Hell On Earth [Reaper Six-GingerXX]

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CalibansEnthusiast

Author, Fatebreaker
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Fredric strode through the barren wastes toward the town. It had been years since the war had ended, it had been terrible, with the aftermath even worse still. Now remote communities like the town he approached had become the only view of civilization. As he strode past the gates, he made for the bar. He needed a drink, badly.

Ever since his Fall, he had gained almost an immunity to the intoxicating affects of alcohol. This he used to his advantage often. Most angels didn't have that ability, with other, more powerful traits.

But he used his to an advantage, to find his targets and bounties, and collect them. He worked for whoever payed most, and as he sat down in the dark and seedy bar, knew he was on mission.
 
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It had a long day for Amreal. Though what day wasn't? With the supply run she just completed and the nagging in the back of her head, her mood had took a turn for sour. More and more lately, every day seemed to blur into the next. Survive and sleep, Survive and sleep. It was a never ending pattern.

The angel could barely stand to think back to the days before the war. To the days when Gadreel was here.

An aching throb of the heart told her that it was enough thinking for the day. What she needed to do was relax and cool off. That probably wouldn't happen, but all she could do was try. "I'm going down to the bar," she called back to the rest of the supply team. Each gave a shout or nod of the head, letting her know she deserved it. Supply runs weren't easy, the blood on her blade showed that. On his blade the nagging in the back of her head whispered. Shaking slightly, Amreal let her right hand drift back down from where it had went to rest on the sword.

The walk seemed to be longer than usually, her heavy heart weighing her down. Greatly, the small hut they called a bar stood proudly. Humans littered around the doors, just talking about the day. They all fell silent as the angel walked past though. It was nothing she would take offense to, rather take in a small amount of pride. They paid their respects to her in little ways like this. Saving a town apparently warrants you that. Her smile was small as she walked into the noisy room, taking her favorite seat at the bar. "Give me your strongest, Rick," her voice rose to pick up over all the noise.

Apparently the strongest was strong enough for her immune system and thus resulting in her drunk enough to not notice the potential threat walk through the door.
 
Fredric strode through the door with the swagger of a frontier sheriff, or outlaw, back when Earth was still a livable world. He sat at the bar, "Scotch, neat." he ordered. Then looked around the bar at the faces, some wearier than others. He picked out the weariest, and when the bartender delivered his drink, he slid a bill across the bar, "and another round for her, if she wants one." he said, pointing to the angel across the bar.
 
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Amreal raised an eyebrow at the offered drink. Not many people around the town talked to her other than when necessary. Being an angel had its advantages with fighting, strategizing, and healing, but when it came to socializing it wasn't the best. Most humans were intimidated or scared of the way she was, and only the children seemed to really not care of her race. What the innocence of childhood could be.

"Really? That's not something that happens to me everyday," her hand was shaky as she reached for the drink.
 
Fredric sipped at his Scotch, alternatively looking around and looking at the angel. She was the only armed one in the bar, a strange thing, since normally angels were always armed... But something about her seemed differant.
 
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As the man beside her looked around, Amreal could tell he wasn't from around here. It was surprising considered the effort it took to get her. Most humans didn't travel far from their groups. "What brings you here to our humble abode." She swept her arm toward the large groups of people drinking the days away.
 
He looked over at her, "just looking for work. Otherwise, just wandering." he told her. Fredric shook his head, "what about you? What brings you here?"
 
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She shook her head at the man before sighing. "I once wandered before I found this place. Now I guess I'm just trying to protect these people," she threw back the rest of her drink. A headache was starting to form, just like every time she drank. Her body didn't want to accept the polluted drink, its uncleanliness countering with her blood.

"They need the protection more than I do. I don't deserve protection." The words came bursting from her mouth before she could stop them. Amreal always was a blabby drunk. As she thought back on her words, her hand drifted down to the sword. It was always a curse to carry it around, always a reminder of the legend who carried it before her.
 
"Everyone needs to be protected, from time to time." he said in response. She obviously had some painful memories, or some sort of past. "How about I buy you a drink, help you forget for a time?" he offered her.
 
She couldn't help but disagree with the man. He didn't know what she had did. What she had let happen. "I usually don't drink this much," Amreal sighed before smiling. "But what the heck. No sign of paradise, so might as well."
 
He grinned and waved for another round. He got his second drink, and the bartender gave her a second. "I guess at this point, I'd like to know your name..."
 
She took a sip of the new drink in that was placed in front of her, "Name's Amreal." She grinned at the blonde before taking another drink. He looked really funny, all fuzzy and stuff. She shook off the tightness in her body before speaking again, "What's yours stranger?"
 
Fredric took a drink of his, "Fredric." he said. He looked at her, and smiled. "I guess we both have things we want to forget."
 
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Fedric.... the name seemed slightly familiar, but in her haze, Amreal didn't think much of it. She scoffed, "Isn't that the truth." Another sip and the drink was already gone. Her eyebrows rose, that was quicker than usual.
 
He nodded, and waved for another round as he finished his Scotch. "Is there anything good left here?" he asked her.
 
She didn't give a thought before taking the drink. "Not much. Most of the town is still rebuilding. The only real job is the supply team. Other than that it's mainly easily things." She laughed before gulping down half of the drink. "I was immediately offered a spot on the team.... well, more like forced. Most of the men aren't that good. They actually kinda suck." Amreal laughed again before finishing the rest of the drink.
 
She was tearing through them faster than he could order them... "That's why I live alone. So nobody lets me down." he said, halfway through his third Scotch.
 
The angel waved away the next drink that was placed in front of her. Her body was full of pain now, the type that only came when her instincts flared up. Alcohol always gave off the effect, and with the amount she just had, it was no wonder she was hurting. "I... I lived alone for a while. I guess I sought out to help people because I was the one that let someone down." She stared off in thought, "I could do perfectly well on my own. There really isn't a good reason I'm here. Certainly not for another person."
 
He shrugged. "Can I ask what happened?" he asked, looking at her with quite a bit of concern.
 
She winced before slowly nodding, "War," Amreal glanced at all the sad and torn faces around her, "Just like the rest of us. But I guess mine was a little more personal." Her fingers trailed around the edge of the wet ring that the drink left on the bar. She never enjoyed talking about it, even though she used the reminder of him every day. "A comrade.... no brother of mine was killed in battle, demons everywhere. I couldn't save him in time."
 
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