(Untitled)

[paterelohim]

In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth. A few epochs later the hairless apes pranced onto the scene to the tune of a painfully slow evolutionary two-step, and one-two-three the first angel tripped and fell face-first into an alternate realm of his own design. They said the physical fall itself was over a year long, and that his

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[andihaveto]

It had been more than a while since he'd been behind those golden doors, with or without his siblings. Not to say he didn't venture close, occasionally call to the Alpha and Omega for guidance, for revelation or a simple wish to be near or hear his voice. It was rare that the latter of which was requested; Lucifer was more attune to that.

But he did linger the halls from time to time; a solo grace spreading light from corner to corner, bright as it was and yet near to darkness in comparison to the Father. It was one of these days that the light spread from behind those golden doors, that He Himself left the throne without a word. Michael could remember exactly, the last time he had... Eons since. Long before Lucifer's War to be a little more precise.

So he drew near; curiosity, elation, praise, all rolling off his grace in waves. Something was amiss.

[paterelohim]

The light didn't dim or dissipate, but fell into itself, coalescing into the form of a human-shaped thing, at once too bright and too corporeal-looking to be an angel. At Michael's nearness it started, still shining supernova, and turned to face the angel with an inscrutable look on His face. Something was more than amiss.

"Michael." The light went inward, the very Presence itself of God seeming to withdraw from the far reaches of the halls to tighten and collapse into that singular form- still Infinite, but taking shape. Limiting.

[andihaveto]

His gaze wandered, watching the light pull into itself, condense and boil down to something else. Something more tangible. He'd never seen such a practice there, but it's not hard to guess the intent.

It wasn't often the Lion felt fear. Felt confusion and the inability to say or do anything to dissuade. He felt his core wrench, as if the tether connecting him to his Father was being cut short.

"You're leaving." Spoken as a statement, felt as a question. A plead for an explanation. Don't agree, tell him you're not doing it.

[paterelohim]

He looked to His son, light collapsing impossibly into visible skin, the beginnings of a facial expression forming. Michael wanted Him to say something, anything, to hold him as He had in the early days when only formlessness and Heaven were weighing down Creation.

"Yes." His voice was booming, but less impossibly penetrating and all-consuming than the angel had ever heard it before. In a word, more human. There was no trace of expression in that face, or emotion. A still, unknowable pool.

[andihaveto]

This time, fear did creep down to his core, pushed back of course with the front of duty and obedience. He could see the magnificence of his Father containing itself further, pulling into something similar to that of his newest creations. The new baby. Why? Why was he abandoning himself, his glory and Everything to join them. To leave his firstborns and-- He wants to beg him not to. To stay. Don't leave him to this. Don't leave him when he needs you most- when the wounds of casting Lucifer down are still fresh in his Grace. He doesn't want to have to explain tell his brothers that Daddy left.

"I'll take care of them." The Angels, those weaker than he or Gabriel or Raphael. He'd keep them from turning, from feeling the hurt that he refuses to feel now.

[paterelohim]

"Michael." He knew that this conversation was- the most important one they'd ever had, maybe. It would set the tone for thousands of years therafter. Anything He said in this conversation, He knew Michael would burn into his memory and carry with him forever. Rays of dullness started piercing the blinding brilliance of Him, bringing the light down to a water glow of Light-mottled skin that looked more human by the second.

He nodded and looked Michael dead in the eye, a rich human baritone starting to replace the bone-shaking Omnipresence. "Do the right thing."

[andihaveto]

In a way, it was almost fascinating to watch. The unimaginable being of his Father compressing down, molding, pouring Himself into this small, fragile little human body. The new voice was almost jarring- not unpleasant, still very much his Father... And yet so different it almost made him uncomfortable.

Do the right thing. How... How could he know what was right? He'd learned some things, but he'd always turned to God for guidance when he didn't know. Now he was expected to figure it out on his own. And not just for himself, but for everyone. He knew well enough that even Raphael and Gabriel would come to him as a Leader of sorts. .. He'd need to know.

For a moment, the fear showed, quivered across his Grace like a shiver to a human's skin. Could he really do this? .. Of course he would. It was his Father's last order; there was no doubt in his mind that he would question, go against or defy. He would do the right thing. So he dipped his head, not quite looking at his Father.

Please don't leave. Don't go away. Stay with us, with me

[paterelohim]

There were countless things that could be said at important goodbyes. The Father just looked at His son, quietly imposing. The archangel, so small and young to His eyes, seemed to be made only of need and want, but there was so much He didn't say to Michael.

He didn't say He loved him. It went without saying.

He didn't say He was proud of him. Anyone who didn't know that was a fool.

He didn't assure him that He knew Michael was strong enough. If He didn't, He wouldn't be giving him this responsibility.

He didn't say these or a thousand other things every child needs to hear, because in His mind everything important was already understood. So He just ducked His head down slightly, looking to catch Michael's eye in an unseen by completely irresistible way. "Be good, my son."

And then He was just gone, leaving nothing but ringing emptiness.

[andihaveto]

He knew all these things. He knew His Father loved him. He knew He was proud, knew he was strong enough, knew all those things unsaid, and yet. Michael wasn't as confident. The inkling of doubt, still so unused to the feeling as he was.

Was he strong enough? Would he make Him proud? Could he really handle this responsibility? The gaze was unmissable, eyes caught, senses catching the final words. Be good. ... And that was it. The entire hall seeming that much darker, dimmer in the sudden absence of it's Lord Almighty. GoneThe sudden weight of it all was suffocating. He was gone; Michael had no idea when he'd return, if at all. He was gone, and Michael was alone. The warmth of his Father didn't linger like one might think. Everything of him was gone; no inkling that he' been there in the first place beyond the physical evidence and thoughts of his children

[painhumbles]

The sensation of God's passing wouldn't weigh at all on the lesser angels, as they had never seen the Father with their own eyes, so naturally as Gabriel lurked in solitude as he so often did since the days of Lucifer's Fall, he was the only angel in the area that felt like something had been taken from them. The golden streets were lined with his younger siblings, all passing by to continue their daily activities, while Gabriel had to squeeze his immense Grace in a too-small crevice between two of the glittering citadels. He'd curled up in a ball for several moments, begging that it not be true. Not again.

When he finally pulled himself together, he fled to the Garden first, rather than the sanctum that had so long ago been his playground. Joshua had no answers for him. Talk to your brothers, he'd said. Gabriel's wings had mantled. He'd done his duty as the Father said- his orders had come from Joshua directly, however, so God, Himself, had not spoken to him since Lucifer's untimely fall. He wanted to shout, to back Joshua against

[expunger]

"It is," came a tense voice from behind them. Raphael was hot on his heels, a flutter of wings announcing her before she landed. She'd felt the absence immediately, wings convulsing violently as she stared into nothingness, just feeling. There was no going fetal, no begging, just stoicism and finally gathering herself enough to take flight, leaving Anael and Sandalphon confused in the lower rings

[andihaveto]

It was, really, too much to hope for. That his siblings wouldn't have known. Of course they would have noticed. He was nearly sick with the sheer emptiness his Father's absence created. Gabriel's appearance stung- the painful reminder that he'd only just recently done the deed that surely sent their Father away. How dare Gabriel ask whether Lucifer deserved it. Hadn't he seen him? Heard him? Michael loved Lucifer exponentially, but this.. His twisted fate had made it almost unbearable to even look at him anymore. And Gabriel had questioned it.

Even with Raphael's swift, angry arrival he didn't turn to them. They already knew; there was no point in avoiding the truth. The Throne Room was empty, and that was that.

"He'll return when he sees fit." Now he turned to them, his own wings still as ever, even if the core of himself quivered beneath it's growing stone cover.

[checkoutpandora]

Gabriel wouldn't- couldn't- accept that. With a rustle of wings, he entered the chamber himself, uncaring of the lack of courtesy, of the fact that Michael would likely be offended by his audacity, but audacity was what he was good at. He stood in the middle, staring up at the endlessness of it all. Like most things in Heaven, it could be whatever was most comfortable, but it was without its God, so it was cold, empty, like a tomb.

"Father!" Gabriel shouted, repeating the word over and over again, at first tearfully desperate like a child and then furious. "If you won't talk to anyone else, talk to me. What messages am I supposed to send to our family? What will we do?"

Michael's words weren't good enough. He hadn't gotten answers from God in a long time, so only answers from the Old Man, himself, would suffice.

my icons are failing me ;_;

[expunger]

Raphael was a fundamentally introverted creature. Deprived of the close bonds enjoyed by the three other archangels, she learned first to suppress emotion and second to enforce brutal order in her younger siblings by either discipline or bullying. She didn't know how to express feeling as freely as did Lucifer or Gabriel, and although she envied them their liberty it was necessary to maintain control to avoid the Morningstar's reprehensible fate