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applesaucedream2013-04-15 02:42 am
has_a_horn) wrote in applesaucedream2013-04-15 02:42 am
Hello Darkness My Old Friend [Open to Multiple]
The world is dark and there's a war in heaven. The blackness of the scene is deep, lit only by the graceful, inhuman figures of his brothers and sisters. They dance viciously, hands clasped around long silver blades, slashing as they turn and evade. They bleed light and die like a star going supernova. Gabriel stands trembling, watching. If it wasn't so horrible, it might be beautiful.
He's wearing the same vessel he has been wearing for so long now-
Briefly, the scene shifts. He's kneeling before this vessel, a hand cupping the slightly stubbled chin. He'll shave properly, when he takes it. The man smiles, nods. It looks so sincere.
Gabriel smiles back, in awe of him.
-except he can feel the weight of his wings, the power contained there, his own potential for destruction. Behind him, they sweep up at least twenty times his height, closed in and tight against each other, a gigantic extension of his own horrified posture. Next to any of the rest, he would look so small like he is now. Inconsequential. Still, they'll want him to join in, soon. Michael will come looking, or Lucifer. Enough will have died that he will be needed on one side or the other.
He wonders if this slaughter is really what God wanted, then chastises himself for thinking it. He should fight for heaven, for God. Another supernova lights up the black canvas. A triumphant shout echoes back to him along with a ghost of bright piercing pain. How can they deny the feeling that quakes through them with each death? Is he the only one?
He can't bring himself to take a single step forward. Instead, he drops to his knees and prays. The sounds of his prayers rend the air around him, harsh, beautiful, and useless. No one turns to him, and God isn't listening.
He searches for something, any feeling in the darkness that isn't this, isn't here. When he feels something, he pulls on it like a lifeline.
[[ooc: Gabriel has passed out following events that will be happening in this thread. He doesn't have control over his dreaming, and chances are he won't know he's dreaming most of the time, so expect horror, and expect him to take over the dream.]]
He's wearing the same vessel he has been wearing for so long now-
Briefly, the scene shifts. He's kneeling before this vessel, a hand cupping the slightly stubbled chin. He'll shave properly, when he takes it. The man smiles, nods. It looks so sincere.
Gabriel smiles back, in awe of him.
-except he can feel the weight of his wings, the power contained there, his own potential for destruction. Behind him, they sweep up at least twenty times his height, closed in and tight against each other, a gigantic extension of his own horrified posture. Next to any of the rest, he would look so small like he is now. Inconsequential. Still, they'll want him to join in, soon. Michael will come looking, or Lucifer. Enough will have died that he will be needed on one side or the other.
He wonders if this slaughter is really what God wanted, then chastises himself for thinking it. He should fight for heaven, for God. Another supernova lights up the black canvas. A triumphant shout echoes back to him along with a ghost of bright piercing pain. How can they deny the feeling that quakes through them with each death? Is he the only one?
He can't bring himself to take a single step forward. Instead, he drops to his knees and prays. The sounds of his prayers rend the air around him, harsh, beautiful, and useless. No one turns to him, and God isn't listening.
He searches for something, any feeling in the darkness that isn't this, isn't here. When he feels something, he pulls on it like a lifeline.
[[ooc: Gabriel has passed out following events that will be happening in this thread. He doesn't have control over his dreaming, and chances are he won't know he's dreaming most of the time, so expect horror, and expect him to take over the dream.]]
no subject
Does Romac still have him?
She adds a few more feathers to the growing pile in front of him, her hand shaking. "You got away, didn't you?" she asks. Not that he seems to remember anything, but this is important. "You're not still in one of their cages...?" She knew she'd been wrong to forget him. Mithros, what if he's still trapped there? This is all her fault.
She's automatically reaching for another feather when he tells her to stop, and then she fists her hands in her lap. "I should've helped you," she says miserably.
no subject
"No." He responds firmly. Whatever trouble he's in now, he knows that he doesn't want to get this girl involved. Not when she's already gotten out safely herself. Only...not so safely, because she's escaped only to be pulled into his mind.
There's no telling what could happen to her if he loses control while she's still here. She could be lost in some limbo forever, or her mind obliterated. With a force of will, he tries to push her consciousness out of his mind, but it doesn't even begin to work. He's fighting a war on too many fronts.
He huffs out a breath, frustrated and frightened that he might be starting to panic. "I got away," he lies, "but I'm tired. I need you out of my dream."
no subject
"All right," she agrees with some reluctance. "But I don't know how to leave." Even when he'd woken up, she was still stuck despite her efforts to escape. Frowning, she adds, "I think something pulled me here."
no subject
Quickly though, his manner changes as he forces himself calm. He smooths his hands over the concrete, his eyes shut tightly as he takes a few deep breaths. His heart races, panic radiating out into the general atmosphere. "Daine. I can't get you out. Not now."
It takes a few breaths before he can speak again. "You said you could patch me up? I think...I don't know. It might help." He can't bring himself to look at her. It won't heal anything, or get him out of that white room, or get her out of here, but it might give them both something to focus on in the meantime.
no subject
Her heart rate quickens, and it takes her a moment to realize the panic she feels isn't entirely hers - it's coming off Gabriel in waves, like the fear that stormwings bring into battle. Taking a deep breath, Daine pushes the panic aside, a task made easier by far too much practice facing off against stormwings. She'll be no use to Gabriel if she can't keep her head, and if she can't help him somehow, she's in trouble.
"All right," she says, automatically lapsing into the low, soothing tone she'd use with a spooked animal she was trying to settle. "We'll just have to wait a little while before we try again." Maybe it needs to be a joint effort, with him trying to push her out while she tries to leave.
His suggestion that she patch him up gives her pause - she'd made the offer before she'd known that the base was abandoned, and hadn't he said it was no use? - but only for a moment. At least they'd be doing something, and she might feel a bit less helpless than she does, now. "The medics' room is close by. Some of their stuff might still be there." She frowns a little as she gives him an appraising look. "Can you make it? Elsewise I could go and come back with whatever I find there."
no subject
He stands, bent over, his hand still propped against the wall. He laughs until he starts coughing, then looks across at her. He knows he's deteriorating fast, losing all of his Grace, but he needs to keep going. "How close by?"
no subject
"It's just down that side corridor, maybe ten yards," she says, gesturing to said corridor's entryway a little ways down the hall. She starts to sling his arm over her shoulders, then hesitates. "I can just carry you, too, if it's easier."