Tough To Clean Stains

   It's a lifetime till you can get pomegranate stains out out white cloth, it would take an eternity for an angel to learn that. There's no amount of scrubbing on a washboard that could possibly get the pink-ish hue out, or even purifying the cloth- that really did nothing and Gabriel and Babel would find out after several futile attempts

   The day started with the messenger cascading down the steps of the spire, there were angels going up, along with humans, and other entities going down. He had learned how to blend in after a long time, to take into account numerous things like blinking every so often, or making sure that he could imitate the motion of breathing was certainly a hassle. It was odd, though these were things that he had to take under his hidden away wings so that the entities of the land wouldn't be frightened. It was odd having this form, he had to admit. For starters, Gabriel knew that he could have gone down these wide slabbed stairs in his more natural form as he would be nearly triple his height now, and the odd sensation of dust and dirt on the soles of his feet as he took every step was something to grow accustomed to. Every toe, every finger, every eyelash. Little odd things. Babel was lucky, all they had to do was hide away their headwings and the rest of her was acceptable, fluffy tail and all. The pattering angel was careful to pass by those who crossed paths, walking closer to the inner-part of the building that had no wall in the center rather than the window view as he understood that If he fell, he would be okay. 

   It was easy to tell who was an angel, there would be the occasional lost face that was essentially a blank expression careening around, someone standing off to the side while there was a human rolling a cart of wheat through the busy dirt path, or bartered too quickly. They are so used to watching these ants build their colonies behind the window that is so familiar, to see it all up close, and to look like one of them, is boggling. That and understanding how joints worked. Or facial expressions. Having a mouth this way on his face was always odd...

   Ducking out of the spire, humans and hooved folk roamed the busy plaza. It was... busier than usual. Even from the landing, the brunet could hear the music as he descended, but- "Gabriel! Oh, excellent timing!" There was that familiar voice that chirped, swiveling around with his arms lightly raised, Gabriel averted his gaze from those who were... setting satin on posts? He looked down. Before he could even whistle a peep to the satyr, she shoved something into his mouth. They were quick about it, very quick. By then he could properly assess the basket of fruit cradled in their arms, round and red with a yellowed sprig up top, though the fruit in her hand was very different? Unsure of what to do, the taller of the two just raised his hands up in mild confusion and his body language told the same through those gestured hands that looked as if he were accused of something he didn't do. Babel smiled, as she always had, swaying a bit as she made a pinching gesture with her fingers. Right, chewing...

   That really didn't answer these questions at all... that he never got to asking whatsoever. Reluctantly bringing those molars down for something besides from moving his lips to communicate, the feeling was uncomfortable, I mean why do people have to have a tongue? It just fills your mouth unnecessarily and presses against the back of the little bones in your mouth. Gabriel knew that people needed them to talk and to eat but it felt like too much to have on himself, though the burst of citrus really did make him shiver- in fact he pretty much shook his head in a jolt and rocked back on his heels, bringing a hand to his lips, a solid gulp pushed the mass of citrus back. "What?" It was- a lot. He's still blinking, the zip that ran through him from the impact of that really was boggling, and how could he even go on to process it. "It's an orange!" Holding out the mass of the skins, that had little dotted pores on the outer part- the inner part was a light yellow, like the sun. But stringy, it stuck to the organs of the mass and the little teardrop sections from the semi-circle shaped bits was... intriguing. She handed it to him and Gabriel just stared at it. 

   The blobs of color that grew on trees, blossomed after the white petals and taking their place, he could have never imagined such a prospect that could be so... revolutionary. The outside was bumpy and stiff, but sleek, and the actual 'orange' itself that had a give under his finger when he poked the gut of it squished. There was a chortle, "Goodness, maybe I should have shown you it a little bit after you landed. Here, here," linking an arm to his own, the two wandered past those who were moving hauling about instruments, carts, and so much more. "I thought that orange is just a color," the taller of the two commented, amazed, as he rotated the mass in his one hand. It was like a ball. " It is, in fact it was named in honor of the color, isn't that fun?" Walking around a certain rock in the way, rather than stepping on it, Gabriel learned his lesson from last time and lifted his gaze back up from looking down for so long. Right, look like a person. 

   "As fun as whatever you made me do was, I've only had grass and water before, this is..." "Sweet! It's sweet, and people eat things like this for enjoyment." The noise was getting quieter as there were less and less people, in fact, Babel had navigated themself and their friend out of the main plaza and into a grassy plane. It wasn't unusual to see as there were some homes that speckled the country, taller structures were still in affect of being constructed, which was amazing to see more and more progress every time the archangel came back. "Sh...weet." He repeated. A new sound on his lips as it was becoming more comfortable to form on his lips. It was a sweet attempt that Babel was encouraging quite well. Letting go of Gabriel, Babel stumbled on her cloves and plopped herself on the ground, the basket in her lap.  "I still don't understand what is going on at the tower, I haven't seen that many people gather there before or- bringing so many things in." Scratching his head a bit, he forgot about the fruit momentarily and scooped it back up from the ground, picking off the grass that stuck to the side. 

   "I didn't understand either!" Picking a red fruit from the woven basket, they held it up. The way the sun ran down the side, it was just like molten gold. "However, when I asked-" of course she did, Babel is rather direct but not direct enough to be weird, it is... the kind of directness that one has when doing something in confidence, Gabriel has yet to master such a skill "-and a villager showed me the fields, the shrubbery produced fruits and vegetables grew overnight practically! They sprung from the dirt and the townspeople are holding a celebration in honor of it all. It was such an excellent harvest I actually got to see it myself and I picked these."

   "So the team did a really good job then... this is so odd." Reaching for my hand, which was admittedly rather uncomfortable because it was sticky from something- Babel pulled the orange from the grasp. "On the outside, it looks like nothing special." In them rotating the object, I peered forward and watched. "But on the inside- if you peel the skin, you get this." They were careful to dig their thumbs to the veiny innards, peeling around and pulling a good chunk of it- "Each part is sealed by a even thinner skin that you can eat- and the flavor is held by and even thinner skin!" Snapping it in half and watching something dribble out, Babel handed hum one half. "If they eat this all day I'd rather be a human." Hearing her giggle at the messenger's remark was rather rewarding, as rewarding as shoving the half into his mouth and basically bursting with delight. Involuntarily it was one of those things that made him smile, he often did but it was without thinking about it-

   Babel did the same and put aside the split-open orb, and returned to the red one. Goodness, Gabriel was getting excited. "This, this is a pomegranate." The angel nodded, "What do you think the inside looks like?" It was a peculiar question that didn't have to be asked, though Babel was the type to invite the unknown, the unusual, and to allow wrong answers in. It didn't make the feeling of getting something wrong go away, but it was definitely having the other try to think. "I don't remember designing this one, umm." Squinting, he leaned in- at that point the cherub handed him the fruit. It was- big, but not heavy in his grasp like the orange. "It's white and solid on the inside, like granite when you split it open." And she shook her head, "Not exactly, friend, but you were thinking of an apple!" Ohhhh that's the one- "But this, this is like that, it's called a pomegranate. 'Pom'- like apple, and the 'granate' like grain." However they were to learn of such things, or how it came to be, the other always found intrigue and joy from these facts as he could have taken triple the time to find this all out on his own. 

   The next few moments would include Babel showing Gabriel how to split open the fruit. Which he again wasn't accustomed to, it felt really weird and he didn't like the feeling of something crushing under his thumbs- but it was new. He wouldn't have known that he didn't like it if he never tried before, but to do something unusual, messy, and odd was- fun. Especially with someone like the cherub inviting that wonder in. Even the way that they would pump their fists as if to knock on a nonexistent table to cheer on the angel while he struggled, or clapping their hands together when he managed to split it after a little too much effort- it really did take away the disliked feeling of sticky fruit juice on his hands. It was just fun. And to marvel at the little ruby pearls that were embedded in the white reef, that was something he was terribly distracted by. In the carnage a few bits of the red would pop and end up in the grass, the cushioned white flung and well- a general mess that the two laughed at for one reason or another.

   The two were so distracted that he didn't even notice the wine colored stain on his wool robe. 

   Crunching on the seeds with Babel in a field, where the busy sounds were far away, were something he could get absorbed in instead. The two can bumble around for the time before the festival trying to figure out how to get the crimson out before the two ended up trading for an entirely new toga instead.