@ bettingvaticancitydidntwork
Too long, Michael had been out on the streets of Earth. Too. Long.
He was just about out of money, running on barely fifty dollars. Now, his vessel had contained a decent amount of money, which he was grateful for, among other things, but... it wasn't enough. He'd been... managing. Sort of. He'd managed renting out a motel room for the past week, had managed to purchase a change of clothes for himself, had managed purchasing food. He'd tolerated the negative aspects of being human- the nightmares, the loneliness, etc.
It had been two weeks since his loss of Grace, and one day since he'd lost his motel room.
Sitting at a park bench, he exhaled slowly, feeling a spark of frustration for the millionth time that day. How could any of this even be happening? Why should any of this be an issue? He was an archangel, dammit! A.. a prince! What was he doing here?
If he ever got his hands on Metatron, he'd... he'd land himself in Hell so fast, he wouldn't have time to regret doing it all.
For hurting him, hurting his siblings, for harming Heaven's overall well being. He was clearly going against Father's orders, Father's plans, he was causing demise to every bit of sanity any of them had left.
And there was nothing Michael could do about it- for all he was now was a homeless human, lacking his resources, lacking help, lacking... well, pretty much everything.
He couldn't find his siblings. He couldn't find assistance .The field he'd landed in had been bare, angel-wise, and so he was alone here, with only humans, none of which believed anything he'd say regarding his issue.
Tipping his head back, Michael gazed at the sky. Such a thing was becoming a hobby, he'd admit. He'd think, would imagine the chaos of Heaven and the souls residing there, of the orders piling up, of things not getting finished quick enough. People wouldn't be finding their love, seeing as the cupids had fallen, and humans would lack their guardian angels, which meant only negativity for them, and-...
He stopped as a certain being caught his eye. One clad in bright red stripes- hard not to notice in a park of normality. Tipping his head to the side, he narrowed his eyes, wondering why this boy looked so familiar. And once it dawned on him, his eyes widened, and he stood.
''Samandriel!'' He called, his voice loud, shocking the humans which meandered nearby him.