1st revelation
Characters: The Metatron et al
Location: Plaza
Time: Evening
Style: Any. I'll match.
Status: Open like a very open thing.
"--Jesus wept!"
Last thing the Metatron remembered, he was not supposed to get absolutely soaking wet when he entered Heaven. And he had had it up to here with everything under the sun trying to ruin his suit, from flame-retardant chemicals to the blood of a renegade angel. Really, couldn't Bartleby have had the decency not to splash so much? The best he could hope for was that the sudden deluge washed the stain out, not that it was likely.
When he got over the state of his clothing-- which admittedly took a minute or two of bitching under his breath-- the Metatron realized that this was very much not where he had been heading. Heaven was not, and thank God never would be-- something that looked like a city underneath an overturned fishbowl in the middle of the ocean. The problem was, of course, that he was here and not there, like he should be. After all that trouble with finding God just over with, having a missing archangel was not going to go over well in Heaven.
There was also very little that could keep an archangel from going where he wanted to, especially not a seraph like the Metatron. With an exasperated roll of his eyes and a snap of his fingers, he tried to get himself back on-course to Heaven.
Nothing happened.
"..."
This was highly unusual.
He snapped again, and got the same result.
"What in the devil is this?"
It couldn't be Lucifer-- even he knew not to pull this kind of shit these days. But that didn't change the fact that the Metatron was very much stuck and very much confused.
Location: Plaza
Time: Evening
Style: Any. I'll match.
Status: Open like a very open thing.
"--Jesus wept!"
Last thing the Metatron remembered, he was not supposed to get absolutely soaking wet when he entered Heaven. And he had had it up to here with everything under the sun trying to ruin his suit, from flame-retardant chemicals to the blood of a renegade angel. Really, couldn't Bartleby have had the decency not to splash so much? The best he could hope for was that the sudden deluge washed the stain out, not that it was likely.
When he got over the state of his clothing-- which admittedly took a minute or two of bitching under his breath-- the Metatron realized that this was very much not where he had been heading. Heaven was not, and thank God never would be-- something that looked like a city underneath an overturned fishbowl in the middle of the ocean. The problem was, of course, that he was here and not there, like he should be. After all that trouble with finding God just over with, having a missing archangel was not going to go over well in Heaven.
There was also very little that could keep an archangel from going where he wanted to, especially not a seraph like the Metatron. With an exasperated roll of his eyes and a snap of his fingers, he tried to get himself back on-course to Heaven.
Nothing happened.
"..."
This was highly unusual.
He snapped again, and got the same result.
"What in the devil is this?"
It couldn't be Lucifer-- even he knew not to pull this kind of shit these days. But that didn't change the fact that the Metatron was very much stuck and very much confused.