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Post by Matt Donovan on Mar 30, 2012 1:35:45 GMT 1
The rush of love and strength that poured over Matt as Archer's hand cupped his face lifted him from his cold shock with the warm familiar touch. Matt knew he was being weak and foolish and that there would be no room or time for such things where they needed to go, but wiping away his twin's blood... something inside Matt just couldn't do it. Archer had already removed most of his stained clothing by the time Matt managed a soft gasp and tore his gaze away from Andy's blood to meet his lover's eyes. He blinked away his tears of gratitude for the instant understanding he saw there in Archer's face.
Matt nodded to his love and took a deeper breath. “You are right, I can be strong for him...” he murmured, “...I can.” The last he spoke with a little more certainty. It had frightened Matt how little it had taken to rock his initial resolve. He knew now that he must remember to focus only on the task ahead and on Archer, and not to allow his fear for his twin to become a crippling weakness to their quest. If his gentle brother had become a warrior to defend the humans he had sheltered with then so could Matt, at least for a while, for Andy's sake.
The sudden appearance of another weeping angel then claimed their attention. A muse, Archer had whispered as he squeezed Matt's arm. Matt had not seen a muse in all the time he had been on earth, not since the initial assault that the demons had made on those angels, like Matt, who had been stranded there when the trumpets of heaven had sounded. Such gentle souls could not have fared well in the war across heaven. Matt gazed at the expression on the muse's face, and realised he might as easily be looking into a mirror, for what he saw there was pure love, and the terrible fear of loss.
Matt managed another tiny smile to reassure Archer that he was indeed going to be all-right. He pulled on the fresh clothing he was handed to finally banish the last of the bloodstains from his mind's eye. The soft pouch he had fashioned the previous night and that hung from a cord around his neck over his heart was thankfully unstained and he fastened the clean shirt over it hiding it again from view. Never would the precious contents ever be parted from him. Matt slid his hand back into Archer's to comfort and strengthen them both. He looked down at the kneeling muse and then he too offered the angel his hand.
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Post by trinity on Apr 7, 2012 8:40:38 GMT 1
Aiden felt the blood rush to his pale panicked face and he blushed shyly, here he was holding the hand of the brother of the angel he had loved for as long as he remembered.
His big blue eyes looked up into the blue eyes looking enquiringly down at him. With a face so solemn and and sad he managed to murmur "I am Aiden, gods last muse, the last in all of heaven and earth. Thrown from gods warmth and love to earth because without my inspiration my sorrow was just too much for god to bare. Once Sandalphon left I was a useless angel, where once my musing had provided the lord with amusement then one day when it had all become too sad I was thrown to earth, the wrath of the lord so much so that he claimed he had no need for a useless muse."
Aiden took a deep breath and smiled down at Sandalphon then looked back up at the other two "I never thought I would see him again, and then there he was. I wanted to greet him in Haven, to tell him he wasn't alone but then I am just an angel, a lowly one at that and he a great archangel"
Aiden sighed "If all I can ever do to thank him for his inspiration is to help in saving him, then my existence will be complete".
Wiping the tears from his eyes with his free hand, he squeezed Metradon's hand and stood still holding it.
"I will prove God wrong" he said quietly "I will prove to him, to Sandalphon, to all of heaven that I am not a coward"
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Post by Archer Michaels on Apr 18, 2012 7:32:33 GMT 1
Archer smiled softly and lifted a hand to touch Aiden’s face. “You are not God’s last muse. Many have fallen here, to this desparate place. They bring light and joy to us. You were the last muse in heaven. And it is God’s lost that he no longer has you to show him the beauty of all creation.” He said with much understanding and support. He let his hand drop as black military style outfits were deposited at their feet.
“Ah…let us prepare.” He said in a completely different tone. This tone commanded obedience and respect. This tone said follow me and we shall emerge victorious. All angels knew the voice of Gods highest general and they all knew if they followed his word, they too would be champions. He bent down and began dressing in the clean black linen uniform. “We will need a map of old New York.” He said to any angel that was listening. “Matt, do you remember where the old cathedrals were? I know they are gone now, but if we can find just one relic, we can use it as a portal.” He turned with his shirt still open and placed a hand on his arm to make sure he was alright. He knew he would be, for Andy.
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Post by Matt Donovan on Apr 24, 2012 21:22:39 GMT 1
Matt pressed the palm of his hand to Archer's chest, over his heart and smiled softly once again. “You are my strength, I shall not fail either of you.” He had been about to say he was unsure he would be able to locate the cathedrals in the ruin, he had doubted himself so often after so long an absence from the heavenly presence but his uncertainty melted away at the timbre of Michael's voice, and it filled him once again with such surety and purpose. “I remember...” he murmured, his eyes fluttered closed as he searched his memory as once he had searched the annals of heaven.
He had been Father's Scribe and singularly sat beside him, tasked to record all that passed or would ever come to pass, or so he had thought. In the end God had kept his dark and final secrets to himself. But Matt had visited the earth many times in Father's service. He had been the conduit and bearer of God's Voice and Judgement to the most holy of men. He had witnessed and observed the reliquaries of God's Saints and scribed them into the annals of heaven, and angels were not forgetful creatures, even earthbound ones.
Matt's voice took on a slightly echoing quality as he began to recite from the depths of his memory, “The Reliquaries of St. Tikhon, St. Barnabas, St. George the Great Martyr, St. Mary Magdalene and the Great Martyr Marina all rested in the Orthodox Cathedral of Saint Nicholas, east of the reservoir in central Manhattan.” He opened his eyes again and his smile showed his relief. “There are other places, but that one is the most likely to meet our needs, and I would know the location precisely, whatever has befallen it since.”
He looked again to the sorrowful Muse Aiden. “We are all brothers and sisters Aiden, and there is no lowly or most high in love.” He bent to kiss the shorter angel's forehead. “You will see.”
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Post by trinity on Jun 25, 2012 23:15:43 GMT 1
Aiden felt somehow strengthened by Matt's words, reinforcing his conviction to see Sandalphon well, the kiss on his forehead burning into him the need to to declare his feelings openly to Sandalphon was he was. He was ashamed that he had spent so long slinking around hiding his feeling within the shapes of clouds and the glory of the sunrise.
He knew nothing of the places that or things that why would need to cure Sandalphon, he had never been to earth, had been so wrapped up in creating beautiful things that he had paid little, no actually he had paid no attention to the goings on here. He would know any of those places if he were standing in the middle of them. He did not even know that being an angel he would feel a holy pull towards these locations, these holy relics, he was long a young child lost in the wilderness.
Aiden took a deep breath, more confident and assured than any he had managed since arriving here on earth, and traced a finger down the side of Sandalphon's face. He smiled, his brilliant blue softened with the love he felt, for the first time openly. He lowered his head and kissed the gorgeous man laid out before him on the cheek before turning his head and resting his cheek on the angel's chest, closing his eyes and wishing to god that the quiet heart beating beneath his head would suddenly jump into a strong rhythmic beat.
When he raised his head, he looked at the other two angels, a smile turning up the corners of his lips as he nodded his head declaring "Lets go, lets do this, its time for god's fallen angels to shine once again"
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Post by Archer Michaels on Jul 2, 2012 21:24:52 GMT 1
Archer knew it was time. They had all the supplies and two more volunteers standing in wait. They knew the archangels and could not stand by and let them go into the path of danger without the extra numbers they might need. Now dressed for battle Archer turned to the others. “This is for our fallen brothers whom the demons have taken. We shall not let them take another archangels life. We have lost to many to the demons hands. Sandalphon shall gaze into the eyes of the one who painted the sky the colors of his eyes and know love as I know the love of Metatron.”
He turned and gazed at Aiden for just a moment then took Matt’s hand in with one of his and Aiden’s with the other. “Join hands my brothers. This day, we say “NO MORE” to the demons who strive to take our very existence from this world. Today, we fight to save Sandalphon!” He waited for the angels to all join hands than looked to Matt, “Take us there, for of all of us here, only you have the power to.” He closed his eyes and concentrated on letting Matt take him there. The other two angels did the same.
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Post by Matt Donovan on Jul 5, 2012 21:31:46 GMT 1
Filled to overflowing with a renewed sense of purpose, Metradon took Michael's hand in his, feeling the indomitable strength of the Warrior Archangel flow into their melding. From the Muse Aiden poured a selfless love for Sandalphon and an unshakeable devotion to their quest. The strengths and virtues of the other angels too flowed into him from the joining of their hands. From his own heart he added his deep understanding of human faith and the secret knowledges he had learned at the side of their Father and shared the sum with each of them. With that sharing he forged the circle of angels into a single will, and then he reached out... First there was the place, and in his mind's eye the cathedral stood as strong and proud as the faith that had built it. He could see the Baroque arches now, the five cupolas topped with their golden crosses.... Other times and visions flickered through Metradon's mind as he sought after his goal. 1902 – the dedication by Patriarch Tikhon, 1905 - the ascension as the Diocesan seat, 1925 – the martyrdom of St Tikhon, 2003 – the Centennial rededication. Metradon had been there for each of these and it had filled his soul with holy light to witness it for their heavenly Father. In the very core of him, he knew this place and he could feel the presence of the Reliquary of St. Tikhon still within it. He had it now, the feeling, the holy essence of the place that transcended the physical building, the people or the purpose. He could feel its 'fingerprint' of faith on the human soul and it drew him like a lodestone. “I see it...” Metradon murmured, and drawing on his full strength as he had not in many decades now, he pulled his brothers to him and carried them on wings of faith to their destination. . . . Metradon stumbled a little as they arrived, he had poured a great deal of himself into the translocation and Michael's hand was all that kept him upright in that first moment. Much had happened here as despicable forces had sought to utterly desecrate the ground upon which they now stood. Evil had failed, but it had been a close thing. Gone was the great dome, the golden arches and the painted knaves, the candles and icons of light, but in Metradon's mind they were all still there and he drew certitude from them. Just the memory of this place was enough to bring a small smile to Metradon's lips and he led Michael by the hand up what remained of the great granite steps into the grey-stone heart of the cathedral where once had stood the great semicircular alter. It would have taken a sharp eye to catch any glimpse of the past structure but Metradon wasn't looking at the rubble. “The relics are directly below us. There is a staircase down to the basement in the second vestibule.” and he pointed towards a pile of rubble much like any other. He gazed into Michael's eyes and gently squeezed his hand. The first step in their quest had been taken.
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Post by trinity on Jul 22, 2012 1:20:57 GMT 1
"NO MORE"
Archer's words filled him with strength and he stood up straighter, taller, never more proud to be one of god's angels than at the moment. Archer had a way with words, always had, and now he could inspire the very sun to march backwards across the sky. He had never felt so empowered, so strong, so certain that they would succeed. They would succeed because he loved Sandalphon more than he loved anything, and at that point he would have sworn on a stack of bibles that he loved Sandalphon more than he loved the lord and he would have gone to hell with the knowledge of it than to deny it. He was prepared to give his life for this love, sign over his soul, let the demons burn symbols into his flesh, he would give anything at all just to tell Sandalphon how he felt.
He took hold of two hands, squeezing them tightly, closing his eyes, concentrating on his love and devotion to Sandalphon and the dedication to succeed at all cost to himself. When he opened his eyes they stood before great granite steps, it took a moment to propel himself forward, he felt as though he had been at sea a long time, his equilibrium at turmoil for just a moment.
He took a deep breath and looked up at the ruin, despite the rubble and fallen building he could see in his mind the majesty that this cathedral once was. He followed Metradon and Michael up the steps, his footsteps unfaltering despite the turmoil that this place radiated, the echos of the battle between good and evil still resonating from the crumbled stone.
His skin rose in goosebumps as Metradon proclaimed that the relics were below them. He looked at the ground, knowing full well that he meant underground but unable to resist the urge. There was nothing special about the ground at his feet and he was struck with awe again at the arch angels around him.
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Post by Archer Michaels on Jul 24, 2012 16:33:46 GMT 1
Archer was all business as soon as the words left Matt’s tongue. He squeezed his hand back then gently let go so he could surmise the situation. He looked toward the rubble then walked over to it. He ignored the zombies laying about and the ones sitting up and moving away from the angels. Zombies didn’t like angels and made their best efforts to get away from them or ignored them.
He examined the rubble to see if he could tell how far the cave in was. He was pleased to feel the soft cool breeze coming through the tiny gaps in the crumbled debris. A grin was warranted but the seriousness and the need for expediency dropped it from his lips before he could lift the corners of his mouth. “It is not deep, we can dig it out.” He stated as he began lifting chunks of rubble. The other two angels stepped in to form a fire brigade and take the rubble as he lifted it out and cast it away from the work area.
“Someone keep an eye out for demons and worgans.” It was more of a request than a demand. “We do not need a delay in our progress.” He knew the worgans would be no match for them and the seven princes of hell were in New Vegas. Lesser demons could be dispatched easily enough if they were not caught by surprise.
Archer wished he could break out in song to make the work go faster but they did not need to alarm any creatures that might come investigate so he remained silent. From time to time he glanced over at Aiden and Matt; Aiden to see how he was doing and Matt just to make sure he was still there. He tried to catch his eye so he could mouth the words, “I love you.”
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Post by Matt Donovan on Jul 25, 2012 2:08:48 GMT 1
Matt could not help but admire the fire in Archer's eyes as he turned away to move onward with their mission. Michael was aglow with purpose and to Metradon's eyes it shone from him like a golden nimbus. This was his Michael; nobility, courage, purpose, everything that was good and meaningful and worth fighting for. If Metradon did not already love him almost more than he could contain within his heart then he would now.
He climbed nimbly up onto another heap of rubble, recalling the alabaster images of angelic forms that had in the past adorned the alcoves and stood upon the buried stone plinth upon which he now perched. To be here again in this sacred place pulled at the strings of Metradon's heart. There were many holy places in the world but this one had struck a particular chord within him. It was fitting that he should return here with Michael by his side.
Eyes bright as the dawn he gazed out across the devastated city, observing all things with the clarity of God's voice and witness, missing nothing. Matt did not yet summon his heaven forged weapon, there would be plenty of warning if it were needed and the angels did not wish to draw more attention to their activities here than absolutely necessary.
Matt felt Archer's eyes upon his back like the caress of a sunbeam against his skin and turning to look he had to smile as the joy bubbled up inside of him. “I love you too.” he mouthed silently in return before turning back to his watchful vigil.
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Post by The Narrator on Aug 12, 2012 9:00:38 GMT 1
Matt, Michael and Aiden managed to retrieve the artifact and returned to New Vegas unscathed. The archangel of healing was able to safe Andy's life and he returned to Haven.
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