NachtMusik -- Logs

The small group of angels reunites after having run their respective errands in Heaven. With nothing left to do in the Eternal City, talk of heading back to Earth arises. Saxon, however, impresses upon the group to remain a few hours more, saying only, "I got something to show you guys. Trust me, you'll love this." Merwyn, the Ofanite, seems to have an inkling of what the War Angel has in mind and laughingly backs up Sax in this. A few hours pass, and Sax has led the group past the outskirts of the Groves and deeper into the forest. The sun does indeed set in Heaven, and it's grown quite dark. Sax pauses at irregular intervals and signs into the shadow or speaks a phrase; signs for sentries in the Groves.

Thessaloniki casually rolls around the outside edges of the group, casting strange, flickering, moving shadows. While it seems perfectly content to linger in Heaven for a while longer, standing still isn't in its make up. Taygeta looks around with interest, as this is a part of Heaven that only the War angels normally see. Shateishael floats along easily after the Cherub of War and the Sword Wheel, occasionally roiling around its Eliite friend as Thessaloniki moves by. The Seraph's long tail coils and uncoils with interest, below the flaring wings, as it looks around and wonders what Sax is up to.

Rosenstern glances around, his wings fluttering slightly, the shining countenance and halo dimmed only a little. He's only a little nervous -- but nervous all the same. He's been to the Groves before, of course, usually on his way to Novalis' Glade, and he knows that the Catacombs are below, but that's David's realm, and Novalites tend not to go there. This part, however, he's never been to. Considering it's Sax showing them the way, Rosie guesses that this is War's domain -- another place that Novalites tend not to go to. He's not nervous for his personal safety; this is Heaven after all, and Sax is showing them forward. He's just somewhat dreading running into any other War angels; derision is reasonably uncomfortable, no matter what side is doing it. Curiosity gets the better of him, though, and though he holds his robes closer around him in imitation of a corporeal habit, he's still looking around curiously.

The huge close-set trunks of the trees are beginning to space out, and there's light up ahead, and the sound of voices. Sax grins. "We're just about there."

Shateishael smiles, guessing where Sahazaquiel is leading them to. Rosenstern opens his mouth... then closes it, wryly rebuking himself. He's just not going to ask to spoil Sax's surprise. Something goes rustling past the group of angels; small, dark shapes shooting ahead toward the light through the tall grass. Taygeta pauses as the shapes flit past. "That's strange. What are those things? They look like human children."

Shateishael looks around, missing seeing the children, but remembering the same draw it's guessing they are feeling. It smiles, "Probably are, Taygeta. C'mon... we don't want to be late."

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!

Rosenstern blinks, looking to Taygeta, then to where the dark shapes went. "Are you sure they weren't Relievers?" he asks, fretting slightly.

Taygeta says, "They didn't look like it to me." He speeds up again, drifting faster through the thinning trees. "Most curious..."

Sax smiles a little. "Yeah... they're souls. Kids. They sneak in the back way 'cause some angels don't like 'em hanging around the Warband. The sentries let them past because they never do any harm." The big Cherub laughs quietly. "The older ones ask to learn the pass phrases so they can feel official when they're sneaking in their friends. They can't speak Celestial so we usually make up something for them."

Taygeta chuckles. "Why shouldn't they hang out with the Warband? Lots of action-packed stories here, I'm sure. Kids are the same everywhere... curious and eager. Gotta love 'em." Shateishael grins, its wings flaring out happily.

Rosenstern fidgets only a little bit; he can see where a lot of the peace-faction angels wouldn't want children hearing all the glory of war and little of the sorrow. But, he reasons, surely the Warband both celebrates its victories as well as mourns its lost. In that light, he can't see why to stop them, though... well, it does make him a little twitchy. But only a little. Has it really been that long since I've worked with the blessed souls here? he thinks, another dark shape flitting past. Maybe. Long enough to forget that even in Heaven, children'll go wherever they want, rules or not!

The light grows brighter, and can be identified as a motley of lights hung in the lowest branches as the group gets closer; Chinese lanterns, old oil lamps, modern camp lanterns, even an old style gaslight standing up curiously all by itself on a dark iron pole. The sound of talking and laughter grows louder, and finally Sax leads the group into the clearing. "Here we are," he says, "Welcome to the Feasting Tables."

The area is a large clearing in the deep Groves, hung with lights and torches, and dominated by a set of huge long tables set with every kind of food and drink imaginable. The area is thronged with angels of all Choirs... and humans as well, it seems. Old soldiers, wearing old uniforms or rumpled fatigues, even one grandfatherly-looking old man wearing what appears to be the peaked cap of the American VFW. The angels are a diverse group as well; primarily the tough members of War's faction, but there are a few Stone and Sword angels here as well -- even one Mercurian with bizarrely colored hair and eyes -- a Creationer, at first guess. The souls of small children are gathering nearest to the head of one of the tables; a large and impressively handsome angel is standing there with a large mug in one hand, nodding and chatting pleasantly with the small throng.

Shateishael grins, straightening out its usually constantly writhing coils for a moment, and spreading its multiple wings widely in colorful greeting and salute to those present that might happen to look up at the new arrivals. It looks around in cheerful interest -- one never knows who'll turn up here! It whispers to Thessaloniki, "Ooh, Glory's here -- the angel at the head of the table there, see? There should be wonderful stories tonight!"

Thessaloniki murmurs back to Shateishael, "My, my," and continues its looking around, curious, wheeling along, listening to the stories of the heroes here.

Taygeta grins, quite a sight with the number of mouths that drift through his formless form. "So this is where it is. No wonder the kids want to sneak up here."

Rosenstern almost, but not quite, stops short. The Feasting Tables? Would it really be heresy to compare them to the halls of Valhalla, despite it being part of Germanic faith centuries before he was first sent to Earth? But he's heard stories of this part of the Grove. His nervousness, if anything, is not mitigated. It's a party, it's what Mercurians are attracted to... but this particular type doesn't really attract Mercurians in service to Novalis. He doesn't think anyone would object overly stringently to an Intercessionist of Flowers -- Flowers! -- here with Sax. At least he hopes so.

Oh, relax, Rosie! he thinks to himself. We're all angels here; there's not going to be any problems! If anything, you're here with Sax, and that'll make things all right. Relax and enjoy it, as if it were that nice beer-hall in Dresden back in '07. He does, however, remain close with the group.

Some of the angels closest to that side of the clearing recognize Sax and Merwyn and greet them loudly, waving the party over, motioning them to the table. Nick isn't given more than a second look; Creationers are welcome here, after all, and War tells a good story. Rei and Taygeta aren't hassled either, Lightning and War being on decent terms. Rosenstern, on the other hand, gets quite a few odd looks.

Shateishael looks about hopefully, wondering if any of its mortal compatriots are present tonight. Taygeta looks around at the storytellers and the avid listeners -- he's never seen the Tables before, but he can easily tell why it would be the preferred part of Heaven for human warriors. He chuckles at Rosenstern's nervousness. "Don't worry about a thing. Tell them about Vincent if they wonder why you're here."

Shateishael flicks the end of its tail around one of Rosenstern's wrists, and puts a big, sturdy wing around the Mercurian's shoulders, "Truth, Rosenstern... Taygeta's right, and besides, Sahazaquiel brought you. C'mon... you have what you need to be here." It grins, following after the War Cherub.

Rosenstern swallows -- another human habit, but he finds he does that often enough since his celestial form mirrors that of his corporeal -- nervously at the odd looks. Is it that obvious I'm in service to Novalis? he wonders, then sighs silently. Silly... you've a garlanded halo, Rosie. Who else could you possibly be in service to? He glances to Taygeta, and lets out a soft breath. "Well, true. If it comes to telling a tale, of all the tales I have I'm afraid that's the only one that would have a place being told here, but that was a tale of all of us -- erp?" This last as Slate pulls him forward. He nods, smiling quietly and gratefully to the Seraphim.

Saxon grins and greets his brothers-in-arms, and Merwyn is greeted with quite a bit of acclaim. He's been gone quite some time, it seems. Saxon grins. "I told you you'd dig this, guys," he says, turning back to the group and introducing them to the small knot of warriors. "Doxas is gonna tell some tales tonight, and it's gonna be a good party. Here's the deal, guys. We only have one rule here. You guys are new, so we only ask one thing from outsiders, okay? If we ask you for a story, you HAVE to give us one. Okay? If you don't, that's cool, but the boys here might show you the door. If not, expect to get some serious tongue-lashing. Is that cool with everyone?"

Thessaloniki flickers in amusement, then says, "I think that should work out just fine."

Shateishael nods, unsurprised, then grins down at the tense Mercurian, "There, see? Relax... you've got nothing to worry about." It wings over to a seat, making sure there's room for its friends, and settles happily.

Rosenstern nods to Sax, a faintly butterfly-like feeling in his stomach. He isn't exactly mocked, but there's some definite snickering at the guy with flowers on his head. Even the Elohites crack sidelong grins. Rosenstern takes the snickering in his stride; if anything it calms him somewhat. He'd expected something, and now that he's experiencing it, it's no longer unknown. Ah, well, this isn't exactly a typical party for one of Flowers' angels to go to. He glances around, politely and quietly and not drawing attention to himself, but curious; he's never been here before.

Taygeta says, "Seems fair. Does it have to be a war story? Somehow I doubt that a blow-by-blow account of working in the Weapons Research Lab developing more efficient sonar transducers during the Second World War will be of much interest..."

Shateishael tilts its gaze towards Taygeta, "Well, what was done with it might be cool?"

Taygeta says, "That's true. It's not properly my story to tell, though..."

Shateishael shrugs fluidly, an odd-looking expression on someone with multiple wings and not much in the way of shoulders, "Mitrah thought up the bomb, but I'll certainly tell what happened if they ask. So?"

Taygeta says, "Just checking. Stories I have."

Shateishael nods, then turns back to continue its interested regard of who's present tonight. Then it grins, leaning back an impossibly far distance -- amazing how fluidly long snake bodies can be! -- to whisper to Armisael, "So... what story will you tell, if asked?"

Armisael answers Shateishael quietly, "I'll tell them how I got here in the first place. It's a victory, after all, and not just for me."

Shateishael tilts its head slightly to smile at the Bright, then whispers, "Good point. Okay, just checking to be sure you didn't need interference run for you or anything." It grins, "Shoulda realized you'd have planned ahead." It grins again, then coils back up in its place next to Thessaloniki... or rather, where the Wheel tends to rest momentarily on occasion. Thessaloniki settles as much as it ever does, listening to the stories of War with interest and curiosity.

There are a great many faces present at the gathering. Typical grizzled NCO types, fresh-looking young recruits, and every imaginable permutation in between. Some of the human souls are telling stories of their own experiences, from Korea and Vietnam to Bosnia and Serbia; all the way back to the first World War, and even earlier. All nationalities and methods are here; old soldiers and classical swordsmen, German grenadiers and samurai sit next to each other. Some are drinking, some are eating, most are laughing and all are enjoying themselves. An Elohite helps a human soul who is missing a leg make his way to the tables; the smiling young Elohite provides a shoulder as well as a listening ear for the man.

After a time the Tables quiet slightly as Doxas stands up and raises his glass. Doxas is an impressive angel, physically imposing as well as quite handsome, as befits the Angel of Glory. He smiles brightly, "My friends and brothers in arms, welcome again to the tables. I'm pleased to see more new faces, and to see the old again... I invite all of you to join me in a toast to valor, to victory, and to the celebration of brotherhood. To Heaven and to victory!"

The crowd echoes him with sufficient enthusiasm to echo well into the Groves, and some of the nightbirds fly at the sound. Shateishael raises its mug, tail-end neatly coiled about the handle, and gladly toasts with everyone present, clinking the mug against the drinking vessels of all those within reach... glasses, drinking horns, other mugs, some elegant goblets -- then drinks with pleasure -- now that's a toast to live by!

Taygeta joins in the toast with the rest of the group, enjoying the company of the souls and angels, and wondering what will come next. Thessaloniki also joins in the toast with the others, then settles down to listening to the tales the others will spin.

See? Not unlike a beer-hall. Relax! Rosenstern joins with the toast, not even close to thinking to insult the group by abstaining, the camaraderie and companionship is more than enough reason to add his voice to the chorus even if it's not a toast that Novalites usually raise.

Doxas grins and drains his mug; he's an impressive drinker as well, it seems. "Excellent," he says, though it's not certain whether he's referring to the brew or the toast. Either, really, is applicable. "Tonight, I think, we'll hear the tale of the slaying of the Worm of Saminga. We've all heard the recent news, I'm sure... and if we're to battle Death, I think it's high time we heard how to do it right!" The crowd cheers again, even (or rather, especially) the little children.

Rosenstern blinks, his ears perking, and automatically looks to Slate, smiling quietly and not without a little pride for the new Vassal of Stone. Shateishael blinks, then looks around in interest, wondering if Druiel's present.

Doxas smiles, "Now... if my memory serves me correctly..." This draws a few chuckles from the crowd; the rumor is that Doxas remembers every story he's ever heard. Whether or not that's true, there's no denying that he tells a great story. Compelling even after telling and retelling, the story of how a single, embattled Seraph, trapped and wounded badly by the ancient beast, battled on even after the loss of his companions, or rather to avenge them, moves even the most jaded old soldier in the audience. The lone protagonist's victory is greeted with cheers. Doxas ends his story by raising his mug again and declaring, "To you, Makael, Hero and Slayer of the Worm of Saminga!" It isn't until all eyes turn in his direction that Rosenstern realizes that the Hero and Slayer is sitting next to him, on the right.

Shateishael listens with the same fascination it remembers feeling when it was much younger, and cheers with the others. It loves hearing these inspiring old stories. Thessaloniki cheerfully joins in with the cheers and the concluding toast, happy to put a face with such a name. When he notices that the Hero is sitting right next to Rosie, he grins at the Flowers angel, then looks back to the storyteller. Taygeta joins the acclaim for the story, and follows the looks to identify Makael. He chuckles to himself to see the Hero next to the Novalite.

Makael, the old Seraph, his scales worn smooth and iron-gray, just rises up to accept Doxas' acclaim, and bows deeply. He has the air of someone who's seen and done too much to be fazed by much at all; he replies to Doxas simply by stating, "To my friends. To all our friends. To the ones that can't be here." The crowd raises their glasses again and Makael settles slowly, to return to his drink.

Shateishael nods quietly and has a drink to that. Thessaloniki thinks, That fellow has class, and smiles quiet approval, joining in to the toast. Taygeta nods at the responding toast -- sentiments that he's seen too often over the years, both in Heaven and among humans.

Rosenstern admits that he enjoys the story; if nothing else, Saminga and his brood are certainly enemies to everyone in Heaven; peaceful, militant, and everything in between. At the end of the story and the hail, he blinks at the turning of eyes, turns... and he doesn't quite fall out of his seat. At Makael's simple acknowledgement of the praise and drinking to the toast, he doesn't think there's anything he could say -- congratulations? still more praise? He thinks none would go over too well. So he can only smile quietly, and with more than a little admiration, to the seraph.

Makael notices the Mercurian looking at him after a moment, and just grins, a weary old smile. "Ain't nothin' to be nervous about, boy. Time comes, we all do what we have to. 'S the only reason we're here. So drink up and quit lookin' so pale, son! This is a party!" He claps the young Mercurian on the shoulders with his powerfully muscled tail, though not enough to knock him over. Through the general chaos of revelry, some of the War angels are staring, looking positively envious. Doxas, however, just grins the same grin and refreshes his mug.

Shateishael grins, raising up enough to look over the others to see Rosenstern and the old Seraph. Rosenstern blinks, then smiles, and finds it even easier to relax still more. "Jah," he says, nodding, and raising his stein to the angel. "Prost, Sir! It's my first time here- oof!" With the unexpected, but not at all unwelcome clout, he sheepishly finishes his toast, and partakes.

Makael just smiles again. "Yeah, I know. We don't see much of yer kind here, and I'm pretty damn old. I'd've remembered you, son."

Shateishael grins again, settling back down to drink. Rosie's doing fine. Taygeta stays in the background, grinning at poor Rosenstern's discomfiture and joining in the revelry. He keeps eyes on his other friends, but is quite happy to meet new folks tonight.

Rosenstern grins sheepishly. "Yes, Sir. I don't imagine many of Mut- er, Novalis' angels come here. Actually, Sahazaquiel honored us by bringing us here; I hadn't even imagined it would be so..." He struggles for the right words. "Gemtlichkeit. Warm."

Makael grins. "It's gotta be that way, boy. Soldiers are people, first an' foremost... an' we gotta be able to put off steam somehow. Can't be in battle forever... gotta be able t'step back an' say, look what I've done! This is what I fought for! Gotta feel like yer part o' somethin'." The big Seraph takes a long drink. "Elsewise... what would ya fight for?"

Shateishael nods quietly to itself from its place a few seats down. Rosenstern tilts his head to the side a bit, listening as the Seraph speaks. He nods quietly and slowly, smiling. "I... understand, Sir. It's not a way of seeing that I've ever considered before..."

Makael says, "I expected ya hadn't, son. But I'm glad ya understand."

Doxas raises his mug and addresses the crowd again. "All right! It's time again, friends, for someone to share with us!" His eyes travel the crowd slowly and come to rest eventually upon Rosenstern, the stranger at the tables who has mysteriously struck up a conversation with the Hero, much to the chagrin and dismay of some of the present War angels. He calls out, "You, my friend! Stand up!" He beckons Rosenstern forward. "Stand up and come here!"

Shateishael grins at Rosenstern encouragingly. It thinks the young Mercurian has a hell of a story to tell.

Rosenstern feels somewhat small beside Makael; he feels small beside most of the angels of War and Glory and Stone, for that matter. But any such feeling is mitigated by the warmth of the seraph's presence and his mere demeanor. Gemtlichk, again, a German word meaning companionable, comradely warmth and sociability. "I'll remember it, Sir," he adds, then blinks and almost drops the stein at Doxas' call. He looks quickly around, hoping that it was someone else -- ah, no such luck. He stands, trying not to be trepidatious -- That'd get you a razzing like no other! he thinks -- and goes to Doxas, bowing politely to cover the butterfly-feeling -- the Behemoth-sized butterflies, that is.

Doxas thrusts his own mug into the Mercurian's hands. "Tell me your name, my friend! Tell us all your name, and speak so that we can all hear you!" Shateishael's many eyes widen slightly, as Glory shares his mug with the little Mercurian, man, that'll cause no end of holy cows tonight! -- and then it grins proudly, thinking, Way to go, Rosie! Give 'em hell!

Taygeta blinks with all his eyes at once, then grins as Rosenstern manages to stand up and move forward without looking fearful. You know what to tell about, Rose. It may not have been a big battle, but it was a fight, and you're the one who bought us the time to win it.

The clearing goes quiet. Some of the War Angels are clearly expecting a choke, and their derisive expressions aren't doing much to hide it. Most of the Stone angels are just snickering. Makael, however, is just watching silently. The Creationer with the insane hairdo is edging closer for a better vantage, and the circle of children is settling in again to hear yet another story.

Rosenstern blinks as the mug is handed forthwith to him. As he's told to, he raises his voice, but not overly loud, and speaks clearly, "Er, Rosenstern, in service to Novalis, O Glory!" He's not at all sure what the proper address to an angel of such high stature is, but has never been rebuked for hailing the Word-Bound by their Word.

Shateishael grins, then can't resist a slightly smug glance around at those angels which are a little too obvious in their disdain. He may be 'just' a Mercurian of Flowers... but he's our damn Mercurian of Flowers!

Thessaloniki notes the other Creationer, and thinks it might talk to them later. At the moment it focuses on Rosenstern, giving him a flickering, fiery smile. The Mercurian should be able to spin a fine yarn, if he'll only stop worrying and tell it. After all, it thinks, how many Novalites have met Vapula? And Lucifer? And lived?

Doxas nods. "All right, Rosenstern... we have but one rule here. I've shared our feast and my stories with you, and now, you have to share a story with me. Give me, give us a story, and remember in the telling that I will remember for everyone, and preserve your valor to inspire the warriors that haven't yet come!" Doxas picks up another mug, and bows away from the head of the table. "Brothers... Rosenstern's tale!" With that, the clearing is quiet again.

Rosenstern knows the request is coming, and he nods. Come on, Rosie, the one story you have that they're looking for... by the Grove! I'm an Intercessionist of Flowers, I'm not supposed to take pride in conflict! But... He glances to Makael, and remembers. Gotta be able t' step back an' say, look what I've done! This is what I fought for! Gotta feel like yer part o' somethin'. He smiles quietly and nods once, remembering why... and begins to speak, clearly and plainly.

"Not long ago, within the University in the Truce City and beneath the earth, Technology's fires burned and grew, waiting to scorch the land of mortals and spread his Word still further. Lightning learned of it and of its dangers, but not where. And so it fell to Taygeta, the Domination, to find it. And with him we went as well: Shateishael of Stone, Thessaloniki of Creation, and myself.

"We asked questions and sought answers, and in time we found the place where Technology and his minions had hidden the Tokamak. And into the depths we went. And we found the place, hidden away and guarded by Death's creations. Shateishael cleaved through them, and we were at the door to Technology's place.

"Cautiously we entered, but not long after we went in Technology's servitor was suddenly there, with a... weapon of his master's make. Thessaloniki threw a phone at him, striking the demon soundly, and he staggered, firing blindly at us. Shateishael took up his sword and struck down the demon.

"But the task was not yet over, and Taygeta began Lightning's good work, destroying that which threatened the mortals above us. The demon yet lived, though, and when he roused himself enough to stand, he charged forward again, singing a summons to his master." He pauses, he's not sure -- Just say it, Rosie, they'll not judge ill of you! "As he moved, with a gun blessed by Heaven, I shot him, and his soul fled back to the halls of Technology in Hell."

He finishes the story relatively quickly from there; no need to go into his terror at feeling he'd broken the Truce, or the entrance of Vapula. Vapula will remember that well enough, after all. He admits to some pride at the story; as a group they had done well that day, each one of them, Stone and Creation and Lightning and Flowers; Earth and Air and Fire and Water. None of it could have gone nearly as well if any of them hadn't done what they'd done, and Rosie would have likely been... 'zapped,' of that he's certain, if not for Nick's phone-throw or Slate's sword. Of course, at the end, he's sure that it's going to get back to Novalis; if she hasn't heard of it before, the fact that he just related it before Glory certainly will.

As the story ends, the kids all grin, talking among themselves, "A raygun! Cool!" "Wow, he's tougher than he looks!" The older humans nod and raise their glasses, and everyone toasts the story. Doxas grins, "Well, now. The story of a Mercurian overcoming his fear to stand up for his friends. Rosenstern, I will remember this story for those that come later, and we thank you for telling us your tale."

There is, however, sort of a murmur rippling through the crowd. "He did that?" "Vapula would never have left them alive." "No way."

Shateishael straightens up and glares at the angel speaking, then hisses, "Do you doubt the story?! He tells the truth!"

The murmur is cut short by a deep, clear voice on the far side of the clearing. "It sure sounds like the Truth to me." All eyes turn; there, leaning on a tree, axe-head in the ground next to him and a brown bottle of beer in hand, is Michael.

Thessaloniki flickers in mild irritation when it realizes these people might not believe Rosie's story, and it's pleased when Slate, a Seraph, begins to say something. It thinks, Why do none of the angels trust one another? only to have that thought pleasantly shattered by Michael's statement. Shateishael nods at Michael's comment also, looking grimly pleased, and settles back down.

The tension in the crowd goes away instantly -- there can be no arguing with Michael. Michael grins and has a long pull on his beer, finishing it. "Good story, kid. Liked the phone. Nice touch." The doubting angels sit down quickly, chagrined, and raise their glasses with the others to Rosenstern. Michael raises his bottle briefly.

Shateishael grins, its irritation vanishing at Michael's commentary, and cheerfully slaps Thessaloniki on the... er... on a flaming bit, "Any weapon in need, eh?"

Taygeta chuckles as he drifts over to Thessaloniki and Shateishael. "Absolutely. It distracted old Vincent at a rather crucial moment. And Rosenstern did a nice job of finishing things."

Rosenstern smiles quietly, letting a bit of his nervousness go and bowing to Doxas. "I was glad to relate it, O Glory," he says quietly. He takes a sip from the mug he was handed... and stops short at the sudden, growing tension as it's quickly and neatly shattered by not only the voice of Slate... but also that unmistakable, gravelly voice from the other end of the clearing. The butterflies return in force, but then disappear quickly at the archangel's words. He swallows and nods -- no, more like bows, towards War, and raises the mug Doxas gave him to Michael... and, still stunned speechless, to Makael. For the reason why we remember -- why we must remember, victory.

Shateishael nods firmly to Rosenstern, then grins and can't resist, "Told you you did good!"

Thessaloniki flickers brightly, and says, "Yes, he certainly did." It settles again, pleased that Rosie mentioned the phone, and more pleased that someone stood up for the Novalite; this is not a place he should have to defend himself, especially when he's got Truth to tell.

Doxas turns on the hi-beams again. "Boss! You've missed a good party!" Michael says, "I've seen enough," eyeing the Mercurian as he steps forward and deposits the empty bottle on the table. "Well. I sure didn't expect to hear that from one of you... but anyone that stands up for what he believes in, or stands up for his brothers, has War's respect."

Rosenstern thinks to himself, I hope I'm not breaking any rules of etiquette. I've never been in a situation like this, I don't even have an inkling as to what to say or -- holy shamolie! He didn't say... yes, of course he did... oh, by the Glade, I can barely believe my ears! He looks stunned -- and that even doesn't do it justice. He bows politely and respectfully to Michael, giving himself a few moments to find his voice. "I... I'm honored, Sir," he manages to say, hoping that doesn't sound too obsequious.

Michael shrugs, "Long as you understand. Stand up for yourself, kid. We know you're no fighter. But strength of conviction counts for something too. Don't forget it." He grins and turns to go. "Good party, Doxas. Sorry to drink and run on you, but I'll stick around for the next one." He walks back to the edge of the clearing; without even breaking pace he snags the handle of the axe and swings it into the air. It rotates twice, with a low, heavy whoomp in the air, before the handle lands in his palm, and he props the weapon up on his shoulder as he walks off into the darkness.

Shateishael watches with quiet attention as the Archangel leaves... then turns to look back at Doxas and Rosenstern. Taygeta murmurs, "He does know how to make an exit, doesn't he?" Shateishael wonders thoughtfully to itself... interesting that Michael was there at just the right time to back up Rosenstern's story... it nods once, silently, to itself. The War angels look expectantly to Rosenstern.

Rosenstern can't help but mutely nod at Michael's admonition. Impossible not to remember! he thinks. The archangel's exit is as impressive as he is. He looks to Doxas, glad that heavenly wings don't shed from nervousness... and wonders at the silence and expectant looks. Then he remembers where he is, and nods quietly, raising the mug. His voice is quiet but clear: "For those who came before us, who inspired us to stand strong unto the end against Der Teuflisch, in whatever way we might stand, that we may never forget!"

Shateishael shakes its head slowly and grins as it joins in the toast, Man, Rosie, when you're on, you're on! it thinks happily. Thessaloniki joins the toast with the others, smiling (however it is wheels of fire do that) to its friend and settling down again, letting him command everyone's attention by himself. He can do it, and he deserves it. Taygeta raises another glass in honor of his friend and joins the applause. And now what?

All the War Angels raise their glasses, as do the humans, and echo the toast. Doxas nods, "Well said, my friend." He turns to the assembled, "Well, brothers... let's enjoy ourselves! On with the feast!" Thus let off the hook, Rosenstern is free to sit back down. The crowd returns to general feasting and carrying on, though with sufficient time to imbibe, a few upraised choruses are starting to waft their way across the clearing. Doxas threads his way through the crowd, mingling and maintaining his party.

Rosenstern thanks Doxas, and doesn't quite collapse in his seat, looking a bit exhausted. "I... didn't quite expect to see Michael here," he says quietly to the others.

Shateishael just grins quietly at the wrung-out Mercurian. Thessaloniki smiles and says, "Well, you did. And, he thought you did fine."

Rei gives the Mercurian a little hug. "This is his backyard, y'know. Relax! You did good." Merwyn has returned from his orbit of the crowd and agrees. "Quite so. You conducted yourself well, sir."

Taygeta says, "Absolutely. I'm glad he picked you, now that it's over. Maybe the War angels won't be quite so ready to denigrate your people for a while, Rosenstern."

Shateishael looks around the Feasting Tables a little wistfully... then sighs quietly, smiles ruefully to itself, and leans against the table, mug in its curled tail and watching its friends. Merwyn bows a bit, hovering closer to the Stone Seraph, "Ah, pardon me sir, but I was asked while making my rounds to give a message to you."

Rosenstern smiles wanly to Nick. "Which... floored me, actually!" He relaxes, though, almost as soon as Rei hugs him, returning it cheerfully. "Thank you, Rei! And thank you, Merwyn. I... just feel a bit out of breath." He blinks to Taygeta and smiles quietly. "Well... I can't have been the first of Flowers here. If it helps... that might be a good thing, then." He glances to the seraph and smiles. "And thank you for saying what you did, Shateishael." He adds quietly, "I heard it clearly and before everyone stopped to listen to Michael. It gladdened my heart to hear your voice from 'way over there.'" He stops short of going over to embrace the seraph; he doesn't want to ruin its dignity in that way.

Taygeta settles down again, somehow resting even though the Kyriotate's form still swirls ceaselessly. He starts to say something, but stops at Merwyn's comment. Shateishael starts to turn to regard Merwyn, then pauses and grins relaxedly at Rosenstern, "Eeyh, how could I not, Rosie? Gotta stand by one's brothers in arms, and for the Truth, and all that." It winks cheerfully (and with little apparent regard for dignity) at the still-breathless Mercurian, then nods politely to the Sword's Wheel, "Shateishael's just fine, Merwyn." It grins wryly, "'Sir' is for archangels, I thought."

Rosenstern smiles quietly back to Slate, mentally rebuking himself for missing asking Merwyn to not call him 'sir.' He'll be very, very sure to not promote that; he certainly doesn't rate it. The Sword angel replies to Shateishael, "Ah, yes. You must excuse me: I've been absent a very long time, you see; my protocol is somewhat rusty. Regardless, a mortal wished to speak with you. There, on the far side of the clearing with the other elder soldiers. He said that he was an old associate of yours."

Shateishael grins dryly, murmuring, "I hear that..." about one's protocol getting rusty at long absence, then straightens, looking with interest across the clearing. "Really? Huh... wonder who..." It thanks Merwyn for delivering the message, then says to the others, "Back in a bit, guys..." and lifts up to fly in a high arc over the table, so it disturbs no one. It lands near the elder soldiers, wondering who the 'old associate' could be.

Rosenstern watches Slate glide across the grove, and frets a little. "I'd hoped to hear Slate relate his own story of his battle against Frex," he says quietly. "I think people here would have liked to have heard that one."

Taygeta watches to see who wants to talk to Shateishael. "Probably. But it'll keep until next time."

The elders that Merwyn described are a knot of older human souls, sitting and quietly swapping tales of their own, soaking up the camaraderie with other souls of comparable age. Relatively speaking... obviously some of these souls are from disparate eras; the silver-haired man wearing the Maltese Cross is obviously not a contemporary of his friend bearing tour of duty ribbons from the Korean War. However, toward the center of the cluster is a face immediately familiar to the Stone Seraph; a small, stately old Japanese man with long, dark hair. "Ah," he says, raising his head as the Seraph alights, "There you are, my boy."

Shateishael floats over quietly, but it lights up noticeably at sight of the older man, all six eyes widening in pleasure, "Sensei!" It bows with carefully proper formality, then happily spreads its wings in less formal greeting, "I didn't think to see you here!" It grins delightedly, "Do the War angels have you teaching arrogant young whippersnappers their lessons, like you did for me?"

The old smith smiles serenely. "It would seem that even okami-sama can still make use of me... and I am not ready to go to my rest yet, so I still teach the ones that require my learning. It is good to see you, my boy. I trust you have remembered your lessons?"

Shateishael nods a little ruefully, "Yes, Masamune Sensei, although I never did master the art as gracefully as you did." It looks faintly guilty, making a mental note to do more proper sword forging -- it's just not respectful not to, even if it would be a little hard to explain if a modern historian got his hands on one of the swords.

The sensei smiles. "Good. I knew that I chose my student well. I am pleased to know that you are here, my son... it is a pleasure to see you again. Will you come and see me here again?"

Shateishael beams broadly, "I would love to, yes, and thank you!" It pauses, then adds, "Would you care to meet my companions, sensei? One of them is Rosenstern, the storyteller tonight?"

The old man smiles a bit. "I do not wish to interrupt your revelry, my son. But please bring them with you when you come to see me next, Kuma-kun. I am always at the forges now. In their way, they have given me a better eternity than I would have asked for, by allowing me to remain... what teacher could refuse a forever in which to improve his art?"

Shateishael tilts its head, thinking about that... then grins, pleased, "I am glad to hear that, Sensei. It's how I always envisioned you in my head -- the forges were where it felt like you belonged." It bows formally again, still beaming in spite of itself, and adds politely, "Then I shall withdraw, and interrupt your revelry no longer... and..." it grins happily, "-it is very good to see you again!"

The sensei inclines his head to the Seraph, "Oyasumi nasai, my son. I will see you soon."

Shateishael smiles, "Oyasumi nasai, sensei." It flies back to the others, still grinning happily.

Taygeta grins as the Seraph returns. "An old friend of yours, I take it?"

Rosenstern tilts his head to the side as the seraph returns, and smiles as he sees it blissfully happy. "That certainly seemed a good reunion!"

Shateishael glances at the group as it flies up, mentally making notes... if it's going to be forging good weapons, they should have a purpose, and meaning. It needs to make a nice kaiken, or women's tanto, for Armisael, and one for Rosenstern too... Thessaloniki's big knife is... barely acceptable, but it wonders if Sax has a decent close-in weapon... it grins, "Oh, yeah! That was my old sensei that taught me how to forge a decent sword!" The grin gets a little sheepish, "Man, I was such a cocky gaijin when I first turned up at his forge! Thought I already knew everything about sword making." It laughs, a deep chuckle, "Was I ever wrong!"

Taygeta chuckles. "Trust me on this one. The humans are good at technology."

Rosenstern blinks in surprise, then grins cheerfully. Shateishael has a long drink from its mug, then settles back, still pleased to hear its old sensei is happy to be in Heaven. "Masamune Sensei. Amazing man. Used to look like the swords just flowed out onto his anvil." It looks around, curious to see if anyone in the group has spent any time in Japan.

Rosenstern shakes his head, smiling quietly. "All of my time was in Europe, I'm afraid. Masamune sounds like he had a great influence on you!"

Rei smiles apologetically. "I'm afraid I spent time there a long, long time after you did, big guy. Glad you found your teacher, though." Saxon, for his part, is on the other side of the clearing singing the tenor part of 'New Life In Old Mexico' with some other War angels.

Shateishael gives Rei an interested look, wondering if she speaks Japanese. It murmurs quietly,

"Akikaze ya
ikite aimiru
nare to ware,"

then watches her curiously.

Taygeta recognizes the Haiku format, but has no idea what most of it means. Rosenstern doesn't even recognize that much of it. He blinks, curiosity further aroused. Rei tilts her head curiously. "Ano... doko ni kikimashita ka?"

Shateishael laughs softly, then grins at Rei, "From a warrior I knew, speaking to a lovely woman he loved." It turns to the others and translates,

"Autumn wind-
met, returning alive
you and me."

It grins, adding, "I always had a soft spot for haiku."

Rei smiles and nods. "Very pretty, big guy. You've got a soft touch for a Stone."

Shateishael grins cheerfully at Rei and raises its mug, "Don't tell, ma'am. It'd play merry havoc with my stern reputation!" It nods to Rosenstern, "Oh yeah! I was searching for the best swords in the world, so I could preserve how to make them. I kept asking the people I met on my wanderings where the best swords in the world could be found... eventually I ended up in Japan, and they all pointed me to Masamune sensei... but all told me I'd never get to learn from him, because he wasn't accepting students."

At around this same time, the Creationer with the cloud of spiky and surreally hued hair hovering around his head has made his way to the edges of the group and grins to Nick. "Hey, bro. Haven't seen you here before." He's a skinny little Mercurian wearing a wrinkled blue suit. Closer up, it seems that his eyes are strangely colored as well; they don't appear to ever be the same color the next time you look, and never seem to match. "Don't get many of us around here."

Shateishael pauses in its storytelling, looking with interest at the Creationer. Rosenstern tilts his head to the side at the translation and smiles quietly, comparing the cadence and rhythm of the original with the meaning of the translation. "It's very nice, Slate, definitely. I like it." He blinks to Slate at the start of the story, intensely curious as to how the Stone angel got the sword-maker to teach him, then looks up at the arrival of the Intercessionist.

Thessaloniki has drifted close enough to listen. His Stone friend, who is often deeper than people expect, makes him smile. The other Eliite coming up to him distracts him, and he looks over and replies, "Hello, hello. It is my first time here, yes." He introduces himself and his companions by name, then asks, "Are you here often?" Shateishael nods politely when introduced, listening with interest.

The other Creationer shrugs, adjusting his rolled-up sleeves, and grins. "I try... War tells some fantastic stories. My name's Zerekiel. Your friend says you're working in Austin? That's cool, man, that's real cool."

Thessaloniki chuckles and replies, "We are working in Austin. It is a strange place, and easy to get quite tangled in things. Interesting, though. I live a ways outside of town."

Zerekiel grins. "Oh, are you the dude that fixes the cars?"

Thessaloniki grins and says, "Yeah, that'd be me."

Rosenstern blinks in surprise, and grins softly. Shateishael grins, "Thessaloniki's our ever-dependable base of operations, and the best with cars! He's a miracle worker -- just ask Armisael!"

Zerekiel nods. "That's awesome, man. You mind if I swing through sometime? The Dude is supposed to come through Austin a lot... it'd be nice to have someone on the inside before I go jumping into the local politics."

Shateishael nods ruefully into its mug at that comment! Taygeta chuckles, a weird effect in stereo. "You can say that again." Shateishael grins.

Rosenstern murmurs, just before taking a sip from his own stein, "That's never a bad thing to have..."

Shateishael says fervently, "Thank god for Ms. Zara!" Rosenstern nods quickly to Shateishael!

Thessaloniki chuckles and says, "Yes, please stop by and say hi, and ask for all the scoop before you wander around. I can introduce you to folks; try and explain the weirdness that is the local politics. Anyway, I'm always happy to have folks dropping by. I've seen him a couple of times around. It's a busy place."

Zerekiel coughs, "You... you-" He blinks a few times, "You've seen him?! How is he? Is he okay? What's he doing?"

Thessaloniki chuckles and adds, "We've also run into Lucifer, Vapula, Michael, and Dominic..." Shateishael grins quietly into its mug again.

Taygeta adds, "Among others..."

Zerekiel says, "Screw Dominic-" He pales, pausing, looks around and over his shoulder, "I mean, forget that, how's Eli?"

Rosenstern looks distinctly like he didn't hear a thing. And he didn't. Shateishael just laughs softly. Thessaloniki grins widely, "He's good, man, really good. He didn't want to go into details about what he'd been doing exactly, and I didn't press, but I did have a chance to talk to him. As is usually the case, he's very wise and knew exactly what to say to get me to think my way out of the mess I was in." Shateishael's sideways glance at its friend is rather proud... but then, of course Eli'd take the time out talk to someone like Thessaloniki, it thinks.

Zerekiel grins, "Oh, man, that's awesome! You don't know how lucky you are, man, I haven't seen him since the Sixties!" The skinny Creationer smiles broadly. "I've gotta get down to Texas. I heard rumors that he likes it down there in Austin; I mean, that's where they filmed Slacker! It only makes sense... yeah. Yeah, cool."

Thessaloniki nods, "He's just as together as always. Don't ever think he's not aware of what you're doing, y'know? If you were wrong, you'd hear from him. Do what you know to be right, and that'll be cool." He adds, "And if you do get really stuck, call. He came when I needed his advice. And because of it, when the Fallen himself tried to tempt me, he hadn't a chance; I knew who I worked for and what I was doing."

Rosenstern grins softly. Somehow, he can't see Eli being anything but ecstatic about how Nick's been doing in service to Creation. Shateishael wonders idly what 'Slacker' is. Thessaloniki grins again, "Come by and see us. It's a busy place. All sorts of interesting folks from both camps. Not too often you can sit in a coffee shop and flirt with the other side, y'know?" He chuckles. Shateishael grins at its friend and shakes its head amusedly.

Zerekiel nods. "Totally, man. Don't let those guys with the Sword and Judgement and shit talk down on you. We gotta stay strong, so when the Dude comes home we can prove that we had it together for him."

Shateishael murmurs quietly, "Word."

Thessaloniki grins, "They're cool, too, man, even if they don't understand."

Taygeta agrees. "Judgement isn't as bad as his rep. He's honest, when it comes down to the wire. He's not out to trap folks." Shateishael firmly shuts its mouth.

Zerekiel grins. "Heh. Okay, bro. I gotta be going, but I'm glad I got to see you. I wanna say hi to my Heart while I'm up here, before I gotta head back to Earth. You stay cool, brother." He turns to go, and when he does, suddenly all the color drains from his wings and leaves them jet black; and he doesn't look at all Mercurian for several strange seconds, but then he's gone in the crowd.

Shateishael blinks interestedly, then murmurs in an aside to Nick, "Hey... what was that?"

Taygeta says, "Someone's fiddling with his color contrast dials...?"

Thessaloniki says, "Be well, friend," and waves, watching the very strange exit curiously. He can only answer Slate, "I have no idea. Black wings."

Rosenstern blinks curiously, straightening alertly. "He looked... for a moment... almost like one of the Malakim..." he murmurs. He frowns slightly. "His eyes seemed to actually be the same color when his wings changed. Uh... brown, I think?"

Shateishael murmurs thoughtfully, "His eyes actually matched when the wings changed... red, I thought. Um, so, Rosie... why would a Mercurian have a scar on the back of his arm?"

Rosenstern frowns slightly, glancing to Slate. "Yeah... brown or russet, I thought. Uh... a scar on the back of his arm? If he was in a human Vessel, I'd say it was fair bad accident of some sort. But celestial?" He shakes his head. "Unless he's matching his celestial form to his Vessel's form...?"

Shateishael shakes its head, "No, I'm sure they were red, Rosie."

Rosenstern nods, "Red, then. You probably had a better look. I know I missed the scar." He frowns slightly, then looks to the Ofanite. "You've never met him before tonight, Nick?"

Taygeta does his equivalent of a shrug. "I missed his eyes. The wings were definitely black, though."

Rosenstern frowns, "And with him being in service to Eli, there's nobody who can say for certain who he is. I admit that I don't normally worry about other angels, and there's a lot of variety among celestials, but that was... kind of odd..."

Shateishael describes the scar, "It was just a little, straight line. Barely noticeable... I just happened to be looking in the right place at the right time." It adds, "Maybe Sax knows." It looks up, realizes the War angel is singing 'The Real Folk Blues' with his buddies, all in different keys, and winces, then adds bravely, "Let's get Rei to ask him!" It grins cheerfully at the Bright, obviously just teasing.

Rei smirks, "I'm not going anywhere near that mess, big man." Shateishael laughs!

The party continues until morning. When the sun comes up, the hardcore partygoers have settled into quiet conversation, and with the coming of the sun they gradually disperse. The sounds of shouting and the clash of arms can be heard from the not-too-distant training grounds. Sax comes to his senses eventually, and with the rest of the group heads back to the Alamo Tether. Merwyn asks to come with, if that's all right.

Thessaloniki has no problem with the other angel tagging along, and in fact offers him a lift once Earthside, if he needs it. The Wheel appreciates the offer, and expresses interest in the place that his friends have been enthusing about since his return. Shateishael is happy to see Merwyn come along, since it still wants to chat with the interesting Sword Wheel at some point. It makes a mental note to report to Mitrah as well, as per David's directive.

Rosenstern certainly has no objection to Merwyn going down with them, either. He reminds himself, belatedly, that he should visit the Novalites at Hippie Hollow, too, at some point. Since coming to Austin, he's yet to go there. There's just been all sorts of other things going on.

Thessaloniki chuckles when Rosie mentions that, "Ayup, probably ought to, Rosie. Let us know when you plan on it and I know I'd be happy to come along, and bet Slate could be talked into it." Shateishael looks over at Nick and Rosie and grunts amusedly. Nick grins at Rei and Sax and asks, "Want to come along?"

Rosenstern nods, smiling, "Thank you, Nick!"

Rei grins. "We'll think about it." Saxon just nods; he's still a little shagged out.

The trip Earthside is smooth as usual. Merwyn steps out of the bathroom stall last, cutting an impressive figure on the Corporeal plane. Very tall, almost six and a half feet, slender and dressed very sharply in a dark olive shirt and gray tie, and a long, quite beautiful overcoat. He carries himself like one would expect a knight-errant to; graceful, poised, and chivalrous to a fault. He bows to let the lady pass, his black hair falling boyishly in his eyes.

Shateishael raises an eyebrow at the Sword angel, but doesn't comment. Thessaloniki chuckles, then asks, "Need a lift anywhere, Merwyn? And do you have a corporeal nickname?" Rosenstern stretches a little, getting the feel for his human vessel again. Then he glances back and almost, but not quite, falters in his steps when he sees the corporeal vessel of the Sword. He recovers quickly, though, reminding himself that, as one of Laurence's, Merwyn would probably not be amused.

Merwyn nods politely. "I would like to see this place that my friends have spoken so highly of, before I make my way into town, if that wouldn't be much of an imposition? And Merwyn is my name on this plane." He briefly hums his Celestial name, "You may call me Zeruel if you wish."

Shateishael nods to the Sword Ofanite, "Think I'll stick with Merwyn, thanks. So... what was your quest?" He's internally pleased that Rei and Sax like Nick's place so much.

Slate: male, looks about 20 to 25 years old. Bright blonde hair sometimes worn back in a ponytail, sometimes rather impatiently hacked off in front as bangs. Usually narrowed blue eyes and tanned skin. Broad shouldered, with a muscular torso, like a blacksmith. Slightly sardonic grin most of the time. Usually moves deliberately, tends to wear pragmatic, sturdy clothing: heavy leather boots, jeans, flannel shirts, stuff like that.

Rosenstern perks his ears curiously and interestedly; he's heard of some angels of the Sword undertaking quests before, but very little about what those quests were. Thessaloniki chuckles, "Well, we're here in the middle of San Antonio, at the Alamo. If the Ranch is a goal, then we can go there straight away. It's only a hundred miles or so. Maybe half an hour's drive." Rosenstern looks to Nick, but remembers before he asks that a hundred miles is a half an hour's drive... to Nick.

Merwyn mms, "Ah, that. I made a vow thirty-two years hence to make restitution for the sordid little antics of an Andrealphan we ran afoul of. We were unable to locate all of her victims right away... and so I made it my business to see that no one defies the will of God, particularly not a debased creature such as her. I only recently was able to locate the last victim." He sighs quietly. "She did her work well, I am sorry to say."

Sax, still half-draped over Rei's shoulders, raises his head and mutters, "...was a fuckin' bitch, you mean..."

Shateishael murmurs quietly, "Glad you found them all," and doesn't say more. He gets the feeling there's some pain there. Maybe he'll ask later, when Rei's not present... he's a little vague on the concept, but thinks he remembers chivalry entails protecting women from nasty information. And this Swordie just oozes chivalry, he thinks with quiet amusement. Rosenstern winces slightly and thinks it better if he didn't ask what the servitor of Lust did... or, probably, what Merwyn was locating the victims for. At least for now.

Merwyn smiles a little. "A nasty business. But, happily, over with now. So... tell me about this Ranch..."

The Ranch is more or less just as the group left it, though the dapper young Dominican is waiting on the porch as usual to pay his regular visit. The presence of the towering Sword Angel seems to put him off a bit, but he conducts himself with his usual polite professionalism. Thessaloniki is cheerful as usual and greets the angel of Judgement, inviting him in and offering him a beer along with the others.

Shateishael nods silently to the Dominican, then pretty much ignores him, staying out of the guy's way. Over a beer he tells the others the story of what happened at the Seraph Council (not really emphasizing his own contributions much, as per his usual style), then warns all his friends to watch their backs in regards to Samingans, repeating the information that the demon Prince of Death doesn't intend to keep the Truce. He also asks Nick if perhaps the Ofanite can see if the Dark Lilim he met, Marlena, might happen to know whom the unknown Samingans in town are.

Thessaloniki chuckles cheerfully at that, and says, "One of these days I'll have to tell her who I work for."

Rosenstern is unsurprised by the reports that Saminga won't honor the Truce; from what he's heard of the Prince of Death, Saminga gibbers madly and is wont to do what he will. "Well, it'd certainly catch her off-guard!"

Shateishael grins amusedly at Nick. He also quietly makes sure his own swords are clean and in excellent repair, as he talks. Not only does he want to honor Masamune sensei, but he also wants to be prepared if any of his friends need backup. He pauses, thinking quietly... interesting. He's mentally graduated Rei, Sax, and Rosie to 'friend' -- he's seen Rosie stick by his friends in the face of danger, and he's shared a small, fun scuffle with Sax, and Rei... well, Rei's just so nice! He smiles quietly, internally pleased... then considers Taygeta. He doesn't really know the Kyrio that well, although he feels a little sorry for both Rei and Tay -- Jean seems to be practically ignoring the efforts Tay and the others have put in on Lightning's behalf.

The Dominican politely declines the drink, as per usual, and starts in on the usual rote. It always starts the same way, and has happened so often by now that Nick could easily say the whole spiel back to the Dominican from memory: "To my knowledge, there are no charges against you. We are here to gather information on your general state. If you could discuss this...?" The same set of questions comes up in the conversation that always do, although the young Judge has gotten significantly smoother over time at integrating them: "Are you dissonant? Are you Discordant? Do you anticipate that something might make you dissonant in the future? Are you comfortable in your job? Is there anything you think we would be interested to know about?"

Thessaloniki's answers to the Dominican are the usual cheerful replies of, "Happy to discuss it," "Nope, no dissonance, no discord," "Nothing on the horizon that might give me discord that I'm aware of," "Yes, very comfortable with my work, and enjoying what I do," "Have you heard that there's a new flavor of Ben & Jerry's?" -- he loves the 'anything new' question. Shateishael yawns, waiting for the Dominican to finish.

Then comes the big gun, as always: "Have you seen Eli lately?"

The last question is a new one. Nick decides that truth is the only possibility, and answers by asking a question, "That depends on what you mean by recently. I just talked to a fellow in Heaven who hasn't seen him in more than forty years..." He adds, before the other can become suspicious, "But I haven't seen him since I last spoke to Dominic." Shateishael snickers quietly.

The Dominican scribbles assiduously on his notepad, nodding to each answer. To the ice cream answer he merely replies, "Fascinating." Merwyn sits comfortably on the couch, watching the young Dominican at work. He may not intend to do so, but the Sword Angel has eyes like a snake; his stare appears to be drilling a hole in the Dominican's temple, from the way the Judge keeps glancing at him. The Dominican regains his focus quickly, asking, "But you spoke to him before."

Shateishael sighs, sprawling out on the chair he's lying half across, and mutters exasperatedly, "Christ, of course he did -- couldn't anyone, in the 1800's?"

Thessaloniki asks, "Spoke to who before? Dominic? Or Eli? I've spoken to both of them in the past. I've met several interesting people." He grins mischievously and asks, "Have you had a chance to speak with Lucifer?"

Shateishael raises his head and snarls in amusement at his friend, "Nick! Quit baiting the kid!"

The Judge says, "Please don't avoid the question, sir. When did you last see Eli?"

Shateishael sighs again, letting his head flop back against the chair. Well, it was a nice try. Thessaloniki smiles, "That's a different question entirely." He answers correctly and truthfully, "I saw him last at the music festival where all the other superiors were."

The Dominican nods. "So noted. You've had no other contact with him?"

Shateishael growls under his breath, then confines himself to drinking his beer. Thessaloniki says, "Not since then, no."

The Judge looks up from his pad. "And before?"

Thessaloniki smiles and says, "You're getting much better at this, you know that? Very good indeed." He then says, "I spoke to Eli most recently before the music festival, at a hotel, while guarding the band Stool." He adds, "As I had promised Dominic himself, I relayed his message that he would very much like to speak with Eli." Shateishael snorts under his breath again.

The Judge nods, scribbling some more notes. "Indeed. We appreciate your consideration in that." He adds, "We understand that you cannot be held responsible for the caprices of your Archangel."

Shateishael's lips curl up in a smile of mock sweetness at the Judgement angel, "I'm sure Nick will extend the same courtesy to all he meets also."

Thessaloniki also quietly adds, "And if I hadn't had had a chance to speak with him when I did, a very few days later when the greatest tempter in the world asked me a couple of hard questions, I might not have had the knowledge that my Superior was in fact behind me, and I could have been led astray. In this, Eli's wisdom and words were exactly what was needed to keep me on the side of Light."

The Judge nods, scribbling furiously now. "I see. Your testimony at the subsequent hearing would bear that out." He raises his head from his notes, then turns to Shateishael, "Now, if I may, there was something about a Dark Lilim?"

Thessaloniki says dryly, "Considering who interviewed me, it had better, yes."

Shateishael gives the Judgement angel an utterly confused look, "What?!"

Rosenstern doesn't disturb Slate as he does his near ritual of sword cleaning, unable -- screamingly unable -- to fail to see how much Slate dislikes Judgement. Understandable, after what Dominic put Thessaloniki through. He grins quietly at the "Ben and Jerry's" answer; the Judge's response indicates he's probably familiar with Nick's unique way of answering. He remains tired-looking -- from the long drive, don't you know -- as the questioning turns to having seen Eli lately. Oh, blast it! he thinks. Why does Judgement have it out for Creation? Well... Eli left, without saying a word as to why... that's gotta still be painful. I know Mom misses Eli terribly, and -- oh, ho. He perks up slightly at the Judge's question. It's like he knows, but wants Nick to say it. What the... wait... who was that Mercurian we saw at the Feasting Tables, after all? No... angels wouldn't do that to one another, would they? Would Judgement disguise someone as an angel serving another superior? Then again, this is the Divine Inquisition... Oh, man, Rosie, there's just no telling what is what. It's almost saddening... He nods, however, at Nick's comment, even though the Judge probably wouldn't make note of it.

The Judge says calmly, "You mentioned a Lilim by the name of Marlena?"

Shateishael laughs! then says just as calmly, "Well, it's nice to know even Judgement angels stoop to eavesdropping."

The Judge doesn't even blink. "I cannot be held responsible for the volume of your speaking voice, sir."

Shateishael shrugs indifferently, abruptly losing interest in the Dominican, "Don't ask me, I wasn't there."

The Dominican jots more notes. "Indeed. Then perhaps the Most Holy would inform me as to who was present?"

Shateishael rises restlessly, saying to Nick, "Gimme a yell when we're not being watched..." He sighs, then says slowly and clearly, "No, I cannot. I was not there... ergo I would not know." He leaves then, striding out hastily before he hits something in exasperation -- and harms Nick's position.

Thessaloniki chides gently, "Now, now, Slate. He is a guest here, too, and perfectly welcome to listen to the conversations going on around him." He tells the Dominican, "He's referring to Marlena, a Dark I met by random chance in a coffee shop. I'm rather fond of the stuff, as many would be happy to note. She assumed I was on her team, and seemed willing to talk."

The Judge watches Slate leave, then starts in on a second lead in his mechanical pencil. If he's perturbed, he gives no indication. He scribbles; "Indeed. And you gave her no indication to the contrary?"

Thessaloniki smiles, "She never asked, and I felt no need to dissuade her of her supposition."

Rosenstern fidgets a little, glancing over to Slate as he leaves, then back to the Judge. And Nick goes through this all the time? That being incredibly patient! He chokes back something in his throat, and rubs his neck a little. I know Dominic and his people are doing their jobs, but... blast it to cinders, there has to be trust. It's part of being selfless. He looks again to Nick. I only hope I've got his patience and good humor when Dominic starts thinking Mom isn't pursuing the War stringently enough, or trying to make peace and Redeem the fallen instead of soul-killing them.

The young Dominican nods. "I see. Well, you'll let us know should she reveal anything that we would find interesting, naturally."

Thessaloniki says, "Naturally. Mostly, we talked about coffee, and how stressful everything was since Frex got killed."

The Judge nods. "I can certainly understand; recent events have been quite stressful for all parties. I would like to remind each of you that Judgement is always available for counseling in the Capitol."

Thessaloniki says, "I'm certainly aware of that, yes. There are other heavenly resources available, too. I find it disappointing that they are not as well advertised, especially to those new to Austin."

The Judge nods, scribbling a few more notes. "I cannot speak for the other resources, but Judgement does stress their interest in the affairs of the community, and we hope that you will call on us if you have need." With that, he closes his notebook and smiles, "I believe that concludes this interview."

Thessaloniki says, "Okay. See you again next month, eh?" and grins.

The Dominican tucks the notepad into his inside pocket. "Yes, of course. Do please take care of yourself in the meantime." He nods to the Sword Angel. "Sir." With that, he turns and leaves.

Rosenstern nods and stands. "I'll go get Slate," he says quietly. He nods to the Judge, politely and without rancor, and slips outside as the Dominican leaves.

Shateishael heads outside, and grimly chops wood. He finds it simple, methodical, straightforward, and uncomplicated... a good way to work out frustration at what he sees as undeserved abuse being heaped on his friend.

Later, Rosenstern heads outside towards where he hears the *CRACK*thud* of wood chopping, figuring that it'll lead him to the irritated Stone Angel. "Slate? The domini canes is gone." Before they head back in, Rosenstern embraces Slate briefly and warmly. "Didn't want to do that to you at the Feasting Tables and embarrass you," he says, grinning quietly and tucking his hands back in his pockets. He walks back, mentioning in passing (and out of earshot of the others) that he had run into Aaron McKay at the club where he had the note stuffed into his pocket.

Shateishael looks up, frowning, at Rosie's approach... then blinks, looking initially startled at the hug, then smiling quietly and hugging the smaller Mercurian back, "S'cool, Rosie. Never an embarrassment to give hugs to friends that'll stand with you, guy. Not your fault folks nowadays are all hinky 'bout touch -- the older angels aren't." He nods quietly at the news about Aaron McKay, mentally filing it away for later discussion.

Shateishael stalks back into the living room behind the smaller Mercurian, shirt in hand, and glances around, relaxing slightly once it's clear the irritating Dominican is indeed gone. He's less obviously pissed off but still grim looking as he tosses his shirt at his chair with a sharp gesture, then follows it a moment later, sprawling across the chair with a sighed, "Dipshit. That other Eliite had it right." He frowns for a moment, then obviously dismisses it from his mind, "Hey, Sax. D'you know that rainbow-haired Mercurian that was at the Feasting Tables? He had the wildest color changes... and at the end, his eyes turned red, his wings turned black, and he went absolutely colorless. You know what that was all about?"

Thessaloniki says, "See you then. Be well," to the parting Dominican, and watches him leave, apparently at ease. In a burst of motion -- he's an Ofanite, remember? -- he stands up and strides quickly into the Ranch's half-open kitchen, asking, "Does anybody want anything? Myself, I'm going to make some coffee. Maybe some espresso." Even as he talks, he's produced, from under the counter, a black-and-chrome machine, which he has plugged into the wall.

Shateishael adds as an aside to Nick, "Chopped s'more firewood. I'll stack it later," then calls over his bare shoulder towards the kitchen, "'Nother beer to wash the taste out, Nick, please?"

Sax comes back into the room, holding a small shot glass. Inside it is... something... and it's absolutely rank. He shrugs. "Dunno, big man. Malakites sorta have the market on black wings. Never heard of one doing that Technicolor shtick before. It's usually pretty easy to tell when you're Celestial. If the guy didn't ooze good vibes, maybe he wasn't Mercurian."

As they walk in, Rosie comments about the Mercurian with black wings, "If he even was Eliite, at that. He might not have-" He stops short at the smell of the stuff in the shot glass. "Err...?"

Shateishael nods to Sax, his nose wrinkling, "Man, what are you drinking?!"

Sax grins wanly. "Prairie oyster." He pinches his nose and knocks it back, then shudders violently, getting it down as fast as possible. With his big Hawaiian shirt open over his chest, you can see his Adam's apple working as he fights the gag reflex.

Rosenstern looks about ready to fight a gag reflex himself. Shateishael waves a hand, grinning, his usual good humor returning, "Knew I didn't really wanna know..." He watches in fascinated amusement.

Sax grins again. "Best hangover cure there is."

Merwyn shakes his head softly. "You've not changed, Saxon."

Thessaloniki swiftly grinds and packs coffee into the machine's little steel basket, and snaps it together. He fills the reservoir with water, then flicks a switch. The machine begins to make a quiet 'getting hot' kind of noise. He strides over to Slate with a can of beer, then back to the kitchen, producing a measured glass -- kind of like a shot glass -- and snapping it onto the counter under the machine's spout. He rummages in a cabinet and finds some mugs, filling one with milk. While the machine continues to heat, he drums his fingers on the counter. Ignoring everyone else, he mutters, "One of these days, they're going to make me angry, and I'll say something foolish."

Shateishael accepts the can from Nick, looking up a bit startledly and watching his friend almost march back into the kitchen... then quietly sets the can aside and paces silently into the kitchen, to sit nearby in companionable silence. At Nick's comment he murmurs, "S'my job, dude. You're the even-tempered one." Thessaloniki is distracted by steaming milk, which makes a particularly loud hissing, bubbling noise.

Merwyn folds his hands quietly in his lap. "I take it that young man makes a regular appearance."

Thessaloniki also glances over his shoulder and says to Sax, "Actually, better is to take two B complex vitamins, and 400 milligrams of ibuprofen, and some vitamin C before you drink, and then drink extra water while drinking. You simply won't have a hangover." He grins.

Shateishael grins quietly, then adds to Nick, "You trying to cut in on my cornering the market on overly blunt commentary that no one really wants to hear?" He just nods silently to Merwyn, then goes back to watching Nick with faint worry.

Sax smirks, "If I didn't get a hangover, who'd remind me not to drink?" Rei rolls her eyes. "Merwyn's right. You haven't changed."

Rosenstern glances into the kitchen, letting Nick and Slate discuss things quietly, and nods to Merwyn. "Judgement does that to all of Eli's," he says quietly. "The more so for Nick because they know where he lives."

Thessaloniki turns the coffee and milk into latte and stirs it gently, flicking the switch on the front of the machine, making it brew again. He looks at Merwyn and says, "Yep, he comes around every month or so. They don't trust me. I work for Eli, and I tolerate demons. Pretty much anybody is welcome here, as long as they behave themselves while they're here. Add that I've a stable residence, and that I've been rather mixed up in some confusing things lately, and I'm sure they're quite curious about me."

Merwyn nods. "I know their methods are often quite direct."

Shateishael mutters bitterly, "They dish it out... but they can't take it." He grimaces, then falls silent again.

Merwyn arches one graceful eyebrow, "Pardon?"

Thessaloniki says, "Well, I've only been hauled off by a Triad for Judgement by Dominic himself once. We'll see if it happens again." Rosenstern nods quietly. You don't get more 'direct' than being dragged in front of a Tribunal for heresy by Dominic himself. Thessaloniki sips from the hot coffee, and sighs. It's nice, but it's not quite strong enough to settle his nerves. That's coming.

Merwyn seems a bit surprised by that. "And you are... still here? Then I daresay you've nothing further to fret about. Dominic has never placed an angel in double jeopardy."

Thessaloniki nods, "Still here. He asked me many questions and I answered them, all with the truth, just as I answered his boy wonder today. I didn't even try and evade, as I so often do." Merwyn just nods quietly. Rosenstern looks a little startledly at Nick. He's even more roundabout usually? That must be an education to see!

Shateishael explains, "They're quite direct, but they get snippy if you try to be direct back. You know, the usual intimidation crap-" his voice raises to a falsetto as he tries to imitate the lighter tones of the Judgement angel, "-'you are aware disrespectfulness must be reported' or 'your peculiar attitudes have been noted'..." he waves a hand, adding, "-and they scribble everything down all the time, and lurk, and pry, and poke, and all that crap."

The tall Sword Angel nods again, but says nothing. Shateishael sighs, then adds, "Just once I'd like to be able to talk honestly with one... without feeling like I was on trial for being who I am." Rosie looks to Slate and wonders if the seraph of Stone has ever had a run-in with Judgement before coming to Austin.

Thessaloniki's espresso machine stops again, and he rather casually picks up the shot glass with two shots of espresso in it, says, "Cheers," and downs it all at once. He sighs quietly, and begins putting the machine away.

Merwyn says, "I am afraid that I am unqualified to say much on that subject, though I too bear the burden of being anomalous within my own ranks... perhaps it was serendipity that I was made an Ofanite."

To Rosie, Nick's performance of straight-downing a double espresso at once is almost as startling in and of itself, Nick being an Ofanite or not, as everything that's gone before. Merwyn's confession of being 'anomalous' also garners his attention. Shateishael leans his crossed arms on the counter, and rests his chin on them, watching with a sigh... then asks in idle curiosity, "So... did the Dominican know you, Merwyn? He seemed... more impressed with you than anyone else I've seen hereabouts."

The Sword Angel just smiles. "I am nearly one and half-again his height, and severely dressed. Perhaps he thought I was one of his own here to observe him."

Shateishael snorts amusedly, "Serves him right then." He glances idly down at his shirtless length and grins maliciously, "Maybe I should try that trick... dressing severely."

Thessaloniki is calmed and reassured by the shot of very dense, very hot coffee, and finally relaxes. He chuckles to Merwyn, "Nobody knows quite what to make of an Ofanite, especially one that works differently."

Merwyn smiles apologetically, and with one hand holds his overcoat open a bit more. "You see that I bear no rosary. I am one of the minority in my organization that does not profess Catholicism."

Rosenstern smiles quietly to Nick. He can't argue with that. At Merwyn's confession he glances over, arching an eyebrow a bit. Shateishael gives the Sword angel another curious glance, "Er... is that unusual?" He holds up his hammer on its usual thong about his neck, "I mean... oh, got it." He opens his mouth to comment -- then decides to keep his mouth shut.

Merwyn smiles again to the Stone Angel, "You need not reserve your words for my sake. My master's desires as regard the Catholic Church are well-known."

Shateishael smiles ruefully, shrugging his shoulders, "Was more thinking Dominic would be better served by rooting the corruption out of his favorite religion, for good... than chasing archangels away from Heaven when we most need 'em."

Merwyn says, "I cannot comment upon that, I fear. I have been among humanity so long that I can scarcely comment upon the politics of our home plane." Shateishael puts his hammer back with quiet reverence, then nods to the Sword angel. Rosenstern simply listens, fascinated.

Thessaloniki looks curiously at the other Ofanite and says, "Really? That is interesting. I was never expected to have one particular faith -- ask Eli about monogamy sometime," he snickers at this, "-but it must take some doing to stand on your own beliefs, despite your Superior's preference. You must have a strong reason to do this. I hope it brings you the support and peace you need."

Shateishael murmurs with a quiet grin, "Don't spend much time in Heaven myself either... been hanging out around mortals so long they almost make sense."

Rosenstern glances to Slate, blinking. "Coming from a seraph," he says teasingly, grinning, "-some would say that's 'too long'."

Thessaloniki hehs, "Me too. I've got way too many fun toys to play with here, to spend much time in Heaven." He grins and spins his car keys round one finger some more. It's a nervous habit.

Merwyn laughs softly. "I felt it... a bit awkward, to be honest. I did not know Uriel, as did my master, and lacked my master's boundless devotion. I felt no great attachment to the Catholic Church, nor do I feel great attachment to any faith. I feel that all of them, in their way, support humanity's need for structure in the universe. But we angels -- our relationship with God is less tenuous, and we provide structure for ourselves, do we not?"

Shateishael looks faintly relieved that Nick is back to his usual properly twitchy self as he rises and returns to his previous chair. He laughs aloud at Rosie's comment, grinning, then nods to the Sword angel and says quietly, "Amen." Then he pops the can, throws one leg over the arm of the chair, and relaxes back into it with a contented sigh.

Thessaloniki smiles, "Difficult to sit up all night arguing if there is or is not a God, when you know the answer, yeah. We provide structure for ourselves, and support for each other and the mortals around us. Thus, we do our work." Rosenstern blinks to Merwyn and nods slowly. That... makes sense, actually. He looks to Nick and nods again, leaving unsaid, Well, most of us support each other. Thessaloniki sips his double latte quietly, collecting warmth and buzz from it more gently than the double-shot-slam he did first.

Merwyn mms, "By my very nature, I am made to operate alone... perhaps it has made me independent in my thinking. But I remain ever loyal to my God and to my place in the universe. Though I may not agree with my master in all things, it is not necessary. He is my commander, and in that I will never fail him."

Shateishael nods in silent agreement of Merwyn's assessment of the relationship between angels and their Superiors... works just fine for him. He takes a long sip, sighs quietly again... then asks Merwyn, "So, you know about Trent yet? Nick's got his number if you want... and I was thinking of doing lunch with him or something -- let him know he can call on me if there's need in town to keep the Truce."

Thessaloniki toasts Merwyn with a coffee and says, "And more power to you." To Slate's addition he nods, and says, "There's also Ms. Zara in town; Rosie works for her. She's sort of neutral ground, and will heal folks if they need it. Interesting people. Also the local Judgement folks can get you a local, current ID and stuff, if you'll go by there..." He tries to think of any other things the Wheel should know.

Merwyn nods, "I have been learning the disposition of various forces of The Sword in Texas... I plan to visit as many as I am able and lend my assistance where needed. My kind in service to The Sword have been likened to knights-errant of old... I find that to be more flattering than is necessary, but I cannot deny my nature." He smiles. "None of us can."

Shateishael adds, holding up a finger, "Important note 'bout Ms. Zara -- no violence in her place!" He grins, then has another sip of his beer. Rosenstern nods his head enthusiastically to Slate, grinning quietly. Shateishael grins quietly again at the image of a knight-errant... he thinks he knows what those are, but suspects he should read up on it a bit. He's pretty sure it has to do with that chivalry thing.

The tall Sword nods, "Ah, that would be excellent. I shall have to acquire proper identification before I leave."

Thessaloniki mutters, "And did Judgement tell you this while he was here? No," but only very quietly. Shateishael grins in quiet rue to poor Nick, then nods to the other Ofanite, quickly running through the list of helpful folks he might want to know about. Slate finishes the list with the suggestion that Merwyn get a cellular phone, for ease of communication -- those being very nifty tools Slate's just discovered, thanks to Nick and Rei's suggestions. Then he ahs, as he remembers something else he wanted to check, "By the way, Sax, can I ask a favor of you? Could you give Rosie s'more shooting training? And... does Rei have a close-in weapon? I know Rosie doesn't."

Rosenstern blinks and opens his mouth to say that, why, he doesn't need it -- then shuts his mouth, mindful that in order to actually get that fateful shot in on Vilson, he had to exert himself upon the Symphony; cajole it and nudge it.

Merwyn nods. "I shall look into that, indeed." Sax grins. "Yeah, sure, I can teach the man. Maybe get a little Essence out of it, myself." Rei shakes her head. "Nope, just my little pistol in my backpack. I never use it; I'm pretty good at keeping my surprisingly curvaceous behind out of that kind of trouble." She smirks, "Other trouble, on the other hand..."

Merwyn opens his mouth, then closes it again. Rei giggles softly, and winks at Merwyn. The tall angel's light complexion darkens just a shade. Thessaloniki says, to Rei, very cheerfully, "Tease," and grins. Rosenstern, politely and out of consideration of the fact that anything he could say would probably come out completely wrong, says not a thing, instead finding fascination with a ceiling tile.

Shateishael snickers at Rei, then says more seriously, "You sure, Rei? I'm not talking a stand-up-fight weapon... I'm talking like a kaiken -- a slash-and-run weapon. Gonna make one for Rosie, and I'd be happy to make one for you too if you want."

Rosenstern coughs a little and remembers to say, "Ah... thank you, Sax, I'd definitely appreciate it."

The Bright grins. "Okay, big man. I'd be honored." Sax shrugs at Rosenstern, "Don't mention it, I'm getting something out of it too."

Rosenstern blinks to Shateishael. "A... pardon? I'm sorry? A Kay-ee-ken?"

Shateishael nods, looking faintly relieved, "No problem, Rei. I just wanna be sure all my friends are as prepared as possible if any Samingans come nosing around." To Rosie he nods, explaining, "Kaiken, Rosie. Women used to carry a little, short, slashing dagger, a tanto, in a brocade bag tucked into their obi, during the Edo period. It was for self-defense, and was called kaiken. It works for non-combatants just as well, today... and I know you'd prefer to stay out of fights."

Rosenstern ohs! and nods. "I think I see. Gosh, thank you, Slate!"

Shateishael holds up his fingers about six inches apart, "'Bout this long, no cross on it. Also, I need to get my hand back into weaponsmithing, or I'll be embarrassed next time I go visit Masamune sensei in Heaven." He grins, adding, "No problem, Rosie... just stay out of trouble, 'kay?"

Rosenstern grins cheerfully. "As best as I can, I will, Slate."

Merwyn mms, "Interesting. You are a smith, then? Do you have any examples of your work here?"

Thessaloniki chuckles as Slate starts to talk shop, and rummages some more in the kitchen. Shateishael nods, handing over the scabbarded wakizashi, "Yup. This is part of a daisho. Can't hold a candle to my sensei's artistry, I'm afraid... but it's passable for now, I think." He looks interested, "So... are you a smith also?"

Merwyn nods appraisingly, unsheathing a few inches of the blade. "This is fine workmanship." He smiles apologetically, "I must confess that I am not... but what angel of The Sword does not take an interest in blades?"

Shateishael smiles politely at the compliment, but doesn't comment, since he's got no idea if Merwyn's actually knowledgeable about sword making or not. He chuckles quietly at Merwyn's words, "Good point." Then he holds up the hammer on the thong about his neck, adding, "I do pragmatic work too... stuff communities need to survive." He adds a little wistfully, "Not much call for that anymore, though."

Merwyn carefully offers the blade back. "A shame, that. I would be saddened to see smithying become a lost art."

Shateishael accepts the blade back, settling it neatly next to the katana he'd been working on earlier, and nods, "Yah, me too. That's why I went looking to apprentice with the best sword maker I could find, in fact -- didn't want it to be lost." He realizes with some amused internal interest that he's actually rather looking forward to working at the forge again... he's missed that, more than he realized.

Merwyn nods. "Indeed. Have you cause to wield the blade much? I understand that Stone is fond of more... forceful weaponry." Shateishael laughs! Merwyn ahs, "Have I spoken amiss?"

Shateishael grins at Merwyn over the beer can, his eyes dancing with amusement, "Man, you have an even more formal turn of phrase than Rosie here does on a good day!" He chuckles, then adds, "Swords are my weapon of choice, and yes I can get quite forceful with them if necessary, and no you didn't." He wonders with idle amusement if his Japanese is now as interestingly, archaically out of date as some of Merwyn's careful courtesies in English.

It actually takes a moment for Rosie to realize Slate spoke his name. Rosenstern blinks a bit, grinning to Slate and half-bows in his seat, then he shakes his head to clear it. "Er... Nick, I hate to impose, but may I lie down in a spare room for a few hours?"

Thessaloniki smiles and says, "No problem, Rosie. Or the hot tub." He gestures easily.

Rei mmhmms. "Hot tub. Whaddya say, Sax?" Sax grins. "I'm already there."

Shateishael chuckles again. Thessaloniki comments, "I told you she'd wind up in the hot tub, didn't I, Slate?" and grins.

Shateishael grins lazily at his friend, "Don't scare her away, Nick."

Rei grins and shrugs. "I don't scare that easy."

Shateishael chuckles quietly again. Thessaloniki grins and says, "Lucky me!" Shateishael rolls his eyes in amusement, and just shakes his head again with a grin.

Rosenstern smiles quietly. "That sounds great, Nick, thanks!" He blinks at the sudden spread of the idea of the hot tub, but certainly isn't going to complain. He even manages, for a few hours, to put away the troublesome questions of the odd angel at the Feast, and the bad ecstasy on the streets of Austin.

Shateishael watches Rei, Rosie, and Sax leave with an almost sleepy gaze... then, once they're gone, he sits up with alert interest. "Okay, so what really happened on your quest?"

Merwyn arches that brow again. "You know that I would not lie to the Most Holy."

Thessaloniki says, "Nor would I lie to Judgement. However, that doesn't mean I answered their questions."

Shateishael gets an amused look, "Didn't think you did, Wheel of the Sword. Are we being formal for a reason? Thought maybe you were being polite while there was a lady present." He grins at Nick, adding, "Took poor Nick almost a century to hammer the peculiar new attitudes about women being helpless twits into my head." He grins at Nick's outraged look, "Kidding! Kidding, dude... just the new stuff about raising one's hat and bowing and not being able to fight for themselves and all that stuff."

Merwyn shrugs a bit. "What transpired in Japan these thirty-two years hence, was a bad business. You're certain you wish to know?"

Shateishael looks curiously at Merwyn, "Why would I not?"

The Sword Angel folds his hands in his lap again. "As you wish. At that time, there were five of us. Saxon, Rei, two angels of Fire -- a male and a female by shape -- and myself. We had found each other quite by accident, investigating a series of leads peculiar to ourselves. Saxon had come in search of the Other Side, for a Malakite passing through the area had sworn that he sensed the presence of the Balseraphs but was pressed and could not remain to pinpoint the source. Rei had come investigating a series of peculiar financial transactions. The Fire Angels had been tracking a rash of disappearances. And I for my part had wandered into the area in search of some wrong to right, having just come from Laos and a small conflict that I had taken part in, and lacking a clear mission."

Shateishael nods in silent interest, sipping his drink as he listens. Thessaloniki also listens, drinking latte and leaning against the kitchen counter. Merwyn continues. "We had all arrived in the same place. It was a fraudulent educational institution. It was all... quite sordid. The headmistress belonged to Lust, and was doing..." He pauses. "Well. I'm certain you can imagine what she did with the students."

The Sword Angel sighs bitterly. "What we learned in the course of investigating was that she was selling her favorites, conditioning their minds and then selling them to officials in the prefecture... in exchange for keeping the constabulary at bay, and for political favors. It was nothing more than an elaborate ring of slavers."

Shateishael winces, looking repulsed, but doesn't interrupt. Thessaloniki says, "Unpleasant, indeed."

Merwyn frowns. There are deep lines that seam his cheeks, and it would appear that he has worn this expression often. "What we only learned upon confronting her, was how long she had been operating and how prolifically. She gloated that we would never find the ones that had been sold already, and that her clients would thwart any such effort. The Fire Angels... then dispensed summary justice."

Shateishael thinks grimly, Good, but again doesn't interrupt. Thessaloniki sighs, and says, "Sounds like you had your work cut out. How did you fare?"

Shateishael sits up suddenly, "Your quest! You found them all?! That's wonderful!" He adds in quiet amazement, "Thirty years searching... that's quite some quest."

Merwyn studies the floor for a moment. "Rei had uncovered the transaction records. We compared them with police reports and were able to determine that they were accurate. We had a list of the victims, some twenty-nine in all. It was... a hard business, for those first months, discovering the poor wrecks that the innocents had become. What one of the Fire Angels saw in the home of one of the 'clients' so incensed him that he flung the guilty mortal through a window on the twenty-first floor of a building, and left the building ashen and shaking."

Shateishael sighs internally, listening. Guess I should have realized it wouldn't be that easy... Thessaloniki thinks of some of the horrors he saw the 'enlightened' white man do to the natives as they spread across the 'new' nation, and says, "But, you pressed on?"

Merwyn sighs. "Rei would not let me see what had happened... she insisted that she be able to treat the victim alone. She restored the girl to the authorities by herself. To this day, I dare not speak of it to her... she wept at the slightest provocation for two days after."

"But... yes. We pressed on. As time passed, Saxon and Rei grew closer, and we recovered as many of the victims as we could together. But, emergent situations in the War required the members of our little association to come away. I swore to the members of our circle that I would never return to Heaven until I had located the last victim... in deference both to the victims, and to the unfinished work of my friends."

Shateishael nods gravely, then says quietly, "I'm glad you succeeded."

Merwyn nods softly. "I had almost despaired of finding the final girl... I had scoured the entire Pacific Rim for her. Her... 'owner'," and here Merwyn practically spits the word on the floor, "-had realized what was happening, as I left no 'client' unpunished, nor had Saxon or the Fire Angels. He made my life very difficult indeed, and I had already located eleven poor wretches on my own." He smiles, "Ask Saxon sometime of the man he caught in the bathhouse. It is a... satisfying tale."

Shateishael nods quietly again, although he feels no particular compulsion to do so. He's glad the few horrors he's seen were more straightforward abuses done by mortals to other mortals, in an effort to survive in a rough and difficult world... rather than demonically inspired viciousness.

Merwyn says, "When I found her at last, back in Japan after I had chased them for so long..." He shakes his head. "It was a horrible thing to see. She did not remember her name nor her home, and her parents only dimly. She was nothing more than... a mere toy for a debased man."

The Sword frowns again. "The worst of it was that when I came for her 'owner', she thought me some sort of evil specter... after all, I had come into the house to do harm to the man she knew as her master. She was... terrified of me." He sighs. "And I suppose that I cannot blame her. In our aspect we can all seem terrible to humans, can we not?"

Shateishael thinks for a while, then says quietly, "I... don't know, Merwyn. I don't see myself that way, even though I know others might see me so." Hesmiles humorlessly as he shrugs, not sure how to explain his perspective on mortals and how he tries to not scare them... he finally says slowly, "I... I've had foster kids for a while, Merwyn, during seasons of starvation or plague." Merwyn nods, listening.

Shateishael is silent for a moment, thinking about the few Lust demons he knows of... Marius, the Impudite, who was terrified by the lies he'd been taught about angels, and Lauren, the Lilim, who wasn't just terrified but also terribly beaten for her demon lord's enjoyment... he shudders slightly, and wonders if there's really hope for them, or if they're just as shattered, in their own way, as the poor mortals they shatter in turn... then he simply quietly repeats, "I'm glad you succeeded, finally."

Merwyn nods. "I returned her, in the end, to her parents. I do not know if she will ever heal, but I know that she is with those that will care for her." He smiles sheepishly, "I had grown into the habit of investigating the parents as well, just... to be certain."

Shateishael nods, unsurprised. He's lived in cultures where children were sometimes sold, in desperate efforts to keep them alive when the parents could not. Merwyn says, "I eventually learned what it was that Rei refused to let us see, what had driven the Fire Angel to fling that moral off the building." Shateishael watches silently, guessing that was information the weary Sword angel wishes he could forget.

Merwyn says, "I know now that she would not allow me to know, because she knew that it would have made me despair of finding the last victims. The girl that Rei had helped was improperly... conditioned. She recognized still that she was being treated as an animal... she had been so badly used, mutilated even, that she was in the very process of attempting to end her own life."

Shateishael sighs softly. Merwyn takes a deep breath. "She was not the only one who had tried. That is why I say I cannot guess when or if the wounds will heal... but I console myself with the knowledge that I have done everything that is within my power."

Shateishael rumbles gently, "It's all you really can do, Merwyn. You were true to your nature... you can't do better than that."

Merwyn nods. "Indeed. And these images are still fresh with me... perhaps with time, I will come to some greater conclusion."

Shateishael thinks a bit, then says thoughtfully, "When I'm troubled, and I don't want to disturb my lord... I go climbing." He looks at the Sword angel, "Do you have a hobby you love?"

The Sword Angel smiles. "I have had little time for indulging my sword arm in the years of my quest. Perhaps sometime, you will allow me to impose upon you for a sparring match."

Shateishael grins slowly, "Well, now... I think maybe I can do one better than that." He looks pleased, adding, "Have you heard of the Old Guy? -the Seneschal of Treaty Oak? I've been training with him on a weekly basis. Would you like to come along some time?"

Merwyn's smile grows a bit, "Perhaps I shall do that. It would be a pleasant distraction before I concern myself with the duties of the present... now that those of the past are laid to rest."

Shateishael says, "Good. I'd be real pleased to bring someone else to see the Old Guy... I think he's kinda lonely. I understand why -- most everyone avoids him a bit guiltily, since he's the only Malachite in town, and doesn't know about the Truce -- but still, dammit, he is part of our community, and I'm not giving up on that."

Merwyn says, "Most admirable of you. Perhaps the work of Stone is just what is called for in a city of factions."

Shateishael adds with a slight smile, "He tells great stories. Can you believe it... he remembers dinosaurs!" He tilts his head to regard Merwyn with slight puzzlement, unsure if he's being teased or not. Although sometimes I think it'd be a damn sight more useful in Heaven, he thinks ruefully... then sighs internally, wishing he believed strict honesty really was the best policy with Judgement.

Merwyn laughs quietly. "I have heard of this Malakite. It would not do for me to leave Austin before paying my respects to him."

Shateishael raises an inquiring eyebrow at the Sword angel, "Might be nice. What's so funny?"

Merwyn shakes his head. "Nothing. But the dinosaur tales have preceded him."

Shateishael ahs, and nods. Then he sighs quietly, wondering idly if he'll ever see either Lauren or Marius again... then thoughtfully asks, "So... you gonna be able to deal with meeting any of Lust's folks in town? -or would that be bad?"

Merwyn says, "I will comport myself in accordance with the Truce. You need not fear an incident from me."

Shateishael nods, "Just asking. Don't have any problem with making sure some folks stay out of other folks' way, to help keep the peace."

Merwyn nods. "I shall not be making trouble for you during my stay. I am indebted to your friend for his hospitality."

Shateishael smiles relaxedly, "Wasn't expecting trouble. And yes, Nick's the greatest. The rest of us try to make sure the house and grounds stay neat and nice for him, to say thanks."

Merwyn nods. "I shall remember that."

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