[open] channeling angels in a new age, now.

[priorly]

Who: Prior Walter (priorly) & you??
What: Catch all logs for October!
When: October!
Where: various
Warning(s): language, likely mention of terminal illness (AIDS). Adult themes?
Notes: Please PM me if you'd like a starter, or feel free to wildcard me anytime.

Comments

[priorly]

Mine comes from an angel. Do you have those, or is it still all standing stones and sun gods?

[The number of people here who don't seem to know something so ubiquitous in his own world and time makes the question necessary. Christmas here is going to be dull.]

Anyway, when it comes to terrifying winged visions, I'd take a dragon any day of the week.

[Hypothetically. Haha they're... not... real.]

[politrick]

The dragon's a bit ornery, but that's because he's old, I suspect.

[Also: very, very real. He just shrugs away the idea of angels - the Old Religion has High Priestesses and Triple Goddesses but he doesn't get too deeply involved in all of those details.

But he won't know Christmas, no. Tragic.]

[priorly]

How can you tell? Do they go gray?

[Leaving Angels aside for the... well, for as long as possible, really. Prior doesn't speak about this often, or to many people. For the moment Merlin at least doesn't seem to think too much of it, so he might as well quit while ahead.]

[politrick]

[After everything else, Merlin can't actually consider something like angels strange just because he's never seen one - and he's known seers, several of them! So. Close enough?

But dragons, dragons are good.]

No, they just act like angry old men. And the one I helped hatch from its egg had been in that egg for hundreds of years. If a baby's hundreds of years old, then it stands to reason my friend is... well, getting on in years.

[priorly]

Hundreds of years? Unbearable. Personally I've always imagined my nine months to have been interminably dull. Nothing but my parents arguing and new age whale music to keep me occupied.

[As if all this is normal, really, even if there's something deep in Prior's psyche lightly screaming about how crazy this is. He's here, so either it's real or there's some kind of traumatic brain injury he'll never come back from: might as well make the best of the hallucinations.]

Are there many dragons in England, then?

[politrick]

[whale music... Truly, everything Prior says is a mystery. Merlin manages a- chuckle? He hopes that's supposed to be funny.]

Just two left. [a beat] And it's Albion, but I suppose someone could have changed the name in, oh, centuries.

[priorly]

Albion. [Prior's turn to look confused, although... maybe in a movie?]

No, I think I've heard of that. It's weird, right? How I'm hundreds of years in your future, and in this future things have swung right back your way. I feel... constantly out of my depth.