Tar Tongue (temp closed)*

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  1. 'You're welcome here anytime, Azrael.'
    At the time, Azrael hadn't been sure if she even wanted to be welcomed to the Tar Tongue by her fellow fallen. Just 40 years before, they had all seemed as nervous, and maladjusted as she did. Being sent to live along side the mortal beings; It was as insane as it actually sounded. The Earth was not suited for Angel's, and if it had been they wouldn't have been called to heaven to serve. Why send them back then? The question had plagued Azrael's mind every day for 40 years. Neither drug, nor spirit could erase the thought. At least, not entirely. Some days, it was over shadowed by a new experience, or an anger that settled on her heart like a water-logged blanket. Never was the question completely gone from her, however.

    Azrael let the strong gusts of early winter wind knock her mass of knotted, and tangled curls about her head. The hefty brown spirals danced, and clung to the air without ceasing. Not even for a moment. No sane (average) person was supposed to be standing nearly 80 stories high, on the roof of a skyscraper. It was the only place in this City that Azrael could get some peace and quiet, however. To the west, she spotted the first signs of a storm on the horizon. Clouds as gray, and thick as ash trampled through the sky as if they were in a hurry to rain on some unsuspecting bystander. With a hardened look of disappointment, Azrael almost turned tail and hauled-ass back to the deserts of Africa. Where everything was on fire with heat, and there was space to run. 'You're welcome here anytime, Azrael.' That's what they said. Reminding herself of that was the only thing keeping her from blinking out of existence and back to the sand dunes she called home. Sucking in a mighty breath of air, Azrael ran the palm of her right hand over her cheek. 'Its time', she thought. It had been time. Shifting her weight onto her heels, the 6'3" amazon of a woman shot into the air like a rocket bound for outer space. Her destination was clear. North, to Tar Tongue.

    Azrael, being the extremely anti-social worrier that she was, wondered what her brothers, and sisters would think of her. More than positive that she looked like a wild animal standing on two legs (most of the time anyway), Azrael had tried to clean herself up a bit before she arrived. She wasn't quite sure how well it had worked however, as she hadn't been in the presence of another Angel in over 39 years. With her naturally dark brown skin, sun-bleached and burnt sandy brown hair (that had grown well past her waist, and begun to dread lock in some places), high angular cheek bones, and inky black single lidded eyes (and eye-whites) that made her appear more owl than human; Azrael was certain there was nothing remotely pleasing about her current state. 'You don't care, remember that.' she thought to herself. If she were as welcome as they said she was, then they would accept her. They would shut their gullets and not say a word about her outer appearance. They were her only family, after all.

    [I hereby declare this thread open! visit the ooc thread for sign-ups and plot information!]
    #1 ouc, Nov 4, 2014
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  2. Gabriel preferred to live in the slums.

    This was where humanity was at its worst, but also at its best. Someone could get murdered on second, and the next, someone might donate the little they had to a child. Humans were truly intriguing to him, with all of their emotion. Hope was the most enjoyable to observe. At first, they were full of hope, but as things progressively got worse, it would fade, until it didn't exist at all. It made Gabriel often wonder why they had bothered to hope in the first place. Maybe it was because it was all they had.

    But whatever.

    In any case, he had chosen to spend most of his eternal existence down here, where the poor wrecked havoc. He never could quite stand the stuck-up angels and humans who considered themselves to be at the very top of the chain. And so he had found himself a nice little place, one of the only places in the slum, and breathed easily, since it was rather hard for an archangel to get sick. He was one of the first of the archangels - had personally known Lucifer before he had fallen. Sometimes he still didn't agree with the reasons why he had fallen, but it wasn't really his business. Of course, he also knew Michael, Azrael, and all those other guys, but they weren't quite as interesting. Or at least, they hadn't been when all fifteen of the archangels had descended to Earth.

    Gabriel was quite grumpy on this day, because he'd have to go and visit all of his brothers and sisters at the Tar Tongue. It was an understatement to say he was dreading it. He planned to stay in his very 'human' appearance, because he honestly couldn't care about how the others thought of him. And so he took to the air, heading towards one of the places he dreaded the most. His short blonde-brown hair, freckled face, golden eyes, grey sweatshirt and jeans could be seen from the ground, but his three pairs of wings, spread wide, could not be seen by the human eye.
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  3. The air in the room was heavy with smoke, burning incense and candles, cigarettes and opium. The heat was intense, the smell nauseating and clinging around Michael, fogging up the dimly lit room and turning his half-lidded eyes red. He smiled lazily and stretched his legs, catlike, yawning big enough to show the golden stud on his tongue. Leaving his inebriated partner for the evening on the bed, he rose, and his dark red hair fell across his face. He crossed the room, feet padding softly on the burgundy floor, and over to his balcony. Pushing aside the red silk curtain, he stepped out into the night, and the moonlight illuminated the golden etchings on his tan skin. He'd had the markings as long as he remembered, since he came to this place. The languages varied, Enochian and Hebrew, Greek and Persian, but the writing running up and down his body was all the same. "Who is like God?" "God is great." "He who is closest to God."
    It was funny, now, how his partners traced the tattoos, the scars, like they had the right to. He let them, of course, he liked it. How ironic it was. He looked over his shoulder at his room, at his partner lying on the bed. He had been an impulse, pale skin and golden hair, but now, Michael was regretting it. He was beautifull, sure, and his touch gentle, but Michael found himself uninterested. So he had put him to sleep and stepped out.The clear air of the outside felt good, and he spread his four pairs of wings, huge and black, just to feel the wind rush through them. He stepped forward and leaned against the railing of the balcony, closed his eyes, and let his mind wander from the monotony of his evening. He would have to go soon, to Tar Tongue, but for now he could relax.
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  4. Asmodeus-- Or Oz, as he'd be going by during his time on the surface-- casually strolled through the streets in his more human guise, eying anything of interest. He'd been sent ahead of the others to basically scout out the surface... Report anything that could be dangerous or advantageous. It was well known that there were already Archangels hiding out on the world, but Oz had no interest in those silly beings. 'It's not difficult to guess where they're hiding out, either...' He thought, glancing up towards the skyscraper. The pompous building was so very like them...

    For the time being, Oz was simply looking around. He'd spend the next few months maybe finding a job, getting a house, assimilating into the culture in order to study the simple little beings that covered the surface. Naturally, a few of the first places he'd checked out had been casinos. They were all pathetic by his own standards... Perhaps that was something he needed to look into revising. Do the little creatures a favor...
    #4 Kaz, Nov 4, 2014
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  5. "Good Lor-" A stout man with a balding head, and a thick beard cut his exclamation short. He had been on the Earth far too long, that much was obvious. Not even Azrael had taken the Lords name in vein. Standing uncomfortably in front of the lounges double door entrance, Azrael rolled her eyes at the man, who she recognized as Jophiel. Ever the bearer of a bad joke, she couldn't say she missed him too terribly. Though his humor did serve to break the silence that had fallen over the room at her arrival. "Glad to have you back, girl." Jophiel snickered. His wide green eyes wrinkled at the edge as he smiled. "Very funny.." Azrael muttered through clenched teeth. Throughout time her gender had almost always been strictly male, that is, until Golden Day.

    Her eyes hadn't left the small sea of faces that bobbed around the room. She didn't recognize any of them. Where were the others? Golden Day was drawing near, they should have all been in the city by now. "They're coming. Don't look so lost!" Jophiel said with a short laugh. Azrael turned her attention from the room full of angel spawn, to the dining area. The scent of roasted goat had begun to make her mouth water. "I'll be over here, Jo. Call me when the others arrive.." Azrael had barely finished her sentence before she was off in search of food. Of course, she didn't need to eat, but she found food to be one of the few pleasures of living in the mortal world. Without it, the experience would be rather bleak.

    Taking a seat, and adjusting her legs to fit under the low dining table, Azrael was buzzing with anxiety. She was here, actually here, in Tar Tongue. In a short while she would be face to face with those whom she had spent eons living, fighting, and even dying a few times with.
    #5 ouc, Nov 4, 2014
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  6. After a moment, Michael turned and stepped back into his room, looked around for a moment and stepped forward, kneeling down to blow out his candles. The room was suddenly dark, and the shadows that had danced on the walls disappeared. He stepped over to the side of his bed and picked up his clothes, quickly dressing himself in his usual plain black, and leaned down over the bed, kissing the blond hair of the sleeping occupant. He'll find his way home. But, feeling a little guilty, he took what little money he had and left it on the night stand. He doubted he'd see him again.
    Michael turned and headed over to the balcony, took a step up onto the railing and took off. It didn't take him long to reach Tar Tongue, he never strayed far from the massive skyscraper. Landing softly, he stood tall and for once, left his wings outstretched. It felt good. He took a deep breath, and stepped through the doors, smiling a little softly at anyone who greeted him.
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  7. Angelo sat patiently in the uncomfortably firm office chair, politely allowing his boss to rip him a new one. With fervency and zeal, the puffy and beet-faced business man raged on about deadlines having to be met, standards having to be upheld and unruly staff having to be punished for their actions. Nodding politely in complete disinterest as the spew of words continued, Angelo smiled within his mind. Although the appearance of the man who sat in front of him was enough to bring a smile to even the sternest, that wasn't what was amusing him. The fact that this was the fortieth time he had been in this office, just this month, was really working a number on his funny bone. You see, Angelo was unusual. Not just in the conventional sense. He was unique in a much more special way.

    He discovered his unusual nature when he was a young boy. Nine years old, to be precise. At the time, he had lived in the upper districts with his parents, in a luxurious two story home bedecked with all the latest finery. His parents could afford such things because they were both real estate agents, and needless to say, they excelled in their fields. They had been unloading a new and very expensive sectional couch, which they had purchased at a local glitz and glamour store, when Angelo discovered his gift. He remembered that his father, mother and two others had been moseying their way up the driveway with the couch in tow, grunting at every movement. It must have been very heavy, judging by everyone's sweaty faces and heavy breathing.

    Angelo was following behind them timidly, feeling fairly useless. Having been taught to be a helper, he was anxious at the fact he could do nothing here. As the group slowly made their way towards the front door, they encountered one of the concrete steps. Angelo was unsure of who had forgotten it was there; nonetheless, they did. Starting with his father tripping, the whole group fell towards the house. The couch came down on them all. When it did, it killed his father, smashing his head against the concrete with one of its feet. The rest of the group were merely bruised. As soon as Angelo saw the blood, he panicked. "Mom! Somethings happened to Father! Help him! Help him!" Angelo screamed urgently. His mother roused quickly, moving to her husbands side. Angelo was quickly at his side too, as were the two additional helpers. It didn't take long to realize what had happened.

    His mother knelt beside the body, cradling it in her arms. Tears were flowing down her face, a look of utter disbelief on her face. The other two were also shocked; stunned into silence. Only Angelo made a sound. With a loud voice, he cried to God. "I wish daddy back God! We always pray to you for help when we eat, so please, help my daddy now!" Suddenly, everything froze around Angelo. The very air seemed to have stopped. Looking around with a puzzled face, Angelo watched as the flow of time reversed. It looked as if they were winding back a dvd, only the dvd was real life. He was overjoyed when he saw the blood go back into his father's head. Soon his father was in an upright position, holding the couch as before with his mother and the other two. "Okay!" Angelo said, hands held up like a magician, "Play!" As soon as he said that, the flow of time resumed. He was able to save his father from the fall. Ever since, he had used the ability and even found a few others. However, he never discovered where they came from.

    "Excuse me sir," Angelo said, cutting his boss off mid-sentence, "but I really don't have time to hear all this." It took a moment for his boss to register what he had said. "WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME BOY?" the man sputtered, face looking near combustion. Angelo waved goodbye, a goofy grin covering his face. As expected, time suddenly began to reverse. Angelo was returning to the error that had brought him to the hot seat of his boss's office in the first place. He had forgotten to turn in one of his presentations last night, which happened to be very important. Like he cared. Continuing through the past, he finally resumed the flow once he arrived at his apartment studio the night before. It was a cute little place, located in the heart of the slums. A bit trashy, but cute. He was now sitting in his cramped studio chair, rubbing his head. Time travel always made him a bit disoriented. Scattered before him on his office desk was the presentation, half finished. He had dozed off last time he tried to finish it. Sighing as last nights fatigue plagued him once more, Angelo got up and strode to the kitchen, removing the coffee pot from the coffee maker. "Thank God for coffee and time travel." Angelo said softly.
    #7 Whispers_of_imagination, Nov 4, 2014
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  8. After having several servings of roasted goat, smothered in some kind of spicy dark brown paste, Azrael let out a very unladylike grunt. A server fluttered about in front of her, collecting the soiled dishes and unused utensils from the table. The small woman (who was quite obviously a human) never let her eyes rest directly on Azrael, not even when she offered to fetch her a glass of wine. Not used to such treatment, Azrael was unsure of how to respond. Did all humans fear angels this much? What had the others done to make it so this poor soul couldn't even bring herself to look Azrael in the eye? Spending time in the wild, counting and logging each and every human death in her head had really left Azrael out of the loop. Were they keeping humans as slaves now? The father would not be happy to hear about this.

    "No, thank you." Azrael said calmly. The woman nodded her head once, and hurried off with the dishes. Had she walked any faster she might have tripped over her own feet.

    Shaking her head, Azrael leaned herself against the high back of the chair she sat in. Taking another long look around, she was shocked at how..busy her brothers had been in the last 40 years. There were probably over 200 hybrids alone in this one room. Who knew how many more were out there in the world. Azrael felt the pit of her stomach begin to twist and shake. Was this envy that she was feeling? Was she envious of her kin for being able to create life with just their loins? It was silly, she knew it was, but that didn't stop the feelings she had. They were able to make proper use of their time here on Earth, while Azrael spent her years guiding the dead into the heavens.

    Jophial had had enough of the incense smoke and alcohol for one day. He found it hard to stay in one place for too long, especially when it was a place where everyone already knew all of his jokes. So he left Tar Tongue, and decided to find a nice cafe wherein he could tell a few humans his best zingers.

    The streets weren't crowded. There were storm clouds moving in over the city, and he guessed that had something to do with it. "Ahh, bad timing." Jophial grumbled to himself as he strolled down the sidewalk that led into the Restaraunt district. He had only been walking for a few minutes before he felt it, or rather, smelled it. Sulfur. The scent of Hell and all things evil, and unholy. There was no doubt in Jophial's mind that the man he spotted across the busy city street, walking in the opposite direction was indeed a demon.

    A demon. On Earth. This was definite cause for alarm.

    Narrowing his eyes, Jophial watched the olive skinned underground dweller saunter down the sidewalk as if it belonged to him. As if he belonged there. In his mind, Jophial was sending off alarm bells to every known angel walking the earth at that very moment. To archangels, the bells would sound like those of a church. Loud, deep, and crystal clear. To hybrid angels, the bells were quiet. A soft sound coming from all around.

    Demon. Asmodeus.

    The message hit Azrael like an 18 wheeler. There had not been a message like that since the dark ages. No one rang the bell unless--there was a demon.
    #8 ouc, Nov 4, 2014
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  9. Angelo had been preparing to pour himself a cup of joe when he heard it. Though soft, the slight and abrupt sound of ringing bells caused him to jump with surprise. In doing so, he succeeded in splashing a bit of the liquid onto his shirt. "Aw hell!" he said, frustration causing him to jam the coffee pot back into the maker. Though he knew it wouldn't do any good, Angelo rubbed the area of his shirt a bit, shaking his head. Curse his clumsiness. Straightening his shirt slightly and returning to his task of pouring his beverage, Angelo listened intently. The sound had disappeared. "Hmmph." he mused, successfully filling his cup. Must have been his imagination.

    With exhausted shufflings, Angelo's legs dutifully dragged him back to his office to complete his work. He groaned a bit as he settled back into his chair, bloodshot eyes settling onto the mess of papers and utensils splayed before him. He was certainly not looking forward to it. Setting down his cup of coffee, Angelo picked up his pencil and leaned in, gearing himself for the long haul. Just then, that sound fired up again; It was a bit louder this time. "Now what in the HELL is that?" Angelo said, rising. The noise was all over the place. Not even the keenest animal could pinpoint the source of this ambiance.

    Walking towards his door, Angelo slipped on a pair of shoes and headed outside. He could hear the sound a bit louder this time, but still couldn't pinpoint the source. Nevertheless, something inside him told him that whatever it was, it was very important that he investigate. "I like the time travel Lord, but if you gave me some kind of stupid ability to hear bells from miles away..." Angelo muttered to himself, heading down his apartment steps and onto the street. Despite his complaining, he had a feeling that this wasn't something as stupid as what he had suggested.

    With resolute steps, Angelo walked further into town. Soon, the Tar Tongue had come into view, as well as many of the shops and buildings that huddled around it like enthralled fans basking in it's glory. Angelo gazed up disgustedly. Upper class citizens were the only ones allowed up there. It pretty much represented all the yuppities who looked down on people like him. Spitting on the ground in contempt, Angelo looked back to the sidewalk ahead of him. His strange new sense told him that he was very close to whatever it had drawn him out here to show him. The bells were ringing much louder now.
    #9 Whispers_of_imagination, Nov 4, 2014
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  10. Suddenly feeling as though something was off, Oz paused mid-stride and brought a hand to his chin in thought. His brows rose in realization as a particular smell hit his own nose. It was very subtle, very... Sweet. In fact, it was almost euphoric. It was the smell of something holy. It was quite safe to say he'd been noticed. Curious, but not perturbed, the demon turned where he stood, casting a glance towards the Archangel eying him. He didn't recognize the man. Not that he would-- He'd never met any holy beings, personally. Especially not the high and mighty archangels. Not quite what he'd expected, he had to admit.

    Chuckling softly at his thoughts, he simply shook his head, turning back around and continuing on his way. He sort of figured he wouldn't get too far now that the silly little angels had probably gone and pegged him as a threat. Not that they were wrong, per se, it was just a little presumptuous, don't you think?
  11. The bells. It had been a long time, but the sound was still familiar to Michael. It brought back memories. Standing barefoot on a battlefield, blood and ichor pooled at his feet. The heat of his flaming sword in his hand, taken from God himself's armory. Clashing with Lucifer, stepping on his back, pinning his head to the ground with just the ball of his foot. He blinked, and the memories disappeared. Michael grinned.
    He glanced over his shoulder, searching for another archangel. Spotting Azrael, he waved a little, catching her eye. He tilted his head, birdlike, and gestured for him to join him. Standing, he spread his wings, and left Tar Tongue, taking a steep nose dive to the concrete. He spread his wings and pulled out at the last minute, landing lightly on the concrete. He could smell it. Demon. It tore at his nose, pungent. But, although he would never admit it, not unpleasant. He turned and spotted him, across the street. Pushing his red hair out of his face, he smiled, and waved playfully. Sparks jumped from his fingers. He missed this.
  12. Azrael sat still for a moment longer. The last person she expected to see in Tar Tongue was Michael. He had always seemed like the type to spend his time somewhere less crowded. Finally, Azrael got to her feet. Being careful not to knock the table in front of her over in her haste, she hurried to the Lounges marble balcony and without hesitating, threw herself head-first over the edge. The wind snatched her knotted mane of hair behind her, and cut at her clothes like knives. It was cold, and Azrael couldn't stand it for much longer. Stretching out her enormous wings, Azrael used them to slow her descent, and eventually to help her land without cracking the concrete sidewalk. Sparing a quick glance to Michael and Jophiel, she nodded once. There was no point in even looking for the demon, any angel within a five mile radius could have caught his scent in the air. "What are you thinking, Jo?" Azrael asked quietly. Her solid, black eyeballs twitched as she followed Asmodeus's movements. He didn't seem to be making any trouble, and she was sure he had noticed the small audience his presence had procured.

    With a wispy sigh, Jophiel clasped his hands together and turned to face Azrael and Michael. "I'm thinking we make sure the Father knows of this, and we keep this..person under close observation for as long as he is in our city." There was not a hint of humor in Jophiel's tone. It was rare that one got to see him acting to mature. Tightening her lips into a straight line, Azrael decided it was best to follow along with that plan. No matter how uneasy a demon's presence made her. "Do you agree, Michael?" Azrael asked, turning her attention to him now.
  13. "Aw, I was hoping I'd get to play with him a little." Michael smiled softly and licked his lips, taking a few seconds to tear his gaze away from the demon and look at the others. "I haven't held my sword in so long." He sighed, a wisp of black smoke came from his mouth. "That's what the father would want us to do, though. Shame. I can watch him if you like, though." He tilted his head a little, paused, and laughed softly "...I'll only kill him a little." His wings fluttered slightly and he silently hoped his anticipation wasn't as visible as he thought it was.
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  14. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled at the holy creatures began to gather. Though it would be in his right mind to be worried, Asmodeus could only be further amused. They were gathering like little pigeons, it was adorable. Or maybe vultures... What was the holy equivalent of a vulture? That aside, Oz couldn't bring himself to be worried. Not when most of these archangels smelled so deliciously of corruption.

    Perhaps he was a little jaded on the subject, but to be struck down by an archangel that reeks of sex and, dare he say it, sodomy? Now, that would just be hilarious. He was always a stickler for some good irony... But, he knew they would leave him alone for the time being. Maybe keep an eye on him, try to figure out what he was up to... He'd expected as much when he had first made his way to the surface.
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  15. Gabriel had almost reached the building when he felt a shift in the atmosphere.
    Archangels had the ability to do that, but demons did as well. And right now, the atmosphere was not pleasant. It was full of tension, and something much darker, much more evil. The repulsive scent drifting through the air was enough to tell the archangel that the problem was, in fact, a demon. Redirecting his course, Gabriel redirected his course from the looming building to the cold, grey concrete. Adjusting his many wings, he allowed himself to half glide and half fall to the ground.

    His feet touched the concrete gently. He was close to the scene, it was just around the corner. Breaking into a sprint, he ran, eating up the sidewalk underneath him. Luckily, there was no one around to run into, and he rounded the corner without incident. There, he found himself next to Michael, with Azrael and Josphiel standing nearby. Of course, the demon was there too, strange and ominous in all ways possible. Gabriel huffed slightly from running so quickly, it was true that he was out of shape. Not enough to be chubby, but just enough to make him easily exhausted.
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  16. Strange how the most amazing and shocking events tend to happen when you least expect them. One minute you're walking down the street, innocently rounding a corner, and the next you find yourself witnessing the graceful landings of two very powerful looking Angels. Strange indeed. Upon seeing them, Angelo hadn't contained his amazement one bit. With wide eyes and a shout, Angelo reeled backwards, taking cover behind the corner store wall. His breathing was heavy and he was clutching his chest. Thoughts began to run through his head like wildfire. In the past, people had made mention about the presence of Angels in the city. However, he had always counted all that as religious superstition. After all, he had never personally witness the arrival of those celestial beings, so why would he believe they were dwelling among the people? Sure, he had always acknowledged the truth behind unseen angels who protected you throughout your life, but real life PHYSICAL ANGELS just hanging about? That seemed so unusual.

    And yet, here they were.

    Recovering slowly, Angelo took the liberty of glancing around the corner once more. The angels were still there, having light conversation with each other. One seemed to be a bit riled up. The other was very calm and collected. Running his hand through his hair, Angelo wondered why the other civilians on the street couldn't see the huge winged beings. Sure they looked at them, but their glances didn't reveal anything to say they had just witnessed a humanoid with a very large wingspan. Either they were very intoxicated, or HE was the only one who could see them for what they truly were. That would indicate something more deeply profound about his...uniqueness. And so, against all better judgement, Angelo decide to approach. He swallowed hard and began walking towards them.
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  17. Michael turned when Gabriel arrived and waved a little. "Hello Gabriel. Been awhile." He tilted his head and smiled softly, although, he expected, it probably wasn't very comforting, coming from him. He hesitated, something was off. He turned and looked over his shoulder, looking just in time to see someone duck behind the corner. He sniffed. A hybrid? Why was he hiding? Taking a step forward, he tried to tilt his body slightly to see who it was, without appearing conspicuous. He sniffed again, and tucked his wings close to his body.
    "There's someone over there..." Michael squinted a little before shrugging and turning his attention back to the demon. He grinned at him again. When he looked back at the corner, the hybrid was walking towards them. He tilted his head at him and crossed his arms. "Can we help you?"
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  18. Gabriel grinned back at Michael - even if he often was a senseless jerk. Either way, he was still his brother, and Gabriel loved him. They had been some of the first angels, and even the first few archangels, to ever exist. And since that had been the case, Gabriel had been very close to Michael, Raphael, and even Lucifer before he had fallen. He wasn't exactly sure where their relationships stood now, but he hoped that they weren't on terrible turns. But right now Gabriel could see the familiar bloodlust in Michael's eyes, and it scared him. He remembered the last time this had happened: the fight with Lucifer, Satan himself.

    The scent of something strange reached his nose - the scent of a hybrid. And when Michael turned around, Gabriel knew his nose wasn't telling any lies. The archangel turned as well, wanting to see what Michael was so intrigued with. Laying his golden eyes on the approaching creature, Gabriel inspected him from top to bottom. It was strange that a hybrid should approach them randomly, and so Gabriel was judging how difficult it would be to end him.
  19. Angelo tried his best to appear confident and non-threatening as one of the angels addressed him. Placing his hands in his pockets, Angelo replied, "Yeah. You know, I think you can." A nervous chill crept up his spine as Angelo noticed the other angel. He was very regal looking, with an unnatural feel surrounding his person. His eyes were locked onto Angelo, appraising him with acute intensity. And even though the gaze frightened him, Angelo was compelled to meet the angels gaze briefly. They were gold, and seemed to pierce right through his flesh. They kinda gave him the willies. Shivering, he looked back to the angel addressing him.

    "I know this sounds crazy..." Angelo began, "but I was drawn here by the sound of ringing bells in my head." Allowing a pause for emphasis, he continued. "I have no idea why, okay. Today has been weird as hell." By the time he finished this sentence, Angelo had drawn within conversational distance of the angels. He could now see how much taller than him they were. "I know you guys are angels." Angelo said unashamedly, gesturing towards their backs. "I saw your wings." The hybrid spoke in a hushed tone, so as not to draw to much attention. There were still a lot of folks milling about around them, and he wasn't about to draw a crowd.

    "As such, I saw it fit to ask you guys some questions, since you have a direct connection to the Big Guy in the sky." Angelo jerked his thumb upwards pointedly. He knew it was iffy, but perhaps their communication with God would help him to understand why he was so different from others. "Here's the first one." Angelo said, holding up his hand with one finger extended. With a large shrugging motion to accent his question, Angelo asked, "Why do I have the ability to time travel, have a mental ringing bells GPS and have the ability to see angels when others can't?" Finishing his exaggerated shrug, Angelo placed his hands on his hips. "I can't exactly ask my family doctor these things, so I figured I'd ask someone that won't look at me like I've skipped a dose of my meds."
    #19 Whispers_of_imagination, Nov 9, 2014
    Last edited: Nov 9, 2014
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