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CS Worlds Destroyed Chapter 13

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CHAPTER 13

Ascending into heaven eased my transition  by exactly nothing, I can tell you that.
Ground was below my feet, and instantly I was fighting.  Blind. Something held around my arms- I knocked my head against it, shoving myself away. White; I couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything, I stumbled against something that bit into my shins, taking a step over it to be shredded by up my other leg.  Grunting in pain I kicked through it, deep cuts in one leg; a structure, a wall of some sort.

"Raziel!"  I called again; my eyesight was barely registering shadows, some blurry masses against the wall to my left.  I tore it away in a desperate attempt to find something sturdy as a hand grabbed my wrist, stronger this time. I struggled once, putting all my force into it and pulling away, punching into the wall in front of me with over-force.  "Raz…" I huffed in breath, grabbing a handful of this wall and pulling it away, trying to tear through, seeing more shadows, vague blueish colors.   Ambush! Attack! Out of one hell and into another.

There was someone to my left, stance like a cactus, ready to attack.  I jumped back, stumbled, fell into another object; metal, thin and tall.  My horns put two holes in the wall and locked there; metal suddenly pressed against my throat , something sharp.  I froze,  finally stopping enough to breathe.  Gasping for air I kept my head very still, blinking hard, trying to clear my vision, looking around.  I knew to be very still when someone had a knife to my throat. Knew not to make any sudden movements.  Sound returned first, mumbled, inaudible before popping to words pretty quickly through the white, underdeveloped haze.

"….kuh….eght….ud domn tou Noya, stot busting my shit you crazy wench!"  I squinted with a sneer; knowing that voice for certain.  

"Michael?" I questioned, coughing out as that sword didn't ease from my throat a hair.

"YEAH, Michael, you wrecking ball of a…" he trailed off;  Vision was still hazy and blurred; I heard him mutter something quickly with his hand to my eyes. Vision popped in crystal clear as he let go, both of us still huffing for breath. After an uneasy stare to make sure we were all set, he dropped the sword, hand to his knees as I got a look around. "Thanks for wrecking my shit! That's what I get for saving your ass? God….dammit."  He walked away slowly, shaking his head, breathing as fast as I had been and letting the sword slide out of his hands in exhaustion.

I was inside. A house. A very tall, elaborate house; Michael was heading for what looked like a kitchen/ nook area tiredly, somewhat angry and probably just as rattled by my actions as I was. Rubbing my eyes once I took a step away from the wall, really noticing the damage I had incurred.  It was a mess;  tables broken, picture frames destroyed. My enemies, mere objects  i retaliated on lay crumbled and broken- i felt an awful twinge of guilt.  Too high strung. Too worried, too freaked out to just use a little reasoning.  I'd grown used to the world fighting me tooth and nail that I couldn't recognize a peaceful scenario when it bit me in the face. Eyes downcast, ashamed, I lowered my hands and stood there.

Back to Michael his eyes were furious and sharp, confused;  he kept a cold stare on me, sarcastically watching my moves as I remained motionless, "Do I need to send you back, or are you going to tear up the entire inside of my house?"  My ears slid back as I grabbed the crumpled lamp next to me, holding it in my hands delicately like i'd bring it back to life.

"Your house?"

"Yes. I get one too, it's not all clouds up here. " He mumbled, moving things around in the kitchen, tired and trying to act like he hadn't just pulled my disgruntled soul from the maw of the beast.  "Can't live in clouds. I've tried. " The archangel paused for a moment, spinning back around and continuing to shake his head like my actions would make more sense if he did.

"Are you done acting crazy?"  

"Yeah, I'm fine now ...you caught me at a bad time." I placed the lamp on the ground, the head of it snapping off for no solidly good reason. I looked back at the room, chunks of it missing, a large painting of…himself, actually, was thrown to the ground, frame busted. The glass and metal coffee table  I appeared next to was all over the place, my own shins bleeding pretty decently as some glass was kicked into the wall.  Breathing under control, I took some steps away, walking in his general direction. Everything was a mix of blue and creamy gold tones, paintings upon paintings of him lined the walls, staggered so much that they didn't cover everything.  The ceiling was nearly a mosaic of clear tiles and sunlight, all blisteringly white, a few of those swirling dancing white trees I had seen outside the rebirth clinic  planted in the back yard. It was nicely decorated and fairly updated, much better then my dank hole in the ground. Snapping back to attention, visions of confusion, of panic and paranoia  got my head back together. " I need to leave...I 've got to go back. I just... I can't stay here right now."

The Saint looked confused for a moment, lowering his eyes to peer just over the rim of his glasses and swirling the tumbler of liquid like some kind of billionaire alcoholic." You want to leave?"

" I'm sorry. I appreciate it...but... I just found something out, I can't stay here."  I spied the ground cautiously, looking to where i had popped up, like there'd be a symbol or some magic hullabaloo etched into the carpet. Despite this distraction, despite the welcomed break from chaos, I needed to be back down on earth. I needed to find out if Perseus truly was  Raziel, and the utter, convoluted messed up series of events that would require.  "Earth to Heaven travel like that; thought it was done at the Nexuses only, not just wherever the hell you felt like"  I scowled, reacting like a wild, dumb animal usually does when being put in a cage.

"I've been practicing other means. Sue me."  Michael's steps were deliberately slow, trying to throw off my panic, trying to calm me down. He wanted to talk, i could see it on his face. I wasn't in the gossiping mood. "Here. This'll heal your wounds. It's mean for angels, but it won't burn so bad for you. It's extra 'evil'" The saint grinned, handing me the tumbler of blue liquid as I rolled my eyes.  

"Appreciated, but i'm serious, I need to get back."

Michael took a deep breath, ready to chide and humiliate me like he always did, ready to try and cover the situation with humor at my choices, my opinions.

"Been a rough couple of years, eh?" He spoke instead, unusually serious for him. I raised my head a little, trying to figure his game. If he brought me here, there's a reason for it. I couldn't figure what he wanted in return for whatever I was here for. "How are you doing?"

"What is it you need?"I almost spit out, sickened with the thought that my involvement was a conditional thing. "I've got a busy schedule of toiling and scum of the earth-ing to do"

"…Nona"  I turned to face him, expecting some more sass, honestly, but his face was deathly serious. My smartass grin dropped, alarmed. I didn't know how to handle this type of pity from someone I was reasonably sure I'd only been pseudo friends with for the last thousand years.  He shouldn't pity me; he wasn't this deep of a guy. I cowered a little, looking back away. After a second I opened my mouth to spit out another gentle shove for him to leave me alone, but he spoke first, "You don't have to pretend here, just relax."

'Pretend? I'm not pretending, I'm…what is it you need?"  I turned away quickly to the lamp, trying to put it back together. I couldn't read what he was trying to do here, didn't understand why he was so set on trying to get me to spill my guts.  He spilled my guts for me more then enough anyways. I know he wanted me to talk, wanted me to gush, but I didn't know why. Nothing had changed.

"I don't need anything, this is a friendly visit"  I stopped, raising a sarcastic eyebrow.

" Alright, seriously, what is it you need? You're creeping me out." I backed away a little, eyes narrowed. "You do remember that whole…lightning tunnel entry hurts like hell, don't you? I need to get back, I'm not fucking with you, man." Michael sighed in disappointment, wandering back with these loopy, elongated strides that tested my patience with each footstep. He knew how to piss me off better then anyone else. To a level that even Cempe would be proud of.

"You're not going back."  The saint said firmly, eyes hardened.

"What!"  I stood up taller, storming back up to him as he only looked away, unhappy and unimpressed. " I appreciate the break, but for the first time in years, I'm needed down there, I have to check on something, I need to find something out.  Just because i'm in the...position I'm in now, doesn't mean you're higher on the totem pole then me.  It doesn't give you the ability to order me around!"

"Do you want me to tell you it's a visit so you have a few hours where your infamous facade isn't chased up and down the levels of reality in which you've become a social pariah in all of them?" He spit out just as flatly while I froze like a despondent little shut-in. "Or do you want the reason that once I send you here, it takes a while to build up the energy to send you back.  Either way, you're not going back down there right now!"  He raised his tone a little as the two of us bristled, like the good ol' times.

"Now just sit down and relax!" He spit out at me, trying to ease off the heavy dose of seriousness the lackadaisy visit suddenly took on.  "I didn't bring you up here to tease you"

"Just to pity me, right?" I snapped back at him, debating on throwing the blue liquid across the room in a fit of aggravation. I settled for putting it down nicely instead, I still had manners.  "You brought me up here to say 'ohh, poor Nona. It must be so difficult, life must be so hard. You're fallen from the graces of the demons, ooh poor you.'... right?" I snarled.  The  Saint snarled back.

"Or, maybe i have information for you instead, you think of that one , smartass?" He frowned excessively  at my back; my eyebrows popped up on thier own in surprise, mentally having to force them back down so it didn't look like I lost that argument. Instead, i slowly turned back to the saint, scowled a little more before turning away. My eyes were to the wall, to the scuffs i had made stumbling into this realm like some sort of blind, raging monster.

" Information?"  Speaking out quietly, I lowered my ears a little more, ashamed. The argument settled back to a normal range, to something common and understandable while I looked to him tiredly.  His face changed; the look on it began in anger, in frustration with an overall struggle to grasp how to go about this awkward conversation. But looking up at me it softened, looking away into disappointed resignation.  "Is it.... good news?" I asked quietly. More often then not, it was pointless news. But on occasion, it was something worth listening to.  The Archangel hopped back into a regular, perky step, walking around cockily.

"I have information that might cheer you up and help in some areas"

"What type of areas?" I squinted, folding my legs under me. " This is why I don't gush to you, because every talk is something of an idle threat. "  Michael huffed, folding his arms

"You make it sound like our encounters are no fun"

"They're not fu--- nevermind, what  areas, what do you know?"

"Stuff. Things, what nots of that nature"

" For fucks sake, what is it you know?" I was going to choke him, I swear to god. Michael stood up as well, slowly wandering with a grin towards his kitchen again, strutting about like he knew he had me on the ropes. I stormed after him, patience all but gone and eroded away.  "What is it? You're driving me out of my mind!"

"Information…" He stopped, pausing for the greatest dramatic effect possible. I took a half step closer, waving my hands around waiting, lingering on the moment before he finally continued on, "…about Raziel."  My hands were at his throat in a second, but Mike was quick on the parry, taking a leap back out of my blind demand for knowledge.

"Wha! You do?! What do you know?" I walked after him as he kept hopping away, faster then me and quickly running out of original places to hop to in his house.  I stood in the middle of the room instead, shouting at him. "  Is he Perseus? Is that what you know?"

"Perseus? That yutz?" The saint laughed, running a finger over the picture frame closest to him, not bothered by the urgency this news brought back to me.  "No, he's not Perseus. Wait. Is that..." The Saint pointed at me from across the dining room before pointing down beneath our feet,  squinting with a smile as the sheepish embarrassment I was starting to know so well became more and more familiar to me. I hated talking about these sorts of things with a work-buddy.  Michael began to laugh.

"I have to go back down there and know for sure." I said quietly, trying to avoid the snarky, belittling comments sure to come my way as the saint kept on, thinking this was all hilarious and  relishing the moment.

"You think Perseus is Raziel! That's a good one! !"  The saint laughed, wiping a tear away from his eye that I'm pretty sure it wasn't there. Squinting, storming closer to him Michael hopped to another part of his kitchen. "Ohhh my. Yeah. No.  He's not Perseus. "

"How the hell do you know that? Why do you keep all these tabs on my life?" I growled before stopping, standing up taller an turning my head slightly. "I'm serious. Why are you more up to date with my life then I am?"  The Saint ignored the latter part of my question.

" Past souls themselves are generally not known for their cohesive, leadership abilities. Just lingering thoughts and the inability to process the world around them, trapped in a long, repetitive string of memories."  The saint shuffled his shoulders a little, unfazed. "They're like goldfish. They remember everything from their own life, and have no real ability to convert short term memory into long term.  I used to study that in college"  My groan was loud enough to shake the walls.

"You didn't... go to college. Wait...Raziel's...  past soul? ? " I stormed closer as the Saint readied to hop away again, suspicious.  "I thought the past soul was dissolved away in the life-pool.  I went with him to your guys's rebirthing station, i felt that tether snap myself." I reached out to grab the saint around the collar, but he leaned back just out of reach.

"Yet here you are thinking he's already living again without my news. " Michael straighted himself up, taking a slow step away to keep his retreat from looking like a retreat. " That's the news, Nona. The past life? The one that's supposed to dissolve being reborn?"  He smiled warmly, excited as my hands began to shake.

"It never dissolved."  The saint grinned. "And it was never reborn. The present soul did, but the past didn't."   Taking advantage of his lull of hope, I snagged the saint around the neck, more then desperate for answers.  The look on his face changed instantly.

"What?!" I shouted as he tried to back away, opening the wings up again to blind me once more. I wasn't easily fooled, grip-unmoving with a world bathed in white.  "You think i'm stupid or something? No souls come out of that life-pool intact!"

"Why were you just telling me you swore he was Perseus then if you didn't think it was possible to start with!" The Saint squirmed, gurgling more then normal.

"Because i'm following blind hope, that's why!"  I snarled, pushing him more against the walls as I couldn't see the difference between the saint and the wall, all white and washed out.  "Because with all this shit that's happened, that's the only damn thing I have left to look forward to and blindly believe in" My words suddenly rang hollow, dead and empty in the air. My grip opened up.

Saying it  out loud like that, blurting out what I never wanted to say, it suddenly hit me.  My thoughts didn't make sense.  My hope was blind, my will was focused on one, impossible thing. And as soon as that impossible thing becomes possible,  it no longer became a wish, something brainless to follow and hope for.  I slowly frowned.

"He's....not dissolved?" Quietly, my eyes searched through the white haze to the saint's eyes, just vague orbs of real emotion.  Despite the awkward blindness, I could still see that jackass's grinning teeth.  I didn't... I didn't know how to feel about that.  When i was expecting unrelenting happiness and excitement, I got confusion and shame instead.  Fear.  "Where...is he now? Is he around? " Why? Why would i feel this way?  This was my ideal, just the sort of crazy hullabaloo to raise my spirits. But it was all anxiety. Like i'd let him down.

"Around here?" The Saint said quietly, shimmying out from the wall to walk plainly around the 'kitchen' area. Slowly the darkened grout lines came into focus, the flash of wings were burned into my retinas, carrying these wispy  blue winged figures around the room like ghosts.  "I don't know where he's at, Nona. There's not really a 'place' where escaped past souls go."

"You think he never left the life pool?"  I said flatly as the Saint snickered.

"He's gone somewhere. Though it's a crap-shoot at best where that is. Might've inhabited some familiar place as a ghost, it might be out in the field somewhere, or it might be swirling around in hell. You know, Past life stuff. Nothing active. "  He waited for a second, almost like his vague direction wasn't good enough for his standards. " I'd put my money on the familiar place.  You been to your old homestead recently?"  He was talking about the priest's house.

"Not recently. " I said with a glimmer of hope, before that fell pretty quickly, "There's nothing left of that house to haunt anyways. "  Someplace familiar. Next best thing I could think of would be back to England.  Back to Newcastle upon Tyne. I remained standing there, looking at the wall dead in front of me, thinking. Michael's noisy pacing behind me brought me out of my funk.


"What makes you think he was Perseus? Let's hope that little bugger's got nothing to do with you; he's been a thorn in my side for far too long and I'm no longer in the generous mood with him."  The saint huffed out a breath angrily , "Been causing a lot of riots and pandemonium up here, without physically attacking us. People seem especially freaked out about these regenerating demons. " I spoke tiredly, still thinking.

"There was a spark.   Same blue eye, same facial structure, at least what I saw of it, and a spark."

"You tend to fall for the same kind of guy?" Michael interrupted as I scoffed.

"Not that kind of spark, an actual, literal spark. That happened all the time with Paul, and started happening with Raziel come in the end of our time together.  It's like a...bond...thing or something. "  Running my fingers along the wall I tried to focus, but could only wrangle out hazy, half informed thoughts. My mind was mulling over where Raziel had gone. Where he'd be haunting as some brainless, confused and incoherent soul. If he'd become some rambling, inane mess, if he'd become something twisted and unrecognizable, I... I didn't want to see that. I couldn't see that.

"It's like a reassurance of life."  I said stupidly, still grasping for straws.

"In death" The saint said quietly, just as confused about my mood as I was. "If there was a spark, you ever considered the sequel to that story instead of the original?"  Thinking, annoyed with the careful wording he was using, my eyes popped back open in surprise.

"I guess it'd really be the sequel to the sequel if you want to be exact" the saint mumbled under his breath as I geared up for another freak-out.

"Ian? You think it's Ian? He only died in the last five years, he wouldn't have enough time to set up the shitstorm that Perseus had if he popped up recently. The time-line doesn't match up. Ian? Seriously?" I laughed uneasily, brain on all sorts of alarms. Except if he was an aware enough soul to pop out right after he died. Which would require him to be pretty informed the workings of hell , which he was.  Which would explain why I hadn't seen him recently, that he hadn't popped up. That I hadn't heard a word from him. Which would make 10,000x more sense then Raziel filling that role. My face recessed into itself in horror more and more, sitting there like someone was stealing my organs.  "Oh fuck please tell me you don't think that's him. No. Nonono, I helped raise that boy not to be a dickhead like this....no way." Michael only sat there smugly, picking at his nails.

"You gotten in contact with Ian rec--"

"NO." I said loudly, back to full on panic. No... no... no way, that's... no."   My reasoning and logic shorted out, eyes twitching, brain trying to shove it's way down my spine to hide behind my lungs.  "Ian had blond hair Perseus had black..." I garbled out words now, blubbering out my thoughts. While in actuality, that had crossed my mind many years ago. But I waved it off, I dismissed the idea much the same way I dismissed ever being able to die off in spirit.

"Hair dye?" Michael said lamely. "Nona, I dare say I don't think you're a natural redhead, weren't you originally from Greece, home of the red-heads?" He said sarcastically as I frowned, defensive.

"IAN WAS A GOOD KID... No... no way."

"Yes, no one with a decent start in life has ever become a jackass later on. " He said sarcastically, finally noting the utter terror on my face and immediately backing away from the subject, "Alright Nona, ease off there, relax, let's just... deep breaths, c'mon." I only siphoned air through my teeth like a whale, brain slowly aligning those switches. The 'messenger from the skies... was that supposed to be me? I had told him all about Raziel's life as a kid, had told him everything, had told him over and over that I wanted him to do something he truly loved, regardless of what it was. BUT THAT WAS FOR LIFE, not here, not in death, not there. No. No way.

"Nona? You're probably right, probably not him. Come back to me here Nona, c'mon."   He was suddenly next to me again, shoving my shoulder around as my brain was miles and miles away. "Let's concentrate on the good stuff, didn't bring you up here to put you into a coma, I promise. Your buddy's still around! Isn't that great? Hooray!"  I suddenly snapped out of it, glaring at him  in frustration.

"Don't patronize me." I growled, shaking my head out and walking away.  God I hoped he was right.  Hoped that it was just some...unrelated...very informed young person because he definitely wasn't an old, scarred veteran of the wars like he said.

"There we go! So. Uh. Anyways, Good news about Raziel, right?"  Michael clapped stupidly as I only sighed louder, trying to understand why I wasn't excited, giddy, beyond happy.  "Nona?"

"That's great news." I said, nodding quickly to at least show my gratitude, even if I didn't feel it.   Maybe I was freaking out because I'd broken my promise to Raziel. That I hadn't kept my word, when he trusted me to think of someone else other then myself. That I ruined my vow.

Maybe Paul's words that he didn't want to be with me, that he chose to die instead,  still held in my heart. Still hurt.

"You don't sound like that's great news." He said quietly, sitting up on the counter and getting another tumbler full of generic liquid of some sort that he couldn't drink anyways. It was odd to see him without his wings up here, easier to relate to him as a person this way.

"I screwed this whole situation up.  I didn't do a single thing right this time, to a person I cared about deeply, most of all. Even to the one I treated like my own flesh and blood. " I shrugged,   "If I can't even get my priorities straight, then what good am I? Still selfish and blind, like I originally was"

"What'd you do wrong?" He shifted positions, leaning up a little more.

"Ian died isolated and alone." I stuttered, slopping over as a pile of emotional goo wherever it was convenient, wherever there was space enough for me to do so. I knew I'd crack to Michael eventually  "I promised to Raziel that I'd watch out for him, make sure his life would be better then the first one was.  Maybe the past soul didn't dissolve because I did so poorly, because I didn't hold up my word and it knew that."  No retort, no sound, nothing.

"I became so involved in my own petty issues that I forgot just exactly what I was doing, what meant the most to me."  My head hung low, crumpled slightly against the wall. " If he was Perseus… if either of them were..." I laughed hollowly, playing with the corner of another painting, this one of St Michael slaying some pathetic demon of a creature, cowering in fear beneath his one foot. How appropriate.

"If he was… " I couldn't keep myself from tearing up now, "I wouldn't blame him for everything he's done. I wouldn't blame him in the least. I've failed him, pure and simple."  I choked on a laugh.

"If I can't keep my promise to one person, how can I be expected to run Hell?" I kept my self turned away, not really caring or wanting to know the stupid faces Michael was probably making at my misery.  "I've thought about it, considered quitting the job in the past. But now that I'm actually faced with it…"

"you're free of it…" He chimed in. I shrugged.

"…it's not fun. It's there, and I want nothing but what I had. " I shuddered, grasping at my arms quickly as the wall kept me tall.  " With so little time left, I can't even enjoy myself. All I think about is how long I've evaded this event, how I've had some 3500 years, and I'm no better than Aria. I still make the same stupid mistakes, and when you're supposed to learn and grow as a spirit with age, I haven't. I'm still weak, still terrified. "  He didn't answer back like I thought he would, didn't offer a word or a sentence of condolences. I knew he was aware of my impending death. Knew that he was carefully avoiding the topic. Even if he claimed not to be dousing me in pity , he was.  Calloused as that sounds, I felt better to go without it. Like I retained my dignity, whatever that was worth nowadays.

"What good am I to him? How can I face either of them like this?" My question echoed in the halls of the mansion, hit the corners of the wall room and sat there, unattended.  There was no answer to that question, nothing to say to wrap it up, nothing to understand farther then the simple words it was made out of.  Looking over my shoulder to the spirit as old as I was, to the edifice of belief surrounding him like it once did to me, to the environment, the heaven created by a handful of spirits at the start, i felt like I was talking to the wrong person.  He wasn't concerned about my issues like I was. He was still enjoying the height of his popularity, living in a working system he probably helped to create.  Saint Michael couldn't understand these issues.  

Smirking, I looked back away, walking towards the window to rest my head against the glass.  I didn't know what I wanted anymore.

"In my experience, souls dawdle in being reborn because they have regrets, not vengeance--you know, usually before they evaporate away into a new life anyways. In a perfect world, we'd never experience any pain or sorrow, all lives lived on earth would be happy and just.  You know as well as I do how impossible it is to shield one person from every problem, from every evil." His voice startled me a little as  I slowly looked over my shoulder to find the Saint leaning back against the kitchen dining counter, brows furrowed, intimately thinking without a hint of his own arrogance that was normally there, " If Ian does end up being Perseus… maybe he did it to come back to you."

"By throwing me out of my own house?" I screeched incredulously, serenity gone "By ruining everything I ever worked for and chasing my ragged-ass soul around and driving me mad?"

"Was he telling lies?" the saint barked out at me as I leaned away, standing up taller against the heavenly walls.

"Not technically"

"Then he's not really the one that ruined your life, is he?"  My mouth shut tight as the saint continued on. It'd be so much easier to yell back at him if he put up any sort of sass with this, but it was like he was reading from a very smart book report, or from the encyclopedia.  It suddenly became harder to grasp my own life, my own ground, as he attacked that last crumbled ridge I clung to.  "Maybe you've been looking for a way out for a while now. Maybe this is actually what you want."  I had a mouthful of retort to spit back , gasping on breathfulls of air instead as he continued on.

"From a very basic stand point, no one asked you to compromise your position like this, and you should've been ready to face the consequences in case word got out.  But you've let it come to this yourself, this is your own plan, really." Holding back the obvious quip about plans and how quickly they've gone awry in the past, I barked out my surprise.
  
"Is not!"  I had more to say, but i guess I was back to childish, weak insults. The saint shook his head, almost laughing,

"You don't think so. Eh? So if I had some great proposition to put everything you had into fighting me right now, you'd win that?"  I stopped my angry venting for a second, determined.

" I'd still be able to win in a heartbeat. I wouldn't hesitate to beat you."  I thought on it for a second, still angry.

" I may be dying but I'm not dead yet." I spit out childishly, looking up to find St. Michael grinning. "Weren't we talking about Ian? How did we get to this point anyways?"  My frown slopped into confusion as he kept smiling. Just what was so damn funny now?  It felt like walking around on some kind of word-activated grin-a –thon, that if I hit the right combination, I'd get a despondent gurgle of glee.  Instead of letting me know why he was suddenly grinning with delirious grins, he moved on.

"It makes me optimistic to hear you change from helplessness to assertiveness" He grinned that same stupid little smirk again, knowing his conversation was fluttering around a half step above mine.  Regardless, it was annoying. The saint ruffled his shoulders up once, straightening himself out. The Saint started to make his way for the door, dragging my glare along with him. For someone reluctant to be here and among Mike, of all people, his actions for the door made me a little panicked in a very weak way. A sort of 'i hate you....but why are you leaving?'

"Enjoy your mini-vacation, Nona. I've got business to attend to, feel free to wander about. Outside of this house you'll be able to blend in. Might even change your mind to stick around up here for the time left." He laughed sarcastically,  fluttering his fingers in the door as he left. "Buh-bye! Go explore!"  He gave a jovial toss of his manly golden locks as the door closed.

"Asswipe" I spit out though my teeth, taking a few deep breaths, waiting for him to completely leave, waiting for something. Everything settled down in that house. Silent. Peaceful.  It was too much. Like someone was just waiting to  jump out of the corner and start my chase all over again, that this much peace, this much tranquility, it was the calm before the storm.  I hadn't relaxed in years, and that takes a toll on a person's mind.

The minutes slowly ticked on, uneventful. My paranoid glances eased back to a normal range with time as I looked around curiously, stepping away from the walls to tiptoe across the space, back towards the couch.  The sweet, slow breezes danced across the windowsill,  across the massive back patio of his house, lulling the anxiety from before into a quiet, peaceful existence.

Ian as Perseus.  Raziel  was alive somewhere, that stubborn soul.  I sighed, finally taking that first breath of new air.  I  only curled tighter into a ball on the couch, overwhelmed and out of context with those thoughts.
Ch. 12: [link]

Ch:14: [link]

So. I gotta explain a few things. First- I hope this version is massively easier to understand. The biggest problem with this chapter before, was that it was the first chapter I wrote of the middle of the story/ the first chapter I wrote at all for this book. So i hadn't tied lines up, I was mostly kinda writing in the dark and making up a lot of stuff. I wasn't really in the writing mood, and I tried to patch it together, but obviously that failed pretty hard.

So after the first version of this chapter was up for about 9 hours, i pulled it. Writing to me is 10,000 x more personal then the artwork I produce, as it's usually things I mull over, go back into, fix, and think about on a constant basis. So failboating with this chapter the first round kinda deflated my sails for a few weeks. I'd be excited to say that now I can post chapters more often that we're getting to the mostly written-part of the story, but that's not the case. There's a gap of about 2-3 chapters I have to write before we actually get to that part, and my writing sails are pretty empty. So i'm not sure when the next chapter goes up. The first version is a very fair assessment of my writing when i'm not thinking and not in the mood to write. I've sat my butt down to sort (and mostly re-write) this chapter out, at least.

Now about the actual chapter: I pulled out a lot of stuff. It's still a long chapter, but it's much more set up, and the important elements are the main focus of it. Mainly that Perseus might be Ian, and Raziel is still around somewhere. And it may seem like a contrived plot convenience that Michael seems to know everything about what's going on with someone else's life, but it's actually a plot point, I promise.

So yeah, i hope this is better.
© 2012 - 2024 ALRadeck
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SilverandZuko's avatar
YAAAY!! good job! looks amazing. I'm so excited to hear what happens next.
not sure how Nona will blend in out in heaven.. but I guess that will be explained later. Can't wait!