Semi-Scribbles

@scribe-proxy-and-deadpan-snarker

I mean, not your defining moments, but things not everyone would know. And nothing from your past, that anyone from a different universe could hold against you...

In that case, uh... yes, it is me as well...

It has been... Some time...

Ahem... Uh... Raphael... I don't think there are any hard feelings and he will probably be delighted to hear from you. He is doing well. We're not butting heads anymore. And he set up his clinic on earth as a permanent base. Helping with the influx and exodus of people... From and to other universes... Taking care of new arrivals... And uhm...

*choking a little*

I can't believe I stumbled upon you, after all these years... And in that universe of all things...

Ah, Raphael. I’m not entirely sure he’d be capable of holding a grudge, should he even want to. Which he wouldn’t. I’m glad he’s been keeping well. Make sure it stays that way, will you? I get the feeling he’d work his fingers to the bone if you’d let him.

It’s an odd little place, isn’t it? Feels like something of a storm’s brewing out there. Curiosity and the cat, you know; I just had to come take a peek, see what the locals are up to... Though after well and truly buggering a few of the other dimensions I’ve visited all to fuck, I’m trying this new approach called “minding my own business.” It doesn’t come naturally, definitely room for improvement, you know how much I enjoy sticking my fingers where they don’t belong. I’ve made a nice little home for myself in the universe back a bit and to the east of here. I think I found what I left to look for, in a way. Not entirely, perhaps, but enough, and I’m so very tired of the endless, restless wandering through space and time like an incredibly handsome and well dressed specter. Thought it was time for a break.

I mean... Unless you are implying you mastered plane walking and can move freely between places...?

That would positively exhilarate Raphael. He was visually vibrating on a high frequency when I informed him of me being in contact with you.

And believe me, he can hold a grudge, you gave him no reason though.

...

Just takes a little bit of practice is all, I know it looks like complete and total molecular obliteration at first but it’s really not so bad once you get in past your knees.

If you don't know how to put it into words... I'll be happy to probe your mind (with safe search on)

You know Raphael and I did not start out on the best footing because I was over protective and overly strict and you treating him with more liberty and as a sort of equal... Caused some heated arguments regarding how heaven did things back then. So nothing personal really. No escapades that would amuse you.

Please do, I won't let him know, so you can surprise him or her, depending what they are doing at the time. Looking forward to hearing how it went afterwards.

Ah, but I’m proud of you for listening. There was a time when Heaven as a whole would have no arguments, just the punishment. You progress, Enoch! You always do, and that I find plenty amusing.

If you think I couldn't afford you, I'll just cook for you myself... I mean... Don't use that name in public please...

And knowing you, it's going to be quite the vintage. Alright.

Other than that, just bring yourself, an appetite and a bit of time.

The dish doesn't take that long so I'll make it fresh when you're here... Just some general chopping in advance.

Well I do have a therapist for that because it's not Raphael's speciality.

Ah, a good idea! A human therapist, then? How does that go for you?

Ah not really a human therapist. I mean a therapist for humans yes, but they are an angel. One of our earth stationed ones, they opened shop and studied human psychology and psychiatry, to keep their cover. Which did become harder once humans actually started to treat psychiatric patients with a modicum of respect and dignity... So they are really good at being a psychiatrist for humans now...

So perfect for me, because I'm afraid since the main idea of therapy being "opening up" and talking about your trauma... A therapist for humans who is a human... Would probably prescribe me a nice cushioned room and a comfy self hugging jacket... What with the delusions of being a 6000 year old descendant of Adam infused with the powers of one of the highest angels... the whole God speaks through me and I shall enact her will... has a bit of a badly written insane cult zealot slasher movie vibe...

With a contented sigh, Raphaelle shoved the latest file in the ever growing pile of one-time-visitors. She’ll figure out later how exactly some humans knew she could fix complicated bone fractures… but the answer will likely be ‘you had the vibes‘ anyway, so she was not too concerned.

They got off with a referral to simply check if it healed correctly. And it should. She checked for infections, vital signs, bone density and all other complications that could interfere. The only ‘downside’ might be that this girl was going to overestimate heights-to-safely-jump-from for the rest of her life.

Good work, good mood due to an interesting procedure, and she could prepare for the next appointment.

Oh… riiiight.

The next file… was not in a pile. It was a pile. Most of it marked just pages with a ‘CONFIDENTIAL’-sign, a date, and a redirection to her lovely psychologist colleagues’ notes. There were more pages than last time. So that

Tapping her finger and looking at the flourishing plants… the waiting tea-set… the clean glasses, the neatly filed document… she huffed. There was nothing to prepare. She knew the patient perfectly well and had no need for a refresher.

She pulled out the phone and looked at the old messages… skimming through the ‘friendly reminders’ for the next appointments. Mmmmh.

After one minute of staring, she typed out:

’30 days of only perfectly punctual appointments with Metatron, Herald of the Almighty’

Will today be the 31st? Or is a reset warranted?

Hit send… and put it away.

She had no actual doubt that he would be there ten minutes before the time.

And she did know he’d only been five minutes late. And only to her office: Amurel had blatantly ignored some rule or another and then chewed his ear off with her explanations. He’s even be gracious about it!

He was on his way to the clinic, walking.

Strolling, actually, the rest of the way by foot.

Almost through the door. Because he knew he had time.

He would prefer showing up 15-20 minutes early but then he would have to wait and he does not like sitting in the waiting room with other patients and being... perceived... by Amurel.

Awkwardly waving or "white person smiling" at her when their eyes meet, then checking his watch, hoping she calls him in...

It is not like he is some sort of private patient who is above the others and demands to immediately be seen by the doctor, the moment he arrives.

If it was total strangers, it would be different. It's just awkward to sit there with other angels, because... What if they know who he is? What if they try to talk to him.

No one should talk to other people in a doctor's waiting room unless you came there with them.

So he arrives just in time or a little bit early and they don't make him sit in the waiting room.

That's how this works.

When he comes there for his regularily scheduled appointment, they wave him through.

Because Raphaelle is awaiting him. This is how it works.

So he's not teleporting, just walking by foot, halfway through a bagel. Because he walked past a shop and they had hung out a fresh batch and they smelled really good.

Then his wristband vibrates with a message from Raphael...

He reads the message on the tiny screen.

What? A reset? Why? Is he late? Daylight saving time was recently...

He switches to the watch face. No he's on time.

Just trying to poke him with a stick, huh?

He secures the bagel between his teeth and answers on his phone.

31? ... Funny, that's more than I ever attended originally... I AM on my way, though...

He pushes through the door, swallowing the last bits of the bagel, waving at the female presenting angel manning the reception.

"Hi there Amurel, nice day isn't it, I'll head right in, yes? She already texted me. Can't be late, right?"

An awkward chuckle.

Raphaelle’s phone actually received a message before Metatron arrived.

‘Funny?’ ‘More than he ever attended originally?’ What.

His last appointment was 31 days ago… He’d been late. He’s supposed to be punctual. It… wasn’t that hard to get, was it? What was funny?

The old feeling of long-held irritation resurfaced. Just why was he like that. Just… ugh.

She took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose. If it was anyone else. She’d be perfectly fine with it, might even find explanations. But… nah. Just… nope.

The doorbell was chiming, Amurel greeted the arrival with: “Absolutely fantastic day, indeed! You know the drill, sir, go riiight past the door”

Raphaelle rolled her eyes. Sure. Why not.

And through the door comes a man with bagel crumbs all over him.

She stood up behind her desk and held out her hand, with him she was supposed to check his vitals like that. From what she saw slightly elevated heartbeat, stress levels up, cool skin, but higher temperature. Lets see…

“Aaaand you made it. Without stops or delays,” bagel-breakfasts not withstanding, “… what exactly do you mean with-,“ she glanced at the phone in her other hand “- ‘funny, that’s more than I ever attended originally’?”

Good, good, no stop this time and from a glance, no documents laying around openly visible either...

An internal sigh and he was through the door, save.

Raphaelle, indeed female form this time, offered her hand and he gave her a firm handshake.

He always wondered if the slight tingling meant he could feel that he was being checked... Or if his brain just made him tingle because it assumed he should feel it.

Like stepping on one of those body fat scales. Do you feel the little electricity or do you just think you feel it and therefor you do?

At least she got better at reading people without cheating. He had indeed walked faster here. Apparently he had eaten cheese - his body still didn't quite accept it without a reaction - and it was cold-ish outside. That worked.

Now... thirty... check-ups? The old Raphael?

She stared at him. Then at her phone, scrolling up.

It said '30 days of perfectly punctual...'

Oh dear. Okay. So... in his mind... that meant...

"You... thought... we had... 31 appointments? In total?"

Apparently, they could not have been that bad, then...

"Since... August 2015, every single month... we had... exactly 31 apointments?" She tilted her head. He was not terrible at math. He probably just... didn't think. Yeah. That.... yeah, that sounded like a thing he did. "Well, no matter"

"No need to be sorry. It's in the past. You do mostly attend your appointments now. So... ah... welcome to your 94th. I suppose"

She would not explain what words meant to him now.

"Not all of them punctual, but today... you certainly were"

“… yes. Yes, it’s almost a hundred. I’m… that’s how numbers work, yes!” She rubbed her forehead. It’s… he just didn’t think about it. That’s fair. Right?

She just stared at him when he said it was one time. It… this should come with emotional damages.

“Metatron… you come here at the last minute possible and don’t ever talk to anyone if you can possibly avoid it. You’re avoiding the waiting room. It’s fine, but my receptionists do start to wonder. They are usually well received, doing their job.” If Metatron made them a bad conscience, she can hand it down. Or up, from their perspective.

“Less sunlight means your vitamin A and D levels are down and you are more anxious than usual – which is not great, especially for you. But… is there… any… new contacts? Did you… go new places? Enjoyed – or hated -  any new food?” She wrinkled her nose. “How are you wings?”

Cool, cool, cool cool, so no pat on the head for doing almost a hundred appointments. Okay. Maybe when they actually get there, yes.

Oh she used the name to adress him, that's for attention. Not good probably...

"Well... I mean. Waiting rooms are for waiting..." yes very smart. She will probably comment on that.

"For when someone is early for their appointment I mean, or when their time slot is up, but the previous one is taking longer or the doctor had to shove in an emergency and... Those things don't happen at your clinic. So there is no need to wait and... There's no need to be early for me? I feel like it would be weird to go early to a doctor's appointment because you want to sit in the waiting room with other, possibly sick people? Like going there specifically to meet people? Who does that?! Come on... They have their own problems."

Like who is chatting up people in a doctor's waiting room. Like who would want to be chatted up in a waiting room?!

"... If you want, I guess I could... Flirt a bit with your staff before before the appointment? I don't want them to think I don't like them? " he pictured himself leaning with one elbow on the reception counter, giving Amurel a suave smile and eyebrow wriggle, upon which she put her hand up to cover her wide mouthed laugh like a housewife in a 60s TV show...

This whole scene was very fake, that wasn't going to happen that way ever...

"I do get out in the day a lot though..." defenses went up involuntarily before being accused of working too much and being holed up in the office all d-Oh because of autumn, yes... There's generally less light... But surely that didn't make him more anxious, did it? - he asked like an anxious person.

He was bracing himself for her reaction on his blunder. She did not appreciate it when he made excuses or defended himself... Maybe if he gave her some new info, she would overlook it.

"Well I did go to a very interesting hot dog parlour and actually met an old-" he was a bit surprised over his choice of following word there and hesitated before speaking it out for a little moment.

"-friend there... They over non-pork hot dog variants so that's a great thing for me? And uh..." ah yes the wings.

And that... Was how words worked. Wonderful. They will end up with a whole elementary-course at the end of the day.

A frown started to built between her brows. She looked away. This was... fiiiiine. Surely.

"The world is... full of different people, and some of them take solace in sharing their burdens. We did learn that is very much not your - or any other recurring guests - way of doing thing. I wonder why that is." She hissed out from between her gritted teeth.

But... it really was not his fault and at this very moment she was simply being unfair. Not a good feeling. "I... apologise. It's really not a good idea to engage in this behaviour, if you are not suited for it. But that counts for any kind of behaviour. Please... refrain from flirting with my staff - and therefore, by extension, your staff" And that most likely was the end of that, because he certainly did know more about rules than her.

"Oh. Name is 'Acoste', by any chance? You mentioned them before. They did come by to check if we are 'chill' with a demon around the area before they opened the place. And offered hot dog delivery. I'm still not entirely sure what this was about, but... I am glad for you" That... actually made a positive note. When he was not... in a state of distress.

And then... the wings.

Mh.

"72 is... an excessive number. And I would actually like to know how you keep track of it... and in some cases how you manage to take care of them alone. But... if you say you have it under control... I will have to trust you." While she explained that, Raphael took a bottle of water from the side, opened it in front of her patient, filled a glass... and set it on the other side of the table.

"Now. If I put this in front of you... what does come to your mind?" And they had... basic biology. Also elementary school, she supposed? Humans needed water to live? Was that a thing he also remembered?

Mh. It had been a thoughtless comment. But... she had apologised for it. It... letting it go was the right choice. It's fine. No use in arguing about waiting rooms anyway. It was fine.

Small talk with his own (by extension) subordinates might still be a good idea. He had become more sociable, after all.

"If the patient is accepting of demons or if demon contacts are alright from a... humanitarian standpoint... we certainly can consider it. It's not a long way. Or... if you wholeheartedly embrace this business without any reservations...?" She raised a brow at him. That really would be a bit of a 180 degree turn, if it's the case? Wholeheartedly accepting a demon?

When he started talking about 'association games' with the glass of water it... It really made her wonder if she should just... not try to let him come to conclusions in front of her. Apparently it was bound to disappoint. It... Jeez.

"You... were supposed to remember that you haven't drunken anything since breakfast. And maybe, that you also need hydration for proper wing growth" and possibly *drink* it.

"But... If... we are already have... Something there?" She eyed the water cooker on the 'therapy table', it wouldn't take long, water was still hot. But... "... Do you... Want... Some tea? You know the usual selection" they would just need to relocate over to a more... Tea-party-alike place. Not her desk. No big deal, correct?

"Yes of course. I mean, I haven't eaten there thaaaat often yet. So I can't fully vouch for them. And naturally I can't really give any review of the pork dishes. They did seem up to code and regulations though."

And hygiene is very important when it comes to food. Especially in mix and match ingredient bars.

He wasn't going to tell Raphael that what with the cozy backrooms and hookahs, the ulterior motive of this business model was fairly clear...

That was not however relevant to any food delivery orders the clinic would place with them.

Unless they offered delivery of recreational consumables as well...

Hopefully Ronove would know not to do that with a clinic though?

"Ah, that makes sense... Terrifying how you know the exact time frame but, true, now that you mention it..." alright, that's fair. He was supposed to stay well hydrated and that proved more difficult than expected. Maybe he should set alerts on his phone and carry a water bottle with him at all times.

"Well I... would prefer tea over plain water, if you don't mind." he cocked his head, she seemed reluctant. "We don't have to though, if it's a hassle... Water is fine..." he said, reaching for the glass and beginning to sip.

"That's sensible... Do you have a specific water brand that you put in the waitroom? Regarding the minerals for wings and such?"

"So... you say... demon services for the clinic are to be encouraged and embraced." She was just.. .a little bit surprised, but... then it was perfectly well sanctioned. Good, then? "I'll contact them"

She shook her head and gestured over into the room: "There's the tea-place, Metatron... you just have to walk and sit and I'll follow. You'd have to tell me a little more about your last month, though. Which *is* why you are here. But the water is already a good idea... you DO need to drink more," he still had to make the decision though. If he wanted to cut his visit short, he was entirely entited to it.

Demonservices... It wasn't a black mass, it was hot dog delivery.

"... Well if you call it that, then no... But the business isn't especially demonic? It's a restaurant catering to humans with perfectly normal food, if you can call hot dogs normal... no 'evil additives and satanic ingredients'... It's just run by demons who offer additional complimentary services that could lead to sinning, but the food is perfectly fine... I think... "

Yes, naturally they should not really support demons or anything that lead to sinning... But to be fair... This kind of sloth was bordering on health support, in this stressful day and age.

His voice became a little less sure. "... I mean, I know we are technically on opposite sides, but we do have an armistice... And you offer treatment of demons here so they can offer their services to angels, no? We just have to remind our angels to keep an open mind to the dangers of sinning, that comes with ready delivered meals..." he emptied the glass and very carefully set it down on the desk.

"But that is what free will is about, right? You get the freedom to chose, but also the burden of actually having to think about your choices... No more being physically and mentally unable to sin by default." he shrugged with a helpless smile.

"I have faith in our angels to be able to withstand the allure of Ronove's cooking... So, uh, to answer your question... you can officially use them as a caterer." he bit his lip and furrowed his brow.

"If you want. Hot dogs are still a kind of 'unhealthy' fast food, even if these promote slow leisure."

He put his hands on the armrests and pushed himself up. Right, if she says it's okay. Then they can have tea. It's a good exercise in getting to be more comfortable in the clinic and with Raphael. To open up and be more social.

"Well, I drank it now at least..." getting up and turning towards the tea corner, he made an inviting gesture toward it. Already feeling awkward about it in the very moment. Ladies first was a bit old fashioned and how much would it even apply to a being that changes their gender expression based on the perceived comfort of their current patient?

"- I'd like... Hibiscus then... With a half spoon of honey, if you have." surely warm tea would calm his nerves. It wasn't the clinic. It was just him being a bit flakey today. Cough him on the wrong foot with that message and he had not managed to proberly settle into the appointment yet. It will be fine with some tea.

“I’ll make note of it. Sure. I’ll watch my subordinates reactions and… I don’t predict any sinning, so… I do believe it will work out just fine. Caterer Acquired.” He really HAD changed his stance, there. And it would be a bit of paperwork. Sure enough, though. They could use one.

Raphael walked over to the tea-place and flicked on the water cooker. Any awkward gestures ignored in favour of picking the tea out and placing two glasses next to the device.

And then swirling the honey onto the honey-spoon, to sink it into Metatron’s.

“Sure.” She sat and tapped her lips with an outstretched finger, looking over at him.

What in the world would they be talking about… this was a physical check-up.

Somehow it felt really good to sort of help Ronove to get more customers. Even if he knew perfectly well that the demon didn't do it for the financial business, but to get people to slow down.

He raised an eyebrow and stared at the back of her head. Trying to parse the tone of her voice, he sat down, a little uncomfortable.

Was she calling him out on the unhealthy food? - All the hot dogs or on the amount? Was she commenting on his weight?

"I don't think I ate that many hot dogs... yet? Not an unreasonable amount? " well if she saw it as a medical problem, she should tell him.

Ooof the shrimp thing. That was still a bit weird and his mouth felt dry. Maybe his shrimp genes craved the moisture...

"I really can not tell you if my preferences changed. I don't have much data to compare." he rubbed the back of his neck. "Shellfish was not allowed back then and we barely if ever had access to scaled, finned fish. Actually, not really a varied and ranged diet to begin with, or to pick favourites from comparing to nowadays?" he did prefer lamb over goat but that was pretty much it? They had nuts and berries and some grains. Most modern staple foods didn't exist in an edible form back then... No rice or potatoes, no corn or bell peppers.

"And then I did not eat anything for 5000 years..." Modern human food culture was very literally a cornucopia of flavours and choices for his taste buds.

Explanations about his food-behaviour... And how it really does not give her any information. Uuugh. FINE. So that didn't go anywhere either.

"Is it bad you ate something you later got DNA-infused with... after the shrimp most definitely had left your digestive tract... And you even changed form" She stared a long moment at him...

Then shrugged: "I can't know with absolute certainty. Of course. Since certainly no one has ever done a study. But... chances are slim that it had any effect. I mean... even if your body still retained some of the eaten shrimp... the particular type was an opportunist. If they encountered a dead shrimp... Good appetite. Cannibalism isn't that horrendous when your food is so similar to you"

... She raised her brow, doubtfully: "You don't have any inclinations towards THAT now, do you?"

Yes obviously the shrimps from 2012 were long gone by then, that wasn't the point. And he was pretty sure Raphael knew that.

He furrowed his brow and watched Raphael with a somewhat salty expression. Like a brine shrimp... Nodding attentively and listening quietly until she was done, ready to talk about more modern food and things he might enjoy. He did like sushi and he was not aware that shrimp just sometimes ate other shrimp, so it was okay that he did like shrimp, especially of the popcorn variant.. But then she hit him out of left field with the possible cannibalistic tendencies.

"I'm gonna devour you, if you keep being like that... I meant on a metaphysical or spiritual level, or that it is a bit weird that the first thing I ate, arguably the first step to reconnecting with my humanity, was shrimp and it's the bloody lobster telomerase that allows me to keep my human body in an arguably more humane and ethical way than Prime healing me 24/7... You know..." he spread his hands in a gesture, kind of like a magician. "What a strange yet poetically beautiful coincidence..." his voice maybe a tad more sarcastic than he had intended... "Like it was planned all along... In some sort of ineffable plan maybe... You know I would rather starve than hurt you guys..."

He huffed and fell back deeply into the chair. Crossing his arms, pouting a little.

With a contented sigh, Raphaelle shoved the latest file in the ever growing pile of one-time-visitors. She’ll figure out later how exactly some humans knew she could fix complicated bone fractures… but the answer will likely be ‘you had the vibes‘ anyway, so she was not too concerned.

They got off with a referral to simply check if it healed correctly. And it should. She checked for infections, vital signs, bone density and all other complications that could interfere. The only ‘downside’ might be that this girl was going to overestimate heights-to-safely-jump-from for the rest of her life.

Good work, good mood due to an interesting procedure, and she could prepare for the next appointment.

Oh… riiiight.

The next file… was not in a pile. It was a pile. Most of it marked just pages with a ‘CONFIDENTIAL’-sign, a date, and a redirection to her lovely psychologist colleagues’ notes. There were more pages than last time. So that

Tapping her finger and looking at the flourishing plants… the waiting tea-set… the clean glasses, the neatly filed document… she huffed. There was nothing to prepare. She knew the patient perfectly well and had no need for a refresher.

She pulled out the phone and looked at the old messages… skimming through the ‘friendly reminders’ for the next appointments. Mmmmh.

After one minute of staring, she typed out:

’30 days of only perfectly punctual appointments with Metatron, Herald of the Almighty’

Will today be the 31st? Or is a reset warranted?

Hit send… and put it away.

She had no actual doubt that he would be there ten minutes before the time.

And she did know he’d only been five minutes late. And only to her office: Amurel had blatantly ignored some rule or another and then chewed his ear off with her explanations. He’s even be gracious about it!

He was on his way to the clinic, walking.

Strolling, actually, the rest of the way by foot.

Almost through the door. Because he knew he had time.

He would prefer showing up 15-20 minutes early but then he would have to wait and he does not like sitting in the waiting room with other patients and being... perceived... by Amurel.

Awkwardly waving or "white person smiling" at her when their eyes meet, then checking his watch, hoping she calls him in...

It is not like he is some sort of private patient who is above the others and demands to immediately be seen by the doctor, the moment he arrives.

If it was total strangers, it would be different. It's just awkward to sit there with other angels, because... What if they know who he is? What if they try to talk to him.

No one should talk to other people in a doctor's waiting room unless you came there with them.

So he arrives just in time or a little bit early and they don't make him sit in the waiting room.

That's how this works.

When he comes there for his regularily scheduled appointment, they wave him through.

Because Raphaelle is awaiting him. This is how it works.

So he's not teleporting, just walking by foot, halfway through a bagel. Because he walked past a shop and they had hung out a fresh batch and they smelled really good.

Then his wristband vibrates with a message from Raphael...

He reads the message on the tiny screen.

What? A reset? Why? Is he late? Daylight saving time was recently...

He switches to the watch face. No he's on time.

Just trying to poke him with a stick, huh?

He secures the bagel between his teeth and answers on his phone.

31? ... Funny, that's more than I ever attended originally... I AM on my way, though...

He pushes through the door, swallowing the last bits of the bagel, waving at the female presenting angel manning the reception.

"Hi there Amurel, nice day isn't it, I'll head right in, yes? She already texted me. Can't be late, right?"

An awkward chuckle.

Raphaelle’s phone actually received a message before Metatron arrived.

‘Funny?’ ‘More than he ever attended originally?’ What.

His last appointment was 31 days ago… He’d been late. He’s supposed to be punctual. It… wasn’t that hard to get, was it? What was funny?

The old feeling of long-held irritation resurfaced. Just why was he like that. Just… ugh.

She took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose. If it was anyone else. She’d be perfectly fine with it, might even find explanations. But… nah. Just… nope.

The doorbell was chiming, Amurel greeted the arrival with: “Absolutely fantastic day, indeed! You know the drill, sir, go riiight past the door”

Raphaelle rolled her eyes. Sure. Why not.

And through the door comes a man with bagel crumbs all over him.

She stood up behind her desk and held out her hand, with him she was supposed to check his vitals like that. From what she saw slightly elevated heartbeat, stress levels up, cool skin, but higher temperature. Lets see…

“Aaaand you made it. Without stops or delays,” bagel-breakfasts not withstanding, “… what exactly do you mean with-,“ she glanced at the phone in her other hand “- ‘funny, that’s more than I ever attended originally’?”

Good, good, no stop this time and from a glance, no documents laying around openly visible either...

An internal sigh and he was through the door, save.

Raphaelle, indeed female form this time, offered her hand and he gave her a firm handshake.

He always wondered if the slight tingling meant he could feel that he was being checked... Or if his brain just made him tingle because it assumed he should feel it.

Like stepping on one of those body fat scales. Do you feel the little electricity or do you just think you feel it and therefor you do?

At least she got better at reading people without cheating. He had indeed walked faster here. Apparently he had eaten cheese - his body still didn't quite accept it without a reaction - and it was cold-ish outside. That worked.

Now... thirty... check-ups? The old Raphael?

She stared at him. Then at her phone, scrolling up.

It said '30 days of perfectly punctual...'

Oh dear. Okay. So... in his mind... that meant...

"You... thought... we had... 31 appointments? In total?"

Apparently, they could not have been that bad, then...

"Since... August 2015, every single month... we had... exactly 31 apointments?" She tilted her head. He was not terrible at math. He probably just... didn't think. Yeah. That.... yeah, that sounded like a thing he did. "Well, no matter"

"No need to be sorry. It's in the past. You do mostly attend your appointments now. So... ah... welcome to your 94th. I suppose"

She would not explain what words meant to him now.

"Not all of them punctual, but today... you certainly were"

“… yes. Yes, it’s almost a hundred. I’m… that’s how numbers work, yes!” She rubbed her forehead. It’s… he just didn’t think about it. That’s fair. Right?

She just stared at him when he said it was one time. It… this should come with emotional damages.

“Metatron… you come here at the last minute possible and don’t ever talk to anyone if you can possibly avoid it. You’re avoiding the waiting room. It’s fine, but my receptionists do start to wonder. They are usually well received, doing their job.” If Metatron made them a bad conscience, she can hand it down. Or up, from their perspective.

“Less sunlight means your vitamin A and D levels are down and you are more anxious than usual – which is not great, especially for you. But… is there… any… new contacts? Did you… go new places? Enjoyed – or hated -  any new food?” She wrinkled her nose. “How are you wings?”

Cool, cool, cool cool, so no pat on the head for doing almost a hundred appointments. Okay. Maybe when they actually get there, yes.

Oh she used the name to adress him, that's for attention. Not good probably...

"Well... I mean. Waiting rooms are for waiting..." yes very smart. She will probably comment on that.

"For when someone is early for their appointment I mean, or when their time slot is up, but the previous one is taking longer or the doctor had to shove in an emergency and... Those things don't happen at your clinic. So there is no need to wait and... There's no need to be early for me? I feel like it would be weird to go early to a doctor's appointment because you want to sit in the waiting room with other, possibly sick people? Like going there specifically to meet people? Who does that?! Come on... They have their own problems."

Like who is chatting up people in a doctor's waiting room. Like who would want to be chatted up in a waiting room?!

"... If you want, I guess I could... Flirt a bit with your staff before before the appointment? I don't want them to think I don't like them? " he pictured himself leaning with one elbow on the reception counter, giving Amurel a suave smile and eyebrow wriggle, upon which she put her hand up to cover her wide mouthed laugh like a housewife in a 60s TV show...

This whole scene was very fake, that wasn't going to happen that way ever...

"I do get out in the day a lot though..." defenses went up involuntarily before being accused of working too much and being holed up in the office all d-Oh because of autumn, yes... There's generally less light... But surely that didn't make him more anxious, did it? - he asked like an anxious person.

He was bracing himself for her reaction on his blunder. She did not appreciate it when he made excuses or defended himself... Maybe if he gave her some new info, she would overlook it.

"Well I did go to a very interesting hot dog parlour and actually met an old-" he was a bit surprised over his choice of following word there and hesitated before speaking it out for a little moment.

"-friend there... They over non-pork hot dog variants so that's a great thing for me? And uh..." ah yes the wings.

And that... Was how words worked. Wonderful. They will end up with a whole elementary-course at the end of the day.

A frown started to built between her brows. She looked away. This was... fiiiiine. Surely.

"The world is... full of different people, and some of them take solace in sharing their burdens. We did learn that is very much not your - or any other recurring guests - way of doing thing. I wonder why that is." She hissed out from between her gritted teeth.

But... it really was not his fault and at this very moment she was simply being unfair. Not a good feeling. "I... apologise. It's really not a good idea to engage in this behaviour, if you are not suited for it. But that counts for any kind of behaviour. Please... refrain from flirting with my staff - and therefore, by extension, your staff" And that most likely was the end of that, because he certainly did know more about rules than her.

"Oh. Name is 'Acoste', by any chance? You mentioned them before. They did come by to check if we are 'chill' with a demon around the area before they opened the place. And offered hot dog delivery. I'm still not entirely sure what this was about, but... I am glad for you" That... actually made a positive note. When he was not... in a state of distress.

And then... the wings.

Mh.

"72 is... an excessive number. And I would actually like to know how you keep track of it... and in some cases how you manage to take care of them alone. But... if you say you have it under control... I will have to trust you." While she explained that, Raphael took a bottle of water from the side, opened it in front of her patient, filled a glass... and set it on the other side of the table.

"Now. If I put this in front of you... what does come to your mind?" And they had... basic biology. Also elementary school, she supposed? Humans needed water to live? Was that a thing he also remembered?

Mh. It had been a thoughtless comment. But... she had apologised for it. It... letting it go was the right choice. It's fine. No use in arguing about waiting rooms anyway. It was fine.

Small talk with his own (by extension) subordinates might still be a good idea. He had become more sociable, after all.

"If the patient is accepting of demons or if demon contacts are alright from a... humanitarian standpoint... we certainly can consider it. It's not a long way. Or... if you wholeheartedly embrace this business without any reservations...?" She raised a brow at him. That really would be a bit of a 180 degree turn, if it's the case? Wholeheartedly accepting a demon?

When he started talking about 'association games' with the glass of water it... It really made her wonder if she should just... not try to let him come to conclusions in front of her. Apparently it was bound to disappoint. It... Jeez.

"You... were supposed to remember that you haven't drunken anything since breakfast. And maybe, that you also need hydration for proper wing growth" and possibly *drink* it.

"But... If... we are already have... Something there?" She eyed the water cooker on the 'therapy table', it wouldn't take long, water was still hot. But... "... Do you... Want... Some tea? You know the usual selection" they would just need to relocate over to a more... Tea-party-alike place. Not her desk. No big deal, correct?

"Yes of course. I mean, I haven't eaten there thaaaat often yet. So I can't fully vouch for them. And naturally I can't really give any review of the pork dishes. They did seem up to code and regulations though."

And hygiene is very important when it comes to food. Especially in mix and match ingredient bars.

He wasn't going to tell Raphael that what with the cozy backrooms and hookahs, the ulterior motive of this business model was fairly clear...

That was not however relevant to any food delivery orders the clinic would place with them.

Unless they offered delivery of recreational consumables as well...

Hopefully Ronove would know not to do that with a clinic though?

"Ah, that makes sense... Terrifying how you know the exact time frame but, true, now that you mention it..." alright, that's fair. He was supposed to stay well hydrated and that proved more difficult than expected. Maybe he should set alerts on his phone and carry a water bottle with him at all times.

"Well I... would prefer tea over plain water, if you don't mind." he cocked his head, she seemed reluctant. "We don't have to though, if it's a hassle... Water is fine..." he said, reaching for the glass and beginning to sip.

"That's sensible... Do you have a specific water brand that you put in the waitroom? Regarding the minerals for wings and such?"

"So... you say... demon services for the clinic are to be encouraged and embraced." She was just.. .a little bit surprised, but... then it was perfectly well sanctioned. Good, then? "I'll contact them"

She shook her head and gestured over into the room: "There's the tea-place, Metatron... you just have to walk and sit and I'll follow. You'd have to tell me a little more about your last month, though. Which *is* why you are here. But the water is already a good idea... you DO need to drink more," he still had to make the decision though. If he wanted to cut his visit short, he was entirely entited to it.

Demonservices... It wasn't a black mass, it was hot dog delivery.

"... Well if you call it that, then no... But the business isn't especially demonic? It's a restaurant catering to humans with perfectly normal food, if you can call hot dogs normal... no 'evil additives and satanic ingredients'... It's just run by demons who offer additional complimentary services that could lead to sinning, but the food is perfectly fine... I think... "

Yes, naturally they should not really support demons or anything that lead to sinning... But to be fair... This kind of sloth was bordering on health support, in this stressful day and age.

His voice became a little less sure. "... I mean, I know we are technically on opposite sides, but we do have an armistice... And you offer treatment of demons here so they can offer their services to angels, no? We just have to remind our angels to keep an open mind to the dangers of sinning, that comes with ready delivered meals..." he emptied the glass and very carefully set it down on the desk.

"But that is what free will is about, right? You get the freedom to chose, but also the burden of actually having to think about your choices... No more being physically and mentally unable to sin by default." he shrugged with a helpless smile.

"I have faith in our angels to be able to withstand the allure of Ronove's cooking... So, uh, to answer your question... you can officially use them as a caterer." he bit his lip and furrowed his brow.

"If you want. Hot dogs are still a kind of 'unhealthy' fast food, even if these promote slow leisure."

He put his hands on the armrests and pushed himself up. Right, if she says it's okay. Then they can have tea. It's a good exercise in getting to be more comfortable in the clinic and with Raphael. To open up and be more social.

"Well, I drank it now at least..." getting up and turning towards the tea corner, he made an inviting gesture toward it. Already feeling awkward about it in the very moment. Ladies first was a bit old fashioned and how much would it even apply to a being that changes their gender expression based on the perceived comfort of their current patient?

"- I'd like... Hibiscus then... With a half spoon of honey, if you have." surely warm tea would calm his nerves. It wasn't the clinic. It was just him being a bit flakey today. Cough him on the wrong foot with that message and he had not managed to proberly settle into the appointment yet. It will be fine with some tea.

“I’ll make note of it. Sure. I’ll watch my subordinates reactions and… I don’t predict any sinning, so… I do believe it will work out just fine. Caterer Acquired.” He really HAD changed his stance, there. And it would be a bit of paperwork. Sure enough, though. They could use one.

Raphael walked over to the tea-place and flicked on the water cooker. Any awkward gestures ignored in favour of picking the tea out and placing two glasses next to the device.

And then swirling the honey onto the honey-spoon, to sink it into Metatron’s.

“Sure.” She sat and tapped her lips with an outstretched finger, looking over at him.

What in the world would they be talking about… this was a physical check-up.

Somehow it felt really good to sort of help Ronove to get more customers. Even if he knew perfectly well that the demon didn't do it for the financial business, but to get people to slow down.

He raised an eyebrow and stared at the back of her head. Trying to parse the tone of her voice, he sat down, a little uncomfortable.

Was she calling him out on the unhealthy food? - All the hot dogs or on the amount? Was she commenting on his weight?

"I don't think I ate that many hot dogs... yet? Not an unreasonable amount? " well if she saw it as a medical problem, she should tell him.

Ooof the shrimp thing. That was still a bit weird and his mouth felt dry. Maybe his shrimp genes craved the moisture...

"I really can not tell you if my preferences changed. I don't have much data to compare." he rubbed the back of his neck. "Shellfish was not allowed back then and we barely if ever had access to scaled, finned fish. Actually, not really a varied and ranged diet to begin with, or to pick favourites from comparing to nowadays?" he did prefer lamb over goat but that was pretty much it? They had nuts and berries and some grains. Most modern staple foods didn't exist in an edible form back then... No rice or potatoes, no corn or bell peppers.

"And then I did not eat anything for 5000 years..." Modern human food culture was very literally a cornucopia of flavours and choices for his taste buds.

@scribe-proxy-and-deadpan-snarker

I mean, not your defining moments, but things not everyone would know. And nothing from your past, that anyone from a different universe could hold against you...

In that case, uh... yes, it is me as well...

It has been... Some time...

Ahem... Uh... Raphael... I don't think there are any hard feelings and he will probably be delighted to hear from you. He is doing well. We're not butting heads anymore. And he set up his clinic on earth as a permanent base. Helping with the influx and exodus of people... From and to other universes... Taking care of new arrivals... And uhm...

*choking a little*

I can't believe I stumbled upon you, after all these years... And in that universe of all things...

Ah, Raphael. I’m not entirely sure he’d be capable of holding a grudge, should he even want to. Which he wouldn’t. I’m glad he’s been keeping well. Make sure it stays that way, will you? I get the feeling he’d work his fingers to the bone if you’d let him.

It’s an odd little place, isn’t it? Feels like something of a storm’s brewing out there. Curiosity and the cat, you know; I just had to come take a peek, see what the locals are up to... Though after well and truly buggering a few of the other dimensions I’ve visited all to fuck, I’m trying this new approach called “minding my own business.” It doesn’t come naturally, definitely room for improvement, you know how much I enjoy sticking my fingers where they don’t belong. I’ve made a nice little home for myself in the universe back a bit and to the east of here. I think I found what I left to look for, in a way. Not entirely, perhaps, but enough, and I’m so very tired of the endless, restless wandering through space and time like an incredibly handsome and well dressed specter. Thought it was time for a break.

I mean... Unless you are implying you mastered plane walking and can move freely between places...?

That would positively exhilarate Raphael. He was visually vibrating on a high frequency when I informed him of me being in contact with you.

And believe me, he can hold a grudge, you gave him no reason though.

...

Just takes a little bit of practice is all, I know it looks like complete and total molecular obliteration at first but it’s really not so bad once you get in past your knees.

If you don't know how to put it into words... I'll be happy to probe your mind (with safe search on)

You know Raphael and I did not start out on the best footing because I was over protective and overly strict and you treating him with more liberty and as a sort of equal... Caused some heated arguments regarding how heaven did things back then. So nothing personal really. No escapades that would amuse you.

Please do, I won't let him know, so you can surprise him or her, depending what they are doing at the time. Looking forward to hearing how it went afterwards.

Ah, but I’m proud of you for listening. There was a time when Heaven as a whole would have no arguments, just the punishment. You progress, Enoch! You always do, and that I find plenty amusing.

If you think I couldn't afford you, I'll just cook for you myself... I mean... Don't use that name in public please...

And knowing you, it's going to be quite the vintage. Alright.

Other than that, just bring yourself, an appetite and a bit of time.

The dish doesn't take that long so I'll make it fresh when you're here... Just some general chopping in advance.

Well I do have a therapist for that because it's not Raphael's speciality.

With a contented sigh, Raphaelle shoved the latest file in the ever growing pile of one-time-visitors. She’ll figure out later how exactly some humans knew she could fix complicated bone fractures… but the answer will likely be ‘you had the vibes‘ anyway, so she was not too concerned.

They got off with a referral to simply check if it healed correctly. And it should. She checked for infections, vital signs, bone density and all other complications that could interfere. The only ‘downside’ might be that this girl was going to overestimate heights-to-safely-jump-from for the rest of her life.

Good work, good mood due to an interesting procedure, and she could prepare for the next appointment.

Oh… riiiight.

The next file… was not in a pile. It was a pile. Most of it marked just pages with a ‘CONFIDENTIAL’-sign, a date, and a redirection to her lovely psychologist colleagues’ notes. There were more pages than last time. So that

Tapping her finger and looking at the flourishing plants… the waiting tea-set… the clean glasses, the neatly filed document… she huffed. There was nothing to prepare. She knew the patient perfectly well and had no need for a refresher.

She pulled out the phone and looked at the old messages… skimming through the ‘friendly reminders’ for the next appointments. Mmmmh.

After one minute of staring, she typed out:

’30 days of only perfectly punctual appointments with Metatron, Herald of the Almighty’

Will today be the 31st? Or is a reset warranted?

Hit send… and put it away.

She had no actual doubt that he would be there ten minutes before the time.

And she did know he’d only been five minutes late. And only to her office: Amurel had blatantly ignored some rule or another and then chewed his ear off with her explanations. He’s even be gracious about it!

He was on his way to the clinic, walking.

Strolling, actually, the rest of the way by foot.

Almost through the door. Because he knew he had time.

He would prefer showing up 15-20 minutes early but then he would have to wait and he does not like sitting in the waiting room with other patients and being... perceived... by Amurel.

Awkwardly waving or "white person smiling" at her when their eyes meet, then checking his watch, hoping she calls him in...

It is not like he is some sort of private patient who is above the others and demands to immediately be seen by the doctor, the moment he arrives.

If it was total strangers, it would be different. It's just awkward to sit there with other angels, because... What if they know who he is? What if they try to talk to him.

No one should talk to other people in a doctor's waiting room unless you came there with them.

So he arrives just in time or a little bit early and they don't make him sit in the waiting room.

That's how this works.

When he comes there for his regularily scheduled appointment, they wave him through.

Because Raphaelle is awaiting him. This is how it works.

So he's not teleporting, just walking by foot, halfway through a bagel. Because he walked past a shop and they had hung out a fresh batch and they smelled really good.

Then his wristband vibrates with a message from Raphael...

He reads the message on the tiny screen.

What? A reset? Why? Is he late? Daylight saving time was recently...

He switches to the watch face. No he's on time.

Just trying to poke him with a stick, huh?

He secures the bagel between his teeth and answers on his phone.

31? ... Funny, that's more than I ever attended originally... I AM on my way, though...

He pushes through the door, swallowing the last bits of the bagel, waving at the female presenting angel manning the reception.

"Hi there Amurel, nice day isn't it, I'll head right in, yes? She already texted me. Can't be late, right?"

An awkward chuckle.

Raphaelle’s phone actually received a message before Metatron arrived.

‘Funny?’ ‘More than he ever attended originally?’ What.

His last appointment was 31 days ago… He’d been late. He’s supposed to be punctual. It… wasn’t that hard to get, was it? What was funny?

The old feeling of long-held irritation resurfaced. Just why was he like that. Just… ugh.

She took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose. If it was anyone else. She’d be perfectly fine with it, might even find explanations. But… nah. Just… nope.

The doorbell was chiming, Amurel greeted the arrival with: “Absolutely fantastic day, indeed! You know the drill, sir, go riiight past the door”

Raphaelle rolled her eyes. Sure. Why not.

And through the door comes a man with bagel crumbs all over him.

She stood up behind her desk and held out her hand, with him she was supposed to check his vitals like that. From what she saw slightly elevated heartbeat, stress levels up, cool skin, but higher temperature. Lets see…

“Aaaand you made it. Without stops or delays,” bagel-breakfasts not withstanding, “… what exactly do you mean with-,“ she glanced at the phone in her other hand “- ‘funny, that’s more than I ever attended originally’?”

Good, good, no stop this time and from a glance, no documents laying around openly visible either...

An internal sigh and he was through the door, save.

Raphaelle, indeed female form this time, offered her hand and he gave her a firm handshake.

He always wondered if the slight tingling meant he could feel that he was being checked... Or if his brain just made him tingle because it assumed he should feel it.

Like stepping on one of those body fat scales. Do you feel the little electricity or do you just think you feel it and therefor you do?

At least she got better at reading people without cheating. He had indeed walked faster here. Apparently he had eaten cheese - his body still didn't quite accept it without a reaction - and it was cold-ish outside. That worked.

Now... thirty... check-ups? The old Raphael?

She stared at him. Then at her phone, scrolling up.

It said '30 days of perfectly punctual...'

Oh dear. Okay. So... in his mind... that meant...

"You... thought... we had... 31 appointments? In total?"

Apparently, they could not have been that bad, then...

"Since... August 2015, every single month... we had... exactly 31 apointments?" She tilted her head. He was not terrible at math. He probably just... didn't think. Yeah. That.... yeah, that sounded like a thing he did. "Well, no matter"

"No need to be sorry. It's in the past. You do mostly attend your appointments now. So... ah... welcome to your 94th. I suppose"

She would not explain what words meant to him now.

"Not all of them punctual, but today... you certainly were"

“… yes. Yes, it’s almost a hundred. I’m… that’s how numbers work, yes!” She rubbed her forehead. It’s… he just didn’t think about it. That’s fair. Right?

She just stared at him when he said it was one time. It… this should come with emotional damages.

“Metatron… you come here at the last minute possible and don’t ever talk to anyone if you can possibly avoid it. You’re avoiding the waiting room. It’s fine, but my receptionists do start to wonder. They are usually well received, doing their job.” If Metatron made them a bad conscience, she can hand it down. Or up, from their perspective.

“Less sunlight means your vitamin A and D levels are down and you are more anxious than usual – which is not great, especially for you. But… is there… any… new contacts? Did you… go new places? Enjoyed – or hated -  any new food?” She wrinkled her nose. “How are you wings?”

Cool, cool, cool cool, so no pat on the head for doing almost a hundred appointments. Okay. Maybe when they actually get there, yes.

Oh she used the name to adress him, that's for attention. Not good probably...

"Well... I mean. Waiting rooms are for waiting..." yes very smart. She will probably comment on that.

"For when someone is early for their appointment I mean, or when their time slot is up, but the previous one is taking longer or the doctor had to shove in an emergency and... Those things don't happen at your clinic. So there is no need to wait and... There's no need to be early for me? I feel like it would be weird to go early to a doctor's appointment because you want to sit in the waiting room with other, possibly sick people? Like going there specifically to meet people? Who does that?! Come on... They have their own problems."

Like who is chatting up people in a doctor's waiting room. Like who would want to be chatted up in a waiting room?!

"... If you want, I guess I could... Flirt a bit with your staff before before the appointment? I don't want them to think I don't like them? " he pictured himself leaning with one elbow on the reception counter, giving Amurel a suave smile and eyebrow wriggle, upon which she put her hand up to cover her wide mouthed laugh like a housewife in a 60s TV show...

This whole scene was very fake, that wasn't going to happen that way ever...

"I do get out in the day a lot though..." defenses went up involuntarily before being accused of working too much and being holed up in the office all d-Oh because of autumn, yes... There's generally less light... But surely that didn't make him more anxious, did it? - he asked like an anxious person.

He was bracing himself for her reaction on his blunder. She did not appreciate it when he made excuses or defended himself... Maybe if he gave her some new info, she would overlook it.

"Well I did go to a very interesting hot dog parlour and actually met an old-" he was a bit surprised over his choice of following word there and hesitated before speaking it out for a little moment.

"-friend there... They over non-pork hot dog variants so that's a great thing for me? And uh..." ah yes the wings.

And that... Was how words worked. Wonderful. They will end up with a whole elementary-course at the end of the day.

A frown started to built between her brows. She looked away. This was... fiiiiine. Surely.

"The world is... full of different people, and some of them take solace in sharing their burdens. We did learn that is very much not your - or any other recurring guests - way of doing thing. I wonder why that is." She hissed out from between her gritted teeth.

But... it really was not his fault and at this very moment she was simply being unfair. Not a good feeling. "I... apologise. It's really not a good idea to engage in this behaviour, if you are not suited for it. But that counts for any kind of behaviour. Please... refrain from flirting with my staff - and therefore, by extension, your staff" And that most likely was the end of that, because he certainly did know more about rules than her.

"Oh. Name is 'Acoste', by any chance? You mentioned them before. They did come by to check if we are 'chill' with a demon around the area before they opened the place. And offered hot dog delivery. I'm still not entirely sure what this was about, but... I am glad for you" That... actually made a positive note. When he was not... in a state of distress.

And then... the wings.

Mh.

"72 is... an excessive number. And I would actually like to know how you keep track of it... and in some cases how you manage to take care of them alone. But... if you say you have it under control... I will have to trust you." While she explained that, Raphael took a bottle of water from the side, opened it in front of her patient, filled a glass... and set it on the other side of the table.

"Now. If I put this in front of you... what does come to your mind?" And they had... basic biology. Also elementary school, she supposed? Humans needed water to live? Was that a thing he also remembered?

Mh. It had been a thoughtless comment. But... she had apologised for it. It... letting it go was the right choice. It's fine. No use in arguing about waiting rooms anyway. It was fine.

Small talk with his own (by extension) subordinates might still be a good idea. He had become more sociable, after all.

"If the patient is accepting of demons or if demon contacts are alright from a... humanitarian standpoint... we certainly can consider it. It's not a long way. Or... if you wholeheartedly embrace this business without any reservations...?" She raised a brow at him. That really would be a bit of a 180 degree turn, if it's the case? Wholeheartedly accepting a demon?

When he started talking about 'association games' with the glass of water it... It really made her wonder if she should just... not try to let him come to conclusions in front of her. Apparently it was bound to disappoint. It... Jeez.

"You... were supposed to remember that you haven't drunken anything since breakfast. And maybe, that you also need hydration for proper wing growth" and possibly *drink* it.

"But... If... we are already have... Something there?" She eyed the water cooker on the 'therapy table', it wouldn't take long, water was still hot. But... "... Do you... Want... Some tea? You know the usual selection" they would just need to relocate over to a more... Tea-party-alike place. Not her desk. No big deal, correct?

"Yes of course. I mean, I haven't eaten there thaaaat often yet. So I can't fully vouch for them. And naturally I can't really give any review of the pork dishes. They did seem up to code and regulations though."

And hygiene is very important when it comes to food. Especially in mix and match ingredient bars.

He wasn't going to tell Raphael that what with the cozy backrooms and hookahs, the ulterior motive of this business model was fairly clear...

That was not however relevant to any food delivery orders the clinic would place with them.

Unless they offered delivery of recreational consumables as well...

Hopefully Ronove would know not to do that with a clinic though?

"Ah, that makes sense... Terrifying how you know the exact time frame but, true, now that you mention it..." alright, that's fair. He was supposed to stay well hydrated and that proved more difficult than expected. Maybe he should set alerts on his phone and carry a water bottle with him at all times.

"Well I... would prefer tea over plain water, if you don't mind." he cocked his head, she seemed reluctant. "We don't have to though, if it's a hassle... Water is fine..." he said, reaching for the glass and beginning to sip.

"That's sensible... Do you have a specific water brand that you put in the waitroom? Regarding the minerals for wings and such?"

"So... you say... demon services for the clinic are to be encouraged and embraced." She was just.. .a little bit surprised, but... then it was perfectly well sanctioned. Good, then? "I'll contact them"

She shook her head and gestured over into the room: "There's the tea-place, Metatron... you just have to walk and sit and I'll follow. You'd have to tell me a little more about your last month, though. Which *is* why you are here. But the water is already a good idea... you DO need to drink more," he still had to make the decision though. If he wanted to cut his visit short, he was entirely entited to it.

Demonservices... It wasn't a black mass, it was hot dog delivery.

"... Well if you call it that, then no... But the business isn't especially demonic? It's a restaurant catering to humans with perfectly normal food, if you can call hot dogs normal... no 'evil additives and satanic ingredients'... It's just run by demons who offer additional complimentary services that could lead to sinning, but the food is perfectly fine... I think... "

Yes, naturally they should not really support demons or anything that lead to sinning... But to be fair... This kind of sloth was bordering on health support, in this stressful day and age.

His voice became a little less sure. "... I mean, I know we are technically on opposite sides, but we do have an armistice... And you offer treatment of demons here so they can offer their services to angels, no? We just have to remind our angels to keep an open mind to the dangers of sinning, that comes with ready delivered meals..." he emptied the glass and very carefully set it down on the desk.

"But that is what free will is about, right? You get the freedom to chose, but also the burden of actually having to think about your choices... No more being physically and mentally unable to sin by default." he shrugged with a helpless smile.

"I have faith in our angels to be able to withstand the allure of Ronove's cooking... So, uh, to answer your question... you can officially use them as a caterer." he bit his lip and furrowed his brow.

"If you want. Hot dogs are still a kind of 'unhealthy' fast food, even if these promote slow leisure."

He put his hands on the armrests and pushed himself up. Right, if she says it's okay. Then they can have tea. It's a good exercise in getting to be more comfortable in the clinic and with Raphael. To open up and be more social.

"Well, I drank it now at least..." getting up and turning towards the tea corner, he made an inviting gesture toward it. Already feeling awkward about it in the very moment. Ladies first was a bit old fashioned and how much would it even apply to a being that changes their gender expression based on the perceived comfort of their current patient?

"- I'd like... Hibiscus then... With a half spoon of honey, if you have." surely warm tea would calm his nerves. It wasn't the clinic. It was just him being a bit flakey today. Cough him on the wrong foot with that message and he had not managed to proberly settle into the appointment yet. It will be fine with some tea.

With a contented sigh, Raphaelle shoved the latest file in the ever growing pile of one-time-visitors. She’ll figure out later how exactly some humans knew she could fix complicated bone fractures… but the answer will likely be ‘you had the vibes‘ anyway, so she was not too concerned.

They got off with a referral to simply check if it healed correctly. And it should. She checked for infections, vital signs, bone density and all other complications that could interfere. The only ‘downside’ might be that this girl was going to overestimate heights-to-safely-jump-from for the rest of her life.

Good work, good mood due to an interesting procedure, and she could prepare for the next appointment.

Oh… riiiight.

The next file… was not in a pile. It was a pile. Most of it marked just pages with a ‘CONFIDENTIAL’-sign, a date, and a redirection to her lovely psychologist colleagues’ notes. There were more pages than last time. So that

Tapping her finger and looking at the flourishing plants… the waiting tea-set… the clean glasses, the neatly filed document… she huffed. There was nothing to prepare. She knew the patient perfectly well and had no need for a refresher.

She pulled out the phone and looked at the old messages… skimming through the ‘friendly reminders’ for the next appointments. Mmmmh.

After one minute of staring, she typed out:

’30 days of only perfectly punctual appointments with Metatron, Herald of the Almighty’

Will today be the 31st? Or is a reset warranted?

Hit send… and put it away.

She had no actual doubt that he would be there ten minutes before the time.

And she did know he’d only been five minutes late. And only to her office: Amurel had blatantly ignored some rule or another and then chewed his ear off with her explanations. He’s even be gracious about it!

He was on his way to the clinic, walking.

Strolling, actually, the rest of the way by foot.

Almost through the door. Because he knew he had time.

He would prefer showing up 15-20 minutes early but then he would have to wait and he does not like sitting in the waiting room with other patients and being... perceived... by Amurel.

Awkwardly waving or "white person smiling" at her when their eyes meet, then checking his watch, hoping she calls him in...

It is not like he is some sort of private patient who is above the others and demands to immediately be seen by the doctor, the moment he arrives.

If it was total strangers, it would be different. It's just awkward to sit there with other angels, because... What if they know who he is? What if they try to talk to him.

No one should talk to other people in a doctor's waiting room unless you came there with them.

So he arrives just in time or a little bit early and they don't make him sit in the waiting room.

That's how this works.

When he comes there for his regularily scheduled appointment, they wave him through.

Because Raphaelle is awaiting him. This is how it works.

So he's not teleporting, just walking by foot, halfway through a bagel. Because he walked past a shop and they had hung out a fresh batch and they smelled really good.

Then his wristband vibrates with a message from Raphael...

He reads the message on the tiny screen.

What? A reset? Why? Is he late? Daylight saving time was recently...

He switches to the watch face. No he's on time.

Just trying to poke him with a stick, huh?

He secures the bagel between his teeth and answers on his phone.

31? ... Funny, that's more than I ever attended originally... I AM on my way, though...

He pushes through the door, swallowing the last bits of the bagel, waving at the female presenting angel manning the reception.

"Hi there Amurel, nice day isn't it, I'll head right in, yes? She already texted me. Can't be late, right?"

An awkward chuckle.

Raphaelle’s phone actually received a message before Metatron arrived.

‘Funny?’ ‘More than he ever attended originally?’ What.

His last appointment was 31 days ago… He’d been late. He’s supposed to be punctual. It… wasn’t that hard to get, was it? What was funny?

The old feeling of long-held irritation resurfaced. Just why was he like that. Just… ugh.

She took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose. If it was anyone else. She’d be perfectly fine with it, might even find explanations. But… nah. Just… nope.

The doorbell was chiming, Amurel greeted the arrival with: “Absolutely fantastic day, indeed! You know the drill, sir, go riiight past the door”

Raphaelle rolled her eyes. Sure. Why not.

And through the door comes a man with bagel crumbs all over him.

She stood up behind her desk and held out her hand, with him she was supposed to check his vitals like that. From what she saw slightly elevated heartbeat, stress levels up, cool skin, but higher temperature. Lets see…

“Aaaand you made it. Without stops or delays,” bagel-breakfasts not withstanding, “… what exactly do you mean with-,“ she glanced at the phone in her other hand “- ‘funny, that’s more than I ever attended originally’?”

Good, good, no stop this time and from a glance, no documents laying around openly visible either...

An internal sigh and he was through the door, save.

Raphaelle, indeed female form this time, offered her hand and he gave her a firm handshake.

He always wondered if the slight tingling meant he could feel that he was being checked... Or if his brain just made him tingle because it assumed he should feel it.

Like stepping on one of those body fat scales. Do you feel the little electricity or do you just think you feel it and therefor you do?

At least she got better at reading people without cheating. He had indeed walked faster here. Apparently he had eaten cheese - his body still didn't quite accept it without a reaction - and it was cold-ish outside. That worked.

Now... thirty... check-ups? The old Raphael?

She stared at him. Then at her phone, scrolling up.

It said '30 days of perfectly punctual...'

Oh dear. Okay. So... in his mind... that meant...

"You... thought... we had... 31 appointments? In total?"

Apparently, they could not have been that bad, then...

"Since... August 2015, every single month... we had... exactly 31 apointments?" She tilted her head. He was not terrible at math. He probably just... didn't think. Yeah. That.... yeah, that sounded like a thing he did. "Well, no matter"

"No need to be sorry. It's in the past. You do mostly attend your appointments now. So... ah... welcome to your 94th. I suppose"

She would not explain what words meant to him now.

"Not all of them punctual, but today... you certainly were"

“… yes. Yes, it’s almost a hundred. I’m… that’s how numbers work, yes!” She rubbed her forehead. It’s… he just didn’t think about it. That’s fair. Right?

She just stared at him when he said it was one time. It… this should come with emotional damages.

“Metatron… you come here at the last minute possible and don’t ever talk to anyone if you can possibly avoid it. You’re avoiding the waiting room. It’s fine, but my receptionists do start to wonder. They are usually well received, doing their job.” If Metatron made them a bad conscience, she can hand it down. Or up, from their perspective.

“Less sunlight means your vitamin A and D levels are down and you are more anxious than usual – which is not great, especially for you. But… is there… any… new contacts? Did you… go new places? Enjoyed – or hated -  any new food?” She wrinkled her nose. “How are you wings?”

Cool, cool, cool cool, so no pat on the head for doing almost a hundred appointments. Okay. Maybe when they actually get there, yes.

Oh she used the name to adress him, that's for attention. Not good probably...

"Well... I mean. Waiting rooms are for waiting..." yes very smart. She will probably comment on that.

"For when someone is early for their appointment I mean, or when their time slot is up, but the previous one is taking longer or the doctor had to shove in an emergency and... Those things don't happen at your clinic. So there is no need to wait and... There's no need to be early for me? I feel like it would be weird to go early to a doctor's appointment because you want to sit in the waiting room with other, possibly sick people? Like going there specifically to meet people? Who does that?! Come on... They have their own problems."

Like who is chatting up people in a doctor's waiting room. Like who would want to be chatted up in a waiting room?!

"... If you want, I guess I could... Flirt a bit with your staff before before the appointment? I don't want them to think I don't like them? " he pictured himself leaning with one elbow on the reception counter, giving Amurel a suave smile and eyebrow wriggle, upon which she put her hand up to cover her wide mouthed laugh like a housewife in a 60s TV show...

This whole scene was very fake, that wasn't going to happen that way ever...

"I do get out in the day a lot though..." defenses went up involuntarily before being accused of working too much and being holed up in the office all d-Oh because of autumn, yes... There's generally less light... But surely that didn't make him more anxious, did it? - he asked like an anxious person.

He was bracing himself for her reaction on his blunder. She did not appreciate it when he made excuses or defended himself... Maybe if he gave her some new info, she would overlook it.

"Well I did go to a very interesting hot dog parlour and actually met an old-" he was a bit surprised over his choice of following word there and hesitated before speaking it out for a little moment.

"-friend there... They over non-pork hot dog variants so that's a great thing for me? And uh..." ah yes the wings.

And that... Was how words worked. Wonderful. They will end up with a whole elementary-course at the end of the day.

A frown started to built between her brows. She looked away. This was... fiiiiine. Surely.

"The world is... full of different people, and some of them take solace in sharing their burdens. We did learn that is very much not your - or any other recurring guests - way of doing thing. I wonder why that is." She hissed out from between her gritted teeth.

But... it really was not his fault and at this very moment she was simply being unfair. Not a good feeling. "I... apologise. It's really not a good idea to engage in this behaviour, if you are not suited for it. But that counts for any kind of behaviour. Please... refrain from flirting with my staff - and therefore, by extension, your staff" And that most likely was the end of that, because he certainly did know more about rules than her.

"Oh. Name is 'Acoste', by any chance? You mentioned them before. They did come by to check if we are 'chill' with a demon around the area before they opened the place. And offered hot dog delivery. I'm still not entirely sure what this was about, but... I am glad for you" That... actually made a positive note. When he was not... in a state of distress.

And then... the wings.

Mh.

"72 is... an excessive number. And I would actually like to know how you keep track of it... and in some cases how you manage to take care of them alone. But... if you say you have it under control... I will have to trust you." While she explained that, Raphael took a bottle of water from the side, opened it in front of her patient, filled a glass... and set it on the other side of the table.

"Now. If I put this in front of you... what does come to your mind?" And they had... basic biology. Also elementary school, she supposed? Humans needed water to live? Was that a thing he also remembered?

Mh. It had been a thoughtless comment. But... she had apologised for it. It... letting it go was the right choice. It's fine. No use in arguing about waiting rooms anyway. It was fine.

Small talk with his own (by extension) subordinates might still be a good idea. He had become more sociable, after all.

"If the patient is accepting of demons or if demon contacts are alright from a... humanitarian standpoint... we certainly can consider it. It's not a long way. Or... if you wholeheartedly embrace this business without any reservations...?" She raised a brow at him. That really would be a bit of a 180 degree turn, if it's the case? Wholeheartedly accepting a demon?

When he started talking about 'association games' with the glass of water it... It really made her wonder if she should just... not try to let him come to conclusions in front of her. Apparently it was bound to disappoint. It... Jeez.

"You... were supposed to remember that you haven't drunken anything since breakfast. And maybe, that you also need hydration for proper wing growth" and possibly *drink* it.

"But... If... we are already have... Something there?" She eyed the water cooker on the 'therapy table', it wouldn't take long, water was still hot. But... "... Do you... Want... Some tea? You know the usual selection" they would just need to relocate over to a more... Tea-party-alike place. Not her desk. No big deal, correct?

"Yes of course. I mean, I haven't eaten there thaaaat often yet. So I can't fully vouch for them. And naturally I can't really give any review of the pork dishes. They did seem up to code and regulations though."

And hygiene is very important when it comes to food. Especially in mix and match ingredient bars.

He wasn't going to tell Raphael that what with the cozy backrooms and hookahs, the ulterior motive of this business model was fairly clear...

That was not however relevant to any food delivery orders the clinic would place with them.

Unless they offered delivery of recreational consumables as well...

Hopefully Ronove would know not to do that with a clinic though?

"Ah, that makes sense... Terrifying how you know the exact time frame but, true, now that you mention it..." alright, that's fair. He was supposed to stay well hydrated and that proved more difficult than expected. Maybe he should set alerts on his phone and carry a water bottle with him at all times.

"Well I... would prefer tea over plain water, if you don't mind." he cocked his head, she seemed reluctant. "We don't have to though, if it's a hassle... Water is fine..." he said, reaching for the glass and beginning to sip.

"That's sensible... Do you have a specific water brand that you put in the waitroom? Regarding the minerals for wings and such?"

With a contented sigh, Raphaelle shoved the latest file in the ever growing pile of one-time-visitors. She’ll figure out later how exactly some humans knew she could fix complicated bone fractures… but the answer will likely be ‘you had the vibes‘ anyway, so she was not too concerned.

They got off with a referral to simply check if it healed correctly. And it should. She checked for infections, vital signs, bone density and all other complications that could interfere. The only ‘downside’ might be that this girl was going to overestimate heights-to-safely-jump-from for the rest of her life.

Good work, good mood due to an interesting procedure, and she could prepare for the next appointment.

Oh… riiiight.

The next file… was not in a pile. It was a pile. Most of it marked just pages with a ‘CONFIDENTIAL’-sign, a date, and a redirection to her lovely psychologist colleagues’ notes. There were more pages than last time. So that

Tapping her finger and looking at the flourishing plants… the waiting tea-set… the clean glasses, the neatly filed document… she huffed. There was nothing to prepare. She knew the patient perfectly well and had no need for a refresher.

She pulled out the phone and looked at the old messages… skimming through the ‘friendly reminders’ for the next appointments. Mmmmh.

After one minute of staring, she typed out:

’30 days of only perfectly punctual appointments with Metatron, Herald of the Almighty’

Will today be the 31st? Or is a reset warranted?

Hit send… and put it away.

She had no actual doubt that he would be there ten minutes before the time.

And she did know he’d only been five minutes late. And only to her office: Amurel had blatantly ignored some rule or another and then chewed his ear off with her explanations. He’s even be gracious about it!

He was on his way to the clinic, walking.

Strolling, actually, the rest of the way by foot.

Almost through the door. Because he knew he had time.

He would prefer showing up 15-20 minutes early but then he would have to wait and he does not like sitting in the waiting room with other patients and being... perceived... by Amurel.

Awkwardly waving or "white person smiling" at her when their eyes meet, then checking his watch, hoping she calls him in...

It is not like he is some sort of private patient who is above the others and demands to immediately be seen by the doctor, the moment he arrives.

If it was total strangers, it would be different. It's just awkward to sit there with other angels, because... What if they know who he is? What if they try to talk to him.

No one should talk to other people in a doctor's waiting room unless you came there with them.

So he arrives just in time or a little bit early and they don't make him sit in the waiting room.

That's how this works.

When he comes there for his regularily scheduled appointment, they wave him through.

Because Raphaelle is awaiting him. This is how it works.

So he's not teleporting, just walking by foot, halfway through a bagel. Because he walked past a shop and they had hung out a fresh batch and they smelled really good.

Then his wristband vibrates with a message from Raphael...

He reads the message on the tiny screen.

What? A reset? Why? Is he late? Daylight saving time was recently...

He switches to the watch face. No he's on time.

Just trying to poke him with a stick, huh?

He secures the bagel between his teeth and answers on his phone.

31? ... Funny, that's more than I ever attended originally... I AM on my way, though...

He pushes through the door, swallowing the last bits of the bagel, waving at the female presenting angel manning the reception.

"Hi there Amurel, nice day isn't it, I'll head right in, yes? She already texted me. Can't be late, right?"

An awkward chuckle.

Raphaelle’s phone actually received a message before Metatron arrived.

‘Funny?’ ‘More than he ever attended originally?’ What.

His last appointment was 31 days ago… He’d been late. He’s supposed to be punctual. It… wasn’t that hard to get, was it? What was funny?

The old feeling of long-held irritation resurfaced. Just why was he like that. Just… ugh.

She took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose. If it was anyone else. She’d be perfectly fine with it, might even find explanations. But… nah. Just… nope.

The doorbell was chiming, Amurel greeted the arrival with: “Absolutely fantastic day, indeed! You know the drill, sir, go riiight past the door”

Raphaelle rolled her eyes. Sure. Why not.

And through the door comes a man with bagel crumbs all over him.

She stood up behind her desk and held out her hand, with him she was supposed to check his vitals like that. From what she saw slightly elevated heartbeat, stress levels up, cool skin, but higher temperature. Lets see…

“Aaaand you made it. Without stops or delays,” bagel-breakfasts not withstanding, “… what exactly do you mean with-,“ she glanced at the phone in her other hand “- ‘funny, that’s more than I ever attended originally’?”

Good, good, no stop this time and from a glance, no documents laying around openly visible either...

An internal sigh and he was through the door, save.

Raphaelle, indeed female form this time, offered her hand and he gave her a firm handshake.

He always wondered if the slight tingling meant he could feel that he was being checked... Or if his brain just made him tingle because it assumed he should feel it.

Like stepping on one of those body fat scales. Do you feel the little electricity or do you just think you feel it and therefor you do?

At least she got better at reading people without cheating. He had indeed walked faster here. Apparently he had eaten cheese - his body still didn't quite accept it without a reaction - and it was cold-ish outside. That worked.

Now... thirty... check-ups? The old Raphael?

She stared at him. Then at her phone, scrolling up.

It said '30 days of perfectly punctual...'

Oh dear. Okay. So... in his mind... that meant...

"You... thought... we had... 31 appointments? In total?"

Apparently, they could not have been that bad, then...

"Since... August 2015, every single month... we had... exactly 31 apointments?" She tilted her head. He was not terrible at math. He probably just... didn't think. Yeah. That.... yeah, that sounded like a thing he did. "Well, no matter"

"No need to be sorry. It's in the past. You do mostly attend your appointments now. So... ah... welcome to your 94th. I suppose"

She would not explain what words meant to him now.

"Not all of them punctual, but today... you certainly were"

“… yes. Yes, it’s almost a hundred. I’m… that’s how numbers work, yes!” She rubbed her forehead. It’s… he just didn’t think about it. That’s fair. Right?

She just stared at him when he said it was one time. It… this should come with emotional damages.

“Metatron… you come here at the last minute possible and don’t ever talk to anyone if you can possibly avoid it. You’re avoiding the waiting room. It’s fine, but my receptionists do start to wonder. They are usually well received, doing their job.” If Metatron made them a bad conscience, she can hand it down. Or up, from their perspective.

“Less sunlight means your vitamin A and D levels are down and you are more anxious than usual – which is not great, especially for you. But… is there… any… new contacts? Did you… go new places? Enjoyed – or hated -  any new food?” She wrinkled her nose. “How are you wings?”

Cool, cool, cool cool, so no pat on the head for doing almost a hundred appointments. Okay. Maybe when they actually get there, yes.

Oh she used the name to adress him, that's for attention. Not good probably...

"Well... I mean. Waiting rooms are for waiting..." yes very smart. She will probably comment on that.

"For when someone is early for their appointment I mean, or when their time slot is up, but the previous one is taking longer or the doctor had to shove in an emergency and... Those things don't happen at your clinic. So there is no need to wait and... There's no need to be early for me? I feel like it would be weird to go early to a doctor's appointment because you want to sit in the waiting room with other, possibly sick people? Like going there specifically to meet people? Who does that?! Come on... They have their own problems."

Like who is chatting up people in a doctor's waiting room. Like who would want to be chatted up in a waiting room?!

"... If you want, I guess I could... Flirt a bit with your staff before before the appointment? I don't want them to think I don't like them? " he pictured himself leaning with one elbow on the reception counter, giving Amurel a suave smile and eyebrow wriggle, upon which she put her hand up to cover her wide mouthed laugh like a housewife in a 60s TV show...

This whole scene was very fake, that wasn't going to happen that way ever...

"I do get out in the day a lot though..." defenses went up involuntarily before being accused of working too much and being holed up in the office all d-Oh because of autumn, yes... There's generally less light... But surely that didn't make him more anxious, did it? - he asked like an anxious person.

He was bracing himself for her reaction on his blunder. She did not appreciate it when he made excuses or defended himself... Maybe if he gave her some new info, she would overlook it.

"Well I did go to a very interesting hot dog parlour and actually met an old-" he was a bit surprised over his choice of following word there and hesitated before speaking it out for a little moment.

"-friend there... They over non-pork hot dog variants so that's a great thing for me? And uh..." ah yes the wings.

And that... Was how words worked. Wonderful. They will end up with a whole elementary-course at the end of the day.

A frown started to built between her brows. She looked away. This was... fiiiiine. Surely.

"The world is... full of different people, and some of them take solace in sharing their burdens. We did learn that is very much not your - or any other recurring guests - way of doing thing. I wonder why that is." She hissed out from between her gritted teeth.

But... it really was not his fault and at this very moment she was simply being unfair. Not a good feeling. "I... apologise. It's really not a good idea to engage in this behaviour, if you are not suited for it. But that counts for any kind of behaviour. Please... refrain from flirting with my staff - and therefore, by extension, your staff" And that most likely was the end of that, because he certainly did know more about rules than her.

"Oh. Name is 'Acoste', by any chance? You mentioned them before. They did come by to check if we are 'chill' with a demon around the area before they opened the place. And offered hot dog delivery. I'm still not entirely sure what this was about, but... I am glad for you" That... actually made a positive note. When he was not... in a state of distress.

And then... the wings.

Mh.

"72 is... an excessive number. And I would actually like to know how you keep track of it... and in some cases how you manage to take care of them alone. But... if you say you have it under control... I will have to trust you." While she explained that, Raphael took a bottle of water from the side, opened it in front of her patient, filled a glass... and set it on the other side of the table.

"Now. If I put this in front of you... what does come to your mind?" And they had... basic biology. Also elementary school, she supposed? Humans needed water to live? Was that a thing he also remembered?

@scribe-proxy-and-deadpan-snarker

I mean, not your defining moments, but things not everyone would know. And nothing from your past, that anyone from a different universe could hold against you...

In that case, uh... yes, it is me as well...

It has been... Some time...

Ahem... Uh... Raphael... I don't think there are any hard feelings and he will probably be delighted to hear from you. He is doing well. We're not butting heads anymore. And he set up his clinic on earth as a permanent base. Helping with the influx and exodus of people... From and to other universes... Taking care of new arrivals... And uhm...

*choking a little*

I can't believe I stumbled upon you, after all these years... And in that universe of all things...

Ah, Raphael. I’m not entirely sure he’d be capable of holding a grudge, should he even want to. Which he wouldn’t. I’m glad he’s been keeping well. Make sure it stays that way, will you? I get the feeling he’d work his fingers to the bone if you’d let him.

It’s an odd little place, isn’t it? Feels like something of a storm’s brewing out there. Curiosity and the cat, you know; I just had to come take a peek, see what the locals are up to... Though after well and truly buggering a few of the other dimensions I’ve visited all to fuck, I’m trying this new approach called “minding my own business.” It doesn’t come naturally, definitely room for improvement, you know how much I enjoy sticking my fingers where they don’t belong. I’ve made a nice little home for myself in the universe back a bit and to the east of here. I think I found what I left to look for, in a way. Not entirely, perhaps, but enough, and I’m so very tired of the endless, restless wandering through space and time like an incredibly handsome and well dressed specter. Thought it was time for a break.

I mean... Unless you are implying you mastered plane walking and can move freely between places...?

That would positively exhilarate Raphael. He was visually vibrating on a high frequency when I informed him of me being in contact with you.

And believe me, he can hold a grudge, you gave him no reason though.

...

Just takes a little bit of practice is all, I know it looks like complete and total molecular obliteration at first but it’s really not so bad once you get in past your knees.

If you don't know how to put it into words... I'll be happy to probe your mind (with safe search on)

You know Raphael and I did not start out on the best footing because I was over protective and overly strict and you treating him with more liberty and as a sort of equal... Caused some heated arguments regarding how heaven did things back then. So nothing personal really. No escapades that would amuse you.

Please do, I won't let him know, so you can surprise him or her, depending what they are doing at the time. Looking forward to hearing how it went afterwards.

Ah, but I’m proud of you for listening. There was a time when Heaven as a whole would have no arguments, just the punishment. You progress, Enoch! You always do, and that I find plenty amusing.

If you think I couldn't afford you, I'll just cook for you myself... I mean... Don't use that name in public please...

And knowing you, it's going to be quite the vintage. Alright.

Other than that, just bring yourself, an appetite and a bit of time.

The dish doesn't take that long so I'll make it fresh when you're here... Just some general chopping in advance.

With a contented sigh, Raphaelle shoved the latest file in the ever growing pile of one-time-visitors. She’ll figure out later how exactly some humans knew she could fix complicated bone fractures… but the answer will likely be ‘you had the vibes‘ anyway, so she was not too concerned.

They got off with a referral to simply check if it healed correctly. And it should. She checked for infections, vital signs, bone density and all other complications that could interfere. The only ‘downside’ might be that this girl was going to overestimate heights-to-safely-jump-from for the rest of her life.

Good work, good mood due to an interesting procedure, and she could prepare for the next appointment.

Oh… riiiight.

The next file… was not in a pile. It was a pile. Most of it marked just pages with a ‘CONFIDENTIAL’-sign, a date, and a redirection to her lovely psychologist colleagues’ notes. There were more pages than last time. So that

Tapping her finger and looking at the flourishing plants… the waiting tea-set… the clean glasses, the neatly filed document… she huffed. There was nothing to prepare. She knew the patient perfectly well and had no need for a refresher.

She pulled out the phone and looked at the old messages… skimming through the ‘friendly reminders’ for the next appointments. Mmmmh.

After one minute of staring, she typed out:

’30 days of only perfectly punctual appointments with Metatron, Herald of the Almighty’

Will today be the 31st? Or is a reset warranted?

Hit send… and put it away.

She had no actual doubt that he would be there ten minutes before the time.

And she did know he’d only been five minutes late. And only to her office: Amurel had blatantly ignored some rule or another and then chewed his ear off with her explanations. He’s even be gracious about it!

He was on his way to the clinic, walking.

Strolling, actually, the rest of the way by foot.

Almost through the door. Because he knew he had time.

He would prefer showing up 15-20 minutes early but then he would have to wait and he does not like sitting in the waiting room with other patients and being... perceived... by Amurel.

Awkwardly waving or "white person smiling" at her when their eyes meet, then checking his watch, hoping she calls him in...

It is not like he is some sort of private patient who is above the others and demands to immediately be seen by the doctor, the moment he arrives.

If it was total strangers, it would be different. It's just awkward to sit there with other angels, because... What if they know who he is? What if they try to talk to him.

No one should talk to other people in a doctor's waiting room unless you came there with them.

So he arrives just in time or a little bit early and they don't make him sit in the waiting room.

That's how this works.

When he comes there for his regularily scheduled appointment, they wave him through.

Because Raphaelle is awaiting him. This is how it works.

So he's not teleporting, just walking by foot, halfway through a bagel. Because he walked past a shop and they had hung out a fresh batch and they smelled really good.

Then his wristband vibrates with a message from Raphael...

He reads the message on the tiny screen.

What? A reset? Why? Is he late? Daylight saving time was recently...

He switches to the watch face. No he's on time.

Just trying to poke him with a stick, huh?

He secures the bagel between his teeth and answers on his phone.

31? ... Funny, that's more than I ever attended originally... I AM on my way, though...

He pushes through the door, swallowing the last bits of the bagel, waving at the female presenting angel manning the reception.

"Hi there Amurel, nice day isn't it, I'll head right in, yes? She already texted me. Can't be late, right?"

An awkward chuckle.

Raphaelle’s phone actually received a message before Metatron arrived.

‘Funny?’ ‘More than he ever attended originally?’ What.

His last appointment was 31 days ago… He’d been late. He’s supposed to be punctual. It… wasn’t that hard to get, was it? What was funny?

The old feeling of long-held irritation resurfaced. Just why was he like that. Just… ugh.

She took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose. If it was anyone else. She’d be perfectly fine with it, might even find explanations. But… nah. Just… nope.

The doorbell was chiming, Amurel greeted the arrival with: “Absolutely fantastic day, indeed! You know the drill, sir, go riiight past the door”

Raphaelle rolled her eyes. Sure. Why not.

And through the door comes a man with bagel crumbs all over him.

She stood up behind her desk and held out her hand, with him she was supposed to check his vitals like that. From what she saw slightly elevated heartbeat, stress levels up, cool skin, but higher temperature. Lets see…

“Aaaand you made it. Without stops or delays,” bagel-breakfasts not withstanding, “… what exactly do you mean with-,“ she glanced at the phone in her other hand “- ‘funny, that’s more than I ever attended originally’?”

Good, good, no stop this time and from a glance, no documents laying around openly visible either...

An internal sigh and he was through the door, save.

Raphaelle, indeed female form this time, offered her hand and he gave her a firm handshake.

He always wondered if the slight tingling meant he could feel that he was being checked... Or if his brain just made him tingle because it assumed he should feel it.

Like stepping on one of those body fat scales. Do you feel the little electricity or do you just think you feel it and therefor you do?

At least she got better at reading people without cheating. He had indeed walked faster here. Apparently he had eaten cheese - his body still didn't quite accept it without a reaction - and it was cold-ish outside. That worked.

Now... thirty... check-ups? The old Raphael?

She stared at him. Then at her phone, scrolling up.

It said '30 days of perfectly punctual...'

Oh dear. Okay. So... in his mind... that meant...

"You... thought... we had... 31 appointments? In total?"

Apparently, they could not have been that bad, then...

"Since... August 2015, every single month... we had... exactly 31 apointments?" She tilted her head. He was not terrible at math. He probably just... didn't think. Yeah. That.... yeah, that sounded like a thing he did. "Well, no matter"

"No need to be sorry. It's in the past. You do mostly attend your appointments now. So... ah... welcome to your 94th. I suppose"

She would not explain what words meant to him now.

"Not all of them punctual, but today... you certainly were"

“… yes. Yes, it’s almost a hundred. I’m… that’s how numbers work, yes!” She rubbed her forehead. It’s… he just didn’t think about it. That’s fair. Right?

She just stared at him when he said it was one time. It… this should come with emotional damages.

“Metatron… you come here at the last minute possible and don’t ever talk to anyone if you can possibly avoid it. You’re avoiding the waiting room. It’s fine, but my receptionists do start to wonder. They are usually well received, doing their job.” If Metatron made them a bad conscience, she can hand it down. Or up, from their perspective.

“Less sunlight means your vitamin A and D levels are down and you are more anxious than usual – which is not great, especially for you. But… is there… any… new contacts? Did you… go new places? Enjoyed – or hated -  any new food?” She wrinkled her nose. “How are you wings?”

Cool, cool, cool cool, so no pat on the head for doing almost a hundred appointments. Okay. Maybe when they actually get there, yes.

Oh she used the name to adress him, that's for attention. Not good probably...

"Well... I mean. Waiting rooms are for waiting..." yes very smart. She will probably comment on that.

"For when someone is early for their appointment I mean, or when their time slot is up, but the previous one is taking longer or the doctor had to shove in an emergency and... Those things don't happen at your clinic. So there is no need to wait and... There's no need to be early for me? I feel like it would be weird to go early to a doctor's appointment because you want to sit in the waiting room with other, possibly sick people? Like going there specifically to meet people? Who does that?! Come on... They have their own problems."

Like who is chatting up people in a doctor's waiting room. Like who would want to be chatted up in a waiting room?!

"... If you want, I guess I could... Flirt a bit with your staff before before the appointment? I don't want them to think I don't like them? " he pictured himself leaning with one elbow on the reception counter, giving Amurel a suave smile and eyebrow wriggle, upon which she put her hand up to cover her wide mouthed laugh like a housewife in a 60s TV show...

This whole scene was very fake, that wasn't going to happen that way ever...

"I do get out in the day a lot though..." defenses went up involuntarily before being accused of working too much and being holed up in the office all d-Oh because of autumn, yes... There's generally less light... But surely that didn't make him more anxious, did it? - he asked like an anxious person.

He was bracing himself for her reaction on his blunder. She did not appreciate it when he made excuses or defended himself... Maybe if he gave her some new info, she would overlook it.

"Well I did go to a very interesting hot dog parlour and actually met an old-" he was a bit surprised over his choice of following word there and hesitated before speaking it out for a little moment.

"-friend there... They over non-pork hot dog variants so that's a great thing for me? And uh..." ah yes the wings.

What the fuck did you just call me?

The are very repetetive in their answers, I heard, not as flowery of a prose as you or I would use... Not that I would write... Written things... Of that nature... Just our vocabulary and knowledge of synonyms is better... You know.

@scribe-proxy-and-deadpan-snarker

I mean, not your defining moments, but things not everyone would know. And nothing from your past, that anyone from a different universe could hold against you...

In that case, uh... yes, it is me as well...

It has been... Some time...

Ahem... Uh... Raphael... I don't think there are any hard feelings and he will probably be delighted to hear from you. He is doing well. We're not butting heads anymore. And he set up his clinic on earth as a permanent base. Helping with the influx and exodus of people... From and to other universes... Taking care of new arrivals... And uhm...

*choking a little*

I can't believe I stumbled upon you, after all these years... And in that universe of all things...

Ah, Raphael. I’m not entirely sure he’d be capable of holding a grudge, should he even want to. Which he wouldn’t. I’m glad he’s been keeping well. Make sure it stays that way, will you? I get the feeling he’d work his fingers to the bone if you’d let him.

It’s an odd little place, isn’t it? Feels like something of a storm’s brewing out there. Curiosity and the cat, you know; I just had to come take a peek, see what the locals are up to... Though after well and truly buggering a few of the other dimensions I’ve visited all to fuck, I’m trying this new approach called “minding my own business.” It doesn’t come naturally, definitely room for improvement, you know how much I enjoy sticking my fingers where they don’t belong. I’ve made a nice little home for myself in the universe back a bit and to the east of here. I think I found what I left to look for, in a way. Not entirely, perhaps, but enough, and I’m so very tired of the endless, restless wandering through space and time like an incredibly handsome and well dressed specter. Thought it was time for a break.

I mean... Unless you are implying you mastered plane walking and can move freely between places...?

That would positively exhilarate Raphael. He was visually vibrating on a high frequency when I informed him of me being in contact with you.

And believe me, he can hold a grudge, you gave him no reason though.

...

Just takes a little bit of practice is all, I know it looks like complete and total molecular obliteration at first but it’s really not so bad once you get in past your knees.

If you don't know how to put it into words... I'll be happy to probe your mind (with safe search on)

You know Raphael and I did not start out on the best footing because I was over protective and overly strict and you treating him with more liberty and as a sort of equal... Caused some heated arguments regarding how heaven did things back then. So nothing personal really. No escapades that would amuse you.

Please do, I won't let him know, so you can surprise him or her, depending what they are doing at the time. Looking forward to hearing how it went afterwards.

Ah, but I’m proud of you for listening. There was a time when Heaven as a whole would have no arguments, just the punishment. You progress, Enoch! You always do, and that I find plenty amusing.

If you think I couldn't afford you, I'll just cook for you myself... I mean... Don't use that name in public please...

And knowing you, it's going to be quite the vintage. Alright.

Other than that, just bring yourself, an appetite and a bit of time.

The dish doesn't take that long so I'll make it fresh when you're here... Just some general chopping in advance.

With a contented sigh, Raphaelle shoved the latest file in the ever growing pile of one-time-visitors. She’ll figure out later how exactly some humans knew she could fix complicated bone fractures… but the answer will likely be ‘you had the vibes‘ anyway, so she was not too concerned.

They got off with a referral to simply check if it healed correctly. And it should. She checked for infections, vital signs, bone density and all other complications that could interfere. The only ‘downside’ might be that this girl was going to overestimate heights-to-safely-jump-from for the rest of her life.

Good work, good mood due to an interesting procedure, and she could prepare for the next appointment.

Oh… riiiight.

The next file… was not in a pile. It was a pile. Most of it marked just pages with a ‘CONFIDENTIAL’-sign, a date, and a redirection to her lovely psychologist colleagues’ notes. There were more pages than last time. So that

Tapping her finger and looking at the flourishing plants… the waiting tea-set… the clean glasses, the neatly filed document… she huffed. There was nothing to prepare. She knew the patient perfectly well and had no need for a refresher.

She pulled out the phone and looked at the old messages… skimming through the ‘friendly reminders’ for the next appointments. Mmmmh.

After one minute of staring, she typed out:

’30 days of only perfectly punctual appointments with Metatron, Herald of the Almighty’

Will today be the 31st? Or is a reset warranted?

Hit send… and put it away.

She had no actual doubt that he would be there ten minutes before the time.

And she did know he’d only been five minutes late. And only to her office: Amurel had blatantly ignored some rule or another and then chewed his ear off with her explanations. He’s even be gracious about it!

He was on his way to the clinic, walking.

Strolling, actually, the rest of the way by foot.

Almost through the door. Because he knew he had time.

He would prefer showing up 15-20 minutes early but then he would have to wait and he does not like sitting in the waiting room with other patients and being... perceived... by Amurel.

Awkwardly waving or "white person smiling" at her when their eyes meet, then checking his watch, hoping she calls him in...

It is not like he is some sort of private patient who is above the others and demands to immediately be seen by the doctor, the moment he arrives.

If it was total strangers, it would be different. It's just awkward to sit there with other angels, because... What if they know who he is? What if they try to talk to him.

No one should talk to other people in a doctor's waiting room unless you came there with them.

So he arrives just in time or a little bit early and they don't make him sit in the waiting room.

That's how this works.

When he comes there for his regularily scheduled appointment, they wave him through.

Because Raphaelle is awaiting him. This is how it works.

So he's not teleporting, just walking by foot, halfway through a bagel. Because he walked past a shop and they had hung out a fresh batch and they smelled really good.

Then his wristband vibrates with a message from Raphael...

He reads the message on the tiny screen.

What? A reset? Why? Is he late? Daylight saving time was recently...

He switches to the watch face. No he's on time.

Just trying to poke him with a stick, huh?

He secures the bagel between his teeth and answers on his phone.

31? ... Funny, that's more than I ever attended originally... I AM on my way, though...

He pushes through the door, swallowing the last bits of the bagel, waving at the female presenting angel manning the reception.

"Hi there Amurel, nice day isn't it, I'll head right in, yes? She already texted me. Can't be late, right?"

An awkward chuckle.

Raphaelle’s phone actually received a message before Metatron arrived.

‘Funny?’ ‘More than he ever attended originally?’ What.

His last appointment was 31 days ago… He’d been late. He’s supposed to be punctual. It… wasn’t that hard to get, was it? What was funny?

The old feeling of long-held irritation resurfaced. Just why was he like that. Just… ugh.

She took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose. If it was anyone else. She’d be perfectly fine with it, might even find explanations. But… nah. Just… nope.

The doorbell was chiming, Amurel greeted the arrival with: “Absolutely fantastic day, indeed! You know the drill, sir, go riiight past the door”

Raphaelle rolled her eyes. Sure. Why not.

And through the door comes a man with bagel crumbs all over him.

She stood up behind her desk and held out her hand, with him she was supposed to check his vitals like that. From what she saw slightly elevated heartbeat, stress levels up, cool skin, but higher temperature. Lets see…

“Aaaand you made it. Without stops or delays,” bagel-breakfasts not withstanding, “… what exactly do you mean with-,“ she glanced at the phone in her other hand “- ‘funny, that’s more than I ever attended originally’?”

Good, good, no stop this time and from a glance, no documents laying around openly visible either...

An internal sigh and he was through the door, save.

Raphaelle, indeed female form this time, offered her hand and he gave her a firm handshake.

He always wondered if the slight tingling meant he could feel that he was being checked... Or if his brain just made him tingle because it assumed he should feel it.

Like stepping on one of those body fat scales. Do you feel the little electricity or do you just think you feel it and therefor you do?

At least she got better at reading people without cheating. He had indeed walked faster here. Apparently he had eaten cheese - his body still didn't quite accept it without a reaction - and it was cold-ish outside. That worked.

Now... thirty... check-ups? The old Raphael?

She stared at him. Then at her phone, scrolling up.

It said '30 days of perfectly punctual...'

Oh dear. Okay. So... in his mind... that meant...

"You... thought... we had... 31 appointments? In total?"

Apparently, they could not have been that bad, then...

"Since... August 2015, every single month... we had... exactly 31 apointments?" She tilted her head. He was not terrible at math. He probably just... didn't think. Yeah. That.... yeah, that sounded like a thing he did. "Well, no matter"

"No need to be sorry. It's in the past. You do mostly attend your appointments now. So... ah... welcome to your 94th. I suppose"

She would not explain what words meant to him now.

"Not all of them punctual, but today... you certainly were"

With a contented sigh, Raphaelle shoved the latest file in the ever growing pile of one-time-visitors. She’ll figure out later how exactly some humans knew she could fix complicated bone fractures… but the answer will likely be ‘you had the vibes‘ anyway, so she was not too concerned.

They got off with a referral to simply check if it healed correctly. And it should. She checked for infections, vital signs, bone density and all other complications that could interfere. The only ‘downside’ might be that this girl was going to overestimate heights-to-safely-jump-from for the rest of her life.

Good work, good mood due to an interesting procedure, and she could prepare for the next appointment.

Oh… riiiight.

The next file… was not in a pile. It was a pile. Most of it marked just pages with a ‘CONFIDENTIAL’-sign, a date, and a redirection to her lovely psychologist colleagues’ notes. There were more pages than last time. So that

Tapping her finger and looking at the flourishing plants… the waiting tea-set… the clean glasses, the neatly filed document… she huffed. There was nothing to prepare. She knew the patient perfectly well and had no need for a refresher.

She pulled out the phone and looked at the old messages… skimming through the ‘friendly reminders’ for the next appointments. Mmmmh.

After one minute of staring, she typed out:

’30 days of only perfectly punctual appointments with Metatron, Herald of the Almighty’

Will today be the 31st? Or is a reset warranted?

Hit send… and put it away.

She had no actual doubt that he would be there ten minutes before the time.

And she did know he’d only been five minutes late. And only to her office: Amurel had blatantly ignored some rule or another and then chewed his ear off with her explanations. He’s even be gracious about it!

He was on his way to the clinic, walking.

Strolling, actually, the rest of the way by foot.

Almost through the door. Because he knew he had time.

He would prefer showing up 15-20 minutes early but then he would have to wait and he does not like sitting in the waiting room with other patients and being... perceived... by Amurel.

Awkwardly waving or "white person smiling" at her when their eyes meet, then checking his watch, hoping she calls him in...

It is not like he is some sort of private patient who is above the others and demands to immediately be seen by the doctor, the moment he arrives.

If it was total strangers, it would be different. It's just awkward to sit there with other angels, because... What if they know who he is? What if they try to talk to him.

No one should talk to other people in a doctor's waiting room unless you came there with them.

So he arrives just in time or a little bit early and they don't make him sit in the waiting room.

That's how this works.

When he comes there for his regularily scheduled appointment, they wave him through.

Because Raphaelle is awaiting him. This is how it works.

So he's not teleporting, just walking by foot, halfway through a bagel. Because he walked past a shop and they had hung out a fresh batch and they smelled really good.

Then his wristband vibrates with a message from Raphael...

He reads the message on the tiny screen.

What? A reset? Why? Is he late? Daylight saving time was recently...

He switches to the watch face. No he's on time.

Just trying to poke him with a stick, huh?

He secures the bagel between his teeth and answers on his phone.

31? ... Funny, that's more than I ever attended originally... I AM on my way, though...

He pushes through the door, swallowing the last bits of the bagel, waving at the female presenting angel manning the reception.

"Hi there Amurel, nice day isn't it, I'll head right in, yes? She already texted me. Can't be late, right?"

An awkward chuckle.

Raphaelle’s phone actually received a message before Metatron arrived.

‘Funny?’ ‘More than he ever attended originally?’ What.

His last appointment was 31 days ago… He’d been late. He’s supposed to be punctual. It… wasn’t that hard to get, was it? What was funny?

The old feeling of long-held irritation resurfaced. Just why was he like that. Just… ugh.

She took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of her nose. If it was anyone else. She’d be perfectly fine with it, might even find explanations. But… nah. Just… nope.

The doorbell was chiming, Amurel greeted the arrival with: “Absolutely fantastic day, indeed! You know the drill, sir, go riiight past the door”

Raphaelle rolled her eyes. Sure. Why not.

And through the door comes a man with bagel crumbs all over him.

She stood up behind her desk and held out her hand, with him she was supposed to check his vitals like that. From what she saw slightly elevated heartbeat, stress levels up, cool skin, but higher temperature. Lets see…

“Aaaand you made it. Without stops or delays,” bagel-breakfasts not withstanding, “… what exactly do you mean with-,“ she glanced at the phone in her other hand “- ‘funny, that’s more than I ever attended originally’?”

Good, good, no stop this time and from a glance, no documents laying around openly visible either...

An internal sigh and he was through the door, save.

Raphaelle, indeed female form this time, offered her hand and he gave her a firm handshake.

He always wondered if the slight tingling meant he could feel that he was being checked... Or if his brain just made him tingle because it assumed he should feel it.

Like stepping on one of those body fat scales. Do you feel the little electricity or do you just think you feel it and therefor you do?

With a contented sigh, Raphaelle shoved the latest file in the ever growing pile of one-time-visitors. She’ll figure out later how exactly some humans knew she could fix complicated bone fractures… but the answer will likely be ‘you had the vibes‘ anyway, so she was not too concerned.

They got off with a referral to simply check if it healed correctly. And it should. She checked for infections, vital signs, bone density and all other complications that could interfere. The only ‘downside’ might be that this girl was going to overestimate heights-to-safely-jump-from for the rest of her life.

Good work, good mood due to an interesting procedure, and she could prepare for the next appointment.

Oh… riiiight.

The next file… was not in a pile. It was a pile. Most of it marked just pages with a ‘CONFIDENTIAL’-sign, a date, and a redirection to her lovely psychologist colleagues’ notes. There were more pages than last time. So that

Tapping her finger and looking at the flourishing plants… the waiting tea-set… the clean glasses, the neatly filed document… she huffed. There was nothing to prepare. She knew the patient perfectly well and had no need for a refresher.

She pulled out the phone and looked at the old messages… skimming through the ‘friendly reminders’ for the next appointments. Mmmmh.

After one minute of staring, she typed out:

’30 days of only perfectly punctual appointments with Metatron, Herald of the Almighty’

Will today be the 31st? Or is a reset warranted?

Hit send… and put it away.

She had no actual doubt that he would be there ten minutes before the time.

And she did know he’d only been five minutes late. And only to her office: Amurel had blatantly ignored some rule or another and then chewed his ear off with her explanations. He’s even be gracious about it!

He was on his way to the clinic, walking.

Strolling, actually, the rest of the way by foot.

Almost through the door. Because he knew he had time.

He would prefer showing up 15-20 minutes early but then he would have to wait and he does not like sitting in the waiting room with other patients and being... perceived... by Amurel.

Awkwardly waving or "white person smiling" at her when their eyes meet, then checking his watch, hoping she calls him in...

It is not like he is some sort of private patient who is above the others and demands to immediately be seen by the doctor, the moment he arrives.

If it was total strangers, it would be different. It's just awkward to sit there with other angels, because... What if they know who he is? What if they try to talk to him.

No one should talk to other people in a doctor's waiting room unless you came there with them.

So he arrives just in time or a little bit early and they don't make him sit in the waiting room.

That's how this works.

When he comes there for his regularily scheduled appointment, they wave him through.

Because Raphaelle is awaiting him. This is how it works.

So he's not teleporting, just walking by foot, halfway through a bagel. Because he walked past a shop and they had hung out a fresh batch and they smelled really good.

Then his wristband vibrates with a message from Raphael...

He reads the message on the tiny screen.

What? A reset? Why? Is he late? Daylight saving time was recently...

He switches to the watch face. No he's on time.

Just trying to poke him with a stick, huh?

He secures the bagel between his teeth and answers on his phone.

31? ... Funny, that's more than I ever attended originally... I AM on my way, though...

He pushes through the door, swallowing the last bits of the bagel, waving at the female presenting angel manning the reception.

"Hi there Amurel, nice day isn't it, I'll head right in, yes? She already texted me. Can't be late, right?"

An awkward chuckle.