Chattering Monkeys

Camo · Joined: 24 Apr 2007 Posts: 15

The sounds of traffic. The feel and smells of crowds of people, all living practically on top of each other. The dizzying rush of colors. The taste of pollution in the air. Mortality.

It was always a shock to return to the living realms, Ashrial noted. Everything happened so quickly. Birth, life, and death occurred in rapid succession, each on the heels of the former. Odd how humans never seemed to notice. It was as though they felt their time on this plane was eternal, but what did they know of eternity in this fleeting existence?

“Out, out, brief candle!” she murmured to herself. The bard’s verses were crude compared to the hymns of the seraphim, but they had a rich, simple, living ring to them. She remembered when Shakespeare’s plays first appeared on the stage. She had only been an Angel of Death for a short time, and had often been distracted by mortal amusements.

That had been centuries ago, in human time, but it hardly seemed so long to her. It seemed to Ashrial that in the span of days cars had replaced horses and humans had captured the light of day, preventing their cities from ever descending into night. It was supposed to be night now, but the metropolis she had emerged in was as bright as noon.

The angel turned her face to the heavens, but all she could see was the inky blanket of space. The light of stars could not penetrate the false illumination of the mortal city. Her smooth dark hair fell across her shoulders like rich black velvet, and her flawless skin almost seemed to glow in the artificial light.

Bringing her gaze back to earth, Ashrial looked over herself. She was wearing military style boots, form-fitting camo-print cargo pants, and a dark green tank-top. The soft feel of her wings at her shoulder blades had been replaced by the rough feel of the fabric of her trenchcoat. She knew her wings had retracted into her back, and would appear as human tattoos. Her silver halo was still suspended about her brow, just above her ears, which were pierced at the lobe and the left cartilage. Only those who were close to dying or stained by death would see it though.

Sighing, the angel walked down the sidewalk. Her boots thumped against the concrete, and the feel of hard earth beneath her made her think wistfully of her wings. She could use them, if she wished, but it would have been unwise to sprout wings in the middle of a crowded city.

Mechanical Bunny · Site Admin Joined: 19 Apr 2007 Posts: 223

His breathing was heavy.

It always was when he saw someone he was fated to talk to, to be with. It was fate that he was walking on the same sidewalk as she, in the same city, at the same time, and moving close r and closer to her by the second.

It was one of those days he felt very lonely after coming home from work. He had changed to normal clothes and then gone to look for someone to be with. The usual ladies were paid to be with him, but that was okay... At least when he was with them he could forget about his boring job and miserable life and not remember a thing at all. The black-outs scared him a little bit, but they were too much of a relief to stop his obsession with seeing prostitutes.

This woman, however, was not a prostitute. Still, he felt like he was fated to be with her.

Jacob put his hands in his pockets as he strolled closer. Now that she was only a few feet away he actually looked into her face and saw it really for the first time. A glow lit it up, which came from a ring encased around her head, snug as a hat. It was quite a bizarre thing to wear; it didn't match her other clothes. Perhaps she was coming from a rave.

Jacob walked in front of her and stopped when she was still a few steps away. "Excuse me, miss, do you know where the Comfort Inn is around here?" He smiled politely, still relaxing his hands in his pockets, his long sleeves covering his arms completely. His eyes were a brillant, beautiful bright blue that gave him a congenial demeanor.

Camo · Joined: 24 Apr 2007 Posts: 15

Ashrial barely noticed the man standing in front of her until he said something, as she had been lost in thought. Blinking, she looked at him for a moment as she disentangled herself from her prior web of thoughts and contemplated his question.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t,” the angel replied, giving an apologetic smile. “Sorry.” Despite her smile, she couldn’t help but feel that there was something… off about the man in front of her. She wasn’t God; she couldn’t see into his soul and discover his sins, but even as a human, she had been a good judge of character.

Or at least, she was pretty sure she had been. She couldn’t remember her time on Earth as a mortal. It seemed to her that she had died young, before her time, but when she had entered the after-life, all that had come before it had disappeared from her memory. At first it had bothered her, but over the centuries she had come to accept it. In any case, it was probably for the best. Human memories and emotions would only distract her from her duty.

Even though the man made her a bit uneasy, Ashrial felt that she should give him a chance. "I've got a couch in my apartment, though," she offered. "You can crash there for the night, if you need somewhere to stay." As an angel, she didn't really need an apartment, but it was nice to have a place where she could be alone and quiet.