#voiceofthedamned

Leave a “Quiet Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character trying to calm yours down [be it from crying, from lashing out, feel free to specify.]

Indecision was clear as day in Gabriel’s eyes. He had to make a choice, demons, or humanity. There had been an opening in the fence, and it had been Josephine’s job to occupy Gabriel while the others escaped. The angel turned demon was not one to be tricked, and soon after Jo attempted to occupy him, alarm bells rang off in his head.

Now he was standing, watching as freed prisoners ran on the other side of the fence towards their freedom. If he stayed quiet--they would be free. Yet, what would happen to him? All of his choice up until now had been made based off of who was the winning side. Humans, with their foolhardy plans and limitless hope, were they truly the side that would prevail in the end? Gabriel wasn’t convinced.

Jo, on the other hand, was watching him nervously. She had failed her job, her one moment at self sacrifice. Gabriel had found out.

“Don’t do this,” Josephine said, her arm tugging on his as she tried to pull him away from the fence.

“So clever of you, Josephine, using my attachment for you against me. But I think you were mistaken in just how attached I had become.”

Gabriel’s voice sounded far off, distant, but he had made his choice. And Josephine had made hers.

Before he could turn to fly off and tell the others, Jo grabbed the nearest rock and slammed it against his head. A few tears leaked from her eyes as, for the moment at least, they were saved. He would not talk to a single soul, not for a moment at least. Maybe that was the difference between freedom and shackles. Still--Jo was not without regret at her decision, but she knew she would have surprise on her side.

Gabriel’s dazed body lay on the ground as Jo herself slipped through the fence, her body visibly shaking as she prayed to the nonexistent God that she might survive this yet.

GABRIEL: SILVER-TONGUED

GABRIEL 

GABRIEL

Something was happening. Again. After that fateful dinner two weeks ago, Junia had woken up every morning with a fierce pounding in her heart and sweat beading her forehead, both dreading and hoping that something would happen once more. Though she had been terrified, both before and during the dinner, there was no doubt that it was more preferable to living monotonous days in cells, behind grey walls, feet drudging in the mud of The Yard. And perhaps if something did occur, it would offer her the opportunity to be with her love once more -- that was all she could hope for.

When she awoke that morning to the voices of demons outside her row of cells, more than usual, she knew what she had wished for had arrived. Even though anticipation rolled through her, electrifying her nerves, her stomach still roiled, because she knew horrors were sure to come. In this world, one could not expect good fortune without paying something in return. She heard the distinct sounds of cell gates being pulled open, and waited with bated breath for her own -- she did not have to wait long.

Bright light from the hallway sliced a path across her cheek, causing her to flinch a moment. A figure, a demon backlit and therefore unknown to her, gripped her upper arm firmly, painfully, and hauled her out of her cell. In the hallway, she saw raven feathers milling around with the grey uniforms of the other angels. Junia blinked rapidly, trying to adjust her eyes to the sudden brightness after the dimness of her cell. She caught a glimpse of those who were placed in the cell next to hers, but the mixture of leftover drowsiness that still clung to her mind and confusion from the lights and the break in routine left Junia unable to focus on one face, one surface for too long. 

As she swung her gaze around the hallway though, she caught a flash of a familiar face: Gabriel -- perhaps not the one she had been looking for, certainly not one that would guarantee her comfort, but she held onto it like a lifeline, nevertheless. Doing her best to brush past other bodies, murmuring soft apologies to whom she didn’t even know, she tried to catch his eye. Junia was not sure what she wanted to achieve by doing so, but an answer to her question would be helpful: what was happening?

Time: September 3rd

Availability: @voiceofthedamned

The walk in to Lucifer’s house sufficiently set Jo on edge. Suddenly she felt as if she was being completely consumed by darkness, and walking straight into the mouth of Hell. Even the air felt hotter, as if just being in Lucifer’s domain made it harder to be alive. Jo kept her back straight, and her chin high in the air, she was not going to let her stardom or fame be taken away completely, she would demand the respect she deserved for all of the time she spent obtaining her career. No dinner party was going to scare her. Not when she had walked the red carpet many times, with the entire world watching. A few demons? That was something she was sure she could handle.

Until she saw them. Their black wings were the blackest black she had ever encountered, and there was something about their stance that made her want to wrap her arms around herself. A shield was something she craved just at the sight of their eyes staring at her, and yet, even with that in mind, she stared at them right back. She knew that might have been the stupidest thing she could have done, but looking away seemed like she would be admitting a loss. But she she was not here to lose. She was here to figure out a way to get her life back, or maybe, to find a better position than she could have achieved before.

One of them seemed to stand out from the rest. He stood tall, and stoic, but there was something about him that seemed out of place, as if the wings he had did not suit him as much as they suited the others, or maybe they were just easily transferable. Either way, Jo gave him a long up and down, making herself blatantly obvious, even if she was in the presence of her husband. He had never bothered to notice before, why would he start now?

Jo waited for the demon to do something, to make some sort of move, to acknowledge her. This time, she couldn’t be as bold as she had been before. Now all she had was patience.