."

[painhumbles]

Gabriel tenses at the touch in surprise, relaxes, and then tenses again in irritation and defensiveness as he gently pulls his face away, although never quite taking his eyes off of her. He does, however, begrudgingly practice the breathing exercises, although his exhales keep coming out as agitated huffs.

"The last person I told not to be afraid of me? Wound up raising the Messiah," he says, with bitterness in his tone.

[tenoroftheskies]

"I do so swear on my word and name that I will not impregnate you before the night is through."

Can you hear the sarcasm, Gabriel? It's there. You have to listen closely.

"I would show you, if I had the power, that you are not alone in the fear you face."

[painhumbles]

Gabriel just stares at her. "It's not funny when you actually could," he finally says, dryly.

And then he actually considers her words and tilts his head at her slightly. That doesn't seem... Right. "....You drank the water?"

[tenoroftheskies]

"I am not exempt from the traditions of my own celebration, envoy." She slides an arm around one of his and leads him away from the chatter of the feast, through a door that appears at the tapping of one of the servants on the wall. "Though I do prefer to spend my hours of weakness in solitude."

[painhumbles]

"Gee, I wonder why," Gabriel resists the urge to roll his eyes, but allows himself to be led away. He doesn't... Want to be around anyone like this any more than she does. His pride can't handle it.

"Guess this means I'm off the hook, huh?" Or rather, back on the hook, if you wanted to be technical.

[tenoroftheskies]

The walls light the way. More mosaics, these of plants, laid out in precious stones that glow with their respective lights, brightly enough to fill the corridor.

"Hook?" She raises her eyebrows. "Are you a fish? Do you expect to be eaten?"

[painhumbles]

Gabriel extricates his arm from hers and looks half appalled and half amused as he backs away. "Whoa. First of all? You're the one who jumped to that conclusion, not me." Which gives him a lot of pause, but whatever. "Second of all? I don't know what I'm expecting. For all I know? That could be a possibility. ...No offense, princess, but, uh, I don't know you that well. And maybe I was a jackass before- just a bit. But that don't change the fact that I don't know what you really want from me."

[tenoroftheskies]

"I want you here," she says, and shrugs. "Outside of these walls, you are a tool to be turned against me. Within them, I at least know which way the blade of your temper might face."

She continues on down the passage, as the gems in the walls slowly become little windows, letting in sunlight where there shouldn't be any.

[painhumbles]

Gabriel sets his jaw, but follows, anyway. "I haven't belonged to anyone in a long time and I'm not on anyone's side- I look after my own. That's what matters to me. Everyone else out there? Can bite me." That's not directed at her, if the out there isn't a clear indication of that- mostly it's directed at White Eyes and Kitsune and that Miranda brat.

[tenoroftheskies]

Tempest sighs. "I now understand why I was drawn to you at first. You are a cat in yourself, envoy."

The ground she's walking on seems quite suddenly to vanish in a drop that would kill any human, easily. The mountains surround them on all sides, and there's light, though it's clearly nighttime. Tempest continues to walk down what is apparently a glass skyway. "Do you but consider what waits out there for those you consider your own, and you might not balk so swiftly at my offer."

[painhumbles]

"I'm still here," Gabriel says, walking hesitantly over the glass skyway and, despite what every cartoon will tell him otherwise, keeping his eyes down. "That says something, don't it?" He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Look, I got freaked out before- I don't wanna be trapped here. I don't wanna be kept. I need my freedom. It's about the only thing I've got left."

[tenoroftheskies]

"I am debating whether it would be wise to take you on as a Messenger myself. Perhaps you understand my reservations."

It's amused, at least - mostly joking. As they walk, the mountains fade, becoming a forest miles below, a lake, a ravine that seems to be fashioned from precious metals and stones. She stops, resting her fingertips against the glass to watch the water in the bottom of the ravine. "I would not cage you. Not as the Man with the White Eyes would. Not as Kitsune would. I am not a jailer. Like you, I seek only to protect my own. This land is-"

She stops, sighs and drops her hand away from the glass. The view outside fades, so they're standing in a glass hall backed by dull orange metal.

[painhumbles]

"I kinda grew out of the 'be not afraid' stage. How d'you feel about jingles?" He's joking right back. Being anyone's Messenger is better than being anyone's warhound or attack dog. He might have been bred for that sort of thing, but it's not his style and never has been. It just reminds him too much of what he ran from.

He watches her, not the changing scenery. Boy, he knows that look. The same look crosses his face every time he thinks of Heaven- how it was before the war tore everything asunder. And this place... It's clear they're on the verge of something destructive with the way Kitsune and White Eyes act, with the way everything feels wrong, with things like those skinwalkers lurking around...

"Paradise?" He offers. Not to him- never to him- but one person's Heaven...

[tenoroftheskies]

She gives a little huff of laughter and leans her head against the glass. "Once, perhaps. Now, I do what I can to keep my home from falling to the Wood as it has become."

Tempest closes her eyes. If he's really watching, he'll see her breathing in that same slow pattern. In for a count of seven, hold for a count of seven...

She blinks and opens her eyes, looking like she was almost falling asleep as she stood there. "It's a tiring game."