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[chancellorofheaven]

Dynamic Duo

@illusivexemissary

“Y’know.” Metatron began, swirling the water in his glass. Alcohol had long since lost its appeal. “It is an act of God that I don’t have a headache right now. And I’m completely aware of the irony of that statement, considering He’s the reason I’d be having one.”

He sighed with a weariness he felt in his bones. He used to read about that feeling, in his countless books. Now, he was damn tired of feeling it. And feeling dirty. Tired. The whole bathroom thing was just... Degrading. He pursed his lips.

“For all my ranting and raving about humanity being chaotic and a waste of energy...” He shook his head. “I mean, I get it now. I objectively got it before. Kinda didn’t care. But first-hand knowledge? Phew!“

He turned on his stool to face his lone audience member.

“And to hear Him - Him! - bitch and gripe about how we all disappointed Him! As if He didn’t disappoint us! Puh! And we! We have to die - everything has to die - because He can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel anymore? I --”

He trailed off his rant with an almost manic laugh. He still couldn’t believe some of the things he’d heard come out of God’s mouth. He understood existential crises. He’d had a few of his own. ...Most more recently. But how could THE Good Guy even consider Himself as such when He was willing to let everything be swept away because He was disappointed?

There was wrath, and then there was idiocy! That was idiocy!

“I’m just glad He managed to pull His head out of his ass. ...And He really does have good writing, when He puts His mind to it.”

He frowned at his canine companion.

“Guess we get one more shot at it, Toto. If that even is your real name.”

He grinned crookedly at his joke. Being human, he’d discovered it was the small things in life that could bring someone joy. Even something as corny as a joke about a dog whose name he didn’t know.

He’d found the scrappy fellow a few days ago. He’d been a persistent little thing, refusing to leave him alone. And he, like God, had been lonely. No name on his collar. Guess that meant he was up for grabs! ...Dumpster diving for two was more difficult than he’d thought it be, though. The faint hunger pains still in his stomach reminded him of that.

He wondered if God had left a fridge somewhere...

[chancellorofheaven]

we forgive you metatron | 11x20

[chancellorofheaven]

Like father, like son.

[chancellorofheaven]

Metatron: Why?

Chuck: Can you be more specific? I kind of get that question a lot.

[chancellorofheaven]

He’s not nearly as surprised as he should be to find himself ensnared in Gabriel’s grasp. Especially not from behind. It’s not the first time the Trickster has used such a move, and it probably won’t be his last. Predictably unpredictable Gabriel.

Metatron groans and rolls his eyes in exagerated annoyance, not even bothering to move the Tablet in his hand away from the Archangel’s grabby hands.

“Ugh. Yes. Humanity. How could I forget? What with the sleeping, and the eating, and the lactose intolerence. Y’know, if I’d cared more about outward appearences back when I abandoned Heaven - as I do now - I would’ve picked a better looking Vessel! Do-- Do you know how hard it is for anybody to take me seriously looking like this? And without the power to back up my threats! There are very few things I regret, but Marv here is one of ‘em.”

Not his hand in the Garden. Not his hand in the Fall of all angels. Not even letting little, ignorant, sickenly endearing, puppy dog Castiel take his Grace back. No, it’s allowing himself to be stuck in a failing body that just begs to be punched in the face that he truly scolds himself over.

Tablet still loosely held in hand, Metatron finally decides to address Gabriel’s comments in a more direct manner, without his grating comedy.

“And what if I want you to take the Tablet, Gabriel?” He asks. “What if I want it to burn in the back of your mind, as the Darkness consumes soul, after soul, after innocent human soul, that you have the ability to set your brothers free and do some good for a change...but that you won’t. Or, maybe, you will free them. Risk setting free whatever the Cage has shaped them into being because Order, in the end, is what’s needed for this Universe to function.”

Metatron waves the Tablet lazily.

“Who are you in this tale, Gabriel? Isildur, Frodo...or Samwise?”

"Are we having fun yet?" Metatron asks, the shit-eating grin on his face giving away HIS feelings about the ol' Darkness' release. There is no bigger force of chaos than the very inspiration for the word. The grin fades as he feigns a nonchalant glance at the Demon Tablet in his hand. "Too bad Michael and Lucifer are indisposed at the moment," he flicks a knowing look towards Gabriel, "isn't it?"

 Gabriel turns slowly, but when he does, the expressionon his face is one somewhere between genuine amusementand malice.Metatron expects to bait him; Metatron thrives on the chemicalreactions in the psyches of his victims.  Gabriel, when he is reallyon his game, is almost entirely immune to such needling. It’s why the two have worked well in the past, ALARMINGLY well,together.              “Yo diggity yo, Meta-narrative.  Look, I won’t pretend fer a second              that I don’t admire you. You’ve known that for eons.”  

Short, startlingly strong arms wrap around the Scribeof God from behind; the projected form of the Archangel before his eyes dissipates.              “But,” and the way he breathes in words scented of butterscotch            in the ear of his fellow Angel is almost erotic, for there are two here            who relish chaos, “it’s time to call it quits.  There’s fun, an’ then             there’s nihilistic insanity. You dig me? It’s an opportune moment            to remind you that you are at present only human, an’ the only            thing keeping me from squashing you is my tendency to indulge            interesting insects. Mkay?  You cannot talk the Archangel of Bullshit            into letting Butch an’ Sundance outta their cell if I can just            take this,” and he grabs at the tablet, “right now.” 

[chancellorofheaven]

Metatron smiled, swallowing the food in his mouth. He always had liked giving away too many hints. Some people got them, some people didn’t, and he wasn’t entire sure which end result he liked the most. But it was fun.

He shrugged and made a noncommital sound, “I’m not necessarily running for my life at the moment, no. But I do have a few unsavory characters trailing me because I have something they want. They won’t find me, of course. I’ve triple-checked my course, sprinkled way too many false breadcrumbs...”

He grinned, “No, tonight I am merely enjoying pancakes as a midnight snack. And I gotta say: These are some phenomenal pancakes. You should try some.”

+7

Sammy laughed at the description of the Sam he knew. “Well, that’s not me. I’m small, short hair, haven’t worked out a day in my life.” She described herself with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you Marv. What do you mean running for your life?” She asked, “Is that why you’re here so early? Not just enjoying pancakes as a midnight snack?”

[chancellorofheaven]

(If anyone’s wondering where I’ve been: Work, for one thing. For another, I’ve started writing a bit more on my fic Tearing Up the Script. [Which is Sabriel, by the way.] So, replies and activity are running a tad low compared to how often I usually check. Consider this blog on semi-hiatus.)

[chancellorofheaven]

Metatron keyed in on the time frame the girl gave him. The way she’d phrased it... He was suspicious, but he let it slide. Instead, he continued to eat his meal cheerfully.

“Sam?” Metatron questioned, brows raising. “I know a Sam. Tall fella. Long hair. Big muscles. One of them fitness freaks, y’know? Oh, don’t get me wrong! Nothing wrong with that. I’ve just... Well, look at me. Running for any reason other than for my life is not on my to-do list.“

Seriously, thinking about getting up at the crack of dawn to run? For fun! No, thank you. ...Getting up before the crack of dawn to eat heavenly pancakes smothered in every flavor of syrup that he hadn’t tried yet? Much better scenario.

“As for my name?” Metatron grinned cheekily. “Call me ‘Marv.’“

+7

Sammy laughed when he said their was no such thing as too early for pancakes. He kinda reminded her of Jack when he said that. Someone reminding you of someone else… That was a very odd thing. If someone could have nothing a like with someone, and they could still remind you of someone else, with nothing other than saying something.

She listened to what he had asked before thinking of how to answer it. “It really is a shame. I mean, I’ve only been around for a couple of years, but I notice people do that.” She agreed, before actually answering it, “I guess I do. I mean, talking to people is one of my favorite ways to pass time. Please are so nice.” She told him, “I’m Sam, but I really only let one person call me that, so call me Sammy. And you are?”

[chancellorofheaven]

(When you hit reblog instead of save draft.)

[chancellorofheaven]

“I will have you know...” Metatron began, pouring even more syrup on his pancakes. He made sure not to have any dairy on this batch. He’d learned his lesson, thank you. “There is no such thing as too early for pancakes.”

He cut a large portion from the stack and popped it into his mouth. He used to eat sweets all the time while an angel. Something about sugars, the bright colors in the dyes. They’d attracted him. But as a human? Oh-ho! Sweets were heavenly. ...Too bad Marv was lactose intolerant. He really shoulda thought about allergies before deciding to put his plan into action. Oh, well. No use crying over spilt milk he couldn’t have.

“Out of simple curiosity, do you make a habit of addressing strangers in cordial conversation? Again: I’m not judging. It’s just...I find most refrain from social interactions with people they don’t know.” He swallowed his bite. “A shame, really. Who knows who you could meet?”

+7

Sammy yawned as she replied to tweets on her phone. She was in some IHop, since they had free wifi and she, stupidly, spent more money on new videos games than she was suppose to and couldn’t pay for her hotel. Luckily, she got paid in… six hours. It was probably four in the morning. She noticed someone sitting at a table near by, and she set her phone down, “Isn’t it a little early for pancakes?” She said, trying to start a conversation.

[chancellorofheaven]

Unforeseen Circumstances

notwrath

So Castiel had his Grace back. Big deal? Metatron wasn't worried. After all, he'd intended to give it back. Why else would he have handed the ailing seraph the clue to his old juice? Honestly, Metatron was just surprised it'd taken so long for Castiel to figure out that he was using quotes! Metatron had given Castiel the gift of all the literature, the media, that he'd ever consumed while on Earth. It should've clicked immediately! Then again, Castiel had a bad habit of doing everything wrong when it came to plans he was supposed to follow.

Luckily, Metatron took that into account.

Yes, he'd need Grace, before the end. But he had time.

Metatron had taken a page from Castiel's playbook. He sat on the bench at a bus stop, waiting for the ridiculously slow vehicle to pull up so that he could carry on his journey. (Amazing how his once never-ending fountain of patience had stopped flowing when he'd become human.) The Demon Tablet rested snuggly in the cheap satchel hanging off his shoulder.

He didn't need it for its information. He'd written it, after all. No, it wasn't unlike the Angel Tablet. In the right hands, it could produce magic of its own. That was his goal. For now.

He frowned down at the injury he'd sustained from the younger Winchester, barely able to resist the urge to rub it. The injury Castiel had only made worse by pressing his stupid fingers into it.

Being human sucked! Okay, no. Being human was a very interesting experience, and he was truly intrigued by the complexity of it. But pain? Way more painful than he was used to! Because he couldn't heal. Not immediately. He was stuck with a bullet hole - shoddily stitched up - and the constant paranoia that it'd get infected. That was the last thing he needed.

[chancellorofheaven]

“I don’t know why everyone thinks I have it out for humanity. Honestly! All I’ve ever done is try to give them what they want. Sure, some of them died, but... Are my stats any worse than yours? Castiel’s? Or God’s? Hey, He planned the Apocalypse, not me! I’ve been...an angel - if you’ll pardon the pun - compared to some.”

“Oh, lemme guess. ‘When you’re good, you’re very good, but when you’re bad, you’re better’? To which I respond with another well-known quote, ya ready? ‘People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered. Love them anyway.’ Yo, that’s my M.O. If you wanna do Dad a quality job of representing the Messenger,  you gotta abide by that principle.”  

[chancellorofheaven]

Metatron hummed in agreement. It would be a shame.

He reached beneath his desk and pulled out a blank slab of rock. He could’ve conjured some papyrus, or paper, but he did like being dramatic, and carving something in stone always made what was written seem more important than it truly was. Placing the stone beside the Tablet he was working on, Metatron used his Grace to burn and carve a little ‘cheat sheet’ about the biology and nature of honey bees in Enochian.

Only for God’s Word did he use the more secretative language. The one normal angels wouldn’t be able to understand. Especially not with the way he’d coded the damn things. All part of the Plan.

“Bees aren’t bad,” Metatron began. He pushed the completed stone towards Gabriel. “Most of them are diligent little workers, doing everything in their power to make sure their queen is protected and well-fed. And, as long as there’s unhatched young within the hive, they typically won’t abandon it. For any reason. Not even when the queen dies.”

Metatron smiled, “They’ll just raise a new one.”

How fitting that your little fledgling is attracted to these insects, Gabriel. They’re not unlike us.

Metatron thought about warning him that bees could see ultra-violet light, including that which angels gave off, but... Well, he had just given the Archangel that information in writing. Wasn’t his fault if it wasn’t read.

Comedy

[chancellorofheaven]

“Wha-! I have always done good work! Why do you think He hired me as His secretary? ...Unless, of course, you mean morally good work. Then, I’d have to say, ‘There is nothing good or bad, but thinking makes it so.’“

“The ones that mattered did. C’mon, short pale an’ curly, you gotta appeal to my good side before ya taunt me so transparently. Or are we in ‘shake the nitroglycerine up for the hell of it’ mode right now? Any to the hoo … charlatanism fer self protection? Not the same as charlatanism for the sake of screwin’ with people. HEH, not that I entirely MIND the latter. Just give my name a good rep, got me?”  

[chancellorofheaven]

l i v s n j u t a r e – (n.): someone who loves life deeply and lives it to the extreme; lit. “enjoyer of life.”

********************************************* INDIE SPN GABRIEL RP BLOG 

“No one                     makes                                     us                                            do anything.”  

[chancellorofheaven]

“Gabriel! You don’t trust me with your good name? ...No, but seriously, I only ever did good things while pretending to be you. I mean, if I wanna stay incognito and on everybody’s good side, I might not want to make too big of a fuss. Have you heard of Gabriel doing anything remotely evil in canon? No? You’re welcome.”

“The ones that mattered did. C’mon, short pale an’ curly, you gotta appeal to my good side before ya taunt me so transparently. Or are we in ‘shake the nitroglycerine up for the hell of it’ mode right now? Any to the hoo … charlatanism fer self protection? Not the same as charlatanism for the sake of screwin’ with people. HEH, not that I entirely MIND the latter. Just give my name a good rep, got me?”  

[chancellorofheaven]

“Oh, please. Like you didn’t go running around pretending to be someone you’re not! Something. ‘Pagan’? I mean, personally, I find the lesser gods to be, mm, interesting. ...But they didn’t share the same sentiment towards you, did they?”

illusivexemissary replied to your post “Headcanon 5: Metatron has had many Vessels in his past, the first of…”

EXCUSE.

I think writing down God’s Word for the express purpose of passing it down to humans counts as being a messenger, too, don’t you, Gabriel~?