Re: [misha & jude: the capital]
[Misha reckoned Jude would ask. Jude was an asker. He always asked. The only exception to Jude's asking, near as Misha could tell, was when he already knew the answer and didn't want it any. It was like that with Oliver, but Oliver was the furthest damn thing from Misha's mind at present. Point is, he knew Jude would ask.]
They're everywhere, waiting. [The angels, they had all been garbed dark, and their wings had been shades of soot and brown. They were death angels, and Misha wasn't real sure that he should explain that. He wasn't sure how folks would feel knowing that something was always waiting on them to die. They weren't meant to see that, though Misha had never understood that. Wasn't it soothing, knowing something was coming for you and that nothing would hurt? But, Misha, he thought death was real beautiful, and there were only a few exceptions he could think on.]
You weren't supposed to see that. You can't go telling everyone. It'll draw attention, and there's already too much attention drawn to knowing folks ain't meant to have in Repose. Do you understand me some? It ain't bad. They ain't bad. They're all religions and none, and they ain't bad. [Misha, he wasn't real sure why that was his big concern, the fact that Jude might walk away thinking this was a bad thing he'd seen.
He sat himself heavily on one of the steps leading up the museum.] My head ain't been real right lately. It's my fault. [Somehow, and that concerned Misha. He didn't want anyone thinking he was a liability and real uncontrolled.] It's just something that's real, like Daniel being what he is. That's all. [He rested his wrists 'gainst knees, his feet propped up on the step 'neath him.] I could make you forget, if you're inclined.