9161/Chains of Freedom

Chains of Freedom
Date of Scene:	18 December 2021
Location:	Back Room - The Laughing Magician
Synopsis:	Cael confronts her abductor for the first time since the incident. Defiance is exchanged between victim and attacker. But who won out in the end remains to be seen.
Cast of Characters:	Jonathan Sims, Cael Becker, Chas Chandler
Tinyplot:	Path of Glory

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Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon meets Cael in the bar, early on Saturday, before anyone else has come to work on an exorcism or anything else. He gives her a hug and smiles brightly as he compliments the new colors in her hair. The bar is eerily silent and still, compared to even the usualy times when Cael's been there before--hardly anyone's been here for a week, and it shows.

    Jon takes a moment before they go into the back room, to grip Cael's shoulders and look at her firmly. "Are you sure you want to do this? You can back out any time--just tell me you're done and we'll leave. Okay? You're in control here." He doesn't sound unsure of her ability--just making sure that this is, indeed, what Cael wants to do.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Having arrived in the company of her roommate, Cael offers Jon a small, tight smile in greeting. The hug causes her to stiffen for a moment, before she relaxes into it. After several seconds, though, she pulls away, responding to compliments with a briefly widening smile.
    His question gets to the heart of things, though, and for a moment her uncertainty and fear are reflected in her eyes. "I think so," she answers - which is about as certain as she's able to get these days. Behind those words, though, is a jaw that sets into stubborn and determined lines more typical to her usual attitude. "I appreciate you being here."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon nods and then says. "Right. Well. I'll be right there with you, okay? I won't let him do anything."

    He takes a deep breath and then heads into the back room of the Laughing Magician, gesturing for Cael to follow.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas, for the most part, looks normal if you take only his form into account. His hair is pulled back from his face, the cord back into place holding it at the nape of his neck. He is still in the clothes he--or rather the angel--wore the day he abducted Cael but they are cleaned and show no sign of the dust, dirt, or blood they had worn after the fight.

    Beyond his form, he looks anything but normal. Around his body, from ankle to shoulder is a criss cross patern of what might be chains if not for the fact that it looks more like a hole in reality in the shape of chains. And on his back are a pair of wings.

    At ten feet across and at least four and a half feet of height, the wingspan alone is quite striking. But it is their makeup of the wings that is even more noticable. The right wing is covered in pristine white feathers, each with a stem of gold that shimmered and pulsed with light. The left is the opposite, a ragged and black-brown in color, with streaks of red staining it thoroughout. Each feather is reduced to a burnt nub of what was once beauty now turned to ashen, bloody rot.

    At the moment he sits upright, his eyes closed but his face facing up... perhaps he is meditating? Waiting for what he is almost sure will happen later that day.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Entering the room, Cael's jaw clenches tightly, and the cadence of her walk changes as she momentarily hesitates at the door. Somehow, it's worse that he's still wearing the same clothes - and she can feel her breath catching in her throat as she has to fight back a wave of panic. Shit. Shit shit shit. Is this really a good idea? Her gaze flicks to Jon for a moment - his expression confident, encouraging, and supportive, and so she continues into the room, stopping well back from the cot on which this... being rests.
    The only thing that's reassuring to her is that ruin of his left wing. He fucking deserved it, and if she could cause him more pain...
    For a moment, she's at a loss for words - but she decides to start with the only question that really matters to her. "What the //fuck//, Chas?" she asks in a cold, angry tone, as she clenches her teeth together tightly.
    What the fuck indeed.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon settles himself off to one side, keeping an eye on the meeting more than anything. He'll step in if needed, but he'd prefer to just let Cael direct the meeting--though whether Michael will show himself without being prompted is an open question.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas opens his eyes slowly and looks at Cael. Jon had seen a man haunted by his actions... the man as he is now is a bit different. There is the lingering look but something more resolute. More like Chas in his gaze. That he has accepted his actions as terrible is clear, and that he's ready to face the consequences of that is just as obvious... but more than either of those is a willingness to make things *right* again. For everyone involved.

    "Cael..." he says softly. "I... yeah... I fucked up. Are you here for me... or for... it?" he asks. He pauses and then frowns. "Maybe both?"

    He shifts ever so slightly. "Know that... for my part, I am sorry. I..." he sighs. "I would've never gone after any of you... had I been in control..." he chuckles without humor, and some of that haunted look comes back into his features. He looks drawn and worn. Stretched too thin over his body. "I wouldn't have done any of the things it did if I was in control."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I don't know," Cael answers honestly. "I'm //here//." And that's about all she manage these days. She watches Chas, studying his features, and his words, and lets out a heavy sigh. Where do you even start with this mess? "It's not just about the people that died. It's not just about what they experienced, and went through. It's the people they left behind, too - you get that, right?" she says, anger still lurking in her tone. "Families were destroyed by this. Meredith Landover's daughter will never know her mother," she points out flatly. "And probably will never really understand what happened to her mother. None of this can ever be set right."

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas nods. "I know. But I can't do much about all that. Besides help get rid of this thing in me as best I can." He makes a solemn face and says, "That's the best I can do in the circumstances I have" he says. "After that... reparations if necessary. Or time if the system needs it, though not sure anything we do as JLD can be admissible in court."

    He shrugs a shoulder. "Are you ready?" he asks. "Because he wants to speak with you. And... I am not sure how much longer I can hold him back, meditation or not." He looks at Jon. "I think he knows what is planned for today. There's a pensive energy in him. But I don't know the process and so neither does he."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "There's no way to prove in the court of law that you're responsible for those deaths, Chas. You'll never see the inside of a cell for what you did." For what he did to her. For what he did to those people, and their families. She grits her teeth for a moment before adding, "But maybe you can make sure that little girl has a better, safer life than- than she might have otherwise." Because, who knows? Maybe 19 year old Meredith would have sorted out her shit. ...or maybe things would have only gotten worse for that little family.
    At the mention that the angel wants to speak to her, she can feel her heard start to pound in her chest, and she fold her arms over her chest, fingers gripping at he elbows. This was a terrible idea. What if she can't do this? "You can let it out," is all she says instead - her tone flat.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Chas takes a long breath and nods. "Maybe you're right..." he says and then he bows his head. The right wing flares with gold light and a shimmering sound like distant bells lingers in the air for a moment before a scent of brimstone accompanies it. It seems the left wing, for all it's damage isn't completely ineffective in making its damage known.

    As Chas lifts his head, it's clear that what is in control isn't Chas at all. The same golden light fills his eyesockets. Twin pools of liquid gold that swirls and shifts in undulating patterns. His expression twists in distaste. "Congratulations, Watcher. You have managed to mar the signs of my coming." He then turns his attention to Cael and the feeling of that *presence* focused on her is palpable to the mortal woman. "Ah... the one that got away? That is the term, isn't it? How does it feel to be free of the shackles of your past, and yet still carrying the weight of it all on your shoulders? Your predicament is not one I had ever entertained watching... but it seems that some things have risen to the surface underneath the mask you wore before our meeting."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Free?" Cael scoffs. "How am I free? You think the fact that I've suffered should free me from the responsibility of my mistakes? Shit doesn't work like that, asshole," she shoots back. "I will always be responsible for my mistakes - and I can never set them right." She meets those molten, glowing eyes with stubborn determination - even as she struggles to restrain the urge to run from the room.
    "Just as you'll always be responsible for what you've done. Nothing can undo the pain you've caused."

Chas Chandler has posed:
    "You see pain? I freed them and those they left behind from their burden. They now sit with the rest of those who will be judged on the Day of Reclamation" the Archangel Michael says with a confused expression on his face. "This is why I did what I did for them and for you. You carry your pain like a badge... something you need not do... repentance is well and good, but I have seen that words are the tools of the Adversary and as such cannot be trusted. *Action* is what matters. *Action* is what I gave to those who I freed from the burden of existence."

    He shakes his head and shrugs his right shoulder. "I don't fully expect you to understand. But I will accept any retaliation you have for your own perceived pain. I think I have done you a favor in giving you the strength to change who you thought you should be because of what you did in your past. Mortals change their appearance based on a number of factors. Your hair... for instance, can be construed as a response to trauma suffered at my hand. He smiles at her. "But I think it is more a response to remembering what you were and not pretending to wear the mask that you used to hide that part of your life. The badge. The SHIELD."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "You think I'm all words?" Cael grits out. "You think I don't take action? I stop the sorts of organizations I used to belong to. I help the kids getting swept into that life to find better, more productive ways to live. I have changed and saved lives - I've been doing that. I will //continue// to do that. I've been freed from nothing - I've just been given more shit to carry, and I had enough as it was," she spits out in an angry tone.
    She shakes her head in frustration, her teeth gritting as he comments on the change to her appearance. "You're so smug and superior - and you see nothing. How would killing me have made this world a better place? Explain that to me."

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Another chuckle for the archangel. "Selfisheness... I expect nothing less. Aside from the fact that the burden of the world would be freed of another thief and murderer, your death would have proven a point to another." He looks at Jonathan at that moment. It would make certain that actions taken in the future by the Watcher and the Warrior were made with the understanding of the stakes involved. I would have taken one or both of them... but I saw that the source of their strength lied in others. In their compassion and care for you."

    He gives the woman a sympathetic look. You work towards the betterment of society, within the framework of a government agency. I work toward the betterment of reality within the framework of one who was there at its conception. I should not have to tell you how vast the difference is.]"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "You talk of who I //was,//" Cael answers coldly. "Not who I //am//. As a //child,// I made mistakes. As a //child// - I hurt people. My past is an excuse for you - and excuse to hurt my friends. How is that justice or righteousness?" She shakes her head, arms still hugged tightly across her chest, as her gaze goes to Jon.
    "He doesn't see me. He never did, I doubt he ever will." That said, she turns her back on the angel, ready to leave the room. She's had enough of his self-important bullshit.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "You made a mistake," Jon says softly to the angel, as he straightens and prepares to follow Cael. His gaze flicks to the angel's wing. "I don't know if I'd have been prepared to do that, had you not proven what you truly are, by going after her instead of me. I already knew what the stakes were--ten statements about your /justice/ was good enough. But that you came at me through my friend? Targeted a weakness, instead of following your supposed justice?"

    He shakes his head. "I don't care how powerful you are, nor how long you've been around. You're a bully, just like every other bully in the world. I might have been willing to let it go at your being exorcised today, but coming after Cael?" He glances at the woman's back, and then back to the angel, eyes narrowing. "You're going to regret that. A lot of people are going to make /sure/ of it."

    He turns away and says, "C'mon, Becker. We've got work to do."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Jon is still talking when Cael strides out of the room, and back into the bar. The moment she's through the door, that stubborn, determined set to her features melts, and she doesn't even make it to one of the tables before her legs give out beneath her, and she sinks to the floor, hugging herself tightly with tears streaking down her cheeks. Her breathing quickly starts to pick up pace as she hyperventilates, her thoughts shattering into confused shards.
    That fucking monster.
    She isn't the person he thinks she is.
    She's a good person.
    Isn't she?
    Isn't she?