It is nice and calm and undisturbed in Daimon's room.
Daimon is cuddled up against Chephirah, where the world is warm and safe and makes a little sense.
Sephar sighs quietly, stirs next to Daimon.
Chephirah approves of calm and undisturbed. She keeps a wing over Daimon and Sephar, gentle.
Sephar says "I should... probably report sometime."
Daimon starts to sit up, and wipes his eyes. "I want to get out of my vessel and take a shower and get rid of the Hell stink."
Sephar nods. "That sounds like a good idea."
Chephirah agrees, "That sounds like a very good idea."
Sephar says "Uhm... when you get back to Earth, with your Vessel, would you check if my mouse is still in your pocket?"
Sephar says "I think it got gassed when you were, so should be safe there, but..."
Sephar sighs mildly.
Daimon says "I will, Sephar."
Sephar says "Thank you."
<
Daimon mmmms, and kisses Chephirah on the nose. Then he gets up to head into the bathroom.
The vessel drops away, back into cold vessel storage until it's time to head to Earth.
Sephar hugs Daimon and likely gives him two points, too, as it was filled up, minus two for the
messages.
Daimonique smooches Sephar, too, as the neat Judgment tie and Judgment suit start to become
a mess of clothing on the floor.
Sephar blushes.
Sephar then drifts out the door to its own Halls.
Chephirah flutters her wings lightly, considering. "I should write a summary, too. Where shall we
meet?"
Sephar peeks back in the door at Chephirah's statement to hear Daimonique's answer.
Daimonique starts dropping underwear into the mess of suit. "I was going to go for a walk.
Maybe talk to the guys down the hall, and then maybe go up to the Halls of Worship. I'm really
not ready to go to the Spires yet."
Chephirah says "Shall we meet there?"
Sephar watches both of you quietly.
Daimonique is reaches over and grabs her kimono. "Halls of Worship. Yeah, we can meet
there."
Sephar nods a bit of cloud and wisps away.
Chephirah agrees, "All right." She purrs fondly. "I'd ask you not to get into trouble, but you'd
have so much less fun."
Chephirah winks, and paces out.
Outside the door are Melchior and an unfamiliar Malakite, both eating chocolate cake. Melchior
grins at Chephirah as she passes.
Daimonique grins a little bit, and disappears into the bathroom to take a very long, hot shower
to try to get rid of that wonderful Hell stench.
The shower is long, and hot, and cleansing, and removes all trace of Hell stench.
Chephirah rumbles a purr to Melchior, and nods to the Malakite. Doesn't intrude on their
cake-eating, however. Just paces, finding her way out and to the Library.
The Malakite nods back politely.
<
Daimonique waits until she's a prune to get out of the shower, and then dresses in more
comfortable style - jeans, sleeveless black t-shirt, leather jacket, tennis shoes. She doesn't bother
to dry her hair, just ties it back into a long, slicked back black pony tail. The guitar gets grabbed
and slung over a shoulder.
Daimonique dodges Legos and drifts of clothing and computer toys and electronics and music and
beaded curtains to make it out of her room and into the corridor beyond.
Melchior swallows his mouthful of cake, and nods to the Malakite beside him. "Here she is now.
How are you feeling, Daimonique?"
Faber nods in greeting, into a bite of cake, so gives Melchior a dirty look.
Daimonique blinks at the guys waiting for her in the hallway. "Oh, hi guys. Um, depressed, but
not in a really bad way."
Faber swallows. sticks a fairly clean hand out in greeting, "I'm glad ta hear it. I'm Faber, just
hearin' from Melchior here about your adventures."
Melchior says, with the composure of one whose mouth isn't full of cake, "Daimonique, this is
Faber, one of our brothers. Faber, this is Daimonique, one of our sisters."
Faber chuckles.
Daimonique looks up at the Malakite and goes all gooey. It takes her a second to get over, well,
him, before she takes his hand and shakes it. "Hi. I'm Daimon."
Faber nods, "Glad ta meetcha. Very. Always good to see Eli up to stuff." HIs grip is firm but not
harsh.
Daimonique says "Up to his stuff?"
Faber says "Hyup."
Daimonique says "I, um...... um. I was, um, gonna go for a walk, actually."
Faber says "Cool. Want company? If not, no problem."
Faber slouches a bit, just relaxed and a bit lazy.
Daimonique says "Um, sure. I probably shouldn't be alone right now anyway."
Melchior says, "I should be getting back to work. Catch you two around?"
Daimonique goes pale. Wait, wait, you're leaving me alone with a Malakite? Um...
Faber blinks mildly at Melchior and then nods, "Sure." and smiles at Daimonique.
Daimonique blushes a bright red.
Melchior chuckles, riffles his wings, and wanders back down the corridor, empty plate balanced
on the back of his hand.
Daimonique continues to brush a bright red.
Faber grins at the blush.
Daimonique says "So, ah, erm, I was gonna wander up to the Halls of Worship eventually. But
in the mean time, I was just going to, I dunno, walk."
Faber says "Sure. Anything you wanna see, or just wander around?"
Faber says "It's fun to just see all the choices and take 'em as they come."
Daimonique says "Not really. I just wanted to see whatever there was to see."
Faber sets the mug down inside the doorway opposite Melchior's.
Daimonique says "I think I just need to be for a little bit. You know, just exist."
Faber says "Yeah."
Faber says "Breathing is good."
Daimonique says "A little centering. Maybe a little music. Who knows."
Faber smiles, "Music... yeah."
The Halls of Creation are bright and filled with light. Threads of music drift from distant corridors
and rooms, mingled with the sounds of hammering, dance, or other forms of art.
Daimonique says "It's one of my few pillars of sanity."
Daimonique walks along, hands shoved deep into leather jacket pockets, guitar banging against
her back.
Faber says "It's always there, even when the world gets unrecognizable..."
Daimonique says "My world is pretty unrecognizeable right about now."
Faber walks along as well, just an easy flow of muscles under skin and jeans.
Faber is barefoot, doesn't seem to even consider shoes and nods, listening.
Daimonique thinks all sorts of thoughts that generally aren't particularly PG-rated.
<
Faber imagines non-PG-rated thoughts keep Daimon from dwelling, so doesn't seem to mind.
<
Daimonique says "So, um, what do you do?"
Faber says "Stuff."
The corridors wind downwards towards one of the fifth-storey exits through a large bow window
onto the airs of Heaven beyond. Two passing souls nod as they go by.
Faber says "Mostly metal work, some architechture."
Daimonique peers at the exit. "Oh boy, This means flying, doesn't it."
Faber says "I like the high steel."
Faber eyes the windows, "You don't like flying?"
Daimonique says "I keep thinking that I'm going to jump off the ledge and hit the ground at
terminal velocity."
Faber says "I could take you down if you'd like."
Daimonique says "No, I gotta get used to this whole wings thing."
Faber nods, "Want me to under you?
Daimonique . o O ( Yes - er, um. )
Daimonique says "No, no, I can do this."
Faber . o ( She got it )
Faber nods then and stands askide.
Daimonique looks over the edge of the ledge. Oh boy.
Faber hrms and stands next to her, looking out.
Daimonique tests one pretty flimsy and transparent looking wing, and then tests the other one.
This is just light, ya know. It's not all stormcloud soft feathers.
The wings flex reassuringly.
Daimonique closes her eyes and steps off the ledge. One Lilim splatter, comin' up.
The winds of Heaven catch at Daimonique's wings, and she is flying free and high.
Daimonique flaps around, and tries not to look too much like a goof.
Faber laughs and springs into the air after her.
Daimonique . o O ( WOAH. )
In the distance, other figures catch flecks of light like tiny gems from the eternal clear light.
Daimonique stabilizes after some inexpert turns and getting all flipped around the wrong way.
Faber curbs the instant exuberance of being in the air, and sedately glides near Daimonique, just
small touches of wing angle keeping the winds of Heaven holding him up near her.
Faber says "Cool. You're gettin' it."
Daimonique flies around free for a little bit, goofing around and playing in the air.
Faber grins and goofs off with her. "Hey... try this..." a motion that allows her to flip at any 90
degree angle...
The Halls of Creation and the Halls of Progress lie below, sparkling and fascinating and elegant.
Other buildings gleam further off; Marc's Tower, the Council Spires, and the golden buildings of
the Eternal City.
Daimonique tries the flip, and then heads for a Immelman in the air. Come up, flip 90 degrees,
roll...
Faber laughs and applauds the Immelman.
The roll comes off, and the air is cool and glorious.
Daimonique laughs, and then stops goofing. She comes near to hovering by Faber. "So where
to?"
<
<
<
Faber circles slowly, half-lazily up, catching currents where he can, and looks around. "Anywhere.
That's the coolest word."
Faber says "Hm... anything you wanna do? Music in the Glade, jammin', or partyin' or if you just
wanna look at stuff, up here is cool."
Daimonique flies lazily in the direction of the Eternal City. "I was going to go do something... that
I feel I need to do. And after that, I wanted to feed some ducks."
Faber says "Sure."
Faber says "Ducks."
Daimonique flies in a lazy circle. "I mean, what do the ducks DO in Heaven? There has to be
ducks here. Are they happy ducks? Sad ducks? Deep and meaningful ducks?"
The walls of the Eternal City, built out of vast semi-precious stones, pass beneath the flying pair.
Malakim and Cherubim and other angels move along the walls in patrol.
Faber quacks experimentally and follows with lazy strokes of the wings, "Probably pretty happy
ducks if they're up here."
Faber says "Though, honestly, I've never spoken with a duck here."
Daimonique says "When I was sad, I used to go and feed the ducks. They always seemed so
happy, you know, to just be ducks. They didn't want to be swans or pelicans or penguins. They
just wanted to be ducks and lead happy duck lives. I always wanted to know the secret of being
a duck."
Faber waves to a Cherub as they fly over.
Faber nods, "Something to being content with what you are."
Daimonique says "That probably sounds pretty silly, actually."
The Cherub returns the salute, from afar.
Faber smiles quietly at the return.
Faber says solemnly, "It does."
Daimonique says "You'd think that I would want to go off and talk to Fyodor Dostoevsky or
listen to some well played Chopin or stare at a room full of Monet or other intellectual pursuits
instead of wanting to know what a bird knows. So much for my intellectual facade."
Faber says "I would?"
Daimonique says "I dunno. Maybe."
Faber eyes you quietly, "You're a Creationer, why wouldn't you find wisdom in a duck?"
Daimonique says "I would like to find wisdom in all things. Like, what's it like to be a fish eating
a shrimp, and what's it like being a shrimp who is being eaten by a fish. Or what it feels like to be
a cloud."
Faber says "Exactly."
Daimonique says "I think it would feel very big. To be a cloud, that is."
Faber says "Probably. Or diffuse, or wet..."
Faber laughs quietly.
Daimonique says "But you could look down on the world and see everything."
Faber says "And let the wind make all your choices for you."
As the two angels sweep across the Eternal City, below can be seen the arcing spires of the Halls
of Worship, dark-stoned like some Catholic church. Nearby stands the Church of the Sword,
stained glass windows glowing like living roses.
Faber says "As to what you'd see, where you'd go?"
Daimonique says "Although everyone would look like ants."
Daimonique aims to land in front of the Halls of Worship.
Faber backwings a bit to gives Daimonique the space for whatever landing she manages.
The Lilim lands as lightly as a feather. There are no guards on the doors of the Halls of Worship.
Souls and angels alike pass in and pass out unchallenged.
Faber looks up, looks down at his jeans, laughs softly, "Ah well, I never did dress up for
Church."
Daimonique says "Neither did I. I don't think God cares if we wear jeans or suits."
Daimonique passes through the doors, checking out the sights.
Faber says "I agree."
Inside lies a classical Catholic church, rood-screen before the altar, floor patterned in mosaics,
wooden pews set out for some service. The quiet notes of some distant choir echo.
Faber paces in quietly behind Daimonique, wings furled.
The rose window above the altar glows with scarlet and deep blue and gold. Side-chapels open
off to either side, where the air seems quieter. Statues of saints and biblical figures stand from
place to place. And yet, there is the sense of more, that what Daimon - and Faber - are seeing is
only the surface of something far deeper and far brighter.
Daimonique feels subdued as she walks into the church.
The choir's voices are distant and shadowed as they chant a psalm.
Faber closes his eyes a moment, and sighs softly, smiling and opposite from Daimonique, he seems
to open up more, motion just a touch freer.
Daimonique pads up through the church toward a pew near the front.
There are spare pews near the front, though from place to place souls and angels kneel in prayer,
heads bowed.
Faber walks after her, respectful and quiet.
Daimonique slides into a pew, and pushes down the knee rest. She kneels, head bowed, and for
a few minutes, her lips move in prayer.
Daimonique raises her head, and peers at the altar. She looks around, and back down at her hands
clasped before her.
Faber slides in beside her, kneels as well, but looks up at the light, and if he prays it's entirely
silent.
The gentle light falls through the high windows, cutting across the shadowed aisle like edgeless
swords.
Faber relaxes, patient, dark, comfortable in the quiet.
Daimonique looks up at the light. She whispers when she speaks. "I've come because I've got to
get some things straight. In the last two weeks, I've lost my friends, I've lost my job, I've lost my
family, and I've lost my home because what I felt I was doing was right. Is this how it works? You
strip everything away, You leave the soul naked and bare and alone, and so that the only thing
they are left with is faith. A part of me believes that trading my life for my faith was a worthy
trade, that I won in the end, but there is the other part of me that is so _angry_. Right now I feel...
betrayed. And used. And dirty. And somewhat ill. I feel like I've been a thing for so long, and now
that I can see it....
"There are times when I really feel like Aron is right - that I'm nothing more then a cosmic
miscalculation. That my redemption was nothing more then a clerical error, a poorly miscarried
one somewhere in the whole scheme of things and it's just a matter of time before the accident is
cleared up. I don't know what to say to that, really. I'm a poor servitor, I can't listen, I can't follow
orders, and sometimes I think it's just a matter of time before I'm given the boot. I've never
actually been a good servitor ever, for anyone, but You know that. It's all part of being miswired.
"But while I might not be able to take Heaven, I might not be able to do it right, I so never
want to leave the Symphony. I wanted to thank You for accepting me anyway, even if I am a
mess.
"So watch over my friends, and please God, watch over my sister and make sure she's okay,
because I can't do it anymore. It's out of my hands now, and help me, they sure need someone to
watch over them."
Daimonique falls silent.
Faber does his best not to choke over the miscalculation and error bit, if he can hear that, but
nostrils flare.
Daimonique says, after a minute, "I don't think He ever really hears me, but it's worth a shot
anyway."
There is no answer to Daimonique's prayer. There is only the stillness of the church, and the
murmur of the choir, and the gentle, undying light.
Faber says softly, "Sometimes all you need is to say it."
Daimonique peers up at the ceiling. "I don't blame Him, being up there in the upper Heaven, like
a big cosmic cloud, looking down on everyone where he can see them all equally. It's a real mess
down here, and there's a whole bunch of very sad people who need to help themselves before they
can help Him."
Faber nods at that.
Faber says "He has to leave 'em free to choose. Doesn't make the anger go away, though, or the
hurt."
Daimonique says "What happened, down there in Hell, hurt me badly in a way I can't ever explain.
The hurt is going to be there, like a thing, for a long time. But I just can't ever go back."
Faber nods.
Faber says "Yeah. Sometimes faith is a lonely way to go."
Daimonique says "It's such a sad place. It's not so much a horrible place or a terrifying place or
a frightening place as it's very very sad. It's a whole bunch of very scared people who don't know
what to do or where to go and they're very alone. I know. I _know_ this."
Faber grins a little crookedly and listens.
Daimonique says "My faith isn't the strongest, and I'm working on it. But I have to have it. I Need
God. Like the way Lilim Need geasa or freedom, I Need God."
Daimonique says "I suppose, if you have God, you're never really ever going to be alone, no
matter where you are."
Faber says "We all Need Him, weither we acknowledge it or not."
Faber nods.
Faber says "Though we might be lonely, yes, we're not alone."
Daimonique says "And that, I think, is the whole secret."
Faber frowns quietly.
Faber nods.
Daimonique says "I'm sorry. I'm a very depressing person sometimes."
Daimonique sighs.
Daimonique says "Hey. Wanna go feed some ducks?"
Faber laughs quietly, "Sure."
Daimonique says "Me too."
Faber moves out from the pew, hooking hte kneeling pad back up.
Daimonique follows suit.
Faber pads quietly from the place, giving it one last look before he crosses the threshold.
Daimonique pads out quietly, trying to keep the guitar from jangling away.
The stillness of the church dies away, and the two angels stand once more on the golden street
of the Eternal City.
Faber is still frowning mildly at himself. "I... hm... was just thinking..." It's obvious it's hard to get
the words out, "Just... about faith and loneliness and the like. All us Creationers have to get by
on Faith, sometimes, it's how our Boss is, you know? Maybe that's why he picked you, too."
Daimonique says "Maybe. Although, for a very long time, I was very angry at God."
Faber says "Yeah. Sounds like you had reasons."
Daimonique says "I don't know. I'd get up in the morning, and it would be just another day. I
would do my job, and hoped that I wouldn't run into something that wanted to kill me. I'm a total
pacifist - mostly."
Faber hms quietly, "You have bread?"
Faber says "Or corn or whatever ducks eat?"
Daimonique says "Nope. None at all. I figured a little essence would provide."
Faber says "Oh. Cool."
Daimonique says "You know, a little bit of will, and zingo, enough duckfood to feed a whole
colony of ducks for a _month_."
Faber says "Yeah. Easy. Now where?"
Faber says "The Savannah, maybe..."
Faber says "There's some wetlands, I think... haven't been there for a while, though."
Daimonique says "Or the Glade? Maybe there are some duck ponds."
Faber says "Maybe."
Faber says "That's nearer, we should probably try that first."
Daimonique nods, as that sounds like a plan. "Okay."
Faber takes to the air, without a thought.
Daimonique attempts this taking to the air thing, and with a little bit of a struggle and a little
gracelessnes, does so.
Faber circles a few times to be sure she gets up okay, after realizing, and then heads for the
Glade.
Daimonique follows after, swooping and goofing and spinning in the air.
Faber laughs quietly, circles back and then plays with her, wingtips lightly brushing her wings and
shoulders, now and again, encouraging the play and cheering on the more dizzying spins.
Daimonique plays happily, laughing, and swooping after him in the air.
Faber 's expression seems to lighten significantly as he rolls and whirls, wings and limbs in joyous
coordination.
Daimonique laughs out loud, and she seems to forget her problems and her pain, and spends more
of her time trying not to lose her guitar, as she swoops and dives and whirls and plays in the
air.
Faber gradually seems to dance with Daimonique in the air, motion matching motions, the beats
of his wings matching her efforts, always watching her, always playing with her, occassionally
touching the guitar back in place, and sometimes egging her onto something more fun.
Daimonique follows his dance, beating her wings, and laughing out loud into the wind.
Faber laughs with her, and with gradual guiding and deft touches and a few happily laughing
tturns, they come within hearing distance of the Glade's music.
Daimonique says "Oh, the Glade!"
Daimonique says "I was there once, but I was a little out of it, and in a mood."
Faber nods, breathlessly, now lightly sheened with sweat, "I usually avoid it when I'm in a mood,
but I'm glad you got to go there."
Daimonique says "I was with Sephar, and we couldn't stay long."
Faber says "Ah. Well, unless you have other appointments or something I think we can stay a
while."
Daimonique says "Nope. No appointments."
Daimonique spins lazily in the air.
Faber tumbles in a flash of dark wings and land and bows gently, "Then welcome to the
Glade."
Daimonique lands, fairly gracefully. "Why, thank you kind sir. Such a reception I have never had."
She flashes him a grin.
Faber grins back.
Faber gives Daimonique his arm and they walk towards the music, and then veer off a bit towards
what water they can see...
Daimonique takes his arm, and blushes bright red again.
Faber is looking for ducks so doesn't quite see the blush bloom...
Daimonique is looking around, and makes a little "quack".
Faber grins quietly at the 'quack' and peers through the reeds around the pond as they get
closer.
Daimonique says "I'm trying to attract some ducks."
Daimonique quacks again, a little louder. "I'm speaking to them in their own language. I'm saying,
'We have some good tastee treats'."
A quiet quack from the reeds answers Daimonique's quack, and a jewel-toned mallard comes
waddling and then swimming out towards them followed, eventually by a brown female and a few
yellow chicks.
Faber blinks mildly, "Ah..." and then blinks again as there is an answer, "Looks like you know
what you're doing."
Daimonique blinks, looks surprised, and then breaks out into giggles.
Faber grins at the giggles.
Daimonique says "I can talk to ducks! It's my secret. Only you know it, now, so it's only between
us."
The ducks come swimming out, and dunk themselves in the pond, tails up.
Faber says "But it would be such a boon to all angel kind!"
Faber says "Please, can't I tell a *few* friends?"
Faber's eyes crinkle a bit with held in laughter.
Daimonique says "Shhhhh! It's just between _us_. Besides, if you told everyone, it wouldn't be
a secret anymore!"
Daimonique does a little twirl on one toe, and then _poofs_ up a cubic foot of duck nibbles.
"Abracadabra! And.... um.... I think we can feed all the ducks in Heaven with all this."
Faber laughs!! "Maybe. Don't ducks start appearing from nowhere when they're actually being
fed?"
Daimonique plops on the ground. "I think we might be mobbed."
Faber nods solemnly, "I'll protect you."
Daimonique says "From the ducks! You big, strong, powerful Malakite!"
Daimonique makes great big anime-like eyes.
Sure enough, ducks start to appear from the quiet reeds, as the first ducks get to the duck nibbles
and start to quack their delight.
Daimonique takes a handful of the duck food, and holds it out to the ducks.
Faber falls over laughing at the anime eyes.
The colorful mallard approaches a tad cautiously, but as if the caution is more habit than
necessary, it eventaully reaches out to eat from Daimonique's hand.
Daimonique looks happy, and quacks at the ducks. "Quack."
The other ducks follow suit, waddling in closer, or swimming in closer to nibble and watch and
a few quack in responce to Daimonique and each other.
Faber laughs softly, takes a handful of the duck food and tosses it out into the water, and watches
the ducks greedily go after every nibble and bite.
Daimonique says "See? I would want to be a big fat duck."
Daimonique flashes a big smile. "Then people would come and feed me nibbles and I could stick
my butt up in the air any time I wanted."
Faber nods, "Simple life. Few choices."
The ducks are now a low-key chorus of quacks and water nibbles, fluttering wings and clacking
beaks. A few more come out but they're not overwhelming in number. Some jewel colored, a few
white, some grey.
Faber tosses more nibbles out into the water, watching quietly as they eat so quickly and
thoroughly. "No waste, no worries, especially here."
Daimonique sits, indian style, and pulls out her guitar. "Maybe I should write the duck song. And
it should go like..." she strums a C, followed by a G and an Am, "Quaaaaack, quack quack quack
quack, quackity quack quack QUACK!"
Faber sits and listens quietly, tossing more food out.
One duckling wanders very near Daimonique's knee, listening to her and quacking nearly
completely out of time with her.
Daimonique throws her head back and laughs.
The duckling hops up onto Daimonique's knee and hopefully nibbles at the base of a string.
Daimonique picks up some duck nibble. "Hey, hey, now, nylon isn't good for ducks. There are
no vitamins in guitar strings."
Faber watches the duckling with bemusement.
Daimonique attempts to explain to the duckling why a nylon acoustic guitar string just isn't part
of a duckling's regular FDA approved diet.
The other ducks waddle in closer, and nibble at the pile of duck nibbles.
Daimonique grins at Faber, a little flushed red.
The duckling flips its wings and seems to listen for a while, but then snakes a little stab at the
handful of duck nibbles in her hand.
Faber grins back.
Daimonique says "WOAH!" as she's completely surprised.
Daimonique says "I'm being attacked!"
Faber asks, lazily, "Do you need defending?"
Daimonique says "Maybe a little."
Faber says "Hokay."
Daimonique says "It's the duck brigade!"
Faber gets up, wings furled and plucks the little duckling from Daimonique's knee and sets it on
top ofthe cubic foot of duck nibbles. "There..."
The duckling nips Faber's hand as he sets it down to free it.
Faber says "Ow."
Daimonique giggles. "Now he's in duck heaven. I mean, he was literally before, but now it's all
very allegorical."
Faber laughs!
The duckling then goes for the nibble with a flip of its wings.
Daimonique sets down the guitar. "You were attacked! You took a wound from your great battle
with the duckling! Forsooth!"
Faber's face goes through four expressions before he finally just cracks up.
Faber says "Sorry. I can't... not with a straight... face..."
Faber just collapses, laughing, next to Daimonique.
The duckling triumphantly nibbles as all the other ducks gather around the pile and quack to each
other and nibble now, now nearly so hungrily.
Daimonique crawls over, closer, to Faber. "How ever will I be able to repay my savior and great
hero?"
Faber's face goes still for just a moment as he watches Daimonique crawl closer, he finally grins
and says softly, "You owe me nothing, sister. Just choose what you would wish to do."
Daimonique says "Anything?"
Faber blinks, thinks, then nods, "Yes."
Daimonique leans over and kisses Faber on the lips.
Faber's breath is a small, sharp inhale, and then he kisses her back, slowly, softly, with all the care
a Creationer can muster.
Daimonique blushes deeply, and returns his embrace, equally caring and passionate.
Faber's fingers lightly stroke her jaw, and as she moves close, he gathers her into his embrace,
each motion only after she's chosen to move closer as they both deepen the kiss.
And dark wings gradually close with brilliant tie dye with the background quacks of
well-contented ducks.
Quack.
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