transgressions (open)

[Fraciel]

The wide doors had been open. Fraciel was pleased with that, it was inviting. Though, he was sure, the cathedral invited almost all within it's walls. Perhaps not certain kinds, and when he really thought about it, perhaps not Fraciel himself. Good thing he wasn't thinking about it.

He'd visited here a few times. Never in an official capacity, and that trend was continued as the fallen listened to his footsteps clack on the floors of the old building. His head was turned upwards, eyes scanning the stained glass, and the frescos adorning the walls. It was all sequins and glitter stuck on with white glue, as far as Fraciel was concerned. Considering the life he had 'lived' previous to falling, most anything could be thought of like that.

He found what he was looking for rather quickly, a Minister who seemed to have relatively little to do at the moment. The fallen approached and came to an abrupt halt behind the man. Silence, and Fraciel waited for a good long time before there was an acknowledgement, He was being rather inobtrusive. Though once the gates were opened, perhaps the flood would be let in.

"May we speak, in private?"

Being a man of few words himself, Fraciel could appreciate when the minister simply nodded and turned to lead the still trench coat clad Fraciel to a room off to the side. There were a couple of seats, and a coat rack. The coat rack was used, as Fraciel removed teh light grey coat he wore, showing off instead his tailored black shirt, top button undone, and loosely tied tie. Seats were taken, and a slightly uncomfortable silence settled over the room for a few moments, before Fraciel spoke.

"I have killed a man..."

There was another silence, this one more uncomfortable than the last. It also lasted longer, as Fraciel watched the reactions of the minister. Fraciel didn't truly feel the need to confess, but what this happened to be was an exercise in simply, well, seeing how people react.

"not today, but recently..."

More silence, this was not nearly as curiousity slaking as Fraciel had previously believed it would be. So the fallen angel stood, and picked his jacket off the hook it rested on. It was then that a sound fell upon his ears, something akin to 'wait... wait, h.. how do you feel about... uhm... about it?'. It seemed the other man had found his voice. Fraciel glanced back.

"I suppose I had enjoyed it, as any enjoys their tasks..."

That was an interesting qustion, really. It made Fraciel think, as he turned and stepped exited into the large main worship centre. His jacket was folded over his arm, and, barring anyone stopping him, was probably headed out.

[faust]

There were three ravens sat on a tree,
down-a-down, hey, down-a-down...

Aharah hummed to himself as he looked over the entrance of the church. How wonderful! Granted, it could not really compare to the wondrous things in Heaven, but considering human's capactity for art, the angel could see the charm in the construction. It was really rather cute to see them try.

He hummed and strolled inside, taking great care to flap around his baggy clothing as much as possible. "There were three ravens sat on a tree, down-a-down, hey, down-a-down... huh, how did that song go again?" A few hundreds years of not hearing it sometimes had that effect on the angel's memory.

He strode into the worship chamber, not in the least surprised to find a marginally familiar face here with him. Of course, Aharah's memory of faces was infamously bad. He smiled genialy. "Well good morning Father, and a good morning to you, friend. What brings us all to this house of God today?"

[Fraciel]

Well he HAD been on his way out. He had been finished here. Then there was this, developement. As Fraciel would seem like a familiar yet unplacable face, so too would this face seem to him. Father? Fraciel looked back and watched the man who was exiting the room now. Father? As far as the fallen angel could tell, that one had never taken the necissary actions that would qualify him to have offspring. He turned back to the familiar face. This one was probably too old to be his son anyway. Fraciel placed his jacket on the back of a pew.

"confessions..."

The voice that spoke contained no inflections. Monotone ans monotone could possibly be. Emotions had very little meaning to Fraciel, even though he ahd fallen, he simply lacked the motivation to care. He had always lacked the motivation.

[faust]

Aharah beamed and made a noise of understanding. "Confessions, of course. How very admirable. Too many people these days seek to carry the weight of their sins alone. Of course, even more people sin, and hope that singing a few songs will absolve them of guilt. Singing, of course, is fun, but it accomplishes less for the soul than people think.

"But of course you know that." He widened his smile. "I'm sure you didn't come for such ridiculous activities as singing. Or praying for that manner." He gave the young man an appraising look. "So you say you've killed, do you? I do wonder..."

He looked at the stained glass windows with appropriate wonder. "Do you sing, child? Forgive me for saying, but you seem to strike me as a choir boy. I'm sure you'd have a beautiful voice if you'd only use it in the right way. But maybe that's me being presumptuous."

[Fraciel]

Fop. That is the word that Fraciel would use to describe this one. or some other monicker that was far less polite. So a fop it was, for now at least. So easily distracted. Yet still, Fraciel had a good idea from where this one hailed, perhaps sent to keep an eye on things? on him? No. That was paranoia, there was no reason for such things. Fraciel's light eyes stayed on the young man there before him.

"have we not all killed, at some point?"

Sing, Fraciel had always let his sword do the singing. A sword that he missed, sorely. Nothing else had quite the same feel to it. Some weapons were too vicious, and yet others were too impersonal. The sword was perfect, and yet he hadn't found a sword here on earth that quite fit.

"singing is for those who have no purpose..."

[faust]

"Not so." Aharah protested, emphatacally, but without a change in emotion. "For many, to sing is their purpose. Even for those whose life seems to have no direction, often the sound of a beautiful voice is all that is needed to turn them, whether for better or worse."

He sighed. "I find it sad that you do not think so. I am sure you have heard it, once in your life. The haunting notes, the blinding magnitude of a thousand voices calling in unison, all working together to produce that one, indescribable note." In spite of his geniality, there was an almost unnoticeable hint of posion in his next words. "But maybe you enjoy voices raised in a different kind of unison. Cries of 'notice me', all without key or meter, in a incredible cacophony. Is this not so?"

[Fraciel]

Fraciel might not agree, but he knew better than to argue here. There was the ocassional worshipper, and ministers wandering about. And actually, what was the difference if this one thought ill of him, Fraciel was fairly certain that this would be an isolated incident at any rate. He turned to look up at one of the large stained glass windows, light eyes turned upward.

"I have heard many songs sung in many voices"

Fraciel moved closer, turning his head slightly to look towards the new man once more. He held no sinister tone, or appearance, though his next words, spoken softly, might be taken as forboding. If taken at face value.

"perhaps none have tickled my ears as pleasently, or often, as a single voice mourning it's guilt..."

[faust]

Aharah nodded his understanding, getting a gradually better idea of just who he was talking to as he went. He had, of course, heard of fallen angels. On more attentives moments he may even have noticed these brethren missing from the choir but thought nothing of it. He supposed that not all found the same solace as he did in the ranks of the choir, but this struck him as odd. To decide to be cast out of Heaven entirely, to live among man for the rest of time...?

He shook his head, deciding now to continue the wordplay just for the fun of it. "Mournful, melancholic, lonely... Yes, I suppose I see the appeal of a lone griever. I suppose also, that I must apologize when I say that I find no beauty in that, and so seek to abolish such horrid notes from the human chorus, as much as the Lord wills. Perhaps my ears have been taught, as a child is taught, to hear the world differently. I find it very interesting to meet someone who has been taught differently, who once stood beside me in the same rows."

He nodded his head graciously. "I forget my manners, but it seems I have forgotten your name. They call me Aharah, the smiling brother."

[Fraciel]

He continued to stare upwards at the stained glass, as he had been through the conversation recently. Speak of melencholy, lonliness and grief made Fraciel nod. The notion of abolishing it could have made him laugh. It was after the mention of manners, and names, that Fraciel looked down. Taking in, once more, the face of the fellow he was speaking to.

"My name is Fraciel, though I have been called many things by mortals."

Impressions, Fraciel had them. This one was a dreamer, one of the idealists, someone who thought that if you sang loud enough everyone would simply HAVE to join in. The fallen angel wondered exactly how these existed, there was no secret made about the wrath of god. That wrath that Fraciel and select others of his bretheren had been set aside to carry out. Perhaps, though, these were impressions Fraciel was placing upon those angels due to his prolonged contact with humans.

"I once abolished those... songs... as well. Though, I believe, in a manner you would find most distasteful."

Songs was the only word he spoke that had any sort of emphasis to it. Perhaps it was spoken in his difficult to listen to monotone as well, and the pause gave it a sort of stand out quality. Either way, the message was clear that 'songs' was Aharah's word, not Fraciel's.

[faust]

Oh, dear. Aharah was getting a broader picutre of who he was talking to. Those angels of death-types. Ah, the Lord had to make them both, he supposed. For every example of His love, were there just as many examples of His anger? Aharah never took the time to check. Well, he was glad that God made him a loving angel instead of a vengeful one. But then again, that was a rather selfish thought to have.

"My aplogies, Fraciel." His manner became a bit more grave, though only a bit. In the back of his mind, he began to think of the ways to get his counterpart to respond in something other than a monotone which, while not grating on him per se, was still something he wanted to fix. "I suppose you believe that I am nothing more than a naive child, and that you have seen more than I have. You must be confident in your omniscence, to be sure, to have done such an irreversible act as you've done." Smiling genially, he made a coy, obviously fake gesture of innocence. "Am I wrong?"