Tonight, he was alone. He’d left his phone… somewhere. There was no young irritation. No sadistic vampire. But, he was enjoying this time. And the rooftops were his playground. Sure, there were points when Gabriel felt that it was a little cliché, but that was alright. After all, not too many people could actually hop along the tops of skyscrapers. No matter how much they wanted to. Hah, he could be more than competitive in that sport… What was it called again? Oh, what did it matter? It wasn’t as if anyone would really let him play any sports competitively. Of course he would cheat. It really wasn’t below him to do things like that.

Feathers rustled quietly, shoes skidded against gravel, and then he took off running again. With an easy leap, he landed on the edge, muscles coiled to jump again. The nearest building was taller, so the massive black wings opened, shivering slightly in the strong gales. Catching one, his feet pushed off and the wings pumped hard. The corona of blazing blue surrounded him, flashing like uncontrollable fire. At that instant, he remembered something very important.

He was afraid of heights.

Somewhere between the jump and the landing, Gabriel decided that being that high just wasn’t a good idea. So he turned back. But the 180 never happened. He had misjudged the air currents and instead a good gust sent him tumbling backwards. A sense of déjà vu struck as he spiraled toward the ground, watching it come up at him. Hadn’t this happened before? And wasn’t that the reason why he didn’t fly much anymore? Only last time there had been someone with him. Watching him and mocking his crash landing.

The dazzling blue light flared a few more times as he tried to right himself. But the spaces between skyscrapers were windy and every time he attempted, it seemed to just make the dizzying spin worse. In just those few seconds, he thought he might throw up. But just as suddenly as it had started, it was over.

“Ffff…. Ow…”

He’d hit the ground with a muffled ‘thud’, landing on his back. His head hit the ground almost at the same instant, stars blooming in his vision. The pain came later, when he’d realized that the most he could hope was that he hadn’t broken a wing, that it was only dislocated. And that maybe the blood pooling under his head was only a puddle. That’d be nice. Maybe no one had seen the fall. Maybe anyone that had would just go about their business, like good people should. ‘Angels do not fall from the sky into dirty alleys,’ they should say to themselves.

"Angels should not fall out of the sky into dirty alleys." Joscelin said to the now prone figure that had fallen from out of nowhere. "Perhaps you need lessons.  The trail and error method does not work for you too much."

Joscelin was in a human form this night. It was a necessity when she came into town. This night she choose ebony colored skin. To better show off her yellow cat eyes. She was a little on the plank side of the curve system, while still being a tad muscular. The hair on her head was shaved close to her scalp. The clothes she was wearing at the time were a bit on the grunge side.

She stepped around the growing puddle of blood circling his head, and inhaled deeply.

"Mmm. You smell like you would be a nice treat." The sentence rolled of her tongue with a small purr of pleasure. The halfling then crouched down close to his face. "I think i should find out." She crouched a little farther down careful to keep everything but her feet from touching the alley ground. Her rough cat like tongue came out and slowly licked the blood trailing down his head to the opening of the wound.

"Sadly you are lacking in Iron. Now what am i to do with a fallen angel hmm...? Do you ever think before you jump like that? About the people that would be stuck caring for you after you do this stupid shit?" She was still sitting down by him wondering how she was going to get him somewhere safe till his wing and concussion were better.

Gabriel did not appreciate being mocked. Lessons? Really? He had stretched his wings even before time had come into existence! It was really a cruel joke that he was afraid of heights. The dull grey eyes watched the woman with careful suspicion and mild distaste. The look flashed to something bordering on anger and resigned acceptance at the feel of the rough tongue. It deeply irritated him. Enough to make him shudder, gritting his teeth. What was it with people wanting to taste him? He didn't think he could really taste all that great. Blood itself had never held much appeal to him though. Maybe that was the difference.

It wasn't as if he couldn't move. However, it didn't seem worth the trouble until after the world had stopped spinning. If he couldn't stand up and walk a fairly straight line, why even try, right? At least, that was what he figured until she said two particular words.

"I am not one of those fallen scum!"

He sat up slowly, shaking his head and only succeeding in making himself dizzy. Still, he lifted himself to his feet, flexed the undamaged wing and folded it. Both slowly vanished, leaving only a dazed and bleeding young blonde in a pair of tattered and much too large jeans and sneakers that had seen better days.

"Don't call me that. Ever again. And I can take care of myself."

Hmmm.... But I....  I really don't think you are as innocent as you claim.... How else would ya be fallin' offa buildin's?

Nate sneered, but his expression flashed to wild, his shimmering gray eyes, touches of blue and green. His pupils started to look like that of a goat. Ryan walked along beside him solemnly. They looked like friends, sometimes lovers, but Ryan was prisoner and Nate was friend ... more like menace in disguise. Nate really had the handle on the situation.
Ryan didn't know he was an angel. They'd had him way too loaded and drugged up.
With Nate pretending to 'rescue' and 'save' him here and there, he thought the guy was his help, though Ryan had a temper. He was running out of steam, though.
Ryan's dark eyes looked to Gabe, and something triggered in his mind and he stared at him for a long while. Nate turned his head, whole body twisting like a snake and popped Ryan in the head and laughed.

Watcha lookin' at? That wanna be?... All full of his self-righteousness, riding his damned high horse, how come HE gets to be that arrogant,no problem?!!

Ryan was so weak and drained of life he just stood there, his eyes wondering to Joscelin. God, she gave him the creeps. Ryan's whole body tensed and he shivered.
Ryan didn't know it, but he had thought long about that fall. He took a few steps away, biting his lip and staring off. Trying to muster the strength, to get away. He was a member of this army against his will, if he ran away they'd hunt him. It was starting to seem worth the risk. Why was he so goddamned valuable?
He puzzled over escape day in and day out as he regretfully laid bodies to rest.

Nate was just a manifestation of fear and paranoia gone wild. He grinned, approaching the woman. He was taller than Ryan, definitely seemed more 'dense' and as Ryan seemed to die more and more, it was making Nate more sturdy, more real.

Ryan thought to himself, Innocent majick is stronger than Evil... Innnocent Majik Is stronger than Evil....

Nate watched the transformation take place, his eyes looking at Gabriel's wings, then switching quickly to his face as he stood there, bleeding. He stuck his head closer and he too inhaled, his eyes dazzling madly. He felt like he was salivating.

Sure doesn't look like it .... An angel in the dope smoke.. Wanna get high Gabey?


Nate growled.

"Nate!!!" Ryan sighed. He just didn't have the energy anymore. He didn't even see that Nate was draining all his vitality. Nate was ignoring him, as he would, and laughed ... Maniacally.

Nate strode to where Joscelin stood. He grinned at her, his lips forming a smirk, then he lunged for Gabriel.
The handsome, tweaked out looking man, had bursted into a demon, talons and all, his jaws going for his throat, raking wolverine like nails across his chest and face.
One of the uglier, stranger looking ones. Flesh oceanic gray blue, eyes glaring black abyss. Teeth an ivory nightmare.

Nate had found Gabriel's disposition so annoying.

Ryan gasped ... He was so weak. He had never heard Nate make such horrible growling, screaming sounds like that.
He'd had 'visions' of Nate as a demon, but it had never seemed this real before.
His dark eyes were wide. He didn't even feel like he could run. He was just frozen, stuck ... So overwhelmed, and unfortunately, a patient of the underground.
He had no idea he was 'Cupid.' And his friend and lover was really his warden. Until that one horrifying moment where it all cataclysmically made sense.

"NATE!!! FUCKIN' LEAVE HIM ALONE !!! . . . Don't even know that guy. . ." Ryan yelled, feeling so terrible, yet so good after he'd done it. His chest heaved a great sigh, as if he were surprised at himself. Even though the last part hadn't really made it to a 'yell' volume. He felt like something had lfited off of him . . . He remembered the knife hidden on his leg, just in case. Woaah.. He felt so light-headed, leaned against the wall and lost consciousness as he slid down, his hand grabbing his leg where the knife was as his eyes shut.

“None’a your damn business.”

He couldn’t help but snarl at the man. Not only had Nate surprised him, but he did not like the… aura that surrounded him. It had been a good long time since he’d been near anything like it. And it put the already antsy archangel further on guard. Because it screamed ‘demon’ at him.
For a moment, he stopped and took a look at the man’s companion, almost caring enough to be concerned with the way he looked.

But that attention was easily stolen when he was called a ‘wanna be’, self-righteous, and arrogant. Now, Gabriel never claimed to be any more than a childish, arrogant, prick. But that didn’t mean that other people, especially demons, could call him out on that.

Though he stood, taking the slightly demeaning behavior of being sniffed again, his hand seemed to clench around something. Even if he weren’t put off by Nate’s mere existence, he thought that it would be easy to come around to despising the man. The normally light grey eyes swirled with odd oranges, his annoyance becoming apparent.

“Fuck you.”

Eyes flickered to the other male, still narrowed with suspicion, this time laced with curiosity. His naturally curious ways had gotten him into trouble before. He should have probably been slightly wary about letting it happen again. But the hell with it. If he died, then he died. Hell wasn’t all that bad, which was good. Since he was pretty much assured to end up there. If he had a soul. Did he?

For a quick moment his hand relaxed, almost dropping to his side. Whatever that woman was, he figured it was better off her dealing with the man than him.

Gabriel was still a warrior, somewhere under the street kid exterior. Almost in an instant his scythe was in hand. That deadly seven foot implement with its wickedly sharp, four foot long iron blade had cut through more than its fair share of people that had annoyed him. And even more he had simply been told to kill.

Slowed as his reactions were, he couldn’t take a swipe, like he would have preferred. The sturdy ash shaft was instead shoved between the snapping jaws as he fell backward, unbalanced by the sudden weight. Not that it was hard, especially considering the fact that the world was still swimming. And again, his head hit the cement with an all too familiar wet smack.

This should not be his job! This was supposed to be Uriel’s job. So why the fuck wasn’t he here to take care of this?!

Watching from the back of that alleyway, Pyro smiled, his own fangs glinting in the light. He knew some of the faces here. Nate was having his own fun with the 'not' fallen angel. His eyes flickered to the one that was fainting or dying, Pyro couldn't tell from so far away. He skipped forward and made his presence known. My, my,  Nate, my man. What have you gotten yourself into now? Don't you dare die, you have my candies, broha. The crazed vamp giggled and went to stand over the unconscious man. He was a pretty one and Pyro bent to caress his face. Hmm.. Nice thoughts, nice thoughts.

The cloud of multicolored butterflies would have shocked anyone, but Pyro couldn't wait to see the looks on everyone's face. But he wasn't done. Oh no, never so easily done. He made them swarm around the two fighting figures and giggled, insanely. He skipped over to Joscelin and hugged her, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek. Hello, lovebug! He said cheerily and perched himself in the middle of the alleyway to continue his onslaught of butterfly cuteness.

Popping a few brightly colored candies into his mouth, he cuddled up next to the 'sleeping' man, having scooted his skinny ass over to him.[/color]

This is gonna be good, mate.

Nate, with his movement-capturing vision, stared into the orange rapids in the other males eyes, and he grinned.
Yea, feed my fire, keep gettin' angry. Instead, there was a very awkward .... scythe placed between his jaws, which emitted a fierce shriek, which was penetrating enough that Ryan began to stir. Nate didn't give a shit that this was a public alleyway.
He fucking hated this place, this world. But he was trapped here, and he was insane.
He picked up the Scythe, even though he knew he was bleeding, and growled, looking around them at the company, deciding not to use it on any one of them.

I'll trade you, this for that. That ones almost dead, anyway...so take it.

He nodded to Pyro, handing him the scythe, watching a swarm of butterflies go past. Nate seemed to enjoy it, though appeared used to such visions, he was grinnin'.

Gimme somethin' good in return, sweet thang, when I see ya again.
He smirked. Then he shifted to halfer state, between demon and human. He lifted Gabriel up in strong arms, his mouth cringing up as Gabe's flesh touched his. Nate's eyes became huge as he watched the assorted colours. He chuckled, a loud hissing, snorting sound as he shook his head, then bursted through the swarm of them, with the angel hanging limply from his arms as he carried him back to the underground, where Gabriel would be placed in a cell, stained with blood, his injuries unattended to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nate's screaming and shrieking actually woke and stirred Ryan. He opened his eyes, was in slow motion for a split second, before he screamed and slid away from Pyro, staring wide-eyed at the man with the scythe, with blood on it. He stood up, used to these situations, pressing all of his energy forward for the fight or flight.

Where's Nate. and the angel, what the fuck? Who are you?

"Hey... that's mine. Give it..."

His voice sounded strangely loud to his ears, but the words were barely above a whisper. And why was everyone yelling? Gabriel's fingers curled around empty air, wanting his weapon back. He was too stubborn to just give up. Even when he probably should. However, the colorful little insects made him pause and close his eyes. It was only the rapidly changing colors of his eyes, he told himself, blocking them out with the darkness. Anyway, he hoped that was all. Either that or someone, and he had a good idea who it might have been, had drugged him.

But it was obviously a bad idea to be shutting his eyes with a head injury. Within seconds, his awareness of the world faded. He knew someone had picked him up, but didn't know who it was. To this point, there had only been two people that had ever picked him up and carried him, and for some reason assuming that it was one of them, he unknowingly buried his head against the chest, feeling quite secure.

Waking up somewhere that was not an alley, not home, and certainly not his house, he was confused. Cautiously, he touched the back of his head, wincing at the sudden shooting pain. Blood that he hoped wasn't all his flaked from his chest. The broken wing moved, but it made him whimper like a beaten dog. Reaching up, he found the old collar still around his neck and let out a breath of relief. After taking stock of his injuries, he inspected the place.

Not again.

Gabriel screamed in both agony and fury. His feet kicked against the walls. Both wings pumped hard, knocking against floor, ceiling, and walls. The angel was throwing a tantrum, like a small child.

"Give it! Giveitgiveitgiveitgiveitgivei t!"

Pyro shrieked in his own surprised when the lovely man next to him sprang to his feet. Holy shit, dude! Nearly gave me a heart attack!! Pyro thought about that statement for a minute and laughed. He had forgotten his heart no longer worked. The scythe in his hands shifted uncomfortably in his grip. Believe it or not, but Pyro didn't like sharp objects. He let it slid from his hand to rest on the floor, looking to the slightly hysteriacl man.

Hey! Simmer down, broha! It's okay. Nate's taking him somewhere.. The vampire let his speech fade out, lookin' the guy over again he arched a brow. How'd he get caught up with Nate of Mad Fate? Pyro wondered. He let the thought slip away as a wave of craziness crashed over him. Looking to the sky, Pyro realized Nate destroyed a majority of his butterflies. What an asshole, brah... The vampire mumbled. He imagination was just itchin' to cause a little havoc, but he forced his brain to focus on the man standing in front of him.

[OOC Moderation: Back off on the unreadable colors, please. This is a writing site, not group knitting.]

It was only maybe second later when Gabriel stopped. He'd come to the conclusion that no one was giving him his weapon back. Or pay attention to him. And he'd pretty much exhausted all of his energy. So now his head hurt again and he could feel the bone that had been shoved through the skin grating against the other broken end.

Like a predator in wait, or maybe an indignant little boy, he spread himself out on his stomach, chin resting on his forearms, and wings laid out to either side. The now all black eyes shone fiercely. Whoever made the mistake of coming near him was going to be ripped into pieces so small that no one would even know who they were. One hand shifted, holding tightly to the leather collar around his neck.

This was not fun. Gabriel really hadn't expected this to ever happen again. The most that could be said was that, this time at least, there were no chains. If anyone tried chains, he'd bring the entire place down. Right now, he was just waiting. Wanting to know who the fuck had thought this was a good idea. But if it wasn't going well for him, maybe he would dump the place into the water. Fire. Wherever seemed the closest.

Pyro shook his head slowly and a dazed smile crossed his face as he watched the almost-dead man spring to life. As his mane of purple and magenta whipped around his hair the beads in them jiggled, casing him to giggle a little. What the Hell have I gotten my crazy ass into? He thought as he got to his feet.

The vamp cringed away as the scythe was lifted from the ground and slung around, again, sharp objects and Pyro do not mix. “Evil? Of course I know that! But, he’s my drug dealer and kinda the only guy that gets me, ya know?” Pyro knew those were poor excuses but it’s not like he would hang out Nate on a regular bases.

He’d get his drugs and haul ass.

Diamond eyes followed the butterfly as it landed and took flight again. He was glad at least some of them survived. That particular red one was gorgeous. He looked into the man’s eyes and smiled back, normally, the drugs wearing off.

Once the scythe was set down, Pyro stepped closer. “Hehehe.. I’m a little hungry myself, but first off, I’m Pyro,” the vampire said. He would have extended his hand, but he didn’t know how he would be received. Being a vampire seemed to freak people out, but other species seemed to just get pissed right off the back.

He arched a neatly plucked brow and asked: “And you are, sir?”

Not going back? Back where? Hmmmm...? Pyro’s thoughts were starting to become more and more coherent. He was never one to ask about Nate’s strange and dark ways. He knew Nate was something else and tonight proofed him right on that notion. A demon of some sort. Thinly-muscled shoulders were shrugged and he sighed, stretching his long limbs.

“Yeah, I’ll come along if you’ll have my company,” Pyro answered and wrapped his arms around himself. He made a face, “I don’t like sharp things...” Was all he said on that topic, which was ironic, having fangs and all.

“Where’re we goin’, doll?” He asked.

They had left Gabriel in his cell for a few hours alone. The night grew later. Nate went to the cell and watched Gabe, quietly, almost sort of scientifically watching him .. though he was hyped up on something. His eyes were already weird, but they were shining like daggers.
He bounced on his toes a little, fishing around in his pocket, while keeping tuned in to what was going on around him.
The elders stood around like pillars of differentiating height, watching Nate with a curiosity.
It was almost as though he were an experiment as well as Ryan had been.

"We can't believe you left him go, Nathan..."

I was tired of baby sitting. If you want him so much, go send someone else after 'im. I want to deal with 'ittle Gabey ...

An odd silence filled the room. Nate seemed to be growing stronger and stronger.
He touched his chin, his jaw, pulling a key from his pocket and he unlocked Gabriel's cell.
He roughed him up -- morphing into the scaly reptile he'd been before.

How are you liking your stay at our underground prison? You're missing your branding. Your little angel friend I just left out in the world on his own has one too. Thing has been sooo stoned he doesn't even know what he is anymore.

Nate chuckled darkly, but nonchalantly. He could care less. Ryan had been a plaything. Many other strange looking beings were pacing the halls, strange mutations, demonic creatures, and the ancient vampires. Nate's eyes were like swirling orbs, the speed pumping through him and his heart pounding. Sweat had beaded on his face lightly, his brow and cheeks covered with it.  He stepped back, his face squinching up as the power surged through his form. It looked painful but he was so uppity there wasn't much else he could do with all the contained and unreleased rage. He grabbed Gabe by his head and slammed him into the prison bars, growling. He latched onto a wing, using it as leverage to pull Gabriel into him. His eyes noticed the broken one and he smelled the blood. His stomach gurgled and he groaned a little bit.

More of the entities came in and they began to escort Gabriel to another section of the place.
They sat him down. One vampire stood by the fire, holding an iron rod within the flames.
A woman took it, and she strutted to Gabriel's side in high red boots. Many of the beings seemed much too quiet, too detached.
It was true that Gabriel was just another experiment, they were quiet with ideas swimming through their minds.

Ready, darlin' ?

She asked. She was adorned in red and yellow, her flesh dark. Her eyes were like a cat's, her hair springy and tawny in colour. At the last moment, she handed it to Nate, who jammed the hot iron into Gabriel's flesh ... the bicep of his right arm. The seering hot red symbol the mark of the entire underground clan.

Is he to your liking, Marius?

Nate sneered, his thick throat and broad shoulders adjusting in a manner that read he could give a shit less. He was tired of the way he was being treated, so that was why he kept evoking more and more power. His drug problem was soaring sky high, though. His hands cracked and his talons lengthened. He gazed at Gabriel with hunger in his eyes. Nate was a time bomb, and he didn't care.

I would say a better investment than Ryan -- the damage has already been done with him. It will take long for him to recover.

The vampire of madness's lips curled up with pleasure of his own deeds, his pupils retracting to tiny, minuscule diamonds.

( ooc: feel free to bring in your others unless he wants to hang out with them for longer, xD )



[OOC Moderation: Ok, the colors are bad enough. But color and centering? Stop it. This isn't a chat room. Last warning.]

Get 'food.'

He responded, settling down with the scythe, not paying much mind at all to it as he walked, using it as a sort of walking stick.
Ryan was much more worn down than what it seemed. The anger was bubbling and brewing inside of him. He even seemed to twitch a little when Pyro said 'doll.' For a split second, the very passionate yet rather drained vampire felt like screaming I AM NOT A DOLL!!!!! .... But that's not a good way to make friends and he really wanted one, so he kept his lips shut. But he couldn't help anything else that followed.

He growled under his breath, screaming fierce into the night with fury, but nothing answered back and all he was probably doing was scaring his friend. Yes, that's what I was treated like, was a doll ... He thought, angrily. His brows furrowed and his own accumulated darkness desired to tear the whole underground hell hole to shreds.

Prisoner of war, you can't expect me to be 'right.'

He spat his words, then looked helplessly at Pyro, so many emotions spinning in him.
What comfort would one of Nate's drugs friends be? He seemed different than Nate, though, like he could help.
Part of him wanted to grab onto him and be held, the other screaming and squirming to run away.
Food, priority. He handed the scythe to Pyro.

Hang onto this, I'll be back. Food.

He reminded him, his eyes snapping back and forth animatedly. For a half dead guy, he had a pretty decent sense of humour.

I'm Ryan.

He thought - remembering the rogue he used to be that got him into this mess. He felt so dulled and slowed and almost permanently sleepy from all the drugs. It was from being around the demons. He shook his head, forcing vitality into his frame, imagining taking in new life with each stride. He attacked the first person he saw, a young willowy blonde. He refused to look into her eyes, he could not. He still had feelings, and for so long being a prisoner he had desire to be close to someone. But the hunger drove him to nearly drink her dry, but he reminded himself to take small breaks between feeding so he wouldn't be overloaded and his body could adjust. He was tired of feeling weird. He wanted to feel ... "normal" ... and "okay." Not trippin, not freakin' out, not angry, just ... alright. That would be the best. He kept trying to tell himself he was.

Her let her body slip slowly from his fingers, still refusing to look into her face, but when he did, her eyes seemed so peaceful.
She wouldn't remember the encounter. He removed his hands from her form and slipped away softly, before she could recover. He stopped for a moment and rested to gather his bearings, blinking several times as the new blood coursed through him. She must be healthy and care about herself, He thought, thinking it was good blood. He leapt to his feet, laughing as he sort of felt like himself again. He dashed the rest of the way back to Pyro. Enough of wasting energy, though. He was still very child-like in the mind. That's why this had happened.

When I was a street kid, before all of this, my name was Nothing. Pretty stupid, huh. I guess I just didn't know any better.

He said, his rough voice like that of an alley cat. A bit low, at times discordant, but overall, really .. warm. How he could still be kind after all the torture was a mystery.
A lot of it he remembered, but it got lost in the shuffel. Too many times he had lost consciousness. He stretched, then looked back to Pyro.

I don't even know where we are, I'm just ready to start my life over.

He looked at Pyro a bit sadly. Once more, he felt like that kid alone in the world. He had just lost time.

He politely grabbed the scythe back, though a little absently, running a hand through his long dark hair, wondering what had become of Gabriel. He bit on his lip nervously, feeling really bad, and almost responsible. I gotta help him, He looked at the scythe while thinking over what was happening to the man. He couldn't deny he felt glad about the switch. I wouldn't have lasted much longer, He knew his spirit would've given up. It felt like it kept trying to, but Ryan kept coaxing it to relax, that all was just fine. He was pretty sure he at least had one friend. One friend was just enough.

His angel friend? That must have been a mention of the man that had been with this demon. The one that looked ready to die. Hah, if only Nate knew how little he cared about the fate of any being but himself. In response to the statements, he only laughed, near hysterically. Even through the pain and the clear anger, that was all.
He played dead weight, staring around him in a listless kind of amusement, like none of this mattered, caught up in the bouts of giggles that occasionally dropped from his lips. Through the laughter, only one word escaped.

“Nate... Nate Nate...”
It came in random bursts, full of a mocking kind of knowledge.

Help was not offered, but neither was any resistance. There was just that single point of interest dancing in his vision; the tongues of flame that licked around the iron.

“Ready, love.”

His voice still flirted with that vague line of hysteria. Crackling, unsure chuckling forced its way out of his mouth, to tinkle into the calculating quiet as if it were the laughter of someone who’d lost their mind long ago. The careful neutrality of the steel grey eyes showed intelligence and sanity, and watched the woman with an intently challenging gaze. He didn’t even have a chance to fully understand when the instrument changed hands and he felt the skin on his arm being seared away.

It wasn’t a scream that came from this, but a strangled cry of surprise, indignation, and relief. Relief at the moments distraction from the by now, much too constant pain of his broken limb. Eagerly, he raised his face to those that circled him. “Yeah. Do you like me?” The laughter started again, his gaze turning on the demon who’d brought him here. Staring exultantly at Nathan.

“Eat me Nate. Go ahead. Do it.”

Amusement had turned the grey to a sparkling golden. How could he be enjoying this situation? He’d only decided to make the best of it, taunting his captor carelessly.

“Fuckin’ eat me demon!”

Both wings flared, feathers standing on end, the violent blue aura cracking like lightning around him. It made him seem so much bigger, so much more dangerous. Every muscle was tense, coiled, poised to take action. The chair they’d placed him in clattered to the floor, the angel pushing across the room, in a kind of snarling, spitting, hissing anger.

He would run and he would keep running, until he was caught and dragged back; even if it was within these walls, or until he found his weapon once again. Either way, he was going back eventually. Some deep aggression had been woken inside him, and he felt the need to see them all dead. No one would help him with this goal. Hell, he could be absolutely certain that if anyone even cared to keep tabs on him, they wouldn't help him with anything. But wasn't that what he'd spent decades trying to do?