waiting in the wings (for Gadreel)

[tryingitall]

Heaven's dungeon is a place not of darkness, but of relentless, merciless light. Light that sears and aches in the eyes of even an angel; light that's heavy and solid, like stones poured over an already-bruised body. No one complains or begs mercy, because it's pointless. Forgiveness is for humans, not the Host. And if the wardens are a little too enthusiastic in their task of meting out divine vengeance...well, they're only following orders.

Balthazar knew all this in theory even before being imprisoned here. It was something vaguely discomforting before, just a scary story. Now he's presented with the reality, and he can't help but wonder why God ever allowed this place to be built.

He supposes it makes about as much sense as Hell. Which is to say, not enough.

There are few enough of them there. He was introduced to Gadreel within the first day. Balthazar's not good at tact, unfortunately; his first greeting was something along the lines of 'so this mess is at least partly your fault'.

But he followed that up with: 'well, shit happens. never mind.' And he hasn't mentioned it since.

Today, the wardens aren't doing their usual vicious jobs. Something's up, and tension is high all around. Meekly and quietly, Balthazar creeps through space to Gadreel's side, wings held low and submissive for the benefit of the limited number of guards still present. What he says as he settles in, though, is: "Hello, Brother! I'm bored. Have you ever played twenty questions?"

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[redeemedhimself]

He's one of the few who has been here since the very beginning. Gadreel, the angel who was tricked into allowing Lucifer into the Garden. Most of the other prisoners either ignored him or joined in with their wardens in dealing out what they thought was just wrath and punishment.

Balthazar was the rare exception and while Gadreel did not understand, he was at least grateful. Conversation, no matter how limited, was at least some way to concentrate on something other than the light or the pain. They had shared a few words, but when you were thrown in prison to rot, what was there to really talk about?

Except things were changing. The wardens were quieter, discussing things among themselves or they simply weren't present. Perhaps they assumed that the angels left were too broken to take notice anymore. He'd been quietly contemplating that when Balthazar slipped up beside him.

Slowly he shook his head. Bored? How does one get bored in a place like this? If you were being left alone that was a respite you savored because it never lasted. "No, Brother. It is not something I am familiar with."