We Live Behind The Sunshine.

[Cloudnine]

Angels live, they never die

Apart from us, behind the sky

They're fading souls who've turned to ice

So ashen white in paradise

To all of God's unwanted children. A paradise of greener pastures awaits.

So be it,

The girl thought, twisting the yellowed slip of paper this way and that. Crumpled, she tossed it away. One of the unwanted children? No, she objected, someone with such a blessed upbringing like hers did not deign her to the heaps of despairing souls in a forgotten corner of the world. Let these fools think what they want- invite me to such a pathetic congregation? I'll play along, I want company. Losing her identity seemed more of a blessing than a bane; she could put things aside and exculpate herself of her heinous memories. She could meet people of all backgrounds- people whom she never had a chance to meet under normal circumstances. The girl sighed; she was already there.

This 'paradise' was nothing more than a small brick pub crammed between a squat boutique and a towering abandoned office building. Well, at least- that's where the slip of directions guided those who have recieved the note. The 'green pastures' were nothing more than cracked asphalt streets embroidered with crushed cans and various litter. Little light filtered into the small pub dubbed 'The Middle Blue', which sported generous slabs of windows sloppily painted over with black paint. Whatever dim light that illuminated the Blue came from little bulbs planted into the ceiling. There was a tiny black stage stashed against the far side of the building with a defunct black sound system, a sliver of a black bar near the entrance, and a clutter of simple black chairs and tables profusely speckled across the black floor giving way to black booths against the walls. Slender waitresses darted through the black havoc with their little black smocks and trays.

The diminutive girl was hidden far from the entrance. She holed up in the corner booth flanked by the edge of the wooden stage. Advertising these days, she lamented, sinking further out of sight. A glass of ice water sat before her- drops of condensation rolling onto the cheap coasters the business offered. Her dull blue eyes fixated on the yellow lemon split against the rim of the glass- it seemed to be the only splash of color among the pub save for one of the waitress' blonde and black tresses, and a badly damaged Les Paul left behind the speakers that was obviously long out of commission. Sighing, she ran a hand through her choppy hair as she eyed the employees darting about- glancing at her untouched glass of water before flocking around the sparse customers that seemed intent on leaving.

"Are you gonna stay a little longer, miss?" That blonde and black haired young woman swung around to the booth. Bumblebee, the girl instantly associated with her appearance.

She shrugged. "I might."

Bumblebee smiled and tucked her empty tray flat against her abdomen. "Well- that's good. There might be a DJ coming in soon. 'Ought to attract a few more guests."

The girl forced a smile- it came out looking like she swallowed a lemon. The waitress feigned a smile too before rushing off to join her fellow employees with waving off the last customer. Shoot me, she exhaled, leaning back to pick her feet up onto the table. She took up a whole seat that way. Gazing at the fine work that went into the fur trim of her boots, the girl tried to count all the dead rabbits that went into the making of such fine footwear.

[Rilon]

[[i'm guessing this is an open RP]]

The young man moved down the cobblestone street. The young man had pink skin, and startling blue eyes. He stood around six feet tall. His lean body suggested a bare minimum diet. Due to the wet dreary weather he had chosen to wear a tan trench coat. His black jeans and long sleeved green t-shirt hidden from sight. He wore no hat over his short cropped blond hair; the chilly wind tousled the short blond locks as he walked down the alley towards his favorite pub.

Habitually he reached into his pocket as he walked in front of the empty office building, his fingers brushed gently against the knife in his pocket. He had always carried it for protection, far too many times had he been caught alone in an alley. The sleek black handle with its silver inlay was comforting. Letting out a sigh, the young man pushed open the door to the pub.

The familiar smell of the pub's mediocre food greeted the teenager's nostrils as the wooden door swung inward. The youth's eyes took in the atmosphere; the pub was deserted except for a small girl who had rested her feet on one of the tables. Her fur boots looked expensive, not the kind you could buy off of a street vendor's cart.

As the door swung closed behind him, the waiter with blond and black hair approached him.

Hey there Kys, how's life for you.

The young man, Kys, smiled.

Not bad Jenny. Food's a little scarce but besides that it's great.

Kys embraced the young woman, giving her a kiss on the cheek. He released her and looked around.

I don't supposed you'd let an old friend buy you a drink?

Jenny smiled at him. Kys smiled back before walking past her and taking a seat at the bar.

I'll have a scotch and Jen will have a shot of vodka.

Edited May 7, 2007 by Rilon

[Fluffywerewolf]

Click, click, click,

His boots echoed off of the barren walls in the alleyway. Dressed in a black leather jacket, with steel-toed boots of the same color, he made his way through the bowels of his city. A cigarette hung casually from his lower lip, on the precipice of falling out, but never quite gone. Beneath his italian fedora, raven black bangs hinted at the top edges of his eyebrows, just barely falling over the tops of his emerald eyes. A hunter's eyes, disturbingly bright in their color peered out from beneath the head cover.

Click, Click, Click

He continued on his way, the baggy black cargo pants he was wearing doing little to cover the powerful leg muscles that were powering his movement. A light, at the end of the alley way, was shining. A sharp inhalation told him that there was food in the building. The smell reminded him that he had not eaten in close to two days. Releasing his lower lip, the cigarette fell to the ground. The last embers faded just before the heavily soled boots flattened them. With one pale hand, he reached out and pushed the door open, inhaling even before it cleared the threshold.

Inside, as one would expect, were all the niceties of modern Diners. Comfortable looking booths lined the walls, and a few tables dotted the expanse of floor. Aside from what looked like a stage against the back, there was little else of concern. A small girl was sitting in a booth, her feet casually resting on the table as she intently examined her footwear. Antother entity, this one a tall, slender male, sat at the bar ordering drinks.

Hmm...

His thoughts fell toward the young man. Clad in a trench coat, he seemed to be more the type that would he would get along with. The other one was simply too wealthy.

Slowly, with that same definitive clicking, he continued on his way to the bar. He took his seat three stools down from the trech coated man and folded his arms up onto the table.

What can I get for ya, hon?

When he spoke, the noise grated out from his mouth with a sound akin to gravel rolling against itself. Deep and threatening, his voice lacked polish or sophistication.

I'll take a beer, and whatever the house special is.

Accustomed to such surroundings, he knew the type of meals served in places like this. Decent enough food in generous portions. His day got even better when the slender waitress placed a heavy mug, filled to the brim with amber liquid and dotted with condensation, in front of him.

Thanks.

[Cloudnine]

The girl's eyes pried their gaze off the dead rabbit boots. The pompoms on it had stopped dangling anyways- she was losing interest fast. A slight chime greeted her ears as the heavy door swung open, heralding the entrance of a young man. Studying his figure with scrutiny, the girl found that his long coat prevented much prying with eyes. She shrugged. Whatever- it wasn't her business anyways; she belonged in this little corner booth and nowhere else, with a lemon water and countless dead rabbits.

Oooh? And what's this? She observed as this young man greeted Bumblebee with a much more… familiar gesture than the simple and nearly churlish customer-to-waitress ‘hey'. It wasn't that she was a roguish type of person, however; just merely unaccustomed to such rituals under the public eye. She felt jealous. How long has it been since someone offered to buy her anything? She sighed. Whatever- it was her fault.

Shifting slightly as one of her legs went numb, she brought both hands behind her head, entwining the individual digits. Pins and needles, pins and needles… she had more sense to resist the urge to stomp her numb foot around and look like a fool. Heck- she was quite good at it- keeping her aloof and disinterested composure steady as she inwardly cussed and swore filthy little words.

Maybe I could join them.

I could talk to them.

No more of this ‘look at my dead rabbits' stuff.

Just as she switched her feet to ease the numbness, the door jingled open again. A figure clad in pure black strode in. The clunk, clunk of his heavy boots outmatched the padded tap, tap noises of her footwear.

Bored enough to cough her eyes out with ice cubes and lemon skins, the exasperated girl made a notion to direct her feet towards the small black bar in the adjacent corner. There were three seats left- and possibly a party of three could stride in any minute and snag those spots? Trust the paranoia.

Glass of lemonade abandoned, she swung her feet onto the creaking black boards and slunk through the disorder of undisciplined chairs and tables. She headed towards Bumblebee, her friend, and the new stranger. Shotgunning the center stool midway between those already there, the girl clambered onto the seat as best as her short legs could. Elbows propped unceremoniously onto the bar, her gaze swept from left to right.

Alcohol.

Oh, a fool she was, but a fool was a fool when it came to peer pressure. "A pina colada, please,” she spoke dryly. Watching as the bartender ambled away, she turned her attention to the person in all black. Bumblebee was keeping the other company. Feet swinging furiously below her, she nodded her thanks as the cocktail was presented before her. She took a tiny sip and paused to nibble on the small pineapple wedge. She didn't like how the alcohol tasted- she liked pineapples better. Her sense of appreciation was limited to the fine quality of her bolero and striped tunic and wafer-thin stonewashed jeans, the dye her hairdresser used monthly on her choppy auburn hair, and of course, those dead rabbits.

"Hey,” she managed to say, praying this awkwardness wouldn't last forever. Half smile.

[Rilon]

Kys took note of the man in black sitting down at the bar and also noticed, with some suprise, the small girl taking a seat as well. The bartender set Jen's bear on the counter but held Kys' scotch in his pudgy hand, Kys absentmindedly flashed the bartender his fake I.D. Satisfied, the pudgy man set down Kys' drink before ambling off to mix up a house special.

Kys, I've been reading a book about angels. It's one your mother used to love to read to you when you were little. I found it in the box of things she left for you. She also left something else for you that she told me you couldn't be shown until you were older.

Kys stiffened visably, he took a sip of his scotch then turned to Jenny while trying to relax. Kys new it wouldn't be good to make a scene in front of the other people. Setting his scotch glass on the counter Kys whispered almost inaudibly.

Angels?

The girl nodded then sighed. She un buttoned the top three buttons of her shirt, revealing some of her cleavage. She reached into a corner of her lacy undergarment and drew out something silver on a chain. Kys' breath caught in his throat, Jenny held a necklace. The piece of jewelry consisted of a long silver chain with a pendant attached, the pendant was in the shape of a single wing.

She wanted you to have this. She said if anything happened to her I needed to keep this until you were old enough to appreciate what it symbolises. Do you remember what she used to tell you when you were scared?

Kys' throat had gone dry, his eyes were threatening to begin tearing. He reached out and took the necklace, admiring the beauty of the craftmanship. He thought back to when he was a child, thought back to before that night when his father, in a drunken rage, had strangled the life out of his mother.

The story of Exorsium, he was an angel who only had one wing. His other wing was cut off when he tried to protect a mortal he had fallen in love with who had promised her soul to the devil. When one of devil's henchmen came to collect what was due Exorcsium sacrificed a wing to save his lover's soul. God was so moved by Exorsium's valor and devotion he ordered that a new wing be smithed for Exorsium out of the finest silver. The silver wing signifies...

Kys' throat clenched tight, as a single tear rolled from his eye.

Love, Devotion and Protection

He reached behind his neck and fastened the silver clasp. As he was putting his arms down Kys accidentally bumped the shoulder of the man in black sitting next to him. Wiping the tear off his cheek, Kys turned to the man and smiled.

Sorry 'bout that.

Edited May 23, 2007 by Rilon

[Fluffywerewolf]

His hands remained steady, despite the aticipation with which he was lifting the mug to his face. He inhaled, the scent of the drink causing his eyes to momentarily flutter. He could feel the mist from the carbonation gently caressing his face. A subtle shift in his wrist brought the mug's brim against his lips, and he took a single swig. He rolled his lips around his teeth, a small laugh and sigh as the liquid cascaded down his throat.

To his greatest surprise, this marvelous occasion was about to get even better. The woman set down in front of him what appeared to be the largest T-bone steak, fries, and going so far to even include a single slice of strawberry cheesecake. He could smell the meat, cooked to perfection, and he could tell that it was probably pink in the middle. Juice dripped from the knife as he pressed it down, removing what some would consider a small mouthfull. As he was about to place it in his mouth, a small nudge rocked his shoulder. Not enough to make a scene over, but enough to break his euphoria.

Sorry 'bout that

The trench coated man said, his eye still showing a tell-tale glint in the dim light. He had been crying, or at least, near to that point. As well, the small girl had relocated, placing herself neatly at the bar. Though she looked rather...young for an alcoholic beverage, at nineteen years of age himself, he wasn't one to judge. Especially regarding the drinking habits of others.

Don' worry about it, no harm done. Ma name's Kaine. His accent was showing through, after having had a little bit of beer help lubricate the inner workings of his throat.