She wasn't sure what in Sam's hell had possessed her to block that Semper from stabbing Arrow- she damn well knew he had it under control- but no.. She'd stepped in, like some self-righteous moron. She hadn't felt any physical pain, per say, it felt more like being torn from the inside out..

That's what happens when a soul weapon hits your heart..

Well..

Now she knew..

She grunted softly from her place on what she assumed was the ground. It felt like a stone walkway, if she guessed, the gritty feeling of rocks and the somewhat sour smell of the air around her scaring her more than just silence. And that was saying something...

It took her several minutes to calm the agonizing burn that slid through her torso, her eyes flinching when they strained, and finally fluttered open. She was almost half tempted to close them when she met sight with only darkness. She could make out vague shapes in the black around her, what looked like buildings, and large walls of stone.. The ceiling was much to high for her to see, but there was an inky sort of blackness that kept her from wanting to. Everything smelled old and damp, and vaguely of sour milk or trash.

She slowly took a moment to sit up from the ground, glaring around her vaguely before she focused on her hearing. There were no nearby voices, and she couldn't sense any nearby souls. She groaned a little in fatigue as she lifted her hands, using her knuckles to grit at her eyes, however, when small, pudgy stumps greeted her line of sight, she stilled, eyes popping open as she glared down at... her... hands...

They were... a lot smaller than she remembered...

Did they always look like an infants..?

It took her another few minutes to find the energy to get to her knees, crawling slowly along the dirt before she set out to find a less open place..

Who knew what lurked in the darkness around her...

Off in the distance, she could hear drunken ramblings, occasional fights, loud, strained laughter, shouting, and noise. There was little light, but what was provided came in the form of streetlight candles, lining a musty cobble road. There were only-western styled buildings of stone and wood, signs with a foreign language immediately translating into things like Tavern or Brothel or Pawn shoppe. It was enough to make her flinch.

It took her a few precious seconds to slip into a nearby alley, calming her frantic heartbeat enough to take inventory.

Okay.. Arrow was gone.

Fuck, that wasn't good. What else?

She had her previous clothes, apparently.. The once tight, long sleeve black turtleneck now almost a knee-length dress, the sleeves trailing well past her hands and brushing the ground. First things first, she rolled up the sleeves, and glared at her already previously overly large trousers, but she was now swimming in her cargo pants with obvious distaste, the only thing keeping them on her body was the thick, black leather belt. Her boots were gone, not that she as surprised, she could probably fit her fairy feet into a cup measure now.. They were never large to begin with.

Her necklace had stayed, much to her shock, but, overly shocking, was the golden pocket watch now tucked into her cargo pants pocket. A quick flick of the wrist opened it, and she was met face to face with the rippling opal "mirror" on the top section. Her Travel watch survived, then.. At least that meant she wasn't completely dead.. Speaking of.. Arrow had a bit of explaining to do... He'd said a Semper knife killed angels.. but if that was a Semper in Sythe's hand.. Then..

Why was she still alive..?

No.

Don't even think about it.

Focus on the now.

Natasha took a deep calming breath, before she braced herself. She was going to need to find a safe place to rest for a while... The things she'd need to Create would no doubt drain her already fatigued body to it's limit.. It didn't help that she probably looked four, either.. She felt four, that's for sure.. Just without the limitless supply of energy she had at that age..

A quick peek along the mouth of the disgustingly filthy alley gave way to her fears.

Wherever she was, the technology was far from being up to her standards. The roads were lined with dingy sorts of wares carts and large crates, some abandoned, others filled with things she could only guess. The only light sources she could find came from lamp posts with candles or torches on walls. It almost looked to be late seventeenth-early eighteenth century-type clothing and surroundings..

She was scared to see the bathrooms...

Taking a final, bracing breath, the teen- now child- squared her shoulders, clenching her jaw as she flicked her fingers in a snap. Once. Twice. Three times.

Once for a messenger bag, once to change clothes, and once to make a mirror.

Her fears were confirmed.

She flicked her wrist, and the mirror disappeared taking the dirty, golden-eyed, pale skinned, silver-haired four-year old reflection with it. Unable to do much about her physical body (Damn Arrow and his quantum theories) She made do with tugging a large hooded, but child-sized cloak around her body, the cape piece low enough to barely brush the ground, but the hood large enough and thick enough to hide her hair and eyes. She took a moment to tie back her hair, check her runnable black kids sneakers, the now yoga-like black pants, and the thick turtleneck grey sweater.

Black gloves practically molded to her hands encased her fingers, and she tucked the bag beneath her cloak, keeping it close to her side before she left the darkened hole of an alley.

She slipped past the oblivious drunks who trickled around the streets, slipping through the muddled crowds of displeased citizens, and avoided the brothels at all costs.

Just because she was small did not mean she would be put on the black market..

It was then that she saw it.

That annoying, yet symbolic shield on the back of a pudgy-man's jacket..

The blue unicorn.

She wanted to throw up.


Two days of walking brought her immeasurable fatigue and severe headaches.. Having to create her food and no energy-reviving sleep was putting a serious tole on her psych right now..

Two days of walking also brought her about ten attempted muggings, often by other, starving children (who she promptly set straight with a thwack to the head and, if she found the need to, handed them clothes and food she had "stored" in her bag, on the condition that they tone it down with the violence and gave her their names.)

She made a few friends, at least.

Two days of walking gave her about thirty homeless dogs, at least twice as many cats, (Taking time to give eat a large share of created meat) and hundreds and hundreds of human glares..

At least, she surmised, she would be safe, so long as she kept her guard up.

Something that was getting harder and harder to do-

"Hey, you brat-!"

She flinched in her steps, turning her head just enough to see a pot-belied Military Officer shoot her a death-glare. Not good. She turned on her heel and continued to walk, albeit a bit faster, this time.

"Yes, you, brat-! Get back here-!"

Rather than running like a fugitive, she decided to see where it went, stopping in her tracks just long enough before facing the now stalking forward male. He looked about late thirties, but looks could be deceiving. He could be fifty..

"Yes sir?" she asked politely, keeping her voice low and well mannered. The man eyed her shrewdly, looking her up and down with obvious disgust. He had his fat, pudgy hands fisted at his sides, where two long, box-like contraptions sat, and if she were to circle him, she'd be able to see the cylindrical fan at the small of his back.

"Who the hell do you think you are, brat?" he spat, nearly hitting her shoes, had she not hopped-back pre-spit. "I saw you handing off that meat to those street rats- where the hell did you get it-?!"

Oh shit...

She forgot meat was rare.

Fuck me.

"My daddy gave it to me," she answered in her best, clueless, innocent voice. He didn't look any nicer, unfortunately. "Yeah," he hissed, bending over so he was closer to her, and she could smell his rancid breath, mixed with alcohol, "And where did he get it..?"

"The market," she tilted her head, watching as his eye twitched. There was about a sixty-two percent chance he was going to swing at her, and she acted accordingly, she may as well make the best of it, yeah? "Isn't that where you get your meat, officer..?" She couldn't resist.. "Or did you spend all our wasted tax money we give your fat-asses to buy more booze..?"

He stilled, looking at her with rigid shock, before he swung his inebriated arm forward, either to hit, or grab, she was unaware, but acted on the assumption that she should and would definitely-

RUN-!

The bolted in the opposite direction like Bao was on her heels, her eyes wide as she hopped over crates and side-stepped the filthy street-walkers. She'd heard his enraged shout, followed by several more nearby, and she was now in a very dangerous situation..

Getting chased by about five people...

In the Underground of Wall Sina...

OH FUCK.


Farlan wasn't honestly prepared to see what he had at the "market" that day..

Sure, he'd seen orphans getting chased by Military police or by shop owners before.. He'd seen them publicly humiliated or beaten.. No, what surprised him was the large number of Military police that were following just a single child.. Said child being about up to his thigh, if that, and vaulting over things like a trained animal.

His eyes followed the small black blur as it vaulted over crates, slipped through crowds and, he noted, managed to spring from a cart top onto a cloth roof.

He watched the child waver for a moment, turning their eyes back to watch the drunken, slightly sober, scrambling men try to cut through the masses, and, he watched, with a slight smile on his lips, holding in his laughter, as the child swung the cape aside, presenting their backside and tapping it mockingly, before hooking their hands to the building, and starting to climb.

That wasn't a good move on their part, he idly mused, watching as the Military police managed to get in an open enough space to shoot their maneuver gear into the lines of buildings, the whistling of the wires jarring faint surprise onto the child's face, before it twisted into a cruel smirk.

He almost felt a hint of fear at that look. Sticking to the shadows, he brought his own gear out to shoot into a nearby alley, poking his head around the stone to watch as the child jumped and twisted around smoke pipes and stone. He could see the Military swinging nearby, blood lust in their eyes as they tried to follow, but the ducking and weaving increased as they swooped down to catch him.

He watched the child jump, his jaw falling slack as the child twisted midair, turning just enough so that their eyes were on the swooping solider. A small foot connected with a stubble-smattered face, and the officer was sent careening to the side, hooks flailing as the child ducked from another swoop, and began running again. Rather than reaching the end of the roof and backtracking, like he imagined, his muscles tensed as the child took a running leap off of it and into another alley. Unprepared for the sudden dive, the Military had to double back after several blocks, but by the time they returned, only their enraged shouting could be heard.

They were not pleased.

With a long, strained sigh, he shook his head, spinning on his heel to go back to the mouth of the alley. However, he stumbled a bit, looking down with a sudden jerk to see a small boy standing in front of him, barely reaching his thighs as they played with the end of his maneuver gear. He binked slowly down at the small child, who seemed to have paused their inspection to crane their neck up at him. His eyebrows raised slowly, his body stilling completely while they held each other in a stare down.

For several moments, it was absolutely silent, until the smallest twitch of the lips, and he watched as the child started to chuckle, then slowly giggle, before full-blown laughing.

"D-Did you see that-?!" he burst out in front of him, doubling over as he held their gut in their little arms, "T-.. They hit the roofs like- Poof- and- and that other guy went -THWACK-! And-And-!" The child cut into veracious laughter again, and he took his time to study them, crouching down so he was closer to their height as they huddled near the black market.

"What's your name, kid?" he asked slowly, watching as the boy slowly calmed, and gave him a bright grin, "Can't tell ya."

He was surprised, but not as much as he should be, "And why not?"

"Because I don't know yours," he stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "You're a stranger-!"

"I could hand you over to the Military police," he said in a slightly teasing tone, "They could find your parents for you."

"But you wont," they sounded smug, and he almost backtracked at the pure look of irony on their face. deep-set golden eyes watching him fiercely.

"And why not..?" he asked slowly, cautiously, as he watched them fold their arms over their chests.

"Because that's as good as turning yourself in, stupid," the kid rolled his eyes, and he flinched, watching wide-eyed as the kid pulled a bag out from beneath their thick black cloak, opening the flap and digging though it with concentration, the their body blocked him from risking a peak inside. "That gear is for Military officials, only. You stole it, didn't you..?"

"How would you know if I'm not from the Military?" he asked almost curiously, this kid was weird.. and weirder than Underground kid weird..

"You talk about the Military as if in third person," they eyed him with an intensity that almost had him swallowing spit, "This would mean you'd be out of uniform with gear, which is prohibited..." They leaned forward, and in their outstretched hand, they held a large, shiny red apple out to the blonde, his eyebrows long since in his hairline as he watched them offer the rare fruit. "Not to mention you were hiding from them.."

"How do you know I was hiding from them," he eyed him with suspicion now.

"I didn't until you confirmed it," the kid suddenly chirped, and the expression fell from his face. His face dull and deadpanned, he watched the kid toss the apple lightly in the air. He was tempted to catch it from hitting the ground, but they caught it, however, and he continued to watch them play with the rare fruit. Had he not been watching it so intensely, he would have dropped it when it was tossed to him, his fingers clasping around the bright red fruit before he darted his eyes back to the kid, who was now looking at some shiny, golden pocket watch.

The brief estimate of the object had him wondering about it's origin and value, but a look at the scornful expression the child directed at it had him pausing. It probably didn't even work.

"Well," the kid looked up, closing the watch with a flick of their wrist and eyeing the blonde coolly, "Are you gonna eat it or not..?"

He blinked at the kid slowly, before trailing his eyes to the fruit. "How do I know you didn't poison it..?"

"If I wanted you dead you'd be dead," the child blinked, completely at ease with the statement, while he tensed, "And I would hope it wasn't poisonous, I've had about nine in the last two days.."

"How."

He was watching her intently, now, any fruit that found it's way to the Underground vendors was usually already bruised, or close to becoming spoiled, though this one looked absolutely fresh, or "just picked" like Isabel called them. How could this kid have so many-

"I have meat, too," the kid offered casually, their expression calm, "I could share if you like. It's not hard to have more."

And this kid was officially insane.

"Where do you get this stuff..?" he asked slowly, watching as they merely smiled, and kept quiet, watching him with an innocent expression he now confirmed to be false. This kid was dangerous.. but still..

"I'm Farlan."

The kid looked shocked by the revelation, eyeing him with obvious surprise, as if they suspected he wouldn't tell them. After a few moments, the kid smiled, holding out a gloved hand with a sloppy grin.

"Nice to meet you, Farlan, my name's Natasha."


ANGEL CASE FILES

FILE #1

SEMPERS

Semper- Latin for Evermore-

Semper- An angelic blade gifted to angels upon first creation, though unlocked through special riTe of passage to be able to summon freely. Semper's are the only weapons able to kill both angels, and fallen angels, but they do have the ability to act as regular weapons to the supernatural with similar effects.

Semper weapons are only able to be used b their wielder, as they are extensions of an angel's soul.

Semper's do not physically harm the body. They merely bright the intended amount of damage physically into the spiritual aspect of a human.

Example, if an angel were to stab the heart of a victim, the physical heart would be untouched, but the soul would die.

If an angel were to cut off a victim's hand, the blade would phase through the wrist, not affecting the body, but draw pain to the soul. Bringing the desired amount of pain or disuse.