Open | Clever title goes here

[quis_ut_deus]

Who: Michael and you there, the one reading this right now.
Where: Various locations around Wonderland.
When: Throughout Nov 17th/18th
Rating: PG or PG-13 for now.
Summary: Open log for any characters looking to meet an archangel. Michael will be wandering both the mansion and the grounds, so feel free to pick a public spot. (Prose to begin, but switching to action is fine too; same for past/present tense.)
The Story:

Vacations aren't a concept Michael is very familiar with, never having had one before, but he can't think of a word that more accurately describes the situation he now finds himself in. There had never been downtime in Heaven. There had always been something that needed his attention, some seraph seeking his direction, some doubting lesser angel to be dealt with. Free time was as foreign a concept as free will.

Here in Wonderland, he has nothing but free time. The angels here are either from another world entirely and thus not his problem, or no longer a part of the Host, and thus only his problem when they get in his way. The role he's most accustomed to, that of the General of Heaven, isn't one he can fall into here.

Idling has never suited Michael. He'd been made to take orders, to give them and to carry them out, not to sit around on his wings and wait. Exploring Wonderland is something he'd done on arrival, but he'd done so discreetly. He's more conspicuous this time, appearing around the mansion and the grounds in that unnerving fashion so common to the angels: out of thin air, with little regard for personal space, and with nothing but the sound of unseen wings to announce his sudden presence.

Comments

[no_eels]

That whole painting debacle was fun, but it's over now and Toothless is dealing with the aftermath. Namely, paint. Everywhere. He's decided to use the fish pond to get most of it off — it's finger paint, and theoretically easy to get off. But he can't quite reach certain areas, which means he's still splattered in odd patterns.

Far from the most ferocious-looking dragon in Wonderland. The bitty dragon is more intimidating, at present.

He's using a wing to try and scrub his side when he catches Michael's... odd scent. Toothless glances toward his approach, eyes widening slightly and ears perking forward with interest. He smells like a Wingless Viking, and the Night Fury likes those.

[quis_ut_deus]

There's not as much of it out there as he'd like, but Michael prefers the grounds to the inside of the mansion. Confined spaces don't sit well with flighted creatures and the mansion is an even tighter space to be stuck in than Wonderland itself.

It's a relief to be outdoors, invisible wings stretching out and enjoying the freedom, but it doesn't take him long to notice the company he has.

Michael recognizes a dragon when he sees one. They're dangerous - to humans. There's little that even a monster as resilient as a dragon can do to an angel. They're aggressive, though, and don't often come out in daylight. They also tend to stick to human forms unless they're hunting.

This one is clearly not the sort of dragon he's familiar with.

He extends a hand towards Toothless, testing the creature's curiosity and giving it the option of approaching if it so chooses.

[no_eels]

Toothless gets a patch of green and white scrubbed off, at least, eyes narrowing again in concentration, and makes a noise of frustration. This would be so much easier if he had thumbs. And was less long. Maybe he should find a spring to fall into, next time he decides to paint. A spring might be better.

Not for the hot spring, of course, which would be like a rainbow when he left it...

When Michael holds out a hand, the Night Fury cocks his head and sniffs at the air. Hm... yes. Definitely not an ordinary Viking. He abandons his cleaning to take a few careful steps closer to Michael and sniff at his palm, rumbling deeply in the back of his throat.

[quis_ut_deus]

Conveniently, Michael has thumbs. He also has the power to clean up the whole mess with a snap of his fingers, but it tends to alarm even those sapient creatures he's able to explain it to in words. Animals, even the clever ones, tend to panic around sudden and inexplicable changes.

He curls his fingers and gives Toothless' chin a little scratch. There's still plenty of room for him to retreat if he decides he'd rather not be felt up by a strange angel.

"You're a curious creature. I didn't realize Wonderland was home to any dragons."

Seeking to get a better look at the creature - it's somewhat larger than the dragons Michael knows, too - Michael leans to the side and makes a mental note of how much paint still covers it. He hadn't thought dragons were the artistic type, either.

[no_eels]

Anyone who can scratch chins is okay in Toothless' book. The Night Fury gives a little trill in the back of his throat, a trill that will become a purr if any more attention is offered. But he holds still while he's inspected, looking at Michael with large and visibly curious eyes. Moderately still — he nods at the statement. There are just the two dragons in Wonderland, at the moment, but there are two all the same.

Amazingly, his leather harness and artificial tail fin is in much better shape than the rest of him. It was a good thing that the closets gave him finger paint, and nothing more permanent. He's twenty feet long, in total, his wingspan somewhere around forty, and he cuts a sleek figure. It unnerves most Vikings, certainly, upon first meeting, when he isn't gallivanting in paint. Said paint mostly clings to problematic areas like joints, edges of scales, and the back of his head.