Dark Messenger

Participants:

eve_icon.gif tavisha_icon.gif

Scene Title Dark Messenger
Synopsis Eve 'reunites' with an old friend.
Date February 24, 2009

Overgrown Cemetery

The vast graveyard stretches for kilometers, with dark damp soil making everything feel cold as you-know-what. Signs of mass graves, loose soil, and the faint smell of rotting flesh are present around the outer edges, ominously surrounding the original relaxed single-grave style in the center. Many of the old graves have been vandalized or exhumed, leaving many empty six foot deep holes scattered around. Some open holes are still curiously empty, while others have been reorganized into piles of bodies, forgotten and unburied, and still more are just as likely to house the living.

The marble sculptures and tombstones of long ago have been reduced to nondescript lumps of rock, but this doesn't stop people from placing new markers for the deceased — yet it seems futile since none of it will stay. The inhabitants will take whatever stone and scrap metal are left here, using them to build makeshift shelters, or simply reorganizing them to whatever chaotic patterns they worship.


The monuments of this place are jagged, broken teeth, beaten by abuse and neglect until only incoherent slabs of rock really remain. A raven flies, dips down into the darkness to land on an exposed corpse with only a dusting of wet dirt over it. Not the first of its kind, this place smells of rotting human. A full moon sets the night on preternatural fire based in bright white light, lining the clouds with this paint job of the ethereal.

There is, however, one thing left untouched. Perhaps it's a new addition, as Eve may recognize this place, but not this monument. A marble statue of some kind of androgynous angel braces his feet against a tomb, frozen in place with palms turned upwards and head bowed in sorrow. Wings curve into towards his back, the peaks of bone-white marble curving and engraved with feather patterns. There's no indicator as to who rests here, who was loved so much that a statue of an angel was erected to keep watching.

The raven leaves its perch on the corpse, lands upon a curving wing, and cleans its own glossy black feathers.
A dark shadow glides across the ground and the figure with a hooded long jacket on looks around and her gaze settles on the statue. That wasn't there before.. was it? Eve's eyes study the object and she tilts her head, her midnight black hair spills out from the hood.

Eyeing the bird, Eve comes closer to the monument. Her booted feet make light noises on the ground. The seer's gaze then lifts to the sky, "Beautiful." She breathes.

The bird tilts its black head at her, beady eyes watchful, little pits of darkness, and simultaneously seeming to to glance up at the sky as she does. Then, rather suddenly, it croaks out a bleating warning, wings extending to show off its feathers which puff out, as if feeling threatened, to make itself seem bigger. A low caw, a flap of its wings, as if perhaps trying to warning Eve back— but in fact, if new footsteps are to be of any indication, its warning Eve away of what's just behind her.

In contrast to the bone white marble of the statue, this man that approaches, stops several feet away from her, is clad in black, although his skin is pale in this lighting, only giving more definition to the darker features of definite eyebrows, the widow's peak in his hair. His dark eyes studying Eve like one might regard a puzzle piece.

The raven is given another look and Eve begins to back away but as she turns around she stop and tilts her head. She cannot see the face of the man that clearly. Her gaze travels up and down the man.

A look is given of the general direction the Raven went. "Who are you?" she asks, as if she really has a right to know. Her black dress rustles while she moves.

A long pause, the two entities in the graveyard, perhaps, trying to recognise each other. To no avail. Then, he lifts an arm, bending at the elbow, offering it up. The raven leaps off the statue, swoops by Eve, the tips of his feathers brushing her hair as he goes to land, claws first, on the offered arm. A large hand strokes down its silky black body, and he moves in closer. In the moonlight, as the clouds shift and offer more clarity, it becomes clear to Eve who this man is. Someone very recognisable.

"Gabriel."

Eve waves her hand in the air when the raven gets too close and she squints her eyes. Ah yes, Gabriel. The man that haunted her dreams, the something of an alley but not really. The serial killer she is not afraid of.

Eve blinks and shakes her head. "Gabriel.. you've been gone for a while." Eve states and she looks at the raven and then her gaze locks onto Gabriel's. Her eerie grey eyes look at him, he does look a little different than she last remembers him.

"I was never really here to begin with," this man, Gabriel?, tells her, and dark eyes turn from the raven on his arm, and back to her, although the hand stroking feathers does not cease it's slow, soothing movement. "I'm sorry if I'm cryptic, I don't recognise you. I don't recognise many things. People call me many different names, much like our friend…" His gaze moves over Eve to indicate the statue behind her. "But he, he was always called Gabriel. The angel of death. Or just a messenger."

"You've forgotten. All of it.. the lucky man." Eve walks closer. "The angel of death.." Eve muses and pulls her hood back so that her hair falls free, she shakes it out just a bit and looks at the man and the raven. "What is your name?" What is he calling himself? This 'new' man that has risen from the old one that went by the name of Sylar. "I am.. Eve."

"What would you most like to call me?" he asks, and then seems to start as the raven, in a flurry of panicked motion, launches off his arm, wings flailing and surging upwards into the night time sky. "Most are like that," he muses, gaze turned towards the bird's flight. "Most tend to leave when there's a monster present."

"I'll call you Gabriel.. it's a powerful name. Suits you." Eve states and watches as the Raven flies away. "Interesting birds.. omens of death and destruction some say." Eve stares at the sky and the moon, the light reflecting in her eyes. "But who is the monster Gabriel?" Eve's gaze drifts down to Gabriel's. "Do you know?"

"Gabriel," he repeats, then nods a little. "For tonight, I think it's a good name. As for the monster, I guess it depends on if you consider me to be an Angel of Death, or a Messenger?" He steps closer to her now, looming, the shadows seeming to blend into the dark of his hair and clothing. "Many people believe I'm the former, but I don't see you running."

"Oh Gabriel, don't you know.." Eve walks up even closer, no fear can be felt from her. She is oddly calm. "I have never run from you.." there was that one time with Abby but that doesn't really count because he wasn't chasing her. "The Messenger?" Eve runs a hand through her hair. "What is your message?" she asks in a singsong voice.

"That there are worse things on this island than me," Gabriel says. "As many monsters as there are victims. It's up to you, if you can be smart enough to tell the difference in between them. You could save a lot of people, Eve, or you could kill them in your efforts to be a hero. It's your decision." His hand raises, now, casually, two fingers extended to
point, as if to draw a bloodied line across her head.

When cut begins on her head, blood drips into her eyes clouding her vision. She tries to hold back but her clenched fists and rigid body don't help her, instead she screams loudly as the Messenger delivers his message. Her body jerks.

Gabriel moves towards her, focus in a hawk-like gaze as telekinesis saws through flesh and bone, a rain of red streaking down her face, and above… something strange happens. A line that mimics the one drawn on Eve's forehead draws itself across the forehead of the angel that looks on, bleeding just as freely, although the statue doesn't scream. As Eve falls back, as her vision clears of blood that was never there, and reality shifts into the waking world.

The seeress gasps and sits forward. Her apartment is cold and empty. The moon shines in through her window. Her body is drenched in sweat and she looks around the room, her window is open and the curtains flutter from the wind. Only one thing echoes in her mind as she stands and prepares for her journey.

Messenger


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February 24th: Not So Bad
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February 25th: The Orchestra Adjourns
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