They are on their way to save the world, But they need more help and they know exactly where to go.
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"I wouldn't want to let the family down, now, would I?" Bethany stated, as all of them laughed.
"So what we're going to do is talk to this Cardinal Glick. What if he says no?" Jay asked abruptly. "What? Game over?" Silent Bob shook his head.
Bethany turns to face Metatron and Rufus. Met crossed his arms as he evaluated something, but Rufus spoke up.
"Well, we still have someone who can help us," Rufus explained.
"Who? Another angel?" Bethany asked.
"Was," he corrected, widening Metatron's eyes at the realization.
"Rufus, no-"
"Oh, come on! This is our only plan B!" Rufus argued as Bethany and the two prophets looked on, puzzled. "She might help us a lot!"
Metatron growls lowly, "She might not as well."
"But she might! Come on, can you push the past aside for the time being?" Rufus inquired. "We're trying to save the world here."
"Excuse me," Bethany interrupted, "Who is She?"
"Another chick? Damn, we're getting lucky." Jay chuckled, and Bob rolled his eyes.
"Easy there, tiger," Metatron growls again in response to Jay's statement. Rufus raises his hand and says, "He doesn't know what he's saying," and the apostle turns to face Bethany.
"We are going to meet someone, and the voice here might not like it."
And Metatron dislikes it, albeit only slightly.
They have arrived in front of a white building. There is a window at the bottom with paintings displayed for customers to see. As they entered, Rufus opened the door, causing the bell to ring. A slew of finished and unfinished paintings are hung or laid out on the floor. Plants covered the shop as well, with some hanging from the ceiling. On the corner, there are newspapers covered in paint. There are a lot of paints and brushes on the counter, but no one appears to be inside.
Metatron crosses his arms and says, "She's not here, so let's go-"
"Wait a minute!" said a voice from the back of the store. Met's eyes softened as soon as he heard it.
He hadn't heard that voice in a long time. He can feel his heart racing. Perhaps he no longer despises it.
"What can I do to help you?" you inquired as you walked in, smiling as you did so. You're dressed in blue denim overalls and a white t-shirt. You have a messy bun in your hair and a few paint splatters on your clothes.
