| Logs |
2001 November 14
| NachtMusik |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: NachtMusik Logs |
"Stand Up and Shout"
The morning wears on. Rei's spent the morning web surfing, filing reports, and otherwise working on her computer. Sax has been sitting in the kitchen stripping his guns and muttering about Zak scumming up his weapons. It's relatively quiet on the Ranch right this morning.
Shateishael mentally reviews to make sure he's not forgotten anything... Drew has been contacted and reassured -- Tomas had seemed quite pleased to pass on the good news that talking to the Seraph Council was for information only, and not inquisitorial. Slate's also puttered around in the Zen rock garden-to-be, laying out and sinking slightly into the ground the large boulders and the handful of flat, heavy sitting stones that will be around the garden in propitious and lovely locations. He's done some reading, found a bit of prose he really likes, and greeted the sun in her daily rounds... only thing left is pass on the prose to the person it reminds him of.
Shateishael searches neatly through one of Nick's desks until he finds nice, quality paper and a good pen set. He smiles, looking at them, remembering Nick insisting that ancient runic scratchings and pictograms were not sufficient any more, and that Slate needed to learn to read English and write legibly. He sits down, using a scratch sheet of paper to warm up his writing hand. Then he carefully calligraphs the bit of prose he liked onto the nice paper.
When Sax comes out later, and Rei's not there, Slate will quietly ask Saxon if he has a moment to talk? "I found something that made me think of you and Rei, and I was going to give it to her... but I didn't want her to feel I was pushing her, so I thought I'd give it to you, and you can give it to her if you want." He hands Sax the calligraphed paper, then waves, "Gotta go; later, guy." He adds with a quiet grin, "Was fun rumbling yesterday. We'll have to do it again sometime, eh?" Then he heads out for the Tether.
Glancing at the piece of paper he's got in his hand, Sax will read:
Love seeketh not Itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care;
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.
-- William Blake
Sax huhs to himself in the empty room. "You're a weird guy, big man." He moves back into the living room. "Hey, Rei!"
- The Council Spires
These towers rise up hugely from the Eternal City, and the offices bustle with hurrying Servitors in preparation for the Council meeting. A pair of large Malakites, grim shadows in the bright halls of the Spires, flank the doors to the audience chamber. They direct Slate and Drew to the audience box, to wait until addressed. The meeting room itself is a large amphitheater; a bright dome with tiers along the sloping walls. A set of slightly raised seats sits at one side of the lowest rung, and opposite that a small box of seats -- evidently the place Drew and Slate are expected to wait. The audience chamber is starting to fill with Seraphim of every color and description; some are decorated with sharp bits of obsidian, others with bright, almost floral patterns. Some look like many-eyed cobras, others like gigantic constrictors.
Shateishael settles where directed, then looks around in fascination -- this is the first time it's been here, and it wants to see everything it can of this august group. It's happy to notice that it is neither the brightest, nor the dullest patterned of those gathered here.
Shateishael: a palpitating, wingéd snake, bright and cirque-couchant. A gordian shape of dazzling hue: vermilion-spotted, golden, green, and blue. Eyed like a peacock and all crimson barr'd; full of silver moons that, as it breathes, dissolve or brighter shine, or interwreathe their lustres -- so rainbow-sided!
Druiel coils up tightly, not the only black serpent in the crowd, but somehow feeling rather like the smallest. Shateishael tilts its head to regard the nervous Druiel, then sings softly (and hopefully somewhat reassuringly) to it of the pride it may justly feel, in a job well done. Shateishael can't help but wonder a little to itself, though, why Druiel's so tense... does the littler Seraph have a guilty conscience or something? Here is a good place for it to get help if so.
Several Cherubim are taking their places to one side of the audience box and setting up a few bits of equipment -- a small tape deck and more than one stenographer's notebook. Druiel nods to Shateishael, "It's not that," he says, as several figures enter the room, "It's that." The Cherubs all sit up. Shateishael raises its head to look over interestedly at what's making Druiel so nervous.
Wearing a bright Southwestern shirt and battered jeans, Michael strides into the audience chamber, taking his seat at the far end of the dais. Behind him is Laurence, looking quite sharp in his elaborate black uniform, his long hair tied back with a bit of ribbon. Druiel sits up reflexively as Laurence enters, nearly snapping to attention. Shateishael politely straightens also, impressed... then looks around hopefully, wondering where David is.
A couple of pages and Relievers flit up and converse quietly with the seated Archangels as more personages enter. Jean enters, wearing a dapper green sweater-vest; he hangs his scarf and overcoat over his chair before seating himself next to Laurence and immediately turning his attention to what appears to be some sort of Palm Pilot. A few moments later Dominic arrives, regal and austere as ever in his voluminous robes. He seats himself at the center of the dais. David arrives not long after, though he does not sit; he stands near Michael's end of the dais.
Shateishael watches in yet more fascination, wondering interestedly why the archangels all chose human forms in Heaven... then brightens and looks pleased, its wings flaring and ruffling slightly, when David arrives. Michael impresses it tremendously... but David commands Shateishael's freely given loyalty.
A few more minutes pass as pages and Relievers flit in and out of the chamber, relaying messages, and the stenographer-Cherubs converse rapidly amongst themselves about such things as volume levels, and does anyone have an extra tablet? Marc arrives next, wearing a blue suit and a bright yellow power tie, smiling and conversing pleasantly in between glances to his PDA, with Novalis, who's chosen a rather strikingly bright, long, floral skirt for the occasion. Behind Novalis is a strangely silent angel who does not smile, but holds in both his hands a large sigil: Blandine's seal. He carries it reverently, standing next to the empty seat at Novalis' side. Novalis herself carries a second seal: that of Jordi, who unsurprisingly could care less about Council or what goes on in Austin.
Shateishael rests its chin on a coil and studies Novalis very curiously, wondering about the archangel that commands both Zara and Rosenstern... and why. Druiel whispers softly, "What's up? You okay?"
Shateishael nods and flashes a grin at Druiel, whispering back, "Yes, but I want to remember all of this... and I was wondering about Flowers and her angels."
Some more angels are filing in, seating themselves in the audience box. Drew tilts his head. "Novalis? What about her?"
Shateishael whispers, "I don't understand how she commands such disparate angels as Zara and Rosenstern... I was wondering if I could figure out why by observation." It adds with soft rue, "Probably not, admittedly... but it surely can't hurt to try."
Drew asks, "What do you mean? You mean like why they follow her?"
Shateishael shakes its head to Druiel with a grin, then whispers, "Later, dude."
Drew shrugs fluidly. "Okay." He goes back to eyeing the various Archangels with something like reserved fascination. A few more angels are filing in, but most of the pages and Relievers seem to have settled inside. Down at the entrance is something resembling a cross between a sphinx and a crow -- a walking animal with human features and great black wings -- flanked by a slim figure all in black with bluewhite wings and a halo like lightning, and a wheel of fire behind. The black-winged Cherub pauses at the door, saluting smartly to the four Archangels of the war faction before making his way to the audience box with a couple of great wing beats, followed quickly by his companions. Shateishael stares in puzzled curiosity, wondering who it is... Saxon and Rei? Who's the Wheel though?
Rei's appearance sets her apart even in Heaven; it doesn't take much to identify her. She catches Jean's eye amid the thinning crowd and mouths something; he gestures to his PDA. She nods and gives him the thumbs-up before winging up to the box with the Wheel. The Cherub, whose face is immediately familiar closer up, grins, seating himself next to Slate. "Hey, big man."
Shateishael grins cheerfully, "Hi! Didn't know you guys were coming too -- I'd have waited for you otherwise." He smiles a greeting to Rei, and wonders if she liked the prose... or if Sax gave it to her.
Sax grins as Rei settles down next to him and furls her wings. "We didn't know we were either, but a friend of ours just came back to town... this here's Merwyn." The Wheel sings softly, "A pleasure. I've heard a lot about you." Rei leans across Sax to hug the Seraph gently. "You," she declares softly, "-are a sweetie."
Shateishael nods politely, studying the Wheel with curiosity, and sings a courteous greeting, adding, "You have? What di- erk...?!" It looks quite startled at getting hugged celestially! A second later it recovers and grins happily, "Oh, good, you liked it?"
Merwyn sings with amusement. "All good things, I promise you. Oh," he says, "-he's here, finally. I think we're starting." Shateishael is listening a bit distractedly as it brushes a wing tip very lightly against Rei's -- then looks up in sudden interest again, wondering who everyone's been waiting on.
Yves has finally arrived. He's wearing old khakis and a rumpled shirt and tie under a tan jacket, and smoking a wrinkled cigarette. He nods softly, speaking to the two Malakites at the door. They nod assent and close the doors, turning to flank it again from the inside. Yves grins to Marc and Novalis, sitting down at the end of the dais, then waves the silent angel next to him to sit down. The angel looks somewhat discomfited, but does so anyway. As Yves crushes out his cigarette, Dominic strikes his gavel at the dais. "The Seraphim Council comes to order." Shateishael studies the archangels in quiet awe... it's never seen them all together before, and many of them it's never seen at all.
The audience chamber quickly quiets. Dominic gets quickly down to business, bringing up first several issues concerning angelic policy in various hot spots over the world. The Council debates these issues for quite some time; the general impression is that the Council errs for the most part on the side of caution, being populated in the main by conservative older Seraphim. However, there does appear to be a contingent of somewhat more liberal, younger angels advocating swifter or more decisive action in places such as Ireland and the Far East. Not all, though, are necessarily young; one of the strongest voices for greater action is a huge old Stone Seraph shaped like a giant boa constrictor. These issues come to vote eventually, the Archangels casting their votes last. As with most political processes, the voices for conservatism win a few, as do the advocates for swift action. Everything, as they say, is a tradeoff.
Shateishael watches in rapt interest, looking back and forth at all the various faces and trying to match names and archangels to them all. Novalis carries Jordi's seal in the Archangels' poll, and the silent angel at her side casts Blandine's when her opinion is called for. Michael generally favors action, though he's an old strategist and knows when to hold his ground. Laurence's votes mirror Michael's for the most part, though David tends to favor conservatism, as do Dominic and, perhaps surprisingly, Novalis. She and Marc bring to the debate several alternatives to open confrontation. Yves for his part seems to vote no particular side, casting his vote according to his own unknown counsel.
During the slower debates, Shateishael occupies itself by mentally re-examining the issues where David and Michael vote differently, curious as to whether it can pick out why. It feels almost breathless at points -- there's so much to see and remember and learn! It is both startled and interested to realize, for example, that Flowers is more conservative than it would have expected... and that Yves doesn't seem to have a 'side' at all.
Jean tends to favor Marc's alternatives, and Michael himself seems somewhat bored when the debate moves to other matters of policy, such as Marc's report on the state of the divine fortune. He sits back with arms folded, paying attention but visibly disinterested. David stands by his side, expressionless and still as stone. Dominic, for his part, is unreadable as always beneath his cowl, though Novalis remains bright and attentive, asking questions and offering alternatives. Jean occasionally jots notes on his PDA, while Yves lights another smoke. The silent angel next to Yves politely shakes his head when offered a smoke.
One thing that strikes Shateishael during the course of the long debates is that Michael never hesitates to speak up, challenging when he perceives something he sees as incorrect, and that David never seems to speak but to offer a deliberate, carefully-constructed argument.
Shateishael takes avid mental notes, unconsciously soaking up the demeanor of the archangels it most admires. It sits still, expressionless and alert, although it can't repress a small quirk of amusement at noticing Michael is bored by finances too... and at Yves casually offering a cigarette to an angel very aware of the dignity and responsibility of its position! It wonders thoughtfully if it talks too much, as it observes. Maybe it should let its actions speak more for it? Next to Shateishael, Sax can't suppress a small yawn. However, even the tough War Angel leans back in startlement at the look one of the stenographers shoots him.
After quite some time, the debates move on to more immediate concerns. "At this time," Dominic begins, "-we will discuss the recent developments in the Truce City. The Council will hear Shateishael, Seraph Vassal of Stone and Silent Angel; and Druiel, Seraph of Children in service to the Sword and Angel of Teenage Death."
Shateishael looks up, then glances uncertainly at Druiel, not sure if the smaller Seraph would like to go first...? Druiel sits up slowly and whispers, "Um... you first, Slate... you outrank me."
Shateishael nods, then turns and floats up a bit, bowing politely first to the archangels, then the assembled Seraph Council. Should it just blurt things out? Uh... no... deliberateness, that's it. "I am Shateishael. What would the Seraph Council like me to relate, please?"
Dominic says, "Would you please relate to the Council a brief summary of your observation of the Truce City?" Yves adds, exhaling a long drag of smoke, "Just what you think of the place in your own words, son."
Shateishael nods politely, thinks a moment, then concisely describes its initial confusion and dismay at the apparent distrust and deception rampant in the city... followed by its now slowly beginning to see the behavior patterns of reputation and reciprocity that order the celestial population there. It adds that it is still learning, and cannot say for sure that what it is seeing is a complete truth... perhaps someone who'd been there longer and was more experienced might be good to speak to also?
Dominic says, "Well put. We will hear the report of Druiel at this time." Shateishael nods again, re-settling... and not quite able to suppress a small surge of both relief -- and pleasure that it'd managed to speak, maybe just a little, like David might have.
Druiel begins to relate his opinions and experiences, very carefully and methodically, so as not to make a fool of himself in front of Laurence. He offers his, "-admittedly subjective, your Grace," opinions of the angels of the Austin clique, and a brief evaluation of the current situation. Shateishael listens in interest, wondering if it's missed anything, and wanting to learn all it can of the city it now resides in. If it's going to work for the benefit of humanity, then the more information the better, after all.
Dominic nods. "Thank you. With the current situation in mind, we would like to discuss the events that led up to the current tension. More specifically, the destruction of a major Tether of Death just outside of Austin. While the Council extends its utmost appreciation to you and to your compatriots in this effort, it remains to be seen how this will affect the face of the War in Austin."
Marc nods. "Specifically, the latest intelligence indicates that Saminga can no longer be expected to honor the Truce."
The Council chamber murmurs quietly at that. Michael remains expressionless, as do David and Laurence, although it can be said that none of the Superiors present seem particularly surprised. Novalis frowns, both at the mention of the Prince of Death and at the news of his cessation of the Truce.
Shateishael takes a slow breath and wonders if this is new or not... weren't there rumors that Saminga's people couldn't keep their hands off the humans? It hopes other demon princes can stop the sickening lord of Death -- otherwise it can't think what would maintain the Truce.
Marc continues, "While it did seem likely that pressure from Hell's war faction might keep him in check, he is ultimately subject to his own vicious caprices. It seems likely we can expect an increase in small incidents both on the human population and from Death's servitors in the future." Shateishael makes a firm mental note to warn its companions to watch their backs!
Marc looks up from his notes to look out at the assembly, "I'm sure that everyone involved in the Austin area will do their utmost to shield the human population... we have great faith in you." He returns to his notes, sitting down again. Michael adds, "War has committed forces to the Austin area to watch over the mortal population, and the Sword...?" He looks to Laurence, who nods. "We've doubled our watch in the city, and committed additional resources to our men in place in law enforcement and civil service. The Sword has plans in place to sweep the Capitol for the rumored Samingan influences that the Prince has been boasting about recently."
Shateishael listens, and makes another note to see if it can have lunch with Trent or something, so the Sword policeman can call on the Seraph if necessary. It sighs a little unhappily, wondering what else can be done... then hms to itself. If that demon Thessaloniki met turns up again... what was her name, it wonders... Marlena? -sounds right -- anyway, maybe she knows more of who the Samingans are. She was doing work for them, after all, apparently. It'll have to mention this to Nick, definitely.
David adds, "My servants have humanity at the fore of their minds at all times. If War requires assistance, my servants are always available." Shateishael quietly nods, its gesture unconsciously echoing David's statement.
Dominic nods. "Judgement is available within the Capitol for assistance and counseling at all times. It remains for the Council to deliberate on how to address the changing face of the Truce."
Shateishael glances thoughtfully sideways past one of its wings with a few eyes, and wonders if the rather grim-seeming angels of Judgement might actually be able to help poor Druiel. It wouldn't ordinarily think so, but it certainly wouldn't prevent the smaller seraph from going to them if that'd help it.
The various Seraphim offer their voices to the debate, including the spry old Stone Seraph who, despite his call for action earlier, gives a brief but eloquent argument for honoring the Truce. Like all Stone Angels, he too has been instructed to have faith until no choice at all remains.
Shateishael rests its chin on a coil again, listening carefully. Its initial assessment is to fight hard to keep the Truce... but it wants to be sure it's not missed anything important. If it's going to make thoughtful, considered decisions, it needs all the data and viewpoints it can hear here.
Novalis holds out her hand after several arguments have been heard. "Just a moment, Most Holy." The Council quiets for her. She turns to the two Seraphim in the audience box. "You've been in the City personally, guys, and it's your home to live in... you've got to go back after this meeting is over. So you tell us; what do you guys think?"
Shateishael straightens up hastily from its more relaxed observation pose, not wanting to appear inattentive. It thinks a moment, not sure how to phrase the feelings it currently has... then finally says simply, "Lady, I believe in the Truce."
Michael sits up slowly, unfolding his arms and eyeing the Seraph appraisingly. Finally he says, "Can you defend your beliefs, boy?"
Shateishael takes a deep breath, its wings unwittingly ruffling a bit nervously, then nods, "Yes, sir, I believe so. In the Truce City celestials live side by side in relative calm. There is no other place I know of where this occurs -- where diabolicals can see for themselves angels are not the mad, ravening beasts the Media likes to portray. What better temptation to Redemption... than the Truth? And where demons Redeem, or at the very least find some sort of peace and happiness... will not benefit to humanity surely follow close behind?"
Novalis actually smiles, and it almost lights up the room. Michael, however, asks, "And you think making friends is gonna solve our problems? Never thought I'd head that from a Stone Angel."
Shateishael floats tall and straight, its gaze unflinching on Michael's very pale blue eyes -- how can they be that icy blue, clear across the room? it wonders... and tries hard to look a responsible, dependable, and competent Stone angel. Thank goodness butterflies in the stomach don't show... It says with firm pride, "I am a Seraph of Stone, sir. Making friends with demons is for those better trained to do so -- I am there to protect against the irredeemable. But I would be wrong to screw up the work my community was trying to accomplish."
Shateishael wonders a little bemusedly what Novalis was smiling at -- then hastily chastises itself mentally -- focus! Wandering mentally would not be smart around Michael -- and it doesn't want its Superior to look bad at all, even if only by reflection of its actions.
Michael is silent for a long moment. Then he nods, "Now that makes a little more sense." He grins a little, then glances at David, who nods softly, and over at Novalis. Seeing she has nothing to add, he settles back, folding his arms again. "Well, all right," he says. Novalis smiles again. "Well said. Is there anything you'd like to add, Druiel?" Drew shakes his head, saying only, "Austin is my home, Archangel, and I'm a Sword. I'll fight if I have to, but until I receive other orders I think right now I'm serving humanity better this way." Dominic nods. "Very well then. The Council will come to a vote."
Saxon claps the Seraph approximately where a shoulder would normally be. "Did good, big man," he grins quietly.
The Wheel sings agreement. "Very well said."
Shateishael sighs internally in deep relief at Michael's words and David's quiet nod -- and, unsurprisingly, at that rather creepily intense regard being turned elsewhere! -- then almost falls over in startlement at Saxon's cheerful shoulder slap. It almost bites its bifurcate tongue in an effort not to laugh aloud at the release of tension when everyone turns their attention elsewhere... and just grins a little tightly at the Cherub.
The Council comes to a vote quickly. The decision is unanimously in favor of maintaining the Truce, and Dominic raps his gavel again. "This matter is resolved. This completes the agenda for this session; the Council will hear questions from the assembly at this time. The floor is opened." A few of the Seraphim assembled pose questions regarding policy, or ask for projections concerning upcoming operations of the Host.
Saxon leans over to whisper quietly. "Don't sweat it, big man, Michael does that to everyone. He's like that. He's got to challenge people. You stood up real well."
Shateishael sighs in quiet relief, surreptitiously settling back in its seat. Good thing it wasn't in human form... it would have been sweating bullets at the very least! It grins at Sax, whispering back amusedly, "Knowing he does that because I've seen it happen to others... is nothing like experiencing it!"
Sax grins, "Nah, you worry too much. Look at it this way; if you'd lost the argument, he'd have damn sure let you know it."
Shateishael tilts its head, thoughtfully regarding the big old Seraph Archangel of War... then grins at Saxon and just nods once. It's not sure it won, so much as... sort of got a temporary respite from Michael's piercing stare, for making sense. Dryly it makes a mental note to always think things out around Archangels before opening its mouth!
After a few more minutes, Dominic declares the session adjourned and the doors are again opened. The stenographers immediately begin comparing and collating notes, sending a few Relievers to verify statements, and packing up the recording gear. The Archangels themselves are beginning to get ready to leave, gathering notes and otherwise preparing to go. Jean is having a conversation with Marc as he puts on his overcoat and scarf, and Michael and David are conversing quietly among themselves. Laurence is hovering nearby, listening, paying particular attention to the massive Archangel of Stone at the moment. Novalis is polishing her big purple-tinted spectacles on the corners of her blouse, and Yves is talking unhurriedly to the silent angel that holds Blandine's sigil; the silent angel is nodding attentively but still looking distinctly uncomfortable.
Shateishael smiles and sighs again, still relieved as it looks around one last time, then turns and properly introduces Druiel to the others, since it's not sure if they've already met. It is curious about the new Wheel, but doesn't press... hopefully they can talk some later. Drew nods softly at the introductions, and it turns out he already knows the threesome -- Merwyn, as it turns out, is a Sword also, but has been away for quite some time on a quest.
Some angels are walking up and speaking briefly speaking to various Archangels; if anyone has questions or comments, now seems to be the time to pose them to the Superiors. Shateishael glances with a few eyes over its shoulder, momentarily curious as to what David is saying to Michael that's so interesting to Laurence... but then resolutely realizes it doesn't really have any business up there pestering its Superior without reason.
Novalis looks up, blinking as she replaces her spectacles, and then smiles brightly at the Seraph as she steps down from the dais, moving toward the audience box. Shateishael smiles a little uncertainly, then looks around to see who behind it the Lady of Flowers was smiling at... no one? -then who... uh-oh! It looks back around a bit nervously -- is she still headed this way?!
The Archangel of Flowers is quite beautiful, but not threateningly so; she carries with her a sense of peace and belonging. She moves at her own pace, making her leisurely way to the edge of the audience box. She leans on her elbows on the railing. "Hey," she says, grinning, "Tell me your name?"
Shateishael bows as she approaches. It ends up leaning back a little nervously at how close Novalis is, frantically trying to figure out how to deal with a non-warrior, female superior... "Uh... I'm Shateishael, Lady of Flowers." It feels around a little surreptitiously with its tail, wondering if it can gracefully back up a bit.
Novalis nods. "Well, Shateishael, I think you accounted for yourself really well. It's not easy for everyone to stand up to Michael like that. And it's not often that he lets you off the hook so quickly; you must have impressed him."
Shateishael stares for a moment in surprise... then gives a courteous nod and straightens slightly, relaxing. It smiles more naturally, "You think so? Thank you, Lady. From an archangel that's quite a compliment." It will (somewhat nervously) remember later how effortlessly she put it at ease... for now it's just pleased to be thought well of and to be a good reflection of David's training... and interestedly observing up close the (to it) strange and enigmatic Novalis.
Rei gracefully detaches herself, nodding politely to the Archangel, before winging over to catch Jean on his way out. Merwyn is making his way toward Laurence, with Sax and Drew in tow. Novalis nods, "Well, I know Stone's got a reputation for being blunt and crude... but you spoke your mind well. And it's good to see someone arguing peace for once."
Shateishael's wings bristle slightly, its chin going up a bit in pride. It says firmly, "There is a difference, Lady, between the bluntness of Truth... and crudeness." It pauses, then remembers who it's talking to, and adds embarrassedly, "Ah... which I'm sure you already know quite well, excuse me..."
Novalis just smiles. "I said a reputation, Shateishael... and you know better than anyone how to separate Truth from perception. Am I right?"
Shateishael opens its mouth to reply immediately in the affirmative... then pauses in faint startlement, realizing it had just been about to blurt out an unconsidered reply to the ever-so-non-threatening-seeming Archangel, She's good! It thinks carefully before replying, then says slowly, "I would like to think so, Lady... although I am still learning."
Novalis grins. "We're all still learning, Shateishael. Just some faster than others." She pats the serpent's cheek gently before turning to go. "Take care of yourself out there now."
Shateishael's wings flick a little nervously -- is it it, or are people really touchy today?! -- then sings quietly and politely, "Thank you, Archangel." It silently watches Novalis leave, wondering deeply inside... what a strange person... and yet... it can vaguely sense why angels would be protective of and to her. How amazingly patient she must be... Shateishael's reverie is interrupted by a deep basso profundo; David calls his name. He's standing by himself, Michael and Laurence having detached themselves to speak to their own Servitors. David gestures the Seraph over.
Shateishael starts slightly, swiveling its upper torso to look for who is calling... then nods and flies swiftly over. It bows politely, then straightens, taking a deep breath and grinning. It's still deeply pleased inside at that small, quiet nod David gave Michael about it. David says, "You gave a good accounting of yourself, Truthsayer. And I find it interesting that Novalis showed an interest in you. You continue to be one of my most... interesting creations, Shateishael."
Shateishael unwittingly drifts up a few feet in pleasure, almost glowing with pride, "Thank you, Architect!" It pauses, considering, then glances over its shoulder at the departing Novalis, and adds more quietly, "That... was odd, yes..." It looks back at David and says very softly, "I... don't understand her, sir... um... do you?"
David continues, "However... I would remind you that while Novalis cast her vote with us in this matter, her motivations are entirely different from our own, and while in the past her ideals made sense, and indeed in the distant future may yet again... they are not relevant here and now; do you understand?"
Shateishael nods firmly -- it's not shaky at all on that point! David says, "I see that you do. Good. While it is perfectly well and good to foster consensus, I will not allow any of my servitors to falter in their ideals."
Shateishael looks faintly shocked that David would even consider that, then simply nods firmly again, its wings flaring out in silent emphasis. It wonders if that is David's oblique way of saying he doesn't understand the strange Lady either. Well, that's an answer... and a nice, clear path for me, it thinks.
David says, "You spoke well in Council today, Truthsayer. And you defended yourself against my brother Michael... also admirable."
Shateishael grins delightedly in spite of itself, tail coiling and re-knotting happily, then pulls itself together and says with an utter sincerity that only a Seraph could make at all believable, "I had to, sir. I... won't let my inexperience reflect poorly on you."
David grins a little. "As I've told you before, I have faith in your judgement. You have not disappointed me. See that you give a report to Mitrah when you return." With that, he turns to go.
Shateishael beams with pleasure but simply nods once, bowing and waiting until his Superior's departed. Then it looks around happily, still feeling very up and wanting to share with someone. It suspects doing a few gleeful flips in here would be inappropriate... but maybe someplace discreetly outside, with a friend to keep watch for passers-by...?
Rei finishes her brief discussion with the ever-busy Jean and returns, pausing near Shateishael as Sax and Merwyn are still in conversation with Laurence and Michael. The Bright grins, "Well, aren't we popular today? You're just getting all kinds of good press. And a promotion. It's been a good week for you."
Shateishael grins happily at Rei, feeling a bit wordless at all the amazing things that have happened. It can't think of anything clever or witty to say... so it just grins more happily, its tail still coiling excitedly back and forth. "Yeah, I... sure didn't expect anything like this -- thanks!"
Rei grins, "For what? I didn't do anything. You're the one getting all the praise... so, what're you gonna do now?"
Shateishael says, "What, um... what are you here for? Uh, no, I mean... uh, I really have no idea what um..." It flounders to a stop, then laughs and says a little sheepishly, "I'm sorry, Rei... I'm a little flustered right now, and I think I'm not making sense." It shakes its head slowly, glancing after the departed David, then looks back at Rei, its eyes shining, "I... I don't know what to think!" Its wings flip excitedly a bit, "David actually said I was admirable!" It can't help itself -- it weaves a small, gleeful figure eight around the Bright. It settles back down a moment later, with a small cough, "'Scuse me," and grins again.
Rei snickers softly. "Relax, guy. You should calm down. I'm here to see Merwyn. He got an honor of his own from Laurence today. We go back, him and Sax and I, and we haven't seen each other in almost thirty years. He's been off on a quest since the Seventies."
Shateishael nods cheerfully, "That's great, Rei! I bet it's nice to see him again then... I'll have to congratulate him later." It takes a few slow, deep breaths, centering itself... then gets a sudden, puzzling thought, "Um... Rei? An angel with a Word outranks one without, right?"
Rei says, "Well, sorta. A Word commands a lot of respect, after all... but if you're talking like hard rank, then most folks go by Distinction. Why do you ask?"
Shateishael laughs softly, then grins over at Druiel, busy across the room. It looks back at Rei, "I was wondering why Druiel asked me to go first, that's all. Said I outranked him... but he has a Word." It adds dryly, "Can't say I blame him for not wanting to go first..."
Rei grins. "Well, technically you do. I mean, you guys probably command about the same level of respect," then she drops her voice a little, "Well, I'd say you command way more than him, the way you keep racking up praise... but you're a Vassal and he isn't."
Shateishael smiles quietly, "Thank you, Rei... although I don't envy him the position he has." It glances behind it with a few eyes, through its camouflaging feathers, whispering puzzledly, "I... was thinking about things during the slow parts of the Council. It hit me that they must know the Truth... what he's doing on Earth -- and yet they still gave him that Word?! There must be something they're waiting for, some growing or mental leap or something, in him. I'd think that'd be terribly hard for him... in that respect, in comparison, I have it easy. David gives clear, straightforward tests, and if I'm doing something wrong he tells me right away."
Rei nods softly, and looks over at the lean, dark Archangel of the Sword. "Well," she whispers, "-who knows what he's thinking, y'know? Maybe he's still waiting."
Shateishael nods slowly, also regarding Laurence with a few eyes while whispering, "For Druiel's sake, I sure hope so. I hope he has the patience of David." It grins happily then, noticing the lean, hard, weather-beaten Michael is being attentively listened to -- and still pleased that it apparently spoke well to that scary old Seraph... then grins amusedly at itself. It's going to be careful for a few days that it doesn't just spontaneously burst into song, out of sheer exuberance! It deliberately changes the subject, "So... what's Jean like?" It pauses then at a sudden thought, and hastily whispers, "Hey, wait! So... have you actually spent any time around Laurence?"
Rei grins. "Jean's an Elohite. And a busy one. He's an engineer, y'know? Always got something he needs to be doing... and it's tough for him to delegate. He'd always rather be doing it himself... but he's got enough people he trusts," she grins, adding with not a little immodesty, "-like myself, to help lighten the load for him. He's always taken care of me, too... right from the start, he's looked out for me." She smiles. "So I try my best to look out for his projects... since he doesn't need looking after himself."
Shateishael regards the Bright a bit puzzledly... then nods and smiles, understanding what she's saying about her Superior, "Trust is good, yes." It adds a little sheepishly, "Sorry about the explosion messing some of those up..."
Rei grins. "Forget it, Slate. That's why I'm here." Shateishael nods quietly... then looks at her hopefully -- maybe she'll answer his other question too.
Rei smirks and shakes her head. "Laurence tries to get every Bright under his command... and if he can't do that he tries to get her assigned to someone that'll, uh, 'loan' her to him. The Council usually knows better, though... and I got assigned to Jean because of my technical skills. But, um, for about a week when I first got here, I sort of just followed him around, sighing."
Shateishael looks curious and confused for a moment... and then it rears up in startlement as it stares at the Bright. Its head swivels abruptly to stare at the Sword in astonishment -- and then swivels back just as abruptly to stare at Rei. She adds, "Don't look at me like that. I got better!"
Shateishael almost bites its tongue again in its efforts to not laugh! It doesn't trust itself to speak for a few seconds -- just shakes its head firmly at the Bright, grinning. Rei frowns. "Hey, he's good-looking and I was not in control of my emotions. Hmph."
Shateishael takes a deep breath, its many eyes still dancing, and gets itself back under control, "Ah... really?" Its voice is almost artfully casual... and then it stuffs a wing in its mouth to cover the laugh Rei's words create! It grins at Rei over the wing, then sort of nods its head towards the door inquiringly? It thinks it's going to just burst if it doesn't get a chance to get out in the open and laugh and sing and fly a bit!
Rei folds her arms. "Hey, I don't laugh at your shortcomings, Gunther. C'mon, let's go; we'll collect Sax and Merwyn outside."
Shateishael has the grace to look abashed, and flies decorously out after the Bright. Once outside, however, it soars up with effortless grace, its happiness buoying it up. It cheerfully spits out a feather, then dances up into the sky, laughing joyously, for several much-needed moments.
Shateishael finally dives back down, spiraling and glittering in the light, and comes up, wings flaring brightly as it smiles at Rei. Rei says, "See? Am I laughing at you? No, of course not. I should be, but I'm not." She smirks, "But I can't speak for those guys." She jerks her thumb over at a few Seraphs making their way out of the Spires, among them the huge old Seraph of Stone from the earlier debate. They all sort of blink at Shateishael's antics, then shrug mutually and continue on their way.
Shateishael grins a little sheepishly at being noticed, then straightens up and firmly just is... okay, so it's a little light-hearted at the moment. It's sure they've had their moments too! It says coaxingly, "Wasn't really laughing at you, pretty Rei. Don't be mad, c'mon... it was just... everything at once, it was all... just nice, you know what I mean?" It thinks a moment, then grins and touches her lightly with a wing tip, "Fly a bit? Feel better?"
Rei sighs a little and grins. "Okay, sure. C'mon, let's go, we'll swing out past the Halls of Progress; there's a big long straightaway out that direction." Shateishael grins cheerfully and leaps back up into the air, spiraling in iridescent streaks of light around the Bright and anything else in the air at that moment, and singing joyously to itself -- and to Rei, if she doesn't mind -- a song of happiness and Truth to one's nature and sheer pleasure at existence.
Shateishael just whirls in airy ecstasy for several moments, until the inner pressure of joy that had been building up is finally relieved. It ends up dancing elatedly about Rei and through the sky in complicated, jewel-colored patterns of light and beauty; a reverence both to its Makers and a gleeful statement of its enjoyment of life itself. Finally it wings back down to her, panting slightly, and sings thanks to her for her patience. It drifts along contentedly next to her, thinking for a bit, then finally says slowly, "What's Laurence like? Is asking him questions a bad idea, or is he a good teacher, or really patient, or what?"
Rei glides along gracefully and mulls the question over a little, looking down at the passing ground with folded arms. "Well," she muses, "-he's very... um, he's very much into protocol. Some folks would say he's let his office go to his head... but you didn't hear that from me. From everything I've heard, he expects his soldiers to be perfect; shining examples of knightly virtue and all that rap. Merwyn's an Ofanite, though, and his kind are expected to be forward observers, snipers, that kind of thing... he's got a pretty solitary post. But Laurence loves to preside over giving out honors... it pleases him to see his angels do well, and he loves to see a successful quest."
Shateishael thinks about that for a while, then nods, "Okay, then maybe my guess about Druiel's Word has some grounding..." It pauses, then whispers softly, "So... questioning him about something sounds like a bad idea. Do you think he'd explain something, though, to someone that genuinely wanted to understand? -or would he be more likely to take that as infringing on his prerogatives?"
Rei says, "Guess it depends on who's asking."
Shateishael keeps its eyes swiveling around, observing to be sure no one slips up on the conversation... it nods quietly, "It'd have to be through the proper chain of command, I'd guess." It sighs softly, adding, "I wish... I understood what he was trying to get or teach Druiel and the Old Guy though. I'd gladly help if I had any clue how... as it is, all I can think of to do is spend time with both of them, and be a friend."
Rei says, "I don't think he's trying to teach the Old Guy anything. The Old Guy's manning his post, like a good old soldier... it's not his fault a city grew up around his post and some nut-bar poured weedkiller on him."
Shateishael says, "Yeah, but... but he's so wasted there -- almost forgotten sometimes, I think -- he wants to do more, to do good so badly!" It frowns slightly, wishing it knew how to ask, or how to be given permission to stand next to David while he asked... then sighs and shakes its head. It can't imagine how that would happen -- so... it won't worry about it. Instead it turns to grin a little shyly at the Bright, "Glad you and Sax liked the poetry."
Rei smiles. "You're sweet, for a Stone Angel."
Shateishael laughs! -then grins, bulking out its feathers deliberately, like a human male flexing, "Yeah, well, you know how us Stone angels are -- blunt and crude!" It grins again at her, teasing gently.
The Bright smiles and shakes her head. "You're really weird, Slate."
Shateishael laughs again, then cheerfully says, "Hey, we should head back, before my reputation is destroyed..." It sighs with blatant melodrama, "They'll think yet another innocent little Seraph has been dragged off by the tail, writhing and screaming, by one of those scary Brights!" Rei catches a flash of a mischievous, bright-eyed grin through the feathers -- and then Shateishael hastily dives back towards the Council building before she pokes him a good one, its laughter trailing behind it. Rei pulls a surprisingly tight Immelman turn and follows after, snickering softly.
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