Roleplaying
2004 Archive
2005 Archive
Seminars
| When: | 25 May 2005 |
| Who: | Damien, Marc (NPCed) |
| What: | Marc corrects Damien's link with his Heart and gives him a few instructions as a Tradesperson. |
Marc's Tower
A revelation of light cast in alabaster marble and reflective aquamarine glass, Marc's Tower stands at the end of the Bazaar. Inside the well-tended walls, servitors toil in offices, happy in their secure positions as they seek to apply honestly earned wages to Heavenly enterprises on Earth. The easily-navigable halls eventually spiral up to the receptionist's area on the lavishly appointed top floor. Herein lies Marc's office, its spaciousness tended to by Estinore, a Seraph appointment keeper who says what she means, and means what she says.
Marc is seated at his large desk in his office. The office doors are both open wide at the moment, perhaps as Trade is waiting for a... tricky appointment to arrive and does not want Estinore to chase them off. A pile of file folders are located at his left elbow, while a second pile is slowly growing in height at the upper right corner of the desk. Marc's gold-toned pen flashes as he flips through the folders and makes a few notes in each before continuing to the next.
Damien took the War Tether, as offered by Tyrr and the servitors of Michael, to make his appointment. He came alone, and didn't need directions although this is his first time in MArc's Tower. He's still very much left over from Shal Mari, with the smell of Shal Mari cigarettes still clinging a bit to his clothes and hair. Hell took its toll on him, leaving a youthful Damiel looking older and grayer and more tired. He is a few minutes late, mostly just from getting a little lost, and the secretary, Estinore, allows him into Marc's office. He stands in the entrance for a moment, before he reaches up to pull off his tophat and sunglasses and bows. "Your Lordship. Thank you for making the time to see me."
"Ah, Damiel, right on time," Marc replies as he puts his off to one side. "We do have a few loose ends to tie up before you can continue on your renewed path." He nods towards the door, both at his secretary who closes the doors, and at something within the office but off to the side of the egress.
Damiel takes a very long look at the Heart standing on the table off to the side, and as much as he wants to approach it and stare at it, he does not. Instead he approaches Marc's desk and nods to a chair before the great desk. "Yes, your Lordship. A few small details. May I take a seat?"
"Of course," Trade answers and gets up from his desk, heading towards the table holding the Heart. "Do you recognize it?" Marc asks, picking up the crystalline object.
Damiel takes a seat. He slides his sunglasses into an inner pocket on his frock coat, and balances his top hat on his knee. Then he turns a bit to watch Trade walk across the office. He says quietly, "Of course, your Lordship. It has been a very long time since I have seen it..." Damiel pauses and searches for a good word. "... free."
"Not so long in the grand scheme of things, but long enough," Marc agrees as he carries the Heart back towards the desk. "This is the largest loose end to weave back in - restoring your Heart to its proper place in the Symphony and reorienting your connection to it. Unless you'd rather return to Shal-Mari, that is."
Damiel examines the hat balanced on his knee and the Queen of Hearts stuffed into the hat band for a moment mostly to disguise a combination of severe nervousness and no small amount of embarrassment. He takes a deep breath, looks up, and musters a small smile for Trade and says, "No, sir. I absolutely do not want to return to Shal-Mari."
The archangel narrows his eyes at Damiel's form, seemingly looking *into* him but not in an anatomical fashion. "From what I've heard, Creation has already put you through the more painful process of Redemption. How is Eli, anyhow?" The tone of Marc's voice is one of distraction, as if conversation isn't at the forefront of his thoughts. Lifting the Mercurian's Heart, Trade shifts his gaze to it and finds the same connection within its crystal form. With a nod of his head, he restores the proper connection between Damiel, his Heart, and the Symphony to what it should be.
Damiel opens his mouth to make some comment about Eli and lets out a gasp when the connection between himself and his Heart is reestablished. He nearly drops his hat. It takes a moment of blinking and the surprise to pass. There's a moment of struggle to not look like anything like the most composed and professional being in the universe. Damiel does have a nature, unfortunately, and it's a little bit of a nerd with all that entails. But it passes, and once it does, and Damiel regains his composure, he says, "Your Lordship, Eli is fragmented. I personally saw two of the fragments in one place. He, uh, he gave me an exploding hot dog."
Marc offers the Heart to the younger Mercurian, ignoring the moment of disarray as if it never happened. He's probably seen it enough times to know to refrain from mentioning anything. "Fragmented, you say?" he replies, an eyebrow arching slightly at this tidbit of information. He moves back behind his desk and reclaims his seat. "Interesting. As for assignments, finding out more about Eli's status should be sufficient for the moment. According to my file on Austin, you can report either to a Michaelite by the name of 'Tyrr' or a 'Remliel', a Destinite. My other Tradespeople are on other assignments and getting in contact with them may or may not be easy."
Damiel reaches out for his Heart and takes it in his hands, as if he has no real idea what it is or what it does but it's so nice to have it. He wrenches his mind away from his Heart and says, "Yes, sir. I'll see what I can find out." He heistates, and then asks the question that has been plaguing him. "What about my Role? I obviously can't go back to the same job I had before. I believe 'fired' is the term for it. I've sold my apartment in Manhatten. Should I start applying for new positions?"
"You can add creating a new Role to your list of duties as well. Did... Arnon, I believe it was, have any suggestions in regards to Roles? Perhaps a stockbroker or accountant. I would not suggest something that puts you at the forefront during this transition period. You do not know who could be looking for you, and I am not referring to my other employees," Marc says with a few finger taps on his blotter. "You can also select a location in the Tower to place your Heart."
"I have a human friend from Harvard, from grad school, who is currently a research scientist at the LBJ School of Public Affairs at University of Texas. He's working on the 21st Century Project, but there were research scientist openings on some of the other projects. It would mean some small amount of teaching grad students at least, but it's pretty low key," Damiel says. "It has been a very long time since I taught, and research would be new, but it would keep me out of the way. If you approve, your Lordship." Damiel looks down at his Heart and says, "Thank you, sir. Thank you so very much."
Trade nods, saying, "That sounds suitable. Estinore will provide you with a cubicle location and the paperwork to indicate your upcoming Role. Submit the information when the forms are complete. And don't thank me yet, Damiel. You have chosen to walk a difficult path and I cannot be there to help you at all times."
"This path started a very long time ago," Damiel says quietly, "Long before Hell and Shal-Mari. I have no idea where it will end, but, your Lordship, I suspect I'm still somewhere at the beginning. I thank you profusely for your patience and your time."
"As long as it is used efficiently, I do not mind having my time not entirely my own. If there is nothing else, Estinore should have your information for you," Marc responds.
Damiel actually thinks about this, as if he will never have a chance to talk to Trade ever again, and this is his last chance in eternity. He obviously has a million things on his mind, wanting to talk about politics and commerce and economics with the soul of Trade and generally just go geek out like crazy, but no. He says, standing and holding on to his top hat with one hand and his Heart with the other, "Nothing else, your Lordship. I will go work with your secretary."
"Nothing else, Damiel," Marc says as he turns his attention back to his files. "Have a good day and don't hestitate to ask for help from your fellow Tradespeople if you need it."
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