canon is book of joby.

[machaseh]

. . . I was happy, you know. Even with Taubolt destroyed. I prefer to have a purpose, and you are not my Master to give me one.

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[machaseh]

[ Michael resists the urge to roll his eyes, which . . . is not an urge he's ever really gotten before. What have you done, Gabe! He's about to make this all vanish as well, but that will probably make whatever kind of game this is more hilarious for Gabriel, so he sits down in the nearest chair instead, looking remarkably dignified for an archangel in a strip club. ]

What was your point again?

[trickntreats]

[He's lightened up, that's all~ Gabriel grins, conjures up a couple of glasses of champaign, and drapes himself across Michael's shoulders while simultaneously shoving one of the glasses into the other Archangel's hands.]

Fun.

[machaseh]

[ The physical contact doesn't make him flinch, exactly, but it certainly doesn't relax him. It's not the kind he's used to, too quick and casual, and he glances up uncertainly at the other archangel. ]

I see. Is it fun for them?

[trickntreats]

[Gabriel's expression contorts a little between mocking indignation and some faint genuine objection.]

Duh. It's not much fun for us if it ain't fun for them, is it?

[machaseh]

You'd have to tell me.

[ Does this guy look like he gets action come on. ]

[trickntreats]

[Well he should be I mean fff.]

We need to get you laid, and fast. Heeeey!

[He signals a passing lady with an appreciative grin, and when she arrives, leaning on the back of his chair and giving Michael a very, very good view of her cleavage, he says:]

My brother here needs some lightening up. Know someone who might be able to oblige?