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Isabella is generally referred to as: promising.

Angels in general are a breed apart. Of course they've all got lovely voices, they've all got classical music training and know the masses and prayers, they're all blessed winged creatures -

But that doesn't mean they're all smart, or all good, even (Isabella was taken to see Windy Point, once, or what's left of it, and of course she sees the scars on Galo Mountain every year at the Gloria; there stood angels who were not good). And Isabella is smart and good.

Isabella is always the first to volunteer for an intercession. She likes them. She'll call down weather, plead for seeds, pray a shower of medicine to fall from the sky, and she will get what she asks for, and she loves nothing more than to dive from hours aloft in prayer and clasp the hands of the people she helped and go home to the Eyrie to take on her next assignment. When there are none - when there is the right amount of rain and sun in the province, when there is no plague and no famine - she studies. She studies a bit of everything, but she fancies herself particularly a historian, investigating the accounts of Archangels' reigns past. From books, mostly, although once she wrangled herself a year in Cedar Hills to assist the Archangel Linus, and when she is in the Eyrie she closely follows the leader of the host there, the former term-lapsed Archangel Delilah.

She tried to get in with the other living former Archangel, too, Alleluia the oracle who served as Delilah's interim while the latter's wing recovered from an injury, but after a few hours' conversation Alleluia said that she could not accept Isabella as even a temporary acolyte and sent her to Peninnah instead. Isabella learned a lot from Peninnah, but she's confused about why Alleluia turned her down personally only to send her to another oracle, after such a prolonged interview. Particularly since Sinai is in her own province; what was the point in sending her all the way to Gaza?

But the instruction came from an oracle, and oracles' words more often than not come from Jovah. She went to Gaza, learned from Peninnah, and went home.

Now she is back at the Eyrie, and the first thing she wants to do is let Delilah know that she's back. Her wings aren't so tired that she can't immediately fly to the Corinnis or the outskirts of Semorrah or anywhere and accomplish something. Failing that, she'd love to sign up for harmonies again now that she's home and wants to know what she ought to schedule around.

Delilah is with her husband Noah, and a visitor. He doesn't seem like a petitioner, and he doesn't look like an Edori, although the fact that he and Noah are talking in Edori suggests that he might be an adopted one. (There are hardly any Edori of either sort left; most of them live in Ysral, now.) Isabella waits patiently outside the door for the host leader's attention.
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The stranger is about Isabella's age, with curly brown hair down to his shoulders. He pushes it back from his face as he talks, between grand, expansive gestures. He is, as it happens, telling Noah a funny story about a man who mistook a goat's horns for a tree branch and hung his hat from them for a moment, to the surprise and dismay of all involved. His comic timing is exquisite, as is his imitation of a startled goat.

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Isabella doesn't know more than fifteen words of Edori, so she can't follow this conversation at all, or she'd feel intrusive standing here. (She doesn't have any particular talent for languages or she'd have stayed with Peninnah for longer.)

Delilah knows more Edori than that, Isabella knows, but she's not really participating in the exchange either. She sees Isabella's wingtip. "Come in, whoever you are," she calls, "all I'm getting here is that goats are involved and it's making me hungry and there's hours before dinner."

Isabella steps into the room. "Hello, Delilah, I just wanted to let you know that I'm back from Gaza and I'm wondering if there's anything you'd like me to do."
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The Edori goat-imitator bites his lip and clutches his arm and spins to face her. His Jovah's Kiss is glowing like a hot coal.

He looks enthralled.
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If Delilah was going to say something, she's thrown off balance by this display. "Erm," says the former Archangel. "Isabella, this is Micaiah, who stopped by to talk to Noah about goats and possibly other topics that have gone by too fast for me to notice. Micaiah, this is Isabella." Delilah is not the type who will redundantly explain that Isabella is one of her angels when there are great gray-flecked wings arching from Isabella's back.

"...Hello," says Isabella. "It's nice to meet you. And it's good to see you again, too, Noah," she adds politely to the former angelico.

"Isabella," says Delilah. "Look at your arm."

Isabella looks.

There are such colors. She doesn't feel any pain, but there are such colors.

"Oh my," she murmurs.
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"It's nice to meet you too," Micaiah says softly. He sounds out of breath, and he looks like he is experiencing either intense pain or divine revelation. Perhaps both.

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"Are - are you all right?" asks Isabella, taking a step back. "That looks like it hurts."

Delilah gets to her feet, wings swishing along the floor as they follow her up. "Isabella, your time is your own for at least the next week, but I for one want to wake up to your rendition of the Sunrise Chorus with a decent tenor of your choice at least once in that time, and I wouldn't dream of prohibiting you from answering any petitions you happen to hear. Noah, shall we go see about those Manadavvi I've left poor Mark entertaining for the past hour?"

And with that Delilah and Noah are gone.
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"Sure it hurts." He tosses his hair back and grins. "I don't see that as a problem, do you?"

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"I don't want to hurt you," she exclaims. "Mine doesn't hurt at all..."

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"Ah, then it doesn't hurt," he says, straightening up and letting go of the afflicted arm and waving it at her theatrically. "It's Yovah's Kiss and it's giving me kisses. Mwah."

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"...It stopped?" she asks uncertainly. Her own is still a dancing aurora of opal-color.

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"No," he says promptly. "I lied to spare your feelings. The truth is, it feels like being stabbed with a hot poker, but I like it and it isn't doing me any harm, so where's the trouble?"

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"...You like feeling like you're being stabbed with a hot poker," she says skeptically.

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"Sure," he agrees, with a wide, guileless smile. "I don't like actually being stabbed with a hot poker, so much. Very messy. Turns you off hot dinners for a while. But this, this is fine." He hugs his arm to him with clear affection.

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Stranger things have happened, she supposes.

"If the stories are true," she says slowly, "then... you'll either want to make sure you're listening or make sure you're off the mountain when I perform the Sunrise Chorus."
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"Make sure I'm listening," he says. "Definitely."

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"Okay. Are you staying here? Do you know where the harmonics signup sheet is, so you can look at it?"

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"I wasn't going to be staying here, but now I am," Micaiah says brightly. "I don't know where the harmonics signup sheet is. Where's the harmonics signup sheet?"

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"It's just outside Elisha's room, as he's in charge of making sure it's full. I'm going to ask him if he'll sing it with me or if he knows any other tenors who want to do a morning piece, I may as well show you."

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"Okay!"

He actually bounces in place, hands clasped in front of him.
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Isabella smiles at him. "You're a friend of Noah's? Or just passing through and afraid you'll forget the language if you don't move to Ysral?" she asks conversationally, heading out into the hallway to find Elisha's quarters.

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"The second one, more like," he says as he tags along. Given the wings, it makes more sense for him to walk at her side and a little ahead than to actually follow. He manages to match her course nevertheless.

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"Your tribe didn't go? You came back without them?" she guesses.

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All asmile: "First one!"

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"But then you'd have them to speak the language to. Are they all here visiting Noah so he doesn't forget that - that he's supposed to say mikala whenever he forgets Serah's name, or something?"

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"Well, that's why I said more like," he explains with a quirk of a smile.

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