#acearcalas

“Neither.” Malthael remains seated, attention firmly rooted on the book in his lap.

“I have no time for poetry, and if you’re sending me a letter it had best be urgent.” True, as the Archangel of Wisdom, he was a very busy person. He rarely had time for anything that wasn’t work.

“Oh don’t listen to him.” Imperius slinks into the room, wings held haughtily aloft. “He’s a sucker for tasteful poetry. Even better if you can worm the poetry into a love-letter.” The aspect of Valor begins rooting through the stacks of reports and missives cluttering Malthael's desk.

Acknowledgeing the other angel with only a testy flick of a wing, Malthael keeps his attention on the book. “Rubbish. I have not bothered with such trifles since I was a note. And you had best not be messing up my workspace.”

"It's already a mess." Imperius calmly observes. Still, he does his best to put things back once he's sure it's not what he's looking for. "Anu's dusky tits, where is that form?"

Malthael finally looks up from his book, and scoffs. "Which form? Stop spreading things about, you'll make it worse." Wisdom scurries over to the desk, and begins hurriedly shuffling things back the way they were.

"Ha, so you admit it's a mess." There is a distinct smugness to the larger angel's resonance now. "The one about the balliste, Kolzus submitted it to your office a week ago- did you even read it?" Imperius continues his search, to Malthael's consternation.

"I- yes I read it -stop scattering things- It should be filled out and- put that back-! -It should've been submitted back to his office last rotation-"

"Ha!" Imperius whisks something out from under a crystal paperweight. Momentarily boggled, and having been frazeled by the haphazard search-attempts, Malthael doesn't register the pinked paper for what it is. It's certainly not a balliste request form though.

"See I knew you still liked poetry. Looks like you're casanova here knows too." Lofting himself up, Imperius floats merrily across the room with a letter in hand. "Auriel owes me money, she thought your paramour was-Oof!"

Imperius is cut off by a flying-tackle from a now-extremely-frazzled Malthael. "Release! The note!" Blue-purple wings flare and flutter, occasionally smacking Imperius in the face. For his part, Valor just laughs, and drops the paper.

It flutters innocently to the ground, while the two Archangels tussle overhead.

Peerless in battle he may be, but Malthael was caught offguard when Imperius simply squashed him in an elaborate and cunning move known as a bear-hug.

"I think it's sweet." His normally-booming voice is softer now. "Doesn't mean I won't threaten them ten different ways from Sunday, but I'm glad you found someone." Then he tosses Malthael down to land in a clatter of armor and wings.

Both angels take a moment to compose themselves.

Malthael scoops up the note. "If you tell anyone-"

"Itherael already knows, and they told me and Auriel."

"...If you tell anyone else, I will make the paperwork shitstorm Inarius is so fond of look like note-work by comparison."

Imperius just laughs. Loud, happy and sincere.

"You're secret is safe with me O Aspect of Wisdom." He salutes, wings going rigid.

They stand in silence for a moment.

"...I do need that balliste form though. Kolzus doesn't have it, we checked thrice."

Aggression (Inarius):

Among Heaven's masses, Inarius was known for being approachable. Friendly even. It made him an ideal advocate for the hosts, for they were comfortable bringing their concerns and desires to him. He, in turn, had no qualms about bringing these issues to the Angiris Council, and seeing that they were dealt with as swiftly as possible.

Inarius took his position very seriously. His own discontent led to him being more than willing to try a different way of doing things, and all to happy to argue the council into trying it too.

For this reason, he had a very different reputation among the Councilors: loud, demanding, even aggressive if he didn't get his way. His upbringing as an Angel of Justice meant that not giving in to what he wanted usually meant hours, even days of argument and debate. They had learned very quickly that it was really in everyone's best interests to at the very least hear everything he had to say, and not dismiss him too quickly. The amount of paperwork he was willing to bog them down with if all the host's complaints weren't heard was somewhere between endless and obscene.

But, despite how big of a pain in the ass dealing with their advisor could be, the more things they tried, the happier the host was. He did his job too well, which was probably why Malthael hadn’t thrown him out of the Council Chamber yet.

Grief (Izual):

No one mourned the dead in Heaven. At best, their contributions to society, or victories in battle might be rattled off, before an attempt was made to sing their replacement back from the Arch. More often than not, they were simply forgotten to time.

For this reason, Izual was quite certain that no one back home was grieving for him. After all, he wasn’t even a dead angel. He was fallen.

Did he miss the Heavens? Well. Izual didn’t particularly want to be trapped in Hell, but one didn’t disobey direct orders from their immediate superiors because they agreed with everything.

Heaven had not been home for a long time, if he were being honest. Blasphemous as it made him feel, Izual was almost starting to think Inarius had had the right of it with how he’d constantly challenged the Council. Without him around to force them into re-evaluating their methods...

Things in Heaven were not necessarily bad, but Izual did not think they were going anywhere good.

He doubted any of them would wonder for any amount of time why he’d betrayed Tyrael. Maybe Imperius would fret over the ramifications of losing a lieutenant, and all the information he knew. Maybe they’d try and sing him back from the Arch one day.

But no one would care that he was gone. No one would miss his presence, once another angel had taken over his position.

At least in Hell, the demons around him grew furious upon loosing one of their own. Every death was a call for vengeance. Every drop of blood meant retribution would be had.

Izual might have hated himself for it, but he was starting to find, more and more, that he almost agreed with how the demons reacted. He wasn’t sure if he longed to return to the certain unhappiness of Heaven, or embrace himself in Hell. The average demon didn’t trust him, certainly, but Rakanoth at least seemed down right furious when Andariel had suggested removing him from his ‘care’.

(You’re doing it right :D and tbh these prompts are always open)

“Children- as in Angelings?” Endarius rubs the burgundy metal crowning his forehead. “I’ve mentored many an Angel of Justice over the years. I suppose you want to know about the brothers though, yes? No one ever asks about Mellius or Ardrael after all.”

Zan nods, a little guiltily. “We wanted to know more about Tyrael, and Auriel said you knew him as a baby.”

She thinks the angel might soften at her words. His wings aren’t glowing as bright anyway.

“Angels do not have babies - not with other angels. We are sung from the Arch as a fresh resonance, and then assigned to mentors who will guide and teach us the ways of our also-assigned aspect.” Endarius sounds as though he’s reciting from a manual. “Tyrael was assigned to me several million of your years ago. As I understand it, he had grown into a very different angel than the one he was when freshly sung.”

“He was studious, and followed the rules I taught him to the letter. Sometimes so much so that it would bring him trouble when things went un-according to plan.” His voice is fond now. “I spent many hours talking with him about the strengths in rules, and their pitfalls. Many days trying to get him to see that one needed a balance of the two.”

“He and Imperius drove each other wild. Imperius would often deviate from the set rules, and Tyrael couldn’t stand it.” Endarius chuckles to himself, before going quiet for a long moment.

“Things changed when Inarius was lighted. Of course, given his resonance, he was assigned to me as well, even though I was not yet done with Tyrael. I don’t know how siblings work for your people.” He speaks lowly. “But for us they are extraordinarily rare. Two angels that occupy the same resonant space. Some call it a blessing, others a curse. A discord.”

Zan swallows. “From what I’ve heard of Inarius, I can’t imagine he appreciated that.”

“No. No he didn’t.” She thinks Endarius might be smiling, albeit in that painful-sad way people sometimes did. “For All I tried to teach him not to listen to such words, I don’t think he ever got over being labelled as a curse upon his older brother.”

“Were they friends with each other?”

“Sometimes. I suspect their existence was more nuanced than we think, but to an onlooker it was as though they embodied two sides of a coin.” Endarius’s wings flutter meaningfully. “Tyrael would follow his laws to a T. Inarius...did not necessarily want to break those laws. He wanted to change them.”

“That must’ve caused plenty of arguments.”

“More than I knew what to do with.”

~~~~

Rolling with Mentors again - Endarius was tasked with teaching the future Archangel of Justice and his bratty little brother all about Life. He probably gets a lot of unnecessary flak for their actions later in life. Poor guy.

I already see your process. Can't wait to see what else you have planned.