[It's nice to know Michael cares. Although it's not like Metatron notices as he has long stopped caring about those minuet details. He just focuses on the opposite. The slow decline of Michael, the fading power as he refuses to sleep. In the back of his mind he notes that this would probably have hurt a lot more a hundred years ago.
Metatron twists again as his arm is bent back. There is still that faint smile on his face, teetering on the brink of a grimace. Always so violent.]
Of course, sir. [A small chuckle.] Please enjoy them.
[He holds them out again, as politely as when he first offered them.]
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Metatron twists again as his arm is bent back. There is still that faint smile on his face, teetering on the brink of a grimace. Always so violent.]
Of course, sir. [A small chuckle.] Please enjoy them.
[He holds them out again, as politely as when he first offered them.]