10. The Fallen
Smoke filled the air of a small tavern and a thick musk hung pungent in the air. The noise of the crowd, made overly talkative with alcohol, was slightly drowned out by the low hum of classical rock music in the background and an occasional sports announcement regarding the game on one of several televisions.
Two well-toned figures sat at the bar, each bent over their respective cocktails.
"I do not understand these females, Semyaza," the shorter of the two wearily remarked, annoyance over the contemporary world of men evident in his voice.
"The Earth has changed drastically since our imprisonment, Azazel," the taller angel, Semyaza, stated in a wistful tone, gazing angrily at his glass, which currently housed a libation known to him now as a 'Long Island Iced Tea.'
Due to the fact that they believed humans would not react very well toward a winged creature, the two fallen angels were currently in their wingless forms. They both wore clothes they had meticulously 'acquired' from unsuspecting humans on their way to the bar.
Semyaza wore a pair of black, button-down, boot-cut jeans adorned with several chains. Around his torso was a tight charcoal tank, and over that was a long-sleeved, black fishnet shirt. Over his shoulders he donned a long dark coat that had buckles on the small of the back to adjust the size. The outfit was finished off with a pair of worn-out combat boots.
Azazel's tastes were slightly more simple then his angel master's. He wore sleek black dress pants, black leather dress boots with a zipper down the inner side, a pair of thin black gloves, and a dark khaki trench coat that accented the wavy golden tresses that flowed over it. What he found particularly to his liking was the formfitting black mock turtleneck that zipped down in the front from his neck to mid-chest.
On a worn bar stool, Semyaza sat in deep contemplation of their current situation. His ruby red eyes were glazed over in pensive thought. One hand gripped a tall, thin glass; the other clutched a large portion of black hair against his head that fell in straight locks to the small of his back. Layers framed his face, creating the illusion that his features were even more angular.
Azazel's midnight blue eyes fell on his companion. Not willing to admit his concern over his friend, Azazel simply flung a large portion of golden locks over his right shoulder in a gesture of annoyance.
"We are free for the time being, and not governed by the laws of Heaven," Semyaza informed his friend in a depressed tone.
Dark blue eyes searched Semyaza for any emotion or sign that might enlighten him as to where this conversation was going. It was pointless for the dark-haired angel to state facts that Azazel already knew.
"The daughters of men are very... corrupted. They were much more virtuous in earlier days," Semyaza eventually concluded, tearing his mind away from his thoughts.
Azazel gruffly replaced his concerned manner for a disapproving visage. His fallen angel master wanted to be the one doing the corrupting.
"If you boys are looking for virtue, you came to the wrong place," the bartender chimed in as she served them new drinks. She had wavy blonde hair tied back in a messy ponytail, and her face resembled a bowl of Trix cereal.
"Truly, this nectar is most satisfying," Azazel mentioned while raising his glass in an attempt to deter his companion's current train of thought.
This earned a slight smile from the taller angel "Truly," he said good-naturedly, rising to his feet. "Come, let us leave in search of even better juices."
They both rose and turned to leave as the bartender suddenly interrupted their departure.
"I can't let you boys leave without paying," the small woman said.
Semyaza turned to walk again, gripping Azazel's shoulder in the process so he would follow.
The bartender rounded the counter and darted a good yard in front of them, blocking the door with shotgun held defensively at her side.
Azazel stepped in front of Semyaza. "How much do..." He was cut off abruptly as his angel master jumped the distracted girl and pushed her against a nearby pool table.
The man placed his cheek to hers so he could whisper in her ear. "We taught you humans the art of weaponry. You should show more respect," he said in a harsh voice, his deep breathing causing moisture to form on her fragile neck.
Too terrified to even scream, she shook uncontrollably and dropped the gun as he slowly applied mounting pressure to her delicate wrist.
By now, the trio had accumulated quite a crowd, and Azazel was growing increasingly irritated at his friend's behavior.
Semyaza, savoring the submissive beauty of females, pushed himself closer to the young woman and forced her legs apart with his knee as he succeeded in straddling one of her slender legs.
Taking advantage of this perfect opportunity of male stupidity, the small girl swiftly jutted her startled leg upward, and the angel fell to his knees in pain. She grabbed a pool ball in her hand and swung it hard across Semyaza's temple with a loud crack, effectively flooring the dark-haired angel.
The petite bartender got a round of applause from the drunkards that surrounded her. The entire scene had also elicited a smile from Azazel as he now watched his partner writhe painfully in a fetal position on the floor.
"I am truly sorry for that," Azazel said. Picking up the shotgun and holding the barrel, he handed it back to the girl. Seeing as how a shotgun cannot kill an angel, he felt relatively safe. "How much are we indebted to your establishment?" he asked formally, bending down and stepping back slightly to appear less threatening.
"Um..." She stared uncertainly as she took back her gun and clutched it tight to her breast. "...Your bill came to fifty-four dollars," she said powerfully, standing upright, still suspicious of the golden-locked man.
Azazel had observed humans engaging in this process the entire evening. He reached into a storage compartment in the back of his trousers and retrieved a black leather pouch. The bartender noted that the photo ID in the wallet did not match the face of the creature who now possessed it. However, when he pulled out a piece of paper decorated in green designs that read 100 and handed it to her, she opted not ask questions.
"Will this be sufficient payment?" Azazel asked submissively while handing her a hundred dollar bill.
"This is more then enough. Let me get your change." She turned to head back to the register, but was stopped by a gentle hand on her shoulder. She gave a slight start at the touch but when she turned to meet a kind smile, she immediately flushed.
"Please consider it compensation for the actions of my friend," Azazel said with a warm smile as he quickly removed his hand so as not to frighten the poor girl further.
After a bit of hesitation, she finally found the voice that had been missing. "Thanks, doll," she said as her lips slowly formed a sweet smile. With a wink, she walked back to the bar, giving the blonde gentleman a flirtatious glance over her right shoulder as she did so.
By this time Semyaza was up and using an unfortunate coat rack to support his full weight. He grumbled and began to move toward the bar again, but was halted when he bumped into a firm body he was still too dazed to notice was there.
"We are leaving," Azazel stated in an obstinate tone with his eyes closed, and one eyebrow arched in annoyance. His arms were crossed imposingly over his chest as he stood up straight.
"Not until I teach that little bitch a lesson," Semyaza stated between grit teeth as he grabbed his throbbing temple in anger.
"I have already taken care of the matter." The blonde opened his eyes to narrow his icy midnight gaze upon his friend.
"I know what your idea of taking care of a matter is," he said as he took a step forward and stumbled into the arms of his shorter friend.
Azazel rolled his sapphire gazed toward the ceiling. "Please do not create undue trouble," he implored his angel master in an exasperated tone.
"Fine," Semyaza mumbled gruffly in reply as he allowed himself to be helped.
Azazel wrapped his arm around Semyaza's waist. The angel master held on to his companion with one arm around the back of his neck, gripping desperately to Azazel's shoulder as they left the bar.
Azazel found an adequate abandoned alleyway and sat them both down on the ground. "No one is present, you should transform so that you may heal more rapidly," Azazel told his friend softly as he removed the taller angel's trench coat.
As soon as Azazel had said the words, Semyaza grunted as he released large black-feathered wings from his strong back. The act effectively tore through the tank and fishnet shirt he wore, causing them to fall loosely down his shoulders. The clothes around the area of the wings of the fallen angel were damp with a mixture of deep crimson liquid and clear salty fluid.
Azazel clasped his hands together and calmly shut his eyes. Golden tresses fell around his angular face as he began to lightly verbalize a barrier spell. His eyes flashed open and shined a radiant icy blue as his gripped hands emitted a light from within the caverns of his palms. Feral energy washed through the air around Azazel, pushing his shimmering hair away from his face. He allowed his hands to open, and an intense light burst forth, creating a one hundred square foot energy field around the pair.
Semyaza leaned back against the cold bricks of an abandoned apartment building to cool the heat raging through his back.
Noticing his companion's discomfort, Azazel leaned in close to the raven-haired angel and placed a cool palm against his bruised temple. Semyaza was eased by the touch and relaxed as his friend began a soft healing chant. It seemed that since their fall, Azazel had retained more of his angelic qualities and abilities then did the angel master.
Azazel ended the spell abruptly as the pair heard footsteps slowly approaching.
"Sounds like your barriers do not work like they used to," Semyaza said, a little annoyed as he leaned forward while retracting his wings with effort.
"There is nothing wrong with my barrier. I suggest you be on guard," Azazel cautioned his friend sharply as he rose to his feet, followed quickly by Semyaza.
Turning to the sound of rubber hitting pavement, the pair took offensive stances.
A figure draped in shadows carefully emerged from behind a building, clear emerald eyes surveying the scene before him. The Empath was determined to take down these two alone. He had to prove to himself and to everyone else that he could face anything alone. The slim form walked to the middle of the alleyway.
Semyaza's malevolent smile complemented his piecing ruby eyes as he examined the individual.
"What do we have here?"
To Be Concluded...
Special thanks to my beta reader Chiharu-san for doing a wonderful job.
Thank you Fin-Phoenix, ola, SapphireDragon, and all my readers, your reviews are very helpful!
Next chapter: Longer, and definitely up to PG-13
Smoke filled the air of a small tavern and a thick musk hung pungent in the air. The noise of the crowd, made overly talkative with alcohol, was slightly drowned out by the low hum of classical rock music in the background and an occasional sports announcement regarding the game on one of several televisions.
Two well-toned figures sat at the bar, each bent over their respective cocktails.
"I do not understand these females, Semyaza," the shorter of the two wearily remarked, annoyance over the contemporary world of men evident in his voice.
"The Earth has changed drastically since our imprisonment, Azazel," the taller angel, Semyaza, stated in a wistful tone, gazing angrily at his glass, which currently housed a libation known to him now as a 'Long Island Iced Tea.'
Due to the fact that they believed humans would not react very well toward a winged creature, the two fallen angels were currently in their wingless forms. They both wore clothes they had meticulously 'acquired' from unsuspecting humans on their way to the bar.
Semyaza wore a pair of black, button-down, boot-cut jeans adorned with several chains. Around his torso was a tight charcoal tank, and over that was a long-sleeved, black fishnet shirt. Over his shoulders he donned a long dark coat that had buckles on the small of the back to adjust the size. The outfit was finished off with a pair of worn-out combat boots.
Azazel's tastes were slightly more simple then his angel master's. He wore sleek black dress pants, black leather dress boots with a zipper down the inner side, a pair of thin black gloves, and a dark khaki trench coat that accented the wavy golden tresses that flowed over it. What he found particularly to his liking was the formfitting black mock turtleneck that zipped down in the front from his neck to mid-chest.
On a worn bar stool, Semyaza sat in deep contemplation of their current situation. His ruby red eyes were glazed over in pensive thought. One hand gripped a tall, thin glass; the other clutched a large portion of black hair against his head that fell in straight locks to the small of his back. Layers framed his face, creating the illusion that his features were even more angular.
Azazel's midnight blue eyes fell on his companion. Not willing to admit his concern over his friend, Azazel simply flung a large portion of golden locks over his right shoulder in a gesture of annoyance.
"We are free for the time being, and not governed by the laws of Heaven," Semyaza informed his friend in a depressed tone.
Dark blue eyes searched Semyaza for any emotion or sign that might enlighten him as to where this conversation was going. It was pointless for the dark-haired angel to state facts that Azazel already knew.
"The daughters of men are very... corrupted. They were much more virtuous in earlier days," Semyaza eventually concluded, tearing his mind away from his thoughts.
Azazel gruffly replaced his concerned manner for a disapproving visage. His fallen angel master wanted to be the one doing the corrupting.
"If you boys are looking for virtue, you came to the wrong place," the bartender chimed in as she served them new drinks. She had wavy blonde hair tied back in a messy ponytail, and her face resembled a bowl of Trix cereal.
"Truly, this nectar is most satisfying," Azazel mentioned while raising his glass in an attempt to deter his companion's current train of thought.
This earned a slight smile from the taller angel "Truly," he said good-naturedly, rising to his feet. "Come, let us leave in search of even better juices."
They both rose and turned to leave as the bartender suddenly interrupted their departure.
"I can't let you boys leave without paying," the small woman said.
Semyaza turned to walk again, gripping Azazel's shoulder in the process so he would follow.
The bartender rounded the counter and darted a good yard in front of them, blocking the door with shotgun held defensively at her side.
Azazel stepped in front of Semyaza. "How much do..." He was cut off abruptly as his angel master jumped the distracted girl and pushed her against a nearby pool table.
The man placed his cheek to hers so he could whisper in her ear. "We taught you humans the art of weaponry. You should show more respect," he said in a harsh voice, his deep breathing causing moisture to form on her fragile neck.
Too terrified to even scream, she shook uncontrollably and dropped the gun as he slowly applied mounting pressure to her delicate wrist.
By now, the trio had accumulated quite a crowd, and Azazel was growing increasingly irritated at his friend's behavior.
Semyaza, savoring the submissive beauty of females, pushed himself closer to the young woman and forced her legs apart with his knee as he succeeded in straddling one of her slender legs.
Taking advantage of this perfect opportunity of male stupidity, the small girl swiftly jutted her startled leg upward, and the angel fell to his knees in pain. She grabbed a pool ball in her hand and swung it hard across Semyaza's temple with a loud crack, effectively flooring the dark-haired angel.
The petite bartender got a round of applause from the drunkards that surrounded her. The entire scene had also elicited a smile from Azazel as he now watched his partner writhe painfully in a fetal position on the floor.
"I am truly sorry for that," Azazel said. Picking up the shotgun and holding the barrel, he handed it back to the girl. Seeing as how a shotgun cannot kill an angel, he felt relatively safe. "How much are we indebted to your establishment?" he asked formally, bending down and stepping back slightly to appear less threatening.
"Um..." She stared uncertainly as she took back her gun and clutched it tight to her breast. "...Your bill came to fifty-four dollars," she said powerfully, standing upright, still suspicious of the golden-locked man.
Azazel had observed humans engaging in this process the entire evening. He reached into a storage compartment in the back of his trousers and retrieved a black leather pouch. The bartender noted that the photo ID in the wallet did not match the face of the creature who now possessed it. However, when he pulled out a piece of paper decorated in green designs that read 100 and handed it to her, she opted not ask questions.
"Will this be sufficient payment?" Azazel asked submissively while handing her a hundred dollar bill.
"This is more then enough. Let me get your change." She turned to head back to the register, but was stopped by a gentle hand on her shoulder. She gave a slight start at the touch but when she turned to meet a kind smile, she immediately flushed.
"Please consider it compensation for the actions of my friend," Azazel said with a warm smile as he quickly removed his hand so as not to frighten the poor girl further.
After a bit of hesitation, she finally found the voice that had been missing. "Thanks, doll," she said as her lips slowly formed a sweet smile. With a wink, she walked back to the bar, giving the blonde gentleman a flirtatious glance over her right shoulder as she did so.
By this time Semyaza was up and using an unfortunate coat rack to support his full weight. He grumbled and began to move toward the bar again, but was halted when he bumped into a firm body he was still too dazed to notice was there.
"We are leaving," Azazel stated in an obstinate tone with his eyes closed, and one eyebrow arched in annoyance. His arms were crossed imposingly over his chest as he stood up straight.
"Not until I teach that little bitch a lesson," Semyaza stated between grit teeth as he grabbed his throbbing temple in anger.
"I have already taken care of the matter." The blonde opened his eyes to narrow his icy midnight gaze upon his friend.
"I know what your idea of taking care of a matter is," he said as he took a step forward and stumbled into the arms of his shorter friend.
Azazel rolled his sapphire gazed toward the ceiling. "Please do not create undue trouble," he implored his angel master in an exasperated tone.
"Fine," Semyaza mumbled gruffly in reply as he allowed himself to be helped.
Azazel wrapped his arm around Semyaza's waist. The angel master held on to his companion with one arm around the back of his neck, gripping desperately to Azazel's shoulder as they left the bar.
Azazel found an adequate abandoned alleyway and sat them both down on the ground. "No one is present, you should transform so that you may heal more rapidly," Azazel told his friend softly as he removed the taller angel's trench coat.
As soon as Azazel had said the words, Semyaza grunted as he released large black-feathered wings from his strong back. The act effectively tore through the tank and fishnet shirt he wore, causing them to fall loosely down his shoulders. The clothes around the area of the wings of the fallen angel were damp with a mixture of deep crimson liquid and clear salty fluid.
Azazel clasped his hands together and calmly shut his eyes. Golden tresses fell around his angular face as he began to lightly verbalize a barrier spell. His eyes flashed open and shined a radiant icy blue as his gripped hands emitted a light from within the caverns of his palms. Feral energy washed through the air around Azazel, pushing his shimmering hair away from his face. He allowed his hands to open, and an intense light burst forth, creating a one hundred square foot energy field around the pair.
Semyaza leaned back against the cold bricks of an abandoned apartment building to cool the heat raging through his back.
Noticing his companion's discomfort, Azazel leaned in close to the raven-haired angel and placed a cool palm against his bruised temple. Semyaza was eased by the touch and relaxed as his friend began a soft healing chant. It seemed that since their fall, Azazel had retained more of his angelic qualities and abilities then did the angel master.
Azazel ended the spell abruptly as the pair heard footsteps slowly approaching.
"Sounds like your barriers do not work like they used to," Semyaza said, a little annoyed as he leaned forward while retracting his wings with effort.
"There is nothing wrong with my barrier. I suggest you be on guard," Azazel cautioned his friend sharply as he rose to his feet, followed quickly by Semyaza.
Turning to the sound of rubber hitting pavement, the pair took offensive stances.
A figure draped in shadows carefully emerged from behind a building, clear emerald eyes surveying the scene before him. The Empath was determined to take down these two alone. He had to prove to himself and to everyone else that he could face anything alone. The slim form walked to the middle of the alleyway.
Semyaza's malevolent smile complemented his piecing ruby eyes as he examined the individual.
"What do we have here?"
To Be Concluded...
Special thanks to my beta reader Chiharu-san for doing a wonderful job.
Thank you Fin-Phoenix, ola, SapphireDragon, and all my readers, your reviews are very helpful!
Next chapter: Longer, and definitely up to PG-13