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Letting off some steam?

Well - Ernst wasn't really about doing it in quite that way. He was happy to drink, of course - what self-respecting Dionysian wasn't? - but he didn't think you could work through your issues by putting on just any pretty clothes and partying the night away.

No, when he was troubled, he was drawn to create. And in this case it might actually align with whatever everyone else was doing, but that wasn't really the intent. It did seem like an interesting subject, and he'd taken enough (read: minimal amounts of) theology courses to recognize that it'd at least be interesting. Beautiful and terrifying and maybe amoral; human and animal at once - wasn't that what angels were about?

But...

He thumbed his contacts list in discontent. There really needed to be multiple angels for the concept to work without lengthy amounts of explanation (or at least for someone to help perform that explanation). He had plenty of friends outside of the Prytaneum, but none of them had been in the swamp with him, which was really the significant thing. And he did have quite a few friends, now, who were Chosen. But some of them were a little - ah - too sweet for something like this, or maybe just not, er, thoughtful enough. Or maybe they were plenty thoughtful, but just too busy, or their aesthetic didn't mesh too well with Ernst's own, which mattered a lot when you were Ernst Nzikobankunda.

Yeah, it always came back to those two, didn't it? But he might as well text them - they definitely had skills they could bring to the table when it came to this, and the sketches he'd made in Photoshop could never really satisfy the itch to actually do something.



The sketches he'd sent hadn't been centered around the three of them necessarily - he'd just been going through verses in a haze, thinking about what had happened in Louisiana. There were quite a few concepts outlined, but most notable, of course, was that these angels were not the probably familiar berobed creatures with sweet cheeks and halos.