[ He stands there, looking at Des for a long moment before he speaks again. ]
Let's move through the forest as we talk. If you don't mind the walking.
[ He brushes a little grass from his garment, a fine spun garment that seems neutral and simple, a garment that might have been worn either yesterday or a million years ago. His entire form is slightly bigger all over than a normal human, somewhere halfway between the creatures filled with light they were in heaven and the way they appeared to him on the roof; they fulfill every mythic promise of an angel, except that the dark wings remain diaphanous, retaining their shape under some sort of cloak of invisibility, more it seems for convenience than anything else. ]
Don't worry about the men and the women in the forest. They can't see us. No one here can see us, and for that reason we can keep our present forms. Azrael and I don't have to resort to the dark devilish bodies which He thinks are appropriate for earthly maneuvers, or even to Ordinary Men, which is our own unobtrusive choice.
[ Des' own hair is badly tangled, his clothes full of tiny specks of dust, and some grass from the garden, but otherwise he's unharmed. His shirt is torn at the collar, as if he had ripped it open hastily in an effort to breathe.
Even a casual inspection indicates that this is no rain forest, but something considerably less dense, yet as primitive. ]
We are watchers here but we affect nothing. We can affect nothing. This time has passed. Come, I know this terrain by heart, and if you follow me, you'll see what an easy path through this wilderness. I have much to tell you. Things around us will begin to change. Angels are invisible, by nature. That is, we are immaterial in terms of earth material, or the material of the physical universe, or however you would like to describe matter for yourself. But we do have an essential body; and we can gather to ourselves sufficient matter from a whole variety of sources to create for ourselves a complete and functioning form , which we can later shatter and disperse as we see fit.
What I'm saying is that this isn't a borrowed body, nor is it strictly speaking a contrived body. It's my body when surrounded and permeated with matter. In other words, it's the logical result of my essence drawing to it all the various materials it needs. We look this way because we look this way. The Devilish bodies are a penance - the horns, and so on. The Ordinary Men are a subterfuge. But this is what we look like. There were angels like us throughout Heaven. Your focus was mainly on mortal souls in Heaven. But the angels were there.
Other angels, Michael, Gabriel, any of those can appear in their glorified form on earth if they want to. Again, it would be natural. Matter being drawn to them by their magnetic force shapes them to look their most beautiful, the way God created them. But most of the time they don't let this happen. They go about as Ordinary Men or Ordinary Women, because it's simply much easier to do so. [ he glances back at des, with a wry hint of humor in his eyes ] Continuously overwhelming human beings do not serve our purposes - neither our Lord's nor mine.
no subject
Let's move through the forest as we talk. If you don't mind the walking.
[ He brushes a little grass from his garment, a fine spun garment that seems neutral and simple, a garment that might have been worn either yesterday or a million years ago. His entire form is slightly bigger all over than a normal human, somewhere halfway between the creatures filled with light they were in heaven and the way they appeared to him on the roof; they fulfill every mythic promise of an angel, except that the dark wings remain diaphanous, retaining their shape under some sort of cloak of invisibility, more it seems for convenience than anything else. ]
Don't worry about the men and the women in the forest. They can't see us. No one here can see us, and for that reason we can keep our present forms. Azrael and I don't have to resort to the dark devilish bodies which He thinks are appropriate for earthly maneuvers, or even to Ordinary Men, which is our own unobtrusive choice.
[ Des' own hair is badly tangled, his clothes full of tiny specks of dust, and some grass from the garden, but otherwise he's unharmed. His shirt is torn at the collar, as if he had ripped it open hastily in an effort to breathe.
Even a casual inspection indicates that this is no rain forest, but something considerably less dense, yet as primitive. ]
We are watchers here but we affect nothing. We can affect nothing. This time has passed. Come, I know this terrain by heart, and if you follow me, you'll see what an easy path through this wilderness. I have much to tell you. Things around us will begin to change. Angels are invisible, by nature. That is, we are immaterial in terms of earth material, or the material of the physical universe, or however you would like to describe matter for yourself. But we do have an essential body; and we can gather to ourselves sufficient matter from a whole variety of sources to create for ourselves a complete and functioning form , which we can later shatter and disperse as we see fit.
What I'm saying is that this isn't a borrowed body, nor is it strictly speaking a contrived body. It's my body when surrounded and permeated with matter. In other words, it's the logical result of my essence drawing to it all the various materials it needs. We look this way because we look this way. The Devilish bodies are a penance - the horns, and so on. The Ordinary Men are a subterfuge. But this is what we look like. There were angels like us throughout Heaven. Your focus was mainly on mortal souls in Heaven. But the angels were there.
Other angels, Michael, Gabriel, any of those can appear in their glorified form on earth if they want to. Again, it would be natural. Matter being drawn to them by their magnetic force shapes them to look their most beautiful, the way God created them. But most of the time they don't let this happen. They go about as Ordinary Men or Ordinary Women, because it's simply much easier to do so. [ he glances back at des, with a wry hint of humor in his eyes ] Continuously overwhelming human beings do not serve our purposes - neither our Lord's nor mine.