- May 26, 2010
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- US-Libertarian
The night air was oppressing and yet felt clearer to a passerby than it normally would in the months that transitioned between summer and autumn. The street lights had turned on hours ago and no one rushed to purchase last minute supplies for a party or to the store to get a midnight snack. It felt like a ghost town to one unused to ever being awake at a time when one would normally be sleeping, but at least a few people were night owls in this town.
They were like shadows almost, slowly walking, one with a slow, purposeful pace and the other more focused on their feet than on the road in front of them. Eventually they were close enough they could see each other’s faces, but neither looked towards the other. In an instant, they passed by each other, like would usually happen if one either didn’t want to talk, was in a hurry, or was unfamiliar and didn’t like to behave in such a personal way to a stranger.
Both people stopped abruptly after a few steps past their point of contact.
The first to turn revealed a somewhat gaunt and somewhat disturbing face, grinning slightly as he pulled out a toothpick, sticking it gingerly in his mouth, letting it hang to appear unconcerned and yet focused on his mark. Though he was certainly not one you would tend to stand near for long. Even his attire suggested he didn’t care much for hygiene or at least not for social propriety, a rough t shirt, loose cargo slacks and a long coat, not nearly a trench coat, but at least to his thighs.
Though the other person, simply turning and facing him, dropping any pretense of secrecy, didn’t seem to care either, dressing especially eccentrically and blending fashions, an ankh draped over her neck, plunging into her cleavage, held together by a combination of a corset and blouse, concluded by unpresuming sandals and a medium length skirt.
“Nice night, huh?” the male stranger inquired as he decided to face the woman, twisting his neck as it popped and he held out a hand in friendship.
“What’s nice about the night?” she responded as she looked unaffectedly at his outstretched hand.
“Don’t be like that, Lucifel…No one’s gonna see us anyway, just drop the tough girl act.” The man sighed a bit as his outfit warped a bit, suddenly replaced by a contrasting gray and black outfit, the only visible parts of his body initially being his head and bared forearms, the rest of his blending into the shadows for a moment before coming into focus, a tighter dress shirt and black pants with a more formal appearance. His eyes now glowed with an eerie violet shade as he smirked.
“No need to use those names, though you are right, we are alone, Satanel” her outfit was replaced by a more revealing garb, contrasting green and purple, her hips and sides bared, her chest and torso all the way from her neck to the ground covered by a long cloth, which adjusted a few inches above her ankles as she shrugged her shoulders, her own eyes deep red.
“You could just call me the usual names, like Tempter, Deceiver and the like. Hell, even something like the Adversary would be fun, however unconvincing it is… You make it sound like we’re enemies or something, you know we’re both on the council and differ very little on these supernatural politics…”
“Too true,” she responded with a sardonic grin, quickly reverting to her emotionless and jaded mask she commonly used even in the presence of the Ineffable, however blasphemous or insensitive it seemed to others like Samael…
“So then, why are we both crossing this street and meeting like this? We’re usually in completely different areas of the creation anyway, why do we cross paths tonight?”
“I wonder…” Lucifel responded as she sighed, “I’m getting away from Lucifer as usual…yourself?”
“I tend to escape from the whole ‘Council of 12’ responsibilities all the time anyway, I’m the one more commonly running amok, you’re the good girl as it were…”
“Not always,” she responded, shaking her head, ”you know we’re two of the only members who’re confident enough to called Elohim by name instead of the usual title…even Samael isn’t that confident and he’s the one that is the new favorite since the older generation has fallen to the wayside with the new generation arising and all.”
Satanel’s eyes seemed distant as he nodded, shrugging his shoulders as well, knowing the irony of her statement. As young as he appeared to his protégés, there was clearly a feeling of wisdom, of experience that hung around him no matter how he strived to escape it.
“So, you are running away? Or did you have something to speak on? The elections are soon, I know, but you shouldn’t worry.” His tone changed after his pause, becoming more serious for a moment “Samael won’t become the Mediator and even he knows it. You’ve got the qualities he doesn’t that the Mediator requires,” And in an instant, he shifted back to his cherubic smirk, “Like a sense of humor…”
“What of a sense of compassion, though,” Lucifel responded, trailing off at the last word, contemplating again the severity of her responsibility towards those that didn’t even believe. She only blinked, but the tears were always difficult to hold back.
The older seraph stepped closer, placing his hand gently on her shoulder, comforting her in his own way. He wouldn’t embrace her…he knew what feelings that tended to bring up in her. Resentment, even hatred towards her own relative, the Lightbringer as the humans called him. Giving enlightenment to the creation wasn’t satisfactory enough of an excuse and now…
“It takes time for all of us to develop it. Even the old man didn’t just love the world all at once…he loved what he created…he didn’t love what actually existed until he took a closer look. Until he saw the feelings from within that they experienced, the challenges they faced. At that point, he knew he had to do something to make up for past mistakes of his childhood…And in that instant, the Council was formed.
He required one to manage the world, to communicate with the humans and to tempt them. The Trinity of Authority was original an idea in his head, he told me… Not until he saw the strengths and weaknesses in it that complemented the structure of the council did he decide that it needed to come to being.” Heaving another long sigh, he turned behind him and paused a moment as if he had heard something in the bushes, but he brushed it off as he turned to face her again, “I think we should wrap this up…looks like we’ve got company coming. And for once, it’s not the doctors coming to take me away,” he grinned again as he motioned for Lucifel to follow him, dragging their pursuers after them, however short the chase might be.
The air quivered, shook and then crackled with energy as the two messengers appeared in a flash of lightning and smoke. They mirrored each other, gender, appearance, dress and even facial features seeming to be refracted images of the other.
“They are not here…” the one on the left spoke, a lilting and graceful tone, supplanted by the smooth and rounded face.
“So it appears...” responded the right messenger, a deeper and more forceful sound, squared and angular face pushing the image forward.
“Should we follow, Metatron?” The inquiry was strange and yet made sense to one who did a double take, seeing that the mirroring was not simply an act; neither of the two seemed to move with the other’s consent. Not an eye twitched, not a muscle moved without another mimicking it.
Metatron’s eyes narrowed, his partner’s following as he replied, “Why wouldn’t we, Sandalphon?” He kept as stoic as possible, starkly contrasting the innocent half that seemed transfixed in her own similar stereotypical façade.
The air was separated again and as quickly as they appeared, the two were gone, even the sound of them leaving happening in one instant, not in two.
Lucifel and Satanel had warped to a new area; still where humans might potentially be able to see them and yet the risk was small considering most humans who did see them would tend to attribute them as demons or simply night illusions from insomnia. The two now walked side by side and kept a normal distance, but always glanced in each others’ direction to confirm that they still walked by them.
Lucifel had become even more withdrawn and concealed herself more, only detectable by intense concentration or
mere sensory recognition. Any release of her spirit was unconscious, being a high-ranking seraph, but she was conscious and focused enough to keep herself appearing to any bystander as a normal human, with no special qualities whatsoever.
Satanel on the other hand, was free and recognizable by any human who happened to walk by them, though the amount of power he released wasn’t too severe, for if he let all his energy out constantly, a human walking by them would either be severely injured physically, mentally incapacitated and in some cases, if not most, completely vaporized.
They were like shadows almost, slowly walking, one with a slow, purposeful pace and the other more focused on their feet than on the road in front of them. Eventually they were close enough they could see each other’s faces, but neither looked towards the other. In an instant, they passed by each other, like would usually happen if one either didn’t want to talk, was in a hurry, or was unfamiliar and didn’t like to behave in such a personal way to a stranger.
Both people stopped abruptly after a few steps past their point of contact.
The first to turn revealed a somewhat gaunt and somewhat disturbing face, grinning slightly as he pulled out a toothpick, sticking it gingerly in his mouth, letting it hang to appear unconcerned and yet focused on his mark. Though he was certainly not one you would tend to stand near for long. Even his attire suggested he didn’t care much for hygiene or at least not for social propriety, a rough t shirt, loose cargo slacks and a long coat, not nearly a trench coat, but at least to his thighs.
Though the other person, simply turning and facing him, dropping any pretense of secrecy, didn’t seem to care either, dressing especially eccentrically and blending fashions, an ankh draped over her neck, plunging into her cleavage, held together by a combination of a corset and blouse, concluded by unpresuming sandals and a medium length skirt.
“Nice night, huh?” the male stranger inquired as he decided to face the woman, twisting his neck as it popped and he held out a hand in friendship.
“What’s nice about the night?” she responded as she looked unaffectedly at his outstretched hand.
“Don’t be like that, Lucifel…No one’s gonna see us anyway, just drop the tough girl act.” The man sighed a bit as his outfit warped a bit, suddenly replaced by a contrasting gray and black outfit, the only visible parts of his body initially being his head and bared forearms, the rest of his blending into the shadows for a moment before coming into focus, a tighter dress shirt and black pants with a more formal appearance. His eyes now glowed with an eerie violet shade as he smirked.
“No need to use those names, though you are right, we are alone, Satanel” her outfit was replaced by a more revealing garb, contrasting green and purple, her hips and sides bared, her chest and torso all the way from her neck to the ground covered by a long cloth, which adjusted a few inches above her ankles as she shrugged her shoulders, her own eyes deep red.
“You could just call me the usual names, like Tempter, Deceiver and the like. Hell, even something like the Adversary would be fun, however unconvincing it is… You make it sound like we’re enemies or something, you know we’re both on the council and differ very little on these supernatural politics…”
“Too true,” she responded with a sardonic grin, quickly reverting to her emotionless and jaded mask she commonly used even in the presence of the Ineffable, however blasphemous or insensitive it seemed to others like Samael…
“So then, why are we both crossing this street and meeting like this? We’re usually in completely different areas of the creation anyway, why do we cross paths tonight?”
“I wonder…” Lucifel responded as she sighed, “I’m getting away from Lucifer as usual…yourself?”
“I tend to escape from the whole ‘Council of 12’ responsibilities all the time anyway, I’m the one more commonly running amok, you’re the good girl as it were…”
“Not always,” she responded, shaking her head, ”you know we’re two of the only members who’re confident enough to called Elohim by name instead of the usual title…even Samael isn’t that confident and he’s the one that is the new favorite since the older generation has fallen to the wayside with the new generation arising and all.”
Satanel’s eyes seemed distant as he nodded, shrugging his shoulders as well, knowing the irony of her statement. As young as he appeared to his protégés, there was clearly a feeling of wisdom, of experience that hung around him no matter how he strived to escape it.
“So, you are running away? Or did you have something to speak on? The elections are soon, I know, but you shouldn’t worry.” His tone changed after his pause, becoming more serious for a moment “Samael won’t become the Mediator and even he knows it. You’ve got the qualities he doesn’t that the Mediator requires,” And in an instant, he shifted back to his cherubic smirk, “Like a sense of humor…”
“What of a sense of compassion, though,” Lucifel responded, trailing off at the last word, contemplating again the severity of her responsibility towards those that didn’t even believe. She only blinked, but the tears were always difficult to hold back.
The older seraph stepped closer, placing his hand gently on her shoulder, comforting her in his own way. He wouldn’t embrace her…he knew what feelings that tended to bring up in her. Resentment, even hatred towards her own relative, the Lightbringer as the humans called him. Giving enlightenment to the creation wasn’t satisfactory enough of an excuse and now…
“It takes time for all of us to develop it. Even the old man didn’t just love the world all at once…he loved what he created…he didn’t love what actually existed until he took a closer look. Until he saw the feelings from within that they experienced, the challenges they faced. At that point, he knew he had to do something to make up for past mistakes of his childhood…And in that instant, the Council was formed.
He required one to manage the world, to communicate with the humans and to tempt them. The Trinity of Authority was original an idea in his head, he told me… Not until he saw the strengths and weaknesses in it that complemented the structure of the council did he decide that it needed to come to being.” Heaving another long sigh, he turned behind him and paused a moment as if he had heard something in the bushes, but he brushed it off as he turned to face her again, “I think we should wrap this up…looks like we’ve got company coming. And for once, it’s not the doctors coming to take me away,” he grinned again as he motioned for Lucifel to follow him, dragging their pursuers after them, however short the chase might be.
***
The air quivered, shook and then crackled with energy as the two messengers appeared in a flash of lightning and smoke. They mirrored each other, gender, appearance, dress and even facial features seeming to be refracted images of the other.
“They are not here…” the one on the left spoke, a lilting and graceful tone, supplanted by the smooth and rounded face.
“So it appears...” responded the right messenger, a deeper and more forceful sound, squared and angular face pushing the image forward.
“Should we follow, Metatron?” The inquiry was strange and yet made sense to one who did a double take, seeing that the mirroring was not simply an act; neither of the two seemed to move with the other’s consent. Not an eye twitched, not a muscle moved without another mimicking it.
Metatron’s eyes narrowed, his partner’s following as he replied, “Why wouldn’t we, Sandalphon?” He kept as stoic as possible, starkly contrasting the innocent half that seemed transfixed in her own similar stereotypical façade.
The air was separated again and as quickly as they appeared, the two were gone, even the sound of them leaving happening in one instant, not in two.
***
Lucifel and Satanel had warped to a new area; still where humans might potentially be able to see them and yet the risk was small considering most humans who did see them would tend to attribute them as demons or simply night illusions from insomnia. The two now walked side by side and kept a normal distance, but always glanced in each others’ direction to confirm that they still walked by them.
Lucifel had become even more withdrawn and concealed herself more, only detectable by intense concentration or
mere sensory recognition. Any release of her spirit was unconscious, being a high-ranking seraph, but she was conscious and focused enough to keep herself appearing to any bystander as a normal human, with no special qualities whatsoever.
Satanel on the other hand, was free and recognizable by any human who happened to walk by them, though the amount of power he released wasn’t too severe, for if he let all his energy out constantly, a human walking by them would either be severely injured physically, mentally incapacitated and in some cases, if not most, completely vaporized.
