[An android or an artificial intelligence is not too far off from the truth of what he is. Angels are created, not born; they are entities with inborn programming to direct their actions and without physical bodies of their own. Michael might be puzzled by the comparison, but not insulted.

He stops the ball with his foot, expression momentarily blank. Invitations to play are common from the children, but from a vampire? Directed at someone like himself?

Well. Michael supposes he's seen stranger things in Abraxas. He gives a light shrug.]

Alright. I suppose we may as well.

[There's a sympathetic understanding from one eldest child to another. Michael's younger years were a chronicle of steadily mounting responsibilities, too. It ought to be his turn to have fun by now. Maybe they'll learn something along the way.

He sends the ball back at Louis with a tap of his foot. Josselyn's execution was a public event and Michael feels little empathy, least of all for the none too dearly departed Creed, so he doesn't mind discussing the execution. He tilts his head to the side, considering what points to cut and which to include to build a complete but succinct summary.]

It was insight into what the locals consider adequate punishment for serious misdeeds. They flayed a sheep, then laid its skin over her, which forced her into the same form. [The gory details of her screaming over the sound of her own flesh being rearranged is one of the details he decides to omit.] Then they called down one of their old gods to feast on her. Very little was left.

[Michael figures he doesn't need to be explicit. Mostly eaten, the ball reminds him of it—a head. She was just a head, by the end.]