Enoch (
warriorscribe) wrote in
dear_mun2013-08-22 08:46 pm
Entry tags:
On canon info in his future
...I think I preferred it when you could only laugh at the way he drew me.
*But now one of those sentences rises from the page like a Ramp from shadows, defying any attempt to ignore it.
"That's right, I've fallen."
The operative word learned by this very canon and the knowledge to put it into context formally taught, between his mun's schooling and repetition it has caught her eye and his attention cannot be diverted.
It is a grim reminder that even if he succeeds in Animus, this awaits him.*
*But now one of those sentences rises from the page like a Ramp from shadows, defying any attempt to ignore it.
"That's right, I've fallen."
The operative word learned by this very canon and the knowledge to put it into context formally taught, between his mun's schooling and repetition it has caught her eye and his attention cannot be diverted.
It is a grim reminder that even if he succeeds in Animus, this awaits him.*

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[I hate to say I told you so, but... Oh wait, no he doesn't. He laughs at your misery. Quietly and to himself. He'd rather not get the business end of an angelic weapon to the face, thank you very much.]
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I wasn't in denial, only...well...
*Over its inevitability, yes. He thinks that he may see an exception, he himself and not the master copy, the canon original, because of his travels. He hopes that he, at least, can prevent Lucifel's fall.
Hell, part of him even hopes for redemption in canon, now that his canon is in hands that will move it and not let it stagnate. The future is wide open.
So, yes. He was absolutely in denial at its inevitability, and in a way still is, and he sees that as he speaks. The sight of Lucifel bloodied and weak in his arms is enough to cow him for the moment, and he can think of nothing better to say, his awkward trail into silence admitting for him he'd misspoken.*
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Thy words lack conviction. [There's malicious glee in his tone, and a sadistic grin tugging at the corners of his lips.] Misery becomes thee, Enoch.
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"Never mind that. There's nothing to be afraid of as long as we're together. Not even God..."
Even if she may be wrong, it strikes a nerve. Enoch draws a shaky breath, but it doesn't come out any steadier and sounds damper for it too.*
...So it does. It has for three hundred years.
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May it sting for many thousands more. [There's a slight hint of bitterness to the devil's tone as he speaks. He was once in His good graces as well, a loyal archangel with no greater joy than to serve Him. However, he loved Lucifer more, and eagerly followed him in rebellion and ultimately his Fall.
Perhaps they weren't so different after all in that respect.]
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I won't live thousands more.
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He can't even trust in death. One of those fragments must have his name, after all, does it have his identity too?*
Remind him...
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Not in thy mortal form, no, but do not think death will be an escape for thee. Souls are immortal, and thus thy troubles will persist for eternity.
[And then, a small smirk.] I am sure my Lord would welcome thee to his bosom when the time comes. [The devil allowed his tone convey the implications of Enoch going to Lucifer after his death. At the same time, his voice remained bitter, almost... jealous?]
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*He's bluffing with all he has to bluff with - his own name is among the seventy-two, isn't it? He has no guarantee it is oblivion. And yet at the realization that he is arguing to have it, there is a subtle shift in him. There's a look in his eyes, in the corners of his mouth, something hollow and manic. It's a subtle shift that could even be attributed to a trick of the light.*
Hahaha....are you hoping to devour my suffering? I have an end.
I just gotta say that I do enjoy their interactions immensely.
Devour? You? Nay, just witnessing it is enough. I enjoy watching the torment of those so close to Him.
...Still, with thy soul shattered, wouldst thou not be leaving thy dear friend to suffer alone? How cruel of thee.
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Make it so. The future rides on you now. Turn towards goodness and recruit for Heaven, where I sowed temptation and led astray. Do right where I've done wrong...
So do I! Even though I'm flying by the seat of my pants here because wtf even... o_o
Why shouldn't I leave too?
*The words come easy, too easy, a quiver beneath them showing that he still has enough sanity to be unnerved by his own thoughts and words. Somewhere in there he's aware there's something horribly wrong but the part of him that feels...almost liberated prevents him from having the motivation to do anything about it.*
idk but I'm amused.
Dost thou waver?
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It'll be fine...if I'm gone.
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[He knows he won't--can't follow Lucifer, but that doesn't stop him from feeling some level of disappointment. Not that he particularly cares for Enoch, but he does love his master, and not even devils completely lack compassion.]
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*The mania is fading. Suddenly, Enoch just looks tired. He can't continue, and when he does, it is not the serenity of encroaching madness that pervades it, but defeat and an inhumanly deep mental fatigue.*
It will be for the best, that I...
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Composing himself (though his face remains contorted with contempt), Mephistopheles continues.]
Take heed, Enoch. Devils do not forget. We cannot forget. We remember every slight, every betrayal, everything we hath lost millennia past. That thou wouldst presume... [He trails off, unable to continue lest he lash out again.]
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[She rests her forehead against his, placing her hands on his cheeks and looks him in the eyes.]
You have done nothing wrong. There was a reason you have been brought to Heaven. If others are lead astray, then it wasn't because of you.
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No, it's true. He'll forget...not only me, but his own brother, and his brother in kind... *A solemn shake of his head.* Only a few, if even those, will remember correctly the time he was an angel. I can only assume He was trying to protect Michael from falling, or my author wasn't sure he'd be able to freely write...
*A sigh as he trails off. He's sure he's given enough reason.*
Do you see...?
*He's gone from bluffing to keep him off him, to tired sincerity. He isn't sure what he'd want, were he there. Where he'd stand...*
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But they...everyone who was close to me...
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[She draws her head back a little to kiss the top of his head.]
There will always a ray of hope.
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But seeing it laid out plainly like this...he's overwhelmed. His heart doesn't know what to do with all of this, latching onto hope, finding despair, and dipping into the mania between in wild turns as he tries to come to terms with everything he's passively let be.
For all he strives for in Animus, this is what awaits him.*
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[Even if Enoch has broken into 72 pieces, wouldn't they all have shattered minds as well if there wasn't any hope?
Then again, they can only speak of Galiel...]
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*One of those pieces might be what's left of him... He's either nonexistent or forced to play witness to an act of God that would test the piety he holds so dear to its limits, possibly even break them.
And even worse, if, like Galiel and Gil, his free will would put him outside this act...*
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[She wipes away his tears.]
It'll be fine if I'm gone.
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*He catches both of Galiel's hands in his own. They're still trembling, and his eyes are still wet but behind those tears is a determination.*
Galiel, I don't know. I just don't - I don't know what I want, what to think, what to feel, what to hope for. But...you should live for your generation. I'm certain of that if nothing else.
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[If it were possible to exist for them at the same time... but as a fragment of him...]
We have all the time in the world.
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You do, at least.
*And with that, he pulls her into a tight hug. He may be hurting and confused but that he loves his children, immortal particularly so, no matter how they were born, is never a question.*