st. michael ✞ au (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
premeditated) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dear_mun2013-04-03 07:48 pm
premeditated) wrote in dear_mun2013-04-03 07:48 pm
Entry tags:
dean said yes au
So we're back here again. For all that you've done with me, all that you've tried to break me of, it was always meant to be. It's in your nature to want to believe it.
It's the only way to do what is right, what has always meant to be.
It's the only way to do what is right, what has always meant to be.
no subject
no subject
no subject
Also, I'd invite you to consider the fact that I'm the least biased person you stand a chance of talking to, along with the fact that I'm the one your Father put in charge over your ending.
And I'm not sure I care for your tone, Michael.
no subject
[And you can dislike his tone all you want, Death. In this vessel, nothing is going to change. Destiny has already worked, and the Fates have managed everything accordingly.]
Besides shouldn't you be happy? When all this is over, you won't be needed anymore. [Suffering will end. Heaven will destroy Hell. God will return, and everything will be as it was meant to.]
no subject
[ Death's brows bounce up, incredulous, and his thin lips press together until they disappear.
Not a second later, elderly man is dropping his head and clamping the long, skeletal fingers of one of his hands over his mouth and eyes, shielding his face from view while his angular shoulders jump - once, twice, and a third time before dissolving into fine tremors that quiver through his seemingly thin figure. The sound that results is mostly muffled by his palm, but it sounds a lot like a dusty wind tossing bare bones across a stone floor. Though odd, it's very unmistakable what it is.
Death is laughing. Death is laughing at Michael.
It's a noise that would make lesser creatures quaver and flee to hear it, or else coil in upon themselves as tight as they could, shriveling with dread. Even the strongest of hearts would be hard-pressed to grow uneasy for that eerie, shuddering, dry rasp of a chuckle. After all, it's a sound that's very much akin to the kind of rattle that wriggles its way free of a body on the brink, that gargling hiss of air that leaves behind only an empty husk for rot to gnaw.
This sudden laughter last for two, perhaps three seconds, and has Death half turning away with some clear effort to keep it contained. It looks extremely odd and it is odd, to an unnerving extent. After the few seconds, though, Death is suddenly inhaling a great gust through his nose, which literally seems to re-inflate him back to straightened posture and is reminiscent of an aggressive roar of wind through a tunnel.
The edge of this inhale also turns him back to fully face Michael, hand flaking away to reveal a face that's perfectly identical to the polite intrigue he started this whole line of conversation with. There's not a hint of mirth or amusement in him; it's as if the sudden fit of laughter never happened. Nevertheless, Michael, you can be damn sure that wasn't nothing. Death himself can't remember the last time he's laughed, which may very well mean it hasn't been since it was just he and God, tinkering away on prototypes in the dark. Death might feel a little embarrassed at himself, but no, the whole of Michael's reply was really that ridiculous. ]
You misunderstand me, Michael, but I suppose I really should have expected it. It's very unnatural for angels to comprehend motivations not based on orders, and you are the first of them.
But believe it or not, your Father never tried to command me. He asked me if I would collect the archangels myself when their time came, and as many of your lesser kin as I could manage, for him. Only the best for his boys -- he was horrifically maudlin. I said I would, and I will.
You see, your Father and I respected one another. Essentially, that meant we could deny and accept requests from one another without there being any hard feelings.
No, no, the only ones who ever had the gall to try and make demands of me were his sons.
[ His pupils contract, then expand slightly, eating the faint color of his iris with a blackness that didn't reflect the light. ]
And if you think I bend to the beck and call of children, I suggest you ask Lucifer about what I didn't do for him in Chicago. Or one of the Deans.
Really, Michael, I find it intriguing that you're the eldest, because I think you're possibly the most naive.
I did not ignore this. I just needed to get on a computer to reply ~properly~
But he doesn't back down. Simply because for all that Death is, he won't interfere with the final battle. There are rules to this after all, and he's abided them along with the rest of the Horsemen -- regardless if he's the last one.]
I'm not making demands of you. I don't care where you stand on this. You know as well as I do what has to happen. I'm only pointing out the bit that is to come at the end, when my brother is finally slain.
no prob, that post was a monster
Michael, clearly you don't understand how little Death gives a damn about your Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny with Lucifer. Spoiler: your Apocalypse isn't the real one. ]
Actually, no. I'm still stuck on the has to happen bit of your little tale.
You claim you received orders from God. What, exactly, did he say to you, Michael?
Did He actually say anything at all?
it was beautiful
It has to happen because He knew it would. You think I up and decided I wanted to kill my brother? How else was it to end? Of course he rebelled. Father didn't deal with him, He made me. He constructed the Cage, but I was the one who was made to throw him in there.
[Look, it is destiny. God had to set it in motion somehow.]
If it wasn't meant to be, He should have said something. [Not let two powerless humans stop it.]
no subject
If your Father wanted Lucifer dead, why did he bother to make a Cage, Michael? Why not simply kill him?
He could have called me and it'd have been settled the same day. He had my number, I assure you.
If all God wanted was Lucifer dead, why did he bother to throw him in a cage? So Heaven and Hell could all build up resources and breed a long line of humans to be your optimum vessels? Having you travel through time and space to bully humans into giving you what you wanted? And then, of course, it all leads up to you and Lucifer destroying God's favorite planet and all the humans. Perhaps this is ignorant of me, but wasn't picking on the humans the entire reason for Lucifer's being Caged?
After all that's done, finally, Lucifer would be killed.
That's the plan you assumed your Father wanted you to do, right? In a nutshell.
I just don't get why God would make you go through all that trouble, just to do what could have been done when the whole issue began.
Why would He want all that beating around the bush that led to almost none of his children surviving, Michael? Why would God want that?
It's simple, really: He wouldn't.
You know why?
Because that's stupid.
no subject
But this is how it played out. And Michael isn't about to turn back now. Not in this vessel, not after a millenia of everything building up.]
I know this is what I was told to do from the beginning. Perhaps He simply wanted Lucifer tortured. I don't know. You would have to ask Him if He were even around to ask.
But He isn't. And this is what I was told to do.
[If He didn't go all 'going to the store for milk' and pull a disappearing act on them, maybe it would be different. If He told Michael not to do it, then he wouldn't of. But this is the last thing he remembers of his Father. And if he has any chance of getting him back, he truly believes it's this.
And he'll die trying.
Or end up in the Cage.]no subject
If you honestly believe that, Michael, you definitely didn't know your Father.
Which means you almost certainly had no idea what he wanted.
None of what you're doing was His plan, Michael. It's yours.
Just because God didn't charge back upstairs to bend you over his knee and spank you for it doesn't mean you're right. That doesn't make it His will. His will is what comes directly out of his mouth, Michael, and from nowhere else.
You want to go through with this Apocalypse of yours? Fine.
But own up to the fact that it's been your call. Don't try and hide behind His name and call yourself righteous. All you are, Michael, is an idiotic, bratty child who's acting up in hopes Daddy will come back home and put a stop on your nonsense. You're exactly the same as Lucifer.
Actually, no, that's not fair, is it? Lucifer could actually own up to the fact that his actions were made from his own decisions. He's actually better than you.
no subject
That ultimately God is fallible. It's not that Michael can't come to the point of admitting his wrong doings, though really it will only take Lucifer for him to push him there. After all, just like his Father, Michael is selfish. Killing his brother directly affects him. Everything else? Is a wash up.
Not that he wanted to kill Anna, but none of that can even be thought of until he breaks down certain things. And this version of Michael isn't even close to that point. Consequences mean nothing to him, not when he's this close to having everything work out the way it's supposed to.]
Funny how you think you've become a part of the family. It's easy to stand on the sidelines and judge, but you didn't live it. Whatever you think may have happened, fact is, you didn't live it.
All I know is I was commanded, and I did as I was told as the dutiful son. It was always meant to be, even Lucifer can admit that He must have known all along.
[What he can't say is 'What kind of father does that?'. Lucifer was put in the Cage for near eternity, to suffer. He had Michael put him there. How is not wanting his sons to kill each other that far of a stretch?]
no subject
in fact, he was given permission in a meta discussion belowfor being a little pissant, so long as Death revives him again in a timely manner. ]Oh, please, Michael. Part of your family? I think I'd rather be treated to a nice, soothing lobotomy than claim any sort of blood relation to you. Especially you, Michael.
This might come as a shock to you, but God didn't create me. We knew each other long before you were ever created. I watched you be created, in fact.
I know God, Michael. I know him a lot better than you do, or even think you do. You do not follow any commands of His.
To be quite frank, I couldn't care one whit about you or your brothers, Michael. I'd have killed all of you the very moment Lucifer pulled me up from that hole you angels planted me in, if not for the fact your Father loves you far more than you deserve.
That is the single reason you are standing where you are, right now, and not a heap of the bare basic parts that made you. You think God could stop me, if I wanted to annihilate you? He couldn't.
But He'd be a bit cross with me, so here you stand, despite the fact you disgrace His name.
no subject
[He says this bitterly. If God wanted His precious humans to be spared, he should have thought about that before abandoning not only them, but the angels as well.
Because that's what he did.
Besides Death, you can't kill him in meta land. Just like he can't kill Dean.]
no subject
[ The edges of Death's lips just curl, ever so slightly. Yes, he just used the opening line to this whole conversation, the conversation about how Michael was wrong.
Michael, he can do whatever he wants to you if his mun gives permission, ok.
But he can settle for just torturing you with implications of things he knows that you don't. ]
He made you all, Michael. You don't think God knows how to keep himself hidden from his own creations?
Like I said before. You're very naive.
gah, I need to not do Michael tags at the same time
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
Standing over here.
With his face in his hands.
Because wow there are some things you can say to Death and those things? They are not it.]
no subject
El.
El, your child.
Death's going to metaphorically turn him over his knee, El. ]
no subject
He knows.
He knows.
He would like to apologize for that now.]
no subject
If Mike keeps getting snippy, El, and treating him like the family pitbull... yeah, he's going to fake-kill him. Seriously.
Like, he's going to kill him really quick, then bring him back.
It builds character, El. ]
no subject
He was more surprised that Mot started laughing. It's been a very, very long time since he's heard that.
However, he's not necessarily sure he would stop Mot from his... character-building. So long as be brought Michael back.]
no subject
Also, you're not stupid, El. You'd never believe such things, nevermind say them. Your sons are entitled assholes.
He'll be decent enough to your brats, El. He knows you love them, and you're his friend. If they belonged to anyone else, they'd already be dead. ]
no subject
And he doesn't believe such things. He's never tried to command Mot to do anything. They were friends and that wasn't, is not, and will never be how they work.
He will admit they are a little bit self-entitled, yes. He was hoping they would learn. No such luck, apparently.
And he deeply appreciates the patience you have with his kids, Mot. He sincerely does.]
no subject
Mot's developed himself an immense amount of patience from being on this planet or, you know, buried miles beneath the surface, in a coffin wrapped in chains. He's just got a few little things that'll throw him over the edge, but nobody's perfect, alright. And no one should want to be, because perfect people are absolutely dull and annoying.
You've always been good to him, El. Really, do you think Mot would have followed you here and looked after all your babies if he thought, for even a moment, that you'd try to exploit him and treat him as anything less than an equal? Of course you don't, because Mot's doesn't play Abused Housewife for anyone
of the two of you, that'd probably be more you, El, and is well capable of packing his shit and moving over to another star system. He's here because you're here... and, you know, some of the things on Earth might have managed to grow on him. Maybe.But no more of this maudlin tripe. Luckily, this is meta.
Upstairs, by the way, he's kind of slapping Michael around the room with all that he's calling bullshit.
Mot's got a new Plan A: Try to make Michael cry. Plan B: Quick death. ]
no subject
And Mot has always been good to him, as well. Which is exactly why this partnership works as well as it does. Because neither of them would put up with the other's bullshit. And sure, maybe El's the more sympathetic and emphatic of the two of them, the fact remains that if Mot were to try and command him, well, there'd be just as many problems as the other way around. But Mot does, and he doesn't, and so it works.
He's very aware of what's happening Upstairs. And he would just like to say, here and now, that he's so relieved that someone in this universe understands him. Not that he ever thought that Mot didn't understand him or his actions, or that he wouldn't straight up ask if he honestly didn't understand but, after living as a prophet and everything since, and seeing evidence of Michael and Raphael not understanding, he's entirely too glad that someone does.
And, if he's continuing to be completely honest, he's glad that it's Mot.]
no subject
Now, whether or not Mot wants to actually give you what you want can be another matter entirely sometimes. But he knows you, and you know him. Of course it tastes like vinegar on the edge of his tongue to actually say it, but you're his best friend. More than that, you're his counterpart, Creation to his Destruction. Obviously, it follows that he feels rather obligated to represent you where you can't represent yourself, in a way you can't present yourself. You might think yourself to be someone that can put your foot down when you need to, but when it comes to your bratty boys, you really can't, and you won't.
Mot disapproves of it. He think you should have stuck around a little bit longer and maybe explained the concept of free will before you handed out the final exam, because clearly you tossed the angels into the deep end of the pool before you taught them how to swim. Most of them have sank. You should have left a damn note on the table before you ran away from Heaven, at least with little hints about what the challenge was, because all the angels are frothing at the damned mouth about it.
Mot's got plenty of things that he doesn't like about how you went about all this, but... he's supported them all anyway. That's just the kind of team player he is.
Which is why he's kind of miffed Michael recently implied he's tried to insert himself into the angel family, like it's some sort of Kool Kids Club with membership jacket. Not to be creepy or anything, bro, but he had you first. Fucking dibs. ]
Ugh, I feel like you should be given an award for putting up with all my typos.