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Sorrow And Hope In Exile
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By the rivers of Babylon
We sat in mourning and weeping
When we remembered Zion
On the poplars of that land
We hung up our harps
There our captors asked us
For the words of a song
For a joyful song
'Sing for us a song of Zion!'
But how could we sing
The song of the Lord
In a foreign land?
If I forget you Jerusalem
May my right hand wither
May my tongue stick to my palate
If I do not remember you
If I do not exalt Jerusalem
Beyond all my delights
That day at Jerusalem
'Level it, level it down to its foundations!'
Happy those who pay you back
The evil you have done us!
Happy those who seize your children
And smash them against a rock.
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Bleed for me, I'll live forever
Drink of me and live forever
She couldn't remember clearly the words of the song.
She did remember that they were a mutated form of Christian teachings...
The blood and body of Christ
...but the song had been about one of the more creative human creations of a vampire. A nonexistent creature, althought similar beings had lived once. Soul-eaters. Actual Reapers who survived to swallow souls. Another one of God's children.
There was a deep sigh in place of an amused smile. She'd dreamt another dream, another figment of uninspired subconsciousness. Her memory was distinctly faded and blurred. Her mortal mind was not that of an angel's who tended to have photographic memories. She remembered that she used to be able to call every creature on Earth, the Heavens, and Hells by their individual Chosen name.
Now, she had difficulties in remembering miniscule details that should not have troubled her.
She'd been angry in the dream. It was the only aspect that she could muster reconasance for. She'd been very angry.
"I'm angry at you because there's a reason!"
He remained passive and uninvolved.
"Angry with you. With you." He strained his expression into a small resonance of emotion. "Because of how your jests always seem to damage me in the place that hurts the most. You are not being careful of my thoughts."
He was facing him now "What do you wish for me to say?"
Sally was working at Headquarters.
Noin had regulatorily informed Commander Une that she would not be volunteering anymore. She'd announced her retirement from Relena's Guard and was readying herself for the move to Old-France.
Quatre had opened an unlimited fund for her in a Universal bank account, therefore the money was of no issue.
She furrowed her brow in worry.
He'd mentioned that the only manner in which to proceed was to stalk Lucifer until he showed himself.
"I don't wish for you to say anything more." He stilled his anger, keeping quiet for the briefest of moments. "Feelings are not important---they tend to waver constantly. My thoughts and convictions do not!" The force of his voice rushed quickly back to flush his words in strength "You hurt my integrity merely by admitting your words in a manner that entertains you, yet manages to stain my person. How can you dare to insinuate to love---to know me when you continue to defragment everything I say?"
His own voice was acrid. Metallic and as cutting as a garrote. "As I have said---what is it you wish me to say?"
"Nothing. I desire for your silence so that I may speak my peace. Will you disallow me even this small reprise from your blows?"
Things were proceeding at a rapid rate. She would be leaving in two days.
Sally would not be accompanying her, but would nonetheless keep in constant communication by telepathy and through various other channels such as the less-secure audio-vid.
If she met with Zechs...she would be needing Raphael's tender aid. Her brother did not want to be found. There was no true reason for his obstinance. She frowned. She could see no resulting harm towards him. Why was he refusing a simple wish? She needed to find him. She did not want to die before---
"When have I ever denied you of anything? Even this relationship---this entire tense situation between the two of us---have I not showed my affection towards you?"
"Your words work against you." The silence enveloped him once again. "I believe...I believe I am beginning to fall out of rapture with you. You have been unpredictable, yet you have become comfortable with the idea of me. Comfortable enough that you would call me ignorant...that you would call me insignificant and facticious."
"Yet I ask---what is it that you wish of me?"
Tears did not come. He could not cry. It was impossible to cry. The instance had passed. The emotion was no longer as strong. "You are becoming worthless to me."
His eyes flashed in a deep surgence of immediate raw power. "Do you realize what you are speaking?"
---before seeing him again.
Noin needed Sally, this was why they were together. She needed the presence of her, the reassuring feel of steady warmth. Michael needed Raphael because he needed at least some thread of heaven, needed to have the feeling of absolute light. Heaven was not so easily forgotten, was not so easily tossed aside for an alternative.
Without the continuing contact of a full angel, he doubted he would be able to continue.
And yet...Michael loved Raphael. Loved him with the strongest emotion possible. The tenderest and most painful of loves.
And yet...Lucifer was first. And he remained an aching burning within Michael's heart.
He loved Lucifer.
It frightened him.
Frightened him that he would love him more than God...
He stared at him. "You have just accomplished in your quest to force me into detesting someone I have loved. I no longer hold any semblance of caress towards you."
"You exaggerate to suit your own purposes. You embelish all situations that come upon you. Why must it be you who insists on creating this unbearable friction!?"
He stared at him with eyes of unforgiving violet. "Do not presume to know all my thoughts."
He had forced himself away from him.
For the sake of God.
Because He could not accept to share. Could not accept what was not mean to be.
Lucifer was Fallen.
The Fallen did not join with the Just in harmony.
He loved him still. Could remember this hands, his lips, his caress...his smile and his tears.
He often closed his eyes and saw that face. But lately, it had blended in with that of Zechs'. The ice-cold eyes were the same. The hair, flowing long and platinum was similar. But Zechs lacked the ethereal perfection of Lucifer, lacked the sleeker lines, the exquisitely carved figure. Lacked grace, lacked elegance; lacked everything in comparsion.
Both Noin and Michael yearned for what their memories showed them.
Memories were all that they owned. Were all that they possessed. Michael's clearest memories were of Lucifer. God had refused the union, had denied them their love. He'd unknowingly obeyed. But---
Would God deny him of the memories?
"I do not presume this," he closed his eyes. "I presume to know that we are over. Your love has faded."
There was an unsteady hesitance. "There is someone else."
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pt.four ... back ... pt.six