[writers_muses] 64.2
64.2 - "Great warriors, like great earthquakes, are principally remembered for the mischief they have done.” - Christian Nestell Bovée
Metatron sat down behind his desk, running a hand through his hair. Lucifer sat across from him, frowning.
“You’re getting more whites in your hair, sir,” Lucifer said, trying to lighten the mood. His comment was met with a stern glare.
“This is neither the time or the place, Lucifer. And I swear to God, if she keeps doing stupid shit like this, I’ll go completely white by year’s end.”
The two laughed uneasily, and then stopped. There was nothing to laugh about at the moment. In an overdoing of simple orders, Sariel had lead a legion of Heaven’s army and committed genocide on the order of the Grigori, killing a fair amount of humans along the way.
“What do we do?” Lucifer asked. “She did what she was asked. She believes that she did the right thing.”
“I know,” Metatron said. “I talked to her. Well. Not talked. Screamed at for an hour and a half. I said she was suspended from work until further notice.”
Lucifer nodded. “Michael shouldn’t have passed the assignment off to someone else.”
“No. But the truth of the matter remains that it isn’t about him, it’s about Sariel and her inability to control herself. Have you seen the numbers of the deceased?”
“I can’t say I’ve had the opportunity sir.”
Metatron nodded and typed something on his keyboard. He then turned the monitor towards Lucifer. “Look.”
He leaned over and scanned the file on the page, then took a deep breath. “No.”
“Yes. So, while I will reprimand Michael, the matter is primarily relating to Sariel’s actions and commands. Your thoughts?”
“You said she was suspended until further notice?”
“Yes.”
“I think we need to actually talk to her about this. Find out why she ordered what she did. Sariel’s got strong morals when it comes to combat, very much focused on ‘search and destroy’ and not showing mercy. If we can-“
“Lucifer.”
“Yes, sir?”
“I know you two are friends. You are being too light on her.”
Lucifer grimaced slightly, knowing the particular tone of Metatron’s voice. It meant that his friend was screwed.
“I was thinking some 100 to 200 years of exile, with an additional 50 years of suspension and 300 of probation.”
“Too harsh. Fifty years of exile,” Lucifer conceded. “Minimum. 100 years of suspension. 200 of probation. But I still want to talk to her about this.”
“Fine. You can do that and deliver the punishment,” Metatron replied. He turned his attention from Lucifer to something on his computer monitor, staring intently at it. Lucifer took this a sign that he had been dismissed, so he stood up and walked out of the office, mulling over how to relay the conversation to Sariel without her inflicting bodily harm on him.
Word Count: 462
To the Americans on my f-list, Happy Thanksgiving.
Metatron sat down behind his desk, running a hand through his hair. Lucifer sat across from him, frowning.
“You’re getting more whites in your hair, sir,” Lucifer said, trying to lighten the mood. His comment was met with a stern glare.
“This is neither the time or the place, Lucifer. And I swear to God, if she keeps doing stupid shit like this, I’ll go completely white by year’s end.”
The two laughed uneasily, and then stopped. There was nothing to laugh about at the moment. In an overdoing of simple orders, Sariel had lead a legion of Heaven’s army and committed genocide on the order of the Grigori, killing a fair amount of humans along the way.
“What do we do?” Lucifer asked. “She did what she was asked. She believes that she did the right thing.”
“I know,” Metatron said. “I talked to her. Well. Not talked. Screamed at for an hour and a half. I said she was suspended from work until further notice.”
Lucifer nodded. “Michael shouldn’t have passed the assignment off to someone else.”
“No. But the truth of the matter remains that it isn’t about him, it’s about Sariel and her inability to control herself. Have you seen the numbers of the deceased?”
“I can’t say I’ve had the opportunity sir.”
Metatron nodded and typed something on his keyboard. He then turned the monitor towards Lucifer. “Look.”
He leaned over and scanned the file on the page, then took a deep breath. “No.”
“Yes. So, while I will reprimand Michael, the matter is primarily relating to Sariel’s actions and commands. Your thoughts?”
“You said she was suspended until further notice?”
“Yes.”
“I think we need to actually talk to her about this. Find out why she ordered what she did. Sariel’s got strong morals when it comes to combat, very much focused on ‘search and destroy’ and not showing mercy. If we can-“
“Lucifer.”
“Yes, sir?”
“I know you two are friends. You are being too light on her.”
Lucifer grimaced slightly, knowing the particular tone of Metatron’s voice. It meant that his friend was screwed.
“I was thinking some 100 to 200 years of exile, with an additional 50 years of suspension and 300 of probation.”
“Too harsh. Fifty years of exile,” Lucifer conceded. “Minimum. 100 years of suspension. 200 of probation. But I still want to talk to her about this.”
“Fine. You can do that and deliver the punishment,” Metatron replied. He turned his attention from Lucifer to something on his computer monitor, staring intently at it. Lucifer took this a sign that he had been dismissed, so he stood up and walked out of the office, mulling over how to relay the conversation to Sariel without her inflicting bodily harm on him.
Word Count: 462
To the Americans on my f-list, Happy Thanksgiving.