--one way ticket (open)

[michael]

Lightning flashed in the distance and every once and a while you could hear thunder rumbling in a response. A cold wind blew, ripping the feather on his wings, and tossing his hair about. Slow goosebumps climbed over his skin, over the angelic symbols tattooed on his arms and chest, and he shivered, his body at least aware of the chill. Inside of his mind, Michael didn't notice anything but the storm. This didn't suprise the archangel as for the last few days the sky had been a dark grey, at times almost black, every cloud hanging heavy in the sky. And he could feel it in his bones, this storm that was upon them, and didn't like the origin. To many things were being swayed against his Father's will, and the weather was just the begining. Normally he would never have expected this, as the desert wasn't exactly known for it's damp climate, but during these times... Anything was possible. Ever since his run in with Lilith, he had felt a restlessness settle inside his bones. Every fibre of his being had cried out for a battle, for a chance to prove to himself that still knew what he was doing. His arms cried out for his sword to be used, for the fire to sway along the blade as it carved through demonic flesh. Too much was riding on his skill at the moment, not that Michael was bragging, but he couldn't do everything that the humans seemed to think that he could.

For the last few weeks that he had been here, he was seeing changes that didn't bode well for humanity and so he had finally decided to strap on his anti demon gun, and sling his sword over his shoulder and do what he did best. Hunt and destroy demons. When he had been able to get away from the Soliders, Michael had spent his time chasing his twisted siblings around Tamaya. After the first group he had stumbled upon, a frenzy had gripped him. It hadn't been bloodlust as he had been well aware of everything that he had done. No, it had been a cold fury, Heavens Own Wrath, that had gripped him. When the last demon had fallen in that first group, he immediantly sought out another fight for him to join, or start. He had been like a machine, slashing and shooting through what seemed like an endless horde of demons. The archangel hadn't seem a human for a full week, and neither had he seen any demons. Until a few moments ago.

Standing on a empty rail road track, Michael's calm face stared up at the sky, waiting for the rain to fall from his home. Emotions were hidden deep within him, his expressionless face with his blazing blue eyes, staring out of face that was covered in blood. Almost every inch of him was covered in the stuff, some dry and some fresh, some his and some not. It seemed like he had taken a bath in it, even the majestic white of his wings stained at some point. Somewhere behind him were the smoking ruins of what had been a rather small group of lesser demons, little more than thugs. They had prayed when Michael came out of the shadows, his sword blazing and his gun drawn. Michael ground his teeth at the memory. They had prayed! That must have ment something! Perhaps they could have been saved, but instead of offering them salvation, he had given out Heavens Justice. If it was possibble, Michael needed to be stronger. He needed to be harder and colder. if he wanted to help save humanity, he wouldn't have to care about saving his brothers and sisters as well as humanity. He would have to choose. That meant, that if it ever came down to it, he would have to drive his sword point through Lilith's heart.

A rain drop slattered on to his bare shoulder, and as if that were a spark on a haystack, the skies opened up. Michael closed his eyes, and lifted his arms out, feeling his wings spread as well as the rain started soaking through his clothes and washing the blood off of his skin. Why he hadn't noticed before he didn't know, but he still held his sword gripped in hand, the fire no longer burning along it's length, though the demons blood still dripped down the metal. Thunder crashed overhead and Michael let his wings disappear into his back. For the last few centuries he had never missed a thunderstorm, either coming down to experiance in his human form, or waiting it from above. It was just something that he loved to do, the clashing thunder vibrating his bones and the lightning blinding his eyes. Though it may sound ubsrude, it made him fell like there was something greater than him out there, though he knew that to be true. It made him feel small, like a human that he so loved and envied at times. Implanting the sword in the ground next to him, Michael raised his hands and rubbed them over his face and head, feeling the rain slick his hair to his head. Caught in the thrill of the thunderstorm, and having the thunder crash overhead, he didn't hear anything, but even the rain couldn't wash away a fresh smell. Michael wasn't alone in this abandoned trainyard.

^{STARRING : MICHAEL & SOMEONE
WORDS : 1000+
STATUS : FINISHED
OUTFIT : CLICK
LYRICS USED : USE SOMEBODY - KINGS OF LEON
LISTENING TO : CURSE OF THE VIRGIN CANVAS, ALESANA
BANNER CREDIT : TANA
TAGGED : TANA}

[dream3]

keep calling it a crash and burn waiting your turn you might have time to speak there
BARELY WAS A LESSON LEARNED ,

CAUSE IT WILL RETURN NO FLAVOR
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tagged for lyon! <3 with 100+ words. template by kleptomania ftw?! of caution.[/center]

A hand ran along the spine of the book delicately, carefully. This book had seen only about a tenth of the days his crystal-blue eyes had seen. It was amazing in reality. How books got worn and threadbare, while others such as himself, remained the same for days and days, centuries and centuries. The book, carefully closed was returned to its rightful spot on the shelf in the library, one which was boarded up and where some humans made their shelter. The windows had been painted by anti-demon sigils out of angelic blood. Blood which was not his, and blood to whom he wished not to know of. Approaching a young human, a girl probably about his age - in appearance that is, and smiled, slapping on the charming smile he'd perfected over the years, and spoke, a British accent clearly evident in his words, "Hello, madam."

[/color] he grinned, and shook her head politely, before he spoke, "Now...tell me why someone hasn't taken your hand yet."[/color] The brunette, a light blush creeping on her neck muttered an answer, and the blonde, 6'5" male approached her smoothly, drawing her close, "I must go now, but I shall return for you, when I can."[/color] The girl nodded silently, unaware that someone was watching them. Keen ears picked up the noise of someone huffing slightly, and eyes landed on another guy who was there, and had emotions for this girl. Chuckling calmly, the blond then winked, saying a goodbye before he left. Humans were so easily influenced, he rarely needed to use his empathy in order to get them to do what he wanted. Demons and angels on the other hand, were much easier to toy with with his added power on emotions. Hell, it even worked on Archangels and Validus. Don't ask him how he knew that, it took a lot of time and training to figure that out. And a few fights as well.

Upon exiting out of the library through a window on the second floor, he clung to the side, closed the window, and jumped off, a pair of pearly-white wings bursting from his back. Gliding down, he then drew in his wings, and slid on a jacket over his shoulders. Rumor had it, that Michael and Gabriel, Father's prized angels were down here now. As if they weren't doing a good enough job. To Hell they were. He was pulling out the big guns, and he was tossing angels, like himself and others aside as if they were but mere pebbles in this war. The angel felt his anger bubble up in a mixture of just pure rage, annoyance and especially envy and jealousy. An angel with emotions. How comical. But either way, he felt it bubble up in his blood, and he snarled, unsheathing his sword from his hips, a spiraling flame of yellow, orange and even some purple, showing how hot the flames were, danced along the length of his sword. Holding it at his side, he hissed and approached a demon, and sliced through its back, causing it to cry out in pain and collapse. Sheathing his sword, he demanded, stomping on its chest with a boot he was wearing, "You had better fear Archangels and angels alike you demon."[/color] the guy hissed, and the Angel of Emotions tapped into his own emotions, before lunging depression at this demon, causing it to want to possibly commit suicide if it didn't die before it had a chance to do it.

Walking away, his anger soon dying down, the angel continued walking, hardly realizing just how far he was actually going. Eyes shifted back to the present the moment he almost tripped over something. A rail road. Frowning, he looked down to it, before kicking it once more, sending that spike flying into the air and into the desert. Well, he certainly hoped trains wouldn't be going too fast around here, if there were any that actually ran anymore. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, the angel felt his anger seep from his pores and into a bubble around him, daring anything to get close to this ticked off angel. Why the hell didn't Father just create all Archangels? Especially angels that could be just as strong as Archangels with their powers now. It was ridiculous! Closing his eyes as if in an attempt to conceal his anger, he then looked up and swore, seeing the sky darken, and soon, rain hit his jacket and his head. Wonderful, he thought darkly. He'd just read up on something about rain and all that too. Course the library was only rarely visited by him, he still enjoyed some time there. Kicking a pebble, the blonde then reached the train station then, and paused, seeing a pair of white wings on the other side. Frowning, he inhaled deeply, and immediately recognized the scent. Father's prized Archangel. A deep grudge was aroused at this thought, though he didn't say anything more. He soon smothered it. Though he did respect Michael to an extent, but it didn't go much farther than that. Approaching the Archangel, hands still in his pockets, the Angel of Emotions spoke, tilting his head slightly, "What happened? Demons? That should have been easy for you, unless there were plenty."[/color] he sniffed, "Yeah, I'd guess more than 7."[/color] Course he'd met Michael on multiple occasions, but he had a feeling the Archangel didn't really approve all that much of how he lived. Eying the Archangel intently, Aiden spoke, "How long have you been back here?"[/color]
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