samuraiprosecutor (
samuraiprosecutor) wrote in
boxolawyers2012-07-19 05:13 pm
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[RL] Because these two had to talk
He couldn’t have said what possessed him to do it. Prayers hadn’t crossed his lips or mind since he was nine years old. Even prior to that praying had been more of habit than an act of belief. So it was especially strange when, in the deepest depths of his nocturnal Hell, fueled by several holiday-induced weeks worth of nightmares and exhausted by a near-deficit of sleep, his desperate thoughts turned to the angel.
'Even you,' some rebellious corner of his mind cried. 'If you could take all of this away I might even worship you, you sanctimonious prick.'
He regretted the thought the moment he thought it. He was disgusted by the very idea of praying to some unfeeling, self-righteous tyrant or any other being that thought themselves above him. Doing something so damnably foolish helped to drag him from that moment of extreme weakness. Chest aching, he rolled over in bed, curled in on himself and struggled to control his haggard breathing. At least he could take comfort in the fact that only he would ever know how pathetically low he had sunk.
'Even you,' some rebellious corner of his mind cried. 'If you could take all of this away I might even worship you, you sanctimonious prick.'
He regretted the thought the moment he thought it. He was disgusted by the very idea of praying to some unfeeling, self-righteous tyrant or any other being that thought themselves above him. Doing something so damnably foolish helped to drag him from that moment of extreme weakness. Chest aching, he rolled over in bed, curled in on himself and struggled to control his haggard breathing. At least he could take comfort in the fact that only he would ever know how pathetically low he had sunk.
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But the angel’s proclamation did leave one question. Edgeworth finally sat up and leaned back against the headboard, bringing his knees up to his chest. He gave Castiel a quizzical look. “Then why did you bother coming?”
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At this distance, Edgeworth might be able to catch the scent of liquor practically leaking from the angel's skin.
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"Good God. Did you fall in a still on your way over?"
Tact was a tool reserved for people with the luxury of a full night's sleep behind them.
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“Isn’t the consumption of alcohol rather…contrary to God’s edicts? Or is that yet another thing the faithful got wrong?” Not that Edgeworth had any objections to drinking. The fully stocked bar and wine cabinet in his living room was testimony of his tacit approval of the habit, at least in general. What he did object to was hypocrisy, and an angel indulging in a ‘sin’ certainly seemed to qualify.
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"God doesn't care, anymore." His voice was rough.