fangednconfused (fangednconfused) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2020-07-28 11:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | derek mitchell, ~phanuel |
Angel Stuff
Who: Derek Mitchell, Phanuel
What: Not So Friendly Introduction
Where: Searchlight, Public Storage
When: Before the Disaster, Night
Ratings/Warnings: None
The phone alarm went off, playing the intro from Kid Cudi’s ’the Prayer’. Derek rubbed his eyes with a groan. 9:00 PM. He sat up inside the dark storage unit, stretching his neck from side to side. He had fallen asleep there, using his wadded-up hoodie as a pillow, his bed nothing but the cement floor. He stood up, brushing some dirt off his clothes, and grabbed the phone, and placed it safely in his jeans pocket.
Shuuump. He pushed the corrugated steel door up and greeted the night. The vampire usually didn’t make it a habit of staying in Searchlight for more than an evening, but he also wasn’t ready to go back to Las Vegas. Being lonely in a dead town was much easier than being lonely in a busy one.
After locking up the unit, Derek began to wander aimlessly down the road. Maybe he’d go to Terrible’s. Maybe he’d find a hitchhiker to snack on. His time was wide open.
In retrospect, she probably should’ve returned the finger to its proper resting place. It was cursed after all. And Phanuel would know. She suggested the fucking idea (as a joke) during one of their drinking games.
It was only right that she returned William’s phalange to his gravesite.
It was the right thing to do.
She wasn’t always one to do the right thing, though. Not that the Angel would break His laws. Bend them, sure. Twist them up in knots until you can’t see where the Commandment started and where it ended. (If only Moses hadn’t lost the third tablet.) But since she walked away from Heaven, Phanuel was committed to doing things on her own terms.
So, she’d started the trek late in the afternoon, barefoot in the blazing sun and oppressive heat, a journey to her storage locker to deposit the finger along with some of her other keepsakes.
Derek halted in his tracks when he heard the familiar sound of another locker door opening behind him. That wasn’t what made him turn around, though. It was the desert air carrying a scent to him, one that he could easily say, in his ten years of vampirism, was entirely unfamiliar.
He paused when he reached about a ten-foot distance from the stranger. His eyes were drawn to the storage unit’s contents. The vampire shrugged and reached into a pocket, removing an expertly rolled joint. He placed it in his mouth and lit it with a Zippo. On the exhale, Derek spoke up.
“If this were ‘Storage Wars’, I’d be stoked.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuckity fuck.
She’d accounted for the guard patrolling the eastern perimeter. But Phanuel had assumed that there wouldn’t be any interlopers at this hour. And the last thing she needed, was someone sniffing at her collection. The Angel made a mental note to reinforce the lock after this encounter.
Phanuel pivoted towards the voice. She took in the unwelcome visitor, and the vapor he blew out of his nostrils. Hoodie, jeans. Dust on the cuffs of his jeans.
“Yeah, just keep moving on. Nothing for sale here,” she chided.
“Not looking to buy.”
Derek narrowed his eyes, taking another step toward her. He tried to smell her without appearing obvious, but it just came out looking like he needed to sneeze. “You made a mistake, though. Saying ‘keep moving on’ is like waving a red flag at a bull. If I were, say, ill-intentioned...you really caught my attention.”
Something about her voice had goaded him. It was the parental-sound, he decided. Admonishing. That was the word. Like he was a kid. The vampire took another hit, hoping it would alleviate the ill-feeling. Chill.
“If you were ill-intentioned, I’d have to put you in your place,” Phanuel spat back. She was the (ex) Face of God. The only entity ever to put her in her place was her Father, and even then, she showed a rebellious streak.
“And bulls ultimately get speared by the Matador.”
He flicked the joint to the ground, extinguished it with a sneakered foot. “My place.” Derek thought about that for a moment. “I’ve never found my place. Maybe you’d be doing me a favor.” The vampire was only being half-sarcastic.
Then, it happened in a flash. He used his natural speed, ending up in front of her next to the storage locker. “Let’s be real here.” Derek smiled curiously, and the sharpness of his teeth was visible. “What are you?”
Teeth. And preternatural speed. That narrowed it down considerably.
“Oh, you’re a vampire!,” Phanuel exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly. “I’ve met your kind before.”
The Angel allowed a sliver of light to envelop her being, just enough to make a point. Her voice echoed. “It didn’t end well for him.”
Derek blinked. “I knew my shit was good, but not this good. Damn.” He rubbed his face, studying her intently.
“Let me guess. Did you glow him to death? Or was it more bloody?” He leaned in, not being able to help the grin that came to his face. “Did you tear him limb from limb? Use his skull as a drinking vessel?”
The vampire rubbed his hands together. “I love a good war story.” He wasn’t quite sure what the lady was, or what she was about. What he did know was that she came with killer special effects editing.
A shame her angel blade was packed away. That would’ve made short work. Phanuel studied the vamp carefully. “You’ve been reanimated what, ten, fifteen years?” She sniffed the air, pushing her senses past the obvious marijuana smoke. “You smell like … yes, you have that ‘new car smell’ about you. You probably know nothing of war.”
She kept her focus on him as the light grew brighter. “As for who I am. I am something far fucking older. I closed the Gates of Eden to Adam and Eve, I sang with the Heavenly Host at Christ’s birth and I wept at His crucifixion. I am not the Alpha, nor am I the Omega, but I have Them on speed dial.”
“Crack open a Bible. Book of Enoch.”
“No shit? Huh.” The brightness emanating off of her was making him feel sea-sick, similar to the rare occasions the vampire found himself in daylight. “I thought Adam and Eve was just a story to make women look bad.”
Derek stepped away, wishing he owned some sunglasses. “Hold up a second.” He held up one hand. “If you’re some holy...person, why do you need a storage unit in the middle of nowhere? Can’t you just…” He waved his hands. “Make stuff appear out of thin air?”
Then, an eyebrow furrowed. “Waaaaait. Are you like Satan? The Morning Star? Fallen one?”
Technically, she thought to herself, I quit. There’s a difference. “I am NOT my brother. Nor am I his keeper. And no, I can’t give you his fucking contact information.”
Well, she’d come this far. And this vampire was too full of himself to show any fear. Time to unfurl them.
Phanuel shrugged. Wings appeared. She amped the light show.
Her voice became otherworldly. “I AM PHANUEL, ONE OF THE FOUR ANGELS OF PRESENCE. AND THOU SHALT NOT FUCK WITH ME.”
Derek was rocked backward. He landed on the pavement and felt something wet trickle down his neck. A hand brought up to wipe it away, then examined: blood. A small amount of blood had come out of his ear. It was a surprising sight, that vivid red. Somehow more real than the stuff he drank on a nightly basis.
“I’m not trying to fuck with you,” the vampire muttered, getting slowly back to his feet. “I was only curious.” He took in the wings, a surreal sight in the middle of this desert scene. “Okay, maybe I’m sometimes a dick about it.”
He held up his blood-smeared palm. “This is new. You can’t expect a guy not to ask questions. But I do have one last one, and it’s serious.”
“You’re obviously an angel, right? With the wings. So...can you see stuff? If I told you my parents’ names, could you look in on them, and see if they’re...doing okay?” His voice was sincere now. “In return, I’ll be like your security guard, for this.” One hand gestured at the locker. “Better than Manny down there. Who is currently napping in one of the empty units.”
Phanuel turned off the light show. She’d made her point, and the vampire seemed… penitent. Fuck, she needed a drink.
She gave the request some thought. While she couldn’t just pop home and look them up in the Registry, the Angel could make inquiries. “Heaven’s a big place,” she offered. “It’ll take a little time.”
Why was Phanuel even entertaining this request? It would be easier to dispatch her visitor so he could see for himself. Thou shalt not kill. The commandment echoed in her brain. That’s why.
“Just,” she waved a hand in the air. A trickle of light sparked from her fingers. “Just, write down their names and dates of death. I’ll see what I can find out.” Phanuel squeezed Shakespeare’s finger so hard in the palm of her hand, it nearly cracked the bone.
Derek sucked in an unnecessary breath through his teeth and deflected eye contact with the angel. “Yeeeeaaaah. Um, they’re not in heaven. They’re in San Jose. Easy mistake to make though.” He decided to put a little more distance between them with a step backward.
“They don’t know I’m...this, see? They think I’m dead. And they put on a pretty good show, social media-wise. Or so I’ve been told, I don’t participate.” The vampire shrugged apologetically. “I just meant if you could see if they really miss me. But I’m starting to lose my buzz and I can see now how that’s…” Derek gestured inanely with his hands.
“Maybe I should let you get on with your angel stuff.”
“San Jose,” Phanuel clucked. If they were still alive, that’d be an easier task. One she surprised herself for considering. “Leave me their names, address.” She could always do an angel drive-by.
“And if you’re serious about watching over my storage locker, I suppose I could pay you a little.”
His eyes widened, and a smile broke over his face. “Really? Thank you. Wow.” He pulled out a pack of rolling papers and a ballpoint pen. Pressing one of the papers against the wall as a writing surface, Derek scrawled their names. He had to take a second to remember the address, it had been so long.
“You don’t have to pay me anything. I don’t really care about money.” The vampire was able to make do for himself with his job, and sometimes ‘borrowing’ a little cash from some unwitting meals. The vampire held out the piece of semi-translucent paper to the angel.
The Angel quickly read from the paper and tucked it away. “If anything goes missing,” she warned. Phanuel half-turned, ready to go back into the storage locker. “Now fuck off before I change my mind and smite your ass.”
First Hutchins, now this Mitchell person. For an extra-dimensional being who preferred her own company and only her own, Phanuel was in danger of being a social butterfly. Best nip that in the bud quickly, she thought.
“I’ll find you. When I have the time to look into this. Got a lot of… Heaven stuff to do.”
“Yeah, I get it. Keeps you busy. See you around, Phanuel.” He mispronounced it as ‘Fan-well’.
Derek gave her a short wave, turning around and continuing on his previous path down the road. Maybe he would visit Terrible’s after all, to see if Nesryn was working. He suddenly felt a little more optimistic than he had in a while.