Angel Hunt Throughout the Years...

+ Angel Hunt +
P A R T 01
A New Game

A glint of iridescence snakes across solid cobalt eyes when a nearby cloud momentarily blots out the overhead sun. The small, child-like figure sits perched high up on the mountain face, the chill of the gusting wind unfelt as it whips his scruffy ebony hair about, the strands held away from his pale features in two, haphazard kept ponytails and long side swept fringe pushed by the updraft from a face that carries only the guise of innocence, his small fingers grasping onto the jagged rock beneath his body while slender legs kick idly at the air and a stupidly pleased grin spans his mouth.

From his hairline halfway down to the bridge of his nose is a deep crimson marking, a simple elongated diamond that faces vertically and is broken in the center, the middle point just beneath his brows marked by a large circular dot. Heís dressed in the facsimile of clothing he once saw during his travels, even though he can no longer remember when or where Ėhis skinny legs covered by opposite toned stockings, one black and one white, both loose at his ankles and stretched just over his knees, the shoes that adorn his feet are black with small silver buckles and centered just over his toes is the white stitched lines of an animalís face and whiskers that resemble some kind of cartoonish feline. The shirt he wears is large enough to fit two of his current form, colored white with an uneven black crossing of decorative fabrics that spans both a vertical and horizontal line positioned center to his chest, a huge bunched up collar that partially covers his lower chin and sleeves that are roomy and frayed at the ends, the tendril fibers dancing in the wind. The hem of his oversized shirt is both bunched at his waist and tucked beneath his rear, the excess of fabric nearly hiding the short pleated black skirt that sits low on his narrow hips and covering a black pair of panties decorated with a fanciful ruffed bum.

Far beneath him spreads the vastness of a land he only recently helped to create and he marvels at it, finding himself pleased in a lazy sort of way by the beauty of his own handiwork. Itís a game board that stretches out in all directions around him, a perfect copied portion of a primordial planet he found, recreated by he and his Other and pulled from one plane into another for the sole purpose of becoming the setting stage for what he knows will be an epic new game.

The land is divided and with only the slightest shifts and flashes of color to indicate any movement in his eyes at all, his vision comes to rest on his created half of the board, the child-like creature taking the time to admire everything that heís done with a joyful glee he makes no attempt to outwardly hide. His side of the playing field is wild and untamed, the trees and foliage so crowded and heavy in places that itís impossible to see the ground beneath their roots. What ground does show is lush and overgrown, the tall grasses and plants of every kind placed every which way he saw fit when he was making it, the majesty of their makeup taken from the very planet this board had been copied from then put wherever and whichever way caught his fancy Ėensuring it will be a challenging terrain all on its own.

According to the rules of their game, his playing pieces are meant to reside there, they are meant to call it home and he knows that its chaotic makeup will fool his Other into thinking they do once he places them because how couldnít it? Where else would he have to place them anyway, right? Heís sure his Other will ponder this, even if briefly, asking himself what reason he could possibly have to put them anywhere but there.

Oh, but if only his Other knew what he was up to, if only he knew. Heíd be so angry. Heíd probably call a foul and demand they start all over again if he were to find out what heís done, but he wonít because heís been too clever this time, so clever in fact that in his modest opinion, he really deserves some kind of award.

He has a secret. A super great, wonderful and grand sort of secret thatís sure to finally get him a win.

The mountain he sits upon marks the game boardís center and somewhere down there, miles below, tucked away and hidden to all but himself, is the true main stage for his playing pieces -a special thing heís created without his Otherís knowledge for what heís confident will soon become, his upper hand.

Kicking his feet out, he chuckles to himself, far more amused by his grandiose plans than he should be.

His Other is a lousy cheat and heís tired of losing their games, so this time itís his turn to cheat. This time things will be different. This time, heíll shove a victory down his Otherís throat.

Without warning, the child-like figure suddenly pushes his small frame from his seat and launches himself into the empty air, allowing his slender body to begin a long, unabated fall. The wind whips his clothing and hair upwards as he plummets downward with incredible speed, the rock face that had been miles beneath him taking only seconds to rise up below and no sign of his momentum slowing as it rapidly draws near. Yet the second he would impact, his feet touch the solidity of ground as if he had only hopped down from a short ledge and now teetering on the mantle of a lower cliff face keeping his secret behind barriers that veil it from view, he throws his arms out to his sides in order to maintain a mock sort of balance thatís entirely pointless even as his hair and clothing are settling back to their earlier undisturbed place. Swinging a leg out before him, he takes one casual step after another as if he were on a balance beam of sorts and as he walks along the ledge, pretending every so often when it strikes his fancy to wobble and nearly fall and then waving his arms around in circles of pretend plays at re-balancing himself before straightening, his solid blue gaze slides from his own handiwork and over to the other side of the field, settling on the side that he didnít create.

Unlike his side where the weather is as turbulent as the scenery, the grasses, trees and plants on that side are mostly still, the wind light and warm with the sun shining down to illuminate the pristine stretch of land in an ambient light. Far from the divide between his land and his Otherís, somewhere close to its center a circular marble walled encampment lies. The encampment contains cities upon cities, gleaming towers of alabaster and metal that are divided within themselves into seven separate enclosures -every small stone and walkway shining new and white, as if the color from the surrounding lands has drained from its confines or been bleached as pale as his Other happens to be.

The creature offers the marvelous structure a dissatisfied frown.

Itís uniform, pristine and boring Ėso very typical of his second half and his equally as boring tastes. It lacks imagination and it definitely lacks the beauty heís bestowed upon his own side. Thereís not one thing in its makeup out of place, not one stone, not a single scrolling decorated archway askew and knowing his Other as he does, the playing pieces heís created are going to be just as uniform and just as boring as it. Thinking about it irritates him about half as much as looking at it does.

But, as the small dark haired figure throws a leg out to swing himself around for the fiftieth time in a row, spinning on the other heel until heís turned back to face his created lands once more, he canít help but smile again.

His Other may think heís so clever because his same boring, uniform creations have been winning him their games time and time again, and that heís going to win this one just as easily, but this time, this time, everything is going to change.

His Other can create those boring, uniform, linear flesh bags until the end of time for all he cares, theyíll never again be able to measure up to what he has now.

He has them.

The moment he found them, he knew they were the key to ending his losing streak, he just knew it. Itís because of them that he chose this place for the latest game in the first place, even if his Other is too stupid to realize it, or that heíd already begun to put his aces in play even before theyíd even made their board. He made sure to hide them from his Otherís senses so he could keep them all for himself too and unlike his Otherís boring playing pieces, when he created his toys, he made sure they were super special in every way. He made them the prettiest bodies just like heíd promised them and bestowed those bodies with the only the best gifts in exchange for their part in his game. It was easy to talk them into working for him, or rather, he amends internally, it was mostly easy since there are a few of them who still resist his bribery and offered gifts, but heís not worried. Theyíll all see his side of it eventually; they just need the right little push and he knows that once the others are bonded, the rest will follow. Especially when they see what he built for them, bodies that are tall and pale and imposing, muscular and strong and sturdy, with wings that are majestic and beautiful, each spanning wide and shining pitch with the same hint of iridescence that shows in his own eyes. They are probably -if he can be bothered to remember, some of his finest work yet and just for his own amusement simply because he knows itíll upset his Other when he sees them for the first time, he made sure to give them the same color of hair his second half favors so much, the same color heís sure his Other has given his own worthless toys a hundred billion times before.

Heís going to get a special sort of kick out of the look on his face when his playing pieces go liveÖ he really canít wait.

Coming to a sudden halt as an amused chuckle spills from his lips, the small child-like figure turns to face the dueling scenery beneath him once again, his small arms rising up to rest just behind the back of his head and he smiles a wickedly confident smile.

Itís his turn to take a victory and thatís exactly what he plans to do.

[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.