September 15th, 1999
Last night something extraordinary happened. My
knowledge of carnal acts being through hearsay only, I am nevertheless
certain that what we did not last night was not the complete sexual
act. I am aware of how humans procreate. . . and express their emotions of
love and lust. Maybe we will end up there. . . but last night we introduced
ourselves to each other with that in eventual mind. Jael. Had Michael
asked me two weeks ago if I would ever know another being intimately, I
would have assured him of the negative. And yet I find myself having
given and received massages, 'cuddled,' and felt the heat of another
body beside me. . . and enjoyed it all, emotionally and completely. What is
happening to me? None of these acts served any purpose in the continual
battle against hell. . . they should have been an abhorrent waste of time to
me. They were not. They were not! I feel stronger now, more focused,
more relaxed. Jael's hands were strong and everywhere, pushing the ache
of hell and accumulated stress from my muscles, eliciting sensations
that were captivating, made me catch my breath, made my skin shiver. I
returned the favor and marveled in the smoothness of skin, the supple
resilience of breasts, the glittering blackness of hair passing silently
through my fingers. . . I have had vessels for many centuries and never
paused to admire the more decorative aspects of them. More than her
body though was the energy that I felt flowing from our contact. . . an
extreme heat and vitality, eyes shining with understanding and
commiseration with my world, my fate and my purpose. Jael
understands. She does understand. She echoes the passion I have
brought to the world, the drive with which I fight for God and for
humanity. . . she shares these passions and though she expresses them
differently, the fundamental knowledge that they are the same at our
cores has rendered us free. We do not need to fight. . . we are aiming at
the same goal. What matters is that we get there, not how. . . except that
it be together.
Am I being a fool? Will she attune to me? Or become emotionally
attached and thus attuned through a perhaps more insidious means? Will
she lose her objectivity? Will I? I have never had emotions that were
not aimed at my work or those I served. Will we work better? Would it
harm me to know her hurt or captured as I was? Would I do something
rash? I feel giddy and could imagine doing something rash very easily.
Even now, as I prepare to teach my morning class, she is upstairs in my
bed and I can imagine the warmth of those sheets, the sheets that were
warmed the night before last for the first time by this body and now
last night were warmed by two. That bed. . . sixteen years of perfect,
uninterrupted repose and now. . . I don't know!
Is this the right thing to do?
Perhaps not, but at this moment it feels like the right thing to do
. . . and when I have an instinct I usually follow it.
later --- After my morning lesson and some more non-mind activities in
my bedroom, Jael and I arrived for the meeting. . . barely. Jael used my
shower. . . the first it that has been used. She called out to me to ask
what had happened to the shampoo. I did not know and went to see what
she meant. The shampoo had solidified and would not squirt from its
bottle.
"When did you buy this shampoo, Rook?"
"When I moved in and set up the bathroom."
A quick mental calculation. "You bought this shampoo sixteen years
ago?" she asked, incredulous and looking at the bottle. "Hmmm. . . Breck.
'You tell two friends, and they'll tell two friends, and so on, and so
on,'" she murmured with amusement, evidently quoting something. "Rook,
are you telling me that you have never used this shower?" she asked,
though it was plain from her face and tone that she already knew the
answer.
"Yes. I wet my hair in the sink yesterday morning to remove its
strange arrangement but otherwise I have had no need."
"It's called 'bed head,' " she added helpfully as she ripped the bottle
open and began kneading the semi-gelatinous mass in her hands to render
it useful. A spark of mischief entered her eye then. . . I could see it as
clearly as if something had been thrown there. "Never showered? Well,
it's overdue. Wanna shower? I could wash your back?"
"Certainly," I had replied, entering with the intention that we make
ourselves scrupulously clean. One thing led to another, the shower led
to the bed and we consummated what had been begun the night before. . . some Catholics would call it a sin since procreation is not possible, but it
most decidedly did not feel like a sin. What a sensation. . . for myself
and for Jael as well, if I am judging her reactions correctly. My
vessel was built with four Forces, the intention being 'staying power'
in a fight. It would seem that stamina can make one late for meetings
. . . almost.
As I entered the kitchen of the Painted Pot I wondered if the meeting
would be helpful. I would try to remember what Jael had said about
conducting myself in such venues. I did not really want to. I felt
that such bandying about would take far too long and be
counterproductive in the end, but I vowed to try. At any rate, it would
be worth using her advice in dealing with people who shared her ways.
Not a great deal was accomplished but everyone at least participated
and gave what they could. I did learn a few surprising things. Arabis
is acting under a prophecy: "Neutrality is persecuted; chaos is
sought. Let not the Seller of Souls take the last of those who would
not choose." She was sent here to prevent this prophecy from taking
place if at all possible. As with most prophecies, the meaning is
unclear. We will have to continue looking. We talked about Dinhabah,
Bob and the Lilim. We verified that we were to be thinking about some
of these issues, each one important and necessary to consider. I still
felt that our group was not doing nearly enough to prepare for the
situation and the threat of those that would seek the Tapestry, but I
did not think I could get away with pushing any more. I desperately
wanted to, but it would have been useless. We still don't know what the
Tapestry does and have no plan for dealing with the remaining members of
the infernal triad, any vengeance troops that might be sent or the
forces of Colorado Springs and their allies. We remain woefully
separated and lacking in discipline.
Still, I have a firm list of the Songs in the party and, once I have a
few hours together, I can begin to look through them and piece together
some strategies. With Arashiel and her artifact we have a powerful team
to use against demonic interventions. Ah Michael, you have chosen a
strong warrior but a deceitful one. I hope there will be no
repercussions from this.
Jael and I, once we ascended to do research after the meeting, did not
remain in the library for long. The leads were few and Jael seemed less
interested in the books than in me. Fine. . . I wanted to try something
else. A vessel I may have but it is my angelic form that is me. . . I
wanted to see what we could do in those forms. I knew that many angelic
forms are not compatible for sex but when we were in my tent before, we
had shared ourselves at a more fundamental level. Actually, we didn't
. . . it just seemed that we had. At any rate, I wanted to see if we could
merge Forces. . . merge Essence. Some kind of combining in our true forms.
To my tent in the Groves went we. . . and it was miraculous. I think Jael
will remain partial to the more corporeal act but we will win either
way.
When I returned to the Norlin Tether (Jael going back to Painted Pot
for a while) to join Giles for chess, he was his usual self. Matt,
however, showed up and said that Dinhabah had been by earlier and was
rather annoyed that he had not been informed about whatever happened the
night before. I was instantly chagrined. While normally I would not
bother informing every angel in a given vicinity of everything I did, I
had only the day before promised to keep Dinhabah informed. Truthfully,
my mind got swept away on the crashing storms of the physical and I had
completely forgotten. I did not want him to think himself any more of
an outcast than he already was so I asked him if he would like to join
us, myself and Giles, and I would brief him. He soon arrived.
He seemed intent and rather accusational but I tried to defer his
worries. In fact, I am afraid I got rather light with him. . . almost
comical for me. I could not bring myself to answer his coolness and
worry with equal gravity. I felt. . . well, giddy. . . and my taking the
situation lightly and innocently made it light and innocent. It was
most strange and once Dinhabah had gone, I noticed only that Giles was
not drinking his tea. I wonder if he had lost his thirst in reaction to
Dinhabah's tone. Curious.
No matter, once our game was finished it was time for me to return
home. Home has a warm sound to it tonight. I must think on things, but
first. . . warmth.