The smile on Balthazar's face fades at Aziraphael's confession, and he nods slowly. "Like marble statues. No desire, no compassion...bleached tombs filled with nothing but bones."
He loves the Host anyway, because they're his family. Sometimes love is the same as pain.
"I think angels are just another kind of monster," he adds. "Setting aside our proximity to the Divine--or maybe because of that. We carry the very breath of Creation within us, and what to we do with it? We kill things. Mortal things, immortal things, one another..." His gaze has gone distant and grim. Haunted.
"I'm over five hundred million years old, Aziraphale. And nothing, not a thing, I've ever done has had half the meaning or given a tenth as much to the world as a five-minute sketch my vessel did with a hangover, before he'd had his morning coffee."
"Don't ask me why we're the exceptions that prove the rule, but it seems we are, you and I. Let me know if you get some insight on what, exactly, to do with that."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2019-11-04 07:38 pm (UTC)He loves the Host anyway, because they're his family. Sometimes love is the same as pain.
"I think angels are just another kind of monster," he adds. "Setting aside our proximity to the Divine--or maybe because of that. We carry the very breath of Creation within us, and what to we do with it? We kill things. Mortal things, immortal things, one another..." His gaze has gone distant and grim. Haunted.
"I'm over five hundred million years old, Aziraphale. And nothing, not a thing, I've ever done has had half the meaning or given a tenth as much to the world as a five-minute sketch my vessel did with a hangover, before he'd had his morning coffee."
"Don't ask me why we're the exceptions that prove the rule, but it seems we are, you and I. Let me know if you get some insight on what, exactly, to do with that."