Michael (
quis_ut_deus) wrote in
entrancelogs2014-10-12 03:24 am
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Open
Who: Michael and open!
Where: The grounds.
When: Sunday, aka the last day of the Spontaneous and Embarrassing Singing event.
Rating: PG, to be updated as needed.
Summary: Being a member of the Heavenly Choir doesn't necessarily make one eager to sing their heart out anywhere and everywhere; but, being in Wonderland, one doesn't often get a choice in the matter.
The Story:
It's hard to ignore that there's an event on with people breaking into song left and right, but Michael tries his hardest to do exactly that. The ubiquitous plaques demanding honesty are easy enough to dismiss - they are, at least, quiet - but the archangel isn't willing to risk being dragged into someone else's musical number. Heaven holds many secrets. He avoids the mansion, spending the weekend in his preferred spots on the grounds.
No matter how effectively he avoids the others, though, he can't hide from his own in-built inclination for song. Eventually, he cracks:
Michael blinks back surprise. Compared to his true voice, John's own is lacking - if not exactly unpleasant. If he's fortunate, no one will have been in earshot to comment on it.
[[OOC: for your listening pleasure.]]
Where: The grounds.
When: Sunday, aka the last day of the Spontaneous and Embarrassing Singing event.
Rating: PG, to be updated as needed.
Summary: Being a member of the Heavenly Choir doesn't necessarily make one eager to sing their heart out anywhere and everywhere; but, being in Wonderland, one doesn't often get a choice in the matter.
The Story:
It's hard to ignore that there's an event on with people breaking into song left and right, but Michael tries his hardest to do exactly that. The ubiquitous plaques demanding honesty are easy enough to dismiss - they are, at least, quiet - but the archangel isn't willing to risk being dragged into someone else's musical number. Heaven holds many secrets. He avoids the mansion, spending the weekend in his preferred spots on the grounds.
No matter how effectively he avoids the others, though, he can't hide from his own in-built inclination for song. Eventually, he cracks:
There, out in the darkness
A fugitive running
Fallen from god
Fallen from grace
God be my witness
I never shall yield
Till we come face to face
Till we come face to face
He knows his way in the dark
Mine is the way of the Lord
Those who follow the path of the righteous
Shall have their reward
And if they fall
As Lucifer fell
The flames
The sword!
A fugitive running
Fallen from god
Fallen from grace
God be my witness
I never shall yield
Till we come face to face
Till we come face to face
He knows his way in the dark
Mine is the way of the Lord
Those who follow the path of the righteous
Shall have their reward
And if they fall
As Lucifer fell
The flames
The sword!
Michael blinks back surprise. Compared to his true voice, John's own is lacking - if not exactly unpleasant. If he's fortunate, no one will have been in earshot to comment on it.
[[OOC: for your listening pleasure.]]
no subject
He isn't present when Michael starts, having chosen to keep as far away from others in Wonderland the minute he realised what was going on. Lucifer would deny keeping secrets from others, but still would not prefer to share what he would rather keep to himself.
Despite himself, when he hears a voice singing that he has not heard since he left heaven, he goes looking for the singer. He remains hidden as Michael sings, enjoying the singer, though not the song.]
The sword, Michael? Really?
no subject
However convincing or emotional he'd managed to make the words sound, his expression holds only the usual contempt when he faces the other archangel.]
Were you expecting an olive branch?
[While he's never thought of Lucifer as outright stupid, he may have to employ that word and several of its synonyms if his brother thought he'd be willing to put aside their Father's orders.]
no subject
It angers him that Michael can show such devotion to a Father who has abandoned them, and who would have done what he did to Lucifer in the first place. Their Father did not deserve that loyalty.
But when he opens his mouth to object, to use his words to paint the world in a certain way (as he was best at), the words do not come. Instead, in a wavering voice he sings.]
Out in the garden where we planted the seeds
There is a tree as old as me
Branches were sewn by the color of green
Ground had arose and passed its knees
By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top.
I climbed the tree to see the world,
When the gusts came around to blow me down I
Held on as tightly as you held onto me
Held on as tightly as you held onto me-
And I built a home, for you, for me--
Until it disappeared,
from me
from you--
[He closes his mouth with a snap, staring at Michael. This is the fist time Wonderland has taken control of his will in such a way, and he does not like it. Even more does he dislike the contents of the song. His feelings for Michael are his own, whatever they are. His Father had taught him that affection was not permanent, and Michael had reinforced that when he had cast him down, then Caged him. Lucifer was no fool.
And deep down, barely concealed, Lucifer burns with
shameanger that Michael should have to hear his vessel's voice; imperfect and wavering as all human voices are. His true voice had been so much more beautiful, once.]no subject
Song is less direct than Michael cares for, and it takes him a moment of standing and tense wing-twitching to process the lyrics. He's almost suprised he doesn't break out into song again himself when he speaks, glad that his voice remains firm:]
That was a long time ago. If you're feeling nostalgic for times past, remind yourself that it was your own actions that brought an end to them.
[It's more than Lucifer's voice that had been beautiful, once, but hearing Nick's voice raised in song, wavering and imperfect as Lucifer's had never been, drives home how much of his brother has been lost.]
no subject
Would you rather I forgot it all? Have you?
I'll take that as my cue to initiate a duet.
So yes, he remembers, and it seems to him this isn't the first time Lucifer has demanded to know if he does. Maybe it's because he refuses to leave it at that, a simple I remember. He lacks Lucifer's talent for twisting his words but he makes up for it with his ability to throw up walls: I remember, but it's no longer relevant; I remember, but our Father's orders trump nostalgia.
Maybe Wonderland finds something dishonest about that variety of answer, because instead of the carefully-worded roadblock he'd intended, he lifts his voice in song again:]
You're the night to my day
And the left to my right
The blood to my veins
And the dark to my light
The stop to my start
And the constant beat to my heart
/o/
He considers simply leaving. It would take a thought, and he could spare Michael the drudgery of parroting their Father's orders at him once more. How many times will his brother use that excuse in the cage, while they pass eternity trapped in that hole? Ten thousand times? Ten million?
Or will Father pluck Michael out, and reward his faithful sonship? Even as Michael opens his mouth to reply, Lucifer is certain that will never happ-
It takes a moment to register the words his brother sings. Even when he does understand them, it takes a moment more before the shock sets in. He cannot be hearing what Michael is singing.
And in spite of his surprise, and despite his horror at having Michael hear again the voice of his vessel raised in imperfect song, when Michael stops Lucifer answers-]
The sun to my moon
And the stars in my sky
The hot to my cold
And the black to my white
The rain to my thunderclouds
And the truth in my lies
no subject
So tell me what you want to see
Cos everything I want to be
Is there in your reflection shining up right back at me
So let me, in perfect symmetry
Be my everything
If you just let me in perfect symmetry
Only you can make me feel complete
[Michael is thoroughly horrified with himself and his apparent inability to stop singing. He had thought, above all his virtues, self-control was his foremost. To be robbed of that disturbs him in a way that little else ever has.
He considers what he could do to regain control. If it's truly honesty that Wonderland wants, being in Lucifer's presence will do him no good. As many angry words as they have exchanged and continue to exchange, there is just as much that's gone unsaid. Flying off, then, seems the only option - and one Michael refuses to take. He lacks the second half of the fight or flight response, and is far too proud to run besides that.]
no subject
As he echoes his brother's words, he walks closer.]
In perfect symmetry
Be my everything
If you just let me in perfect symmetry
Only you can make me feel complete
[They used to do this often, Before. Singing together, or simply for the pleasure of of the other. He is ready to defend himself, should his brother decide that violence is the only solution now.]
no subject
He could snap them away, he thinks. Would that actually stop the singing, or would Wonderland simply compel him to use his true voice instead?
It's not something he's sure he wants to risk. Hearing their vessels' voices is reminder enough of what they once shared. To hear it from his own voice would be a distraction from what he remembers even more clearly than that: Lucifer turning his back on their family. Fortunately, it's a gamble he doesn't have to take. He finds that, for the moment, he's free to use John's voice as he pleases again.]
Are you satisfied yet?
[The confusion is gone from both his tone and his expression, replaced with irritation.]
no subject
He remembers now. He remembers a time when there had been no need for deception, and he and his brother had seen each other as they truly were, and spoken their thoughts without fear of rejection or rebuke.
How naive they had been.
The anger that has smouldered in Lucifer since he was cast down is stoked a little more, thinking of how their Father has ruined this between them. Michael should never have been set against him. Can he be satisfied like this?]
Of course not.
[There are other words he might say, if he had not already learned that vulnerability was not a strength.]
no subject
It's at least a good thing that he doesn't have to sing anything from Les Miserables.
Music starts playing and while Crowley still has a modicum of a presence of mind, he realizes what he's about to say/sing. And for once, instead of trying to fight it, he just let's it go.
"Look inside
Look inside your tiny mind, and look a bit harder
Cause we're so uninspired, so sick and tired
Of all the hatred you harbor.
So you say, it's not okay to be damned
Well I think you're just evil
You're just some racist who can't tie my laces
Your point of view is medieval."
BOTH FINGERS UP.
"Fuck you!
Fuck you very very much!
Cause we hate what you do and we hate your whole crew
So please don't stay in touch.
Fuck you!
Fuck you very very much!
Cause your words don't translate
And it's getting quite late
So please don't stay in touch."
There is also dancing happening at this point.
"Do you get, do you get a little kick out of being slow-minded?
You want to be like your father, it's approval you're after
Well that's not how you find it.
Do you, do you really enjoy living a life that's so hateful?
Cause there's a hole where your soul should be
You're losing control of it and it's really distasteful."
Many more "fuck yous" follow and then the song reaches its bridge.
"You say you think we need to go to war
Well you're already in one
Cause it's people like you that need to get slew
No one wants your opinion."
Fuck yous continue ad nauseum until, thankfully, the song ends and Crowley sweeps into a bow with the last notes to hide the fact that he's throwing up in his mouth a little bit.
no subject
By the time the demon rises, he'll find that Michael has crossed those twenty yards at an inhuman pace to plant himself directly in front of Crowley. He snags the other by the collar, shoving him to the ground, and opens his mouth to make what was almost certainly going to be a threat.
(Arguably, the song he sings instead of speaking is just as threatening, given the source.)
Little skylark, lovely little skylark,
Little skylark, I'll pluck your feathers off.
I'll pluck the feathers off your head.
I'll pluck the feathers off your head.
Off your head, off your head!
Little lark, little lark!
O-o-o-oh
Little skylark, lovely little skylark,
Little skylark, I'll pluck your feathers off.
I'll pluck the feathers off your wings.
I'll pluck the feathers off your wings.
Off your wings, off your wings!
Off your head, off your head!
Little lark, little lark!
O-o-o-oh
no subject
Once he hits the ground he figures he's passed the point of no return. Michael's song is probably the freakiest thing he's seen since this one time he saw another demon possess a five year old and make her sing "Twinkle Twinkle" over and over.
Still, he's grinning like an ass through the whole thing.
"No feathers available for you, Michael. What are you so upset about? The signs all say honesty, after all."
no subject
But, he was never so lucky, and he wasn't going to be today. Something crunches underneath him, a leaf, a twig, Michael doesn't know, or care, but it signals to the other that he is there.
He'd done his best to keep away from everyone, not wanting to share anything he wouldn't normally divulge, and Michael had done an amazing job of keeping hidden. Until now. And he can feel it, bubbling up, and he knows what's coming next and he hates it.]
[And, he can't believe it, and he'd never admit to it later, but it's a medley of songs, all cut up and pasted together like an awful musical.]
In the fields the bodies burning
As the war machine keeps turning
Death and hatred to mankind
Poisoning their brainwashed minds... Oh Lord yeah.
Now in darkness, world stops turning
Ashes where the bodies burning..
[He takes a deep breath, his own out of key voice ringing in his ears, and the words keep coming.]
Oh I'm a guilty one,
And know what I have done.
Yeah, I'm a troubled one,
And I won't be forgiven.
Guilty on the run,
And I know what I have done.
Guilty on the run,
And I'm never forgiven.
Spent years singing, "no regret".
Then suddenly it all becomes clear,
I've been sorry all these years...
[The last part comes out softer, lower, and ashamed that he couldn't keep himself from singing.]
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Good God, let me give you my life.
[When he closes his mouth, he knows it's over, and he drops his head. His alternate was the last person he ever imagined singing in front of, or sharing anything personal with.]
[ooc: part one part two part three]
no subject
Instead, all he knows is that he's not only had an audience, but is being treated to a performance in turn.
There's something of a wince from him, a little twitch under one of his eyes. His alternate is about as much of a talented singer as the Winchesters are bringers of joy and comfort. When he opens his mouth to comment, though, it's not the words he'd planned that spill forth:]
Babe, there's something lonesome about you
Something so wholesome about you
Get closer to me
Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago
Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword
Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know
[Michael coughs. Whether he's managed to loosen Wonderland's hold on his vocal chords by sheer force of will or if it's willingly giving him a moment to express himself properly, he's not certain, but he chooses to believe it's the former.
His voice is harsh and distinctly unhappy when he finally manages to speak his mind.]
That is, come here. I have no desire to shout my opinion across a field and I doubt you do either.
[Admitting to a certain kinship with his alternate isn't what he intended, but what's done is done.]
[[OOC: source.]]
no subject
When he was closer, lips tightly sealed, and the pressure of his clenched jaw causing a small section of his cheek to twitch, he stopped, hands on hips.
Michael didn't speak at first, wary of that strange sensation to sing out secrets, and after enough awkward silence had passed, he opened his mouth again.]
I didn't want that. I'm sorry.
[He was referring to hearing his alternate sing, and doing the singing himself. Michael wasn't sure that he owed him that apology, but it hung, heavy, in the air anyways.]
no subject
[Not any passers-by, not his alternate, not Michael himself. Neither of their human envelopes possess particularly magnificent singing voices.
Being someone who isn't especially fond of apologies, Michael doesn't acknowledge his alternate's. All too often, they're used as excuses by those who shouldn't have been doing what they were doing in the first place. Sometimes they're warranted, but Michael much prefers when others simply avoid making mistakes in the first place.
There's a short pause as Michael evaluates whether or not he's firmly back in control of John's vocal cords. When he's sure that he is, he speaks.]
What is it that has you feeling guilty, then?
[If you're going to sing at him, you at least owe him an explanation.]
no subject
Everything.
[His voice was light, and he shrugged his shoulders.]
It'd be a smaller list if I were to tell you what I didn't feel guilty about.
[Michael turned away from the other archangel, trying to decide what he should say that would be explanation enough without over sharing.]
Gabriel. Father. The humans. Killing them and then not killing them. [It was complicated, to him, that no matter which way he looked at it, he knew he'd feel guilty for taking either side. He'd feel guilty for being the good son, as much as he did for being a bad one. The same applied to being either a good brother or a bad one.
Mostly, he felt guilty that he'd killed so many humans all those years ago, and he felt guilty now that he'd stopped. But, only minimally on that, as he believed he was doing the right thing. Though, he'd discovered, that doing what you believe is right didn't negate any guilt a person would feel for their actions.]