Imprisoned.

Somehow, this place was hot enough to burn, yet cold enough to freeze, all at the same time. Clammy, unpleasant—the sensation of going into the warmth after being out in the snow. The walls dripped with condensation; black stone etched with wards, all to hold back the different poor sods heaven deemed to be sinners.

Regardless of their crime, so many angels now stacked on one another - not quite fallen, all bound in some way, with their assorted graces stuffed inside them to bursting point.

That was where all the different temperatures flowed from. Some were flaming hot, scorching and licking at the bars of their cells, whilst others formed frost on the dark floors.

Abaddon’s was sealed into their back, barely doing enough to stave off the feverish temperatures flowing all around them. They remained sat firmly on the ground, staring aimlessly through the half corroded bars. They might have thought to try and break them - they were certainly strong enough, but the screams from the depths of the winding corridor told them what the guards would do if they were caught. And they would be.

Pale gold eyes set in black scleras followed the same wards as they had since their imprisonment, searching for a loophole of some sort. Still wouldn’t matter.

Their studies were interrupted by the sounds of a clang and thud, as someone important enough to be allowed a visit walked down the corridor.

A pair of feet poking from a soft, clean robe stopped before their cell, clearly facing them. The silence was almost as thick and heavy as the atmosphere, as though the being before them was awaiting their gaze. They took their time before dragging their eyes up his figure, being greeted by the gentle, apologetic smile of Zadkiel. In his calloused hands, he held a flower pot with a lone sunflower. Poor thing would have no light to face in this hellhole.

‘Let me guess - another denied appeal?’ The redhead’s voice was raspy. How little they now spoke was clear whenever they did pipe up. At least they managed to curb their bitter edge this time - Zadkiel, archangel of mercy, forgiveness and freedom had been tirelessly attempting to get them out of here. At least, for a walk. He was the only one who seemed to believe that the punishment they now faced did not really fit their crime.

‘I’ll keep trying,’ the dark haired man promised, which earned him a slow, exhausted smile. There was no hope in Abaddon’s expression - they’d given that up long, long ago. ‘I brought you a gift.’

The flowering plant was placed as tenderly as a newborn just outside the bars of the cell, the golden petals nearly glowing amidst the darkened room. Abaddon’s gaze travelled back down along Zadkiel, opting to watch the plant for a moment. It seemed as uncomfortable here as anyone else, but offered a warmth like they’d only felt before...

Well. A time long since passed.

‘Thank you.’ Finally, they found the words they sought, before golden hues closed and their head rested against the bars. ‘For trying, if nothing else.’

They could feel Zadkiel’s grace, attempting to soothe them. Gently brushing up against their body, calm like an ocean on a warm day. It almost helped to regulate all the temperatures dragging them closer and closer to the ground. Almost. ‘You’re very welcome, Abaddon.’