Azrael was sure he had mentioned the Rodeo Clown thing before, maybe when they first met and Tequila was trying to get Azrael involved in something called a body shot... However, the drug story that followed was enough to get raised eyebrows. That sounded pretty serious. Although in Azrael's time he had dealt with a number of odd and grizzly deaths, and saw Angels whose words came from strength, life and hope, keep those clinging to life going a bit longer.
"So if I see ya dancin' again... I don't have to worry right?" he asked. It was a joke. Sort of. Hopefully whatever was in Tequila's system was out for good.
He paused and went to the bar to top up their drinks before coming back over. "That's a heck of a question" he started, taking a drink from his glass. "I needed a new place to work. Some place where I didn't feel under threat" he said. "I was exiled until recently. Stood up for my brothers and sisters when they got to close to mankind. They started having kids with them. Whole thing was a mess..." he said, taking another drink. "We got pulled up, I stood with them and I went down with them... I spent years in exile. Thousands of years. Hiding, but still doing my job. I was more free to do my job without Heaven's restrictions, but anyone who followed me... They were in danger. I had enough of watching those who followed me die so I came here..." he put the glass down, now empty.
Lining up his next shot, he missed, cursing under his breath. His composure was less relaxed now. The weight of all those losses weighed heavily on him, and he would never forget the names and faces of all the Grigori who were slaughtered.