Azrael (lasttodie) wrote in onewaythreads, @ 2018-02-07 18:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | azrael, susan sto helit |
Who: Susan Sto Helit and Azrael.
When: Tuesday, after midnight. Closing time.
Where: Limbo.
What: The Archangel of Death meets Deaths Granddaughter.
Warnings: None
All was quiet and the bar had been closed. The staff had been sent home, the drunks had left, and only a few lights were left twinkling in the darkness. How empty it all seemed when no one was around. At least in the physical world. Peeking beyond the physical, the spirits of the newly departed spent their time coming to terms with what lay ahead, while a part of Azrael remained with them, comforting them. And yet in the physical wordl, Azrael was all that remained behind, waiting for a visitor to arrive.
In front of him, sat a newly poured drink. One Gin and Tonic, as requested by his soon to be visitor, Susan. The place had been swept, the tables cleaned and everything was ready for business the next day. Every glass had been washed, some left out to dry overnight. The stock had been replenished, the money counted. There was nothing left for Azrael to do but wait.
He was patient. As patient as anyone could be. He was old but showed no signs of slowing down. How could he? While his Holy Word still played on the minds of every living being and even on the minds of those he thought should not be, like the undead who were an insult to his position in the Heavens. He knew there were undead in Preya and while it made his skin crawl and caused him actual harm, he had to ignore it.
Every night was a struggle not to hunt them down and put an end to their existence. And each night, going against his very nature chipped away at him and impaired him. If he kept this up much longer he was in danger of becoming a Fallen Archangel... and that thought would not leave him. Dissonance was horrible.
All he could do was smile and pretend everything was fine, just as he had done every single day since he had arrived in Preya.