there's a fire in your eyes

[crucifriction.livejournal.com]

WHO: Azrael and you.
WHERE: City streets.
WHEN: The night of December 9th.
WARNINGS: Violence; others will be added as they occur.
SUMMARY: His desire has filled and burst. And all Michael wants now is to be the City’s God.
FORMAT: You choose.

I want to be seen as God.

The thought festered within him for years, blasphemous. To even think it, much less let it grace his lips, much less actually believe it. As a pious altar boy, he had brought it up in the confessional multiple times. But the lack of absolution brought him to only stick the desire to the back of his mind, with the knowledge that it would inevitably worsen. Become more tangible.

A thousand voices rise from a chorus of whispers to a cacophony of cries.

Now. One moment, he's sitting watchful on a rooftop, thoughtful. The next, what could only be described as revelation, a breakdown of irrationally built walls, flaring into a bright, pure yearning. Even the recent corruption that had plagued him is ignored, in favor of this. This need for devotion.

I WILL BE SEEN AS GOD HIMSELF.

The concrete should bend under his righteous feet as he dashes across the streets, the roofs, in search of disciples and sinners alike.

Comments

[crucifriction.livejournal.com]

Ghost is the only one who, when he immediately spots, forces him to consider turning back. It's a weak, decidedly human response that the current outer shell of him finds troubling, finds vulnerable. Ghost is a virtuous being, says the old part of his mind. But he's still a being says the other. Still, he steadily approaches, tone shifted from righteous to nearly meek.

"Ghost," he finds himself quietly saying behind him, having lost fervor. "I've found you."

[hacktivist]

"Had I known you were looking, I would have made myself more easily found." He glanced over, indicating the spot next to him on the air conditioning unit overlooking the City. "How goes your crusade?"

[crucifriction.livejournal.com]

"It goes." The answer feels unsatisfying on his tongue, falling flatly in the air. He tries again:

"I've done much today, Ghost. The City is in great need of its God."