Nathaniel (andwatchitfall) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2013-12-02 21:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-09-29, cels, nathaniel |
a tension in the air
Who: Nathaniel & Cels
Where: Outside SOHS
When: Mid-morning
Nathaniel had been aware something was very wrong for a while. He wasn’t one to watch the news, listen to it on the radio, or read it in the papers. The current events of the modern world triggered too much anxiety for Nonviolence. The presence of the barrier he had heard whispers of had set off red flags without him even stepping foot in the direction of the school. The moment he had a real chance, when he was confident he wouldn’t end up alone with demons or accomplished witches looking to experiment, the angel had let himself drift over to the crowd of people with their cars packed together. Nobody had minded that he had taken a seat on the hood of a car that was clearly not his, they were too preoccupied with their own problems, and even if someone had approached him there was a strong chance Nathaniel simply wouldn’t hear them.
Feeling the hairs on his neck prickle every time someone mention the high school was one thing, it was almost something he could ignore. Even the the smallest snatch of an official report seemed to hit him like someone had turned a high-pressure hose of ice water on him. Now, with a good view of it all, he could feel his nerves light up with electricity. People seemed to say stuff like that as if it was a good thing, but Nathaniel thought he might actually catch fire if his telekinesis didn’t just explode and take out half the street first. Another angel might have already started reacting rather more obviously to something that he perceived to be a magical dome of pure violence. He didn’t -- couldn’t -- see the high school when he looked across the road: he saw an adversary. He wanted nothing more than to seek out a better vantage point, take to the sky if he had to, and push his will onto the barrier until whatever was inside no longer had violence as an option. He could already feel his mind trying to reach out automatically.
Was it likely he could do much to help? No. No, he thought not. The school had become a focal point for individuals and creatures with extensive knowledge of magic, as well as those who were just curious, and he had no doubt more than one angel had bounced both white and holy magic of varying strengths off that thing. In vain.
What concerned Nathaniel was not actually the barrier, though. Merely what was happening on the other side, and it was going to make his head split open if he did not learn to take a step back from the situation.
“You cannot go any further than there, sir.” What? The angel blinked, his eyes searching out the source of that statement. He had been vaguely aware that he was moving, quite certain that he was at least standing, but not that at some point his legs had started taking him towards the large dome of malevolence he’d not been able to stop staring at. The woman who had placed herself between him and his not-particularly-desired location was a small thing. That she was wearing a military uniform truly did nothing to inspire confidence in an Angel of Nonviolence. Ignoring her, he stepped around her small frame and continued to walk. “Sir.” Now she just sounded petulant. With a sigh, Nathaniel pushed up his sleeves -- “I must insist…” -- and pressed the fingers of one hand to her forehead, waiting for his own force of will to overcome her motor functions. Since he had little to no knowledge of how long he had until her own determination put the life back into her limbs, he left her stood a little like a mannequin.
His main problem now was this: now that he had reached the wretched thing, what on earth was he supposed to do with it? The very fact he felt as though he ought to punch it highlighted all sorts of problems.