[closed/complete] Characters: Uriel & War Date/Time: Pre-Zurvan, after Death's wedding. Location: Their kitchen in Iriy. Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Horsemen. Summary: Uriel and his new sister-in-law bond. With knives.
It didn't take a genius to figure out that there was a tension lingering in the house, hanging thick in the air like a dense fog. Someone could have choked on it, it was so heavy.
First had been the icy glares from Famine. They had be present for most of the week prior, but at the ceremony earlier, they had been particularly nasty. The younger man hadn't said a word, but his eyes were enough. And then there was War, who was like a landmine inside of a young woman's body, just waiting to go off with the wrong word.
Uriel wasn't terribly affected by their stares, but that didn't mean they didn't deter him slightly. Being so obviously unwelcomed didn't bring about many cheerful feelings. Nevertheless, he carried the weight of it all on his shoulders, figuring he'd deal. That a family would be angry with him for marrying a sister wasn't too hard to grasp. But the murderous glares were a little too much.
His journey to the kitchen to refill his glass of wine came without too much trouble. Famine had stepped out for a smoke, and his wife and her twin were nowhere to be found. With any luck, he wouldn't find War in the kitchen, but that was hoping for too much.
He had married into a family of crime, and he had married into a family of Horsemen, it couldn't end well. In fact, no one who married into this family would be welcome. War hadn't paid attention to Uriel beyond the barest polite requests, and even those hadn't been very good, she kept twitching and glaring and looking for the nearest object with a pointy end. There was a need in her to crawl along, and pounce unsuspectingly and stab him. Many, many times.
It was indeed hoping for too much as War was in the kitchen. There was something relaxed in her posture, despite the fact there was a wide variety of knives on the counter behind her. The woman tilted her head in Uriel's direction and as soon as she recognized him the glare was full on.
For her part, War was hoping it was Famine coming back but... nope, it was the newest addition to the family.
Had Uriel been a man who was easily affected by things, someone more in tune with his emotions, he might have tensed up at the sight of his new sister-in-law. Instead he was as calm as ever. After spotting her, not ignoring the fact that she was very close to a collection of knives, he approached the counter where he'd left the wine bottle.
War was something of an interesting person. She was, he knew, the sort who always did what she wanted without fear of consequence. From what he knew of her, wronging her meant pain. And as a man who could deal with pain, but didn't look forward to it, he felt that it was best to tread lightly with her.
He didn't smile at her, though he did meet her eyes. "War," was all he greeted her with.
War gave an annoyed sound and straightened, one hand lingering by the collection of knives, "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be fucking off somewhere else?" Ah, beautiful, beautiful language.
And where the hell was Famine or Death? Before War did something everyone would regret, her fingers touched the handle of the knife unconsciously, judging the weight, grip and strength required to throw it.
Had she met Uriel in other circumstances, he wouldn't have been the type to incite this urge to maim him for marrying her sister. In other circumstances... things would've been, not peaceful, but distantly polite.
Her harsh words didn't affect him in the slightest as he set to pouring himself another glass of wine. Appropriate that it was red wine -- fitting for someone like War, and maybe himself as well. It was fortunate for him that he hadn't been turned off from red wine after deciding it looked a little too much like blood. Wine was too good to give up.
"I have nowhere else to be right now." The cork was stuffed back into the bottle. "Why are you here?" he inquired in return.
The briefest hint of a smirk, and then War moved with ease, the knife in her hand, and the step back to balance her weight - the knife went out of her hand and slid so close to Uriel, so close. Luckily (or not, War had intentionally timed it right) it embedded itself in the wall behind the archangel.
Was that enough of an answer? War waited, trying to decipher his reaction (or lack of one).
Not even a flinch out of Uriel. The knife hadn't been expected, but it hadn't surprised him either. After all the glares, something violent, progressively speaking, should've gone down. Maybe they wouldn't take his life in their anger, but threaten it, surely. Without missing a beat, the angel faced that which had almost cut him and yanked it from the wall, placing the offending weapon on the counter next to the wine bottle.
"You missed," he pointed out to her without a shred of humor, sipping from his glass before setting it back down by the knife.
Oh well.
Maybe he wasn't completely useless then. "On fucking purpose." War replied, sulky tone evident. It wasn't like she wanted to miss, but then... other people who mattered like Death might be annoyed she destroyed their husband on their wedding day. There could be other destroying opportunities in future, Uriel wasn't going anywhere after all.
On the other hand, War was, not impressed, but pleased that he had taken it so calmly and without humor. Maybe Death had a point in marrying this doctor thing, not a very good one, but one.
On purpose, she said? Well, Uriel would believe her for now. He could read the murderous intent in her eyes, understanding that if she wanted to, she could hit her target dead on. But if War was a smart girl, and he was sure she was, she wouldn't go hurling knives at him anymore. Not if she valued her relationship with her sister.
He slid his fingers under the wine glass. "I won't try to be your best friend, War. It's not my place to. But if we can stay in a room together without you throwing a knife at my head..." And then he was turning on a heel back toward the entrance he'd come through earlier. "Then I'd like that."
Without another word or look, Uriel was gone, leaving his sister-in-law to her thoughts.
War wasn't sure she could keep herself from doing it again, even if Death asked- so perhaps the best course of action was to avoid her brother-in-law altogether. Unless Death was okay with objects being thrown at his person now and again.
She sighed, she was never going to get married (famous last words).