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Faith Protects, Kevlar Helps (IC)


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Gabriel dutifully gathered up the twenty pounds, positioning it so it would be as easy as possible to carry.

"Breastplate, huh? Sounds like I'm going to end up with the full set. Just wait until my old Sunday School teacher hears."

As Heyzel describes the differences between now and then in Vanity Fair, Gabriel quirked an eyebrow.

"Hm. Human nature's human nature, but that's nice to hear. Mankind's never been perfect or free from evil, but I can believe things have changed for the better. People just have to make the choice to change."

He trudged along the path for a while in silence.

"It does make me wonder why they didn't change the name, though."

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"Branding," replied the angel with a smile. Within seconds, they were gone from their location and in the heart of a mighty marketplace that seemed to stretch on forever: Carson could see hawkers, merchants, businessmen, and traders from a thousand cultures stretching out in a bazaar that went far beyond his ability to see, even his incredible ability to hear. "This is Vanity Fair, the marketplace of marketplaces!" shouted the angel as he led the way through the crowd over the noise of haggling merchants, murmuring tourists, and cheerful entertainers. "There may be larger marketplaces along the Cosmic Coil, but they tend to have wares no righteous man would ever seek to purchase."

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It took Carson a moment to adjust to the rapid shift, the sights, sounds, and smells almost overwhelming him. He gave a laugh as Heyzel described the place as "the marketplace of marketplaces".

"Seems like this place improved over time. Perhaps that's what the Good News is Good for?"

He looked around a bit more, shifting the burden of the metal bars he was carrying.

"Is there someone in particular we're going to be looking for?"

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  • 2 weeks later...

Freedom Angel led Gabriel to a little stall labeled "Eli's Metals" manned by a well-dressed man in fine red robes that bore the marks of hard use despite their finery. "Eligius, good day," said the angel with a cordial bow and smile for a man who was evidently an old friend. "How fares the finest metal worker in the Heavens?"

"Oh, I do well enough," said Eli with a big smile, looking from face to face between Heyzel and Gabriel, a French accent coloring his words slightly. He hefted the hammer in his hands. "What can I do for the son of Jeanne and Azreal?"

"I bring a friend who needs your guidance," said Heyzel, stepping back. "Tell him what you need."

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Carson sighed in relief as they reached the stall. While he wasn't a complainer, these iron bars weren't exactly light. He found a clear spot in the stall and gently set the metal down, wiping a bit of sweat off his forehead. He offered the man in red a smile and a respectful nod of his head.

"It's an honor to meet you, sir. As for why I'm here...Well, Heyzel brought me to...this place..."

He gestured with his arms, indicating the market and the world beyond.

"Which, let me tell you, is something else for sure. Anyways. We came here so I could acquire some gear to better help me defend the innocent, fight evil, and so on. We got these iron bars a bit back, and he thinks they'll make a great breastplate. I'm not really sure what to do myself, so I'd appreciate any help you can give."

Suddenly, something clicked and he turned to face Heyzel.

"Wait, Azrael? Your dad is the Angel of Death?"

Carson's eyes were wide.

"Wow. Talk about children of celebrities...Sorry."

He shakes his head, an embarassed blush on his face as he looks at both men.

"Shall we get on with it, sir?"

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"I can help you," promised the saint. "A godly armor for a godly man." He took the bars, marveling at their workmanship, and promised to have breastplate smithed for Gabriel within the hour: far beyond the ability of any mortal craftsman, of course, but they were far beyond the realms of mortals now. When the trade was done, Heyzel walked with Gabriel through the busy streets. He was the only angel Gabriel could make out on the streets of Vanity Fair, but evidently beings like his friend were well-known enough here at the edge of Heaven that he attracted no special attention.

"Yes, my father is the one mortals have dubbed the Angel of Death," he said after a moment's pause. "I saw him little while I was growing up, busy as he ever was with his important work. But he was a good father despite all that. He's always loved children, you know."

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Carson was indeed amazed at the promised speed, but he supposed this place was as much metaphor as it was anything. Time likely held much less meaning here.

"Just a man trying to be godly, sir. Nothing more."

The red-headed man followed his friend, casting his gaze around this place, taking it all in.

"Hm. Well, I suppose that answers questions about angels having gender and such. I'm glad to hear he was good; I'm sure his...work...does keep him busy. I can believe he loves children; I think most all people with a good heart have at least a soft spot for them, though not all of us are called to deal with large numbers for regular periods of time."

He shrugged, before a curious look crossed his face.

"If you don't mind my asking, who is your mother? Would I know her from history, or just someone your father fell in love with?"

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"My mother was known as Jeanne while she lived in France in the 1400s, with no last name but that of her home village. She is something of a celebrity on Earth for her deeds as a saint and warrior, but ever have I heard her give the fame and respect to others for the victories won under her name. She would prefer you make nothing of her deeds and words, should you meet." He hmmed, studying the wares of the clothworker who he faced, and raised an eyebrow at Gabriel. "If I were human, Carson, I think I might be offended." He smiled faintly. "Angels do possess all the genders of man, woman, and otherwise. And on Earth, many of the same drives."

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Carson blinks as Heyzel's mother is described to him, before recognition sets in.

"Indeed? Truly, an interesting family you come from."

At his next comments, Carson's face grew a bit worried and sad.

"I did not mean to offend you, Heyzel. It is just that such things as the exact nature of angels isn't something the Bible or other texts dwell on. There are bits and hints, but no anatomical treatises. And it's not like I was going to, ah, check for sure. I didn't want to offend by asking, I guess you could say. Just not something that I felt needed to be talked about one way or the other. Still, it's knowledge. I'll keep it in mind for the future."

He gives his friend a slight smile.

"Considering several mentions of angels in the Bible seem to defy anatomy or the like, with pillars and wheels and too many limbs and eyes, I try not to take too much for granted with the angelic hosts."

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  • 2 weeks later...

As they walked, Heyzel did his best to explain the world of angels to the mortal man. He spoke of the ancient chorus that stretched back to the beginning of time, the various messengers who had once gone to Earth wrapped in fire and flame, their limbs in a hundred directions at once. "Much there has been, ah, misinterpreted. As Hindu artists showed the beings they worship with a hundred limbs as a metaphor, so too did the ancient Israelites depict the messengers of Yahweh as other-than-human to show their otherworldly nature." By the time they had circled back around, the smith had indeed finished crafting his armor for Gabriel and with modest pride (if such a thing could be said to exist) presented it to the godly hero.

"The finest work I can give a man who'll be going back to the mortal realm before this day is out," said the saint with a smile. "If you were going to stay and join the heavenly host, I could armor you to fight all the divine creatures of Creation."

"Gabriel still has several decades before that day comes," the angel reassured the saint. "What you have will do. Now, I think we have but one more thing to find..."

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As they walked, Heyzel did his best to explain the world of angels to the mortal man. He spoke of the ancient chorus that stretched back to the beginning of time, the various messengers who had once gone to Earth wrapped in fire and flame, their limbs in a hundred directions at once. "Much there has been, ah, misinterpreted. As Hindu artists showed the beings they worship with a hundred limbs as a metaphor, so too did the ancient Israelites depict the messengers of Yahweh as other-than-human to show their otherworldly nature."
Carson shrugged.

"I always figured it was a combination of someone trying to describe something they had little context for, and not all angels looking like winged humanoids. Winged humanoids aren't bad, mind you. I just figured there were other types. That, or that some of you guys can change shapes. Suppose it doesn't really matter the exact number of limbs..."

By the time they had circled back around, the smith had indeed finished crafting his armor for Gabriel and with modest pride (if such a thing could be said to exist) presented it to the godly hero.

"The finest work I can give a man who'll be going back to the mortal realm before this day is out," said the saint with a smile. "If you were going to stay and join the heavenly host, I could armor you to fight all the divine creatures of Creation."

"Gabriel still has several decades before that day comes," the angel reassured the saint. "What you have will do. Now, I think we have but one more thing to find..."

Carson gave a broad smile as he accepted the armor. He began putting it on over the simple shirt and pants he was already clothed in, speaking as he did so.

"Heyzel's right. I've still got a few years left in me yet, if I have anything to say about it. Still. I'll keep you in mind, sir. You can be sure I'll come calling for an upgrade when the time comes. Don't see a reason to sit on my behind when I come up here. Anyways."

He had finally completed putting on his armor, the helmet sliding easily over his masked faced. He smiled at the saintly smith one more time. On instinct, he concentrated, the armor suddenly being replaced with a ring. He cycled through it again, ending with him wearing a ring and some basic clothes once more.

"This is good stuff. Thank you again."

He turned to face Hezyel, the armor tucked away safely for now, curiosity on his face.

"What else are we looking for?"

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  • 2 weeks later...

Weapons came next, that being a resource available in abundance to the armies of Heaven. Heavenly warfare had never been a particular interest of Heyzel, for all like all angels he'd warred against demons and the pagan pantheons plenty in his own time. And so it was that the wonders of Heaven's arsenal, most of whom were for sale at cost to the holy pilgrims and customers at Vanity Fair, were as impressive to him as the hobbies of parents usually are to a child whose personal desires and goals went elsewhere,. Somewhat distractedly, he led Gabriel through a field of weapons dealers and merchants, treating spectacular wonders like the gigantic steel lion breathing holy fire and the never-ending storm (carefully sealed on one side of the path) to wash away all wretched sinners as the old hat they were. Finally, they reached another smithy, one worked by a one-eyed man with a short beard and crooked teeth. "Ah, Prossetti, hello! I have a client for you."

The smith peered up at Gabriel and said, "You look like a man who need a weapon forged in the all-blessed fires of Creation!"

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Carson nearly ran into Heyzel when he stopped, avoiding it mostly through an incredibly brief application of his ability to fly. He shook his head to clear it, still not entirely believing what he'd seen.

'That looked like an angel driving a giant robot!'

He turned to face Prossetti and gave him a smile and a hand to shake.

"It's an honor to meet you, sir."

At the smith's statement, Carson gave a shrug.

"I suppose so, yes. Preferably something that I have the option of inflicting...less permanent wounds with. Not against the likes of demons, mind you, but if it came to it and I had to use it against a mortal, you see...Anyways. Did either of you have anything in mind?"

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The smith produced what turned out to be a tremendous spear for Gabriel, a mighty weapon worthy of Longuinus or (rather more likely under the circumstances!) a mighty warrior-angel. He demonstrated its use at length to the doughty human warrior, showing how its tip could burn with the unquenchable fires of truth, or how it could compact itself down to something that looked very much like a trumpet. "Heh-heh, it fits your name well enough, seeing as who I made the first one for!" Prosetti scratched his bearded chin and added, "Things might get a little unpredictable if you do take it to Earth. Best be on your guard in case of...surprises! Heh-heh-heh!"

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Carson picked up the weapon and tested it, slowly swinging it around a bit, as well as testing the "trumpet form"; he blew a few experimental notes through that, and smiled.

"Very nice. Especially since I'm not usually one for fisticuffs or the like. Hm. It feels like the spear knows what it's doing; as if it's somewhat guiding my attacks. That feature is much appreciated, as is this."

It was a trumpet again. Suddenly, almost without thinking, he twitched his hand, and was wearing a heavy steel ring on his right middle finger. He blinked at his hand, then grinned at the smith.

"That, too, is an appreciated feature. Between this and my "watch", I'll never have to worry about carrying a costume bag again!"

He reached over to shake the man's hand.

"I'm grateful, and honored, especially considering you did work for my namesake. I'll keep the unpredictability in mind."

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When the deed was done and the godly Gabriel equipped for holy war, the angel and human returned to the Earth as easily as stepping through a door summoned through the air itself. "I'm afraid the Gates of Pearl are not open to living mortals," replied the angel as they stepped back into his church as if they'd never left it at all, "at least, not open to mortals who come on business as light as ours." He hmmed, studying the newly-minted Gabriel, and said, "Yes, that seems a fine armor for you. You'll need it in the days that are to come." He fluffed his wings, looking for a moment like an unsettled bird with a shiny chest rather than an angel. "There is peril in the world, Gabriel, and those who fight it in His name carry a double legacy. Be mindful that the armor you wear was once a prison."

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