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[Open] And Did the Countenance Divine
Who: Angel and You
What: Properly priesting, or trying to at least
When: July
Where: Yes!
Warning(s): None yet
1. I will not cease from mental fight [Temple Matters]
With Degas on his sabbatical, Angel is taking on the full mantle of Priest of the Mothers. He’s wearing the brown robes of a priest and the green stole with braided knotwork patterns similar to Celtic designs along it, even though doing so makes him feel a little like a child in their father’s shoes.
Still, he’s here if you need guidance or blessing, trying to fill the role.
2. Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand [Milk and Honey]
As he’s trying to fill the role of full-time priest, Angel’s still in his robes as he brings products from Kasprak farm into town. Vegetables and fruits, eggs and goat’s milk. And, of course, honey, in small glass jars all with a wax stamp on top–a bee with a pair of stylized feathered wings.
He’s visiting stores and restaurants, but if you catch him on the carriage Arcadia’s pulling, you might get tossed a ripe tomato or offered a melon. There’s plenty to go around.
3. Till we have built Jerusalem [A Day Off]
Sometimes, it’s all a bit much. Angel occasionally runs away from his duties. Never on days when there are services planned, never when he’s scheduled for something. But when restlessness strikes, Angel’s feet take him to the wild parts of the island. Paradesium, Lockwood Forest near Elsie’s Tree, and even nosing around the cave near Tawny Beach, though it’s been caved in since he and River had their adventure. He isn’t wearing his robes, he hasn’t combed his hair, he might be up a tree or sitting on a rock, and he surely isn’t expecting company.
But still, if you approach, there’s a sheepish little nod and a wave.
4. In England's green and pleasant land [Wildcard]
[find me on discord at darkersolstice to plot]
What: Properly priesting, or trying to at least
When: July
Where: Yes!
Warning(s): None yet
1. I will not cease from mental fight [Temple Matters]
With Degas on his sabbatical, Angel is taking on the full mantle of Priest of the Mothers. He’s wearing the brown robes of a priest and the green stole with braided knotwork patterns similar to Celtic designs along it, even though doing so makes him feel a little like a child in their father’s shoes.
Still, he’s here if you need guidance or blessing, trying to fill the role.
2. Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand [Milk and Honey]
As he’s trying to fill the role of full-time priest, Angel’s still in his robes as he brings products from Kasprak farm into town. Vegetables and fruits, eggs and goat’s milk. And, of course, honey, in small glass jars all with a wax stamp on top–a bee with a pair of stylized feathered wings.
He’s visiting stores and restaurants, but if you catch him on the carriage Arcadia’s pulling, you might get tossed a ripe tomato or offered a melon. There’s plenty to go around.
3. Till we have built Jerusalem [A Day Off]
Sometimes, it’s all a bit much. Angel occasionally runs away from his duties. Never on days when there are services planned, never when he’s scheduled for something. But when restlessness strikes, Angel’s feet take him to the wild parts of the island. Paradesium, Lockwood Forest near Elsie’s Tree, and even nosing around the cave near Tawny Beach, though it’s been caved in since he and River had their adventure. He isn’t wearing his robes, he hasn’t combed his hair, he might be up a tree or sitting on a rock, and he surely isn’t expecting company.
But still, if you approach, there’s a sheepish little nod and a wave.
4. In England's green and pleasant land [Wildcard]
[find me on discord at darkersolstice to plot]
no subject
Anzu's unfazed — he merely nods.
"So then, dearest, thou'rt without gender," he says. "And thou owe'st not the pretence of caring, not to me, not to anyone."
He sighs, and looks up at the canopy, drumming his fingers on the branch the two of them sit on, thinking through what to say. He doesn't seem dismissive, merely unsurprised.
And he doesn't want to seem like he's got ready answers to something that's been weighing on Angel's mind for some time.
"The assumptions others shall make ... oy, darling, that is much harder," he says, at length. "None of us are truly free from the assumptions of others, but some of us, us two included, are subject to rather more than others."
He bites his lip, keenly aware that there's little comfort he can offer — the gaze of strangers has always weighed heavy on him, too.
"If thou decide'st to tell others, those what love thee, they'll learn to see thee as thou art, and not as no man, nor aught else with gender. But others may not. And I wish it could be otherwise. But just because some will insist on leaping to conclusions ... feh. Such obstinacy is their crass attitude, not thine. If thou say'st thou'rt not anything what can be gendered, then I believe thee. After all, for all that I'm lucky enough to pass, to be old enough to have forgotten the dread of correcting others ... I'm more like thee than not, nu?"
no subject
no subject
Anzu notes the change in Angel's demeanour, and likewise turns to look at it without staring; he smiles.
"Yes, dearest, I think it's worth to try. The reward of being known even a little bit? Nu, the reward far outweighs the risk."
no subject
no subject
Anzu smiles.
"Only too happy to help, sweetness," he says, and sensing an opportunity to ask something he's been wondering for a while, changes the topic.
"Nu. Tell me, art thou often by this part of Paradesium?"
no subject
It almost sounds guilty with that response.
no subject
Anzu catches that note of not-quite guilt, and raises an eyebrow.
"It's good thou take'st time for thyself," he says, gently. "But I was wondering what thou think'st of Paradesium. I have known not nothing comparable, in all the days of my life. I meant not to scold thee none."