Obtrusiveness. PG, Gen
Title: Obtrusiveness
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/pairing: Lucifer, Uriel (no pairing)
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Through 4.07
Summary: And he will chose path that had been chosen by others before him, his good intentions leading to where such roads always lead.
Disclaimer: All credit to those who do own it (obviously not me).
They are at a broken crossroads, stone crushed so heavy underfoot that its now only sand. The sky above them is the color of bleached money, a heaven destroyed under the pressure of angelic virtue. It is one of a thousand heavens, a million, and Lucifer tries to regard the ruins impassively. This piece of heaven was too dangerous to survive, he reasoned. He had been told as much, wrapped up in the warmth of divine light and filled with a purpose that only God could give. This space of heaven could not survive. He approached the task with clarity and purpose. But now, surrounded by its ruination, he felt only an acute sadness. The cloying stench of disappointment coming off Uriel, who stood beside him, served only to make the guilt more intense.
Uriel’s displeasure manifests itself in waves, a thrumming despondency, hot as anger. It’s hard to see something beautiful die, Lucifer knows. He tries not to take others frustrated feelings to heart. He takes into account Uriel’s youth and tries to remember that the other angel has not yet had experience enough to know that even bliss comes at a price. Though he has the knowledge, many times he must remind himself that he is acting as the hand of the Lord. His will and the will of all the angels come secondary to the father. It is a difficult lesson to learn and even tougher to move from theory to actuality. “You’re angry?” It’s a rhetorical question. “As you should be, but you will find you’re directing it to the wrong place.”
Lucifer kneels on the hard, cold ground, passing a hand over the disturbed earth. The air swirls and dances at his touch, lifting and separating the earth and shaping it with his intent. A tapering vortex appears and begins to descend in a spiral, a narrow, conical shape that Lucifer twists in his palms before pressing it into the ground. It drills into the earth as a curl of light and only when it is gone does he turn back to Uriel. “Our father told me something,” he begins. “He told me that his creations will turn to darkness. He told me that they will question him. He told me they will turn their faces from him. “At this Uriel softens. Worry takes the place of indignation. “Why would they do this?” he inquires.
“Because they must, because he made them imperfect,” his response is laced with contempt. The twirl of light spreads its seed all over the landscape. It strips it of color, of all personality, of anything that might have marked it as singular. In its place is an achromatized earth, completely unremarkable, a blank canvas to be repainted. “And we, who have done everything he’s asked, who have watched him make and shape the world will have no say. He’ll raise them higher than us.” The morning star’s eyes bore into his brothers, alight with fire. “And they will know pity we shall never know.”
Uriel shakes his head. “What you are saying is profane.” Lucifer simply shrugs. “You do not understand. None of you, not Jophiel, Serephiel, Gagiel, Sariel, Barachiel, not…Michael…” the last word comes laden with grief. His waning relationship with Michael left a bitter taste in his mouth and an anger that would not abate. “You will see,” Lucifer continues. “In time you will see just how right I am. And you will wish you had listened to me now, when there was still time.” Confusion and consideration are warring in Uriel’s expression. There is only one thing left to say. Lucifer considers it carefully, letting a sigh carrying the essence of his frustration spill forth along with the words.
“Our father has created a soul. A complex thing, I’m told. I couldn’t know because he will not give one to us. From what I’ve heard it is beautiful and allows for reason beyond measure, choice, deeper understanding. The little hairless apes get what we will not. In the end they will squander their gift, use it as currency. I don’t know how. But they will sell it away in places that look like just like this, these crossroads. In heaven these crossroads must be broken. Many would waste their gift even in paradise to return back to earth. It cannot be allowed.” He intends to say no more, to move away and out of this corner of the sky. Uriel’s hand stops him, holds him in place. He has never seemed stronger to Lucifer, radiating an energy that should be well beyond him.
“I do not believe you,” his voice a rock, brooking no disagreement. “You are losing your way, your purpose…brother…you are…” Lucifer holds up a silencing hand, and to his credit, from years of conditioning and an understanding of hierarchy Uriel quiets. “Losing your way is easy when the road is no longer the road you remember.” They stand in silence for a long while, taking in their handiwork until the silver call to order sounds by heavenly trumpet.
One day when the history of humanity had stretched longer than could be counted for all but angels, Uriel will recall this moment and a pinprick of light that descended into the ground, wiping clean sins yet to come. He will raise his head to the heavens and say in a voice just above a whisper “You were right, my brother.” And he will chose path that had been chosen by others before him, his good intentions leading to where such roads always lead.
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/pairing: Lucifer, Uriel (no pairing)
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Through 4.07
Summary: And he will chose path that had been chosen by others before him, his good intentions leading to where such roads always lead.
Disclaimer: All credit to those who do own it (obviously not me).
They are at a broken crossroads, stone crushed so heavy underfoot that its now only sand. The sky above them is the color of bleached money, a heaven destroyed under the pressure of angelic virtue. It is one of a thousand heavens, a million, and Lucifer tries to regard the ruins impassively. This piece of heaven was too dangerous to survive, he reasoned. He had been told as much, wrapped up in the warmth of divine light and filled with a purpose that only God could give. This space of heaven could not survive. He approached the task with clarity and purpose. But now, surrounded by its ruination, he felt only an acute sadness. The cloying stench of disappointment coming off Uriel, who stood beside him, served only to make the guilt more intense.
Uriel’s displeasure manifests itself in waves, a thrumming despondency, hot as anger. It’s hard to see something beautiful die, Lucifer knows. He tries not to take others frustrated feelings to heart. He takes into account Uriel’s youth and tries to remember that the other angel has not yet had experience enough to know that even bliss comes at a price. Though he has the knowledge, many times he must remind himself that he is acting as the hand of the Lord. His will and the will of all the angels come secondary to the father. It is a difficult lesson to learn and even tougher to move from theory to actuality. “You’re angry?” It’s a rhetorical question. “As you should be, but you will find you’re directing it to the wrong place.”
Lucifer kneels on the hard, cold ground, passing a hand over the disturbed earth. The air swirls and dances at his touch, lifting and separating the earth and shaping it with his intent. A tapering vortex appears and begins to descend in a spiral, a narrow, conical shape that Lucifer twists in his palms before pressing it into the ground. It drills into the earth as a curl of light and only when it is gone does he turn back to Uriel. “Our father told me something,” he begins. “He told me that his creations will turn to darkness. He told me that they will question him. He told me they will turn their faces from him. “At this Uriel softens. Worry takes the place of indignation. “Why would they do this?” he inquires.
“Because they must, because he made them imperfect,” his response is laced with contempt. The twirl of light spreads its seed all over the landscape. It strips it of color, of all personality, of anything that might have marked it as singular. In its place is an achromatized earth, completely unremarkable, a blank canvas to be repainted. “And we, who have done everything he’s asked, who have watched him make and shape the world will have no say. He’ll raise them higher than us.” The morning star’s eyes bore into his brothers, alight with fire. “And they will know pity we shall never know.”
Uriel shakes his head. “What you are saying is profane.” Lucifer simply shrugs. “You do not understand. None of you, not Jophiel, Serephiel, Gagiel, Sariel, Barachiel, not…Michael…” the last word comes laden with grief. His waning relationship with Michael left a bitter taste in his mouth and an anger that would not abate. “You will see,” Lucifer continues. “In time you will see just how right I am. And you will wish you had listened to me now, when there was still time.” Confusion and consideration are warring in Uriel’s expression. There is only one thing left to say. Lucifer considers it carefully, letting a sigh carrying the essence of his frustration spill forth along with the words.
“Our father has created a soul. A complex thing, I’m told. I couldn’t know because he will not give one to us. From what I’ve heard it is beautiful and allows for reason beyond measure, choice, deeper understanding. The little hairless apes get what we will not. In the end they will squander their gift, use it as currency. I don’t know how. But they will sell it away in places that look like just like this, these crossroads. In heaven these crossroads must be broken. Many would waste their gift even in paradise to return back to earth. It cannot be allowed.” He intends to say no more, to move away and out of this corner of the sky. Uriel’s hand stops him, holds him in place. He has never seemed stronger to Lucifer, radiating an energy that should be well beyond him.
“I do not believe you,” his voice a rock, brooking no disagreement. “You are losing your way, your purpose…brother…you are…” Lucifer holds up a silencing hand, and to his credit, from years of conditioning and an understanding of hierarchy Uriel quiets. “Losing your way is easy when the road is no longer the road you remember.” They stand in silence for a long while, taking in their handiwork until the silver call to order sounds by heavenly trumpet.
One day when the history of humanity had stretched longer than could be counted for all but angels, Uriel will recall this moment and a pinprick of light that descended into the ground, wiping clean sins yet to come. He will raise his head to the heavens and say in a voice just above a whisper “You were right, my brother.” And he will chose path that had been chosen by others before him, his good intentions leading to where such roads always lead.