Myth!AU - O' Death

[sword_breaker]

[There's a slight wind to give signs that colder weather was going to hit the city at some point but otherwise the chill didn't faze many much with the sun pouring down rays without any resistance from white wisps streaking across blue. Another busy work day for most people as they packed the sidewalks in order to accomplish whatever the day asked of them to do, some of them heading off towards lunch break even as the afternoon brought along ease in traffic after the rushing around or rather dead still in the morning commutes that always came like clockwork. The towering skyscrapers piercing above while scattered about were busy shops and apartment complexes ranging to the higher end of the spectrum, fortunate for several residents of them being close to where they worked usually.

However it didn't matter much to the man lying face first towards the blue in an alley, red bursts staining his shirt in an act of fatal defiance against the fabric. He wasn't caring about anything anymore. Pools of crimson have congealing into a sticky mess at his side to keep company with the broken body though it was a waste honestly. A barrier of yellow and black tape announcing the crime scene as if the body and the blood weren't enough already to do so. Officers scurrying about to comb through every little thing in order to scrounge up evidence ranging from fingerprints to shell casings while a medical examiner started jotting down notes as though it were a race.

To be fair, it was a race that was ticking away for all of them but yet he didn't exactly have to put so much effort into finding out the who, why and whatnot of this particular case. Never really showed interest in the exact details of a person's death as it wasn't under his job description nor would he if paid enough, more so content enough with the tasks that were scheduled for him to do. He sends a confirmation of his arrival with a quick text before stowing away the smart phone into his back pocket and assessing the fussing police. No doubt Matthieu was going to blow his phone up with messages after getting the answer but that could be ignored.

Passing underneath the tape, the man eased through the scene with no problems coming from the uniformed others. Though that was the point of having such a decent illusion in order to essentially make him invisible, allowing a much easier time accomplishing his tasks without the stupid questions that would be raised at his presence much less what he would do here. He had the slight frown that could've been considered appropriate for the situation but the claw marks and irrevocably damaged right eye would certainly cause a more sinister thought process to occur. Maybe even be considered as a hit man that had down the crime but to be fair he didn't hunt unless told otherwise and certainly not boring humans such as this idiot. Besides a man decked in a suit stood out in this mess with much help to his disregard of everything save for the dead man who certainly was still brimming with the confused energy of a trapped soul. Definitely need to rectify that.

James crouched down right next to the examiner and fished out a knife before making an incision right at the heart before reaching down to draw out the reluctant soul. The reaper was only doing his job and besides no one was going to see him do his work, not the police nor the surrounding crowd of onlookers.

He was looking forward to the break after this one, sneak away towards his usual haunt; a coffee shop that boasted fantastic blends that were more so a necessity at this rate rather than a mere commodity and plus the perfect spot he claimed by the window in order to watch the world keep moving. The energy from the illusion would be easily restored during that. Then it would be another one in midtown before being able to return back home for the day and unwind. That or check with the bar to make sure a friend or two didn't snoop around more than they should. The former was going to be the most probable though so he shows the other idea to the back of his mind before focusing.]

Comments

[fatebringer]

Suppose it's a good thing I know how to warm you back up if it ever does happen. Never been called a storm before. Not recently.

[A flicker of a smirk flashes into existence. He was always so quick to affection that it was always so amusing how it clashed with the image he tried so hard to upkeep.]

Whatever makes you feel good, mutt.

[impossiblemachines]

Ah, but the likeness is so striking. Powerful, dangerous, beautiful- I fail to see how there could ever be a difference.

[He grins toothily, though it's hidden as he presses a kiss to the crown of her head.]

Many things make me feel good, little fae, but I would be certain that there's a rather certain one that does the job better than all the rest.

[fatebringer]

Storms tend to do more harm than good. You do know that, right?

[She was all for being called dangerous but on such a destructive level? Certainly garnered a raised brow from her.]

It helps to have such a vocal mutt.

[impossiblemachines]

Hm, no. As I said, beautiful,

[He presses another kiss to her temple.]

powerful,

[And yet another to the tip of her ear.]

and fierce.

[There's amusement in his tone, and he's grinning as if he's said something incredibly clever.]

Only fools who think to try to control the storm find themselves utterly obliterated in its wake.

[fatebringer]

[She's still not all for being associated with a natural disaster but there was no real use in arguing over such a minor thing. For now, he can get away with it.]

Let me guess, you're not a fool, hm?

[impossiblemachines]

I would claim as such.

[He's still affectionate in the aftermath though, nuzzling at her temple with a low noise.]

[fatebringer]

Well...I could agree with that but sometimes there is quite the argument for the opposite. It depends on the day.

[Always with the nuzzling. She winds her fingers in his hair to coax him down for a kiss.]

Usually you're good though.

[impossiblemachines]

Well, then I'll just have to strive for perfection between the days.

[But his kiss is soft and sweet, and there are more tender emotions poured into it than he'd ever have the ability to express in mere words.]

[fatebringer]

Perfection is such a useless ideal let alone one that is predominantly unobtainable. It's boring. I'm rather fine with your small hiccups.

[Besides he can be a certifiable asshole at times but he made up for it in the majority. She'll count herself lucky for getting apologies sometimes.]

[impossiblemachines]

Mm, I do suppose that it's the unknown that makes things exciting.

[Another little stroke to his ego, and he nuzzles down into the crux of her shoulder.]

I am a lucky sort then, to have caught your favor.

[fatebringer]

Predictability gets rather old after so long. Variables are what makes things interesting and fresh.

[She cards her fingers through his hair, smirking.]

You've earned it. Luck merely played its part.

[impossiblemachines]

Ah, so then you'd prefer if I were wild? No rhyme or reason, unpredictable as the wind.

[He can't help but lean into the touches with a pleased noise.]

[fatebringer]

As long as you don't land yourself in trouble, I would be fine with that. There are rules after all. Both my own and the balance keepers'.

[impossiblemachines]

Ah yes. I think I rather enjoy your rules. Not so much those of the balance keepers'.

[fatebringer]

They are still rules that must be followed. Especially since two such balance keepers are in my pack so you're going to have to learn to deal with it. No negotiations on that either.

[A kiss being pressed to his forehead before she leans back against the counter.]

[impossiblemachines]

[He sighs over-dramatically, but ultimately relents, leaning in to place a hand beside her's on the counter. It isn't so much a pin as it is a continued desire to remain close; besides, he's quite certain she always could break away, no matter what the situation.]

I follow your rules, little fae.

[fatebringer]

[She cocks her head at the closed distance but doesn't fight against it in the end.]

And so you do, mutt. Most of the time rather well.

[impossiblemachines]

I do try. At least for you.

[The words are punctuated by a quick, stolen kiss.]

[fatebringer]

So you do. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get comfortable until dinner.

[She presses a kiss to his cheek before slipping away and back towards the bedroom. There was time left to burn so a shower was in order as much as comfortable clothes. The wolf would live without her presence for a bit.]

[impossiblemachines]

Ah yes, we wouldn't want to put a delay in that.

[But when she's firmly out of sight he sighs, running a hand through his hair. After a few moments of standing aimlessly amidst the kitchen, alone and as bare as the day he was whelped, he pads back to her room and sets about pulling his pants back on. Just the pants, the shirt could wait.

And then he stretches out across the bed with a contented noise, eyes lazily slipping shut as he dozes lightly.]

[fatebringer]

[The warm water was a welcome feeling after the long hours at the bar. It takes a bit longer to slowly work through the multitudes of bites and small scratches. The only real chore when dating a wolf.

Humming to herself and refreshed, she slips into the bedroom and smiles at him dozing. Moving quietly she starts combing through drawers...but not before throwing one of her secret weapons. A squeaky toy. It makes loud defiant squeaks as it bounce along the living room floor.]

[impossiblemachines]

[The patter of falling water is enough to lull him into relaxation, and he very nearly allows himself to catch some rest. It's a good lull in the action of the night, and he's appreciative of it because he's needed time away from the bustle and chaos of the day for quite some time.

And then the quiet is shattered by an obnoxious set of squeaks from somewhere to his left.

It's completely instinctual, the way he momentarily perks as his attention is immediately drawn to the noise. The calm reverie that he had been enjoying is shattered, and though it takes only half a second for him to get control over himself again he's been thoroughly disturbed from his respite. With a low grumble under his breath he grabs one of the fey's pillows and buries his face into it, trying in vain to seek out the calm of minutes before.]

[fatebringer]

[Well that wasn't exactly what she had been hoping for but that only means that she needs to use even more of the noisy ammo stashed in a box on the dresser. Soon enough there's simply a barrage of squeaks and grunts heading into the living room as more of the toys are thrown.]

[impossiblemachines]

[The first few defiant squeaks are possible to ignore, even if it takes extra effort to bury his head further into the pillow. The continuous cacophony, however, proves too much.

There's a flash of movement as he caves and springs up, form warping and shifting until there's a clatter of nails as he hits the floor running, snout curled in a fierce snarl as he dives after the monstrous pile of toys that's begun to build up. The first one he snatches gives a pitiful dying noise as he grabs it in his jaws and worries at it, keeping it in place with both front paws and a flurry of snorts and snarls as he works.]

[fatebringer]

[And it looks as though she is indeed the winner in the end.

Dropping the towel once he skitters out after the toys, she pulls on comfy clothes before heading out to check over the food. However not before scratching behind the large wolf's ear as he tears at the toy fiercely. Such a dork.

Then it's onto pulling out the food and turning off the oven.]