[video/action]

[angelofhope]

[A new face flickers onto the screen. He's spent many hundreds of years among humans, and has a tablet computer at home — navigating a smart phone is pretty simple for Remiel, the Compassion of God, who looks thoroughly unassuming in a sun-faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt and jeans. He's not even wearing shoes. But it wasn't exactly his plan to get kidnapped in the middle of gardening, all right?]

Hello! I hope this thing's actually connected to something. [He pauses.] Or I'm not crank calling on accident. Anyway. Hi. I like what you guys did with the hallways. Very interesting. I haven't seen anything that crazy since a family member rigged my older sibling's file system to keep showing her the same file.

[It takes an impressive amount of magic to do that to Barachiel, Heaven's great organizer and planner, and she really hadn't been pleased. But Sariel had had a bone to pick. And she never fights fair.

Remiel's sitting in the cafeteria, hair messy and expression pretty cheerful for an archangel who's just shown up in a different dimension than his own. The fact that he's separated from his family will take some time to sink in.]

And uh, has anyone seen a dog? White and black, friendly, about the size of a small armchair?

[Which is a slight exaggeration, but not really. Not when you're talking about an Alaskan Malamute.]

001 | Awkward Video

[deemedworthy]

[He recognizes this place for what it is, at least: a lab. Between the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier and the temporary facility that had been built up around Mjolnir in New Mexico, he's seen enough of sterile environments like these to know what they are and what they're for, though he's mildly confused about the contents of this particular lab. The camera is jostled as he fumbles with the device bearing it, giving a blurry and crooked shot of the plans, both foreign and familiar, that fill the hydroponics lab.]

These runes...

[The camera is pointed at the floor as he leans in to examine one of the nearest plantbeds, where Nordic runes have been etched. It's held steady long enough to give the viewer a clear shot of his boots.]

Health and prosperity. Someone has cared for these.

[His voice is low, uncertain; the familiar etchings aren't enough to assuage the anger he feels at being dropped, somehow, into some unknown facility against his will. No mortal prison has ever been able to contain him for long, and this, he is certain, will be no different.

He turns the camera back on himself, but clearly lacks understanding of exactly how it works, as it's not only upside-down, but also zoomed in so close that all it projects is an extreme close-up of his right eye.]

I wish to know who dares to toy with me! Whatever game is being played here, I do not find it to be funny.