An Encounter At Blandine's

* March 31st, 2071. A typical Tuesday night on Blandine's side of the Marches.

* From out of the mists coalesces a dark-haired, muscular figure, who assesses his surroundings.

* The surroundings are familiar to the figure.... dreamscape-bubbles drift across the grey sands, sheparded by servitors of Dream... the occasional angel flies overhead on their duties, and the soothing balm that is Blandine's bright Tower rises in the distance.

* Ian nods, seeming to relax a bit, and heads toward the Tower.

* The way is unbarred, his path unchallenged save when he finally reaches the gate at the base of the Tower, where two Cherubim of Dream take notice of his approach and rise slightly, nodding their shaggy leonine heads at him, politely. One growls, "Grrrrrreatings."

{Ian} *bows a bit* Greetings, Guardians of Dreams. I humbly ask passage that I might report to my Bright Lord on my corporeal work.

* The second Lion-Cherub bows its head, and he and his choir-brother move back slightly. "And who asks passage, if I may be so bold?" he rumbles, though it's clearly well-meant, not derogatory.

{Ian takes no offense.} Ian, Virtue of Lighting. My apologies for not stating as such before.

{First Lion-Cherub} No apologies necessary, Virrrtue. *it seems to have a furry smile on his muzzle* Then enter and walk through with Hope, Ian...

{Second Lion-Cherub} ... And in Dreams, Virrrtue.

* The two Cherubim settle back on their haunches and fold their wings politely.

{Ian} *hehs a bit, looking wry* Walk in Illumination, Guardians. *steps through*

* The two Cherubim nod, and go back to keeping guard, while a reliever of Dream flies by to provide lunch and chat a bit.

* The interior of the Tower is still as Ian has seen before... a long ivory hall, permiated with the sensation of Hope and Dreams, with the bright beacon that is the Heavenly Tether at the far end.

* There seems, also, to be a few others in the Etherial section of the Tower, naturally.

* Ian makes his way toward the Tether, glancing about to see if any familiar faces are about.

* None yet, though one of the others in the tower seems to be looking at him oddly, his vessel-image's nearly white-blond hair almost glowing in the Tower's light.

* Ian notes the odd look and glances more in that direction.

* The man in question seems to be doing a certain looking-while-not looking thing, trying not to make things more obvious than they are. He is fair-complected, with fine shoulder-length hair caught back in a clasp, a uniformed build that can only be described as Seraphic, and a face fine-featured enough to almost be pretty if it wasn't for the look in the grey eyes and the taut power in his stance.

* Ian hrms, and steers more in the man's general direction while doing a bit of looking-while-not-looking himself.

* The man keeps there, still doing that looking not looking thing himself.

* Ian wanders closer, stopping at a respectable distance, and looking around some more.

* The other man...though likely not 'man' in the literal sense, given he's sans dreamscape in the Etherial realms, shrugs, looks moderately annoyed with himself, and fixes his gaze directly on Ian. {crisply} "Are you Ian of Lightning, by any chance?"

* Ian looks back, businesslike. "That would be me, yes. And you?"

{Man} Giri of the Sword. I've heard...a bit about you. {though Ian doesn't know it, he is trying to meet his eyes...}

{Ian} Ah. Is something needed of me? *he does make eye contact, as it happens*

## {^} rolled 3d6 = 9 (2 5 2).

* Giri can sense that Ian Needs to get his official business taken care of, to see if there's some way of being more efficient than he feels he is right now... and seeing any friends at all (chiefly Tina of course) would be pretty nice too...

## R-Type rolled 3d6 = 16 (6 4 6).

* Giri doesn't make any external sign to this information, but keeps looking at Ian with the kind of eyes that likely might make Ian glad that they're on the same side.

* Ian can discern nothing about Giri, and mentally sighs, chalking it up to his streak of poor luck lately.

* He does note that look, of course.

{Giri} Yes, actually, if you can spare the time?

{Ian} Certainly.

* Giri begins to walk in the direction of the Heaven tether. "A few questions?"

* Ian goes with. "Such as?"

* Giri keeps walking, neatly and with a soldier's precision. "The most important question to me personally first, I think." He takes a breath.

* Giri glances over. "What are your intentions towards my Sister?"

* Ian blinks a bit, pausing to parse that. "Ah... you mean Tiphareth?"

* yes, he briefly looked a bit derailed. pay it no mind, he recovered quickly.

* Giri nods slightly. "That would be her, yes." {faint trace of wryness}

{Ian} Ah, yes, well... my intention is to be a caring and devoted companion, something she seems to have a great need of. . o O (and vice-versa.)

* Giri nods slightly. "I see. And in the long term?"

* Ian scratches his head. "Long term? Well... the same, if she feels as much for me and the Almighty wills it."

* Giri might relax a bit. Maybe. "I see...."

* Ian can see the posture isn't exactly 100% favorable. "If there's a concern, friend, please tell me what it is."

* Giri hehs a bit. "A bit of...overprotectiveness I suppose. And old habits die hard. She's perhaps the most innocent of us in some ways, and..." {slight shrug, looks helpless}

* Ian softens a bit, offering a wry smile. "I can only pretend to understand the whole of it, of course. But I know I'd defend her with my existence, so I can understand at least a bit."

* Giri relaxes more. "...Good." {nods a bit}

{Ian} *quieter* I know I can't ever comprehend what it was like before... well, before. But I know it couldn't have been pleasant.

* Giri nods slightly. {somewhat reluctantly} "A bit of information. I killed for the War."

{Ian} Mm? *doesn't look accusing or annoyed, merely curious*

{Giri} Merely that. I killed for political purposes. Those who...offended my Prince.

{Ian} I see. *shrug* But you serve the Sword now, which is what matters.

* Giri shrugs as well, reaching the Tether. "True. But it was one of the pasts we've experienced, yes."

{Ian} Must find the time to speak with more Redeemed, if an opportunity presents. I usually deal with the opposite numbers. *wry look*

{Giri} You probably should, yes. You cannot understand the mind of the enemy if you don't find out how they think from those who have been there.

{Giri} And should we transfer?

{Ian} *nods* Point well taken. And yes, I believe we should.

* Giri nods, and transfers to Heaven.

* Ian transfers too.

* The Heavenly side of Blandine's Tower is as bright and open as ever.

* Ian vesseldrops and unfurls his wings, the brightness causing many purple sparkles.

* Giri does as well, no change where most would expect to see a Seraphic form uncoiling--except for the mirageish flicker of an aura around him, and the glinting shadow of two phantasmic wings that might be chrome and steel, or also a mirage as well...

* This, yes, does get the odd surprised glance from the occasional passing Servitor of Dream... both at the wings and aura, and at Giri's maleness. They do catch themselves and move on politely, though.

* Giri pretends not to notice, though does look slightly wry. The cuff of something metallic peeks from the sleeve of his uniform for a moment. "Another question, if it doesn't intrude on your business, Virtue?"

* Ian doesn't give a surprised glance, a bit more used to being around Bright Lilim as he is. "I'll let you know if it does... *pause* ...Bright Son, I suppose?" *wl*

* Giri looks wry. "Yes, for all purposes. The only one currently in existence. Mother was...surprised I preferred the male gender. seem to have some concerns on your efficiency. Is there any way I can aid with that?"

{Ian} Ah. Well... I seem to have been plagued by poor luck of late. Corporeally I see unsettling developments in my surroundings, and I've heard more than one Disturbance on the station I'm assigned to. But I never seem to be able to find the real source or get the kind of detail I wish to get in my resonations. Makes me feel as if I'm fighting with a blunt weapon. *looks somewhere between annoyed and faintly ashamed*

* Giri narrows his eyes, looking thoughtful. "Where are you currently stationed?"

* Ian hrms, presumably debating with himself about security issues, then shrugs a bit. "Citidas Station, near Saturn."

* Giri nods, slightly, looking more thoughtful. "If it's possible for me, I can send a query to see which of ours are out there. Heaven's in general and the Sword's in specific. And how so unsettling?"

{Ian} That might be beneficial, yes. And as far as unsettling... there are suggestions that some of the humans there are doing research my Superior would not approve of. I can suspect Technology all I want, but I keep failing to get the proof I need.

{Giri} ...I see. {looks focused} I'll see what can be done, from my end. Having Hell make inroads in that isolated a sector...isn't good. For either us, or humanity.

* Giri mantles hazy glinting wings as he walks, making them a cloak of mirage.

* Ian nods. "It's prime ground for Technology to try moving against Lightning. But I can't shake the feeling there's more to it than that."

{Giri} In what manner, do you have an idea?

{Ian} I'm really not sure. In the Disturbances there's sometimes a feeling of... emptiness. Makes me want to... escape from the place.

* Giri listens, his demeanor changing from focused, to "focused with an attitude of 'oh shit' underneath it" as Ian goes on with his description.

{Giri} {q} The Void. {says this hushedly, and very furtively}

{Ian} That part about wanting to run is what disturbs me the most-- *pause* The Void?

* Giri nods, very slightly. "Yes. I suspect. I pray to God it isn't true, but the feeling you describe is too close. How much do you know of the Void, Virtue?"

## R-Type rolled 3d6 = 12 (6 2 4).

{Ian} I know of Mariel. I know her forces have been encroaching on human space work. Beyond that, I only know rumors.

{Giri} Yes. She was...reborn. No thanks in good part to Vapula. And this time, with the Word of the Void instead of Oblivion. Her Servitors' main effort is to terrorize and discourage humanity from efforts into space--squash their desire to leave Earth even as they barely leave the cradle. {pause} A lot of the information the Lord Commander and Lord Michael have gotten about her came from your lover shortly after she Redeemed, you know.

{Ian} Indeed... it would explain a great many things, if their forces are acting in concert out there...

{Giri} Yes. It's my guess, anyway. And I hope it's wrong.

{Ian} *q* Definitely must report this, and redouble my efforts to find proof.

{Giri} {q} I wish you luck then. And you should likely keep in contact with your Superior.

{Ian} *q* Agreed. Very important to do so.

{Giri} {q} Then go. And I will see what I can do on my end, and bring it to the Lord General's attention if possible.

{Ian} *q* I shall. Thank you for the information, Bright Son of the Sword. I know it can only help our cause.

* Giri inclines his head. {q} "You're welcome, Virtue. And I need to attend to my affairs. Until later?"

{Ian} *nods* "Until later, then. Walk in Illumination."

{Giri} Walk in Honor.

* Giri explodes from the ground in a flurry of wings, already reaching for the skies of Heaven before Ian can blink, his wings scything through the air falcon-like.

* Ian watches him go for a moment, before turning on his heel and making for the Halls of Progress, with a deadly serious stride suited to a Malakite.

* The steel blur arcs overhead, then makes a line for the distant steeples of the Cathedral of the Sword and the Halls of Worship.

* And as the two angels head off on their individual missions of report, we Fade.

In Nomine 2070