Part 15 - Tea

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The boy02/03/2020

Regular meets with Virgil was something Able started looking forward to. Able got to ask some burning questions and Virgil got to keep tabs on the Bandaged man from a more palatable distance. This was their third meet, and Able wanted to know more about what Virgil knew about devils and various saints. Even with some uncomfortable prodding on his own lifestyle it stayed moderately pleasant. Able was enjoying himself. Though he would possibly enjoy himself more if he didn't keep noticing the overtly obvious signs of being spied on by both the Bandaged man... and Thomas. He looked embarrassed more than anything by their clear lack of subtlety. Able tried to ignore it best he could, sipping at his drink, making a face before setting it back down.

Able: Ah, I still don't like tea I think.

they02/03/2020

The deacon drinks from their teacup, lowering it.

Virgil: Mh, I'm sure if you try again next week, the fourth time will be much more pleasant. I'm certain of it..

The boy02/03/2020

Able puts another sugar cube into his tea, stirring before trying again.

Able: Hm.. Well its certainly more palatable than without sugar. At any rate, I was wondering, about devils that is.

***

they02/03/2020

The deacon (dressed in their Sunday best, i.e. their casual black robe and silvered sunglasses) sets the teacup down onto the table and leans back.

Virgil: About devils generally, or about me?.

The boy02/03/2020

Able: A little of both. I'm sure not all I've heard is truthful. Rumor is very tricky like that.

Able thinks a bit, tapping the side of his cup.

they02/03/2020

The deacon taps the side of their glasses.

Virgil: I can give you answers about Hell, but I make no promises as to the truthfulness of answers about me.

The boy02/03/2020

Able hums a bit in thought.

Able: Well, personally I was wondering, devils have fangs, right? Is it difficult to keep clean? Ah.. I apologise if this is a bit too personal.

they02/03/2020

The deacon stares at Able.

Virgil: . . .typically, when one inquires about devils, they ask about if Hell is real, or if devils torture the sinful, or the like. I've never had a question about dental bothers.

The deacon picks up their teacup.

Virgil: The answer is. . .a toothbrush. Perhaps a strangely bristled toothbrush, but its just a toothbrush.

The boy02/03/2020

Able sighs, looking a little relieved that he doesn't have to imagine some kind of horrifying device.

Able: Ah, well, some people fear death.. Some fear decay. It is all a matter of which comes first.

Able looks off to the side a bit, briefly distracted.

Able: I suppose you would have them too, hm?

they02/03/2020

Virgil: Not quite as impressive as you may imagine, but yes.

The deacon sips from their tea.

Virgil: Forgive me if I don't decide to poke at my teeth like a fidgeting child to prove it to you.

The boy02/03/2020

Able: I would much prefer it if you didn't, actually. I've been harassed enough by fangs in various incidents.

Able sighs.

Able: I do have a question about you, though. What church do you typically offer service at?

they02/03/2020

The deacon lowers their teacup.

Virgil: In London, I have a church at the end of Ladybones Road, closer to Wilmot's End than the Labyrinth. A small church, but it's mine, and for that I'm thankful. Virgil: In the Iron Republic, I have a temporary church.

The deacon sips.

Virgil: Temporary only because I'm not there. I have an excellent will and can keep it tangible and unchanging.

The boy02/03/2020

Able: I guess it's no wonder then that we ran into each other. I suppose I can now give that area a wide birth as to not interfere with your daily affairs.

Able looks down at his teacup.

Able: I don't suppose you have any deep burning questions about the thief, mh?.

they02/03/2020

Virgil: Other than the questions of how you ended up down here with a soul like yours, only a few.

The deacon drinks from their teacup, setting it down with a clink.

Virgil: Is your name actually Able, or is that a name given to you by the church?

The boy02/03/2020

Able: Oh, that. Ah it's a name I gave myself, I thought Abner was a bit too.... Formal? I suppose more legally speaking its not my name, but I prefer it over the alternative.

Able absentmindedly stirs the tea. It was already getting cold.

they02/03/2020

Virgil: I thought as much; Able doesn't seem an appropriate name for someone like you.

The deacon gives a faint smile, grabbing their teacup again.

Virgil: A little bureaucratic secret; if you ever find yourself in the situation of needing to make a contract with my coevals, a secondary name doesn't count as a formal signature.

The deacon sips.

Virgil: It'll only work once; they'll record your alias in the Brass Embassy after that, and they'll be much more ferocious in figuring out your other names. . .but I'd keep that in mind..

The boy02/03/2020

Able: That is a very useful bit of information. Hm.

Able tilts his head a bit, looking at the deacon. He smiles a bit.

Able: Oh, yes, a small question, a bit of a rumor I'd heard long ago about devils that sounds a bit... Off? If you'd be comfortable with answering, that is.

Able looks at his teacup, trying to figure out how to word himself.

Able: From the sun, then below, the church describes you as fallen angels, but it sounds.... silly?

they02/03/2020

The deacon pauses, lowering the teacup from their lips.

Virgil: That is merely a story that descends from the biblical story of Lucifer being a fallen angel, which is further based on. . .the former ruler of Hell falling from disgrace. At least, in the Neath translations of the holy texts.

The deacon lowers their teacup, and palms a sugar cube.

Virgil: Actual devils in London are bees.

The deacon drops the sugar cube into their teacup, using their provided spoon to stir it in.

.

The boy02/03/2020

Able blinks, staring at the deacon, finding it hard to see if he was joking. He had to be right?

Able: . . .Ah.. Bees?

Able is imagining a very large bee, and then imagines many bees.

Able: As in.... Bees...? Plural...?

they02/03/2020

Virgil: Singular, and one-to-one. A single devil is a single, large bee; most of the ones you see in London are merely wearing a shell of paper held together with lamplighter beeswax and Parabolean plant fibers, including yours truly.

The deacon raises their teacup to their lips, and sips.

Virgil: Mh. . .I will not talk any more about this.

The boy02/03/2020

Able nods, understanding it might be a bit of a private subject to talk about ones own anatomy.

Able: Ah, of course. I apologize if that was too personal.

Able does keep thinking about it though. He wonders if it was comfortable, in a shell? Or perhaps it was merely a politeness. Able seems a bit distracted, looking down at his tea, and then drinks a little.

Able: Ah, right, still tea.

they02/03/2020

The deacon lowers his head, looking at Able's teacup.

Virgil: Yes, it's still tea. Tell me, why do you keep ordering it when you know you don't like it?

Meanwhile, two buildings away, the bandaged man is leaning over the lip of the rooftop a perilous distance (held back only by the force of their knees against the walls surrounding the rooftop); he is holding a strange set of glasses with many, many lenses with hinges on the frames against his eyes, and peering at the group of people eating outside of Caligula's.

The Bandaged: -Squinting; wheezing.- I. . .I think I see him. . .one of the lenses are cracked, but it works for now. . .

The boy02/03/2020

Thomas is leaning hard into the bandaged man, squinting where the bandaged man is looking. He grabs at the man's arm, jostling him lightly.

Thomas: What are they doing? Is he ok?

they02/03/2020

The bandaged man adjusts the lenses on their eyes, flipping them back and forth repeatedly as he focuses onto the group and leans forward just a bit more, his grip slipping against the railing of the rooftop.

The Bandaged: -Strained.- I think I see him. . .uh, he's drinking tea with Virgil. . .does Able even drink tea?.

The boy02/03/2020

Thomas is pushing into the bandaged man even more, gripping tighter. A little panicked.

Thomas: No, Able never liked tea. Oh hell is he being forced to stay and talk until he slips up? What if he accidentally makes another deal.

Thomas looks very worried now.

they02/03/2020

The bandaged man leans forward a bit more, fiddling with their lens contraption.

The Bandaged: Hold on, let me look at his lips and see if he's voicing something like, "Oh, deacon, you can have my soul for fr"- acK!

The bandaged man lost their grip against the railing and almost falls over the rooftop's edge, screeching loudly; the only reason they don't fall is because Thomas held a fast grip on them, but, even with his assistance, the bandaged man is hanging over the edge.

The Bandaged: Oh God! Pull me back, put me back!!

The screeching reverberates down the street; while not loud enough to make anyone want to leave, several guests as Caligula's lift their gaze upwards, wondering where that noise is coming from.

.

The boy02/03/2020

Able is trying to avert his gaze from the very obvious scene Thomas and the Bandaged man is making. He looks incredibly embarrassed, hunching over a bit.

Able: I am so sorry about those two. I tried to tell them I was fine.

they02/03/2020

Virgil: I suspect that they're concerned because, presumably, you lost your composure at the first meeting and are merely mirroring how you felt; surely, if you were concerned before, you should be now. Excuse me. . .

The deacon turns around in their seat, looking behind them and up towards the rooftop that the bandaged man and Thomas were hiding out on (though now there's no one in clear view), before facing back towards Able.

Virgil: . . .there. I figure they'll hide themselves for a moment, lest they be. . ."discovered.".

The boy02/03/2020

Able laughs a bit. He supposes it would be that simple, they seemed to have a poor sense of when they were discovered, let alone hiding in the first place.

Able: I sure hope so.

Able looks at his tea, the cup feels cool to the touch.

Able: Do you.... actually enjoy souls?

Able asks bluntly.

they02/03/2020

The deacon pauses.

Virgil: . . .I'm a devil. What do you think?

The boy02/03/2020

Able looks up at the deacon.

Able: I think you are a man with more reason to do something, than merely being a devil.

they02/03/2020

Virgil: Ah, that's much more interesting.

The deacon grabs their teacup.

Virgil: Well, I do enjoy souls in the same way devils do; in wine, in sherry. . .alone, drawn directly from the bottle. Drawn directly from a person, if one's charismatic enough to get close enough. . .

The deacon drinks from their teacup, swallowing a bit more tea than usual before setting their teacup down with a clink.

Virgil: Mh. . .if you're asking if I have appetite. . . Virgil: . . .always. There's always appetite..

The boy02/03/2020

Able thinks for a bit.

Able: You must have a lot of self control then.

He seems a bit more at ease with this information. Perhaps he was a good man. At least Able was fairly sure of it at this point.

they02/03/2020

Virgil: I have more self control than my fellow devils. That doesn't mean I rival the saints in their patience and asceticism.

The deacon taps the sides of their sunglasses.

Virgil: Lenses help; they obscure the quality of a soul, and serve to make it look less appetizing. Not perfectly, of course. . .but enough in most cases.

The deacon rubs the rim of their teacup.

Virgil: It's also convenient that the procuring of souls is rather bureaucratic. . .mostly. While I'm implored to take souls to the Brass Embassy in any manner I can. . .it's a good excuse to restrain myself if there's rules and contracts I can follow.

The deacon moves their hand to the side of the teacup, palming it for a moment.

Virgil: . . .I've slipped before, however. I'm not infallible..

The boy02/03/2020

Able: Well of course, no one is. I think most people though would likely try to hide those flaws, however.

Able tilts his head just a bit, his brow furrowing.

Able: It is very good that you've found a way to keep that under control most times, let alone at all. I find it, admirable honestly.

Able looks away sighing, frowning.

Able: I often wished that I had that sort of control, especially growing up. I think maybe I wasn't restrained enough for the church, I did tend to get into trouble quite often.

Able laughs a bit sadly.

they02/03/2020

The deacon chuckles quietly.

Virgil: Don't admire a devil, least not aloud. You'll be looked down upon by your headmistress. . .relatedly, how was your upbringing at that church? I recall you calling that building "home.".

The boy02/03/2020

Able looks up, smiling a bit.

Able: She doesn't need much reason to look down on me, deacon.

Able thinks about it a bit, wondering how much he wants to say.

Able: It was, fine. I think perhaps I make it out to be a bit more horrid than it was most times. I was fed and clothed, and taught various lessons on how to be proper.

they02/03/2020

The deacon ponders.

Virgil: I believe I can say this safely, as I'm not in my robes. . .your headmistress sounds like a stiff matriarch. Virgil: Your experiences seem rather similar to most of my own council. Granted, they're a more singular sort; they must be, seeking holy redemption from a devil, but. . .it seems to be universal that the church is uncomfortable but palatable.

The boy02/03/2020

Able sits up suddenly, staring blankly at the deacon with a surprised look before laughing, a bit too loudly. He quickly covers his mouth, stifling himself, but still snickering quite a bit.

Able: You would be right!

He snickers, before stopping himself, but seems to keep grinning.

Able: Ah..... Goodness... well it is a fairly strict environment to grow up in, but you get used to it.

they02/03/2020

The deacon quietly chuckles.

Virgil: Ah, you should see the sort of restrictions one has when you're the antithesis of the church's teachings. You wouldn't believe the sort of mandates I had to agree to when becoming a deacon.

The deacon smiles, a bit more than usual as they lift a teacup to their lips, draining it.

Virgil: Mh. . .of course, they forgot to make sure that it was permanent, and not merely when I wear my robes.

The boy02/03/2020

Able leans in jus a bit, very amused.

Able: Oh? Getting in trouble when out and about?

Able leans back again. Sighing.

Able: Goodness me. I haven't laughed that hard in a while.

they02/03/2020

The deacon sets their empty teacup down onto its saucer.

Virgil: I don't get into trouble. Criminals, devils, and priests find me. I'll make no comment about how I dealt with it.

The deacon leans forward, resting their arms on the table.

The boy02/03/2020

Able smiles, his tea getting cold as usual. This wasn't odd, considering previous meets.

Able: Well I will respect your privacy, even if I'm a bit curious. Able: Hm, I wonder, do you think there would be a more, ah, less troublesome spot to meet at? The company is lovely, but the... extra eyes..

Able looks towards the building the bandaged and Thomas were on, then looks back at the deacon.

Able: It is a bit distracting.

they02/03/2020

Virgil: I'm assuming Dante's Grill won't be considered. . .shame, really; the food there is quite good. If you're willing, we could have a meeting at my church, unless you feel uncomfortable about being near your childhood home.

Meanwhile, on the rooftops, the bandaged man is lying on the ground and up in the corner, having handed the lens set to Thomas; they're rubbing their eyes, groaning.

The Bandaged: God, forcing one's pupils to dilate hurts after a while. . .hff, I need to make changes to those sigils. Please, tell me you see good news. . .is Able shaking his head, or something? Getting away?

The boy02/03/2020

Thomas is holding the device, trying to focus on Able.

Thomas: He..... looks like he's... talking. I think? He's making a very odd face, like he's frowning?

Thomas sighs, miffed.

Thomas: Honestly! How could you allow this to happen in the first place? He can't be that difficult to keep out of trouble!

they02/03/2020

The bandaged man raises their hand, affronted.

The Bandaged: How was I supposed to know he could open doors without difficulty!? And that he would make deals so nonchalantly and without consideration! He's daft, but I usually have confidence in him!

The boy02/03/2020

Thomas pulls the device away from his face and looks at the bandaged man. Thomas is making an audible face of "Why"

Thomas: Had you considered maybe locks?

they02/03/2020

The bandaged man gasps, clutching their chest.

The Bandaged: -Incredulous.- Because the windows have no aesthetically pleasing places for locks! I'm not going to ruin my interior design just to keep him going outside!

The boy02/03/2020

Thomas: Well then he's going to get outside then!

Thomas gestures wildly, annoyed.

they02/03/2020

The bandaged man snorts.

The Bandaged: Pah! Nonsense, he's my pupil; if I've taught him anything, it's to listen to rules.

The bandaged man pauses, before their facial bandages shift.

The Bandaged: -Shocked.- . . .he's outside right now. . .oh no. . .I. . .am I a bad mentor?

The boy02/03/2020

Thomas stares at the bandaged, unamused.

Thomas: You're a mentor, at least.

Meanwhile Able is looking concerned, thinking very hard about his options.

Able: While I'd not... Enjoy.. being constantly given hungry looks, I suppose we can make it a rare occasion to go to Dante's. The church would be a bit more acceptable, I don't think many folks would think I'd go there. Hmm...

***

they02/04/2020

The deacon sits back in their chair.

Virgil: Come now, it'll be pleasant. I promise that you won't lose your soul for an extended period of time the next time we head to Dante's. . .there; you have the word of a devil now. Reassuring, I'm sure.

A scream echoes out from a rooftop two buildings over. . .

The Bandaged: -Distant.- I'm a failure as a teach-!

. . .before being cut off with a strained screech. It should be indicative of London life that not as many people look upwards, save for some of the younger men and woman having their social evening at Caligula's.

Virgil: . . .perhaps you shouldn't mention that you've made a deal next time. Technically, they're not infernally binding. . .but, then, you wouldn't be able to leave, I'm supposing?

The boy02/04/2020

Able winces, and laughs nervously.

Able: It would be very difficult to leave the spire without a fuss. Ah though, I suppose if my soul is in your hands it might be a bit more safe. Maybe.

Able smiles a bit, unsure, but willing to take a bit of a risk if he can have a bit more of a quiet talk with the deacon.

Able: As long as it's returned shortly after I think I can allow it.

they02/04/2020

The deacon sits back.

Virgil: You really ought to avoid using metaphorical language like that; I might almost be tempted to take it literally and have your soul in my hands.

The deacon slides their teacup aside, waving politely for a staff of Caligula's to come over and take his empty teacup and Able's full and cold tea.

Virgil: A meeting at Dante's will be grand, however. As usual then; would you like to meet at Dante's, next Sunday?

The boy02/04/2020

Able jumps a bit, surprised. Though he was right, he should be more careful.

Able: Oh, right! Ah... Yes, next Sunday would be lovely.