Gamzee served as Lil Cal’s hands, of course, even tending to the children and raising them into gods. Here, though, his mind was clearest. He knew this girl, and it was his choice to smile at her, gentle, gentle and proud. She was the Smiling Messiah, the Angel of Impossible Life, the Angel of Unspoken Possibilities – the Angel of Miracles. She was, or else none of this meant anything.
None of this meant anything but more blasphemous lies, heaped sour and coolkid-slick on the stew of all Gamzee had believed for so long and let fall out through him, fall through the staring holes sopor slime had left in his brain.
There were stories about this child in his sacred doctrines, Gamzee told himself. She was the one who walked among mortals, wearing skins like theirs for reasons only she could know, befriending them and taking them along to paradise. She was the one whose magician-clowns performed the cleverest tricks – hers was the Hall of Illusions, punishing the faithless and the cruel. Her humor was wicked slick and merciless. She would coat her words in her brother’s blood, just like he would soak his own words in hers.
What sort of messiahs wouldn’t know how to have a good laugh?
Original and beautiful.
Overall Rating: ++++
Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4583772