Shard

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Location
🌑 Duncaster Streets.

Interactions
🌑 @Shard
🌙 Aiden.

🌑 @MsMorningstar
🌙 Violet.

🌑 @NorthernKraken
🌙 Colin.

---

The afternoon sun had long since dipped into obscurity, fading with memories of a previous day. Rather replaced by darkness, Aiden made his way down the dark streets of Duncaster with hands gently resting within the warmth of jacket pockets. ”Think it will ever end?” A quiet question escaped Aiden’s slender, pale lips, and were promptly met by a manifestation of his very own reflection.

With a dim light emanating from Lumen’s shape, the angelic spirit found himself pondering the notion for a brief spell. ”Are you asking me if mortals will cease their pursuit of gain?” The statement was followed by a raised brow, before Lumen continued, ”for that will never come to pass, unless the very nature of humanity shifts.”

Without the ability to prevent thoughts from finding their way back to his father, Aiden clenched his teeth. The very agency this Angel secured for his own was designed to exploit conflict. ”Maybe we should.”

Again, Lumen mulled the statement, and offered one of his own. ”You still consider yourself human?”

Unable to answer, Aiden paused, his eyes lowered to view the rain-soaked ground beneath his small feet. Was he human, still? He had asked himself the question more than once, and never did an answer surface. With a shake of his head, the boy continued. He left the alley behind, Steve’s hideout now secured behind a self-locking door, and started into the open streets.

---

Where are you?

Momma

13 Missed Calls

Vi I'm sorry but you need to get home. Everyone is...

Vince

Violet scrolled through her notifications, face scrunched up with distaste. Anxiety bubbled up, manifesting in the form of a slight aching in her spine. Fire lit up behind her eyes, willing tears to the surface.

Fuck. She was in so much trouble. Maybe cutting her losses would be best. Turning around, heading home and confronting her problems. Yeah. Yeah, that was best. Right?

Turning around, she began pacing in the direction of her apartment complex. She made it five steps, before freezing in place.

She couldn't go back home, not yet. Seeing their faces, full of pity and disappointment, would only serve to further the throbbing.

With a sigh, she shoved her phone back into her purse, lifting her hands to press her fingertips against her temples. She was so goddamn tired. And confused. She felt alone in the world.

Turn around.

Shoulders hunched, she took a step back and began to pivot. Halfway through the rotation, she halted. A glow in the corner of her vision left her wary. It was blinding, more than the other auras she had seen. A pristine white, with no odd mixing of opposing colors. Part of her wanted to see more, the other part was attempting to ignore the churning in her stomach.

Curiosity --and the urge to not look like a crackhead who couldn't decide where they were going- won out.

She turned fully, staring at the side of a figure. Closer to the figure's body was the overwhelming radiance. The aura stretched outward, though, in a way she had never imagined one could. It was wispy, elegant. Looked almost like a wing.

Violet would've loved to think on that more. Would've called out, perhaps. Instead, she doubled over and began to puke out the cake, beer, and chicken fried steak she had eaten not too long ago.

---

With eyes widened, Aiden halted his stride. A peculiar woman had made herself known, and proceeded with such pleasantries once her dinner presented itself to the rain-soaked ground. One could only hope that too much of a good thing was what lead to her less than sublime state, but as Aiden watched the display play out, he found himself somewhat paralyzed. Fitting, indeed, but perhaps also a sign. This might very well have answered the question brewing within the teenager. Was he fully Angelic, only one point of interest would have lingered, which was wholeheartedly the mission at hand.

However, as Aiden’s feet brought him closer to the woman who had now slumped over, humanity shone brightly from within. Had the situation warranted less urgency, Aiden would undoubtedly have paused to ask Lumen why a small, tender smile found its way to his lips. It was one of pride. ”Yes, we ought to offer aid,” the Spirit commented.

”H-hey!” Aiden exclaimed, upon approaching the unfortunate sight. Little did he know that the source of this woman’s discomfort was the very boy attempting to present assistance. How did one act in a situation such as this? It was ironically the first time the Angel had come across another individual puking onto a sidewalk. ”Are you alright?” A foolish question escaped the boy’s lips, one which warranted an answer of silence as sight was surely enough to reveal reality. ”I mean..,” Aiden tried, ”do you.., do you need any help?” The fearsome, unyielding celestial warrior, uncertain and out of his depth. Yes, it was quite ironic. He was prepared to face a cult of bloodthirsty vampires, but one sick young woman caused him to stumble through his words.

---

Violet held up a hand at the sudden approach. She could see the white cast, even though she pinned her gaze to the puddle of vomit decorating the concrete. She must've looked just as trashed as Thane was. "Hey," she croaked out at last. "Thanks, dude, but I'm all good."

In all honesty, throwing up had made her stomach feel a bit better. Empty, at the very least. That being said, her vision was still spotty and the world was still swerving around her. She needed to close her eyes, calm down. Take her mind off her family and stress and focus on the boy trying to help her instead.

She planted her hands on her hips and began sucking in deep breaths. They tasted disgusting and burned her throat, but it was beginning to ease the pain in her scalp.

---

Not entirely unexpected, the woman’s answer was enough to maintain a short, if noticeable distance between herself, and Aiden. ”You’re.., vomiting like.., all over the ground,” he found himself saying, a slender finger motioning towards a rather disgusting puddle which by now had formed itself fully, with gut-wrenching aromas emanating from its discolored surface.

”Ah, splendid, she would not have noticed, without our inquiry,” Lumen added, the Angelic spirit trading his previously soft smile, for a more mischievous smirk. It warranted a small sigh from the boy, but Aiden was not going to argue. He had been singing all the wrong notes ever since this scenario began playing out.

”Sorry, I haven’t, uhm..,” the boy continued with the grace of a felled rhino. ”What do people usually do in a situation like this?” Claiming to be was far too rich, and Angelic to ever have witnessed such a lowly sight was perhaps not the best way to go about this display. ”I can.., call someone for you?” The statement managed to leave the boy’s lips in the shape of a question, more so than a steadfast suggestion, but at this point, Aiden had essentially abandoned the notion of vigilance, and confidence.

---

Another deep breath. Inhale, hold...exhale. She repeated the process several more times, until the glow was nearly gone and the world spun in a manner she found tolerable. She found herself leaning on the heels of her feet, and forced her body back into position. Popping an aspirin or two or three sounded incredible at the moment. Then again, perhaps taking one in front of this strange kid wasn't the best idea.

Speaking of the kid...

"I...uh, thanks." she managed a grateful nod. "But, no thanks. I'm already feeling a lot better. I just...get nauseous." She slowly edged away from the vomit, moving toward the side of a building.

"And, in situations like this? People usually just walk around the vomiting lady." A chuckle worked its way out of her throat. "But that's just the guys I know, I guess."

---

Colin’s fingers grasped at thin air, Vitius was gone.

He frowned at the strip of empty darkness where the vampire had stood. The space had twisted, as if the air itself had swallowed him whole. The portal hadn’t been Samael’s only means of transportation - he had ways to do it that didn’t let people follow him. Or…

Colin waved a hand round in front of him, waiting for the same tugging, gut churning sensation he’d felt as the portal swallowed him up. Nothing. His frown deepened. Was this Samael’s way of calling his followers back to him? It would make sense. But in that case, why did he leave the door open behind him when he left? It didn’t…

Colin’s stomach dropped.

For whatever reason, Samael wanted to be followed. He’d laid a trap, and Colin just ran straight into it. Straight after… Kiri.

Kiri who, first time he met her, had gotten one of their fellow recruits killed.

Who’d chewed him out for his hesitation in killing a spellcaster.

Who’d almost killed Eliza.

Had killed Colin’s uncle.

Was Kiri working for Samael too?

It would make sense. Someone on the inside, and what better bait than one of their own? There was no telling how many of their fellow hoods had followed after Colin, he’d been the quickest, he was the closest, and-

“I don't think there's anyone I trust more than you right now.”

-even after everything, he didn’t want to see her dead. Afterall, she was a hood. That meant something.

“Fuck.” he swore, knotted fingers in hair.

The word didn’t echo, but it felt like it should, the abandoned building so dark and cavernous that, before his eyes started to adjust to the gloom, to make out vague shapes and blotted out colours, it could’ve been anywhere. He had to focus. Even if Kiri was a traitor, Vitius could still come back at any minute. The damage was already done, the only thing Colin could do now was survive.

The bitter ache of his limbs was there, but it was very far away as he hauled himself to his feet, leaning on the wall for support. At some point, he was going to crash, he could feel it, but for now urgency spurred him on. Get away from Vitius, find Samael, keep fucking going.

In the back of his head, a voice, small and about to break, but filled with fire, reminded him, “Jobs not done.”

“Fuck you.” He hissed. Kept going. Another light, blindingly bright, whizzed past the door - black silhouettes etched into the walls, stark and strong, that faded just as quick. He squinted, what was that? He reached the door. He’d find out soon enough.

The door was painted wood, white and shiny at one time, but flaking. It was loose on its hinges, but a smooth metal bar crossed its width.

Cautiously, he pushed.

It swung open.

Cold air slammed into his face. Black sky, no stars, light everywhere. Buildings taller than Colin had ever seen, floor hard like stone, not cobbled like a road, but grey and granular and stretching on forever. He thought he’d still been in Duncaster, but clearly that wasn’t the case.

If this was the mage’s lair… what he was able to build… this was so much worse than they could have ever imagined.

In the distance, two figures. Impossible to see clearly, even with the pale glow illuminating the darkness (those lights were everywhere, what were they?). One looked like a young boy, not much older than the youngest of the hoods, the other a woman, hair bright and unearthly.

Lights dotted the windows in the buildings around him, shadows moved, people or monsters or what Colin couldn’t tell. Wasn’t sure he wanted to. Just how many minions did Samael have?

The woman and the boy seemed like his best bet. They weren’t ghouls, so they were probably vampires, if he followed them for long enough they were sure to lead him back to Samael. Metallic boxes, all different colours and cut with windows and bulky black wheels, (some form of carriage?) lined the road.

Quick as an arrow, he darted behind one of them. Crouched down and gripping at the cold, oddly slick, metal for balance, he could tell from here just how rough the strange ground was - what was the purpose of it? It didn’t matter. He had to get closer to the pair.

Slowly, he began to make his way from one strange metal carriage to another, closer and closer, careful to stay hidden.

---

”That sounds.., very human,” Aiden offered, before noting his own response. ‘Very human’. The statement lingered within his mind, and for a moment, Angelic arrogance might have taken hold. ”I mean,” the boy tried, once more, ”people can be dicks, right?” The second try might have strung along more fitting tunes, or at the very least, sounded less otherworldly. It was easy to forget that Aiden’s drastic change in species had left lasting psychological effects on the teenager.

”I think I saw something,” Lumen broke what was a short bout of silence, his hand nudging Aiden in response to the realization. It could very well have been a rat. Little more than quick movement whisking by, as if a passing breeze. ”I hope we haven’t been branded a quick meal for some hungry vampire,” the Spirit frowned, his eyes turning to Violet briefly, before shifting back towards an air of vigilance. ”I fear this girl would not appreciate such hostilities, especially not in her current state.”

Despite Aiden’s silence, an understanding between the two was clear. Duncaster was a dangerous place once a protective sunlit shroud gave way for darkness, and prolonged visits to the city’s night-time streets elevated risks of disaster by a large margin. ”I can’t just leave you here, at least let me take you home, or to a bar, or something.” In situations like these, Aiden’s lack of social skills involving ordinary people outside his circle of rich serpents, glowed brightly. ”N-not that I’m asking you out!” The boy raised his hands defensively, ”I’m just saying.., being inside is better at night.”

”This is going even smoother than with Rose. Honestly, if you weren’t gay, you’d forever live in isolation, Aiden,” the Spirit sighed, shaking his head.

---

Violet had two questions. First, how old was this kid? He looked fifteen at most, certainly not old enough to be entering a bar. And, while she enjoyed the odd beer or shot every now and again, she preferred her home over any of Duncaster's haunts.

Second, what was he? He tried to act human, but the way he carried himself, and his strange aura lead her to believe he was anything but. Then again..it was possible he was just uber pure, and hadn't had his aura tainted by color.

"That really means a lot...but, I think it's better for you to take care of yourself, kid." She gave him another wary once-over. He was tiny at best, and trying to lecture her about safety? What was he doing out and about?

Giving him a small wave, she began walking further away from her home. She took long, confident strides as if to say 'See? I got it covered.'

---

”S-sure, will do..,” Aiden attempted, but managed to stumble on his words as per expected. One would be forgiven for mistaking the teenager a completely different person when on the streets of Duncaster. Inside the glass tower of Infinity Enterprises, or when circled by serpents of wealth, he weaved through silver-tongued battlefields with professional grace. However, the boy was now clearly beyond his comfort zone.

He had not made his way to filthy streets with the intent of helping random girls with stomach issues, but rather, to hunt beasts. ”I’ll just keep going, then,” Aiden continued, thumbing over his shoulder before the boy resumed an earlier stride.

Perhaps it was better to simply avoid further confrontation. He was, after all, heading towards a lair of murderous vampires. The fact that something so trivial as a vomiting woman halted his progress was, in hindsight, foolish. ”You doubt,” Lumen spoke, ”looking after others is not a sin, Aiden.”

”But it can be dumb,” the teenager mumbled, in response. ”We wasted time, because of this.”

With a small sigh escaping the Angelic Spirit, Lumen shook his head. It was clear that Aiden was struggling. Every moment was a push closer towards a Celestial existence. The boy’s care for mankind, for all of humanity, could very well fade by virtue of his new nature, if he disregarded this drastic shift. ”Over there, we’re not alone!” Abruptly halting further conversation, Lumen revealed a newly arrived party, which was previously assumed a mere rat. However, prolonged patience exposed something far more urgent. It was impossible to deduce their intent, but assuming the worst was what denizens of Duncaster had been taught since birth.

Aiden spun on his heel, this new threat warranting immediate attention. ”Don’t turn your curiosity into a mistake,” the Angel clenched his teeth. It was far too early to conjure forth Ivory, if combat was imminent. He did not need the blade to fight, however, considering Aiden’s, or rather Lumen’s proficiency in unarmed combat. Even so, if this was a vampire, or a werewolf, the mere presence of something so purely Angelic was often enough to scare them off. ”So, stop hiding, and we can avoid something awkward.”

---

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Location
🌑 Bounty Hideout, 'The Den'.
🌑 Duncaster Streets.

Interactions
🌑 None.
🌑 Open for collaborations.

---

"Well if it ain't our lill' Guardian Angel, eh!?" A ragged voice echoed across old, metallic walls. It had once been a bunker, designed with nuclear war in mind, but would eventually find itself turned into something far more practical than mere defense, or the pursuit of survival. Laptops were haphazardly placed on large weapon crates, screens of varying sizes rowing several different venues of the small, and compact hideout dubbed 'The Den' by those who frequented its secluded interior. "Lookin' strappin' as eva', ya' Majesty," the man continued, a gestalt most were likely to avoid on the open streets. Riddled with scars, and obvious proof of experience, 'The Handler' had once upon a time donned the mantel of vigilante, until age finally caught up to him. A worn sofa cradled his rugged shape, and with a large knife in hand, the man playfully spun a sharp tip against his finger. Little more than a grin was necessary to reveal teeth now yellowed with time, and a lack of care.

"Stop calling me that," Aiden rolled his eyes, and shifted his attention towards the myriad of pictures nailed to bulletin boards hung on sterile, grey walls.

"Ay, which part? Cause' youse' high n'mighty, aintcha'? And most certainly one of em' richest blokes in th'city," The Handler chuckled before heavy military boots slammed down on the floor. He pushed himself up with a stretch, groaning slightly from the exertion, and pointed the combat knife at a laptop resting on the surface of an ammunition crate. "Y'here fer' some fun, dunno' why, considerin' all o'daddy's money."

"I have yet to ever grow used to this.., loathsome creature," Lumen pitched in, the creature's arms crossed in disapproval. However, the situation was quite simple. Without The Handler, or Steve, as was a much less intimidating alias, Aiden would have been roaming the streets of Duncaster aimlessly. They needed this man, if they were to actively make a difference. Despite being an Angel, Aiden was no hero, by any stretch of the imagination, which was something he often reminded himself of. He was simply a kid, trying to do good, but with no means of managing the feat on his own. Informants were needed, and The Handler was impressive, despite accommodations and appearance.

"I'm not doing this for money," the boy raised a brow, his eyes turning to scan a myriad of guns filling the bunker. Steve could equip a small army if he wanted to, and a vast majority of these weapons came from Infinity Enterprises, as was confirmed by their logo. Ironically, Aiden could not wield a single weapon afforded by his company, nor anyone else. Such was a price of his Angelic Pact. However, dressed in a black leather jacket along with matching cargo pants and a hood to hide the teenager's face would likely turn others away from his well-known visage. Aiden's mask did help in this regard, but where it painted the boy incognito, equally so, a masked individual was very peculiar, and warranted attention. Most of the time, he disregarded the mask, and rather maintained the use of a hood.

"Ain't tha' sweet of ye'?" The Handlar chuckled, "ah, well, better for me, ay'? Gets to keep all y'all earnins' for me lonesome," the man tapped his chest. "S'why I dare say, ya' get first pick!" Again, The Handler smirked, before he reached for a cigar, and promptly held the wrapped stick beneath an ember of his lighter. "Got ya' three Fangers, t'day," he explained, closing the lighter before Steve exhaled a cloud of smoke from between dry lips.

"No Werewolves?" A small grin bridged itself across Aiden's pale mouth, "that's a first."

"Wha' can I say?" Steve extended his arms and shrugged, "sometimes, em' puppies behave." Pinching the cigar between his fingers, Steve exhaled another misty breath, and continued, "drug dealer, trafficker, or serial killer, take yer' pick."

Pausing for a spell, Aiden considered his options. A vampire drug dealer was nothing new, and it was arguably the least urgent assignment, which someone else would undoubtedly deal with. A trafficker, however, involved far more sinister dealings, and yet, a serial killer found its way to the top. It was an understandable outcome, of course, and Aiden had made his choice. He was unsure of how many other freelancing hunters were of a supernatural origin, but a clear majority maintained pure humanity. Even so, in a place such as this, The Den, it mattered little what you were. As a person, you were measured by your actions, and nothing else. Though Aiden had never seen a Demon before, it wouldn't surprise him if Steve welcomed the alleged creature into his so-called 'Family of Hunters'. Used as a joke, more often than not, if one was to delve deeper into the man's customer demographic, a professional disposition would be found. Steve never spoke of other Hunters, and the man's venue was considered Neutral Ground amongst competing warriors. "The killer, who are we looking at?" Aiden asked, before Steve spun his computer around to show the target's extensive profile. It revealed a picture of the assignment, a beautiful, young woman, along with a respectable amount of information following.

"Name's Carmella Von Drach," The Handler stated, tapping his cigar over an ashtray, "bitch is old, has a bit of a followin'," he explained. "Er' lill' cult is set up right 'ere, in jolly ol' Duncaster. Abandoned Brewery." Steve moved the computer back, and as his fingers danced across the keyboard, Aiden soon felt his phone vibrating.

"Why is she killing?" The boy asked, reaching a hand into his pocket to lay eyes on the same information now sent to his handheld device.

"Get this, right?" The Handler's smirk grew wide, "bitch is tryina' appease some Demon shite'. S'what her whole cult's about. Whoda' thunk' those fuckers actually existed, eh?"

Scrolling down the profile on Aiden's phone, Steve's words were echoed by what was written. "If Angels exist," the boy raised his eyes to meet The Handler's, "it'd only make sense that our opposites do, as well." Turning to leave, the Angelic teenager offered his friend, if one was to call him that, a soft wave. Weightless steps then brought Aiden up a set of metallic stairs, until finally, he opened the door which led into one of Duncaster's countless back alleys. A serial killing Vampire cultist.., one would have hoped to say that this was an oddity, but alas, such was not the case in Duncaster City.

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Location
🌑 Restaurant Duncan.

Interactions
🌑 None.

---

"Aiden!" She was quite the stunning sight, without fault. Curly, golden locks made their way down her neck in perfect symmetry, with brilliant blue eyes shining like a sun-touched ocean surface. Indeed, the young woman's lithe figure was draped in a dress borrowing the sanguine hue of roses, displaying a frame most would consider athletic. Standing taller than Aiden himself was not a feat anyone considered impressive, but as her arms wrapped their way around the boy's slender torso in a tight embrace, the confirmation was made.

"Hey, Rose," the young Angel offered, displaying a small if forced smile in response to this most welcoming approach.

"Ah, Aiden," came another voice, this one belonging to the girl's father, Michael Henderson, the head of several pharmaceutical companies. One ought to have wondered why a manufacturing company for weapons such as Infinity Enterprises wished to gain pharmaceutical allies, and Aiden's skepticism had been clear since the very start of this odd partnership. "I am glad you could join us, son," the man continued, extending his hand to shake the Angel's before Aiden lowered himself to a chair. He needed only look at his parents to note their reaction, with the boy's mother tapping her wristwatch.

"Four minutes late," the woman stated, before reaching for a glass of wine which she then brought to her lips for a sip. "I hope this won't become a habit, Aiden," she raised a brow, and lowered the glass to a wooden table draped in expensive white cloth.

"That is quite alright, Mrs. Connors," Mr. Henderson retorted, offering the group a small chuckle. He was a larger man, with wealth clearly making its stride across habits and stomach, alike. It would not have been a stretch to consider the man jolly, for that, he truly was. One would have had quite a difficult time in pinpointing a single frown bridging across his thick lips. "We're all here now!" He continued, shifting his attention to Aiden's father who managed a sigh, in return.

"That, we are," Bradly spoke, "let us order, shall we?" Opening the menu revealed rows of appetizers, entrees, and desserts, all of which were accompanied by a price tag most would scoff at. Forty dollars for scollops as a mere treat before the actual eighty dollar meal, with a thirty dollar side was either less than a drop in the ocean, or an investment one would save up towards, for a romantic date. Yes, Aiden could still recall his first dinner with these specific patrons, his father, mother, Rose, and Michael Henderson. He could still pinpoint the moment he realized that it wasn't a mere dinner. It was a business transaction between two companies, and their products in question sat only inches away, at the very same table.

"How have you been?" Rose tried, an attempt at breaking the ice which was formed by the esteemed Bradly Connors, and his wife, Samantha Connors.

"Alright," Aiden spoke, tapping his dainty, slender fingers against the cold surface of his chilled drink. In truth, the boy had taken a liking to whiskey, but despite his circumstances, rules still applied. He was considered nineteen, even though he would technically remain sixteen for every year to come. "You?" the boy continued, tasting chilled excellence of a well-stored soda. At the very least, his parents had the foresight of ordering his favorite beverage. At times, it did surprise him how well the Connors couple knew their son, while also dismissing him, entirely. An odd combination, indeed.

"Oh, you know," Rose chuckled, "work," the young woman turned her attention to the large man at her side, revealing a pearly white smirk. "Because someone doesn't let his daughter have a single moment of peace," she laughed. It was clear that Rose and Micheal maintained a far more lovable relation that Aiden and his parents. Though, it would have been a lie to claim that the young Angel did not cherish the sight. It was a rare display, and solely desired.

"Oi'!" Micheal retorted, "business can't wait, love!"

Deciding to remain quiet throughout a large portion of the conversations finding themselves exchanged across the table, Aiden nursed his drink, which had been refilled twice by the time his company's appetizers arrived. Though he had been asked by the staff if he'd enjoy a soup, Aiden considered the notion, before declining the offer. For him, taste mattered more so than anything. He could not feel hunger, and he required nourishment much like a rock required water. "So, what about these 'vigilantes' running about?" Michael asked, cutting into the steak now placed in front of him. Despite his lack of hunger, Aiden could not deny the wonderful scent accompanying a well-cooked meal. For him, it could be compared to a perfume, a lovely aroma.

"If you ask me," Bradly responded, wrapping pasta strings around his fork, "the more of those freaks who kill each other, the better." He turned to look at Aiden for a brief moment following his statement, before clearing his throat. "The vampires," he tried, "and werewolves."

"Yeah, dad, wouldn't want any 'freaks' on the street." There was no malice in the boy's words as Aiden offered a response, but more a coy quip.

"Oh, hush, you know what he meant," Samantha nudged her son, dark eyes glaring at her kin with a sense of embarrassment filling them.

"Do I?" The Angel asked, clicking his short nails against the still chilled glass, "what would you consider me, dad?"

There was a slight pause that lingered across the table, but Bradly Connors had a response to his son's charged question. "A miracle, of course."

"Yes," Samantha added, "a miracle." It would not have been farfetched to point out that Aiden's mother, Samantha Connors was more of a snake than Bradly could ever hope to become. Every word dripped with venom, and while Bradly's focus remained on the numbers, hers was on public relations. One could imagine the lies and deception Samantha was privy to.

"Well, then, let's all raise our glasses, and toast," Michael spoke up, "to Aiden, and the miracle that saved our dearest son."

"To Aiden," Samantha raised her glass, followed by her husband.

With a deep breath, the Angel's attempt at changing the subject, if even by a simple margin, turned his eyes towards Rose. "What's your opinion of these 'vigilantes', Rose?"

"Hm," the young woman considered his question, a finger moving towards her chin. Much like her father, she had developed the habit, when in thought. "The Police have a lot of restrictions. Vigilantes might have their use, even if it's a slippery slope."

"While the less vampires are about, the better, they should leave the Police work, to the Police! We're the ones who arm them, for crying out loud," Bradly pitched in.

Following a prolonged exchange on the subject, Aiden turned his attention to the clock. He had been suffering through this dinner for the past two hours. If he excused himself, it would have brought ruin to the entire purpose of making his presence known, in the first place. It would have been as if he never even came. However, once dessert plates found themselves empty, relief eventually washed over the boy. This nightmare was coming to an end. "It was lovely seeing you again, Aiden," Rose spoke, as the group was moving towards the elevator. "Perhaps next time, we could try a dinner without the..," Rose cleared her throat in the silence of her whispered words, "extra scenery."

Feeling a hot sensation traveling towards his pale cheeks, the Angel paused in his steps. She had never been this forward, before. It was clear that the young woman was far more invested in this arranged relationship than Aiden was, and most certainly more so than he ever would be. "S-sure," he managed a stuttering response.

"Perfect," Rose smiled, offering their peers a quick glance, before noting that every back was turned. It was then that she brushed her lips against Aiden's in a quick, soft kiss, freezing her fiancé to the spot.

"Oh, wow, if you could crawl out of your skin, right now..," for the first time since dinner started, Lumen spoke. "Maintain yourself! Move your legs!" The spirit exclaimed, a hand moving to slap Aiden's shoulder.

Snapping out of the trance which he had been put under due to Rose's kiss, Aiden picked up his pace and followed her into the elevator. An awkward dinner with an awkward peak, for sure, but at the very least, he was now free. This was further elevated when he saw Charles waiting in the lobby, ready to take the Connors family home.

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Location
🌑 Aiden's Car.
🌑 Restaurant Duncan.

Interactions
🌑 None.

---

"It's not in the way that you hold me..!" Captivating lyrics flowed through the loudspeakers in Aiden's vehicle, caressing the sense of sound as Duncaster embraced sight with every mile. The boy was often chastised by his father for finding comfort in the front seat, an otherwise trivial manner most would consider less than an issue. However, as had been established, it was quite clear that Bradly Connors unearthed more disappointment in his son, than pride, as if the disposition was a conscious stroke. Those of wealth did not equal themselves with peasantry, a phrase the man had repeated more than once. As such, seeing Aiden's butler donning the position of driver at his side was considered distasteful. A proper passenger ought to have remained in the back. "It's not in the way you say you care!" Tenebro's hit single 'Hold The Line' continued to stream through the loudspeakers, and pale lips moved in motion with every word.

"It's not in the way you've been treating my friends..," Aiden sang, gently tapping his dainty fingers against the armrest.

"You changed your tune, Master Connors," Charles spoke, the elderly gentleman who had been seeing to the boy since Aiden's birth. Truly, the now teenaged heir to Infinity Enterprises considered Charles his family, more so than any of whom he shared blood.

"Nah, I'm still feeling like shit," came confirmation from the lad, "but, you know, if I'm going to hell, might as well enjoy the ride."

Unable to stifle a chuckle, Charles maintained his attention on the still rain-soaked road. "Ah, that is quite ironic coming from you, Sir."

Shaking his head, Aiden joined in on such festive reactions. "You never know, Charles. Dad really wishes he was the Devil."

Situations like these did cause the older man to grunt in approval, but voicing such a fact was quite dangerous for a butler. Indeed, he was technically hired by Bradly, not Aiden, even though such an issue could be rectified if the patriarch of House Connors did decide on such an act. Aiden had discussed the scenario, already, where he claimed that upon such finality, he would simply hire the man back. The boy was, after all, nineteen. He possessed his very own wealth, and could do with it as he pleased. "Well, Master Connors, here we are," Charles stated as he parked the car outside of Restaurant Duncan.

Truly, the building was a monument in itself. One would be foolish for assuming the whole complex a mere restaurant, however. Indeed, the penthouse was a building housing several businesses, with Restaurant Duncan offering its services on the top floor. Aiden would be willing to admit that high altitudes had become a norm, for the young man. Views stretching their way across the cityscape were more common than not, in his daily routines. "I'll see you soon, Charles," Aiden spoke, placing his slender hand on the door before pushing it open. "Think of me while you enjoy TeneFlix and a glass of whiskey.., a long sigh escaped the young angel's lips, "and I will try to survive this hellish meeting."

"You will do splendidly, Master Connors," Charles offered his charge a soft, if understanding smile. "Lady Rose is at the very least pleasant."

"It's my parents that I dread," Aiden finished, before offering his butler a quick farewell. They had previously made their way to the Connors Mansion for a change of clothes, which put pressure on maintaining adequate time. He would grant them that much, at least, even if a full suit stretched its way outside his preferred form of attire.

"Do you think they'll be aggravated? We are.., three minutes late." Lumen stated, his dimly radiant form making itself known as Aiden stepped through the lobby. It was as one might have suspected, architecture which would click against heels, with every step. Marble floors rowed the entryway, along with pillars of the same shape holding up an oil-painted ceiling. If Aiden wore anything but his soft canvas shoes, the boy's presence would be brought to the forefront, the moment he stepped passed guarded doors.

For one used to such sights, this presentation was considered part of the scenery, but it did not pass Aiden by, to appreciate the dedication and professionalism which had been poured into its construction. "They can kindly go and fuck themselves," the boy offered, his eyes meeting the Angel's, before turning to view the lobby receptionist. She only noticed his arrival once the teenager found himself in front of the large counter.

"Oh!" A surprised expression forced itself to her features, the receptionist attempting to gather her bearings, rather than focus intently on the screen in front of her, as she had previously done. "Sorry!" She tried, "Mr. Connors, correct?"

"It's almost as if you caught her sleeping," Lumen chuckled, rubbing his chin. "What do you think she was looking at?"

"Yeah," the boy offered, managing a small grin as he turned to Lumen, before shifting his gaze back to the receptionist. He was not going to chastise the poor girl, even if it had been within his nature. High heels and hard soles were likely the first indications which she had learned to react to, when those large, blue eyes were studying the likely myriad of numbers on that computer screen.

"I will notify Restaurant Duncan of your arrival, Sir! Please, head on up to the top floor, and they will show you to your table," she finished, appearing somewhat uncertain as she spoke to the young Celestial. However, when she earned a 'Thank you', followed by a pleasant, soft wave, the receptionist managed a breath of relief. It did not require much thought to imagine most of her interactions. Wealth offered with it piranhas, and it often robbed those it had claimed of humility.

Stepping into the elevator, Aiden offered the girl one last, and playful wave before the metallic doors came to a close. "She's new," he uttered, leaning against a polished wall. He had been to this venue often enough to know their receptionists, but this specific young woman had not presented this occupation, during any of Aiden's previous outings. Restaurant Duncan was, after all, his parents' favorite spot, and they were well aware of Aiden's condition, as one might say.

"And quite lovely, wouldn't you agree?" Lumen pitched in, revealing a somewhat more mischevious personality than he had displayed, earlier. This was nothing new, and Lumen was far less rigid than he sometimes advertised. It all depended on the task at hand, and as it was, Aiden did not assume the role of an anxious mess. Inevitable acceptance of the situation had seen to that.

"They'll eat her alive," came a response from the boy, before the elevator doors slid open, where he was immediately met by the soothing touch of piano strings. Taking a step forward, he felt the soft foundation of a carpet beneath his feet, and it did not take long before a waiter greeted him at the entrance. For an elevator to be the front door for a restaurant would likely have been considered odd, but not for this forum. Not for the upper class, and most certainly not for a scene which had been repeated far too often, for Aiden's tastes.

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Location
🌑 Infinity Enterprises.
🌑 Aiden's Office.

Interactions
🌑 None.

---

One could likely attest to a less than sublime workday, if observation of Aiden’s encounter spoke clearly, enough. Indeed, as the boy closed his computer, with another sigh escaping his lips, the teenager paused for a moment’s clarity. Perhaps Lumen was correct when speaking of freedom. A bench in the dark stretches of an abandoned subway appeared far more appealing, as dinnertime with Aiden’s esteemed future wife drew ever closer. He had met the girl, and she was far from a horrid sight. A polite young woman, raised well by her father whose wife had tragically passed, a handful of years prior. Claiming that she deserved better was nothing which had passed Aiden by unsaid.

“Let’s go,” the porcelain-skinned teen uttered, rising to his feet before weightless steps brought him closer to the door.

“What are your plans, Aiden? The thought is tearing at you.” Lumen proposed, the celestial creature tilting its head as four identical eyes met in a shared exchange.

Though a pause lingered, the teen would eventually speak. However, avoiding Lumen’s gaze was not an action which passed the angelic spirit by, unnoticed. “I don’t know, yet,” came an excuse, one which conjured forth an expression of sympathy upon Lumen’s features.

Moments breezed by, a warm hand finding home upon Aiden’s cheek, which was accompanied by further intimacy, as Lumen wrapped his arms around the boy, whose emotions were locked within a slender chest. Aiden argued that there was little room for them in a place such as this, where every emotional reveal could, and would be used against him. Clearly, this elevated the embrace which Aiden returned, his arms tightly wrapped around Lumen’s identical frame. “Your doubts are conspiring against you.” The angel’s soft voice trickled into Aiden’s ear, moments before their shared embraced reached its natural end.

“What, exactly, are our biggest problems, Lumen?” Came a question from the teenager. He had abandoned his previous path towards the door, and rather turned to once more gaze at the window. Duncaster was even more beautiful after a blanket of rain, where the following dispersion of clouds shone upon the city as if a second chapter, where darkness faded. “There are people out there struggling to survive, and I’m bitching because..,” he tried, clenching his teeth.

“Because you live in a gilded cage,” Lumen added, “but a cage, all the same.” No matter how one aimed to view this boy’s specific hardships, a consistent point of interest would remain his age. Aiden was but nineteen. A child, still, in the eyes of many. In truth, there was a morbid sense of relaxation closely related to Aiden’s previous illness. He would have been free of a life controlled by others. A slave draped in the most expensive silk, was a slave all the same. The requirement for food had been stripped of him, and immortality was granted in lieu of slow, deadly aging. Indeed, Aiden could wander the earth, if he so desired, in pursuit of ever-lasting knowledge, without fear of an unfortunate demise, and yet, he chose to remain shackled. “Comfort can be found behind bars, as well,” Lumen continued, his presence lingering at Aiden’s side. “Fear, it strangles you.”

“Yeah,” the teenager confessed, along with a shake of his head. “I’m afraid, because if I walk out that door, and decide to never return..,” silence struck, and the boy’s obsidian gaze maintained its glare at the unmoving obstacle keeping him where he was. “I don’t know if I’ll regret it..,” Aiden finished, his tune fading with every letter.

“No matter the creature, nor the intent, fear of regret is true for us all,” Lumen stated, a response that earned another exchange. Dark eyes met, before finally, Aiden turned on his heel pulled the door open, where he then proceeded to leave his office. This dinner he had been assigned was going to be awkward, and most certainly a trial. However, it was a duty Aiden had yet to escape, and yet to confront. He inhaled a sharp breath, and started towards the elevator. The boy had kept his driver waiting for long enough.

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

Location
🌑 Infinity Enterprises.
🌑 Aiden's Office.

Interactions
🌑 None.

---

There was a distinct disconnect between the many fabrics stretching their way across Aiden Connor’s lithe frame, a slender shape which was draped in expensive material, otherwise considered far beyond the mundane man. Of course, this boy, in particular, discarded the term ‘mundane’ by virtue of his continued existence, which but one man could attest to. A loyal butler, to whom the dark-haired gestalt was able to present unyielding trust. The same could not be said for present company, however.

Indeed, the dress-shirt which licked Aiden’s svelte body found itself mostly hidden beneath an elegant black vest. It was not a rare sight to behold sleeves rolled towards the elbows, but a pair of fingerless leather gloves donning dainty hands broke this otherwise professional approach. It was something which continued further down the boy’s petite presence, with a pair of ocean-blue jeans of a darker variant making their way to his legs, ending in converse shoes. Not even the expensive, and by most accounts, elegant tie around Aiden’s neck could possibly save him from the conversation now sprouted through the visual medium of his appearance.

“This has to stop,” a man spoke, his voice gruff and tired. One would be forgiven for mistaking him a frequent smoker, but such was not the case. Indeed, Aiden’s father, the esteemed Bradley Connors, was a conservative soul. With eyes fixed on the black nail polish upon his son’s dainty fingertips, a disgruntled sigh managed to escape the man’s weathered lips. “What are you trying to do? Is this a statement?” He continued, motioning towards the boy who was occupied with a laptop, occasionally wrapping those slender fingers around a chilled glass of soda.

“I return from the brink of death, and that is your agenda?” Finally, the boy responded, his voice a soft, melodic mix of androgyny, and serenity. Indeed, there was an air of regality circling this teenager, or rather, one who would appear far younger than he was. Even so, at nineteen there was still much for Aiden to experience and even more to learn. The boy’s large, dark eyes met his father’s, where a raised brow expressed subtle disapproval.

“We are all thankful for your recovery, Aiden.., whatever caused it,” Bradley frowned. He was unsure of what, exactly, had come to pass which left his previously ill son a now healthy, and apparently immortal specimen. It was a conversation which had been repeated ad nauseam, and Aiden would not discard the notion of it finding a way into the limelight, yet again. “But that is behind us, you must start taking this seriously! Other board members are asking me if my son’s a..,” Bradley paused, clenching his teeth.

“Would it matter?” Aiden asked, his eyes returning to the computer screen. An experienced gaze could undoubtedly understand the myriad of numbers, lists, and statistics displayed before him, but for those unfamiliar with such a sight, the conclusion can be drawn that they were all related to less than entertaining duties. “You did sell me off to a man’s daughter, like a piece of meat,” the boy spoke, clearly unafraid of expressing himself, “what does it matter what I am? To you, I’m a resource.”

“That’s enough!” Bradley slammed his hand onto his son’s desk, before rising to his feet, “get yourself in order! Tonight, you’re having dinner with that ‘girl’, and you’ll look your best.”

There was a short pause that lingered between the two, father and son staring each other down. Bradley was well aware that Aiden could, in fact, not eat. Whatever had happened to his son, whatever spell had been cast on him, changed the boy. Yes, his personality had remained the same, unaltered. However, the boy’s body was different, even if those changes were invisible to the naked eyes. “You have a meeting to attend,” Aiden finally uttered, his frown now more visible, before Bradley Connors turned on his heel and left the boy’s office, slamming the door in his wake.

“I fucking hate that man,” Aiden sighed, running his fingers through a set of raven-black bangs. He proceeded to rest his elbows against the lacquered mahogany surface of his desk, before feeling a warm hand gently finding its way to his shoulder.

It was soon accompanied by a ghostly if soothing voice. “It breaks my heart to witness, Aiden.” As if a perfect reflection of the boy, an angelic manifestation of the teenager, the Celestial spirit who had introduced himself as Lumen during their first meeting made himself known. “Why remain shackled to these shores?”

“Bonded for years and you’re still talking like that?” A quiet chuckle managed to escape the teenager’s slender, pale lips, as if his demeanor had changed in an instant, at Lumen’s presence. Of course, the angelic being was never truly gone, but solitude with the spiritual entity was always a welcomed addition. Aiden would proceed to push his office chair back, and stood with a stretch. He needed only turn to witness the beauty of an entire city stretching its way across the vast distance, a large window allowing view of the display from the top floor, where he was situated.

“Years cannot erase an eternity,” Lumen offered, his arms moving to gently wrap their way around Aiden’s waist. “Tis’ a beautiful sight, isn’t it?”

“Maybe one day, I can enjoy it,” Aiden responded, revealing a small smile which was reflected in the window’s surface. “You know why I can’t just up and leave, Lumen. Where are we supposed to live?”

Releasing the boy, Lumen moved to Aiden’s side, the spirit’s feet never quite touching the floor as he casually floated above such mundane venues. With one foot in front of the other, the Angel’s hands gently rested behind his back, as those dark eyes proceeded to imbibe in a breathtaking display. It was only elevated by soothing music which had been trickling through the room throughout the day, cords from a lounge of relaxation. “This dinner, will you attend its dreaded invitation?”

“Do you have an excuse in mind? I’m all ears,” Aiden smirked, reaching for his drink before gently clicking his fingers against the cold glass surface. “Got any Demon Extract we can drink?”

Unable to hide his laughter, Lumen shook his head, “I think it best to attend, Aiden. Following the grueling experience, we can head out and engage in more preferred activities,” he explained, “like hunting monsters eagerly feasting on innocent flesh.”

Raising a hand to playfully nudge the Angel, a species Aiden now shared with the creature, he joined in Lumen’s hearty chuckles. Yes, their situation was quite unique, indeed, one which could hopefully find itself developed into a less strenuous experience, with time. As of now, however, it was a battlefield contrasting the boy’s life with a sword quite well.

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

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The Red Hoods: Rebirth

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My 'Hero' Academia - The World Will Be Ours

Actually, I am going to have to drop out. I ended up having my hands more full than I thought. Terribly sorry about that. I wish you all good luck.

The Red Hoods: Rebirth

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