S
Second Best
Guest
Original poster
(( Glad to have you, @Qimbra =) Maybe we could go defeat a demon altogether? ^.^ Your characters are very interesting, by the way.))
As Macbeth sat down, Apollo smiled wider and took another drink of the liquid. Digging in to the meal, he grabbed himself some garden salad, drizzling plenty of ranch on it, as well a couple slices of ham along with buttery mashed potatoes. As he was about to begin eating, however, he noticed that Macbeth had been silent the whole time, seeming tense. He didn't ask, though, and allowed Macbeth to stew in his thoughts. When he was finished with the food, he sighed contentedly and watched the conversing angels.
Soon after, the Head Angel had stood up and clanged his glass, catching everyone's ears and attention. Seeing his arms outstretched, they too extended their own glasses, but Apollo glanced at Macbeth with a curious glance. Looking back to the H.A. as he begun to speak, he smiled at the first part, but the smile fell when he hesitated, and added an unneeded comment. Blushing slightly, he muttered a thank you, and looked at Macbeth, who was currently studying his food very intently. Apollo heard the chatter around them revert to the mocking of Macbeth, and he stood up to get away from the table before he broke a heavy goblet over one of their heads.
Standing near a large window, he stared out into the night, clearly seeing the reflection of everything behind him, and himself, against the dark pane. Thinking deeply, he hadn't noticed Macbeth walking towards him until their hands were connected. Apollo looked to him with a small smile, letting him take the lead, since he knew where everything was. As Macbeth explained their reason for leaving the party, Apollo nodded in understanding and smiled in sympathy as he commented,
I'm glad to leave those jerks. They've no need to talk about you like that.
Apollo's eyes widened in surprise as Macbeth pulled his hand onto his hip, blushing a bit more deeply with the intimacy. He looked at Macbeth's own flushed face, and recognized that he had a slight buzz, and remembered that Macbeth was a purity angel and probably was a lightweight. Not that it was a problem, that was just his nature.
Walking through the halls, Apollo noticed another pair of angels, one very talkative and the other silent, and looked at the two in interest. As the one with green eyes glanced at him, nodding stiffly in greeting, Apollo felt his wings bristle beneath the suit from uneasiness. Looking away quickly, he was going to ask Macbeth about it, but noticed his drooping eyelids, and kept his questions to himself. Apollo slowed, allowing the busy couple to go ahead, and saw that their room was near Macbeth's and his own.
Going into their own room, Macbeth headed inside and Apollo was once again stricken by the majesty of the environment outside the room, the deep ink of the night bleeding into the room. Driven away by the lights as they automatically flickered on, Apollo immediately took off his suit shirt and undershirt so that his chest and muscled abdomen were bare. His darkened wings fluffed out, calming from their irritation, and he stretched his arms up toward the ceiling. He caught Macbeth looking, and smiled at the attention, watching him loosen his bow tie. Hearing him suggest a bath, Apollo replied,
Thanks Macbeth. We've had a long day.
Waiting for Macbeth to finish setting up the bath, Apollo retrieved a faded t-shirt and sweat pants for sleeping in, and took them into the bathroom with him. Macbeth exited when finished, and told Apollo that he'd be sleeping, and Apollo nodded in acknowledgement, closing the door to the bathroom and taking his clothes off.
Laying in the steaming water, Apollo allowed himself to recline against the wall and rest himself from the day's events. Reflecting on everything that happened, he spent a good 30 minutes cleaning himself, pondering on who the mysterious angels were, lingering on the several ways he could harm the Head Angel, and wandering towards thoughts of the purity angel he had by his side. Everything's much more complicated when you're not taking the souls of dying humans, he murmured, and came out of the tub, taking the plug from the drain and setting it to the side of the faucet.
There were numerous ways the fragile bodies of the people on Earth could die, Apollo thought as he slid his sweatpants on, such as burning to death in a house fire or getting their heads smashed through the windshield of a smashed car. No matter how, he thought as he put the shirt on, no matter when or why, Apollo was there, to take the suffering souls from their mangled bodies, in sickness and in health, in poorness or in wealth. Apollo was always busy, staining his hands with the blood of thousands of humans, forgetting his humanity along the way.
Shaking his head of the thoughts, he headed into the dark room, dressed in his 'pajamas', and viewed Macbeth, so vulnerable and innocent in this state... remembering the deaths of sick children, leaving the physical realm in their sleep, in the most peaceful manner. Apollo took the blankets and placed them on top of Macbeth, tenderly placing a pillow beneath his head. Laying next to him, he snuggled into the warmth of the bed and put his back to Macbeth's, soon finding himself asleep and experiencing his always-disturbed dreams.
As Macbeth sat down, Apollo smiled wider and took another drink of the liquid. Digging in to the meal, he grabbed himself some garden salad, drizzling plenty of ranch on it, as well a couple slices of ham along with buttery mashed potatoes. As he was about to begin eating, however, he noticed that Macbeth had been silent the whole time, seeming tense. He didn't ask, though, and allowed Macbeth to stew in his thoughts. When he was finished with the food, he sighed contentedly and watched the conversing angels.
Soon after, the Head Angel had stood up and clanged his glass, catching everyone's ears and attention. Seeing his arms outstretched, they too extended their own glasses, but Apollo glanced at Macbeth with a curious glance. Looking back to the H.A. as he begun to speak, he smiled at the first part, but the smile fell when he hesitated, and added an unneeded comment. Blushing slightly, he muttered a thank you, and looked at Macbeth, who was currently studying his food very intently. Apollo heard the chatter around them revert to the mocking of Macbeth, and he stood up to get away from the table before he broke a heavy goblet over one of their heads.
Standing near a large window, he stared out into the night, clearly seeing the reflection of everything behind him, and himself, against the dark pane. Thinking deeply, he hadn't noticed Macbeth walking towards him until their hands were connected. Apollo looked to him with a small smile, letting him take the lead, since he knew where everything was. As Macbeth explained their reason for leaving the party, Apollo nodded in understanding and smiled in sympathy as he commented,
I'm glad to leave those jerks. They've no need to talk about you like that.
Apollo's eyes widened in surprise as Macbeth pulled his hand onto his hip, blushing a bit more deeply with the intimacy. He looked at Macbeth's own flushed face, and recognized that he had a slight buzz, and remembered that Macbeth was a purity angel and probably was a lightweight. Not that it was a problem, that was just his nature.
Walking through the halls, Apollo noticed another pair of angels, one very talkative and the other silent, and looked at the two in interest. As the one with green eyes glanced at him, nodding stiffly in greeting, Apollo felt his wings bristle beneath the suit from uneasiness. Looking away quickly, he was going to ask Macbeth about it, but noticed his drooping eyelids, and kept his questions to himself. Apollo slowed, allowing the busy couple to go ahead, and saw that their room was near Macbeth's and his own.
Going into their own room, Macbeth headed inside and Apollo was once again stricken by the majesty of the environment outside the room, the deep ink of the night bleeding into the room. Driven away by the lights as they automatically flickered on, Apollo immediately took off his suit shirt and undershirt so that his chest and muscled abdomen were bare. His darkened wings fluffed out, calming from their irritation, and he stretched his arms up toward the ceiling. He caught Macbeth looking, and smiled at the attention, watching him loosen his bow tie. Hearing him suggest a bath, Apollo replied,
Thanks Macbeth. We've had a long day.
Waiting for Macbeth to finish setting up the bath, Apollo retrieved a faded t-shirt and sweat pants for sleeping in, and took them into the bathroom with him. Macbeth exited when finished, and told Apollo that he'd be sleeping, and Apollo nodded in acknowledgement, closing the door to the bathroom and taking his clothes off.
Laying in the steaming water, Apollo allowed himself to recline against the wall and rest himself from the day's events. Reflecting on everything that happened, he spent a good 30 minutes cleaning himself, pondering on who the mysterious angels were, lingering on the several ways he could harm the Head Angel, and wandering towards thoughts of the purity angel he had by his side. Everything's much more complicated when you're not taking the souls of dying humans, he murmured, and came out of the tub, taking the plug from the drain and setting it to the side of the faucet.
There were numerous ways the fragile bodies of the people on Earth could die, Apollo thought as he slid his sweatpants on, such as burning to death in a house fire or getting their heads smashed through the windshield of a smashed car. No matter how, he thought as he put the shirt on, no matter when or why, Apollo was there, to take the suffering souls from their mangled bodies, in sickness and in health, in poorness or in wealth. Apollo was always busy, staining his hands with the blood of thousands of humans, forgetting his humanity along the way.
Shaking his head of the thoughts, he headed into the dark room, dressed in his 'pajamas', and viewed Macbeth, so vulnerable and innocent in this state... remembering the deaths of sick children, leaving the physical realm in their sleep, in the most peaceful manner. Apollo took the blankets and placed them on top of Macbeth, tenderly placing a pillow beneath his head. Laying next to him, he snuggled into the warmth of the bed and put his back to Macbeth's, soon finding himself asleep and experiencing his always-disturbed dreams.