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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]
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She laughs very softly, elbowing him back.
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Someone has been learning from the more wild folks on the island, it seems.
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She scoffs, and takes a deep breath, all the air of her ready to start a ritual-
And then she simply takes out her sending stone, and looks at Angel with a raised eyebrow.
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"Do it."
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"My friend has a question. What's today's definition for who counts as mortal?"
Just as simply as if she still had him in her mind, and was asking that way. Sometimes she'd bask in formalities, sometimes she would just speak directly. He'd know based on her voice, after all.
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After a moment, he answers, in a still-chirpy sort of tone, “A spirit is one pretty solid idea, mortals are anything that’s a whole bunch of fiddly, frantic, disjointed thoughts wrapped up in a skin suit.”
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"Sounds like it's a mortal, then. Thank you for clearing that up."
And she's grinning at Angel in the meanwhile. If it wants to say anything, it can, or she's going to hang up.
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