sirenspull_logs | From the day we arrive on the planet

Entry tags:

magneto,
zachariah

From the day we arrive on the planet

Who: Zachariah and Magneto
When: Backdated to Friday evening
Where: Casa de los Archangeles
Summary: One of Zach's faces is a lion. Feline bonding with the pets ensues. Magneto qualifies.
Warnings: ZACHARIAH BEING CUTE. SHIELD YOUR EYES.

The time he's spent in port so far has been - he wouldn't go so far as to say busy, because he always keeps busy. Unexpected, filled with unusual if not unprecedented arrangements.

Zachariah likes to keep occupied. He's moved in, such as he needs to - rearranging the office the way he likes it, putting one tacky paper lantern in the sitting room for a dash of color - and the next order of business is examining every inch of his new home, sans the floor actually reserved for Michael. Which is when he finds the lion cubs, fur slightly tacky with dust and sweat, because poofing them through the angel dry-clean after they jump in the mud is not really sufficient hygiene for young cats. Soon he's in a heap with them on the grass, one sprawled over his lap as he brushes her, the other squirming beside him, getting a proper bath from the invisible lion's tongue of his Grace.

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Magneto popped his wormhole near the door and slid inside the door. He believed Michael and Lucifer to be home, but he wasn't sure, and regardless he wanted to pop in and see Gale and Curie. He liked to look in on them when he got back, feeling protective of them for having seen Michael Create them.

And Michael had given him the key after Eden had tattled on him about picking the lock to get inside. It's not like he could have asked, Michael hadn't been home. Still he stopped short at seeing someone - another angel - inside. Almost instantly, his posture was alert, wary, even a little afraid.

"Hey, good to finally catch you around," Zachariah announces cheerfully. Michael didn't detail how many pets there were specifically, but he can infer it well enough. "You'll have to forgive me for not shaking hands, mine are occupied at the moment." Curie, the one mid-bath, yowled plaintively, but he bopped her gently on the nose with the back of the brush.

"None of that. You're going to get groomed right and whining to your friend isn't going to change it."

"Hello..." Well, that he wasn't given an order to get out made him far less wary, although still alert.

"No, no, it's all right." He gave Curie a sympathetic look. No baby come run to him. "I just wanted to see the girls."

He would leave if asked to, but he didn't want to. And he kept stealing glances at Zachariah, working out what he was seeing. It was the colour, so similar to a lion's mane that made him headtilt. And he looked different than Castiel or the archangels.

"Swell. Come and sit, then. Spoiled things are clearly in dire need of sympathetic scratches." He had six wings, like the archangels did, but not quite so bright. Curie was almost eclipsed by the bright profusion of his mane, balanced on the other side with the smooth, heavy double-arch of curving ox horns. "I promise not to try to give you a tongue bath."

He relaxed quite a bit at the invitation, walking over with a natural grace that one didn't see in someone with his build, and sat near-by, reaching over to scratch Curie's belly, murmuring at her in Hebrew with comforting nonsense.

Magneto kept looking at him. "Did you just arrive here?"

"Just yesterday," he confirms, then scrunches his face up. Not angry, something more like disappointment and a hint of put-on pout. "Is it that obvious?"

"No. I haven't seen you before, and I wouldn't miss an angel in a crowd. I'm living upstairs with Michael and Lucifer for a while, so I know those who live here." Gale swiped at his hand and gently took her tail and bopped her on the nose.

"Time to add a name to the directory, then. I just moved in upstairs. Zachariah." Curie suddenly scampers away from him, headbutting against Magneto's elbow, and Zachariah lets her go, switching to cleaning Gale.

He scopes Curie up without thinking about it, cuddling the baby, but the name causes him to turn sharply to look at him. The colour, even the sense he got of him - what was that comment Michael had made?

"Michael...wasn't joshing me."

All his wings rustle - not full-blown agitation, but Magneto has definitely caught his attention.

Smoothly, he asks, "And what did Michael say?"

His eyes flick to Zachariah's wings and back to his faces a few times as he takes. "That you teased people about having the face of a lion. I asked if you were serious and he just smiled. I had thought he was teasing me."

"He may have been," Zachariah murmurs with a shrug, the roll of his shoulder spreading smoothly down one of his wings. Even though he has careful control of his face, the reactions of his body and Grace are more in tune, more unthinkingly connected than in many angels. "Angel humor is...different, and not precluded by truth."

He busied himself with cuddling the cub in his lap for a moment, then answered without looking up. "From what I can see of you, I have no reason to believe he was."

Because this conversation always went over well, but he was aware he had committed a faux pas by not telling Castiel, so he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

He tilts his head. The gesture is more birdlike than catlike, and Gale wriggles for a moment before Zachariah restrains her again.

"And how much is that?"

All the of the angels have some birdlike body language to some level, and he's used to Angel Headtilts TM.

He shifts Curie, who paws at his arm without clawing at it, but it frees his hand and he traces in the air, outlining wings and what he assumes are heads, though they just look like bright red-goldren light to him. "And light, a beautiful reddish goldren light, where you are."

"Gosh, I'm pretty," Zachariah answers wryly. "I should really get some ties in that color."

"It would probably match the suit, yes." He had a smile as well, because other than Lucifer that hadn't gone over so well with anyone. And yes, they angels were pretty. Very pretty.

In the old days, Zachariah visited a few prophets who could see his true from in more detail than Magneto, and being prophets, naturally they wrote it down. Even if most people don't take it literally anymore, he's become far more adjusted to the idea of being seen that way than most angels.

"And what about yourself?"

"For the most part, Michael Xavier is what everyone knows me as. A few call me Erik. I. I don't really have a name I'm attached to. What name I had I lost a long time ago." Which had left him floundering for who he was.

"Michael calls you Erik," he observes quietly.

"He used to call me Michael." His jaw ticked, because it bothered him, in ways he didn't know how to explain, or whether he should protest. "And my granddaughter calls me 'Maggie'. Just pick something, I suppose."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Xavier, perhaps, if you're keen keeping it restricted. There's really only one Michael to me."

That offer, however well intended, just made an awkward conversation even worse, and he fidgeted a bit, playing with the cub.

"Xavier in public, I would be grateful. In private..." He trailed off, floundering.

It wasn't quite well-intentioned, though it hadn't been malicious either. Zachariah wanted to see Magneto's reaction, and he'd gotten one.

"Calm down, sparky. I'm an accommodating guy, we'll figure out something that works."

Normally, he'd say 'I am calm'. But Lucifer had firmly broken him of the habit of even those types of lies.

"Funny. I wouldn't have said I overly cared before."

"Sometimes these things sneak up on you." He finally lets Gale run off and flop over Magneto as well. "No pressure. Shoot me a memo when you decide."

This really had. It was something to puzzle over, but he had one squirming cub in his lap, eager to play now her sister was there, and both cubs where a lapfull. Gale stood up in his lap, butting her forehead against him, making a rather pitiful whine, as if telling on Zachariah. "I know Gale, I know. He made you all clean, you poor little thing." While Michael and Lucifer tended to speak to them in Enochain, Magneto tended to stick to Herbew, as he did now. Curie joined her sister in standing up in his lap and they leaned against him, so he let them push him over so they could play.

"I will." He didn't look over at Zachariah, not out of disrespect but because the cub need his attention.

It's strange, because to Zachariah, looking away is the respectful gesture. He understands human norms are different, but it hardly matters in either case: the cubs obviously take priority. He watches Magneto baby them with something like contentment.

"Fair warning, I may stick with Sparky till then. It suits."

Typically he looks at whoever he is speaking to, either not making eye contact, or with his head respectfully bowed, rather than not looking at him at all.

But yes, the cubs take priority, they have since Michael Created them. Curie attempts to pounce on him but she doesn't have the space to do it properly so she took his hand in her mouth and shook his arm. Thus far, she's not once put her teeth to his skin, so he didn't mind, letting her tug on him.

He lifts his other hand away from the cubs and flicks sparks between his fingers. "It does."

Gale promptly bounds after the sparks, and Zachariah chuckles softly. "They must love that."

"They do."

And, this, this is why he's so...drawn to Lucifer. Because the sparks he's throwing are mostly light - and once Gale starts trying to pounce on them, that's all they are. Threads and sparks and little orbs of light that cubs can try to catch.

Even if it means he has a still-growing-into-her-paws-Curie flopping on his stomach, limbs splayed as she tries.

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From the day we arrive on the planet

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