tampered | Log; Complete

Log; Complete

When; April 8th, morning
Rating; PG?
Characters; Adam {

againstgod}
Summary; With Adam's Anti-Christ tendencies aroused by the events of the night previous, he gets it in his mind the world should be fixed. Thankfully, Alexiel is around for some damage control and invites the boy flying.
Log;

The world was screaming.

... Not so much screaming as thrumming, a feeling deep within him that told him everything was wrong. Look at it. The boy's eyes looked down from the edge of the roof at the people below, moving, so small. Just like ants. Alexiel... she was good. She didn't need to be fixed like the others, and she was going to take him flying. ... Flying.

He'd stood beside War the night before. He'd gone to make sure she wouldn't... wouldn't make things worse, wouldn't try and intervene, or... he didn't know. Adam had gone, but instead of the outcome he expected... it was just going to be a rescue, right? People had gotten kidnapped and they were going to be rescued and that was good, right?

But it was all wrong, it had been so wrong, the people, the violence, the god-thing, the blood, the sacrifice... He'd been sick. And he still felt sick, because the world felt sick.

Crouching, he huddled in on himself at the roof's edge, eyes peeking out over his knees, brow furrowed. He... He could fix it. It felt like last time, when he'd realized just how wrong everything was. Except there wasn't much to stop him now. No Tadfield to save. Nothing to tie him. ... A world that needed fixing.

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It was a pity that Adam had to watch that. Alexiel knew the sight was impressive: the rage, the tears, the blood. But she admired those who opposed a deity with courage. That was what the fighting spirit was about. Even so, she could not join either side; her power was too great to disturb the balance in that aspect.

The best she could do is to soothe a confused boy who happened to be Lucifer's child of another world.

Cloaked with her brown cloak and mask and her former fighting outfit, the angel soared up the sky with three, resplendent white wings. She had three more, but would never spread those as long Rosiel remained in the City. The wind did not clash against her hair and robes, she had mastership over it, thus it blended naturally with all her form.

In a heartbeat, the former Great Organic Angel reached the agreed rooftop, offering a hand down to Adam while she stared at him with soft, blue eyes.

"Ready?"

Adam looked up. She was beautiful. Everything about her, from the way she was built to the way she stood was beautiful, like something good. Something... good. Her prescense was soothing to him, dulled the feeling in his soul that cried to will it different, that told him he could fix things. You could fix everything, Adam. The destroyer of worlds, the adversary...

He didn't speak, he almost felt afraid to, reverent, in a way. But he nodded, tentatively standing and readhing out to grasp her hand tight. He eyed the ground beneath them, so far down from the rooftop. ... Heights. Not scary at all, most certainly not. But despite being the son of Satan, the Anti-Christ, Adam Young was a boy, a boy who wanted to be human and wanted to have power, too, and maybe heights could be a little scary if he let them.

When Adam took her hand, Alexiel smiled and pulled him up, wrapping his small body with one of her long arms. She had a warm aura, not a good one, but of the positive concept that was unrelated to moral views of good and evil. Her brother held an opposite one. Yin and Yang, Alpha and Omega. Half of a Whole.

"Don't close your eyes," Alexiel suggested, tucking him before flying out the perimeter of the roof and diving into the soft clouds of the City. Her wings rustled softly, making their flight a slow and panoramic one. There was no hurry in the sights she would show him. "Look down," she beckoned. "What do you see?"

The people were too small, like ants, moving but there were a sea of them.

"Alright." Adam murmured, hands gripping the angels arm tight, but he was careful not to grip too hard. Didn't want to appear like he needed something to hold on to or anything like that. As they stepped off the rooftop and into the air he sucked in breath, that moment of shock that was his body telling him he should be falling, but it passed, the rustling of feathers in his ears a soothing noise.

"... What do I see?" He echoed her question, looking down. It was... sort of scary, but he felt safe with her. People. Tons of people, all going about their business, their lives...

"People." He answered, craning his neck to look at the angel's face. "Lots of 'em."

In despite of all gentleness, her grip was firm. She had the hands of a warrior, strong and merciless in a battlefield. Alexiel longed for those days, sometimes.

She looked down with him, staying on the same spot in the air, above a great cloud.

"Can you imagine? To fix all those people? To think a better life for each of them?" she asked. "Not every of them know how to improve it and each has the power to modify their own existence. It's called a choice, Adam. Free will." She paused, looking at him next. "Do you know better? If you want to fix them, you will have to think a life for each of them. Dreams, fears, goals, loves."

"... I could get to know them." Adam protested weakly, torn between the soothing feel of the angel and the seducing whisper of his powers. "I could meet them and know them... and fix them one by one, so I could help them..."

It sounded bad to him, sounded weak to him, but he couldn't not say it. The images from the other night made him sick, made him feel squemish in his stomach with a need to fix things.

"... Can't I? Wouldn't they be happier if I fixed them?"

"Look down, Adam. Do they look unhappy?" Alexiel asked, diving down slowly. The City had recovered their pace and joy after the incident. It was quiet but loved ones had been reunited, wounds were healing, chocolate eggs were being eaten.

"How long will it take to meet each of them? To know their dreams, their misery, their loves and hates. And when you finish that, you will have to imagine a better life, but would they be the same people than before?" she asked. Making a pause, Alexiel brushed his hair with her free hand. "Yesterday was quite bloody, but that violence doesn't make those people, bad people. In the past, eons ago, that spilled blood would be just a drop of that I shed during my war. Would you like to fix me too?"

"... Violence isn't bad, though, on it's own." Adam closed his eyes for a moment. The brush of her hand against his hair reminded him of his mother. "For causes, or for good, or against... bad things." He couldn't imagine the angel with him fighting just for the sake of blood and hurting people. "... Last night was just bad, it was for bringing back that man and he was dead, when... when people die they're supposed to stay dead."

He looked down, somewhat chastised, eyes picking out people in bright colors and following them with his eyes.

Alexiel kept silence, taking Adam away from the City to fly above the green areas. The garden. A green landscape extended below with multicolored spots that were the blossoms.

The air smelled fresh there.

"Death is a curious thing for me, Adam. There is no one better who understands the process. I have died many, many times. Yet, death will never truly claim me."

She stopped before the ever blossoming and wilting lilies. "What would you do if your friend died?" she asked. "When grieving, people do unthinkable things. Just like when they are angry."

"... I would be upset." Adam answered, slightly distracted as he marvelled at the mere significance of what was going on, flight, something so amazing and marvelous and-

"Why won't death take you, Alexiel? Because you're an angel?" He looked at her curiously. For all he was involved with angels, with demons, he didn't know much as much as felt things.

Alexiel nodded. "If you could revert it, would you?" she asked sincerely. Noticing he was distracted, she smiled inwardly. Flying was a small pleasure for those with the ability. She rustled her wings high, allowing her feathers rain on them. They vanished when they brushed any surface as they were dangerous to remain solid at anyone's reach.

"No, angels can die. But their souls remain without bodies unless others are built or are chosen to reincarnation which is rare. However, my body cannot be destroyed. It is always regenerating, like those lilies below."

The boy's eyes widened, watching a feather's path to the ground with rapt attention, not answering until it had vanished against a flower.

"... I don't know." He answered her question honestly. And he didn't, he couldn't imagine how he would feel if anyone he cared about died. At the mention of her reincarnations, lives, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Do you get tired of it?"

"It's difficult to be on someone's shoes, is it?" Alexiel inquired. "If it's hard to know what you will do, imagine to decide what others would in all the situations possible."

She lingered a minute more over the lilies before leaving toward the lake. It was beautiful and peaceful. The water reflected their images as a mirror.

"Yes, I did. But no longer. You know why?"

Adam was finding this entire flight thing... exhilerating. It was only the serious subjects they were debating, normally considered far too serious for a boy not yet in his teens,that kept him from whooping aloud at the wind in his hair, in that he was flying.

"... Why?" He finally asked, each one of the angel's words weighed carefully and filed away.

"Because in the past my lives and deaths were dictated and written," Alexiel explained, descending to the lake surface, near the shore. She held him just above the liquid, false giving the impression they were walking over it. "There was someone, namely God, who thought He could fix us and make us do things to His way because He had the power over Fate. Something we couldn't change."

The angel looked sad. "That was more miserable than anything in this world. You are a good boy, Adam, unlike Him. Don't change the world just because you are unhappy with it."

Adam looked down, watched their reflections passing across the water, lulled by the image.

"... I'm not supposed to be good though, am I, Alexiel?" It was not the first time he had questioned the merit of his existance, the purpose. He was the son of Satan, wasn't he? The son of the Devil, the great Dragon...

"Lucifer..." His face scrunched a bit in concentration. "He said I could come visit. ... He's... my dad from your world, right?"

"And God was supposed to be loving, Adam but He wasn't in our world. He was heartless and saw us all as His experiments," Alexiel commented, brushing his hair again. "I was supposed to be his beautiful, hollow daughter, but I rebelled against that. Lucifer was supposed to be the epitome of evil and despair, but he stopped following that gloomy path. You are what you choose to be, a creature with complexities, not a predestined puppet."

She nodded. "He is. I could take you there." With a gentle pull, Alexiel brought Adam closer to take off and flew toward the Firehouse.

"... Free will is complicated." Adam huffed, frowning. But he wasn't mad really, just... torn. But for now... the need to change things had subsided, quieted, under control. ... Though he still thought maybe, just maybe, he could prove something to the man who doubted him. ... Just a little thing, to show off only a little.

"... Thanks, Alexiel." The boy who was called Anti-Christ turned and smiled.

Maybe he could wait to fix things a little longer.

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