Enoch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
warriorscribe) wrote2011-12-10 04:15 pm
warriorscribe) wrote2011-12-10 04:15 pm
RP - Meridian - Finally home (for smoothangel)
Who: Enoch and Armaros
When: Day 57, morning
Where: His and Armaros's home
What: After a solid day of trekking north to the forest and gathering firewood there, Enoch finally returns home.
He hadn't stopped to rest very much, and definitely hadn't eaten enough for all the work he was doing - though luckily what he did eat was starchy. His body had been built up for endurance over the centuries, and his gradual ascension had only seemed to augment this, so he wasn't in danger of fainting or anything.
Still, though, sleep deprivation is sleep deprivation. He'd been active for more than a full day without meaningful rest. He smiled at the sight of what he couldn't help but begin to think of as home (despite the articles of evidence of the young childless couple that had lived there before, respectfully and carefully stored somewhere safe).
Enoch dragged the large warehouse dolly through the backyard gate and left it there, too tired and cold to unload the firewood and return it to where he'd found it as he'd wanted. He'd just take some of the smaller pieces that didn't need much further cutting to put in the fireplace (a simple matter to figure out with the clear ventilation for smoke and lack of ability to close it, ruling out use as an oven).
He'd brought back something other than fuel for warming fires all winter - he clutched a small bag in his left hand, tightly for his numbed fingertips. It jangled lightly with every step. The blackened jewelry in his friend's hair when he'd washed up on shore had been testament to what he'd been through nearly as much as the state of his body - Armaros being unable to care for his appearance was all too telling, and Enoch felt a need to see Armaros restored in every way possible, even if some new hair clips and thin bangles could only help his self esteem. They weren't fancy, only shiny, but that sort of thing was what Armaros liked, right?
This bag was dropped with a light clink on the fireplace ledge as he shoved the armload of wood inside. Unfortunately, he had yet to figure out what the box of matches in one of the bedroom's desk drawers was for, the box old and its instructions faded. So he started the fire by taking the metal poker and striking the Arch against it inside the fireplace to create sparks until the wood caught.
When he'd stoked the fire into a healthy blaze, he took the bag with the jewelry up again, ready to go wake Armaros - he should be waking up either now or in a couple of hours, right? But the fire was so inviting, his body chilled and numb from the long trek.
It wouldn't make a difference to Armaros if he rested by the fire for a few moments before giving him his gift, would it?
Enoch knelt in front of the ledge, and before he was aware enough of it to stop himself, drifted off to sleep.
And that's how Armaros would find him - slumped forward on his knees in the glow of the crackling flame, slumbering peacefully despite the awkward position.
When: Day 57, morning
Where: His and Armaros's home
What: After a solid day of trekking north to the forest and gathering firewood there, Enoch finally returns home.
He hadn't stopped to rest very much, and definitely hadn't eaten enough for all the work he was doing - though luckily what he did eat was starchy. His body had been built up for endurance over the centuries, and his gradual ascension had only seemed to augment this, so he wasn't in danger of fainting or anything.
Still, though, sleep deprivation is sleep deprivation. He'd been active for more than a full day without meaningful rest. He smiled at the sight of what he couldn't help but begin to think of as home (despite the articles of evidence of the young childless couple that had lived there before, respectfully and carefully stored somewhere safe).
Enoch dragged the large warehouse dolly through the backyard gate and left it there, too tired and cold to unload the firewood and return it to where he'd found it as he'd wanted. He'd just take some of the smaller pieces that didn't need much further cutting to put in the fireplace (a simple matter to figure out with the clear ventilation for smoke and lack of ability to close it, ruling out use as an oven).
He'd brought back something other than fuel for warming fires all winter - he clutched a small bag in his left hand, tightly for his numbed fingertips. It jangled lightly with every step. The blackened jewelry in his friend's hair when he'd washed up on shore had been testament to what he'd been through nearly as much as the state of his body - Armaros being unable to care for his appearance was all too telling, and Enoch felt a need to see Armaros restored in every way possible, even if some new hair clips and thin bangles could only help his self esteem. They weren't fancy, only shiny, but that sort of thing was what Armaros liked, right?
This bag was dropped with a light clink on the fireplace ledge as he shoved the armload of wood inside. Unfortunately, he had yet to figure out what the box of matches in one of the bedroom's desk drawers was for, the box old and its instructions faded. So he started the fire by taking the metal poker and striking the Arch against it inside the fireplace to create sparks until the wood caught.
When he'd stoked the fire into a healthy blaze, he took the bag with the jewelry up again, ready to go wake Armaros - he should be waking up either now or in a couple of hours, right? But the fire was so inviting, his body chilled and numb from the long trek.
It wouldn't make a difference to Armaros if he rested by the fire for a few moments before giving him his gift, would it?
Enoch knelt in front of the ledge, and before he was aware enough of it to stop himself, drifted off to sleep.
And that's how Armaros would find him - slumped forward on his knees in the glow of the crackling flame, slumbering peacefully despite the awkward position.
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He blinked at the spot where the fallen angel's hand had been for a moment. "Armaros?"
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Shouldn't he be in bed?
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Sleep didn't come as immediately as it had before, however. "I shouldn't have to leave for so long for a good while..."
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"Were you able to sleep?" And, of course, only after he said it did he realize it was more likely for the companionship. Oh well.
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He was grateful for this place. He knew now, knew that he wouldn't have to kill Armaros, and that even though he'd be in a terrible place, he'd wind up here, where he'd be safe and taken care of.
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It felt like he wanted to ask something but he obviously couldn't, so...
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He took Enoch's hand and placed it his chest, where his heart should be. It was obvious that he was doing this to try to tell Enoch something, not making him do whatever this was for no reason.
But he stared at Enoch. Did he get it?
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Then, the confused look slowly became a smile. "Are you telling me I'm dear to you? You are as well. You're a wonderful friend, Armaros..."
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What Armaros did next was a little strange. He scooted closer and closer until they were right next to each other, still holding Enoch's hand.
"...Nnn." Apparently, that was good enough closeness for him, because he seemed satisfied.
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"...Do you mean more than that?"
He wasn't quite sure what to think of it, himself, given his fuzzy memory of the time they'd spent together before. But if he didn't have any positive thoughts on it, he wouldn't have asked for clarification.
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A Super Best Friend who he didn't ever want to leave.
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There weren't any strings attached, not anymore. There had once been Enoch himself and then Belial, but now, somehow in Enoch's future (like so many others in this city), he was here.
"I'm glad you're here," he mumbled, half-asleep.
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He leaned forward to give Enoch a chaste kiss on the forehead. He can't really say that he's glad too, but he can show it, at least.
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Enoch had forgotten how much that mattered.
"Mm...It's been a long time since I've felt...home."
Even if his stay would only be temporary, it had to be for Armaros to be here like this. He hoped he would return someday after that, and he hoped that Armaros would stay forever - or at least return only once Heaven would take him back. Of all the things he had come to doubt about Heaven, Enoch did not doubt God's ability to forgive those who deserved it. And Armaros surely deserved it. Being Belial's prisoner had to count as penance enough.
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As far as places go, this city wasn't that bad of a home. A bit weird, but it was something to work with at least. No he nodded at Enoch and settled in again. He should probably let him get some sleep.
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