In the Company of Death [Metatron/Azrael/Invite]

[Metatron]

9:47AM
MARCH 3RD, 2012
METATRON'S STUDY
AKASHIC REPOSITORY
FLOATING ABOVE THE TARPIT ENCLAVES

Atop a tall office building crouched a man cloaked in shadows.  In front of him, the city stretched on vast and voiceless, the sounds of the urban night masking the click as he assembled his rifle.  In most respects it looked like a standard military issue sniper rifle, assembled piece by piece from a nondescript silver briefcase.  That was until he connected a wire from the scope to a small laptop he'd withdrawn from the same container.  The shadowed man's face was suddenly lit by the green-white glow of the laptop, revealing a smooth, young face with a single etched scar cutting from his left temple to the base of his nose.  One eye was covered by what appeared to be a monocle, and he gazed thoughtfully at the screen in front of him.

The output of the scope showed clearly on the screen, the sight fixed on a small (but well appointed) bathroom in an upscale apartment.  A middle aged man, blonde haired and fine featured, slowly walked into the crosshairs, and with a rapid set of keystrokes the the scope began to follow that man.  The cloaked figure at the computer smiled and set a short, black cigarette ablaze, changing the colors highlighting his face as he leaned down and pressed a button marked "fire"……

The comic Metatron had been engrossed by dropped to the floor as his concentration was interrupted by a loud huff and the clomping of boots just outside the small personal library Metatron kept for his private use.  Gabriel, it appeared, was once more on the war path (or at least in a general tizzy) which meant that the past few hours of peace would likely find themselves disrupted very soon.  With a soft sigh he focused and remotely lifted the fallen volume (a particularly interesting sci-fi thriller that followed the exploits of a half-cybernetic assassin from the future) and gently returned it to the empty spot on his shelves.

Apart from the minor vocalization, the angel hadn't moved an inch.  Hadn't moved at all in almost three hours (unless you count his eyes).  One of the benefits of limited psychokinesis was that you could choose to stay still as a statue if needed, which worked wonders when you hoped not to attract certain types of unwanted attention.  Dropping levitated objects on the other hand….

It bothered him that he was so bothered by Gabriel.  In a way it felt wrong to respond so judgmentally to another member of the angelic host.  But that archangel simply had a way of getting under his skin.  Under everyone's, really, if he was being honest.  What made it worse was that there was no critiquing him, no penetrating the facade of stupidity (if it was a facade).  No getting closer to him.  It was a conundrum, but one he wasn't particularly worried about solving.

For the first time in several hours, Metatron moved, walking quickly and confidently out of his private space and down to the receiving hall where he was likely needed.  The room itself was brilliantly appointed.  Towering shelves of celestial volumes filled floor to ceiling, a hundred feet tall.  Carved wood, gilt and glittering, broken only by depictions of angelic glory in stained glass casting a kaleidoscope onto the inlay of the polished marble floor.  It was all very classical, and very much to Metatron's tastes (if he'd have been willing to admit it).  With a flourish he took his seat in the right hand of the three audience chairs at the back of room, a freshly summoned volume appearing from thin air and ready to communicate as needs dictated.  And if the archangel was out of sorts?  He'd be willing to bet *someone* would be in need of his assistance soon, and it was not in his manner to leave those in need waiting for long.

[Azrael]

Fingers traced volume after volume, heels clacking softly against the floor as her wings extended far behind her, the white feathers brushing against the shelves. Images were flashing before her eyes as she stared almost boredly at them all, though the distance in them could not be mistaken for anything else. She was watching as Gabriel would inevitably make a mess yet again, smirking before she giggled to herself, bringing her wings close to her body as she spun around once and plucked a book from the shelf. Yuck. It looked like Physics. With a twist of her mouth she placed it back on the shelf where it had come from and clasped her hands behind her back, skipping along the aisles humming a little tune to herself.

Although she heard a rather loud THUD somewhere in the halls of the great library as it hung above the Tarpit Enclaves far below. Oopsie, had she disturbed Metatron? She knew he had to be around. He always was. "Oh Metatrooooooooon~!" She called, skipping along as she ran like a plane down and hanging a left. She had no idea where he was in here, but she could guess that he wouldn't be too far away at all. Though would he mind her skipping around like this? He generally didn't whenever she came to visit him. Cause at least she put things back unlike Gabriel. And she didn't make a mess. Oh what a poor fool that he was. She wondered how Metatron dealt with it, though she knew how annoyed he got at times. Despite the um… lack of change in expression.

Rounding one last corner, she saw the three audience chairs that were normally set up for visitors such as herself this particular day. Sadly, she never EVER saw them filled whenever she came over to visit which was disappointing in itself. You'd think more angels would actually come and read more things! Knowledge was important people! Now she stood out in the open and grinned to him, pink eyes gleaming brilliantly in the light as her golden hair swirled about her shoulders. "Found you!" She called with a giggle, pointing at him before skipping forward as her wings spread out slightly since there was more space now. She was still being very mindful about knocking things over or rustling pages since she knew what an issue that could be. "How're things in the library today?"

[Metatron]

The receiving hall had been silent, which was never a particularly good sign.  Like the calm before the storm, Metatron had come (in part thanks to the...peculiarities of his superior) to realize that silence often meant stranger tides were coming soon.  It was odd to admit to himself that he had spent a great deal of his time of late afraid and thinking what role he would play in the coming war, but it was the worst in the silence waiting for use.  Certainly there were always the words, the story of the world told continuously and uninterrupted, but the sound of the world echoing in his ears was a comfort that silence interrupted as badly as the sound of Gabriel's footfall...

He'd been on the edge of the angelic equivalent of dozing when he heard the words reverberate.  "Oh Metatrooooooooon~!" the voice called out, and immediately he withdrew from heavier thoughts.  That was a voice that could very quickly bring a smile to his face, the angel he regarded with an echo of an old and very human emotion.  Before she even made her way into the room, he could hear her approach through her own ears and a warm smile spilled onto his face.  It had been too long.

"Found you!" she shouted cheerfully and he couldn't help to perk up overall.  If there was a single member of the angelic host who's presence he truly enjoyed, it was Azrael.  He regarded her with the fondness of an older brother and rose from his seat to embrace her, wings ever so slightly unfolded.  She was being careful, it was written all over her body language, which was something he admired.  She actually cared if she was upsetting the order of this sacred place.  (Something that could certainly not be said about Gabriel...)  "How're things in the library today?"

That wise old smile snuck into a bowing gesture and a sweep of the arm as he gestured broadly at one of the receiving chairs.  Beyond ancient and made very much for comfort, this room was simultaneously one of the most formal and most comfortable in the repository.  Metatron intended for his guest to take advantage of the latter.

He sat regally, upright and proper without feeling formal and rigid.  It was a difficult posture to pull off but he'd worked hard to develop the right sort of casual formality in his very long service.  He draw a new, blank volume out of the ether and brought his response to the page in the blink of an eye, the tome floating in air near enough to allow the angel of death to read clearly.

"Found, and happily so dear Azrael.  The story of the world is as glorious as ever, although the library is oddly quiet.  Did you notice that?  I'd heard Gabriel huffing about earlier, he even interrupted my reading.  But other than your arrival now?  The silence has been uncanny.  Then again I probably notice it more than others!  How about you, peacebringer?  Busy as always?"

Metatron had to stop himself, knowing that there were only so many words a person could read in a short time (even if that person was an angel).  Still, he was excited to catch up.  Celestial gears were turning and he was chatting with the one Angel he felt comfortable around.

[Azrael]

She called it~ She caaaalled it~ She knew that Metatron would be smiling when he saw her (or she certainly hoped so)! It was generally a safe assumption that it would be the case considering the two were truly like mortal siblings. There was that kinship there, an understanding and genuine caring. It was true that she regarded all angels as her brethren, but how close they were to her? That was different. Him, she actually valued closely like she might Akrasiel even though some found Akrasiel difficult to approach given his job and connection to the Father. In any case, now she approached him and wrapped her arms about him in a return hug as her wings extended upwards towards the tall ceiling as opposed to behind. After all, extend too far behind, then you hit a bookcase. And seriously, if there was one thing that she knew Metatron hated, it was mess.

But in any case, the two angels parted with those giant smiles on their faces, the joy of two people that hadn't seen each other in a while. How long HAD it been? She knew it had been at least a couple of decades because she had been working the whole time and monitoring Earth. Then there was the whole plotting for the war with the Demons and… well… free time was a harder thing to come by. As they stepped back, she watched as an empty tome floated up in front of her to show what he was going to be saying, remaining standing because she always stood up. It was just a thing. She sort of liked standing.

"Found, and happily so dear Azrael.  The story of the world is as glorious as ever, although the library is oddly quiet. Quiet? Well that normally was a good thing… unless it was the too quiet thing in which you would expect bad things to happen… and normally that meant Gabriel bursting in and being himself. How in the world had the two of them end up paired together anyway? It SCREAMED bad idea.  "Did you notice that?  I'd heard Gabriel huffing about earlier, he even interrupted my reading. He was? Oops. Azrael must have missed him entirely. Oh well!  "But other than your arrival now?  The silence has been uncanny.  Then again I probably notice it more than others!  How about you, peacebringer?  Busy as always?" Hehe, she did like how he had that pet name for her, even though it always made her wonder. She supposed Death did bring people some peace, but then again that was in a very literal sense of the word. For him? Personally? She knew she was a peace bringer of sorts since she knew she often calmed his mind and whatnot.

"Oh you know, the usual." She answered as she clasped her hands behind her back again and attempted to walk in a very straight line by following the cracks in the floor on a 90 degree angle to him. "So yes." She giggled a little and shrugged, looking up to him as she stopped and turned slightly, "But then again, I haven't been as busy as others that are focused more on the upcoming war. What do you think about it?" She was rather curious because… well… the two of them didn't have as huge a part to play via their current occupations in the events that were to come. Perhaps Metatron did because of him being a records keeper, but she…. she would just be some foot soldier at best. And thats if she was excused or not to continue their actual job of ferrying souls to heaven. After all, just because a war was happening didn't mean that they could slouch off. It was bad form.

[Metatron]

It had been so long since Metatron had real, physical contact with another being.  An odd thing to be reminded of, but when there is a constant real time record of the universe flowing through your mind it's not too difficult to recall the minority of events that transpire in your actual vicinity.  It had been, what?  Decades since the pair had seen one another?  It would be simple enough to pull up the details of their last meeting, but there was something he cherished about real memories instead of written accounts.  Recalling your own experience through the lens of memory made for a very different scenario than recitation of the facts of that moment.

Indeed, that was the major difference between the like of Gabriel and Metatron.  He believed in context and the lens that experience viewed facts through, whereas the archangel seemed to believe solely in the written fact.  In truth he knew Gabriel viewed him as a glorified secretary, but Metatron was well aware that many in the angelic host valued his advice specifically for the scale of context he'd developed over his tenure as Celestial Archivist.

The chain of thoughts was a funny one to pass through his mind as he embraced Azrael, and in the end this meeting retained a context of joy.  Emotion to provide color to the encounter in only the most positive of ways.  For the first time since he'd recorded the words of the fallen one his thoughts turned to positive possibilities and he felt immediately rejuvenated.  "Oh you know, the usual."

Metatron beamed at her.  He did indeed know, and immediately recalled a long conversation they had once had about the nature of souls and their long path beyond the veil of death.  He watched her fastidious movements with a sort of subtle joy.  Ages apart and he still knew exactly the way she moved.  He was glad she would not be on the front lines of the coming storm, even as he was disappointed that he would not be.  It was oxymoronic, but hard to avoid feeling in a situation such as this.  "So yes," she giggled, eyes returning to his, "But then again, I haven't been as busy as others that are focused more on the upcoming war. What do you think about it?"

To him it seemed practically as though she had read his mind.  It was an old habit of hers, and as different as they were they often managed to tread strangely similar mental waters.  His smile didn't falter, but it did turn ever so slightly more serious.  This had been on his mind for weeks, and honestly it was good to have someone good to share it with.

Once more the page of his etherial book turned, offering new words to the angel of death before him.  "To be honest dear Azrael, I have been worried since the first words Michael spoke to the demonic congregation.  There is a part of me that wonders how much of this war is gods and how much is simply Michaels.  There was anger and vengeance in those words, and worse still for the first time in all of the history I have recorded the Celestial Archive has become host to the words of the first among the fallen.  Part of me fears it is a taint to my holy duties.  Yet part of me wishes to be among the warriors of the host."

With this the angel sat down, fearing he had spoke too intensely.  He tried to return the enthusiasm of his earlier smile (and indeed he was still happy to be in Azrael's company) but some of that creeping darkness had fallen on him.  Though perhaps she could help relieve the strain?

[Azrael]

It was a rather huge event. And out of any of the Angelic Host, the one whose opinion she was really curious about was Metatron. After all, Akrasiel would do whatever Father commanded and so that was predictable. In fact, most angels were predictable in their duty, but that was because they were loyal to each other and whatever Father said. She was too, but she realized that her brain often operated a bit differently than all of them. And so now she stared at Metatron with a slight tilt of her head, blinking a couple of times as she stopped in front of him.  "To be honest dear Azrael, I have been worried since the first words Michael spoke to the demonic congregation.  There is a part of me that wonders how much of this war is gods and how much is simply Michaels." Now that was a very valid concern. Her lips twisted into a sort of frown, her hands unclasping from her back as they folded over her chest with one touching her chin thoughtfully. She had read over that transaction and…. it was very concerning. Honestly? Michael was sounding so very human that it made her wonder if other angels would begin falling towards Hell. She wasn't going to ever voice those thoughts, and she would leave them in a pretty little box in the farthest corner of her mind. She knew what sort of offense that would cause.

"There was anger and vengeance in those words, and worse still for the first time in all of the history I have recorded the Celestial Archive has become host to the words of the first among the fallen.  Part of me fears it is a taint to my holy duties.  Yet part of me wishes to be among the warriors of the host." Her pink eyes watched as he settled into his chair again, more like fell was the proper word, a hand brushing one of her golden locks behind her ear as her heels clacked softly on the floor as she approached him now. Leaning forward, she took his hands in her own, offering him a gentle smile. "But you are charged with recording all things. You are not tainted. We just finally have a recording after all these years! Isn't that kind of exciting in its own way?" She posed the question as she straightened up and smiled cheerfully at him while gesturing to all the books around them. "It's important. And, well, it means we know exactly what was said at that important time. For better or for worse." She shrugged lightly and let her hands clasp behind her back again, glancing down towards the floor considering what was below it.

"I agree though, Michael almost seems… possessed by this. I'm surprised Akrasiel doesn't feel threatened since he's Father's wrathful hand. Michael is just Lucifer's replacement." She blinked once and stuck her tongue out with a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of her head, "Heh, don't let him know I said that. He probably isn't happy about it all things considered." Was she even helping Metatron relax? At this point she felt like she was rambling, and yet…. she was always aware of how close to the edge she often trailed with her words. She was always worried that she would overstep her bounds just that slightest bit too much and end up getting cast down as well. But… at the same time, she knew she shouldn't be so worried. They were aware of where her loyalties lay, and they certainly weren't with any demons.

[Metatron]

It had been a period of substantial internal turbulence for Metatron.  Doubt, not in the will and plan of god, but more so in his agents had in small ways cracked the otherwise meticulous outlook he held onto so tightly.  Yet it was astonishing how easy it was to be reminded that there are positives and negatives to all things.  Coming from an angel of death such as Azrael was a useful reminder that even death can be a kindness.  It was a lesson she'd taught him before, through actions and words both remote and in person.  He worried for her like a sister all while deeply admiring her positivity and enthusiasm.

"But you are charged with recording all things. You are not tainted. We just finally have a recording after all these years! Isn't that kind of exciting in its own way?  It's important. And, well, it means we know exactly what was said at that important time. For better or for worse."

Yes, she was a comfort to him.  As her hands grasped his he was instantly reminded of that connection.  That celestial energy that flowed between all of gods creatures.  It was easy to forget that in the long moments when existence was naught but recording the story of the world and avoiding the walking wrecking ball that was Gabriel.  Still here and now he was pulled back into balance, a skill she had mercifully employed countless times over the millennia.

Once more the words flooded from mind to page, sharing his thoughts with his dear friend.  "Absolutely true as always.  There is much to be said about the good of knowledge, even potentially destructive knowledge.  One cannot avoid repeating the past without record of it.  Perhaps it has been more damaging than we know to have silenced Lucifer's voice all this long while.  But only time will show, and until then we can have faith that god's plan will continue to unfold."  The last thing he wanted to show her was any weakness of faith, because that had nothing to do with his current conundrum.  It was entirely a question of how autonomous certain members of the host had become and just how great an absence might have inspired such changes.

"I agree though, Michael almost seems… possessed by this. I'm surprised Akrasiel doesn't feel threatened since he's Father's wrathful hand. Michael is just Lucifer's replacement.  Heh, don't let him know I said that. He probably isn't happy about it all things considered."

Metatron smiled slyly.  He didn't often think about the fact that angels kept secrets, but in truth none of them could keep any from him.  Still, when it came to trust he seemed to have it with many of the host, which pleased him more than he could say.  Although in this case there was a darker edge.  Michael was in fact Lucifer's replacement, and in a way it seemed odd that he should so supplant Akrasiel in leading the revelation of a heavenly war against Inferis.  Indeed if not Akraziel, Gabriel was a more likely choice to share the news than Michael.  It was a thought worth sharing.

"My trust is yours old friend.  Though that does make me think.  Does the choice of messenger not strike you as odd?  It was Michael who made contact with that infernal assembly, not Akrasiel or even Gabriel…not the wrath of our lord, nor his messenger.  In truth, I don't know what these doubts might mean.  But it does give me pause.  Forgive me Azrael."

He had begun to feel tired in a way he had not since he was mortal.  Odd, how personal thoughts could weigh upon a head so full of the thoughts of others.

[Azrael]

Any concerns she had about whether or not she could help calm him were dispelled as she saw his features relax. Excellent. She hated to see him all tense like that because he got tense enough what with recording all of the things that he did. There was enough stress in the world without having to worry about a freakin WAR, among other things! It was a complete waste and drain on energy.  "Absolutely true as always.  There is much to be said about the good of knowledge, even potentially destructive knowledge.  One cannot avoid repeating the past without record of it.  Perhaps it has been more damaging than we know to have silenced Lucifer's voice all this long while. Mmm…. Azrael looked up towards some of the high windows off on the far wall, sighing lightly to herself. You could not have light without darkness. That was a fact of life that she was well acquainted with. Michael was bent on cleansing Hell of its filth… but what would happen if he fully succeeded?  "But only time will show, and until then we can have faith that god's plan will continue to unfold."

Her eyes closed for a moment as she nodded, wings flapping slightly as they readjusted themselves, her body turning to face him again. He was right. That was all they had to do, and she could keep her thoughts to herself. Her expression had relaxed to a more neutral, but warm and kind as always. "My trust is yours old friend.  Though that does make me think.  Does the choice of messenger not strike you as odd?  It was Michael who made contact with that infernal assembly, not Akrasiel or even Gabriel…not the wrath of our lord, nor his messenger." Azrael stared at him, and whatever hint of a smile she had faltered slightly. She did not say anything, but instead only smiled at him sadly, her armor clicking against itself softly. "In truth, I don't know what these doubts might mean.  But it does give me pause.  Forgive me Azrael."

The angel shook her head as her expression did not change, standing there with one of her hands simply resting on the hilt of her sword because it was just at that right height. "There is no need to apologize Metatron. I'm sure there is a reason that this choice was made." If this was not a tactical decision, it may very well be because of a personal request on Michael's part. He had been there when Lucifer had fallen, so he would have the greatest vendetta against him aside from Father. "Despite our importance, we are simply bishops and rooks. Or I guess pawn in my case." She mused that for a moment before shaking her head and smiling once more, "We are small. So we only get told what we need to know. Or well.. you sort of break that a bit since you record everything." She giggled and shrugged, "You know what I mean though."

[Metatron]

As he set his words before her, Metatron noted the change in her face.  The sadness creeping into her smile.  It had not been his intention to bring her with him into this trap of questions and doubt, rather he had only meant to share the worry on his mind.  Wise as he was, it was easy to forget that some are ever so in tune and willing to follow down whatever mental pathway might be led, particularly those of friends and allies.  "There is no need to apologize Metatron." she spoke in response, but he felt the need irrespective.  He could see in her unchanging expression, that sad smile lingering as her hands rested where they often did.

He knew that position, the idle hands and the sad smile.  He'd seen them before, though not terribly often.  It was not his inclination to doubt, even less so his intention to inspire such in others, but the faltering he was watching was reactive to his own.  The camaraderie was comforting, even if it came from a dark place.  Still, it was good to feel understood.  "I'm sure there is a reason that this choice was made."  

Indeed, Metatron was sure there was a reason the choice was made.  The question continued to be just who's reason it was.  He couldn't read her thoughts, but he felt like they strayed just where his did.  Michael was the heart of divine vengeance, it was the purpose gifted to him by his creator.  Did that mean to imply that his decision were intrinsically those of gods?  Or was independent action truly possible?  It was fundamentally a philosophical question, and one that for all his knowledge and insight had no way to resolve.

"Despite our importance, we are simply bishops and rooks. Or I guess pawn in my case.  We are small. So we only get told what we need to know. Or well.. you sort of break that a bit since you record everything."  He watched the smile return to her face, somehow innocent despite her tasks and her age, and he felt somewhat restored.  "You know what I mean though."

That same old warm smile he had cultivated for millennia crept onto his face.  They hadn't resolved anything in any depth, but they weren't going to and knowing that was helpful in figuring out how to proceed.  He replied with his words across the page once more, "If time has taught me anything, it's that even the smallest pieces can play big parts.  And soft voice can carry the weight of powerful words.  Perhaps you could help me with making a choice.  I had thought about speaking to Gabriel on this matter, after all he is the mouthpiece of god.  Perhaps he might be able to set aside his usual airs and be of use in setting this matter aside?"

[Azrael]

They were treading on some very dangerous ground at the moment, and both of them knew it in their bones. Perhaps it was their built in loyalty to the Angelic Host as a whole that was worming that worry into her that was telling her, "Don't go too much further down this path." She had heard it enough times, felt it enough times within her to know better than to push too hard at it. Many others in the host weren't as prone to free thinking as they were, then again the two of their tasks sort of required them to. She had to be closer to humans to understand what it was that she took from them, did to their psyche. Metatron needed to be able to record everything with perfect accuracy. To do anything less was a breaching of his purpose, and that was another thing that they could not break. But right now? The pretty angel stared up at those windows so high on the building face, feeling the warmth of that light that fell upon them. No… They were still bathed in light.

"If time has taught me anything, it's that even the smallest pieces can play big parts.  And soft voice can carry the weight of powerful words.  Perhaps you could help me with making a choice." Her head turned as her pink eyes flashed with curiosity, turning to face him as her brows furrowed. What was on his mind regarding this? They were incapable of certain choices, so what was she going to have to choose? "I had thought about speaking to Gabriel on this matter, after all he is the mouthpiece of god.  Perhaps he might be able to set aside his usual airs and be of use in setting this matter aside?" Azrael blinked a couple of times as she stared at her brother, the knitting of her brows tightening further as her gaze was cast towards the floor. Gabriel? He had to know better than any of them that Gabriel was an idiot and unlikely to be helpful in the least bit.

She giggled a little bit at the thought, "I guess the real question is if he CAN put airs aside or not." She mused aloud, scratching the back of her head as those flowing golden tresses swirled over one shoulder, her boots thudding softly as she strode back over towards Metatron's side and crouched down, her arms hugging her knees as her wings extended out behind her. "I'm surprised you're thinking of asking him at all, you of all people know how scattered brained he is!" Her fist came up and bumped teasingly against his shoulder, gently of course, before wrapping her hand back about her legs. The angel sighed as she stared out at the books, wings flapping twice, "I could be there if you want me to be. You know I don't actually loathe your boss, and I know he stresses you out in all possible ways." She offered with a tilt of her head, resting her cheek on the top of her knee's as she stared up at him with those weird eyes of hers.

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