Date: April 2nd, 2003 Status: Private (Gabriel, Loki) - Complete Setting: Gabriel's room (at first) Summary: Gabriel has a nightmare. Loki has a nightmare. Gabriel and Loki have a shared nightmare.
He is on his way to Walhalla, looking for Odin. He has to tell his brother, has to explain, makeup some excuse why he's suddenly going bald. It's got to be a good one, Odin is not a god that swallows lies easily and he knows Loki much too well. He has to hurry, tell his lie, before someone thinks to suggest the truth or he'll never get away with it.
Hastily he pushes open the doors ... and enters a blindingly bright place. He tries to protect his eyes with his hand, but everything is so very bright here. With his currently oversensitive eyes streaming he blinks trying to make out something against the light. At first everything is a blur, but after wiping his eyes and blinking some more he can finally make out the shapes of three beings, beings with beautiful wings. Entranced and awed he steps closer.
A shiver runs through his frame, as Lucifer's strangely gentle fingers stroke his wings, black as the Morningstar's own, and yet he can still feel His Presence within him. But where Lucifer's wings are a deep, inky matte black, so black that they seem to absorb colour, Gabriel's are the black of night, the rich shades of black and dark, dark blue and purple that paint the sky at midnight. He reaches out a trembling finger, touches a black feather, and shudders, and looks away, at Lucifer's triumphant smirk
( ... )
The light still is hurting his eyes, but the wings are so beautiful he can't close them. He has to stare, has to reach out and touch. He lifts his hand and reaches out, but stops when he hears his name.
"Beautiful," he mumbles unaware of what exactly he's saying, mesmerised by the black wings of the speaker. "So very beautiful." For the moment he's even forgotten that he is sick and his hair is falling out.
A cold, sick feeling claws at his guts, as Gabriel shrinks back. Loki, too?
"Don't touch me." He is ashamed of the way his voice trembles, and shoves away Lucifer's hand, pushes at Belial's chest, but he is trapped on all three sides now and the headboard is at his back.
He looks back at Lucifer, searching his eyes for a hint of the angel he once knew. "Please." Please don't make me fight you.
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Hastily he pushes open the doors ... and enters a blindingly bright place. He tries to protect his eyes with his hand, but everything is so very bright here. With his currently oversensitive eyes streaming he blinks trying to make out something against the light. At first everything is a blur, but after wiping his eyes and blinking some more he can finally make out the shapes of three beings, beings with beautiful wings. Entranced and awed he steps closer.
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"Beautiful," he mumbles unaware of what exactly he's saying, mesmerised by the black wings of the speaker. "So very beautiful." For the moment he's even forgotten that he is sick and his hair is falling out.
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"Don't touch me." He is ashamed of the way his voice trembles, and shoves away Lucifer's hand, pushes at Belial's chest, but he is trapped on all three sides now and the headboard is at his back.
He looks back at Lucifer, searching his eyes for a hint of the angel he once knew. "Please." Please don't make me fight you.
Was he really so weak?
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