[It is the squeak of the train’s brakes that wakes him, and Enoch sits up quickly, reaching for a weapon and finding none. He frowns, and looks out of the window into the darkness beyond, touching his fingers gently to the glass.
It isn’t long before he feels the inexorable urge to leave the carriage, but even then his curiosity about the train doesn’t waver, and he walks up the length of the station, crouching to run his fingertips over the top of one of the wheels]
Interesting.
[He mutters it, then straightens and turns to read the posters plastered up on the wall opposite. Ruby City? Was this something else that the Grigori had created?]
Third Person:
Over his time in Heaven, the scribe had become used to the strange things that Lucifel would bring back from his travels through the development of human civilisation, but this was certainly new.
What had Lucifel meant by giving him these things, anyway? Enoch scratched one fingernail over the strange fabric of the trousers he had been gifted with. What had he called them… jeans? He supposed that they were easier to move in than a robe but it certainly took some getting used to. Nearby, said Archangel was watching him with barely disguised amusement, one hand near his mouth to cover his smile.
“You might have just given them to me. I can dress myself, you know,” he said, referring to the way in which the jeans had, rather than being put in his hand, simply been placed on his person.
“It’s faster like this. They feel nice, don’t they?”
Enoch scratched at the fabric again. “What was wrong with what I was wearing before?”
“These offer better protection.” Lucifel gave a small, dismissive gesture and smiled. “What’s wrong? Don’t you trust me?”
He paused, and took a good look at the other male’s face, measuring his words carefully as he spoke again, slowly running his thumb around the inside of the top of the jeans, getting used to the feeling of it. “Is that a trick question?”
“Do I look like I’d trick you?”
“… That’s definitely a trick question.”
Lucifel just chuckled and turned away as his phone began to ring, and Enoch rolled his eyes. Angels…
Re: [Canon] Enoch || El Shaddai: Ascension of the Metatron || No Reserve
[It is the squeak of the train’s brakes that wakes him, and Enoch sits up quickly, reaching for a weapon and finding none. He frowns, and looks out of the window into the darkness beyond, touching his fingers gently to the glass.
It isn’t long before he feels the inexorable urge to leave the carriage, but even then his curiosity about the train doesn’t waver, and he walks up the length of the station, crouching to run his fingertips over the top of one of the wheels]
Interesting.
[He mutters it, then straightens and turns to read the posters plastered up on the wall opposite. Ruby City? Was this something else that the Grigori had created?]
Third Person:
Over his time in Heaven, the scribe had become used to the strange things that Lucifel would bring back from his travels through the development of human civilisation, but this was certainly new.
What had Lucifel meant by giving him these things, anyway? Enoch scratched one fingernail over the strange fabric of the trousers he had been gifted with. What had he called them… jeans? He supposed that they were easier to move in than a robe but it certainly took some getting used to. Nearby, said Archangel was watching him with barely disguised amusement, one hand near his mouth to cover his smile.
“You might have just given them to me. I can dress myself, you know,” he said, referring to the way in which the jeans had, rather than being put in his hand, simply been placed on his person.
“It’s faster like this. They feel nice, don’t they?”
Enoch scratched at the fabric again. “What was wrong with what I was wearing before?”
“These offer better protection.” Lucifel gave a small, dismissive gesture and smiled. “What’s wrong? Don’t you trust me?”
He paused, and took a good look at the other male’s face, measuring his words carefully as he spoke again, slowly running his thumb around the inside of the top of the jeans, getting used to the feeling of it. “Is that a trick question?”
“Do I look like I’d trick you?”
“… That’s definitely a trick question.”
Lucifel just chuckled and turned away as his phone began to ring, and Enoch rolled his eyes. Angels…