Adam Milligan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
halfwinchester) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entranceway2014-03-20 12:59 pm
halfwinchester) wrote in entranceway2014-03-20 12:59 pm
002 ♟ action/audio | titled: "Three Signs of the Wonderland Apocalypse"
(OOC: Until the gender swap wears off mid-event, replies will come from halfsister, his gender swap equivalent! Open sections are for the early days of the event, approximately glossing over the 20th-22nd. :D Audio portion is posted a tad early for convenience's sake.)
| Chapter One: "Sex organs you never wanted"
[Having your nose broken and the side of your face turned into a swollen mess by someone you don't even know puts a cramp on a person's social life. After Clarisse, Adam sticks close to home for the most part, subsisting on painkillers and brief stints in the clinic where Martha makes sure his face is growing back straight.
Healing up after a shake down is slow and boring, and in retrospect Adam is sure that has something to do with why the talking lizard's changes are interesting enough to warrant his attention.
On Wednesday, the gazebo had seemed safe enough to check out. On Thursday, he's proven wrong. So wrong.
He's been mauled, he's been burnt up in Hell, he's been turned into a friggin' suit of armor, but being a flesh-and-blood girl... The adjustment period is an arduous one, to say the least, and involves a lot of time not knowing what to do with himself in his room. After the tenth time checking out old scars and birth marks, it's official, someone gave him a free sex change.
And it's the little things that get him the most.
Bathroom breaks are hard. Lying down with sandbags on his chest is hard. Clothes are disturbingly hard when bras need to go on and not off. (Sports bras count, don't they?) He takes a shower the next morning because the lack of one pushes him past his fear of naked cleavage, and it's not even deciding to wearing a bathing suit inside the shower that bothers him, it's the tangle of hair he's left with afterward. Suddenly there's so much hair! He actually needs a hair brush to untangle himself after months of not bothering, and he fantasizes about taking scissors and lopping everything. Bye bye, girly locks.
Except he doesn't, because he needs to leave his room eventually and figure this shit out, and probably should look halfway normal to do it.
At least not looking like Adam means no one will look at him and see Adam and ask about his face.
... And he'll leave once he figures out how to make the closet give him shoes that aren't two sizes too big.]
| Chapter Two: "Miniature angels and demi-gods rain from the sky" | action
[No one even look at the slouched girl outside. Don't even look.
She looks vaguely uncomfortable, wearing jeans that are slightly too big for her and burrowed in an over-sized hoodie, hands pushed deep into the pockets. Maybe it has something to do with the fact a good deal of her face is a paint-by-number color pallet of reds, blacks, and purples at the worst spots and autumn colors at the healing sights. A small white nasal splint sits across the bridge of her nose.
Or maybe it's the fact that this is Adam, and the unhappy twist to his mouth belongs to him.
The painkillers he'd loaded up on to come out here make everything warm and sloppy at the edges, and one of the few things keeping him tranquilized, preventing him from doing something he might regret like... get on the network and shout at someone like a girl having the worst menstrual period of her life.
He lurks around the gazebo for a while, hoping that's the cause, hoping it'll go back, even whining "come on, come on!" under his breath at one point in a voice that is far too high-pitched for his liking.
Nothing happens. He wanders around outside for a while and pops another ibuprofen. Still nothing happens.
He still has breasts. It's a weird day, but hey, drugs give his smaller frame an extra pow now and that makes things a little better.]
| Chapter Three: "You can't get the beer even if you want the beer" | audio
[On day two, Adam's ready to get off this ride. Sitting down to pee all the time is too much. Not being able to twist bottle caps off without waging all out war on them with the side of a table or a bottle opener isn't just a waste of time, it's annoying.
If there's a quick fix out there, he'd like to know.
Hence, Adam comes out of self-imposed isolation to speak to the network as a whole, though there's a bright side to having a girl's voice and that's that no one can guess who it belongs to straight away. In an attempt to protect his anonymity further, he's stepped out of his room to use one of the wall units he's seen around and not his actual phone. Better safe than sorry.]
This Freaky Friday body switch stuff is great, but has anyone figured out how to switch back? Someone should let the talking lizard know this isn't fixing shit.
[One might be inclined to believe this bluntness is hiding a calmness of some kind. Almost.]
Look-- [When he goes to speak again, something clatters to the ground. There's a grunt of irritation. He's made the mistake of trying to grab two of his travelling companions--his personal device and a bottle of water--with one hand, the same hand that has a noticeably smaller hand span now, too small to hold both.] Damn it. For f--
[No, he's not dealing with this calmly. He'd enjoy going back to normal, okay, please and thank you.]
Are we doing something about this or are we just sitting on our hands, 'cause I'd really like to know.
halfsister, his gender swap equivalent! Open sections are for the early days of the event, approximately glossing over the 20th-22nd. :D Audio portion is posted a tad early for convenience's sake.)| Chapter One: "Sex organs you never wanted"
[Having your nose broken and the side of your face turned into a swollen mess by someone you don't even know puts a cramp on a person's social life. After Clarisse, Adam sticks close to home for the most part, subsisting on painkillers and brief stints in the clinic where Martha makes sure his face is growing back straight.
Healing up after a shake down is slow and boring, and in retrospect Adam is sure that has something to do with why the talking lizard's changes are interesting enough to warrant his attention.
On Wednesday, the gazebo had seemed safe enough to check out. On Thursday, he's proven wrong. So wrong.
He's been mauled, he's been burnt up in Hell, he's been turned into a friggin' suit of armor, but being a flesh-and-blood girl... The adjustment period is an arduous one, to say the least, and involves a lot of time not knowing what to do with himself in his room. After the tenth time checking out old scars and birth marks, it's official, someone gave him a free sex change.
And it's the little things that get him the most.
Bathroom breaks are hard. Lying down with sandbags on his chest is hard. Clothes are disturbingly hard when bras need to go on and not off. (Sports bras count, don't they?) He takes a shower the next morning because the lack of one pushes him past his fear of naked cleavage, and it's not even deciding to wearing a bathing suit inside the shower that bothers him, it's the tangle of hair he's left with afterward. Suddenly there's so much hair! He actually needs a hair brush to untangle himself after months of not bothering, and he fantasizes about taking scissors and lopping everything. Bye bye, girly locks.
Except he doesn't, because he needs to leave his room eventually and figure this shit out, and probably should look halfway normal to do it.
At least not looking like Adam means no one will look at him and see Adam and ask about his face.
... And he'll leave once he figures out how to make the closet give him shoes that aren't two sizes too big.]
| Chapter Two: "Miniature angels and demi-gods rain from the sky" | action
[No one even look at the slouched girl outside. Don't even look.
She looks vaguely uncomfortable, wearing jeans that are slightly too big for her and burrowed in an over-sized hoodie, hands pushed deep into the pockets. Maybe it has something to do with the fact a good deal of her face is a paint-by-number color pallet of reds, blacks, and purples at the worst spots and autumn colors at the healing sights. A small white nasal splint sits across the bridge of her nose.
Or maybe it's the fact that this is Adam, and the unhappy twist to his mouth belongs to him.
The painkillers he'd loaded up on to come out here make everything warm and sloppy at the edges, and one of the few things keeping him tranquilized, preventing him from doing something he might regret like... get on the network and shout at someone like a girl having the worst menstrual period of her life.
He lurks around the gazebo for a while, hoping that's the cause, hoping it'll go back, even whining "come on, come on!" under his breath at one point in a voice that is far too high-pitched for his liking.
Nothing happens. He wanders around outside for a while and pops another ibuprofen. Still nothing happens.
He still has breasts. It's a weird day, but hey, drugs give his smaller frame an extra pow now and that makes things a little better.]
| Chapter Three: "You can't get the beer even if you want the beer" | audio
[On day two, Adam's ready to get off this ride. Sitting down to pee all the time is too much. Not being able to twist bottle caps off without waging all out war on them with the side of a table or a bottle opener isn't just a waste of time, it's annoying.
If there's a quick fix out there, he'd like to know.
Hence, Adam comes out of self-imposed isolation to speak to the network as a whole, though there's a bright side to having a girl's voice and that's that no one can guess who it belongs to straight away. In an attempt to protect his anonymity further, he's stepped out of his room to use one of the wall units he's seen around and not his actual phone. Better safe than sorry.]
This Freaky Friday body switch stuff is great, but has anyone figured out how to switch back? Someone should let the talking lizard know this isn't fixing shit.
[One might be inclined to believe this bluntness is hiding a calmness of some kind. Almost.]
Look-- [When he goes to speak again, something clatters to the ground. There's a grunt of irritation. He's made the mistake of trying to grab two of his travelling companions--his personal device and a bottle of water--with one hand, the same hand that has a noticeably smaller hand span now, too small to hold both.] Damn it. For f--
[No, he's not dealing with this calmly. He'd enjoy going back to normal, okay, please and thank you.]
Are we doing something about this or are we just sitting on our hands, 'cause I'd really like to know.
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The long hair that swishes against his face when he spins around tells him that yes, he still is rocking the long and blonde look, but when his gaze dips down and settles on the little boy, everything makes sense.
A horrible, heart-stopping kind of sense.
The last time Adam had seen that uniform, an angel had been wearing it... over top of the vessel he'd also been wearing. A vessel that now looks suspiciously like he's Benjamin Button-ed his way back into diapers. What the fuck is even happening anymore.
"Holy shit." He says the words to himself silently, lips barely moving.]
You. You're the-- [He breaks off, becoming uncertain.] You're the angel?
[Squinting in his condition really fucking hurts. He regrets it, but it's hard to stop.]
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Yes. Samandriel.
[He confirms despite still not knowing how this happened, all the while squinting up at Adam and peering at her like a confused bird. This is a strange situation, for sure. Even more than it would have been with just him being...small like this.
A long pause follows, joined by more staring. Until the possibility finally hits him. The person who had hung up on him, who'd sounded less than thrilled when angels had come up... Had it been Adam?]
...You were the one who spoke to me when I first arrived.
[That realization hits him slowly, and then...confuses. The voice had been male, and Adam is clearly not. Brow furrowing more deeply now, an expression of intense concentration that looks out of place on a face as young as his, Samandriel regards Adam more curiously now.]
Your voice is different now.
no subject
Like his vessel's gone back in time, Adam thinks. Another case of time travelling, going back in time and taking over someone from the past like what Michael had done to John? No, but that doesn't make any sense, not even for angels who hardly ever make sense. Would an angel even want to possess a body that small? How could this one have even left and returned to Wonderland so fast? And the uniform. The uniform is glaringly obvious. This can't be Samandriel's vessel from ten years in the past, wearing that.
The implication really does not fucking bode well for Adam if an angel of all things has shrunk like an angelic version of Alice in Wonderland.
He ignores the name, just like he ignores most of them after seeing Zachariah show his true colors, and focuses instead on the fact that this is a nuclear powerhouse in the body of a kid and that Samandriel can see through the surprise change in sex.
... Sort of.]
That's because I was me before. [He shakes his head in disbelief. Captain Obvious' comment is enough to override his instinct to watch what he says around these creatures.] You know who I am, you know I'm a guy. This place did something. Change me back!
no subject
It changed you, too. [It's an obvious statement, another one, but it's finally clicking after perhaps a bit too long trying to figure it out. Even though Adam mentioned being a guy.] But not your age. Your gender?
[Of course. He should have realized it before, of course, but realizing it at all is the important thing here. Frowning up at Adam, Samandriel looks him over quietly, trying to make a few judgements. Namely, how Wonderland could do such a thing, but also how he might go about fixing it.
It doesn't seem like an impossibility, he is still incredibly powerful after all, but after everything he's heard about Wonderland and these events... He's uncertain. Something more powerful than an angel is behind all this, and if it's toying with them like this, changing their bodies, he may not be able to do anything.]
I'm... I'm not certain that I can. I'll try, if you'd like for me to, but I can't guarantee that it will work.
no subject
Yes, it swapped me for the "she" version.
[Duh, his tone says. What, had this feathered dumbass really thought he was supposed to be this way? Aren't angels supposed to be able to read souls like instruction manuals? Adam's only ever been one way, that's who and what he is, and he'd rather go back to the cozy body he'd grown up in even if he'd been going without it for quite a while in the Cage--it's still his.
But Samandriel's answer brings him up short, curbing some of his insistence. Just as he could never forget the Cage, he could never forget who had helped put him there: angel kind. Knowing what they're capable of...
He remembers exactly the sorts of things an angel likes to try. Maybe an angel could fix him, but he remembers, too, why he'll never give permission for just any of them to use him, or use their special powers on him. There's a short, horrified silence as Adam realizes what he's asked.]
No. [He's quite sure of what he doesn't want, at least, and that's to end up worse off than he already is, which is almost guaranteed when a strange angel agrees to do something for you.] No, never mind, I don't. Keep the angel stuff to yourself.
no subject
Well. Samandriel's not particularly thrilled about being barely taller than most peoples' knees, so they're in similar predicaments. He can understand how frustrated Adam must be, although he personally thinks that gender change is less frustrating than age/size. But then, he's never had a gender to begin with, so they don't mean all that much to him.
Eyes fixed on Adam, the angel watches him carefully, waiting expectantly for a response. He wants to help if he can, though he's not sure if he can, but he won't do anything without the go-ahead. He's heard about Adam. About what he's been through. And he...can't particularly blame him if he's wary of angelkind.
However, he still manages to be surprised when the offer is turned down.]
Are you sure? [Peering upward, he scrutinizes the human's expression, as though searching to see if he really means what he's said.] If not your body, I can at least heal your wounds. Your face looks as though it must be in a great deal of pain.
no subject
"Wary" of angels is putting it lightly, and for a moment or two, he wonders what's going through Samandriel's head, if he's just made a big mistake by opening his mouth and that he's inexplicably going to end up without his kidneys in the next second. Adam doesn't know why he does it because it just reminds him that his chest is a no man's land of foreign body parts, but he crosses his arms over himself protectively.
This is what his life's amounted to: warily praying a toddler angel doesn't send him face-first back into a world of agony while he walks around in a body not even his own. Thank you, Wonderland.]
... Look, I never would have answered your video if I'd known. I want my body back, but I don't want any favors from you guys. Whatever side you're on.
[Maybe this one's one of Michael's bitches, maybe he's not like Gabriel, it doesn't really matter. He resists the urge to step back and make himself even smaller and vulnerable than he already is. His face does hurt, it's hurt for the past week, but there's a reason he hasn't gone to the circle of magical healing angels for help.
It's not like he has a say in things if an angel wants to switch his insides for his outsides, though. Adam's acutely aware of that fact. His initial urgency is carefully hidden behind a neutral mask.]
I'd rather pass on the laying on of hands if I got a choice.
no subject
The way he actually gets the no, however, the way it's worded, manages to come as a bit of a shock. His eyebrows raise, and he just stares up at the...woman/man before him. He'd appreciated Adam's answer to his video, even if it had ended...poorly. And he honestly wouldn't call it a favour, trying to put his body right. He'd do the same for anyone, and expect nothing in return.
In any case, he nods. It's a no, and that's fine. If Adam would rather suffer the pain than have it healed, so be it.]
Of course you have a choice, it was only an offer. [He says it like this should be the most obvious thing ever.] I might only consider doing it without your permission if you were near death.
[But clearly, he's not. So choice, he has. Even if Samandriel would much rather see him healed than not.
There's a pause, and a look of apology flickers across his face.]
...I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable by offering. That wasn't my intention.
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Really. [He should shut up, he knows he's pushing his luck every time he speaks his mind in front of one of these angels, but the effort required to resist is too much even for someone who's endured an era in the pit.] What, did I finally earn a choice after passing a milestone in Hell or something?
[Because angels and choices haven't been compatible so far. Who the fuck is this to talk about choices to him? Being in a new body doesn't change or erase what's happened.]
Is that how it works, break a millennium downstairs, get the right to decide for yourself?
[The look of apology in that baby face is out of place, both because it's a child who wouldn't have that kind of self-awareness on a normal day, and because the person making the expression is an angel. An angel apologizing to him reeks of insincerity on more than one level.]
What do you want?
no subject
N-no, no, I-- [He's a bit speechless right now, his words startled right out of him. He already feels bad for Adam and what he's been through, but having it waved in front of him like this... He doesn't know what to do. Or what to say. None of that had been his decision...]
It's nothing like that, I-- I simply don't want to do something for you if you don't want it...
[Deflating a bit, Samandriel looks like he might apologize again. He refrains for the time being, but it's not a possibility to be ruled out. And, even after the questions that practically dripped in sarcasm and Adam's ideas on how awful angels are, he answers the question again as though it should be clear to anyone;]
I'd only wanted to help. You looked...distraught. [...He looks worse now, though.] I also wanted to meet you. I've...heard about you, and I suppose I, ah. I was surprised to see you here.
[Alive. Not burning. Not with Michael in you. You know.]
no subject
The look on the kid's face is almost comical when you really think about the context. The angel looks as surprised to have Adam call a spade a spade as if the sky suddenly opened up and started raining frogs. He's not sure he's ever heard an angel at a loss for words before. No one of them can be this good of an actor, can they? Gabriel, maybe, but he doesn't seem like one for stuttering or playing the timid card. And Castiel had never sugarcoated the fact that Zachariah had been right about nobody giving a crap about the half-brother.
But this one... Talking about just wanting to help like the most innocent angel on the block, this one is trying to get away with pretending to be all sugar and sweetness. Wow. Had Adam been faced with this back before the Cage, before he'd found out the truth, he would have bought it whole-heartedly. Cute kid, kind angel... This is how it's supposed to be, not how it ever had been. Now, he doesn't let the boy's downcast face shake him, even if he's tempted to ask if the angel is always this demure around people he knows full well he can kill in an instant.
Somehow Adam doubts this is sincere sympathy for the vessel that had face-planted at the bottom of the Cage, though. He'd been down there for years, and no one had come knocking for his autograph then. Suddenly he's--literally--the one who got away.]
You had no idea it was me on the phone?
[Adam definitely looks leery of Samandriel's answer, studying him with narrowed eyes. He doesn't know how to respond to the angel's offers to help without really giving Samandriel a piece of his mind, so he says nothing at all.
When it comes to the Cage, his tone is dark and unwavering.]
Yeah, I remember bunking with Michael and Lucifer, if that's what you want to know. You guys have been playing doctor with my soul since I got here.
[Gabriel, mostly, but at the same time it's a subtle reminder that he's Michael's vessel and Michael doesn't seem to be the happiest archangel around when other angels touch his spare shirt. That includes Samandriel now, if he's joining the angel brigade on a permanent basis.]
no subject
Hence the stammering, the surprise, and the worry in his reactions. Not that he was always the most professional speaker before everything that happened, but still. It certainly hasn't helped him any.]
No. I was weak at the time, and my senses... They were dulled. I didn't know I was speaking with you.
[Looking down, Samandriel looks almost ashamed. He still feels awful for that broadcast, for making angels in general look bad, so weak and desperate.
The next harsh response has his gaze back up on Adam, however, worry returning to his face. He hadn't been planning to ask if he remembered being in the cage. He didn't need to, not with the way he's behaving about angels--that tells Samandriel all he needs to know. And it makes him honestly sympathetic. He does feel bad about what had happened, he'd never thought it was fair... But he hadn't exactly been able to go in and fetch poor Adam out, either. Not without getting himself into trouble.]
That's... That's not what I wanted to know. Though, I-- I am sorry for what happened to you. I never supported it. [He'd never been in favour of the Apocalypse either, but there again...nothing he could have done about it.] In any case, I understand your wariness, and I won't touch you if that's what you want.
no subject
However, so much of Adam's misery has come directly or indirectly at the hands of angels, and if what Charlie had said about prophets is true, then his whole life might have been one big game of chess with angels dictating his movements as a pawn. That doesn't make sympathy for angels easy. What he sees when Samandriel looks at the ground isn't an angel abashed at showing weakness, it's...
He's not sure what it is. He's less and less sure the longer the little kid squirms. What, had Wonderland snatched up the world's most apologetic killing machine?]
Which part, the Apocalypse or your boss using the illegitimate brother as bait?
[He isn't as sharp this time, more dry with resignation that his life is shit and every angel in Heaven knows it. There's no point in malice. He can't hurt an angel, not physically and probably not even emotionally, but there is plenty of prejudice when he looks at one of Samandriel's kind, just as there is for angels and demons.
If this one can actually wrap his head around Adam not wanting them interfering at every turn, he's light years ahead of the rest of the class. Gold star for you, cherub.]
no subject
Gaze drifting back up to Adam, Samandriel watches him rather tentatively. At least his tone is less...angry this time. There's no answer right away, not that he has to think about his answer, it's just that this conversation is more difficult than he'd anticipated it being when he'd walked over. Maybe he should have been better prepared.]
Both.
[It's an honest answer, and he tries to show that honesty, meeting Adam's gaze with an entirely sincere look. He's not expecting it to do much, or to make Adam feel any better, but it's something he wants to say, wants Adam to know.]
no subject
He crosses his arms, breaking the angel's gaze with quiet acceptance. He'll take the answer, but the inner faith to go with it isn't there.]
Funny how people who had a problem with Michael's manifesto only come out of the woodwork once everything's over.
[That's life, though, isn't it? The ugly mistake comes back from Hell and suddenly the apologists are everywhere. Castiel, Dean, even some of the angels who'd never bothered to show their faces during the fight... It's like watching his own funeral where people who don't know him and who don't actually care show up to offer their heartfelt condolences.
Oh yeah, and he has breasts now. Win-win all around.
He exhales through his nose, changing the subject back to what Samandriel had originally been talking about. "Understand his wariness"? Sure. Adam had to wonder if he actually could, or understand how tiring living this fallout is. It's not his face that needs the help, it's his soul.]
Yeah, well, thanks for the offer, but I'm sure I'll make do somehow.
no subject
Perhaps it's something he'll figure out one day. In the meantime, he already has plans to look out for Adam--as he plans to do with all of the humans here. To protect them, keep them safe. That's supposed to be an angel's job, after all. Even if so many of his siblings were far from good at it.]
That's the only time it's safe...
[The words come out quietly, could even be missed easily. If he had been capable of standing up against Michael and everyone on his side, if he had been far braver, as Castiel was, then maybe he would have tried to do something. It had been fear, that's all. Fear was what kept him doing his thing and trying to avoid the fighting, avoid getting involved at all. Adam is free to criticize as he will, if he feels that will make things better.
As Adam speaks again though, Samandriel just gives a small, resigned nod. He won't keep pushing Adam. If he doesn't want the help, then he doesn't want the help. Fine. He can respect the decision, and does.]
Alright. But should you change your mind, the offer will still be there.
no subject
Adam's seen what Michael's capable of in the Cage, even felt all that burning power while Michael had used him as a vessel. He remembers having Michael bearing down on him in his true form, remembers his fear. It's because he couldn't stand up to Michael that his "yes" had slipped past his lips that day; Heaven, for all that it is, couldn't feel safe anymore if Michael were there. He doesn't blame the angel for a self-preservation instinct.
No one can stop Michael, and that's the unfair part.
To stop him once before, Adam had had to be the sacrificial lamb, but here they are, that time in the Cage wasted, back to having Michael declare ownership of him like a scrap of meat and carving things into his ribs, walking into his dreams. It's unfair, and even if Samandriel is really the most trustworthy and benevolent angel of them all, Adam knows if Michael appeared right this second, Samandriel would take off like a pigeon at the sight of a hawk. Ultimately, sympathy only goes so far. Adam doesn't care for his odds in the long game.
He lifts his eyebrows a fraction. One good turn deserves another, right?]
It's not getting any safer with him here in case you hadn't noticed. Your boss seems to have a problem with you guys getting too friendly with me, so if I did change my mind, you know it's your number he's dialing up, don't you?
[Not that he will change his mind since he's even more suspicious of angels poking their nose in his business than Michael is, but the warning's there.]
no subject
However, things are different here in Wonderland, too. It doesn't feel quite as daunting because there aren't so many angels. There are none to fight about taking sides, there aren't even any who are particularly loyal to Michael--Samandriel is quite certain that if he got into any trouble with Michael, he would have some help from Castiel, and perhaps even Gabriel, though they don't know each other well. Michael isn't as big a threat here, it's almost a small relief of sorts.]
I don't believe he would have any problem with me offering you a kindness or even help that you required. [While he means to, his statement doesn't sound very definitive. He...doesn't know Michael well enough to know if what he's saying is really true, but it would make sense if it was.] He shouldn't have a problem with any of us keeping you safe or fixing you up. I suspect he would only have a problem if I were to try using you as a vessel.
[It's likely that Michael is protective of previous vessels, or any that he can use as vessels, in case something were to happen to the one he's currently using. That, at least, makes sense.]
But I have no intention of doing so.
no subject
He'd had a feeling being a vessel meant being a "one size fits all" kind of person, but even the idea of having any random angel try to cram themselves inside him if they damn well feel like trying to pry permission out of him is enough to make him twist his mouth unhappily. The confirmation sits like a stone in his stomach.
At least Samandriel is reassuring about it. After all, why take another guy hostage when you have a perfectly healthy person bound and gagged inside their own body? That makes it all better.]
Well, you met me. [He ignores the rest in favor of deadpanning at the child.] Wrong body, but close enough.
[They've had a nice chat and even covered Adam's status as a piece of angel clothing. There can't be much more they can cover unless Samandriel wants to take him by the hand and talk about his dead mother.]
Anything else?