And another angel fic-let
May. 26th, 2004 04:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparkindarknessI'm getting good at this avoiding work thing.
“Praise the lord! PRAISE! Give me a Hallelujah good people! Sing his name!”
You’d think after such a long flight he’d be tried, wouldn’t you? Especially with the three hour delay. I know I am, and the kid’s definitely wilting.
“Has he said a single sentence that hasn’t ended with an exclamation mark?” I looked at kid and thought back, counting everything he’s said since he landed.
“No... not even when he was buying duty free. You’ve got to give him points for zeal, at least.”
“But in the middle of Heathrow?” Sam said, watching the crowd mill past the priest in irritation as congestion built up round the declaiming priest. “Aren’t there laws against that?”
“Yeah, but the police are afraid of bad press - and this looks like a guy who will certainly resist arrest.”
“And loudly.” Sam winced at a particular loud exclamation of faith. “When’s he going to finish?” He growled, pulling himself out of a torture implement disguised as a chair and kicking it with a winged trainer.
I close my eyes and try to concentrate on the lines of fate. I hate doing this - it used to be easy - the whole ‘God wills it’ and the idea of history being written already meant the future was quite easy to read - just a few permutations here and there. Of course to modern modes of thought, chaos theory, and global thinking together all meant that it was near impossible to look into the distant past, let alone the future. “Ok, I got some readings, worst case scenario is 967,562,184 years. Which is probably a miscalculation...”
Sam looked at the minister then back to me, eyebrows raised. “Hopefully, anyway.”
“Hopefully, yes. Minimum is another hour or so. Maybe more. Thing is, he can’t guarantee a captive audience like this anywhere else.”
“Breaking in the new office boy, Esrazel?” The voice was smooth and mellifluous and highly educated. The man was dressed in an obscenely expensive suit, with slick black hair in the most killingly expensive haircut imaginable. Ansekaril. Works for the other side.
“On business ‘Rill?” I put a careful hand on the kid’s shoulder, just in case.
“Kind of. You know how it is these days, ‘Zel. They ask me to come up here, cause chaos, destruction and corruption; and what do I find? There’s absolutely nothing left for me to do. Humans are so much better at this than we are.”
I rolled my eyes and sprawled onto one of the benches, pulling Sam back down with me. “Yeah, you’re certainly onto a cushy number.”
“Very cushy number. And I’m on holiday end of the week, for a fortnight. Low work load, long holidays, expense account to die for. You know you really should...”
I silenced him with a look. That just wasn’t funny. “Save it, Ansekaril. And for the kid too.”
“Sorry, I had to try. Y’know, company policy and all.” Sam was watching the demon with wide eyes, actually drawing a little attention away from the mad preacher. “I’m here to keep an eye on yon evangelist. Wretched things. Years of getting people to sink into decadence and depravity and then someone runs through screaming fire and brimstone and spoils it all. What’s the Divine’s stance on this one?”
“We can’t tell him! He’s a daemon!” Sam said, waaay too loudly.
“Chill, Sam. He’s a business man. Like us now, remember? Just businesses who are rivals. Besides, you can generally rely on ‘Rill to be more reasonable than our immediate superiors.” I glared at the daemon. “That wasn’t a compliment. There are Nazis who are more reasonable than our superiors.” The daemon just grinned, but had the decency not to laugh at least. “We’re on damage control.”
“Damage control, you mean he’s not one of yours?” The daemon nodded towards to still preaching evangelist in an ever more irritated crowd.
“You’re kidding, right? We thought Evangelical fundamentalists were your lots doing - all that hate, holier than thou and condemnation and generally making people’s lives a hard time and turning them from religion.”
“Nope, not us. I’m serious.”
“Um... guys, hasn’t he been going on just a little too long now? Security is looking severely pissed.” Sam pointed at two very unhappy men in uniform.
“Ok, here’s a freebie guys, ‘cos I reckon you need the help, and I can spin it with management.” The daemon pointed one elegantly manicured finger at the preacher and cocked it like a gun. “There you go. One severe dose of jet lag, straight to the sleep centres.” The preacher floundered and leaned heavily on his friend next to him, who began twittering in concern. “You guys can take it from here. Have fun.”
The daemon disappeared in a puff of smoke.
“Well, that was... nice of him actually.” Sam sounded uncertain...
“I’m suspicious too.” Then the smoke of his departure reached the smoke detectors. Such a little amount had a million to one chance of setting off the sprinklers and fire alarms. Nothing to worry about, Right?
“I knew it. Git.” I growled as we ran out of the building under the torrential flow of water. “Find me an off-licence, it’s going to be a long shift.”
“Praise the lord! PRAISE! Give me a Hallelujah good people! Sing his name!”
You’d think after such a long flight he’d be tried, wouldn’t you? Especially with the three hour delay. I know I am, and the kid’s definitely wilting.
“Has he said a single sentence that hasn’t ended with an exclamation mark?” I looked at kid and thought back, counting everything he’s said since he landed.
“No... not even when he was buying duty free. You’ve got to give him points for zeal, at least.”
“But in the middle of Heathrow?” Sam said, watching the crowd mill past the priest in irritation as congestion built up round the declaiming priest. “Aren’t there laws against that?”
“Yeah, but the police are afraid of bad press - and this looks like a guy who will certainly resist arrest.”
“And loudly.” Sam winced at a particular loud exclamation of faith. “When’s he going to finish?” He growled, pulling himself out of a torture implement disguised as a chair and kicking it with a winged trainer.
I close my eyes and try to concentrate on the lines of fate. I hate doing this - it used to be easy - the whole ‘God wills it’ and the idea of history being written already meant the future was quite easy to read - just a few permutations here and there. Of course to modern modes of thought, chaos theory, and global thinking together all meant that it was near impossible to look into the distant past, let alone the future. “Ok, I got some readings, worst case scenario is 967,562,184 years. Which is probably a miscalculation...”
Sam looked at the minister then back to me, eyebrows raised. “Hopefully, anyway.”
“Hopefully, yes. Minimum is another hour or so. Maybe more. Thing is, he can’t guarantee a captive audience like this anywhere else.”
“Breaking in the new office boy, Esrazel?” The voice was smooth and mellifluous and highly educated. The man was dressed in an obscenely expensive suit, with slick black hair in the most killingly expensive haircut imaginable. Ansekaril. Works for the other side.
“On business ‘Rill?” I put a careful hand on the kid’s shoulder, just in case.
“Kind of. You know how it is these days, ‘Zel. They ask me to come up here, cause chaos, destruction and corruption; and what do I find? There’s absolutely nothing left for me to do. Humans are so much better at this than we are.”
I rolled my eyes and sprawled onto one of the benches, pulling Sam back down with me. “Yeah, you’re certainly onto a cushy number.”
“Very cushy number. And I’m on holiday end of the week, for a fortnight. Low work load, long holidays, expense account to die for. You know you really should...”
I silenced him with a look. That just wasn’t funny. “Save it, Ansekaril. And for the kid too.”
“Sorry, I had to try. Y’know, company policy and all.” Sam was watching the demon with wide eyes, actually drawing a little attention away from the mad preacher. “I’m here to keep an eye on yon evangelist. Wretched things. Years of getting people to sink into decadence and depravity and then someone runs through screaming fire and brimstone and spoils it all. What’s the Divine’s stance on this one?”
“We can’t tell him! He’s a daemon!” Sam said, waaay too loudly.
“Chill, Sam. He’s a business man. Like us now, remember? Just businesses who are rivals. Besides, you can generally rely on ‘Rill to be more reasonable than our immediate superiors.” I glared at the daemon. “That wasn’t a compliment. There are Nazis who are more reasonable than our superiors.” The daemon just grinned, but had the decency not to laugh at least. “We’re on damage control.”
“Damage control, you mean he’s not one of yours?” The daemon nodded towards to still preaching evangelist in an ever more irritated crowd.
“You’re kidding, right? We thought Evangelical fundamentalists were your lots doing - all that hate, holier than thou and condemnation and generally making people’s lives a hard time and turning them from religion.”
“Nope, not us. I’m serious.”
“Um... guys, hasn’t he been going on just a little too long now? Security is looking severely pissed.” Sam pointed at two very unhappy men in uniform.
“Ok, here’s a freebie guys, ‘cos I reckon you need the help, and I can spin it with management.” The daemon pointed one elegantly manicured finger at the preacher and cocked it like a gun. “There you go. One severe dose of jet lag, straight to the sleep centres.” The preacher floundered and leaned heavily on his friend next to him, who began twittering in concern. “You guys can take it from here. Have fun.”
The daemon disappeared in a puff of smoke.
“Well, that was... nice of him actually.” Sam sounded uncertain...
“I’m suspicious too.” Then the smoke of his departure reached the smoke detectors. Such a little amount had a million to one chance of setting off the sprinklers and fire alarms. Nothing to worry about, Right?
“I knew it. Git.” I growled as we ran out of the building under the torrential flow of water. “Find me an off-licence, it’s going to be a long shift.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-27 04:04 am (UTC)and for some reason I'm picturing Rill like that Azreal character from the movie Dogma. heh
Little bit of a sticker here.. I have no idea what london is like so I'm gonna hafta be vague setting wise. ;-)
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-27 10:23 am (UTC)That would fit 'Rill quite well, just a little... smoother, a little more professional and at the same time a little more light hearted (he wasn't before, but his work load generally means he treats things like a game, because he doesn't actually have to do anything). Not your traditional daemon.