Picture the scene. Blandine and Laurence, all radiant
and happy, standing at the altar. True, Yves for
some reason declined to conduct the service, so they
got Israfel instead. Khalid's best man, Novalis is
matron of honor, all of the big shots of the Host are
there. Lots and lots of Malakim. Heck, even the
Tsadayim might have popped in. Needless to say, this
shindig's at the Halls of Worship: Catholic ceremony,
naturally, so everybody wearing a sword has got theirs
unbuckled and on the seat next to them*.
Beleth shows up, of course, at the most inopportune time. Possibly after the "if any one here" bit, but before the vows (although inserting her after Laurence's, but before Blandine's, would make MUCHO hassles latter. Dramatic silhouette, screaming of "BLANDINE!!!", diving through the stained glass window (without breaking it), the whole nine yards.
Of course, every Malakim reaches for his or her sword, curses, paws through the stuff in the pews, grabs any sword handy and flies on an intercept course. With all of Larry's swordies right behind them. The AA's are all jockeying for position, trying to line up a shot that won't incinerate a blackwing in the process, but the furball is already too intense.
There's a problem, though. A Malakim of Trade screams and winds up for a suicide stroke, but halfway through his face blanches and he drives his sword into the floor. That Seraph of the Sword over there grunts as if she had been punched in the stomach and then deliberately barrels into the two Cherubim of Fire lining up some cleansing flame. Every single Dominican capable of Heavenly Judgement is looking shocked and drained.
There's quite a scrum going on the sidelines, as Malakite and Mercurian resonance pings are followed by their pingers' inexplicable attempts to restrain their fellows. Even the AA's are starting to mill about, as their most favored Malakite Servitors frantically rush to them to whisper urgent words.
Beleth pushes through the mob of putative attackers as if they were made of mist. She collapses at Blandine's feet, weeping. Michael has already started running to the altar, with Dominic right behind them. Both look pale.
Now, Laurence is naturally incandescent with rage, but on the other hand, he's actually never gotten to slay a Demon Princess before. Going into a killing stance as his sword begins to smoke with all of the Word-attention put into it, his blade comes down...
... and, in the back of his mind, the resonance light comes on.
::: Scan complete. :::
::: Most honorable act committed during last week: :::
::: Redeeming.** :::
The sword stops a half inch from Beleth's exposed neck. Laurence is frozen with pure temptation, but he happens to be a practicing Roman Catholic, and the Church happens to have definite _issues_ about killing your fiancee's incovenient former lovers. Besides, as Michael (about the only one of the big brass who suspected that this might happen) will undoubtedly tell him, just as soon as he finishes running over there, there's now political considerations at work here. Laurence actually _throws_ _away_ the sword*** and says a nasty word. Needless to say, it echoes through the silent Halls like a gunshot.
Meanwhile, Blandine's sitting on the floor and crooning meaningless sounds as she strokes Beleth's hair. However, in about thirty seconds, Blandine's going to remember where she is, what she had planned for her day today, and that she isn't exactly able to turn off what she feels for the angel standing above her. At that point, she'll look up, and lock gazes with Laurence.
Morgan (FAW) Kyriotate of Destiny Petitioner for the Word of See, I TOLD You That Soap Operas Could Be A Significant Word
*Us Catholics stand up and sit down a lot during services. I can tell you (from attending Mass at the Pennsic War in full medieval garb) that wearing a sword at such a time can be awkward.
Yes, I have actually realtity tested IN, in a sense. :)
**Or maybe a specific something else, but it all depends on whether this vignette is a standalone or part of a shared world. :)
***Which is now a killer (pardon the pun) artifact, but I digress.
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