Hoping for Healing
Closed To: @rxphaels​ Date: October 3, 2016 - 12:10 PM Location: The Yard
On Samson’s recommendation, Phoebe was hoping to find Raphael in the yard today. The blonde knew that everyone was always coming to her friend for help, no matter how small the cut or scrape; Phoebe tried not to do this. She could understand and endure a fair amount of pain, especially so as not to be a burden to her dear friend. And, to be fair, so much of her torture was psychological in nature, given Alastair’s preferences; it was less likely that she fell into physical harm, though she also had Lilith to thank for that. Stranger alliances had been formed before and in truth Phoebe cared for nearly none of demonkind, if only for what they represented. Lilith was different and she could appreciate that. In contrast, demons that licked Lucifer’s heels perplexed her; the demons had hated being reigned in by God, these creatures of indulgence and chaos—only the be reigned in by one of their own instead, who keeps them on as tight—if not tighter—a leash?
At least when God was in charge, the demons could do as they pleased and the angels had to clean up after.Â
With great power—responsibility, as they say. It was strange how they took to it, filled with self-importance. How long until that waned, until they no longer wanted to clean up after their own consequences, until Lucifer had a rebellion on his hands? Phoebe didn’t know, but she was willing to bide her time and exploit it when it did. It was inevitable. It was demon nature. Allegiance was just a nice word in the shadows until someone else gave more freedom, offered a stronger leader. Lucifer was still nothing more than God’s favourite, elevated in dishonour. Without God, Lucifer wasn’t enough to fill the void; Lucifer could never bring peace to even his own people. And his people didn’t want peace. How long until the demons woke up and tossed off their yolks? The world is only worth burning down if someone builds it again after. Demons rebuilding after other demons destroyed only fueled dissent; they needed a common enemy to blame, to rile against. Without God, without the angels in full function, the demons could only have boredom and then anarchy. Rank and file held little long-term appeal.
But these ruminations would later need to find appropriate ears; for now, she stepped lightly into the yard, trying not to be dragged down too deeply into the disaster around her. Demons lurked, black wings soaring over, taking as little notice of her as humans did of ants. She looked for Raphael’s tousled dark hair, skimming the tops of heads across the yard until she found him. Moving with the swiftness of a dove in flight, somehow airy and light even among all the drab, she came to his side and lightly placed a hand on his forearm with a gentle smile. “Hello, my friend,” she said with her courtesies, her eyes warm and kind beneath the bruising on her forehead. Her other bruises and contusions—and her fracture—was hidden beneath her clothing. “Might I trouble you for some help?” she asked with a dizzying laugh, gesturing to her head. She didn’t know if he’d heard what happened already, so she didn’t try to explain.
