bianca, claire, cain, leviathan!
Bianca - What do you think of the human resistance?
Almost unknowingly, Junia drew in a deep breath, allowing it to linger in her chest before expelling it slowly. “I think it’s …” she paused, thinking of the right way to convey her feelings. The Junia before the fall would have eagerly supported the resistance, as it embodied everything about humans that she loved: their resilience, their determination, their passion and sense of unfiltered hope. It made her feel hope, too, and she could not deny that the signs of it now, in these dark times, hadn’t rekindled that flame higher and brighter. However, along with them, also came fear and trepidation — two words that had been foreign to her until after the fall, until the loss of her wings, until the town of Paradise enclosed its steel claws all around them. She now knew, painfully, achingly, the price that people paid for hope. Despite her years spent watching the humans, loving them, their loss had never felt this sharp, this keen before. And though with every breath she believed and wished and yearned for revolution, for resistance, Junia was also terribly afraid of when those dreams would come true. She cleared her throat gently, lips forming words that they were numb to, “I think it’s a sign of true hope; something that is sorely needed around here. And once that hope comes to fruition, let’s pray that we’ll know what to do with it.”
Claire - Do you think your parents would be proud of you the way you are now?
“My parents loved me,” Junia said, fully believing the statement to be true. Though she did not remember much anymore, she remembered clearly that feeling of warmth and acceptance, for it was them who had taught her about the strength that it could bring. “However, they were very religious, very strict.” She grimaced, remembering the teachings they had passed down to her, their insistence and stubbornness in their way of life. Though she could not remember specifics anymore, she remembered clearly this, for it was them who taught her about faith, too. “They would not be proud of me now, for though I love them with my whole heart, they are too entrenched in their own ways and their view of the world to truly have ever accepted mine, I think.” And that statement sent a pang through Junia’s heart. For though she still loved them, or at least what remnants of memories she could cling to of them, she knew the path she had chosen, the one that had led her to Heaven and God and now Paradise, was not one they would have picked for her.
Cain - Do you believe in predestination? Or do you believe we create our own fates?
“There is too much left up to chance for predestination to truly mean anything.” If there was one thing she had learned in all her years of peeking down from Heaven, it was that anyone, but particularly humans, were completely and utterly unpredictable. She had spent hundreds of years pondering the choices, right or wrong, of those that had shaped history, trying to understand to no avail the paths they had chosen to take and the reasons they had for doing so. Fate was not a primordial being, moving humans and angels and demons alike on a chess piece, according to some abstract set of rules that no one could hope to ever understand let alone get a glimpse at. “Our destinies are controlled by those that we meet, the paths we stumble across, and our own decisions, certainly not fate or kismet. Those that we love, too, are a culmination of our past choices and beautiful, dazzling luck.”
Leviathan - If you could speak with God one more time, what would you say?
One thing that has always been a constant in Junia’s life is her unwavering love and devotion for Him, and even though she had a penchant for sneaking below to see the humans, she had never forgotten the grace and privilege bestowed upon her that allowed her to reside in Heaven. Yet, since having her wings ripped from her body, since seeing the pain that so many around her had endured, Junia could not help the edge of confusion and fear that had crept into her mind, blotting out the trust she had embraced before; those emotions had coalesced into one painful question: Where was He? And as the days had dragged on and the pain had increased tenfold, that question had morphed into the plea that now fell from her lips: “God help us all.”