// - R e i s a n
[I have lived one thousand lies.]

Wafts of noxious smoke drifted along the deserted alleyway. Rats scurried out of sight as a lone tomcat, aged and battle scarred strolled along, searching for its next victim. But even the cat, regal as he was, backed away from the sight of a lone figure, hood drawn over his face, eyes glinting in the pallid moonlight. The figure snarled at the cat, causing it to dart away into the shadows, meal forgotten. A single doorway was at the end of the ally. Caked in years of grime and sludge, the small steps leading to the solid door looked as though they had not seen a person on them for many years. Snarling once again, the figure took in the irony. // Of course this is where Lucifer would be residing. At the back of a strip club. Lucky bastard // He thought with a snicker. The figure was none other than Reisan. Former leader of the Angels. The right hand of God. He was also the first to fall from grace. And fell he did, hardest and longest of his three brothers who were also Archangels. He bore the curse marks of the hardest fall. Worse even than those of Lucifer who was the first to fall. Clutching at his chest, over his heart, Reisan relived the feeling and pain of his fall. Even though it had happened thousands of years ago, he felt as though he had only just hit the ground. God ensured severe punishment to those who fell, in a hope it would provide those with similar ideals to those of the brothers what would happen to them. The fall had broken every bone in his body, the first stage of his curse was he had to endure the pain of healing. Lying in the ground for well over a thousand years, Reisan could feel as every bone clicked and shifted back into place. But he was strong and every pain he felt made him more determined to see the other Angels slain by his own blade. Feeling for the hilt of his sword, strapped to his back, a sense of calm drifted over Reisan. He sought pleasure in killing, always had. For many years he had proved a reliable assassin to kings and queens. A fearless commander in every known battle from those on horseback against the Vikings in England, to those in Germany in more recent years, using machine guns. Gently revealing a small section of blade, Reisan felt the quick sing of his blade resonate through him, singing a tune which only he knew. Everans was the name to which his blade responded. Long ago had he learned he commanded the element of fire. In combination with his heavenly sword, Reisan was able to call upon Finarc, the sword flame. He was unbeatable in battle when he used his elemental skills. Reaching a closed fist towards the door covered in colourful fungus he gave a hard knock. Looking at his boots which were slick with grime, he noticed the bottom of the door appeared to be rotting away. // One. Two. Three // thought Reisan in annoyance. He had heard no-one shift around behind the door. Anger ran through him, slowly at first, like someone pouring cold honey, then it turned into something more. The cold heat of fury lanced through him and his eyes flashed red. His fingers grew hot and small flames licked their way across his skin in a deathly dance. Taking a step backwards, Reisan lifted one boot clad foot and kicked the door inwards with a force that not only sent the door flying open, but caused it to fall completely off its groaning hinges and onto the floor. Inside, the small section of hall he could see was also covered in fungus, this time a black variety. “Lucifer. Keenan. Lucas. One of you had better fucking be in here. Or heads will fucking roll I swear. Everans has not seen blood for many years and she longs for it.” Reisan yelled into the seemingly empty building, rage evident in his voice. Eyes probing in the darkness for a sign of movement. Reisan was startled when somewhere a little deeper in the hall, someone started to clap. In his furious state Reisan growled and unsheathed Everans, ready to face whatever or whoever was coming towards him.

“Now, now Reisan. Is that any way to greet a friend?” A smooth dark voice curled towards Reisan from the black depths, followed by an evil laugh which can only be likened to the sound of nails on a chalk board. There was only one possible being in the entire universe which sounded like that.

“Come out where I can fucking see you Lucifer. Or heaven fucking help you Everans will see your head roll.” Snarling, Reisan adjusted his stance, lifting his sword higher in the cool night air, catching the reflection of the moon so Lucifer knew he was serious.

“Heaven help me? That’s a nice one. Now come inside before you catch your death old friend.” The voice turned into a strikingly handsome figure, dressed in an expensive black suit.

”Don’t flatter yourself Lucifer.” Reisan mustered every ounce of controlled rage and coldness into his voice. Stepping into the dank hall, Lucifer gestured him to follow. ”You had better have a fucking good reason for bringing me here Lucifer. I’m supposed to be killing some fat old bastard who stands in the way a Cuban drug lord as we speak.”
A cold laugh escaped the lips of Lucifer. The sound that chilled people to the bone and the melody that haunted mothers as they tucked their children in at night. ”You’ll see Reisan. I can make it worth your while. Just follow me and listen.”
The words touched Reisan’s ears with all the delicacy of someone pouring acid on him. Shaking off the feeling, he was aware that the heavy beat of techno pounded through him and vibrated the walls and floor. Ahead, there was a door. // Cast iron by the looks of it. But not too solid Everans can’t cut through. // Reisan thought with a scowl. The vibration of heavy bass only grew heavier as they dawned closer to the door. Extending a pale hand, Lucifer grasped the handle. A sprinkling of frost shot over the metal. Raising his head over his shoulder to peer at Reisan, Lucifer shouted over the music “Welcome to Eden brother.” And with that, the hinges of the door groaned and the two Fallen Angels were hit by the full power of the bass which the door had partially held back. The smell of sex, sweat, alcohol, smoke and latex was heavy in the air. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Reisan strode after Lucifer, swamped by a mass of moving bodies clad in scraps of material not fit enough to be called clothing. Women ground against men in actions they thought sexy, while men drank and lured women into rooms, obviously not for a chat. Letting loose the chain on his inner demon, women turned to gawk at the magnificent creatures that stalked past them. Partially naked whores danced in time to the music, grinding against poles or the walls of their cages. // Of fucking course Lucifer would be running a whorehouse. // Reisan thought to himself with a bitter tang coating his mouth. Weaving through the mass of bodies, Reisan strode over to where Lucifer sat. Beside him lounged a familiar figure, clothed in what appeared to be the latest fashion and the prettiest of the whores either sitting on his lap or giving him a massage.
“Keenan you son of a whore. Its been centuries brother!” Clasping his forearm in greeting, Reisan took the seat to the other side of Lucifer.
”Yes it has been Brother! Although, if my memory is correct, its been exactly 300 years since you saw me.” Called the rough voice of Keenan.
”Oh yes Brother. And I remember seeing you much the same as now. Drunk and covered in whores.” Scowling, Reisan felt uneasy. Why had Lucifer called his younger brother here too? And if Keenan was here. Where the fuck was Lucas? Turning towards Lucifer, Reisan called to him above the music, “Why the fuck have you brought me here Lucifer?” Reisan’s temper was just about ready to explode. If this was Lucifer’s idea of a joke, Reisan was far from laughing.
”Since when do I ever bring you places for no reason Reisan? I brought you here for a proposition.” Somehow, Lucifer found no reason to raise his voice above the pounding bass. It cut sharply through and whispered in Reisan’s ear.
”Speak up Lucifer. I have not time for your fucking games.” Snarling, Reisan gathered himself, ready to get the hell out of this place.
”What if I told you Reisan, I knew how to free you from your curse. And start the final war with God?” The Devil smiled, his lips curving in a way which portrayed a dark secret. One which only he knew. And for once, Reisan shut up and looked blankly at Lucifer.
”I swear Lucifer, if you’re fucking lying to me right now. By the end of the night there will be little left of your club. And for you of that matter. Now speak up before I let Everans have some fun.” Sliding smoothly back in his chair, Reisan met the black, soul-less eyes of Lucifer, awaiting with open ears what the Prince of Darkness would say next.

/ / ~ L u c a s . . .
( your heart is serpentine. )

The water shimmered under the rays of the afternoon sun, as if it held millions of diamonds captive.  The boy stepped out of the water, a pure white surfboard with a large orange stripe down the centre tucked neatly under his arm. Shaking his head from side to side to rid his hair of water droplets, he sighed contently as his feet meet soft, warm sand. A heart-winning smile brightened his face as he began to head up the beach and towards a club that was positioned beside it. Many girls stopped and lifted their sunglasses, peering at him through their thick lashes, marvelling at his chiselled body. One girl caught his eye, however. She lay upon a towel splayed over the sand, her brown hair cascading over her shoulders and spilling down beside her. Dark sunglasses concealed her eyes from his view, but she appeared to be deeply engrossed in a fashion magazine to notice his curious,  interested stares. The other girls offered him fabulous smiles laced with desire that screamed, “be mine?” Shaking his head in amusement, he carried on up the beach towards the club.Allowing his surfboard to lean against grimy walls, he strutted into the club, noticing immediately how girls hovered near poles, dancing on them. Guys flocked by, some tucking cash into the girls underwear, and others drawing them into other rooms. Women sauntered over and began to grind against him, a look of seduction haunting their pretty faces. Casually blowing them off, a look of slight disgust tortured his facial expressions as another whore began to dance over to him.
Summoning a small amount of his element, Earth, Lucas allowed a small area of the wooden floor to give in, filling with sand so the next woman who tried to get closer to him fell into the deep threshold. A diabolic snicker passed from his mouth, and he pushed open a door that contained three familiar faces. Lucifer, and his two brothers, Reisan and Keenan. “Ahh. Brothers, long time no see, eh?” the boy hollered, a suspicious grin curving at his lips. Why had he been called here? And why on Earth were his brothers here? “Lucifer.” Lucas nodded in acknowledgement, before shaking both of his brother's hands in a slightly chilled greeting. He was the eldest of the three of them, therefore; he made all of the decisions and gave orders when they were around. And, he was also the most powerful. But up against Lucifer, he was nothing. Settling down into his seat, the boy held a lazy expression as he eyed the three males. "Ahh, still have Everans, I see? Never would let go of that sword now would you? Not that you'd really need it, with that element of yours,” he teased, arching both eyebrows as his fingers rhythmically drummed against the arm of the chair. “As for you, Keenan, you seem to have gotten... smaller.” Lucas enjoyed down-sizing his littlest brother. It was a small amount of entertainment for a while, just seeing a small hint of rage on his face allowed the older boy to become satisfied with himself. Eyes altering their gaze from Keenan to Lucifer, the boy slumped his shoulders a bit.
“So, Lucifer. What's this big offer I've been hearing so much about from your message boys? I had a bit of fun with them, by the way. A couple of their lives were taken. Actually, all four of them were. You're rather insistent on getting the message across, eh? Four errands boys. I tied one of them to an anchor and pushed them into the sea. Now that was a thrill. Anywho,” he paused, examining the walls of the room briefly, “I'm here now. So what's the scoop?”

// - R e i s a n
[I have lived one thousand lies.]

The hair on the back of Reisan’s neck raised as a cold feeling passed through the room. Only one thing, or rather person, had that effect on him. An ominous voice projected from his right, “Hello brothers.” The voice brought memories. Ones he would rather forget. And scars he had to live with. Running a hand under his shirt, Reisan felt for the deep gouges where his black and silver wings had once resided. No-one bar fallens and other mythical creatures could see them. Shifting his onyx gaze to the form sauntering over to the group from his right. Reisan felt fire lick through him; onyx orbs gathered a heated rim, amber flame rippling in their depths as he looked at the form.
“Hello Lucas. And yes. I still have this fucking sword. And if you’re not careful she’ll see your fucking head roll. Do not forget, brother,” Reisan sneered at the only thing that related them, blood. “Everans is mine. She helped me win every battle I have fought in, even the ones with you. So fucking shut up before I gift her with the one blood she so desperately desires.” Mustering the coldest tone he could, Reisan felt an ashy texture coat his mouth. Clearing his throat, the texture dissolved as quickly as it had appeared. Meeting the firm grasp of his brother Reisan fluidly resumed his position, watching with a steel gaze as Lucas picked on Keenan. “Leave him be brother. And yes, Lucifer, state your reason for calling us together. You know what happens when we stay together for too long. I’m sure historians would love to find out the real reason for both world wars, among other wars over the past two thousand years.” To make his point, Reisan clicked his middle finger and thumb, causing a small flame to ignite and dance just above the tips.
“Ahh yes. The reason you ask.” A voice sinister, stroked their ears with all the delicacy of thick smoke. Taking a sip of his vodka, the ice clinked musically against the sides of the crystal glass, swirling in the clear liquid. All eyes turned to Lucifer, before becoming restless as he tested their patience by making them wait. “Reisan, keep your hand off what sword. Keenan, keep your hands off that bloody whores tits. Lucas, stop baiting your brother. I could have just as easily done this myself. But I am showing you respect by asking this of you, now listen to me.” Lucifer kept his tone even, and yet malice and power seeped out, spearing through the room. Unease danced along Reisan’s spine.
“Lucifer. This is not the place. State your business.” Reisan kept his voice low, calming the Dark Prince. Lucas glared at Reisan, he always thought himself the more powerful brother, the eldest and therefore the most superior. None of that was true. Sure, Lucas was older. But only by three years. God had gifted Reisan with powers his brothers knew nothing about, he was nearly as powerful as the being in front of him; who was the embodiment of darkness Flexing his wrists, the angel looked towards Lucifer expectantly, shifting his hand away from the jewelled hilt of Everans.
Swirling the remaining drops of watery vodka around in his glass, Lucifer looked at the three brothers in turn. “What if I told you I knew of a way to lift your curses.” The three brothers gawked at Lucifer. They had spent the past thousand years searching through every known scroll and biblical text written by everyone from prophets to ancient kings. Their searches had turned up nothing. The scrolls held no knowledge they had not already come across. But then again, Lucifer was the Devil. He had more connections than the brothers ever would have. Its amazing what people will do in exchange for their souls.
“Lucifer. There is no way. We’ve looked. For a fucking thousand years and yet we have found nothing!” Slamming his fist down on the small glass table before the group, shards glided into Reisan’s skin. Deep into his hand. Blood oozed thick and dark from the wounds, although his blood was still red, the poor lighting cast the liquid a disgusting grease black. Snarling at his hand, Reisan heard laughter from the other three men as he picked out the shards.
“Young Reisan, I am the Devil! Prince of Darkness! You think I have no way to get this information?” Eerie laughter cut through the night. “This information I chanced across also foretells of how to start the final war with heaven. How to win against the God who cast you out. If you side with me, I will call you brothers. You can lead the armies into battle against your so called ‘Father’. And in return, you will be set free from your curses.” A barely clad woman waltzed over to them with champagne flutes on a tray, balanced precariously at her shoulder. The top half of her was naked, large breasts bulged out, towards their sight. Pretty obvious they were implants. The only thing on her was a sparkly thong, which didn’t do a good job at concealing anything, and a large diamond pendant that hung from her neck on a simple black cord. The bubbling liquid was slightly blue, clearly laced with a heavy dash of Arcanzite. Reisan sneered. Of course Lucifer would do this. “I swear Lucifer, you had better hold yourself to this. Tell us what we need to do. No fucking lies.”
Grinning wickedly, Lucifer slipped come cash into the whores’ thong, giving her ass a small slap, before taking his flute. “It is an extremely old prophecy which requires the sacrifice of one of the Balance. One who represents both light and dark. She must be sacrificed on a Blessed Altar on cursed ground. I have not finished deciphering it yet. I will send message when I have. Until then, look out for girls with thorn tattoos from head to toe. They are unnatural tattoos. You’ll know when you find her.”
A dainty, tanned hand with manicured, fake nails handed him a flute. Lucas was in conversation with Lucifer, Keenan was one step away from fucking a whore, and Reisan, well. He just sat there. The world went by, babies were born, people died. And yet he never aged. He stood still. And watched as the world around him moved on.

// - K e e n a n
[Rip it out, Tear it down]

The whore in front of Keenan ran delicate hands over his body. Whispered praises and words to him. The world around him was one of her. Her large breasts, her small thong which barely covered her, disappearing between her rounded ass cheeks. The Arcanzite in his system swirled the world before his blue orbs, creating distorted shapes and psychedelic colours. His erection grew impossibly large. Thank God, Lucifer and his brothers were gone. The pain of his psychic powers needed release. And be that in the act of madly fucking the brains out of the pretty woman in front of him, so be it. Kissing her roughly, they fell back against the bed which stood at the centre of the room. God he hated this. Fucking hell. Why did God have to ‘gift’ him with this ability. What the fuck did it mean!? Tearing off his clothes, he bent the whore over the end of the bed and thrust into her. This. This was the only heaven left for him.
Keenan had long accepted the fact he would never go back to the real Heaven. The moans of the woman he was madly thrusting into broke through his thought. He had not realized she had climaxed, her orgasm rippling through him, causing him to ride her harder. The voices in his head stopped as he reached his own orgasm, releasing deep into the woman before him. His sperm would not cause her to fall pregnant, it only effected virgins, and this piece of quivering flesh beneath him was sure as hell no fucking virgin. Sliding out from the woman beneath him was a pleasure in itself. For him, there was no sensuality in this act. There was only a need.
After showering, and adorning some new clothes, black and designer, form fitting and new season. Keenan looked as though he had stepped off the cover of a magazine. The whore still lay naked on the bed, as he had left her. Reaching into his pocket he withdrew a few crisp, Hundred dollar bills throwing them on the bed beside her. Grabbing her knee, Keenan roused her from sleep. “Whats your name.” He asked in a compelling tone.
Mumbling with tiredness, and obvious soreness the name Dea slurred from her lips. Grasping her head, he locked eyes with her. Wiping her memories of the moments which took place a few minutes ago, Keenan replaced them with ones of another man.
Crisp, salt air teased at his nose, as Keenan stepped outside. The alleyway near the ocean seemed deserted. But something had his attention. Something was down there. The moon broke out from behind a choke of clouds, illuminating the dank passage. The silhouette of a woman projected into his view. She was doing something. To. To a man. Curiosity flashed through Keenan’s mind as he stalked towards her. Upon arriving where he thought he had seen a woman, the only thing Keenan found was a hobo, sleeping askew on the ground before him. Nudging the dirty man with his foot, the Hobo’s head rolled to a side. Two cuts deep into his neck about an inch apart came into his view. The man was dead And the cuts looked like… like fang marks.

/ / ~ S i e r r a . . . 
( this is how you remind me. )

Awakening on the beach, it looked as if she had been deserted. Yawning, the girl rolled onto her stomach, her hands toying with the sand for a moment whilst she contemplated whether she wanted to get up and go search for food or not. Food.
An all too familiar burning began to inflame down her throat, and she became aware of the feeling of someone drawing over her body. Flipping herself onto her back, abruptly, she sat up. The vine she had been cursed with, dotted in thorns and a few roses had begun it's daily ritual of etching over her skin. This happened every day when the sun went down. It was her curse. And along with that, there was the desire for blood. Hurling herself onto her feet, Sierra inhaled deeply, acknowledging her eyes folding shut for a deeper sense of concentration. The smell of spilled blood hit her like a tonne of ice, and within a second, she was at the site of an accident. Leaning against the brick wall lazily as she peered over at the middle aged man with a small pile of clothes beside him. He shivered uncontrollably and clutched his wrist. Crimson smudged over his hands, wrist and tattered clothing. Padding over to him, she cocked her head, smiling softly. The man looked at her, eyes widening to the size of watermelons, as if he'd just laid eyes on the most magnificent angel. No words were needed. She drew the filthy man in for a short kiss, before pulling back and looking him square in the eye. “Let me kiss it better for you,” Sierra whispered, as if talking to a young child, not a middle-aged man.
Still utterly speechless, his eyes followed her every movement as she lowered her lips to his wrist and gave it a gentle kiss, his blood transferring into her mouth. The taste of his blood ignited within her mouth and slightly soothed her burning throat. Quicker than a bolt of lightning, she tipped his head to the side, exposing his throbbing jugular. Leaning in, her lips, as gentle as the petals of a rose, skimmed his neck, feeling his blood beneath his skin pump against her lips. Withdrawing her upper lip, two brutally long fangs lengthened, and plunged deep into his vein. Warm liquid surged through her mouth, replenishing her famished stomach. Once the girl had sipped every drop of blood from his body, she let him drop onto the ground, completely lifeless. Calling on her element, water, she felt it pool within her cupped hands, splashing it over her face to rapidly tidy herself up. The sound of a door opening alerted her, and the girl sprinted over behind the wall, keeping herself concealed by the eerie shadows. A tall man stepped out from the door, looking high and pleased with himself. He noticed the body instantly and hobbled over, lolling the homeless man's head to the side to reveal the twin puncture wounds she had created. Already, she could feel the burning of a new thorn imprinting into her skin. Wincing, Sierra tried to block out the pain by focusing her attention on the curious man.
Seizing the opportunity to feed this from him, she stepped out from the shadows cast upon her, and tip-toed over to him. She wasn't fully satisfied from the other man, but she didn't need, or want to steal two lives in one night. All she'd have to do is feed from him and make him forget everything that'd happened between them. Then, she'd go along on her merry way, and the world would still be at peace. Standing within a meter from the boy, Sierra flashed him a sexy grin, stepping forward and cupping her hand around his face, one of her thumbs dancing over his bottom lip. “Hey, there handsome. Shouldn't you be in there with all the ladies? I'd assume you'd be popular with them, because damn, you're fine,” she murmured teasingly, one of her hands lowering to his neck where she lightly traced where his main vein would be. “You look pretty tasty, too. Hm... how about you say we take this somewhere else?” A little fun with him wouldn't hurt, would it?

/ / ~ L u c a s . . .
( your heart is serpentine. )

The bitter night air cut and whipped against his skin like the blade of a knife scraping against rusted iron. Lucifer hadn't seemed to let his facade down if it were a joke... but what was so special about this girl? The information on her was limited, but with the description The Dark Prince had provided them with, the girl would stand out among a crowd. Tattoos shaped in a vine with tiny thorns, from head to toe? It puzzled him to think someone would be as absurd as that as to have their whole body covered in permanent ink. At least it wouldn't be a challenge to find her. The local residents would know exactly where she went to to eat, relax and for leisure. With an appearance like that, it seemed impossible to get by without being noticed by many. 
Running a hand through his tawny hair, Lucas stretched and yawned as he gazed over the balcony at the smooth waters, shedding the tiniest of ripples among the surface. If he could find the girl before any of his brothers, that might allow him to gain a closer friendship with Lucifer. Although the chances were slim, his plan could work. Lumbering back into Eden, the nightclub full of women with little to no clothing on, he whisked a goblet that balanced carefully on a metal tray. The goblet looked as if it were an artificial antique. Whirling the liquid around in the goblet for a moment, the boy raised it to his face and inhaled it's rich, sugary scent. Under the weak lighting, the drink contained hints of blue. There were definitely traces of Arcanzite within it. Deciding a little of the drug wouldn't do any major damage, Lucas chugged it down, hurling it across the floor as a young girl approached him. She looked like she was in her early 20's, and would provide him some entertainment for more than a while. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers interlocking with a few tufts of hair. Her heaving body pressed against his, aiming to place her boobs almost below his nose. She wore nothing of proper clothing, only lacy lingerie.
Greedy hands slithered down to rest over her ass, his head tilting to the side as he began to shower her in kisses. From her neck, to her collar bone... and soon, he had dropped his mouth low enough to lightly and seductively kiss and suck on her breasts. The girl moaned, dropping her head back as she welcomed the pleasure. Soon mapping his waist with her legs, she curled them around him once feeling his erection poke at her hips. The angel boy's hands positioned themselves at the centre of her back to support her weight when she slumped earthwards. Unexpectedly, it felt as if someone had delivered him a gruesome punch in the gut. His element licked at his fingertips. Thick, darkened roots blossomed from the floor and reached upwards to cradle the young woman, so he could leave without dropping her onto the floor. What was this feeling all about? It must've been some side effects from the Arcanzite, but whatever it was, it was demanding, almost as if it were burning a hole through his soul. Striding over to one of the exits, a vigorous impact with the door, created by him, sent it swinging forwards, squeaking and groaning as it did so. Keenan appeared to be experimenting with seducing some girl. Blindly stumbling forward, Lucas gripped a pole to steady himself. Monitoring the scene, he noticed a dead man sprawled out across the blood-stained concrete. Meanwhile, this girl he was seducing was an interesting character. She wore only a bikini, as if she had just come back from a swim at the beach down below. And, she had tinges of red across her chest and stomach. Another eye-catching thing he noticed was a trail of tattoos snaking over her flesh. It was almost as if it were a vine, covered in thorns and very few roses... a vine?! What on Earth was Keenan doing with her? Was she their key to lifting the curse? Launching himself forwards, the fallen angel shoved Keenan to the ground, “Keenan! Get the fuck off of her!” he screeched, holding eye contact with the younger boy before inclining his head towards her, mouthing 'Tattoos! I'll get Reisan.' Hoping his brother understood the communication, Lucas dashed inside the nightclub, fishing around for Reisan. Bursting into the room they'd only been in five minutes ago, his eyes grew wide. “Reisan. Keenan has found the girl. She's outside, take her down to the gym. Keep him from trying to do anything stupid with her. I'll get some drugs to knock her out for a while. Go!”

// - K e e n a n
[Rip it out, Tear it down]

The girl in front of him danced over, purring in a voice of silk from between her soft rose lips. Keenan still felt edgy after having sex with the whore, Arcanzite still racing through his system. The voices hadn’t yet broken through the high of the drug, but they ran their fingers along his skin, probing him, begging him to listen. Snarling, he turned his attention back to the girl. Holy shit she was pretty. And dressed in nothing more than a few scraps of clothing, hair spilling over her shoulders; hips swaying gently as she moved. Keenan knew he had to bed this woman, whether it be in this alley, pressing her up against the wall, or back in his bed. Delicate hands framed his face, brushing over his lower lip. The girls hands gently traced down his neck, shuddering in anticipation, Keenan allowed his own hands to roam over her back, gently brushing the sides of her breasts as he moved.

Groaning with need, the feeling of her skin beneath his hands was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Leaning in to brush his lips against her mouth, trailing them along her jaw and down her neck in soft, teasing kisses. The girl arched into him, smiling with greed, Keenan called upon his element of wind, to gently blow the strands of hair from her face. Hands circling her waist, the boy went to hoist her off the ground, to lean her back against the wall, fingers brushing hungrily along the insides of her thighs.
The emergence door he had just come from burst open with force, bursting outwards, hinges screaming in protest. Lucas stormed out angrily, obviously high off Arcanzite and edgy. Snarling, Keenan loathed Lucas with a cold malicious hatred. Keenan was the youngest, and therefore the one who got the blame for everything. Reisan was ok, at least, but Lucas? Growling, Keenan allowed the girl to gently drop from his grasp, hands retracting from her flesh to ball into fists at his sides. “What the fuck do you want Lucas!?” Words growling towards the startled form before him.
All of a sudden, Lucas was yelling at him. “Get the fuck off her Keenan!” Before mouthing, “Girl! Tattoos!! I’ll get Reisan!” Confusion darted across Keenan’s face. What the hell did Lucas mean? Turning around to face the girl once more, he looked up and down her body. Inky shapes covered her from head to toe, swirling over her curves in intricate patterns. Silver light speared over them, as the full moon above broke through the clouds. Illuminating the flesh of the girl in front of him, revealing her tattoos for what they really were. It was her. The one who could free him from his curse, the one who could bring an end to the voices who threatened to destroy him, and all he had left.
Laughter bubbled dark and malicious from his throat. The irony that such a dainty figure held the key to his salvation. Grabbing her wrist, Keenan yanked her towards him, hands hastily mapping her body, brushing over her breasts with a lack of tenderness. Crushing his mouth to hers, a coppery taste met his tongue as he tangled it with hers. This bitch would pay. When he was done with her, she would be on her knees, begging Lucifer to end her life.

// - R e i s a n
[I have lived one thousand lies.]

Blundering his way through the mass of dancing bodies, Reisan casually made his way back to the small VIP platform where he and his brothers had just spoken to Lucifer. Growling as a whore ran her hands over his body, the boy turned to her, fire licking dangerously just below his skin and smouldering in his eyes with a dangerous glow. Any mortal with half a brain would have felt the urge to flee, to get away from him, but the girl before him was drunk, pissed off her face, and high. The disgusting scent of weed laced her body, breath reeking of alcohol, most probably vodka.
“Get your fucking hands off me, whore.” Reisan projected his voice towards her, adding all the hate and anger he could to the sound. Blinking up at him, she jumped away, reacting as though she had been zapped. A sadistic smile creased his lips as he smirked at her, before resuming his attempt to get to the lounge. Whisking a glass of vodka from the tray of the same topless waiter as before, Reisan lifted the glass to his lips, taking a mouthful.
The clear liquid slid down his throat with a familiar burn, igniting his stomach with heat. Placing the glass on the small glass table before him, Reisan realized the one he smashed his fist through earlier had been replaced. Flexing the hand which had been injured, Reisan felt no pain. Glancing down at it, jagged scars replaced the open cuts from before, the brothers all healed with an unnatural quickness. But Reisan was the only one who retained his scars, the only others which adorned his bothers bodies were the deep gouges on their backs from where their wings were ripped out, and from where they had been cut by holy blades.
Brushing the remaining flakes of dried blood from his skin, the boy looked up as his older brother yelled his name. Throwing his gaze from his hand to the face of his brother, Lucas shouted at him, “Reisan. Keenan has found the girl. She's outside; take her down to the gym. Keep him from trying to do anything stupid with her. I'll get some drugs to knock her out for a while. Go!”
Confusion, shock and a few other unknown feelings registered at the words. “You had better not be fucking with me Lucas!” Launching out of his chair, Reisan grabbed the glass of vodka. Condensation perspiring to form watery droplets on the outside of the glass, coating his hand with a soothing coolness. Quickly downing the remainder of the clear liquid, Reisan leapt from the VIP platform to land softly on the balls of his feet. One of his hands drifted to the hilt of Everans, the holy sword warmed in his grasp, urging him to unsheathe her, urging him to spill blood on her gleaming surface.
Reisan snarled warning to people, urging them to move out of the way, those who did not listen to him were thrown aside. Racing through the door Lucas had come from, Reisan unsheathed Everans, preparing to be met with battle. The blade balanced elegantly within his grasp, glinting wickedly in the silver moonlight. Onyx eyes detected the locked forms of Keenan and the girl. Growling, Reisan strode over to the pair, grabbing his younger brother by the shoulder, hurtling him away from the girl before he got his pants down.
“Fucking hell Keenan! Do you have to fuck everything with tits that walks!?” Reisan had no real problem with his younger brother. He liked him a hell of a lot more than Lucas. Over the past thousands of years, Reisan could always count on Keenan’s blade in battle. They had fought side-by-side in nearly every war, unstoppable when their two elements were combined. Reisan felt the fire element within him. Extending his hand, palm towards the ground, he earthed out, draining the overload of fire, watching it melt a small portion of the asphalt near his feet.
Shards of amber and shades of red flecked in his eyes, a gold rim formed around his pupil, screaming a signal to those around him to watch out or they’d get burnt. Reisan felt feral. Being so close to his brothers for an extended period of time always did this. His orbs flickered to that of the small female form, leaning back against the filthy wall. Striding towards her, Reisan extended his hand to lock around her wrist. “You’re coming with me, Cursed One.” Snarling the words towards her, the boy couldn’t help but feel the fragility of her wrist, the delicate feminie skin, tanned and flecked with a spattering of freckles. It would be so easy to snap her wrist, to kill her in that moment, but she meant too much, she was the key to their curse.
Not waiting nor caring for her protests, Reisan dragged her behind him, fury radiating out of his pores. Keenan slunk off into the shadows, probably in search of another woman to drown his pity in. Leading her through the labyrinth of corridors and doors, the boy led her into the gym beneath the club. They were deep underground now, the only sources of light radiated from the bright artificial lights, attached to the ceiling. Gym equipment of various uses stood in different parts of the room. Grabbing a conveniently placed coil of chains, Reisan towed the girl behind him, leading her onto the large padded floor space the brothers used to practice fighting on. Reisan sneered at his reflection in the floor to ceiling, wall length mirror which adorned the north facing wall. It was designed to allow those using the area to see themselves, how their position was, to correct it. Although, Reisan already knew he needed no correction in any element of fighting.
The adjoining west facing wall was lined with a collection of weapons, all standing ready to be used. Over the thousands of years, the brothers had quite a collection of weapons; they had everything from executioners’ axes to small ninja blades. A decent sized support column stood at the start of the large platform. Looking over his shoulder at the girl, Reisan noticed that all she wore was a skimpy bikini. Sighing, he unbuckled Everans, before he drew off his shirt, handing it to her. It would be large on her; his muscular frame filled the shirt, making it emphasize the shape and definition of his muscles; but for the moment it would do.
Rolling his shoulders, Reisan hoped she could see his scars, hoped she squirmed. A series of large scars adorned his back, but the two angled diagonally inwards, running from his kidney to his shoulder blade were the constant reminders of what he had lost. Turning to face the girl, he noticed she still held his shirt in her hands. “Put it on, before you catch your death.” Chuckling to himself, Reisan replayed his words, she was going to die. And he would make sure of it.
The boy waited until she had put on his shirt, as he predicted, it hung loosely over her frame, falling to mid-thigh, the sleeves, which he usually wore rolled up, hung past her fingertips. Walking around behind her, Reisan grabbed both her wrists, cuffing them together with a medieval set of handcuffs he found amongst a pile of discarded weapons. Tightening them as much as he could around her slim wrists, making sure she could not slip free. The heavy iron, although aged, was still as strong as the day it had been made, holy runes etched into the sides made it useful to hold demons and mythical creatures of any sort.
Once the boy had made sure she could not escape the cuffs, he chained her to the support column. Hatred glared towards him from the depths of her smoky violet orbs. Turning his back on her, Reisan bent to pick up Everans, unsheathing her before leaning the sheath against the mirror. Breathing deeply, he concentrated. Calling on his inner peace, Reisan felt the familiar heat of fire lick through him, blazing in his orbs, now completely red, flames dancing in his iris. Fire licked its way along Everans’ blade, singing in delight as he whirled around, practicing his sword work, cutting down hoards of invisible enemies.
After about an hour or so, Reisan felt he had expelled enough of his element to keep from overloading. Sweat filmed his body, glinting in the soft light created by the flames still dancing along his blades edge. Murmuring his thanks, Reisan reached for the sheath he leaned against the mirror earlier. The soft leather, familiar and worn with centuries of age accepted Everans with pleasure. A sharp sting resounded through Reisan’s hand, making him curse. A large line of blood soon formed across his palm. “Fucking shit. Everans don’t be a bitch.”
Snarling at the weapon, Reisan heard chains rattle. Whirling around, the boy watched as the girl he had just chained to the column, strained against it. When her orbs drifted up to lock with his, Reisan noticed her canines had elongated into fangs. He couldn’t help but laugh when she snapped at him, proving that she was vampire. Holding her gaze, Reisan squeezed his palm, allowing crimson drops to spatter heavily against the blue mat beneath his feet. Holy blades always took longer to heal, so Reisan would have to put up with the pain.
Striding towards the girl, Reisan lowered his voice, allowing fire to dance in his orbs, “Those little teeth don’t scare the big bad wolf, gorgeous.” Allowing himself to take her in, the boy finally realized something. //Damn she was pretty//. The swirling of her intricate thorn and rose tattoo amazed him. It seemed too beautful, too unnatural to have been penned. So how did she get it? Eyes trailing up her body, following her tattoo, Reisan's eyes came to rest on the ink at her breast. Lips curving in a seductive smile, Reisan had never met a vampire this young before.

/ / ~ S i e r r a . . . 
( this is how you remind me. )

Heavy iron was clamped around her wrists, and she found herself locked against a support column. Abnormal, vampire strength beckoned to be unleashed, and followed by an enormously loud 'thunk', she threw herself away from the pole in high hopes of breaking free. The only thing she earned, was an uncomfortable pain searing through her left shoulder blade. The impact of springing back against the pole had completely crushed her shoulder blade, but within minutes it would be as good as new. Her vampire abilities also included being able to heal quicker than humans. Forehead creasing with frustration, Sierra groaned, glancing down at the light material concealing most of her body. She wanted it off, now. The idea of wearing an enemy's clothing, whether it covered her bikini or not, disgusted her. It hung off her and appeared to be more than a few sizes too big. His tangy scent washed over her, filling her nose which helped settle her frayed nerves the slightest bit. Thoughts of trying to seduce him in attempt to set herself free flooded through her mind. Once she was free of these hand cuffs, even he wouldn't be able to stop her whilst she ran. Violet orbs climbed upwards to rest on the boy who had bound her hands with cuffs and chained her to a pole. Shocking scars of silver stretched along his back, catching her eye and a blast of realization soon hit her. He was a fallen angel. But what was the purpose of her being here? Sensing his motive of angling his back towards her was to make her squirm in abhorrence or horror, the girl tipped her head to the side as her eyes examined his scars briefly, taking in the defined muscles rippling along his back as he engaged in swordplay. “I've seen worse,” she commented, sighing heavily as the digging of the handcuffs into her wrists alerted her. “So, what exactly is it you need from me?”
Heat loitered in the air, the release of his powerful element overwhelming her own, forcing her to shift about uncomfortably. Water and fire weren't the best blend. But, it was manageable. A thought struck her curiosity, her eyes scarcely narrowing. The vulgar language that projected from his mouth, she deeply loathed with a passion. “You called me Cursed One, before. What was the meaning behind that, anyway? What do you know about me? And why don't you just get it over with and kill me already if that's what you're planning on doing? I don't find enjoyment in watching you exercise,” the girl mentioned bitterly. Water soothed her emotions and calmed her for a short moment, for she could feel her temper beginning to rise. Eyes gradually falling shut to cloak her violet orbs, Sierra welcomed the calmness attached with her element, as well as the cool breeze, laced with his own fire.An unforgettable, desirable scent wafted through her nostrils, tearing her from her trance. In a flash, the vampire was upon her feet, jerking against the handcuffs that strained against her wrists, biting into her flesh and dotting her creamy skin with blood. The pounding of his own beating heart filled her ears, and above that she heard the faint gurgle of his laughter at her struggles. She could see the blood, drizzling from his hand and onto the royal blue mat below his feet. It was almost if he enjoyed seeing her this way – the true monster she really was. Fangs amplified, transforming her calm nature to a ferocious, savage one. She needed to have his blood rushing into her mouth now. Once the dripping of his own blood halted, the girl held herself back as he advanced towards her. Vibes passed through her, giving her the feeling he was in desperate need of mocking her. 
“Those little teeth don't scare the big bad wolf, gorgeous.” His voice hummed through her ears, along with the strong beats of his heart. Giving her teeth the freedom of shrinking back to their original size, she delivered him a heart-winning smile and gave him a measured look. “Well, does this 'big bad wolf' have a name, boy?” she inquired, arching both her eyebrows. Following his eyes as they chased the visible tattoos up her body, finally coming to rest above her breast. Taking note of the seductive smile painting across his lips, the vampire girl leaned forward slightly, exposing the rest of the vine that curved around to her back. “Interested in my tattoos, huh? Well, if you take this shirt off me, you can have a better look...” Sierra offered, hoping he would take up her offer and discharge her from the baggy fabric. And if he did, it would grant her a better opportunity to seduce him. After all, they were below a nightclub packed with whores. What other reason was he here other than to have some fun with them? Luminous eyes scanned the male's body before her in return. His chest, much alike his back, was scattered with scars and was very well-muscled. His scars showed strength, blended along with that bad ass attitude. The scars made him just that much more sexy. 
Wait. Sexy? Why was she thinking like that? He was some strange guy who had decided to tie her up and was probably planning on raping, or killing her. Probably both. Inching back a bit, Sierra's eyes explored the gym they were stored in. This was definitely not her cup of tea. There were weapons everywhere. And there was nothing more than she hated than fighting. The possibility of him ripping her clothes of and raping her right then and there secretly frightened her. She was still a virgin, and he definitely wouldn't respect her wishes if he chose to. He wouldn't be careful with her, or do slow. He'd just be the man he was and enjoy the fear and agony dancing across her face. Standing her ground, the girl's eyes locked with his as he towered over her, almighty and looking capable of anything. And right now, Sierra was scared.

// - R e i s a n
[I have lived one thousand lies.]

Reisan peered at the girl before him intently, obsidian eyes glowing faintly as embers smouldered in the depths. She intrigued him, not only had he studied her form, but she had returned the gesture, pointing out his scars, saying she had seen worse. He doubted that. She may have seen worse physical scars, but the ones which lay tucked away from view were so horrific it seemed impossible he could go on. They were more gruesome than anything his eyes, hardened by years of death and blood of the innocent souls he had slain, had ever seen.
Running a hand through the strands of his golden hair, Reisan sighed, emotions racing through him, causing havoc and confusion to race through his mind. “The shirt stays.” Keeping his voice low, Reisan held her gaze; the boy knew she was trying to seduce him, trying to make him release her. Glancing down at his belt, Reisan considered using one of his poisoned knives on her. He had three that would send her into slumber. The first, a short knockout of one minute, one for an hour, and one that would lock her permanently in sleeps grasp, a death sleep.
Her questions rolled through his mind. How much could he reveal to her without scaring her to death? Reisan felt edgy, it had been hundreds of years since he had found a woman which appealed to him. And the last one had ended up nothing more than charred remains. Memories of the night burned through him, of himself sitting at a desk, drawing the sunset, her laughter breaking through his focus. The look her brown orbs had held as she approached him as though she was walking towards a wild animal. The feeling of her hand in his as she led him through the inn, to his room. Of how innocent she had looked as her soft lips trailed from his collarbone to meet his own. Pain had rippled through him, softly at first, lapped at his feel like gentle waves, but growing in strength until they became massive white-capped waves of fire, completely beyond his control. Her screams as she burned before him, and the last thing he remembered before she dropped to the floor, was the look of horror in her eyes. He was a monster.
Reisan snapped back to reality at the impatient clearing of a throat before him. Tremors danced up and down his body, contracting muscles as memories of that agony tore through him. He had taken an innocent life, one which had only sought to bring him pleasure. Sweat formed all over his skin, creating a sheen in the glaring fluorescent light. Taking a shaky breath, the boy had never experienced anything like that in his life. Waves of sadness, anger and utter disgust within himself coursed through his veins. Never could he let his guard slip, never could he allow himself to form a relationship to anyone. Or anything.
Lowering himself to sit cross legged on the floor, Reisan gathered his thoughts. Eyes focused on the streaks of red nearest him, of his own life’s blood spilt on the ground. Nothing made sense to him. This girl before him had this strange pull on his heart. Anything that was unknown to Reisan worried him, made him back away and plan again. The allure of her gentle sing-song voice caressed his ears in gentle waves. “No. I will not be killing you. It is my job to keep you from harm until I am told what to next. And yes. Cursed one. You are of light and dark, constantly dragged between both. Cursed.” Looking up into her smoky violet orbs, Reisan noticed her fear.
Sighing softly, the boy knew how she must see him. As a creature of darkness, one without feeling, no care for her personal boundaries. “Do not picture me as the bad guy. You have no idea of how I have suffered. Do not associate me with the murders and rapists of this world. I am nothing like them.” Flinging words at her, Reisan allowed hate and anger to lace his voice, turning his words to daggers. Shaking his head and closing his eyes, Reisan knew he had to control himself before the fire overtook him completely, and God knows that would happen if he were to lose control with her around.
Slowly, cautiously, Reisan opened his eyes. Flames had ignited, dancing along his flesh without his knowledge. Breathing in and out, calming himself, Reisan watched as the flames withdrew back under his skin, settling just underneath, ready to spring forth at his command. He didn’t know how to handle females. Sure, in all his years on earth, he had indulged sexually. But he had never been able to go the full way. His element always took the life of every female he had gone beyond pleasuring orally.
Obsidian orbs focusing once more on the streaks of dried blood, it suddenly made him realize, she was vampire. Vampires needed blood. A shudder past through him. It was rumoured that being fed on by a vampire was erotic. But Reisan couldn’t just waltz out onto the street to pluck a random stranger for her to feed off. She would surely kill the person; she looked hungry enough to do so. Steeling his nerves, Reisan realized that he must do it, he was immortal, ancient blood flowed through his veins, blood as powerful of that which coursed in the veins of Lucifer himself.
“You look hungry.” Reisan began slowly, making her aware of just what he offered. “If you wish it, you have my permission to drink at my vein. I am immortal, you cannot kill me. In saying this, you cannot control nor compel me in any way either.” Raising his gaze to lock with that of hers. It had only just occurred to the boy that neither knew the others name. “My name. Is Reisan. I am a fallen angel, the longest and hardest to fall of any since the Dark Prince himself. What is your name?” The thought of him offering his vein to this cursed girl was ludicrous, utter foolishness. But Reisan couldn’t help himself. A small smile curved his mouth. “Oh and one more thing, I have cast runes on the doorways. No-one but me can pass through, unless I disable them. So banish your thoughts of running away, looks like you’re stuck with me for a while.”
A small voice managed to break through his thoughts.”Sierra.” The name was beautiful, it suited her.
“Sierra.” Repeating the name aloud, Reisan allowed his tongue to caress the word. “It is a beautiful name. Your parents named you well. I see strength in you, and innocence.” Reisan highly doubted that she had lost her virginity; she seemed too pure, too innocent. If he was entirely true with himself, Reisan was yet to lose his own. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had the chance to. But the volatile nature of his element had destroyed nearly all hope of having full sex.
Seductive flames danced within his eyes, never before had he toyed with another in this manner. His formal, ancient way seemed lost in this modern world, but never would he change. Casting eyes over his naked torso, Reisan traced along one of the major scars adorning his front. The large scar glared at him, raised and angry. These scars reflected who he was, the pain of what he had become. Drifting his eyelids down to conceal his orbs, Reisan allowed himself to look into his past, of a time when large, graceful wings sprouted from his back.
He had been beautiful once. Well, in the ways of beauty portrayed by ancient artists who managed to capture the portraits of kings and queens. Today, beauty was defined by how sexually attractive or desirable you were. Women found him irresistible, but that view was strictly held by others, never by himself. Reisan was brutality, anger, hatred and agony. Never would he be anything else.
Sighing softly, he knew that it hadn’t always been that way. There was a time, centuries ago when he had smiled and laughed freely, he was of pure spirit. Images of his wings raced behind his eyes. Large, coal black wings with accents of gold and silver. Memories of how they felt wrapped around his form, insulating him from the cold and the heat traced along his skin. Red hazed his vision. Throat constricting as the fallen remembered the agony of Raziel and Gabriel ripping them out, the sight of his wings, bloody and broken, never more to gift him with flight, had broken him. That night, over two thousand years ago, had broken the last tie which held him tethered to all that was good and cast him out into the world of darkness, the only illumination in the dark world he faced, was his own flame as it burned him from the inside out.

/ / ~ S i e r r a . . .
( this is how you remind me. )

Sierra could see gentle tremors enveloping him, and this confused her. What was going on? By the look in his eyes, he seemed a thousand miles away, lost in his own trail of memories. And in an instant, whatever she had seen, vanished. Blinking quickly to rid herself of confusion, her eyes followed his every movement as he lowered himself onto the floor, neatly crossing his legs. His eyes stared up at her, but this time, there were no traces of malevolence. Words gurgled from his mouth, explaining what he had meant by 'cursed one', making her aware of his role in this and informing her the shirt was going to stay on. So, she was both light and dark – cursed. Weren't there others like her? There had to be. She couldn't have been the only one... could she?
 If her kind were scarce, why was this the only time she'd ever been bothered by another being? Surely, he had to know what was going on. This guy appeared to be in some group, and it sounded as if he weren't the leader. His voice tumbled through her mind, her eyes snapping shut as she processed them. Cold flushes splashed against the walls of her stomach, causing her to feel a little drowsy. The thought of blood tickled at her thoughts, teasing her. Clenching her jaw, the girl fought back the fangs that were aching to expand from her sore gums. The chains that were connected to the handcuffs that restricted her, rattled as she slid down the support column, trying to hide from the light. The homeless man she had fed off not long ago, hadn't provided her with much, and the after taste was bitter, as if he had been taking medication or drugs. Frowning deeply, her eyes reopened, only to be confronted by the harsh light. Feeding on his blood had not been the best idea. Only God knows what he'd been consuming. She should've found someone who took care of themselves a lot better. Now she was suffering the consequences from being lazy.
His offer made her freeze. Why would this guy offer such a thing? Even if he was immortal, the loss of great amounts of blood would effect him a lot more than he thought it would. His heart was still beating, therefore, he needed blood. And now he was acting like it wasn't a big deal at all. The sensible thing to do would be hunting down a human, and offering them to her. But, blood was blood. It didn't bother her whether she fed from him or not. It would only make her stronger, and him weaker. “First, I'd like you to release me. If you have runes protecting the doors, then it shouldn't be a big deal whether I'm chained up or not. I can't go anywhere, anyway.” Sierra told him, surveying his expression carefully. She could tell he was contemplating whether it was a good idea or not, and surprisingly, he pushed himself to his feet and ambled around to the lock. The jingling of keys sang, and within a couple of seconds, she was free. Grinning gratefully, Sierra rubbed at her sore, pink-tinted wrists. The shoulder blade she had previously crushed in attempts to discharge herself, had fully healed. “Thank you,” the girl murmured, continuing to rub at her numb, irritated wrists. Bringing herself to her feet, Sierra looked at the boy squarely, taking in his height once again. He loomed over her, making her feel smaller than she really was. 
Now for the feeding. Smiling brightly, she took his hand as she listened to him compliment her name and lead him over to a soft mat that could've been used to practice yoga on. “Lie down, I don't need you passing out on me,” she said, observing his movements as he lowered himself to lay flat on his back. “Good.” 
Sierra dropped herself onto all fours, hovering over him. Standing up and feeding wasn't an option. For one, she probably wouldn't be able to reach his neck because of their severe height differences. And two, she wasn't keen on having him pass out after having his blood withdrawn.
The space between them was limited, they were so close they were almost touching. The girl could feel the heat radiating from him, and with the cool chill outside, she welcomed it. Allowing her teeth to stretch to their full length, a sigh emitted from her mouth. It always felt amazing to withdraw her fangs after keeping them in hiding for a while. “This will only hurt a tiny bit,” Sierra promised, her lips brushing against the warm skin on his neck as she spoke. Lips caressing Reisan's neck where her future bite would be, the girl moaned as the feeling of his pulse hit her. And in one swift movement, her fangs were buried deep in his neck.
Rich, thick blood whisked into her mouth, and immediately, Sierra knew the pleasure he'd be drowning in. She could taste the power he obtained, blended in with his own fiery element, that warmed his blood to a degree she'd never tasted. It was like warm honey pooling into her mouth, rolling down her throat with a delicious burning sensation. Was this what it was like drinking from another immortal? Usually, she only drank from humans and occasionally, animals. But this experience, drinking from a supernatural being, was a first. Sierra could hear him groaning underneath her, overpowered by the pleasure coursing through him, followed by a series of shudders. She'd heard from other vampires, that a bite was even better than sex. The time to stop drinking from him was nearing, but the girl wasn't sure if she had enough self control to stop. The thought of draining him sent ribbons of horror cycling through her at a distracting speed. Withdrawing her alarmingly long teeth from his neck, she wiped the blood from her mouth using the back of her hand. Sitting herself upon his hips, her piercing eyes focussed onto him.
Peeling off his shirt that he'd given to her, Sierra wrapped his fingers around it and pressed it firmly against the twin holes, fresh blood still oozing out. “I think you're going to need that shirt a lot more than I am,” she informed, squeezing his arm gently, “Thank you.”Rising into her feet, the vampire couldn't help but feel warm and secure. His blood had tasted brilliant, so much better than any human she'd bitten. Sauntering over to the small bar fridge that stood in the corner of the room, her eyes monitored the interior, and she finally decided on a cordial. Hastily snatching it up, Sierra swung around and faced the entrance, smothered with runes – apparently. There was a boy standing there with a bottle in his hand, murky liquid inside, looking agape. His jaw dropped at the sight of her, and the girl wasn't sure what he was looking at – at first. “Reisan...” the boy's voice growled, “what the fuck is she doing out of the handcuffs?!”The fact that he was pissed off amused her to some extent, and a girlish smirk plastered across her lips. The boy sprung forwards, and as if someone were standing in the doorway, he was repelled. He gawked at her, as the contents of the bottle pooled around him. The runes, Sierra thought immediately. So they were real...Continuing her journey towards Reisan, who lay sprawled across the mat, Sierra crouched low and unscrewed the lid, blocking out the other guy's voice. “Drink up,” she ordered, pressing the bottle to his lips and hoping he'd swallow. After the quantity of blood taken, the girl thought a bit of sugar wouldn't hurt. Questions of why she was taking care of the guy who held her captive were thrown at her in all directions. The answer – she didn't know. But, she did know she owed him something after being brave and offering to feed her – which she had accepted, more than willingly. Suddenly notified she was only wearing her bikini, and not his shirt anymore, a pale blush crept up to her cheeks. Sierra pulled the material away from the wound and inspected it. The bleeding had come to a lethargic trickle. Leaning over him, she bent down again, her mouth at his neck – but this time she wasn't taking a bite. Her tongue touched the identical holes, and it took all of her will-power not to bite him again. The saliva from her tongue danced over the wound, and miraculously began to close up after a short portion of time. Retreating, the girl looked over at his neck, genuinely pleased with her work. “There we go,” she whispered, delivering him a heart winning smile. “Now, there's a guy at the door. He can't get in, but he was holding a glass of something that didn't look too inviting. I want the truth. What are you planning on doing to me?”

// - R e i s a n
[I have lived one thousand lies.]

Emotions flittered through Reisan. She had accepted his offer of allowing her his blood. Worry creased his brow, why was he being so god damn nice to her!? She held the key to his ultimate salvation, the key to the revenge his immortal soul had longed for ever since he saw his wings laying broken and mutilated in the dirt before him. That day, a part of Reisan had died. The light had gone out of his soul and was to be replaced by a strangling darkness which threatened to choke what little good was left. Sighing, he took notice of Sierra’s words, allowing himself to close his eyes to the beautiful melody that was her voice. The cuffs lay constricted around her slim, tanned wrists. The runes had done their job well, holding against her abnormal strength.
Standing up, Reisan allowed himself to tower over Sierra’s small, dainty form. They were different in every way. She was light, he was darkness. He was fire, she was water. Reaching around, the fallen took her bound wrists in his hands, eyes locking with hers as he spoke chanting words. Fire slid into the boy’s midnight eyes, blazing with the power and magic of his chant. The runes outlined with smouldering flames, glowing softly before the fire slid out of the carve marks and into his hands. Runes flashed up Reisan’s forearms to pool at his scars, stretching and contorting as they lit up in a sick map of fiery strokes. Reisan’s brow knitted in confusion, this had never happened before! Normally the runes just flashed and obeyed his command. Having used magic and the art of casting runes for centuries, Reisan considered himself a master at manipulating and bending the dark power to his will. The boy had only placed the simplest of guarding runes onto the corroding iron, never before had he experienced any kind of trouble with the casting or removal of runes, not even with the most dark and dangerous ones such as casting portals to hell. Blinking, the boy looked down at his arms to realize the fire had withdrawn. What the hell had just happened? Had the girl even noticed that he used magic instead of the handful of random keys in his palm? Reisan scrubbed at his face with his hand, attempting to clear away the haunting vision of the rune fire.
Sierra spoke with a low tone, but the words were lost to the boy. He saw her pink tinted lips move, suggesting the flow of words, but nothing registered. Frowning, Reisan allowed her to lead him to a small yoga mat before lowering himself to lay flat. The cool mat comforted him, pressing cold into the heated skin of his back. Lungs burning for air, the boy realized he had been unconsciously holding his breath the whole time. Lowing eyelids to veil his obsidian orbs, Reisan allowed himself to breath, in, out, trying to calm himself of the nerves which ran havoc through him. Sierra continued to talk, although this time her soft voice managed to penetrate his mental walls.
“I am immortal, Sierra, you need not fear killing me. I have been cursed to live in darkness and choke on the hate of a self-destructing world by the being the inhabitants of this planet call holy and gracious. If he were as they believed he would not have ripped out my wings. He took who I am Sierra, he broke me. Now I am nothing more than scars. I am a weapon, one who has taken the lives of many. The bastard placed immortality on me in the cruellest of tortures. I am to see babies born, grow up, fall in love, have children of their own and die, a forever turning wheel. God took my ability to die.” Pausing to let his words sink in before he continued, “A small bite from you, little vampire, amounts to nothing in the memories of what I have endured. I lost more blood when my wings were ripped out, and I was sent down to earth with a broken body and a shattered soul. Do not think me soft; do not mistake me for one who cares. On top of everything I have lost, I’ve experienced too much death, its blackened me and taken away all that is good. I am fire, Sierra, I burn those who come closest to me. It takes away everything until I am nothing.”
Reisan was surprised at how soft his voice had been as he spoke of himself. Never before had the fallen ever had the urge to share anything about himself, until now. This Sierra, beautiful Sierra made him feel at peace after thousands of years of torment. Smiling weakly, eyes raised to meet the smoky violet ones peering down at him with hunger and curiosity filtering in their depths. All the anxiety and tenseness drained out of her features, it was as though keeping her fangs hidden brought her pain and releasing them brought a feeling of bliss. Reisan, probably more than anyone, knew how she felt. The angel knew what it was like to keep the true nature of yourself hidden. More than once he had been forced to contort his wings and crush them beneath jackets to keep who, no what, he was hidden from people when he spent time on earth. The simple act of releasing his wings from their position and take to the sky was one of the only things that brought agony and sadness to Reisan’s heart.
All conscious thought flew out the window as Sierra brushed her lips against his neck. Supressing a moan of pleasure, Reisan sucked in a quick, sharp breath as her fangs sunk into his neck. The pain lasted only a moment before waves of pleasure rolled through him. Groaning in appreciation, Reisan allowed his hands to settle on her ribs, holding the girl to him in an embrace neither pulling her towards him nor pushing away. The boy’s veins sang and his blood rushed to exit his body to be drawn into her mouth. It was well know that vampire bites were addictive and brought extreme pleasure to both people involved, but Reisan wasn’t expecting anything like this. Feeling edgy and out of control, tension leeched its way into Reisan, but it was no match for the desire and arousal Sierra brought him.
Reisan felt the girl shift to withdraw her fangs, sated with a belly full of blood; she seemed less uncontrolled and spoke with a loosened tongue, as though she had been drinking too much alcohol. A breath hissed out of Reisan as she leaned back to straddle his hips. The fallen hadn’t realized how aroused he had become. Clenching his jaw, the angel turned his thoughts to other things, allowing his body to calm down. Thankfully, Sierra remained oblivious. Reisan allowed the breath he was holding to hiss out from between his clenched teeth. Eyes looking up cautiously into Sierra’s face as she wiped a smear of his blood from her mouth.
A warm trickle of blood slid down Reisan’s neck, slightly annoying him. Sierra shifted against his hips, causing the angel to once more clench his teeth, before she reached back to pull his shirt over her head to press against his neck and stop the bleeding. //Oh God!// Reisan pleaded in his mind. She was beautiful. And there was no doubt there was a connection between them. But no. NO! This could not happen. Would never happen again. Reisan refused to be the reason for this girl’s death. Fire danced tauntingly just under his skin as though proving his thoughts. The material pressed against the wound, soaking up any free-flowing blood and pressing against the wound to stop the bleeding.
Reisan watched with flickering orbs as Sierra stood up and waltzed over to the fridge, inspecting the interior and selecting a red cordial, before walking back to offer him a drink. The icy, strawberry flavoured water slid down his throat, extinguishing some of the flames writhing, begging for him to let them roam. Allowing his eyelids to drift down, covering the obsidian orbs beneath, taking a shaky breath, the boy attempted to calm his racing heart. //What the fuck Reisan!? Pull your fucking act together!// Growling words through his mind before he voiced them, or punched something…or someone.
[color=white]”Why the fuck is she not chained up Reisan!?” A low pitched, barely controlled voice broke through Reisan’s mental walls. Groaning, he looked over to where his brother, Lucas, stood at the door frame. A dark stain spread across the floor, leeching its way across the dark tiles in a sickening, oily black as Reisan realized Lucas had brought something to knock Sierra out. Fire roared to life within him, battering its way towards the surface, demanding to be let out and to hurt. Kill. Protect. The boy barely had time to throw up a block before it roared its way to the surface... all for Sierra.
Bearing his teeth towards the older angel at the door frame, Reisan couldn’t help but laugh as Lucas was thrown backwards after coming into contact with the invisible protective barrier at the door. Slipping his aloof, haunting mask back over his features, Reisan got up, eyes flickering to Sierra before glaring down at her, all previous pleasure and thoughts towards her thrown out the window. “Stay here Sierra. Do not make an attempt to help me. Do not move. Do not speak.” Fire writhed against the barrier he had hastily thrown up to protect her from being hurt by his flame, flickering dangerously in his previously obsidian orbs in a warning. Stalking back towards the door frame, Reisan acknowledged Lucas.
“You should have known better than to think I would not put protective runes on the door, brother. Sorry if I bruised your ass. And your ego.” Reisan glared at his brother who lay sprawled on the floor, Lucas hadn’t made an attempt to get up. Frustration and worry filled Reisan. Why the fuck was Lucas not getting up!? Walking through the door way, he felt the protection runes falter, before going out. The fallen swung around to look at the door. //What the fuck is going on!?// Reisan growled to himself. First the runes holding Sierra had acted strangely and now his strongest runes of protection had suddenly gone out. Something was wrong. Something was happening and Reisan had no idea what. Confusion gnawed at his insides.
Before the fallen had time to react, a fist smashed into the side of his face, catching him when he least expected it. The floor beneath Reisan rose up to greet him, as he smacked dazed onto the tiles, slick with the sickly green syrup concoction Lucas had brought with him to knock out Sierra. Blinking away the haze pain brought to his sight, Reisan looked up into the sneering face of Lucas. The fallen spat words at Reisan before strolling through the un-warded door to seize Sierra. Anger flared through Reisan. //Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine!// The word keened through his mind as his eyes locked with the fear filled smoky violet ones of Sierra.
With a loud growl, Reisan struggled to his feet, slipping on the syrup coated tiles, glass shredding his hands before embedding itself deep into his flesh. “You fucking asshole Lucas! Get the fuck away from her before I tare you limb from fucking limb!” Reisan’s rage and hate for Lucas cleared his mind, honing his gaze on the dark haired boy who had a strangle hold on Sierra. Lucas could easily kill her then and there, a gentle twist of her head could disconnect it from her neck, a gentle thrust over her heart could send his hand deep inside her chest to rip out her heart. The possibilities of her death were endless. Reisan looked into Sierra’s eyes once more, hoping she would twist out of his grasp the moment he attacked Lucas.
Instinct drove Reisan into action, sending a bolt of unseen flame at the other fallen, causing him to loosen his grip on the girl. Sierra struggled against his hands, tearing herself from his grasp. Reisan could only watch in horror as Lucas swiped at the girl, hand curling around her throat crushing her wind pipe and snapping her neck in a sickening crunch. The sound slapped Reisan in the face. Gritting his teeth, the angel roared in fury as something snapped within him, took him over and consumed him from the inside out. Sierra crumpled to the floor, eyes stared at the ceiling with an unseeing focus.
The beast roared again in fury, the sound shaking the whole building with its belligerent anger. The sound chilled Reisan to the bone. //Where the fuck had that come from…?// And then it hit him. It had come from himself. Fire had overtaken Reisan’s mind and body, finally released from its cage, the fallen could only watch as it, no he, tore at Lucas, ripping his arm from its socket, inflicting pain and hurt on the other immortal. Reisan felt stronger, faster, invincible even, his already heavily muscled frame filled even more, adding ropes of steel corded muscle. Reisan’s golden hair swirled around his head, disobeying gravity as it crackled with electricity. Lucas didn’t stand a chance.
Snarling and prowling the space between his fallen brother and Sierra, Reisan struggled to get back in control of himself. Movement caught out of his left eye as Sierra’s body healed, mending her broken neck and crushed wind pipe even though she still remained unconscious. Violent coughing erupted from her small frame, distracting the beast long enough for Reisan to get under control. This time, the beast willingly settled back in its cage, curling in on itself and going to sleep, content and settled after finally being allowed to roam freely. Shuddering in deep breaths of cool air, Reisan turned and strode over to Sierra. Dropping to his knees, the boy gently brushed a few strands of hair from her face, eyes darting over her with worry. Reisan had to get her out of here. The fallen was right to have had suspicion of his eldest brother; he should have doubted Lucas had changed. Scooping Sierra up into his arms, Reisan grabbed Everans by the sheath, walked out of the room, up the stairs and out into the pallid moonlight.
Lights flew past as cars drove around and signs screamed for attention, drawing the gaze of various passers-by. At this time or night, or rather morning, only thieves, druggies, whores and clubbers would be out. Slipping from shadow to shadow, Reisan tried to keep out of view. A man covered in blood, carrying an unconscious woman who had bruises all over her neck and holding a massive sword would cause panic among onlookers. Bright signs faded into security fences and dilapidated buildings with crumbling bricks. Up ahead, a sickly yellowed light sat alone and desolate on the road before Reisan. Somewhere in the distance a woman screamed, gunshots sliced through the quiet night and all was silent once more. Bugs swarmed in the pool of light, mesmerised by its glow as though it would give them something, or save them perhaps.
Sighing, Reisan walked on, his footfalls the only sound in the still night as his eyes fixed into the darkness. The boy was drawn to a neon sign like the bugs behind him had been to the street lamp. The sign read “Premium Accommodation. Vacancy.” Due to the burnt out lights, chipped paint, graffiti and bars on the windows, the building indicated by the sign looked horrific and spoke nothing of premium. Smiling to himself, Reisan realized it was the perfect place to lay low for the night. His brothers would not suspect he had come to this part of the neighbourhood, and this meant the fallen could at least get a good night’s sleep, a shower if he was lucky and enough time to allow Sierra to heal properly. At the reminder he held the limp girl in his arms, Reisan gazed down into her face, features illuminated in a sickly gaunt expression by the moon above.
After placing her in one of the faded, once floral printed, sofas, Reisan strapped Everans once more to his back, before pushing open the glass door, setting off a tinkling bell which alerted the owners someone was at the front desk. The young teenage male behind the counter looked to be about 19, sickly thin with his greasy black hair ruffled around his head, horrific acne and thick glasses. A scratched nametag suggested his name was Eric. Compelling the boy was easy enough, so Reisan was able to secure himself and Sierra one of the new rooms. Smiling, the fallen thanked Eric before swiping the small set of keys from the counter and proceeding outside once more. Gazing down at the number attached to the keys on a small tag, Reisan noted they would be staying in room 13 on the second floor.
Once more gathering Sierra into his arms, Reisan started the short climb to their room, all the while the girl remained unconscious, oblivious to everything. Opening the badly painted green door with a tacked on ‘13’, the smell of fresh paint and cleaning products assaulted the Fallen’s nose. Walking over to the lone double bed, Reisan placed the girl gently on the covers, noting a small shiver dart over her skin. Eyes roaming over her cautiously, noting she had no clothes other than the small bikini she had been wearing for the whole day. Rubbing his palms together, Reisan knew he should use magic to summon clothes for her. Turning his back to Sierra, Reisan padded to the centre of the room, dropping to sit cross legged on the floor, eyes closed, arms spread palms up. Chanting words, Reisan felt the familiar brush of power as magic stitched and formed clothes for the girl.
Opening his eyes, a neatly folded stack of clothes lay piled before him. Simple black skinny jeans, a dark grey long sleeved shirt, socks, a white bra and panties set and knee high leather boots greeted his touch. Returning to his chant, Reisan summoned some clothing for himself. Black jeans, black shirt. His comfort clothes and modern battle armour. The girl obviously preferred skimpy, vibrantly coloured clothes, but with his limited ability to summon clothing, what he had would have to do. Collecting the piles of clothes, he got up, placing hers on the small bedside table to the right of the bed. Turning, the fallen strode into the bathroom, locking the door and stripping himself of clothes before turning on the shower and stepping into the scolding hot water.
After towelling himself dry and dressing in his new clothes, Reisan walked back into the small bedroom watching from the shadows as Sierra slept on. Crossing to the barred window, the fallen looked out into the night’s sky where planes made their way across the vast expanse of darkness. A bitter taste coated Reisan’s mouth at the sight of the planes. Pathetic humans thought they could claim the sky with their giant metal contraptions. Humans thought themselves kings of everything after they claimed the sky with these planes, thought them swift and elegant when in reality, they had the grace of a toddler learning to walk. They had nothing on the agility nor the grace and speed of true flight of the birds and not a single thing on the flight of angels. Sighing, Reisan turned away from the sight, both angered and sickened by the human race once again.
Sauntering over to the bed, the boy gently picked up Sierra, placing her under the covers before crawling in after her. No way in hell was she leaving his side. Not when she was hurt and he had just stolen something that his brothers and Lucifer wanted so badly. Yawning widely, Reisan closed his eyes, shut off his thoughts and relaxed into the bed. Sleep pulled him under, wrapping him up in warmth and safety before the nightmares began.

/ / ~ S i e r r a . . .
( this is how you remind me. )

The sun peeping through the obsidian curtains gradually roused her from her from a cocoon of warmth, and her sleep. Irked by the fact she had been awoken so early – or so she thought – Sierra let her eyelids close again, before rotating her body, so she wasn't facing the window. The mere thought of the chilly Autumn weather outside sent shivers rocketing through her body. A shroud of heat lingered only inches from her face, warming her. Unsure of what this was, the girl arched herself forward, only to come in contact with a warm, firm object that seemed to be... breathing. Reisan. The name freed the butterflies that were held captive behind prison bars in her stomach. His element licked at his sun kissed skin, emitting waves of heat that she greedily pressed herself against, absorbing it. Her element – water – had always made her temperature cooler. With her face pressed against his chest, she inhaled deeply, adoring the dull scent of his cologne. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the gentle thrum of his heart, indicated he was still sleeping. Carefully peering through her thick lashes, Sierra studied the silver scars staining his well defined muscles. The sea blue eyes inched their way down to the waistband of his jeans. A thick layer of muscle rested just above the waistband – a layer of muscle she probably shouldn't have noticed. The feeling of laying in his arms was a drug of it's own. On and off, the girl hovered on the brink of sleep. Laying in the arms of another was a foreign but comforting feeling. On the occasion, she could feel his heart quicken or skip a few beats, as if he were having a nightmare, and this usually sent her soaring back awake. Finally, after receiving a couple more winks of sleep, Sierra withdrew contact from the boy and shuffled over towards the edge of the bed.
A pile of feminine looking clothes balanced upon the arm of the tartan couch. Were they for her? Where had he even gotten them from? The thought of how he had gotten his hands on these clothes were soon released from her mind as she scooped them up into her arms. Jeans, a dark grey hoodie, socks and clean lingerie. A grateful grin curved at her lips as she headed towards the bathroom. On her journey, the clumsy girl stumbled over an unknown item and hit the grey carpet with a muted thud. Rubbing her bare knees, Sierra muttered dark curses, glancing over at Reisan to see if she had awoken him. He was still sleeping, but stirred slightly and broke into a series of quiet snores. She giggled quietly and glanced at the object she had tripped on. A pair of knee high, black boots with a microscopic heel. “He knows how to pick out some sexy shoes, I'll give him that much,” the girl murmured to herself, studying them carefully. There was no size tag on her clothes, nor was there a size on the boots but found herself hoping they'd fit her. Tottering off into the bathroom with her pile of clothes, the door clicked shut behind her, barely audible. The reflection of herself startled her immensely. Dark circles of blue and purple outlined her neck, and two of her fingers instinctively reached up and applied pressure against them. Wincing as a dim pain sizzled under the bruises, vivid memories came pouring through her head, burning holes into her mind like acid. Someone had snapped her neck – the same man that had tried to break through the threshold cloaked with runes. It was a little blurred, but the memories had been easily recovered. It had all happened so fast, it was slightly confusing. Voices whispers in her mind, informing her that he was Reisan's brother. He had crushed her windpipe and snapped her neck. The man had had a brilliant opportunity to kill her – but he hadn't. Maybe she was more important to them than she had realised she was. Shoving the harsh memories from her cage of thoughts, Sierra ignored the bruises and stripped herself free of the colourful bikini, tip-toeing over to the shower.
 The water had been like magic – warm and massaging. Her hair now smelt of mango and coconut, and her skin held the delightful stench of lavender. Refreshed and squeaky clean, the girl wiggled into her clothes. The dark jeans hugged her legs snugly, and the dark grey hoodie was thick, and warm. Rubbing her hands together as they disappeared under the sleeves, she let her bronze hair shower down her back in tumbling waves.
Sauntering over towards the window, sapphire eyes gazed up at the silver sky. The once fiery orb had been replaced by a mass of pallid clouds stretching out for miles. Not a glimpse of blue could be seen up above, nothing that promised a fine, sunny day. Slumping her shoulders with disappointment, her gaze drifted toward the minute kitchen and her stomach rumbled softly in response. The truth was, Sierra had always been a horrific cook. She would've burned water if it was possible. Ambling over towards the refrigerator, her manicured fingers grasped the handle, and pried it open with little effort. Along with the door groaning in protest, a film of bitterly cold mist spiralled around her clothed legs, but goosebumps still expelled over her skin. Inside the pale interior of the refrigerator were a couple of sealed cups of milk, that were often used to blend in with tea or coffee. There was also a beer, which would've been left behind by one of the most recent guests. The motel room itself was run-down and shabby, so the beer could've been months – years – old. This caused her to wonder what the exterior of the motel looked like. An amused giggle escaped from her lips, and she deftly let the door of the refrigerator swing shut with numerous squeaks along the way. On the scratched door were alphabet magnets, accompanied by the numbers from one to ten. Tilting her head slightly, Sierra arranged the letters to form the simple word 'angels'. Overcome with boredom, the girl slithered towards the cupboards, finding most of them empty. But in a cupboard above the aqua stove, a flyer spilled out. It had colourful balloons printed around in a square, acting as a border. Bold, indigo writing captured her attention. It read; “OPEN HOUSE PARTY” in all capital letters.
Rising an eyebrow, she continued to read the information about this party – including the date. The flyer also obtained the date on which the party would be held on. It would be held tonight. Grinning broadly, Sierra set it down on the counter, drumming her fingers against its chilled marble. A sudden interest in attending the party swept over her. It would be a good opportunity to feed, and she might even enjoy herself or meet some new people. Reisan, however, she wasn't sure if he'd allow it. Or want to attend.
Folding the sheet of paper once, she dawdled towards the mound of clothes that belonged to him and balanced it upon them. Sierra sighed as her eyes delivered a glance in the direction of him and made her way back towards her side of the bed. She launched herself under the covers and turned on her side so her back was to him. The sky tainted with gloom and ruined with silver and grey projected a sluggish light. The petite girl let the sound of Reisan's breathing lull her into a light sleep. She found herself swimming in memories – memories of the previous night. The night she wished she'd died.

// - R e i s a n
[I have lived one thousand lies.]

The bed beside Reisan was cold. Jerking himself into a sitting position, his gaze tore around the room, detecting wafts of steam sliding out from underneath the bathroom door. //Sierra must be taking a shower.// Reisan thought to himself. Blinking his obsidian orbs slowly, Reisan tried to ignore the images flowing through his mind; of warm water sliding over Sierra’s tanned skin, the slight sound of movement and indeed, drops of water hitting her soft skin had his jaw tightening and his muscles bunching. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, Reisan ran a hand over the scratchy bed linen, which some time years ago had been new and white, but now lay a hue somewhere between faint brown and grey. Lying back, the fallen tried to get some more sleep, closing his eyes and ignoring the sound of Sierra shuffling around in the bathroom.

A soft scent hit Reisan’s nose as he smelt Sierra before his eyes even fell to gaze upon the petite vampire. Sunshine, coconut, mango, lavender and the slight tang of salty ocean water. A heady perfume that Reisan had already committed to memory and associated with Sierra. Swallowing quietly, Reisan lay immobile as she moved around the room, padding lightly across the floor, shuffling around in cupboards and in the fridge. The simple act of being able to lay quiet while another moved around, was a big thing for the tough Fallen; while he lay unguarded, Everans too far out of reach if she were to even think of being as silly as to attack him. Not that he would use the blade against Sierra. Well, not unless he had to. There were many ways he could immobilise her and then use restraints to try and calm her, if it even came to that. Surely the girl had more sense than to pick a fight with such an ancient warrior.

Paper rustled. Sierra had found something and was reading it. Opening his eyes into slits, their obsidian depths hidden by a fringe of black lashes focussed on the small woman as her face light with excitement. Dear Gods, he hoped she wasn’t interested in whatever lay on the paper. He just wasn’t in the mood for relaxing. He had to protect her, even if that meant making an enemy out of himself and denying her the ability to even leave his side for but a moment. Flame licked beneath his skin as images of what had happened to her at the hands of one who he had called his ‘brother’ played over and over. The snap of bone, the dark purple bruises blossoming over pale skin, the vacant expression in her usually vibrant eyes, he just couldn’t take the assault of feeling that he had towards the event. He shouldn’t care anything for her. And yet he did. The immovable, emotionally lacking Fallen felt a quickening of his heartbeat and tightening in his body every time he lay eyes upon Sierra.

//Sierra.// He spoke the word aloud in his mind, allowing himself the taste the very essence of her as the name rolled around his mind. Ore flames gathered beneath his skin as she continued to move around, coming closer and closer to the bed. Reisan swallowed and closed his eyes tightly, trying to appear asleep. Springs groaned and the bed creaked as she dived under the blankets, startling Reisan, fire licking from his fingertips to set the bed spread alight. Shoving she small woman out, Reisan laughed loudly, the sound startled, as flames danced and writhed, rebelling against his call to withdraw back into his skin, burning marks into the grey bed spread, filling the room with a slight smoke. Thank Gods the fire detectors didn’t even work.

“Shit.” Reisan growled in a low voice, ripping off his shirt and walking over to the scratched, stainless steel sink, jerking the tap on full ball as water splashed everywhere, turning to steam as it came into contact with his skin. Swinging around, he strode over to the bed, water running in rivets down his forearms, sizzling softly. Extinguishing the flames with the soaked material, Reisan frowned at the mess he had made of the bed. Sheets blackened and charred from where the flames had eaten away at the cotton. “Uh, sorry about that, you startled me.” Chuckling humorlessly, Reisan looked at Sierra, a wolfish half-smile gracing his lips. “Next time, don’t startle me so much, I could have hurt you.” A frown creased Reisan’s brow as his features turned serious. Getting slightly aggravated at the fact Sierra would probably never believe what he was doing was for her own good; that he was actually far from the bad guy.

The shirt in Reisan’s hands was starting to drip water into the floor, giving the Fallen something, other than Sierra, to focus on. Clearing his throat, the Fallen caught sight of a piece of paper laying atop the pile of clothes he had created for himself before he had gone to bed. Standing barefoot and wearing only a pair of loose, low-slung military pants, Reisan strode over to investigate the piece of paper. Balling the shirt in his hands, he murmured the bold, colourful words as his eyes scanned along. Sighing, he balled up his shirt and threw it into the bathroom where it landed on the while tiles with a splat. Keeping his back to her made Reisan uncomfortable, it made him feel as though she was judging him because of his scars, the deepest of which lay upon his back in vertical lines, scarring deep gouges into his otherwise tanned skin. Picking up his bundle of clothes he turned to eye Sierra, the party invitation crumpling in his hand when he moved. “If we go. And that’s a big, IF, my dear. You will not defy me in any way, you will not leave my side. Even to feed. And I’m guessing that is the reason you are wanting to go, yes?” Pausing for her answer, he scrubbed a hand over his face, gaze settling upon her small form once more. The beat within him stirred when he noticed just how good she looked in the clothes he had summoned for her. The fact that she had brought forth these feelings in him had him confused, yet oddly satisfied that he had been able to care for her.

“I’m going for a shower, Angel, stay here. The room is warded so no-one can get in or out through any passage.” Shock flitted through Reisan when he noticed he had given her an affectionate name. //Angel. Angel? Where the fuck did you get that from, Reisan. She isn’t yours and nor should she ever want to be. You’re damaged. Broken.// The beast taunted him from within, knowing just how deeply the fallen had started to care for this woman. Grunting, he moved into the shower, tossing his clothes onto the floor, far enough out of the shower’s reach to ensure they wouldn’t get wet. Unbuckling the belt at the front of his pants and undoing the button, Reisan realized he had forgotten to shut the door. Chuckling to himself, he moved to do so.

Stripping himself naked, the tall fallen stepped into the shower and shut the glass door afterwards. With a turn of his head, Reisan caught the metal shower head on his brow, the unexpected pain had flames licking up his arms. He took a breath to calm himself, adjusting the shower head to compensate for his height and stepping under the hot jet of water, he groaned and massaged his temples, grateful for the luxurious heat. There had been many times in his life that Reisan had not had the luxury of bathing, and when he did, it was mainly cold water un a tub or out in a river or stream. The shower and hot water systems were something Reisan could actually thank the human race for inventing. Lathering his skin with a bar of soap, he rinsed off before reaching over to the small shelf and selecting a bottle of coconut and mango shampoo. Opening the bottle, the pungent perfume hit his nostrils, one scent that had him longing to bury his face into the fall of bronze curls that belonged to Sierra, nuzzle is face against the curve of her neck and simply hold her in an embrace while he deciphered the complex perfume that was Sierra.

Shutting off the shower, he stepped out and grabbed one of the towels hanging on the rack to his left, towelling himself off. The soft, fluffy white towels looked near to new, probably the only new things this hotel had seen in years. Pulling on the pair of black military pants he had summoned, Reisan threaded his belt through the top of his pants before bending down to grab his shirt. Opening the door, Reisan ran a hand through his blonde locks, tasseling the strands to air them before slipping on the black tee that stuck to his chest like a second skin, defining his heavy muscles. Buttoning his pants and bucking his belt, Reisan strode over to the bed, sitting down to pull on some heavy socks, following them with his combat boots. His whole attire screamed sexy but killer. Emphasis on the killer. Looking over to Sierra, his heart beat slightly harder as he smiled at her. Slightly surprised by the fact he was smiling, Reisan stood and walked over to the smaller woman, touching her cheek lightly with the knuckles of his left hand. His smile was genuine. Possibly the first one he had managed since falling.

“Come on Angel. If you wish to attend this party I will take you. But do not run from me. I’m not the enemy. As hard as that may be to comprehend, you’re the first person I have felt this at ease with. Do not make me regret placing my trust in you, little one.” The scent of mangoes and coconut clung to her, invading his senses, overriding them and giving him the urge to once more bury his face into the sweet curve where her neck flowed into her shoulder. His left hand slid to one of her copper curls, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply, the scent a drug that seemed to calm the beast within him. “You look stunning.” Sighing as he straightened, Reisan ran a hand through his hair again, before turning to the door, opening it to reveal the world outside. Stepping back like a gentleman, Reisan bowed and gallantly swept a hand in gesture towards the door. “After you, Angel.”

/ / ~ S i e r r a . . .
( this is how you remind me. )

The foreign feeling of heat brushed against her back, probing at her slightly before darting closer, and closer. Before the heat caressed it's way along her back, a pair of extremely warm hands briefly pushed her forward, sending her tumbling from the bed. The girl caught herself before she dived face first onto the floor and rolled once before perching herself up on her knees to see what the problem was. She hadn't even known Reisan had been awake the whole time. Curious, wide eyes glanced up at the bed where she once lay, only to see it ignited with small flames, eager to reach higher as they singed the stained bed sheets. Before she could respond, the boy had already vigorously pulled his shirt from over his head and was saturating the limp material. Smoke belched and was forced into the crisp air above, swirling in meaningless patterns. Behind the meager flames, Sierra could see Reisan attempting to put out the fire with the wet shirt, and successfully put it out. The thick smoke in the air forced her to cover her nose and mouth with the sleeve of her dark jumper, and immediately, the girl lifted herself from her crouching position and opened the scratched, glass window behind her. A spluttering of coughs trailed from her mouth as she inhaled the fresh air outside. While trying to poke her head out of the window, it felt as if there were invisible forces, pushing her back inside the window. The runes, she thought absently, remembering the sight of the boy last night who had also been repelled by them. Shrinking back inside the room, her element fizzed inside of her, reminding her of it's weak, but gentle power. In her human form, her element wasn't as strong as it were in her vampire form. But, it eventually grew stronger the more she tried to use it.
A string of words mumbled from the boy's mouth, explaining how he could've hurt her accidentally. “I can take care of myself,” Sierra mentioned, folding her arms across her chest confidently as her lustrous eyes monitored the boy carefully. Drops of water from his shirt dribbled down his arms, and dissolved into sizzling bursts of steam. This surprised her, but then she realised it wasn't at all that surprising when his skin would've been as hot as the flames that scorched the bed. It made her wonder if he had purposely done it to scare her, reminding her of his perilous element, and what he could do to her. Tendrils of the noxious smoke still drilled through the morning air, but was beginning to fade and tumble out of the window. The sun was beginning to peep around the silvery clouds, and the pastel blue sky was outlining the edges of the clouds as the scurried away. The exposed sun was providing more of a promising light than earlier, and this allowed Reisan's scars to stand out more. They were scattered over his body, and it sent thoughts cycling through her mind as she wondered how he'd gotten them. Prying her eyes from his athletic build, Sierra continued her thoughts elsewhere, not wanting to be caught staring. They didn't make her want to squirm in disgust, or flee in horror, but they fascinated her. How could he had fought endless battles, and survived the lot? Hell. How many battles had he been in? How old was he? 
She bit her at the corner of her bottom lip numbly, holding back a smile at the last question that strolled through her mind. The crinkling of paper alerted her attention, and all previously thoughts were forgotten. Meekly sauntering up beside him as he murmured the words on the paper aloud, Sierra studied his face, trying to comprehend what he was thinking before he said anything about it. His face was a flawless mask, betraying nothing that hinted what his thoughts were – blank. Finally, his answer came. It wasn't a refusal, but he didn't confidently confirm they were going, either. Azure orbs lowered to study the grimy tiles they stood on as she drank in the words that spilled from his mouth. Most of the reason she wanted to go was to feed. The people who weren't under the influence of alcohol were much easier to compel than those her were sober. The other part of the reason was, she wanted to sneak away from the tight, protective grasp the fallen angel held on her. She didn't even know his true reason for still holding her captive. He had saved her from the guys who had been holding her hostage and wanting her because she was cursed, but he still was eager to stay by her side? It only just occurred to her, that he was holding her hostage under the nightclub too, and was – in a sense – still holding her hostage now. The girl nodded in reply to his question about her wanting to attend because of her vampire needs. He seemed satisfied with her reply, then informed her he was going to take a shower. Her eyes altered from studying the filthy tiles of the floor, to his face. He'd mentioned the word; angel. And he said it as if it were her nickname. Deep, startled orbs searched his face, but soon softened. Usually, people gave nicknames to things or people they were getting attached to. She sincerely hoped he wasn't getting attached to her; more for his sake than hers. An arrangement of shock displayed over his face, and Sierra smiled up at him slightly, pretending she hadn't heard it to avoid future embarrassment for him if she questioned him about it. “Okay,” the girl replied simply, dawdling towards the tartan couch the piles of clothes had previously rested upon, she dived onto it and watched the boy walk in the direction of the bathroom.
The television in front of her played softly, but it didn't hold her interest. This mysterious, alluring boy did. It astonished her to think, that even after he'd chained her to a support column, put runes over the doors, held her hostage; and was continuing to do so, that there was still something about him that made her want to be around him. His gentle laughter annihilated her mental walls, and the girl realised she had been idly staring at him while he undressed. Cheeks heating to a pale red, Sierra groaned inaudibly and covered her face with embarrassment when he'd closed the door. The word angel kept replaying constantly through her mind. The name he'd called her earlier. That sweet, affectionate name. Coming to the conclusion that the television was going to bore her half to death, the brunette ambled over towards the sink. Eyes closed, she focussed on her element. The cool, soothing feeling of water, the gentle moving of the waves at the beach as they rolled over one another, the soft patter of rain. As if responding to her thoughts, water began to flourish from the palms of her outstretched hands and mold into a basic shape. The thin film of water clung to her hands like glue, until a breath of exhalation drifted from her nose. The water obeyed gravity and slid from her hands, spilling down the drain. Clearing her mind, the girl's eyes opened and she grinned triumphantly. Many had told her with a lot of practice, her element would become stronger – even in human form. The bathroom door unlocked, and Reisan stepped out. His fresh, clean scent weaved through her nose. Boosting herself onto the counter, she watched him; intrigued. He strutted towards her once his boots slipped onto his feet, and an unexpected hand reach out and brushed against her cheek. Instinctively, her heart skipped a few beats as he did, but it soon dropped back to his side. Their eyes met briefly, and a smiled played on his lips. Sierra couldn't help but smile in return. Reisan then announced he'd take her to the party, and her eyes lit up with sheer excitement.
The girl couldn't help but notice the use of her new nickname within one of the few sentences he'd spoken. “Thank you, Reisan!” she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck eagerly. The embrace they shared, only lasted for more than a few seconds. As she pulled away, he gently balanced a tuft of her hair in his hand and leaned in to inhale. “You look stunning,” he told her, as he let go of her lock of bronze hair. “Thanks,” Sierra answered, a coy grin tugging slightly at the corners of her mouth. Leaping from the counter, the delighted girl followed Reisan to the door and he opened it, stepping aside; like a gentleman. A blush slowly crept to her cheeks as she stepped outside. The unpolluted, salty air was inhaled and Sierra smiled, a feeling of bliss enveloping her. She loved the outdoors. “How about you say we go for breakfast? I know this really good place around the corner that does the best pancakes, bacon and egg and muffins. I haven't really tasted the other things, but I'll guarantee you, they'd be good,” she suggested, feeling her empty stomach beginning to stir. Without waiting for a reply from the boy, the blue eyed girl toured through the unpretentious, homely town, knowing he would obediently spring from a halt to chase her to her desired destination. The streets were tidy and neat, but were riddled with people taking an early morning stroll, with or without their dogs. A prolonged block of simple brick stores loomed up ahead. Colourful, vibrant signs decorated the boring brick, advertising what the stores were selling. Long garden beds adorned the path ways, containing psychedelic coloured flowers and immaculately trimmed hedges. The early morning bird song whispered through the town, and the stench of coffee was strong, lingering in the air. Sierra paced towards a store, nestled between two larger stores, with a sign that was pushed up against the glass that read; Dudley's Cafe. This was her favourite place to eat out for breakfast. Spinning around to search for Reisan, jubilant to be able to share one of her favourite places with someone new, she captured his hand and dragged him into the interior of the building. It was dimly lit, but provided a comfortable light. A boy in his teenage years stood at the counter. His eyes were a bright green, almost like someone had forced emeralds into his eye sockets, and his hair was brown, streaked with blonde. A badge was pinned to his shirt, offering a name. Kurt. He was tall – but not as tall as Reisan – and he looked at her with hungry, devouring eyes. Shivering, the girl dropped the fallen angel's hand and glanced up at the board above the stoves, which contained a menu. “What would you like to order? My treat,” she whispered to Reisan as she stepped up to the counter. The boy's eyes met hers, and she found that they looked glazed, but very aware of her. “I'd like to order two pancakes, with maple syrup and whipped butter, one milkshake,” Sierra paused, watching his shaky fingers tap against the touch screen, “and what would you like?” she queried, directing the question at Reisan, but quickly turned her head back to Kurt.“I'm sure you'd love to pay for our meal. I'll pay you back tonight. Meet me at the party in Jenkins Avenue, you know that one right? Be there,” the vampire whispered in a seductive, but compelling tone. The boy obediently nodded his head twice, a smile plastering across his face. Sierra spun around and peered up at Reisan, “I'm going to get us a table. Tell Kurt what you want. He's shouting us breakfast,” she giggled musically, bumping her shoulder against his lightly as she walked past him and reserved them a table. Drumming her fingers against the chilled marble quietly, Sierra watched the waves in the distance tear across each other in a rampage. How she wished she was back at the beach again. But instead, she was getting breakfast with a fallen angel assassin, who she believed, wanted to kill her.

// - R e i s a n
[I have lived one thousand lies.]

Reisan watched as the small, copper haired woman ran on ahead, probably with the intent of provoking him into scurrying after her. With a short laugh, Reisan contented himself with walking, intending to show Sierra a level of trust in the fact that she could not run from him. Unconscious to the fact a large smile curved his mouth wickedly; Reisan pushed his hands into the pockets at his pants, exposing a narrow strip of heavily scarred but tanned abdomen as he walked with single-minded purpose.

Fluffy clouds danced and whirled slowly across the sky above, partially blocking the sun from shining down for but a moment, dappling the ground in shadow. Peering up at the sky, Reisan sighed. Memories of soaring high above, carried by his large silver tainted black wings, delicate feathers caressing the winds plagued his mind. Reisan felt as though his heart was being squeezed when he remembered his old life. The life that he could never go back to, all because this being so often referred to as “God” kicked him out of heaven. Scrubbing a calloused hand over his features, Reisan slipped his hands into his pockets and continued after Sierra, lost in deep thoughts of complete desolation.

A brightly coloured, cheerful looking shop came into Reisan’s view, musing to himself, he thought dryly; // If I wasn’t so messed up, or if I were human, I would bring Sierra here every morning just to see her smile. // Shaking his head, the Fallen’s shoulders slumped forward as he entered the store, gaze settling on Sierra as she ordered her meal.

Strange, dark emotions flittered through Reisan as he noticed the boy behind the counter gazed at Sierra with an expression that said exactly what he’d like to do with her. Rage blinded his senses; even as Sierra turned and spoke to him before walking over to a worn booth, settling down to await her meal. The beast stirred within its cage, snarling with menace. What right did this human think he had to look at Sierra like that...? // She isn’t yours, Reisan; she could never be with someone like you. Broken. Scarred. Disgraced...// The words floated through Reisan’s mind, breaking through the red haze that covered his eyes and had fire licking scant millimetres beneath his skin.

Licking his lips, Reisan looked up at the menu board, settling on something called a ‘cappuccino’ as a drink and a plate of some food called ‘pancakes with ice-cream and syrup’, deciding they would be the most energy filled substances to get him through the day, even though his millennia old body required no sustenance to survive, Reisan had no idea how to sit down and share a meal with another. In five long strides, Reisan found himself standing in front of the booth Sierra was seated at. He stretched out his form, yawning as he did so, cracking his knuckles before he seated himself on the bench opposite the female.

Reisan was overcome with the sudden urge to tell her this was the first meal he had shared with another. And also the first he had eaten in over 800 years. “Uh, Sierra, I… Tis’ a first for me.” The confession rushed out of him before he could think, his accent thick. “I do not need to eat or drink, doing so is an unnecessary choice, but I am able to take in sustenance as it suits me. I’ve never shared a meal with another, nor have I consumed food for over 800 years.” Running a hand through his hair, Reisan had no idea why he felt obligated to share that information with Sierra.

Behind the window to his left, clouds ambled across the sky slowly, the sun trying with vain to break through for long periods, instead settling for breaks in the clouds to dapple the world with its warming rays. The Fallen unconsciously rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, crossing his arms on the table, tracing one of the raised ugly scars marring the flesh of his right arm; the action calming him.

Footsteps neared their table as the boy from behind the counter came towards them, plates of food balanced on his arms and their drinks held within each of his hands. With haste, the boy placed their meals on the table before scurrying off, out of sight. Heady scents filled the air, making Reisan’s mouth water as he inhaled. Glancing over at Sierra, he noticed she had unrolled a knife and fork from a napkin and started to eat. Mimicking her actions, Reisan did the same, cutting into a pale, flat disk shaped dough that appeared to be a pancake, swirling it in some syrup before placing it in his mouth.

Flavour exploded on Reisan’s pallet, chewing slowly, the fallen closed his eyes, exhaled and groaned softly. The pancake was light and fluffy, the syrup sickly sweet and lightly flavoured with an assortment of fruits, none of which Reisan had tasted before. Glancing at Sierra with an expression mixed with surprise, wonder and sadness. Never before had someone cared enough to show him things like this. It was expected that Reisan was the emotionally blank, uncaring angel who carried out justice. No-one had asked if he was ok, cared enough to show him kindness. That was until this tiny slip of a woman. Although the probably hated him and believed him to be her captor, Reisan had experienced more of the world with this single woman than he had with any of his brothers or on his own.

Blinking slowly, Reisan was all but purring with the deliciousness of the food he was eating. Swallowing a mouthful, Reisan set his knife and fork down, reaching out slowly to touch Sierra’s forearm softly so she looked at him. “Thank you, Sierra, for sharing this meal with me.” With a swallow, Reisan breathed slowly. In. Out. Before removing his hand and settling them in his lap, hunching slightly as he looked out the window at the world beyond. A pair of lovers were kissing on a bench, an elderly couple were laughing and smiling, swinging their entwined hands back and forth between them, children laughed and ran about in the park under the tender, yet watchful gazes of their mothers. It seemed that everyone bar Reisan was entitled to happiness. Everyone but him had found it and yet happiness was something he had never known. Each smile never touched his eyes nor his heart.

Materialising himself a dark grey hoodie, Reisan refused to meet Sierra’s gaze. Too scared by what she might see in his eyes, written all over his tired and weary face. “Sierra, I… I’m sorry for what has happened to you. My brothers will do anything to get their hands on you. I’ve tried to keep you safe, but it is clear you are unhappy under my care. You may go, do as you please, but go far from here, tell no-one your name and be careful. I-I’m too broken. Too scarred, too insensitive, I don’t know how to act with people. Please, please forgive me.” The confession rushed out of Reisan, gaze moving to the plate of pancakes before him.

With a sigh, Reisan met her gaze for but a glimpse, pulling the hoodie over his head before striding from the small shop, shutting the door behind him with the sound of a tinkling bell. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, Reisan headed towards the beach, guided by the soft sound of waves lapping at the beach and the ever present smell of salt water. With each of his footsteps, the land beneath Reisan’s feet faded from earth to sand as he made his way to the rockier part of the beach, perching himself upon a large, flat rock which jutted above the sand. Gazing out over the water, he watched as the sun lowered itself below the horizon. Waves crashed upon rock, sending water spraying into the air. The world moved on, grew old, changed, evolved, lived, died. That is, everything except for one oversized, emotionally unstable Fallen Angel, who had no place on earth, nor in the heavens.

/ / ~ S i e r r a . . .
( this is how you remind me. )

After listening to his confession, the girl immediately felt idiotic for bringing him out for breakfast, knowing that he had no reason to consume an entire meal. A selfish idea that she had not given him the chance to refuse, just forced to accept. Dipping her head with the feeling of shame clouding in her stomach, Sierra carefully unravelled the silver cutlery that lay curled inside of a white napkin. It became apparent to her, that his watchful, steel grey eyes monitored each movement she made, then mimicked her actions without making it look extremely obvious. Casting her gaze over the world outside as the drizzled she rich syrup over the twin pancakes, she sighed inaudibly and sliced a small section from the meal and delivered it to her mouth. Chewing thoughtfully, her eyes drifted over to the masculine figure sitting across from her. His eyes also were settled on the life that existed on the other side of the glass. There was a silence between them, that wasn't awkward but oddly comforting and peaceful. Soft, instrumental music that sounded somewhat like a mixture of a piano and a trumpet rolled from the speakers, laced with old cob webs. Spooning another mouthful of the delightful substance into her mouth, lethargically stretching her legs beneath the table.Neither of them attempted to begin a conversation throughout the whole meal, but the soft murmur of conversations between the other people in the cafe flitted through her ears. Every now and again, she could see the green eyed waiter glance at her with a sly smile spreading across his mouth, as if they were secret lovers and held a secret that only they knew. This made her slightly uncomfortable, and alter her position to angle herself away from the boy, and towards the window more. Catching the soft stare of Reisan, it allowed curiosity to roll through her body as his eyes contained surprise, wonder and sadness. It made her feel almost guilty, to catch him with the hint of sadness smothered within the depths of his alluring eyes – like she she'd just read his diary. It appeared to her, that he held a strong, uncaring facade, but really just was lost, needing a little bit of guidance and kindness. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, but she decided to once again, peer out the window.
Beautifully coloured birds began to collect twigs, gathering items to build a nest. Children rode by on skateboards, squealing and laughing as they did so. A homeless woman with her child lay in the shadowed area of the streets, looking weak and frail. A man dressed in a pin striped suit ambled past and flipped them a couple of gold coins. Their tired faces suddenly became bright as they thanked the man over and over. Sierra could feel an almost identical smile cast over her own face. The world was such a beautiful place, but could be equally horrible. The feeling of another brushing against her forearm alerted her that her mind had been wandering, and she hadn't even started her second pancake. It was Reisan. The charming, blonde haired boy who had an accent as thick as anything and eyes as grey as steel. Thankful words began to tumble from his mouth and she nodded in reply, feeling she didn't really have to say anything, just listen. Something told her there was more to come. The gentle hand was removed from her arm, and his eyes found something to focus on else where, but the feeling that he had something else to say lingered in the air between them, so she patiently waited. This time his eyes refused to meet hers. Instead, he pretended that something on the table had captured his gaze as he spoke to her. Several emotions broke through her, running havoc like the raging sea. Fear, amazement, sympathy, guilt, thankfulness, confusion.
Before the girl could react or reply in any way, shape or form, the soft rattling of shop bells was audible and he was no where to be found. An untouched cappuccino, and a half eaten plate of pancakes that had once been Reisan's lay before her. Luminous eyes quickly darted to the window, searching for the boy who had just walked out on her. There was a messy clutter of people everywhere, and he was no where to be seen. It was as if he had just vanished into thin air. She couldn't form any words, and her face displayed the expression of a blank canvas. It was still processing through her mind, what had just happened. Should she run and possibly save her life? Or should she stay and face what had to come? Throughout her short-lived life, the most important lesson she had learned from life; was to never run from anything, stand up and face it. Rising to her feet in a movement that was far from graceful, Sierra found her balance unsteady and knees shaking. Placing her palms against the biting temperature of marble, the girl struggled to expel the element overload without making it too noticeable. A film of sweat began to manifest itself over the back of her neck and forehead slightly. After a short moment of being unsteady on her feet, a renewed sense of balance warmed at the soles of her feet. Striding out of the cafe, she wiped her sleeve over her forehead in attempt to collect the cold sweat that had gathered over her forehead. Outside, the world seemed to be spinning. It was a bizarre sensation and she wasn't sure where it had even come from. The shock of his departure? Possibly. The unbelievable apology he'd just given her? Maybe. Closing her eyes and becoming more aware of her senses, Sierra felt the tender breeze ruffle through her copper hair, caress the light material of her clothes. Reisan, Reisan, Reisan, Reisan, Reisan.... The same words whispered through her head, and as if she had been trying to pinpoint his location, she felt an eccentric feeling of being dragged, and had no choice but to obey the feeling and follow it.Staggering blindly through the sea of moving bodies, Sierra searched almost every individual face in hopes of finding him somewhere among the crowd. No one even looking remotely alike him, and none of the faces appeared to look like they'd offer her a helping hand, either. Besides, most of them would probably sneer and turn on their way again. No one would understand her situation. Slowly but surely, the shape shifter was extracted from the crowd and was driven by an urge to follow the forest line. It looked like it was leading to no where, but more forest. She'd never been fond of walking through the forest, especially in her human form. There were too many mentally unstable people in the world who would just lurk in the forests, waiting for someone to venture in there and then lay out their plans on them. The thoughts sent shivers running down her spine, urging her to walk a bit faster, until she'd sprang into a hearty jog. Eventually, the sound of waves crashing harshly against the shore were heard and she moved through a bush that was riddled with thorns, clawing at her jeans like the claws of a panther. Her feet met firm, uneven land, followed by the sound of pebbles that had fallen. The sun was beginning to set slowly and the sky was a beautiful blend of pinks, oranges and yellows. The clouds were more of an amber and there were only very few people along the beach. Couples holding hands and walking together, kids building sandcastles, a dog splashing through the waves to fetch a stick, people laying upon towels. A familiar stinging began to singe her arms and legs as inky swirls began to take shape, her gums ached and her eyes began to feel watery. The transformation.
Scanning her eyes along the heavily foot-printed shore, a lone figure with a dark hood caught her gaze after seconds of searching. It was a large figure, so obviously a male. The dragging sensation was stronger than ever and the figure seemed to have a pallid, golden hue around it. Carrying on towards the human, she tip-toed up behind him, now positive it was Reisan. Settling down beside the boy, Sierra placed a gentle hand upon his leg and pulled down his hood. “Reisan,” she whispered hoarsely, peering up at him, “I want you to know that I didn't feel like I was trapped. At first I did, sure. But I could've escaped from you so easily this morning. Even now. But I haven't,” Sierra explained, “I actually am beginning to like spend time with you,” the newly transformed vampire giggled, ruffling his hair jokingly. “But the point is, I trust you. And I am honest to God, sick of spending so much time alone. I feel as if you understand me. And as for you not knowing how to act with people, I can teach you a thing or two.” Arching an eyebrow, she bumped her elbow against his playfully, a cheeky smile brightening her features, meeting her new vampiric, purple eyes. The soft sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled her ears, and her element probed her to go stand in the water. To feel the water, and be one with it. "Come for a swim with me," Sierra whispered in his ear, already standing up and preparing to take a dip. Her feets slipped out of her boots and socks, leaving them in a neat pile on the sand. "The water will be warm!" she teased, as she took off her jumper, leaving her in her bra and jeans. Although it would be convenient to swim in her bra and underwear, she fully knew white underwear is prone to going see-through. "I apologise in advance for this, and I really love these jeans, but..." The unfamilar sound of clothes tearing met her ears as she ripped the jeans she wore, and transformed them into mini shorts, the remnants of the jeans slipping down her leg. "But it would be a bit hard to swim in them," Sierra mused, making the other leg identical. Brushing the sand off her hands, she glanced down at him, "Meet you in there!" the vampire giggled and jogged down the beach, to the water and waded through until she was at her hips. It was a pleasant temperature, and gave her the perfect opportunity to expel her overloading element. A massive weight felt as if it was lifted off her shoulders, and a sigh of relief emitted from her mouth. Sierra let her knees collapse and she let her whole body merge into the water before rising to her feet again, wringing out her hair.
She did hope Reisan would join her, but she wasn't sure if he wanted to or not. But, she did make it very clear that she wanted him to accompany her.