firelord uriel. (flamethrown) wrote in mythopoeics, @ 2012-04-05 18:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | !event #018, !mini-log, azazel, uriel |
ninth ✝
[Too often had Uriel woken up confused about his whereabouts, unaware of what sort of trickery those above him had managed. Accepting that it hadn't been God's work, but rather that of an all too powerful deity, had taken some time. Accepting that there were other gods at all had been difficult, though he'd learned to acknowledge them in time.
The archangel had woken from a nick on a nearby bush, the initial pain bringing him to a stir. Was it Zurvan again? Hard to tell from the ground. After a good fifteen minutes, still unsure whether or not he was back in Zurvan (though he could tell this was certainly not Ilium's landscape), Uriel set on his way armed with phone, knife, and compass.
Azazel awoke laying flat on his back wearing his fluffy magenta house slippers and his silk black pajamas. He might have thought he was still dreaming, but the butterfly that landed on his nose tickled just enough to make him sneeze a sneeze that was unmistakably real. Oddly enough, he found himself calm. Waking up in unusual places was becoming something of an all too common occurrence. At least this time the powers that be had decided to pluck them up and drop them off somewhere nice. The grass was soft, the sunshine was warm, and the air was fragrant with the scent of flowers.
Azazel pillowed his hands underneath his head and closed his eyes again. Maybe if he went back to sleep, they would return him to his bed. The fallen angel was too drowsy to be bothered with that niggling voice in the back of his head that was warning him those hedges looked much too tall to be normal.
Barefoot was no way to walk on a path, and so Uriel had opted to travel via grass. Safer that way, even though the trees around him seemed a little ominous. The grass silenced his footsteps all the way up to the relaxed figure in the grass. A figure he could probably see from a mile away with those slippers -- not that the archangel was one to judge someone based on their choice of footwear.
But it wasn't just any figure. It was also a familiar one.
He was casting a shadow over the fallen as he asked his name outloud.
Azazel's eyes fluttered open. It took a beat for him to place a name to the face peering down at him. "Uriel," he murmured in reply. Slowly, like a snake uncoiling, he pushed himself up on his elbows. Archangel or not, the fallen could appreciate a good view when he saw one. Uriel may have had the personality of a cardboard box but his abs were one good redeeming quality.
"Sunbathing, are we?" he teased, a smirk playing at his mouth. It was never too early to start chatting up a shirtless bloke.
It took a moment for Uriel to understand just what he meant, but when he did, there was no smile. This wasn't any time to be amused, or to be making jokes. "They take us in whatever clothes we're sleeping in," he pointed out, but without any malice. "What were you doing?"
Because from one angle it could've looked like he was unconscious. Fallen or not, his brother had already been judged. It wasn't his place to continue to judge him for his sins again and so he would continue to care about the well-being of his fallen brothers.
"You sleep shirtless, hmm?" Azazel's lascivious gaze traveled downward. There was nothing innocent about the thoughts he was thinking. It was such a shame that Uriel was letting a perfectly good body go to waste. It should be considered a sin.
His leering was interrupted by a wide yawn and the need to knuckle the sleep out of his eyes. "I was sleeping in. Enjoying nature. What did it look like I was doing?" His eyebrows winged upwards expressively.
Sighing softly, Uriel, officially immune to all suggestive looks since becoming a cop, lowered down into a crouch, putting himself out of the sun. "Azazel, you know just as well as I do that when we wake up in a new place, it's never safe. This forest may look harmless, but remaining here out in the open will only put you in harm's way."
A pause. "Will you come with me?"
Azazel glanced around. In the distance, he saw a rabbit in the grass. It looked perfectly harmless -- but so had the bunny in Monty Python's Holy Grail. Even still, he couldn't help but wonder if the archangel was being paranoid. Or was he the one being foolish? Either way, he was touched by Uriel's concern.
"I don't see why not," he replied, hitching his shoulders in a shrug. If something with sharp pointy teeth came along... it would be nice to have Uriel there. And let's not forget the eye-candy.]
[ooc: mini set on Monday!]
[There was something very ominous about many of Uriel's surroundings, he'd come to realize during his time with Azazel. From the trees to the vines hanging off them to the bushes littering the ground, nothing seemed safe. Even the paths could very easily be dangerous. Uriel chalked it up to being far too used to abnormal things happening once they were anywhere but New York.
It was by a particularly ominous raspberry bush (or so he thought; he wasn't aware if they were edible or not) that he heard the crunch of leaves. Turning cautiously, expecting it to be Azazel creeping up on him, he saw nothing.
From behind a hand clamped over his throat, and all was black from there.]