HERETIC

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟒

Sitting in one of the larger rooms of the Doctor's abode, Michael pulls at the fingers of his glove to get them off while a handful of his soldiers wander in talk to each other, sipping and munching on what's been offered to them by the surveying doctor. Taking a seat himself, the Doctor's focus turns to Michael. "You're looking well."

His lips curve his heavy beard of dark brown hair as Michael lifts them to a smile. "As are you, Raphael." making note of Hera's stance, arms folded while leaning her back against a counter of the researching room, the spear rests leaning the same at her side. Closely, her eyes scan Dantanian as the man somewhat smaller than Michael with black hair and no beard of any kind nears the spear in admiration, but quickly moves on when looking up to her gaze. Catching sight of Ezra's judging glare, Michael calls, "What's your name kid?"

"Ezra Amir," he answers with distrust.

"Well, go on." He nods. "Ask what you're wanting to."

"What are you?" he asks almost scared for the answer.

Nonchalantly, Michael answers, "I'm human." His brows lift as if there were no other reply.

Brushing his hand through the front of his short dark hair with a splotch of dark blue dyed into it, Ezra runs the hand down to the back of his neck and flops it back to his lap. "Yeah, see, I watched you get thrown into a fucking building and walk it off."

"You saw Hera do the same."

Not putting his gaze much on the man, Ezra says as much to himself as anyone, "I know... which means whatever you are, she probably is." Flopping his hand between his knees, he links fingers together and twists to look at her. "I don't care." Her eyes lift to his. "If... if you're a... demon... Nothing will change." He reaches for the truth from her, but gets it from Michael instead.

"We're not daemons, Kid... We're angelos." Ezra looks to him with a wrinkle in his brow. "Angels," Michael nods.

After a long second, Ezra stands, the backs of his legs pushing at his chair. "Fucking what?!" He turns to her with a smile that shoots up his lips. "I like this kid's enthusiasm," Michael says to Hera with a toss of his head Ezra's way.

Coming to Hera, Ezra's manner calms as his eyes reflect the settling thoughts. "You're an angel?"

Dully, she answers, her gaze filled with anything but enthusiasm. "...Yes," she thinks on how to explain the complexity of her species opposed to this worlds history of it and decides not to do it at all.

Quietly, his eyes start to show the thoughts of respect and idealism for her. Since she saved his life, he has considered her his guardian angel and as his mind tells him the factual truth behind the feeling now, his lips lift to a warm smile of admiration. An expression she seems to find herself not able to look at much longer. Looking to the spear, Ezra takes it into his grasp bringing widening eyes to Raphael and Michael, as well as an under the eyebrow scan from Dantanian, while his head points more down to the cup in his hand.

"Is this an angelic spear then?" he asks, glancing it over.

Calmly, with arms still folded, she answers while not displaying the wrath the three men expected from someone touching that weapon. "Yes." Unbothered by his grasp on her spear, she continues, "it was a weapon of one of the first angelos. Our ancestors."

Brushing off her lack of care for Ezra's touch, Michael spouts with a breath to a laugh, "yeah, and now we know how that story went." A reference obviously meant for the angelos in the room because it passes by Ezra. Standing to his booted feet, Michael comes to slap a wide hand on Ezra. "If only you could have seen the warrior Hera used to be."