Posts by TBear

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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; color: black; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 95%; text-align: justify;][b][NAME] hannah g. marshal
[NICKNAME(S)] most just call her 'hanna gene'.
[BIOLOGICAL SEX] female
[AGE] eighteen
[SPECIES] human
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; font-family: Georgia; color: black; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 95%; text-align: left;][i]APPEARANCE&&[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; border-top: 1px black solid; width: 400px; margin-top: -6px;][/fancypost]
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[i]HAIR COLOR: light, sunny blonde.
HAIR LENGTH: her hair reaches her past shoulders.
EYE COLOR: whisky brown
HEIGHT: 5"6
WEIGHT: 137 lbs
[b][BODY MODIFICATIONS]
n.a
[CLOTHING STYLE] jeans, flannel, and sneakers.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; font-family: Georgia; color: black; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 95%; text-align: left;]DIGGING DEEPER&&[/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; border-top: 1px black solid; width: 400px; margin-top: -6px;][/fancypost]
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[b][POSITIVE TRAITS] -brave
-protective
-clever
-strong
-has good intuition
-voice of reason
[NEGATIVE TRAITS] -slow
-arrogant
-speaks before she thinks
-irrational
-easily angered or frustrated
[HISTORY] may add
[i]BIRTHPLACE: taos, new mexico
PARENTS: jane marshal and fredrick marshal[deceased]
SIBLINGS: james marshal
OTHER RELATIONS: n.a
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[b][SEXUALITY] panromantic, panexual.
[RELATIONSHIP STATUS] single.
[LOVE INTEREST] n.a
[BOYFRIEND/GIRLFRIEND] n.a
[SPOUSE] n.a
[CHILDREN] n.a
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[b][PLOT IDEAS] n.a
[OTHER] n.a
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robyn was confused.

believe it or not, robyn was confused very often, and the feeling often brought about some of the most note-worthy experiences of his life. confusion shaped him into the person he was now, and despite his hatred for it, he was also able to find some solace in its presence. still, the emotion was incredibly hard to get a handle on, and more often than not left him dizzy and ignorant.

as it was, confusion was, yet again, making an appearance in his life. it swept through his body like an ocean tide, clouding his mind and weighing his bones with its presence. it fed on his ignorance like a tormentor on his victim, sinking its claws into robyn's flesh.

robyn freely admitted that this was possibly the most confused he's ever felt.

on the one hand, he hated fiore. he knew that, knew it with a kind of vehement certainty that surprised even him at times. he simply didn't like the other man, and the reason seemed to be lost in the dredges of his mind, impossible to free. on the other hand, however, he was... worried about the italian. maybe it was a bit of responsibility finally seeping in after slamming into the side of robyn's head for years. maybe it was a the way the man trembled with fear, how, despite his attempts to hide it, robyn could clearly see how terrified the other brunette was as he leaned against his car. maybe it was the way fiore looked just like robyn when he'd first found out that he was into men, too, and his dad was probably going to kill him.

or maybe it was just human decency finally making itself known. robyn doubted it, but as it was said, better late then never.

still, the feeling of sympathy did not compel the american to go after the other man, and by the time he was finished working himself into getting out and seeing if fiore was having a panic attack, the other man slid back into the care and started the engine.

robyn raised a single brow, but fiore did not offer an explanation. instead, the man began to robyn to clarify.
a tense, uncomfortable feeling suddenly swept through the curly-haired brunette, and with a hum that pitched just on the short side of hysterical, he gave a little laugh. "well... i think the best way to dodge the threesome question would be to just... i dunno, walk away, or something. or say you're not interested, although that doesn't always work." robyn paused, fiddling with the hem of his sweater as he spoke. it was an old, dingy thing, a dark, stormy blue that used to accent the american's eyes. now it was more grey than anything, and sagged pathetically against his skin.

"as for the man in the relationship... basically, that's just a straight person wondering who gets it up the- er." robyn's cheeks were alight with an embarrassed flush, and he quickly coughed to try and hide it. "y'know. so, just ignore them or stare blankly at them. most people get uncomfortable enough to simple walk away."

//yes! they're kind of like 'you're an idiot but you're my idiot, and we're in this together so don't go crying and shizz because that makes me very upset to see
///and aww, fiore bby don't be sad D:

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well, that was awkward.

clearing his throat to distract himself from what it was, exactly, that they were talking about, robyn gave a grunt of agreement as fiore spoke. it was weird, but most people who asked didn't really know just how strange it was. he knew it wasn't entirely their fault, but he would never amble up to a heterosexual couple just to ask who the dominant one in the bag was.

the thought only made robyn even more embarrassed, and he began to sink into the car seat. the cool air still nipped at his ears and nose, and his sweater still stunk with vengeance, but he couldn't really find it in himself to care.

blinking as fiore spoke up again, robyn gave a small shrug. "i'm not really sure," he replied honestly. "i know that a lot of my friends know i'm bi, but... well, the coach doesn't know. i think i may be asked to change in the dorm before i arrive, but other than that, i don't think i'll be stoned to death or anything."

lips curling into a frown, robyn silently added that he'd be fine with anything as long as his dad didn't catch whiff of it. the older man wasn't really concerned with his son's sexuality, but usually became upset if he made it publicly known. if the man found out that the whole school knew...
the student rubbed his arm distractedly, shaking himself from his thoughts. the curly-haired man could see the college just ahead, the usually welcome sight looming dangerously over the duo.

//[s]i know it's a beautiful relationship <3
and the drama
there'll be so much of it
i can feel it in my bones

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track

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[heeyy
sorry i waited so long to respond, i had a massive load of work to do :c
i hope you guys don't mind, but i just kind of put a little world-building in there. i think it would be pretty cool if heaven was a huge mess, which is why there are so many angels/archangels on earth.]
Elijah watched with tense muscles, teeth clenched hard as he forced himself not to reach for his dagger. As it was, even with a fresh meal resting comfortably in his stomach, the twenty-one year old knew that he was outmatched. The new arrival was clearly well-rested and powerful, with a dangerous power that lurked behind those deceptively wide eyes. The way he'd brushed past Elijah without much care made the hunter believe that the other man knew it, too.

The urge to kill, however, came strong and fast at the other man's flippant remark about 'feeding the pets'. Logically, the raven-haired man knew the remark was mainly directed at Finn, but even the mere suggestion of insult raised his hackles. Everything about this set him on edge, and the Azariah replied with clear distrust made Elijah want to take a step forward.

The stranger's eyes flickered over to his, though, and the look in them made the hunter freeze.

It had just been brief, but his gaze had seemed... wrathful. As if he would obliterate everyone in the room if he could. The look of cold hatred seemed to freeze Elijah to the spot, and with a despondency that surprised even him, the hunter remained silent, hands curled into fists.
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[size=7pt]Eliot rolled his eyes at his brother's innocuous reply, exasperated but fond. He ruffled the other angel's hair, voice amused as he responded. "I know, I know, and I'm sure Fluffy and Fido feel and think the same as you and me." The blonde shook his head, hand falling to his side. "Really, Azariah, what were you thinking? You can't just take a break from the universe because you want to play with all of the little foxes and humans."

With this, the archangel shot both Elijah and Finn a look, face clearly unamused.

Truthfully, he understood why Azariah had left; heaven was a mess, little more than a cesspool of human souls wandering aimlessly around in their happy memories. Angels were killing each other and themselves, and even from where he stood Eliot could still feel the phantom blood of his enemies.
Still, even Eliot had his limits, and when the younger angel had left without so much as a word, as well as their sister, the archangel had been borderline hysteric.

And when he found out that his baby brother was hanging around with a hunter and- that one, his worried hysteria had morphed into a repressed, steaming rage. He knew the type of people that did what these two did - heartless and cold, tricksters until the day they were dragged into hell.

Speaking of which...

The fox - Phinneas, Eliot mentally hissed - was speaking, voice careful as he talked. The archangel would've snorted, but the action was far too human for his liking. His face remained carefully still and disinterested, and with a careless shrug of his shoulders, the archangel turned away, prepared to zap he and his brother elsewhere. Obviously, they weren't wanted - and Eliot didn't really want to be there, either.

And then the kitsune kept talking.

Freezing, hand inches away from Azariah's forehead, Eliot slowly began to turn. His face was an impassive mask, but his aura was dark with danger. For the first time since entering the house, the blonde actually looked at the fox.

Eliot's eyes were usually blank and dead. It was the one thing he couldn't change about himself - the way his eyes stared impassively through his otherwise changing face, giving him the appearance vaguely resembling a dead fish. The archangel wasn't sure why that was, really, but he'd never questioned it, since it had never really been a problem before.

Now, it only furthered to add to the disturbing experience of having someone stare into your soul. Finn's was dark and alive, pulsating a vibrant red and bright gold color. The core, a rotten black, was warmed by the weaving lights swirling around it.

Something was different about it and, taking a slow step forward, Eliot realized what.

Immediately, his heart grew cold. Any pretenses of not knowing the other kitsune were thrown out of the window, and with a disturbingly empty look on his face, Eliot spoke.

"Phinneas," he started monotonously. "I thought you didn't turn 200 for another couple of years?" the lights flickered on and off, and a couple of loos objects began to rattle as the floor briefly trembled.

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[sub][color=black][size=8]|.sometimes the best things come from making simple mistakes.|[sub]
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Rolling his eyes and flashing Colin a quick grin, Kaleb made a show of folding his hands behind his head. "You aren't a gentleman, Col," he teased lightly, tilting the chair backwards. "You're just Whipped. With, like, a capital 'W', or a jumbo-sized whip. Or.... something." Kaleb paused, wrinkling his fast in distaste. "Eh, you understand what I'm saying." With a shrug, the brunette slammed his chair back onto the ground with a thump. In the same motion, the hunter had leaped onto his feet, careful to dance around the one-man cleaning crew.

//ruuuuusheeeeed so sorry :c

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-viciously reads through plots-
eskie:
dude, yes! i already love their unwritten interactions <33 (and yes i will not-so-secretly be shipping the hell out of that shizz)
oh and james is probably going to develop a puppy-love thing for hemlock because he's, like, sixteen and boy crazy af.

also, i kind of had a feeling as i was making james that he'd be easily taken advantage of, and in a realistic situation, he would not last long at all. i think that if i do end up killing him off it'll be really depressing with a someone singing My Pretty Sunshine as he dies or somethin. either that or he'll go completely psycho bat sh-t lol.

[also i can't be the only one who thinks he'd get along really well with gunner, right?]

also, if anyone would like to plot with either james or hannah, they're still completely open to it~

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holy cow this is gonna be such an active thread

i leave to do the dishes and there's a whole 'nother page
i am so freaking pumped

eskie, brah, hemlock is such a cute freaking bear.
like, kind of creepy, but cute af.
i can just imagine james sketching him and then doodling little hearts around his name and then stuttering with excuses when hemlock sees what he's doing lol

oh and hannah would absolutely hate hemmy. she'd always be staring at him as if she were planning on murdering him again even though that's pretty much impossible at this point lol
like and i feel like she would love making necrophilia/pedophilia jokes idek
hannah's just has twisted humor like me

vixx,
yesyesyesyes
i feel like noah and james would have the most adorable relationship ever
like james is super good with kids so he thinks all noah needs is a little love and she'll stop being all manipulative and evil
like they'd just sit side-by-side drawing different things
[plus james would likely think noah is adorable lol]

OMG james would admire zack like SO MUCH because of how 'cool' he is
like he'd try to mimic the way he posed or spoke or something but would always fail
but he'd be super grumpy and sad when/if he found out about zach's addiction
like why bae i thought you were so cool

as for hannah, i think she'd be one of the first people to know
but she's like a chain smoker so she ain't judgin.
i don't know how much she'd like him as a person tho lol.

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vixx,
omfg, they'd be so adorable~
so excited for this thread~

falling crows,
mmmmaybe james or hannah could be axed?
lol i don't wanna kill my babbbieeees :'c
but, alas, it must be done
as for plots, i'd totally be interested in a hannah-colin friendship thing[pre-murderous, psychopathic tendencies, ofc]
maybe she finds out what he's been doing and confronts him? like, he doesn't want to kill her at first, but she's super po'd and a little scared and threatens to tell the group or somethin'
i dunno lol

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falling crows,
haii~
i know, right? colin's such a sweetie he'd just deal with hannah's tendencies to be a little hotheaded haha ^^;;

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falling crows,
omfg yes haha ><
they can just be two lil' angry muffins glaring at the world lol

vixx,
yep c:

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Maybe I went too far.

Daniel's face was carefully innocuous as Justine stared.

Hm. Noted. Do not try to avert attention with the 'someone is looking for you excuse' or the promise of weed. The mental note was entirely for his benefit, and the blonde was dreadfully tempted to reach up and begin tugging at his earlobe, as he did whenever he had a thought or observation.

As it was, Justin was already giving him a weird look, so Dan was careful to control himself. There must've been something in the way the blonde had spoken or acted that tipped even the big brute off. Daniel felt a bit disappointed in his apparently awful acting skills. Still, live and learn, as his motto was. Besides, if worse came to worse, the seventeen year old could transfer to another school again. That was always fun.

Thankfully, Daniel was obviously second to any promise of pot (which was good to know, thank you very much Justin. D!ck). The large teen seemed a little mollified, but still suspicious, as he and his cronies began moving. Daniel watched them with an empty smile, but as soon as the last one passed him by, Daniel's smirk fell. His face, which had previously been a complicated layer of emotions, was now nothign but a blank slate. He watched the group retread with dull eyes and Sighed to himself as they rounded a corner. He rolled jaw around distractedly, lithe fingers coming up to clasp the lobe of his ear. As his face slowly began to relax entirely, Daniel turned his attention on the other male.

The kid was still on his a-s, anger and indignation burning brightly in his whisky-hazel eyes as he glared. His face was so expressive and easy to read that Dan could tell he was simply seething anger. The blonde was surprised at the odd aftertaste of bitter jealousy in the thought as he stared in the other's irises, head cocked minutely to the side. Here was somebody who never had to hide his thoughts - no, who never wanted to. If the other was angry, you would be able to tell by the furrow of his brow and the twitch of his lip. If he were happy, you'd be able to tell by the shine in his eye, and the skip in his step.
If Daniel were angry, his face would stay the same, brows carefully relaxed and eyes perfectly cold. If he were happy, there was the occasional twitch of the lip, but otherwise his expression would remain the same.

The thought passed fleetingly, but it disturbed and even concerned him, and with intense vigor, the seventeen year old quickly ed push it into a dark, unused corner of his mind. He instead concentrated on studying his oh-so-grateful victim, pausing to take in the dark brown-blonde head of curly, fluffy hair. His face was youthful but narrow, limbs and torso lithe and willowy and awkward in a telltale sign of teen adolescence. His eyes were a murky, but glittering hazel, although they were narrowed and displeased. His brows seemed to crease in a perpetual frown, and the heavy scowl he wore gave him an unattractive stare. His clothes were still mussed, and he looked a little ashen, but other than that he seemed unharmed. Although, Daniel did have to wonder about the shaky clarity in the other's eyes, and decided that the other blonde was probably in possession of a concussion.

Sighing briefly to himself, Dan forced himself from his mind just in time to hear the other kid's biting words.

The taller teen's response was a cool raise of the brow, lips twitching downwards for the briefest millisecond. Then all expression was gone, and Daniel was back to a monotonous stare. "I think that would usually be the question I'd ask you," he replied, not even bothering with infliction or empathy. He'd done his part - he had risked his neck for this random kid. He didn't need to justify himself or coddle the other teen now - and anyway, the darker-blonde clearly did not wish him to.

Despite this, Daniel still leaned forward to offer the other male a hand up. "Anyway, I just pretty much ruined your one-way ticket to the E.R. A little thanks wouldn't be completely out of place." Okay, so, yeah, Daniel wanted to piss the other off a little bit. That was fine, right? Completely human.

Not spiteful at all.

//well, thank you, anyway ^^ the same can be said about you're writing - i love reading your posts~
and it's no problem, hun. happens all the time c:
omfg tho can we talk about scout
like stop writing him so well
he's so freaking precious

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_{[shadow=white,left]we're all works in progress[/shadow]}
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[heeeey lennon
so sorry this isn't a post, but i just had to let you know that i'm dropping this thread :c
it has nothing to do with you or you're characters/plot [because ilu fiore you little queen if you were not gay i'd marry the fck outta u kaybai] it's just that i have a lotta crap going on irl, and i'm only going to keep a few threads.

umm anyway i just thought i should let you know instead of just, yanno, not replying. but i wish you the best of luck and i really think that you should persue this thread 'cause it's adorable and i'm sure there is someone so much better than me to rp with! certainly someone more active lol.
annnnywhoozle, thanks so much for dealing with me~

maybe we could talk sometime when i'm not so busy, yeah?]

❤︎

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Elijah watched the scene unfold uneasily, fingers twitching where they rested uselessly against his sides. The way the newcomer - Eliot, apparently - looked borderline murderous, even as he gave Azariah a fond smile and ruffled his hair, set the hunter off. Obviously he had some sort of history with everyone except, thankfully, for Elijah. The hunter was glad, for once, that he had been largely ignored, left to stand dumbly by in the doorway, half inside and half out of the apartment.

As the conversation went on, Elijah only got even more confused. Nemo was saying something about heaven. When had that become a subject? Maybe it was just a codeword for their... den, or something. The hunter's musing's were interrupted by Phinneas's words. Immediately, the hunter was weary; taking another tentative step outside, Elijah carefully bent to grab his dagger. The feeling of cool metal felt good against the palm of his hand, weighing comfortably by his side.

He shifted it carefully, fingers skittering across its smooth surface. Luckily, he'd sharpened it before he'd left the motel, and the hunter unhappily recalled that he hadn't really thought enough to bring any extra gear. A silver dagger could only do so much.

Careful to keep his breathing even, Elijah felt his grip tighten as Finn spoke, obviously adding oil to water. The reaction was immediate; the air seemed to become cooler, and felt oppressive and tight, almost as if someone were squeezing his throat. Struggling to breathe now, Elijah swiped his tongue across his upper lip.

What happened next seemed a blur, now; Finn turned to leave, and Eliot immediately reacted. A glass laying on its side shattered, shards flying after the kitsune as he disappeared out of the window. His fiery footsteps seemed to multiply, and when Elijah shoved past the brothers to look out the window, his face was slack in amazement. The footprints Finn had left were burning bright with remnants of fire, slowly declining into ash.

Suddenly, the oppressive air seemed to tighten even further, and with reactionary instincts Elijah didn't even know he had, the hunter ducked. The window cracked and splintered, shattering just as the raven covered his head. Elijah was pretty much freaking out at this point because, hello, the freaking guy isn't even touching anything and he's trashing the entire apartment.

Breath coming in heavy gasps, Elijah barely had time to move before Eliot strode over to him; the blonde glided across the floor, barely stepping on the floor as he moved. He walked with a dangerous poise, and when he finally made his way to the human, his face was the mask of deadly calm. Taking the human by the lapels of his jacket, Eliot quickly tossed him to the aside. The raven felt distinctly like a ragdoll as he slammed into the wall, pain exploding in his back.

Dimly, the human was aware that Eliot was staring out of the window, grip on the sill tight. Glass shards pierced Eliot's pale hands, but he didn't even acknowledge the crimson liquid as it gushed from his fingers. The man had a distinctly displeased look on his face, but his eyes were still dead, staring almsot unseeingly into the night.

Dawn was coming soon, but the morning-glow had yet to set in; the foggy, cold air bit at Elijah's nose as it wafted through the open window, causing the human to shudder. Immediately, he winced, groaning as his back made an uncomfortable click.

That... was probably not supposed to happen.

Blinking the pained fog from his eyes, Elijah tried to roll onto his feet. The effort proved useless, but luckily Eliot was no longer focused on him. The blonde man's dead eyes were staring at Azariah. "...I'll be back. Stay here, Az, or I swear by the entire garrison that I will hunt you down and drag your angel a-s back to heaven without a single word. Understood?"

But Eliot didn't wait for a response; he was too concentrated on his goal, something driving him forward to give chase after Finn. With a quiet flutter of wings, the creature was gone, leaving only Azariah and Elijah in the room.
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[size=7pt]Eliot was... not happy.

Even as he fluttered around the neighborhood, in search of the kitsune, he felt distinctly displeased, mouth stretching into a frown. The motion wasn't very necessary - in fact, the archangel would even go as far as to say it was redundant - but it helped, somehow, to be able to convey his displeasure, especially since he had nothing on hand he could smite.

His emotions were in a disarray; his earlier assumption had only been just that, but Phinneas Voight's response to the question had definitely confirmed to him what, exactly, had happened. The kitsune had used Azariah - depleted his energy - and didn't care. The thought made Eliot's blood boil with a simmering rage, and his teeth clicked together as a nearby window cracked and shattered. He needed to get that under control; if not, he may end up bringing attention to himself.

//rushed yo

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[size=7pt]Daniel had never believed in fate. Not when he was a child, and not as the teenager he was now; the mere idea was a little ridiculous and fantastical, something that should be reserved only for the pages of a novel. As a logical mind even at a young age, the blonde had learned mixing fantasy and reality only ended up disappointing and hurting you. And yet, even as he offered his hand to the other teen, Fate, in her all-knowing omnipresence, had once again begun weaving the beginnings of a story.

The boy with so much passion and liveliness it often got him in trouble, who wished to hold back but couldn't, because he wore his emotions behind a thin paper bag that kept tearing open at the seams. The other, who barely knew how to live, so careful and concentrated on keeping himself calm and collected and emotionless, so good at it that he was practically a dead man walking.

A kid with anger management issues, and one with vaguely sociopathic tendencies.

If Daniel had believed in fate, he might've expected sparks to fly as the shorter boy took his hand. He might've expected a shiver, or some sort of earthquake, or something. But instead, all he felt was the calloused palm being pressed to his, gripping his hand firmly but not tightly. And, since Daniel did not believe in fate, or even believed that this action had any relevance to anything at all, he was left blissfully apathetic about the whole thing.

Pulling the other teen up - a feat which should not have been as easy as it had been - Daniel was quick to withdraw his hand, even as the other teen did the same. Despite the other's far frailer appearance, his hands were a little bigger, and rougher with blisters and sores. Scout's palm was also bigger than his, but his fingers were shorter. While the other teen was on his feet, a little unsteady but otherwise fine, Daniel was able to tell that he was taller by a couple of inches, and also built a little thicker. While Scout was all willowy limbs and angular bones, Daniel was lean muscle and rounded edges.

Watching silently as the copper-haired teen struggled to hold back on his anger, clearly not too eager to be knocked on his a-s again, Daniel began to believe that the other youth may be struggling to find the words to apologize or even say 'thank you'. There chance was slim, but the taller blonde couldn't help the edged of optimism that clouded his mind. The shorter blonde opened his mouth to say something, and really, now Daniel was at the edge of his seat, waiting for the inevitable grateful/apologetic remark.

"I didn't ask for you're f-cking help," came the voice of gratefulness.

Charming, Daniel thought, his brow twitching as it threatened to raise. Well, it wasn't as if the words had been completely out of left field; coupled by the fact that the other teen was probably suffering massive man-pain right in the pride and that that he looked as if he wanted to strangle Daniel, the words were relatively mild.

And, oh, wow. The guy was pretty much glaring the glare of imminent death, and was staring directly in Daniel's eyes as if he could make them burst into flames. Scout's hands were practically shaking at his sides, and the copper-haired teen's face had turned into an interesting shade of red. He was clearly holding back the urge to be the living crap out of Daniel, and while the action was clearly meant to be threatening, the other teen looked more like a petulant child than anything.

Well, I'm terrified, he sighed dully to himself.

Out loud, he said, "I'm pretty sure nobody asked for Harriet Tubman's help, either. But look where we are." Ah, yes. Excellent move. Comparing himself to an important historical figure who had a hand in ensuring the independence of slaves, while simultaneously comparing the other boy to a lowly slave.

If Daniel kept this up, he may even make a new friend.

Taking a subtle step backwards, Daniel kept his face cool and nerves under control. If worse came to worse, he could probably take the other teen - the only problem was, he really just didn't want to. Daniel had never actually hit someone before, had always taken pride in that, and he didn't want this kid to be his first time.

Wow, that actually sounded awful. Why had he thought that? That was not a good thought to have while facing an angry teen who refused to accept that he'd been saved for once.

Sometimes, Daniel was very confused on how his brain worked.

//thank you <3333 and i know! this is absolutely adorable, i love it so far :)
///and yes
their interactions are going to be entirely made up of scout being angry and daniel low key sassing him

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There was, Elijah reflected, something strange about being thrown into a wall by someone with superhuman strength. Though this was a surprisingly regular occurrence for the hunter, the feeling always shocked him more than he liked. Mostly, he became numb until the adrenaline wore off, in which case he was pretty much screwed until he could get to the hospital.

He didn't like risking the hospital record, but he wasn't stupid enough to believe that the wound would just 'go away', especially if something vital was broken. Luckily, he had never hit his tailbone against a wall, and therefore was able to walk with relative ease to urgent care.

As it were, Elijah was already having trouble simply getting to his knees - the usual numbness was wearing quickly, since there was no imminent danger, and the hunter was pretty sure he had just bruised his spine.
A muffled voice spoke up from by the couches, and Elijah grit his teeth. The words were warped and muttered to his ringing ears, but the hunter got the gist of them. "Your brother's a d-ck," he replied with a grunt, even as the angel knelt beside him. Somehow, having the man hover worriedly beside him gave the raven-haired hunter the push he needed, and with grit teeth, he stumbled onto his feet. His back began to throb with a stabbing pain almost immediately after, but he forced a grin and brushed his hands off on his pants. "I'm fine, though. No need to worry."

Rolling his shoulders back and forcing himself to focus, Elijah stubbornly began to move forward. His back protested with every step, but experience kept him from buckling or wincing. As he reached the window, Elijah noticed the faint pinkish-hue of dawn in the distance, and with a displeased sigh, the hunter realized that the rain had depleted into a light shower. Still, it was enough that he knew there was no chance in tracking the duo, and it frustrated him to no end.

The hunter turned back to Azariah, hesitant but determined. "...I don't really know what's going on," he confessed reluctantly, "but people could get hurt if I don't find Brother Dearest and Foxy. I need to know if you could locate them." Azariah would likely be as hesitant as the hunter, if not more, but playing the 'people could die' card might work on him. Elijah felt a little guilty, but he knew that he'd been slacking on his job.

He couldn't let the two creatures live - not if they were planning on fighting in the middle of the street and killing any passerby. Elijah was hesitant to believe that Finn would, due to his claims of being 'good' and the all-around nice, if a little detached air he gave off, but that Eliot as-hole definitely would, and the hunter didn't feel comfortable leaving something like that on the streets.

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The rain was cold and slick as it fell, clinging to the fabric of his clothes and wetting his hair so that it was plastered against his forehead. His clothes sagged heavily, dragging across the pavement and dipping into pools of water. The fox's footprints were hot with the residual fires that licked at the ground, but even that was quickly washed away by the rain, leaving nothing more than vaguely charred remnants of the prints.

Once, Eliot had caught sight of the kitsune, but Finn was gone as soon as he had appeared, leaving nothing but the scorching prints of his paws. This was obviously a game to the fox, but Eliot was feeling a deranged sort of anger pulsating grossly in his veins, urging him forward even as his mind told him that recklessly fighting the kitsune would result in nothing but more bloodshed.

His body wouldn't listen - the archangel's eyes kept flashing between a bright, opaque blue and his vessel's much darker sapphire. His fingers twitched by his side, the ground cracking beneath him. He flew with the kind of precision and decisiveness that gave the impression he knew where he was going.

He knew that Phinneas was stronger than he had been before - a second tail was nothing to sneeze at, and the archangel knew the fox knew that as well. But the blonde was confident that as long as the fox didn't attempt to feed off of Eliot's power, that he'd most assuredly would win. He was a warrior of heaven - compared to that, this brat of a second-rate goddess was essentially useless.

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Elijah rolled his eyes as the angel spoke. He could've guessed that from the way the dude completely freaked after his little brother was insulted. Then the man's words caught up to him, and for some reason, Elijah found it hard to breathe. The feeling was brief, but it sent shivers down the injured man's spine, and unconsciously he took a step back. "Archangels?" he croaked out, but the words were lost even to himself.

Elijah had heard rumors, of course - had known of the possibility. That was probably the reason he wasn't having a bigger freak out, but the shock was still present. Still, this raised a couple of hundred other problems - the largest being that there was pretty much no human way to kill them. The dagger Elijah carried, flimsy in comparison, would probably do nothing but briefly sting the other male.

Panic flared violently in the pit of his stomach, and slowly Elijah allowed himself to lean against the wall. The pain it caused him was second to the pain in his chest as he realized what the potential dangers were. Before, it had seemed possible to at least harm the supernatural freak - now, it was pretty much impossible.

Azariah's voice brought Elijah from his self-inflicted panic, but they didn't do much to comfort him. "I know," he responded bluntly, careful not to give away any panic. He realized that the angel was only trying to help, but they only served to frighten Elijah even more.

He was juggling too many balls, and he didn't know how to stop.

Blinking as the curly-haired man spoke once more, Elijah felt his lips curl into a sort of self-depreciating little smile. He shrugged, detached, and answered, "I can't make any promises. But I'll try not to hurt him too much." Privately, the hunter thought he wouldn't have to try that hard. Still, it was best to keep up a tough act, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little mollified to hear that Az considered him a threat.

The thought was enough to ease away some of his panic and terror, and when Azariah spoke again, all Elijah could do was nod dumbly, not bothering to protest. After all, he wouldn't be able to do much in the state that he was in, and the hunter was getting real tired of the pain that traveled up and down his spine.

He flinched when Az'z fingers made contact with his face, expecting some sort of blinding light or something, only to be surprised when the pain simply... stopped. Blinking in wonder, Elijah was surprised when he realized that he wasn't even tired, or sore. He felt rejuvenated and the raven-haired man couldn't repress the pleased groan that escaped him as he bent backwards to crack his back.

"Thanks, Nemo," he said sincerely. With this, the hunter felt a little more confident in his abilities to preform and, with a cursory glance around the apartment, Elijah located and scooped up his dagger. The metal was cool from lack of handling, and the raven was careful to grip it tight.

"Well," he began, cracking his neck as he did, "I think its time we head out." he paused, as if considering, and in a considerably more worried tone of voice, asked Azariah, "what about you? Won't Brother Dearest be upset that you defied his orders?" Elijah didn't think that Eliot would smite Az or anything, but it was possible that he could force the other back to heaven. And, according to the two angels, things weren't so hot back there.

Elijah was loathe to admit it, but he was a little concerned for the curly-haired male.
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It wasn't long until Eliot felt a spike of life force somewhere in the near vicinity - to big and bright to be a human, to be sure, and just rotten enough to stink of fox. Of course, the archangel thought with a snarl. The kitsune would want to feed before battling - that was a given, an old battle tactic that would reveal his position, but leave him stronger in the end.

Clearly, Phinneas was not as confident about his victory as he let on.

Smiling grimly to himself, the pulsing heat in his stomach began to grow. The mutt was confident he could beat Eliot - had already been so happy with himself when he tricked Az, that his cocky attitude was already starting to get to the blonde. Just as the angels were made to protect and love humans, archangels had been made to protect and love their brothers and sisters, and Eliot was a prime example of that.

Someone had tricked his brother - someone had used him, violated his trust, and thew it right back in his face without a single hint of remorse. It was time for that someone to pay.

Rounding another corner with this thought in mind, Eliot was not surprised to see Phinneas waiting for him. He was in his fox form, red fur vibrant even in the dawn light. The creature's gold eyes flared as the dim sun hit them, and for a minute the blonde had the peace of mind to reflect that the creature would be beautiful, if only he couldn't see inside that blackened heap of coal the kitsune called a soul.

"Voight," Eliot hissed, rumbled and growled. The sound was garbled and threatening, even in the face of the archangel's apparent youth. It was also a clear challenge - the tense way the angel held himself promised that.

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[track!
would you prefer a real-life faceclaim or anime?]

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Elijah grunted, unconvinced but unable to put up more of an argument, and followed the angel to the window. Dawn was coming fast, and the hunter was able to hear the shift of people in the next apartment over. It was surprising that they hadn't woken sooner, what with all of the noise they had made, but Elijah figured they were used to noisy neighbors.

Still, the awakening of people made him anxious, and his fingers began to twitch. To distract himself, the raven began to silently turn the handle of his dagger over, fingers rubbing against its smooth metal. His nails gave a soft click, click, click sound as he fiddled with the handle, and Elijah vaguely reminded himself he needed to clip his nails.

He was happy when Azariah spoke up again, and with a sharp nod, the hunter swept down and shoved his weapon into his boot. "Alright, let's go." He turned toward the door to leave, and then paused and then cleared his throat. "You, uh - wouldn't happen to have the ability to teleport, would you? 'Cuz it's cool if you don't, but, uh, I don't think we'll make it by power walking."[/fancypost]
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Eliot swept to the side, easily dodging the kitsune's attack, before rounding on the creature with a wild look in his eyes. Reaching surreptitiously into the sleeve of his shirt, the archangel took a hold of his angel blade, sliding it easily into the palm of his hand. It weighed him there, keeping his mind and body in place as he stared at Phinneas with calculating eyes.

The fox was playing with him, this much he knew. The first move had been so blatantly obvious that even the weakest angel in the garrison could've seen it coming. The thought should've p-ssed Eliot off even further, but instead, it made his lips twitch into a pleased smile. The kitsune was playing with him - he obviously underestimated just how lethal Eliot could be.

The archangel had made a mistake in letting the other live. He should've just killed the cub then. But he'd been a softhearted fool, unwilling to destroy so much potential.

Foxes, he was quickly learning, were indeed the tricky, conniving creatures that his brethren had always told him they were.

At that thought, his smile fell, and with a sudden grace, darted at Finn, aiming to slash into the fox's side.

[it's no problem, hun ^^
also PLOT IDEA!
what if finn's mom and eliot were kinda together? like, they were a power couple until she left for finn's dad and he never quite got over it? or something, lol].