Michael Carpenter | The Dresden Files (amoracchius) wrote in madisonvalley, @ 2013-08-12 15:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, !open, ~~!35 points, ~~michael carpenter (amoracchius) |
WHO: Michael Carpenter and OPEN!
WHAT:
WHEN: Monday afternoon
WHERE:
WARNINGS: TBD
STATUS: Open/Ongoing
Michael almost couldn't believe that he'd been in this place for nearly a month. It wasn't a bad town, as small towns went, and he supposed that under different circumstances, he might even like it here. It was the peaceful sort of small town that people retired to, and although he had not yet reached that point, he was also well aware that it was not far off.
Was that why he had been sent here?
He had spent a good deal of time in the past days trying to decide if he had missed a signal. Usually, His signs were not so subtle that Michael would miss them. Perhaps he had been brought here to keep peace in this place, especially after the town had reacted out of fear, and attempted to place Draconian restrictions on the people. He had been afraid that violence would erupt out of that, although it seemed to have settled into a quiet - if uneasy - peace. For which Michael was glad. He would continue to look and watch. He had no fear that God was not in this place - He was everywhere, in all universes, all dimensions, watching over those who had faith in him - and even in those who did not. He wished that Harry could understand that. God loved all of His children, even the ones who had taken errant paths.
Michael had gone to the farmer's market early this morning, and found it to be a pleasant experience. He was carrying several bags in his hand, and a large gym bag over his shoulder. He had debated for a long while this morning whether or not he should take Amoracchius with him, and had erred on the side of caution.
Sitting on a bench, he took a quart of strawberries from one of the bags, and ate it neatly, dropping the leafy top back into the bag, so as not to pollute the street. Charity would have taken them, and transformed them into something exquisite, but he could do little better than to enjoy them as God had created them, warm, fresh and whole. He missed Charity. Lord above, he missed her. But he would not wish her here. He hoped, as was one of the theories, that he had not gone missing at home, for he would not worry her so.
He heard steps behind him, and turned with a smile to face whoever was there.
"Good day."