caveofsapphires | suddenly my eyes are open [open]

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suddenly my eyes are open [open]

WHO: Gabriel (Sylvester Wilton) and [OPEN]
WHAT: Gabriel got taken in for a memory-modification. Now he's a little bit weirded out.
WHERE: Sleeping quarters, Bakery, Bar, Temple, streets in-between.
WHEN: Tuesday 10 to Saturday 21 April 2012.

This was one Hell of an elaborate prank. Except that Gabriel was starting to doubt that it was a prank, exactly. Dad wouldn't have thrown him into a place where the inhabitants drilled into his skull. Or experimented on him. Or ... did something Gabriel wasn't quite aware of but which must have happened, because going off to the clinic and then waking up in his quarters without knowing the in-between kind of indicated something happened in the in-between. All at once he remembered the 'dancing alien' prank he'd pulled and wondered if this was in any way similar. Maybe Lucifer had done it, except that Gabriel was fairly sure even Lucifer had no idea where archangels went after they died or how to capture them before they went there.

Maybe this was some kind of archangel's afterlife. If so, Gabriel's only hope was that Luci's turned out worse in the end.

With a groan Gabriel rubbed his temples, trying to wish away the ... it wasn't a throb, exactly. More like a hollow ache. He'd tried to snap it away, naturally, but that had only made the headache worse, so he'd stopped.

"Note to self," he told his reflection in the mirror. "This ain't a game anymore, and pushing the line results in ... in ... something. Just because you've already died apparently doesn't mean it can't happen again. I mean, look at the Winchesters."

With that pep-talk, he staggered to his feet and out the door.

The next five days were, in a word, weird. He still had no idea how to bake, but when he walked into the bakery on Tuesday he found himself automatically pulling out the ingredients for icing and had finished making a multi-tier wedding cake before he realised what he was doing. (Of course, then he had get rid of the excess icing. The cake wasn't actually saleable either, but Gabriel figured he deserved a reward for actually doing some baking and not having it completely burn.)

Tuesday night and Wednesday morning he discovered that powerless archangels in human bodies could, indeed, get sick from eating too much sugar. He made it to work--for a little while--he just didn't get much work done. (Instead he spent most of it looking green and slumped on a chair near the cash-register, with neither the appetite for sweets nor the energy to bake.)

On Thursday after work he went to the bar. If he could get sick, maybe he could get drunk too, and then he could get rid of this niggling uneasiness (fear) that Something Was Wrong. He succeeded in getting drunk quite well, and for a happily oblivious night completely forgot what the hell he was meant to be uneasy about, if anything.

He just didn't make it to work on Friday and spent the day in bed, groaning over the hangover, yelling at anyone who made too much noise and then going back to bed to groan some more.

On Saturday he found the Temple, a tiny little hole in the wall whose only two seats were cut into stone and whose altar sported a couple of thick candles. There was another worshipper, but he left when Gabriel told him to skedaddle, and then the archangel had a very unproductive one-sided conversation with the candles. Anyone passing by might have heard the final rather frustrated and faintly echoing refrain of, "Dad, if you can hear me, get me out of here!"

By Sunday morning something had settled in his mind and he finally became aware that he, in fact, had an extra memory that had been hiding by pretending it belonged there. A memory of baking a multi-tier wedding cake, colour-coordinated with the wedding party, with the mother-in-law hovering over his shoulder. The realisation it was there made him shiver.

He imagined it lurking and giggling, and named it Marie.

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"I do think," Gabriel agreed in a murmur, fingers rapping the side of his jaw. He didn't appear to be paying attention to his companion's monologue, gaze darting around the buildings while he got to work on that 'memorising his route' thing, but mentally he filed things away.

"So Diamond City is the Los Angeles of real-time?" he asked in amusement with a hand-gesture that implied an air-quote but wasn't actually. "We'll be lucky if they kept anything other than movie reels." He paused a moment and then snapped his fingers. "On second thought, I'd call that 'luck'. I'm dying for some decent entertainment around here."

That earned him a soft chuckle. People did love their entertainment, and that was certainly not something speific to humans. "I suppose, in a manner of speaking. Not so much glitter and glamour as Los Angeles, though I'm sure they have their entertainment." The Doctor tilted his head towards his companion with a grin. "Messing about in the kitchen not amusement enough for you? There's always the bar. Ah, fairly quiet place, however. Perhaps not as entertaining as you'd like."

"Hrmph. Might have to fix that." The glitter and glamour was half the fun, mostly because it usually made people look utterly ridiculous. And when it didn't, well, it sometimes actually looked good.

He smirked back. "Needs a couple of ladies dancing to their poles before I'll start classing it as entertainment without my being there to create it for myself." He shrugged. "Or at least a pool table or dartboard would be nice."

Well, now he had at least some idea of what this man thought was entertaining. Definitely a mischief maker, the Doctor figured. "Oh, I'm sure there'll be better out in the city, hmm?" He chuckled. There had to be something, though whether or not it'd be open with the smaller population, he couldn't say. "You may have to go searching for it, but I'm sure it's out there somewhere."

"If it's even half like Los Angeles, there will be," Gabriel assured him with a smirk and a gleam in his eye. "Luckily, I'm very good at being on both sides of hide and seek."

Which made him a master at it. He knew just how to hide and he knew just how to seek. Of course, he had a bit of a handicap right now, but in some fashion--at least as far as the circumstances they were referring to--that would only make it more fun instead of less, as with most of his time here.

"Hide and seek?" the Doctor repeated, sounding vaguely incredulous. He hadn't had much time for silly child's games in so very long, and to picture this man playing them... Well, no, it was easy to picture, and made him chuckle and give his head a gentle shake. "Then I imagine the entertainment you seek won't be able to hide long, will it? Do try not to get into too much trouble." Likely advice that would go unheeded, but it was worth saying.

"Don't knock it too quickly," Gabriel admonished, the smirk lingering. "There's a lot of different ways you can play it to make it palatable to adults."

Often it including the caveat that the other player didn't know it was hide-and-seek, but that's what made it fun. Hunters were especially good for it. He looked innocent. "Trouble? Me?" The smirk came back. "Always."

"Oh, most of my experiences with the 'game' were on the hiding side of things, and not for enjoyment." After a paused, the Doctor added, "From my dream, you see. A lot of running and hiding was involved." A part of him couldn't wait to leave this place, if only so he wouldn't have to worry about how he spoke of his past. "I suppose that's the nature of dreams," he mused. "They can't always be pleasant, can they?"

The rest made him simply shake his head with a chuckle, clearly amused.

"There's an answer to that," Gabriel told him. "Become the hunter instead. You can even do it from the position of the mouse! It's just a matter of setting up the circumstances." The last word was accompanied with a waggle of his fingers in the air.

Then he waved with a roll of his eyes, submitting to the need to qualify their words. "Theoretically, of course."

The Doctor smirked. "Yes, of course." He opted not to continue down that thread of conversation, not wanting to push the limits too far. Perhaps another time. Always another time. He frowned, and shook his head.

"Well," he uttered, glancing around. They'd arrived at the living quarters, and the Doctor smiled pleasantly to Gabriel. "I suppose I could offer you a cup of tea. It's fairly easy on the stomach. Unless, of course, you've better things to do than amuse an old man for the evening."

"Only if the old man's willing to amuse me back," Gabriel said at once. Given that his alternatives were to go back to work or to find his own amusement from somewhere else, the offer was worth taking up.

"Never actually got your name," he added idly a moment later, looking around. "Which room's yours?"

He gave a chuckle. "I'm not sure what sort of entertainment an old man such as myself could provide, but tea is a start, hmm?"

The Doctor started down the hall towards his room, pausing to glance at Gabriel with a mischievous grin, as much as an old face could do such a thing. "You didn't, did you?" It wasn't like he'd actually asked for a name. "It's just down the hall here," came the answer to the actual question asked, and he continued down the hall a few doors before pausing and pulling that keycard up. Simple devices, these, but effective, given that the Sleepers had little access to tools to bipass them.

Spending so little time in his room meant it was pretty much clean, aside from one desk being cluttered with his research: ebooks, a reader, an assortment of notes, and buried beneath it all, the so-called 'proof' of his identity. And of course the rations he had stored away in the little kitchenette. "Do come in," he said, with an inviting wave of his hand, and went to tuck that cake away for later.

Gabriel threw back his head and laughed with genuine delight. Oh yes, he liked this spunky old man. "Nope, I didn't." He hadn't offered his, either.

The archangel strolled through the door with his hands in his pockets, still grinning, and glanced around. Not a man who lived-in obviously. Gabriel was, except that there was so little in his room to entertain him and he couldn't construct anything new. It was a pain.

"Love the decor," he called with a smirk, peering down at the notes with interest. "Had my place done by just the same guys."

The Doctor set about the motions of preparing tea, filling a kettle to let the water heat. "Hmm?" He glanced over at Gabriel, momentarily confused, then gave a smirk and shook his head. "Ah, yes, well. It suits its purpose, hmm? Hopefully the city will have much better accomodations." Not that he planned on becoming a permanent resident of the city, but small living quarters such that weren't intended to be stayed in for any length of time tended to be dull.

"Call me Doctor," he offered finally.

"Sure thing, Doc," Gabriel said immediately. Hah, and Azzy thought he'd gotten a nickname in too quick an order. "I've got a few, myself. Nowadays they're calling me Sylvester."

He rolled his eyes, which showed what he thought of that name, and continued paging through the notes, sharp eyes darting across them to look for anything relating to the Disaster or their current situation. Not that he thought Doctor had been holding back, but maybe not going into details.

He scowled towards Gabriel. Really should have expected that. "Not 'Doc.' Doctor. It's really not that difficult." He had a pretty good notion that the man wouldn't listen. Turning back to fetch cups, he asked, "What were you called before?"

The notes were, for the most part, scientific in nature, relating the levels of advancement of this society, with some of his own making corrections to theories or formulas. There was some mention of the planet's history, but nothing regarding the Disaster outside of the possible timeline for its occurance.

Nope. Not going to listen at all. For a moment Gabriel continued to look through the notes, mentally taking down the potential timeline and smirking a little at the corrections to the science. Well, well. Pretty advanced fella. Pretty damned advanced fella.

(Not that Gabriel could follow all of it, exactly. Sure, he'd manipulated time and space on a regular basis, but that was mostly instinct. The actual formulas and things? Not so much. Give him practical use any day.)

Then he looked up with a mocking smile. "That depends on which alias you want." And whether he wanted to give out his real name. The old man was amusing, but they'd only just met.

Tea was poured into the cups with a bit of milk, and the Doctor carried them over to offer one to Gabriel.. With a smirk and a quirked brow, he gave the man a scrutinizing look. "How about what you'd prefer to be called?" he asked. It was a start, though he'd likely wind up sticking with Sylvester in the cave, if there did come a time when he had to use the man's name.

It was the way that was phrased that made Gabriel's smile became a bit fixed. What he'd prefer to be called. He hadn't stopped to think about that in a while.

Loki wasn't even his name; he'd just borrowed it. Noah was, sort of, in some denominations, but the truth was that Noah had been his own person, not some kind of human form for Gabriel himself. But his name, his real name, had been given to him by Dad. And there were a lot of things twisted in with that that made him love and hate it at once.

What the Hell. He'd come this far, shucked off the whole irresponsible trickster thing ... sort of. With a wry, twisted smile the archangel said, "Gabriel. My name is ... was ... Gabriel."

The Doctor offered a smile, and extended a hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Gabriel." It was polite, at least - how glad he was to have made the man's acquaintance remained to be seen, but he certainly didn't dislike the man. Even if he had been going through the Doctor's notes.

"What sort of mischief do you get up to here when not trying to pass as a baker?" he asked. There weren't exactly a lot of options. "You're not much of a reader," he said with a smirk, casting a glance towards his notes. "It lacks the sort of entertainment you desire. Surely there must be something you do to while away the hours."

If he hadn't wanted Gabriel to read them, he shouldn't have left them in plain view, obviously. The archangel took his hand and pumped it harder than necessary, his eyebrows lifted with innocence.

"Right here?" he said ... well, mischievously, and then shrugged. "Mostly I watch people. Spread a few rumours. See how people react to a bit of flour above the door. That one's surprisingly difficult to get a rise with around here, though." He grinned. "And, of course, I'm in the best position to get something other than rations."

The pun had the Doctor's brows quirking with mild amusement, the old man giving a soft chuckle. "It certainly seems you have quite a few talents, hmm?" So far none of them technical, but hey, entertainment was useful, too. And, of course, if Gabriel ever managed to figure out his baking skills, the Doctor would be glad for some tasty treats. "I consider myself something of a jack of trades, dabbling here and there. Not so much in areas for entertainment, but, well, we can't all be comedians, now can we?"

"What can I say? I'm a man of many, many talents," Gabriel said, spreading his hands and shrugging. Of course, he had a few extras he really wasn't telling this guy about, but he couldn't let on everything, right?

"You're doing fine for a rookie," the archangel told the old man, and plonked himself on the chair, stretching out his legs and making himself comfortable. "Go on, then. Give me a sample of these trades."

Multi-talented people were very useful, and if he had many more that the Doctor didn't know of, well. Not that the Doctor only cared about usefulness, but it did open up options when one needed certain... talents. He just had to figure out what Gabriel's other talents were, at some point.

"Oh, you know. This and that. Mathematics, botany, zoology, archaeology, a bit of anthropology..." What could he say? He studied things. A lot. And while that was certainly not the extent of his dabbling, it was what he thought of given his research into this planet. "And I do brew a fine cup of tea, if I do say so myself," he added, a hint of a grin on his face before he took a sip from his cup.

"Geek," Gabriel said, amusement written all over his face. "I knew someone like you; went into spasms over all that stuff." Archaeology and anthropology weren't all that interesting when you saw the whole 'past development' of both culture and people as it happened. Same with botany, biology and all those--Gabriel had seen them created.

Math, though. Math wasn't really his thing. The archangel had a healthy ... well, somewhat decent ... respect for mathematicians. There was a language there which Gabriel had never really bothered to try and grasp until after--until much later. And even then, as an archangel he didn't really have a need for it. Now, though ...

"I've only ever been so-so at math," he told the Doctor, quite sincerely this time. Then he rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "Where do you start with all those numbers?"

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oops I flaked and lost this amongst the spam :( sorry

np! also i think i meant '*unlike* most of his time here'

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hope you don't mind backtagging into oblivion >_>

not in the least! :D

yay! :D

<3

np! also i think i meant 'unlike most of his time here'