Angel Hunt Throughout the Years...

+ Angel Hunt +
Modern Day | Just One of Those Days | Part 01

Bright lights pulse in tune to a steady beat, multi colored flashes flickering over a sea of moving bodies. The noise floods beyond the club, spilling out into the cold nighttime air for blocks on end; a kind of invitation to all those who pass to come inside and play in a wonderland of strobes and hard beats guaranteed to rock each individual down to their very core.

Despite the noise, the bodies, and the music that surrounds him, the tall Angel resides in a thought filled world set far apart while he sits at the spanning bar at the far end of the warehouse -a rather foul look painting what features show through the layered snow colored strands that cover one side of his scar riddled face. Pristine white leather drapes perfect, near flawless alabaster skin, the material’s hues shifting every few moments and tinted by the club’s lights while he nurses a glass of some liquid he hadn’t paid much attention to when he’d ordered.

He has no idea why the fuck he came into this place, none at all. It’s filled to the brim with humans and given how much he hates the smell of them, he’s still at a loss as to why he’d decided to walk in. Most likely it had something to do with the ability to blend in since everyone in this place is either high off their fucking rocker, or as drunk as he’s wanted to be from the start to notice exactly how much he doesn’t fit in.

Whatever his reasons were, he’s been questioning the validity of his own mind for the last hour he’s been trying to drown himself in drink and he swears if one more smelly, sweaty, monkey bumps into him, he’s going to end up blowing his attempt at laying low and heads are going to fucking roll.

It’s been months since he finally called it quits with a creature he’d spent the last two years with. Months since he’d left the White City and all those who resided within. He hasn’t missed it at all really. Life within those confines had started to become as tedious and inane as life within the mansion had once been. Kess had changed too much for him during the time. It’d all been good between them before, until that is, the day the water dragon decided to take some job as a pencil neck bureaucrat in whatever government ruled the city, and as they claimed; the world as well. It was a load of condescending bullshit as far as he was concerned, not much different at the core than the High Council that governs his own people, save the fact that instead of the nobility of the Angels –it was a veritable freak show calling themselves gods.

The main problem was that once Kess did that, he also decided to do a one eighty on him as far as his personality went. Everything that had attracted him to the other man to begin with started fading, the conversations between them dwindled along with the time they’d spend simply enjoying each other's presence as they once had. He found his mind wandering more often than not and the times he spent out of their shared home became more frequent while his desire to return continuously waned. When he did go back, there was always some fight -always some conflict over the stupidest things and it started to prick at his patience and wear on him beyond belief. He’d gotten tired of the bickering and the cold shoulders, the slamming doors and passive aggressive speeches in truth, tired of the fact that the person he’d once fallen for changed into someone he constantly wanted to punch. It hadn’t taken long for him to realize that somewhere along the way, the Kess he once knew seemed to have lost all the life and fire inside of him and pretty much everything that had drawn Fanuel to him in the first place was gone. Somewhere along the lines, the water dragon had become someone else, someone domesticated and complacent.

Like one of these ridiculous human women.

Snorting softly, the white haired Angel lifts his glass to his lips and downs the contents in one gulp before barking at the bartender to give him another.

After a while, he also began to notice that with the fire lost in Kess, his feelings for the dragon had waned along with it and they’d drifted father apart for than either of them seemed willing to admit. Before long, the only thing keeping him there, now that he thinks on it, was the constant threat of his Maker outside the City’s walls. But even that ended up so thin a thread that he couldn’t cling onto it any longer and the last time they’d gotten into a fight over some petty bullshit he can no longer even recall, it’d just become too much. He needed to leave; it was time to admit defeat as not even the worry of what lay beyond the walls turned out to be enough to hold him.

He has no intentions of ever returning either, something he’s sure will prove to be a relief for them both. Actually, he’s pretty sure him leaving was a relief for most save the few ‘friends’ he’d made while on the inside. The residents of that fucking city for the most part had all the high and mighty holier than thou bullshit of the Heavens stuck up their asses, only without the military dictatorship overkill of the Enforcer Factions breathing down his neck.

If he wanted that sort of life again, all he had to do was walk his ass back into Central and tell his own people to have a go, he didn’t need to live and breathe it every second of every fucking day he was with someone he claimed to love.

He's been wandering since then, just hopping from one place to the other and doing what he can to stay off the radar of both his own people and that of his Maker. He’s been lucky there; real lucky since the last thing he really wants is to end up face to face with that white haired creepy little fuck that made him what he is or somehow find his ass back in the hands of another Enforcer Faction because he knows either way, he won't survive.

During the time he's been wondering, he's been thinking about his brother more often than not, and he’s gone back a few times with the hope that he’ll be able to catch a glimpse of the one person in this world he still loves walking the grounds without that insufferable Demon hanging around. Unfortunately he hasn’t managed it yet because that fucktard his brother is sleeping with is rarely ever out, but at some point he plans to remedy that because there’s no way in hell he’ll allow Fuan to be taken from him forever. Even if it means that at some point he'll have to swallow his pride and see if he can talk one of those monkeys working in that place to call that cheating, Lower lapdog filth off long enough for a visit.

Fanuel frowns as his thoughts are suddenly interrupted and he realizes the bartender is standing before him with an expectant look on his face while his glass remains as it was; completely empty.

“Fill it.” He repeats.

“Six dollars. Like with the others, you pay first.” The man retorts. “This isn’t charity, it’s a business.”

Tapered fingers clench around the crystal, the Angel about two seconds from reaching out to rip the man’s face off for the look he’s being given alone and it takes a lot for him to quell the urge to actually do it. Fucking humans and their fucking money, another god damned reason he wishes he was still back home. These monkeys are almost as bad as the filth he spent a few hundred years killing and if he wasn’t in the mood to get as wasted as he possibly can right now, he’d be wiping this asshole’s mouth off his skin with the sharp end of his glaive.

Swearing under his breath, he reaches into his pocket to pull what little cash he still has on him out and before he manages to get it free, a slight woman plops herself down next to him and throws a thick wad towards the man instead.

“Next few rounds are on me, sugar” She smiles widely “And I’ll take two of whatever he’s having as well.”

The bartender nods, scooping up the money before refilling the Angel’s glass, two clean ones set to his side a moment later. Fanuel narrows his seeing eye before shifting his gaze over with all intentions of telling the female monkey to piss the hell off only to find himself met with an un-natural pair of deep red eyes and a set of ruby colored lips curved into the slyest of smiles meant solely for him. Sitting too close for comfort is a rather scantily dressed woman with a lightly familiar scent he can’t quite place, her low cut tighter-than-skin patent leather dress pushing a pair of obnoxiously large breasts nearly up to her chin. Long lacquered nails tip delicate, slender fingers as she reaches out to wrap them around one of the two glasses to her front and before the Angel can even blink, the petite, black haired woman downs both drinks in a few quick gulps.

Signaling to the bartender for a refill, she slides deep red eyes back over to meet his single white while licking the excess liquid off her lips in the most seductive of ways. “I think you’ve just made my night, Doll” She chimes just loud enough for her voice to carry while seemingly oblivious to the growing cloud forming up above the white haired Angel's head. “Humans are so boring aren’t they? So you can imagine how happy I was to find someone like you just standing out all by yourself over here in the corner, hm? I have a feeling my night just got a million shades brighter.”

Oh, what… the actual fuck?

[B A C K] + [N E X T]

The Angel Hunt story has been written by Nezumi LacSeul and is (C) 2004 - Present. Please don't use, steal or borrow any part of it or take in whole.