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Post by Faith on Mar 25, 2007 15:26:35 GMT -5
*Faye calmly walked through the wall from the coffeeroom to kitchen, not even bothering to open the door as she'd had to when she lived. The kitchen was silent and empty, and the fire merely ashes in the hearth, as the dead had no need of food nor warmth. Company and setting, now--she could still provide. Le Rouge et L'Epine was, to all appearances, a desolate place, shut up and silent. To the living, it appeared abandoned. To the dead, it was a place to gather amongst their own. Faye still ran the inn with her sweet-natured hospitality, and welcomed any who were able to look beyond death to come and sit a while in her open home.*
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Post by Will Shakespeare on Mar 25, 2007 15:28:11 GMT -5
*staggers in, transparent yet bleeding from a wound to his abdomen.* "Strange girl stabbed me. No reason. And I was about to write this really great play, which in years to come would be studied, revered and turned into a Disney feature film involving lions upon the Serengeti!" *sits, or floats above a chair in any case, and mopes by the dark, cold hearth.*
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Post by meta on Apr 20, 2007 12:10:49 GMT -5
*Metatron sat at a table in the corner, sipping and spitting tequila in small glasses.*
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Post by Death on Apr 20, 2007 12:17:17 GMT -5
*Death hadn’t been this conflicted in a while. He just really needed to get out of the house for a bit. Der Tod’s dance troupe was giving him a headache. And he was thankful to have a place to go where people wouldn’t look at him too odd. He walked in and looked around. Place looks pretty dead…oh yeah. Right. But he did notice a familiar face, one he hadn’t seen in a long time. Death glided over to him, his cloak furling into the shadows.*
“Hello again, Herald. It’s been a while. Is this seat taken?”
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Post by meta on Apr 20, 2007 12:21:23 GMT -5
((For a second I was like--"did you just call me Harold?"))
*Metatron looked up, nearly smiling at his colleague, and gestured to the chair.*
"Of course not. 'Sbeen ages...or at least an age. Last I saw you, the Plague was beginning to kick into high gear and work was madly busy. How've you been?"
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Post by Death on Apr 20, 2007 12:26:08 GMT -5
((Yeah, me too. But I wasn’t sure if they were on a first name basis. )) *Death shrugged and took a seat. His voice was tired.* “No recent plagues…but work is pretty much work. I’m just tired.” *He looked up, with a hint of hope.* “You know? How has work been for you?”
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Post by meta on Apr 20, 2007 12:29:22 GMT -5
*Metatron raised an eyebrow.*
"Is the line up of tequila shots any indication, or need I get into detail?"
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Post by Death on Apr 20, 2007 12:35:57 GMT -5
*Death smiled slightly. It was nice that Metatron still had his wit. He lifted his bony fingers, requesting another round. Then he looked back to the herald.*
“Well if misery loves company…I would hate for you to drink…or spit, alone.”
*As the first round of drinks arrived, Death held up one to Metatron.*
“So what are we commiserating today?”
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Post by meta on Apr 20, 2007 12:38:30 GMT -5
*Metatron sighed and raised his glass.*
"I'm getting soft in my old age. Getting my nose out of joint over these silly humans."
*He sighed and rubbed his brow.*
"Accidents happen, I know that, but I can't help feeling responsible."
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Post by Death on Apr 20, 2007 12:40:21 GMT -5
*Death shot the tequila and winced.*
“I know exactly what you mean. What’s your case?”
*He took the next glass in his hand.*
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Post by meta on Apr 20, 2007 13:23:00 GMT -5
*Metatron shrugged.*
"Nothing spectacular...just a very nice woman. A Vianne Giry-Blakeney. Her life up until now's been a convoluted chain of wangst rather...unhappy. She stood a chance of happiness at this point, and now..."
*He took a mouthful of tequila and spat it out a moment later.*
"Safe to say it's all gone to shit. It was a stupid mistake."
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Post by Death on Apr 20, 2007 13:27:23 GMT -5
*Death looked up, surprised for a moment.*
“Well, in that case, fear not…I think you may not be able to take complete fault for that one. I seem to be carrying it heavily these days. Demiselle seems most unhappy with me about it. But what can I do? She killed herself right? I didn’t put her on the list. And now she wants me to go get Vianne…”
*Takes the second shot and shakes it off.*
“As if I could. Both sides are watching everything I do. I’m sure they’d notice something like that. They’d have my wings for it…or, you know, my whatever.”
*He stared at the third shot, rolling the glass in his bony fingers.*
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Post by meta on Apr 20, 2007 13:37:29 GMT -5
*Metatron frowned, rubbing his chin for a moment, silent as the only sound was the rattle of bone against glass.*
"Hang on a tic. Let me get this straight... Now, as a seraphim, it's not exactly fitting for me to waltz down into Hell and make demands."
*He rolled his eyes.*
"Lucifer would never let me live that one down. But you..."
*He leaned back and took another sip of tequila before spitting it out. He shook his finger at Death.*
"You. I can get you clearance. I've got some favours owed me...and if you're acting under the Metatron's orders...well...the higher-ups could hardly penalize you for it."
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Post by Death on Apr 20, 2007 13:41:31 GMT -5
*Death looked him over shrewdly. The tequila was starting to kick in, but just a bit.*
“What exactly are you proposing, sir?”
*Just because Metatron was a nice guy didn’t mean that he would think twice about getting Death in trouble if it served his purpose.*
“I’m I going to need more tequila for this?”
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Post by meta on Apr 20, 2007 13:48:04 GMT -5
*Metatron spread his hands wide.*
"What, don't you trust me? I'm an ANGEL for crying out loud. Dispensing with professional integrity would mean a lot more than my job; it'd be my ass in a sling and eternity spent in Wisconsin."
*He shuddered delicately at the thought.*
"Now--all I'm saying is that I can get you into Hell to see her and try and work something out. Once you're there, I can't help you. Any ideas? I mean, her death was an accident and rated as suicide on a technicality. Perhaps you could plead infirmity of mind or something, considering that she didn't know what she was doing until it was too late."
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