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chieriiTitle: But They Won't
Source: SMT2
Characters: Gabriel, Hiroko, Virtue
Warnings: SMT2 spoilers. Including the massively mindscrewy one.
Category: Generic
Rating: G
Note: The "not-thoughts" seem a bit OOC on purpose - they're filtered through Gabriel's own mind so they seem like her own. I wanted to address this in the fic but couldn't find a good place to do so.
Gabriel gathered the blue cloak in her arms, and gently placed it into the washing unit as if handling a wine glass.
Ironically, it was Sunday. Not that there was a day of rest to begin with. No, humanity had been perfectly enslaved, and brainwashed to the point of not realizing they were working even when they thought they were resting. How she and the others had managed that, she would never know.
She wouldn’t be needing that cloak anymore. But somehow, she just couldn’t bear to see the cloth she’d worn in her human disguise stained with the blood of her fellow Seraphim, splattered from swords still flying in their frenzied attack. She had stood passively by and watched them die. Michael had given her a baleful glare as he struggled for his last breaths.
But she knew Aleph and Hiroko could not have been merciful. Hiroko in particular being raised as a Templar Knight, to work in the service of her master’s name, suddenly forced to fight Uriel, Raphael, and Michael, and then…
She had known they were still numb as they left her and the battered corpses to meet with Zayin as she’d asked. She had known they had forced their minds into a battle-frenzy to cope during the fight itself.
And what was she to do to cope? Laundry?
With nobody there to see her weakness, she leaned on the washing unit as it whirred noisily away, letting its motor’s vibrations hammer into the side of her face. Not only the other three, but the one being they had believed with all their hearts was their master, for so long… Gabriel couldn’t help but feel some lingering attachment to the impostor.
A gentle reprimand – you should not - flickered through her head, so unobtrusive it might have been her own thought, but so brief and so sudden it could not be.
“I know…” she whispered to the empty, low-lit room. “I am sorry.”
“…Gabriel?” The Seraph looked up at the tear-choked voice, startled anyone would come into the laundry room at a time like this. Hiroko stood in the doorway, one of Aleph’s demons, a Virtue, accompanying her.
Gabriel straightened up, her wings opening ever so slightly to make herself seem stronger, sturdier, better able to handle Hiroko’s, and the Virtue’s now that she saw her face more clearly, grief. “What is it? I thought I asked you to go meet Zayin.”
“We have,” said Virtue. “Aleph had to stop at the bar. We had to come find you.”
The way the Virtue said it, with a hint of threat, made Gabriel recoil. “You…you have no time to rest…the alarm…”
“What did we just do?” Hiroko screamed across the empty room. “We fought…we killed…” She trailed off, unable to speak further.
“We killed…Uriel, Raphael…Michael…” Virtue finished for her, her voice barely audible. “We killed…we killed God.” The Divine looked up at Gabriel, then, her face slowly shifting from grief and shock into rage. “And you…you congratulated us!”
With robes billowing behind her, Virtue spread her wings and charged across the room, her hands closing around her superior’s neck and tightening with all their strength. Gabriel instinctively grabbed the other angel’s hands, and tried to pull them away.
“Virtue!” Hiroko called. “Stop!”
“You condoned our blasphemous actions! You are no servant of God!”
Not a servant of God? Again, thoughts hers but not hers, sardonic. Virtue jerked away as if shocked, as if she had “thought” the same.
The Divine regarded Gabriel with widened eyes. “Was that…”
Gabriel rubbed her neck with one hand, breathing heavily as she recovered. “It was. Do not...do not worry. We are all still...within the bounds of faith.”
“What do you mean?” Hiroko asked, taking a few steps forward. “What just happened? What’s going on?”
“You will learn in due time,” said Gabriel, recovering her composure. “Know that the deaths of my fellow Seraphim are regrettable, and…I would rather they still be alive, but it truly could not be helped. Now retrieve Aleph and go. Holytown needs you. I will speak with you and Aleph again when there is time to do so, and I will answer your questions then.”
“She is right,” said Virtue, flying back to Hiroko’s side. “We cannot let any innocents die. Not after what happened to Valhalla.”
Hiroko looked at Gabriel, opened her mouth to ask another question, then thought better of it and ran from the room, Virtue trailing behind her. She knew the poor girl had to be confused. One second, Virtue had been in a murderous rage, and suddenly, without warning, had been completely supportive of her. Gabriel had to give her credit for knowing her priorities, and for trusting her.
Then again, Hiroko had always trusted her. She would think it was blindly, but Hiroko was not blind in the slightest. If she had been, she wouldn’t have been able to fight the other Seraphim, or the impostor.
She trusted her words when she told them this city was not what God wanted.
She trusted the elder clad in blue when she approached her with an offer to carry their genetically-engineered Messiah to term.
Always the angel of annunciation, she not-thought.
She chuckled quietly to herself, playing distractedly with the lilies in her hand. “I believe it was deliberate this time. …He shows the qualities of a true Messiah, despite his origins. Perhaps things will work out.”
Source: SMT2
Characters: Gabriel, Hiroko, Virtue
Warnings: SMT2 spoilers. Including the massively mindscrewy one.
Category: Generic
Rating: G
Note: The "not-thoughts" seem a bit OOC on purpose - they're filtered through Gabriel's own mind so they seem like her own. I wanted to address this in the fic but couldn't find a good place to do so.
Gabriel gathered the blue cloak in her arms, and gently placed it into the washing unit as if handling a wine glass.
Ironically, it was Sunday. Not that there was a day of rest to begin with. No, humanity had been perfectly enslaved, and brainwashed to the point of not realizing they were working even when they thought they were resting. How she and the others had managed that, she would never know.
She wouldn’t be needing that cloak anymore. But somehow, she just couldn’t bear to see the cloth she’d worn in her human disguise stained with the blood of her fellow Seraphim, splattered from swords still flying in their frenzied attack. She had stood passively by and watched them die. Michael had given her a baleful glare as he struggled for his last breaths.
But she knew Aleph and Hiroko could not have been merciful. Hiroko in particular being raised as a Templar Knight, to work in the service of her master’s name, suddenly forced to fight Uriel, Raphael, and Michael, and then…
She had known they were still numb as they left her and the battered corpses to meet with Zayin as she’d asked. She had known they had forced their minds into a battle-frenzy to cope during the fight itself.
And what was she to do to cope? Laundry?
With nobody there to see her weakness, she leaned on the washing unit as it whirred noisily away, letting its motor’s vibrations hammer into the side of her face. Not only the other three, but the one being they had believed with all their hearts was their master, for so long… Gabriel couldn’t help but feel some lingering attachment to the impostor.
A gentle reprimand – you should not - flickered through her head, so unobtrusive it might have been her own thought, but so brief and so sudden it could not be.
“I know…” she whispered to the empty, low-lit room. “I am sorry.”
“…Gabriel?” The Seraph looked up at the tear-choked voice, startled anyone would come into the laundry room at a time like this. Hiroko stood in the doorway, one of Aleph’s demons, a Virtue, accompanying her.
Gabriel straightened up, her wings opening ever so slightly to make herself seem stronger, sturdier, better able to handle Hiroko’s, and the Virtue’s now that she saw her face more clearly, grief. “What is it? I thought I asked you to go meet Zayin.”
“We have,” said Virtue. “Aleph had to stop at the bar. We had to come find you.”
The way the Virtue said it, with a hint of threat, made Gabriel recoil. “You…you have no time to rest…the alarm…”
“What did we just do?” Hiroko screamed across the empty room. “We fought…we killed…” She trailed off, unable to speak further.
“We killed…Uriel, Raphael…Michael…” Virtue finished for her, her voice barely audible. “We killed…we killed God.” The Divine looked up at Gabriel, then, her face slowly shifting from grief and shock into rage. “And you…you congratulated us!”
With robes billowing behind her, Virtue spread her wings and charged across the room, her hands closing around her superior’s neck and tightening with all their strength. Gabriel instinctively grabbed the other angel’s hands, and tried to pull them away.
“Virtue!” Hiroko called. “Stop!”
“You condoned our blasphemous actions! You are no servant of God!”
Not a servant of God? Again, thoughts hers but not hers, sardonic. Virtue jerked away as if shocked, as if she had “thought” the same.
The Divine regarded Gabriel with widened eyes. “Was that…”
Gabriel rubbed her neck with one hand, breathing heavily as she recovered. “It was. Do not...do not worry. We are all still...within the bounds of faith.”
“What do you mean?” Hiroko asked, taking a few steps forward. “What just happened? What’s going on?”
“You will learn in due time,” said Gabriel, recovering her composure. “Know that the deaths of my fellow Seraphim are regrettable, and…I would rather they still be alive, but it truly could not be helped. Now retrieve Aleph and go. Holytown needs you. I will speak with you and Aleph again when there is time to do so, and I will answer your questions then.”
“She is right,” said Virtue, flying back to Hiroko’s side. “We cannot let any innocents die. Not after what happened to Valhalla.”
Hiroko looked at Gabriel, opened her mouth to ask another question, then thought better of it and ran from the room, Virtue trailing behind her. She knew the poor girl had to be confused. One second, Virtue had been in a murderous rage, and suddenly, without warning, had been completely supportive of her. Gabriel had to give her credit for knowing her priorities, and for trusting her.
Then again, Hiroko had always trusted her. She would think it was blindly, but Hiroko was not blind in the slightest. If she had been, she wouldn’t have been able to fight the other Seraphim, or the impostor.
She trusted her words when she told them this city was not what God wanted.
She trusted the elder clad in blue when she approached her with an offer to carry their genetically-engineered Messiah to term.
Always the angel of annunciation, she not-thought.
She chuckled quietly to herself, playing distractedly with the lilies in her hand. “I believe it was deliberate this time. …He shows the qualities of a true Messiah, despite his origins. Perhaps things will work out.”
