it's all right, it's all right; she moves in mysterious ways.
Who: A very new God (nosetweaks) and a very woah Chuck Shurley (paterelohim).
When: The morning of July 16th.
Where: Arrival spot, the baseball diamond.
Summary: So, one God walks into Canada and says to the other God................
Warnings: uhhhhhh none come to mind, I'll note it if anything happens.
There's dirt underneath her feet. She takes half a step forward, and then a full step back, and feels some bit of stray gravel dig into the soft flesh of her heel. Oh, oh, she thinks, and nothing is said because her Voice isn't nearby. There are daisies in her hands and she holds onto them very tightly.
God can recall horror - Lucifer's outbursts, her Son's sacrifice - but never terror so much as this, when she looks around herself and realizes that she has no idea what's just gone on. Death, yes, and then a moment in Heaven, but New Jersey was supposed to come after- New Jersey and a foolish not-angel. This was completely not in her plans, and that's the exact sort of thing that isn't supposed to happen at all. It's actually enough to make her flinch; her plans are gone wrong, so how will existence weather-
Nothing happens. Things are definitely still alive. With a great exhale, her shoulders drop, and the daisies do too.
She's asked: Are you all right? She's told: Here's what's happened. In response, she nods and she gestures and she takes everything in, but this feels so far from right and she'd love to at least will Metatron here to give her thanks and blessings. This is out of her sphere, she recognizes. She'll deal with that.
She presses a white carnation into the greeter's hands, shakes her head with a tight smile, and settles for doing cartwheels across the baseball field. It's a good start, she thinks as she tumbles. She hadn't made this island herself, but it'll make it that much more exhilarating to wander.
-If not just a little bit daunting. The Creator will have to get used to this nervousness, it seems. Now, then: more important matters. With the very dear greeter out of the way, God can clasp her hands tightly and turn to her left, shuffling quick steps, very suddenly wearing flip-flops, now. There's a man there, and it would be wrong to call him a man, but he is a man, and -
It could be the onset of a headache. It's also an incredible amount of wonder to behold.
This man called Chuck Shurley who came for her so suddenly - she knows that much - is at once a relief and a fright to her. Her steps are earnest and her face is, too, and she comes to meet him silently, seriously, and honestly perplexed. But:
She's glad he came to see her. The moment she'd arrived, and felt, she'd wanted him to.
When: The morning of July 16th.
Where: Arrival spot, the baseball diamond.
Summary: So, one God walks into Canada and says to the other God................
Warnings: uhhhhhh none come to mind, I'll note it if anything happens.
There's dirt underneath her feet. She takes half a step forward, and then a full step back, and feels some bit of stray gravel dig into the soft flesh of her heel. Oh, oh, she thinks, and nothing is said because her Voice isn't nearby. There are daisies in her hands and she holds onto them very tightly.
God can recall horror - Lucifer's outbursts, her Son's sacrifice - but never terror so much as this, when she looks around herself and realizes that she has no idea what's just gone on. Death, yes, and then a moment in Heaven, but New Jersey was supposed to come after- New Jersey and a foolish not-angel. This was completely not in her plans, and that's the exact sort of thing that isn't supposed to happen at all. It's actually enough to make her flinch; her plans are gone wrong, so how will existence weather-
Nothing happens. Things are definitely still alive. With a great exhale, her shoulders drop, and the daisies do too.
She's asked: Are you all right? She's told: Here's what's happened. In response, she nods and she gestures and she takes everything in, but this feels so far from right and she'd love to at least will Metatron here to give her thanks and blessings. This is out of her sphere, she recognizes. She'll deal with that.
She presses a white carnation into the greeter's hands, shakes her head with a tight smile, and settles for doing cartwheels across the baseball field. It's a good start, she thinks as she tumbles. She hadn't made this island herself, but it'll make it that much more exhilarating to wander.
-If not just a little bit daunting. The Creator will have to get used to this nervousness, it seems. Now, then: more important matters. With the very dear greeter out of the way, God can clasp her hands tightly and turn to her left, shuffling quick steps, very suddenly wearing flip-flops, now. There's a man there, and it would be wrong to call him a man, but he is a man, and -
It could be the onset of a headache. It's also an incredible amount of wonder to behold.
This man called Chuck Shurley who came for her so suddenly - she knows that much - is at once a relief and a fright to her. Her steps are earnest and her face is, too, and she comes to meet him silently, seriously, and honestly perplexed. But:
She's glad he came to see her. The moment she'd arrived, and felt, she'd wanted him to.