andothersuchphrases: Woman's silhouette on stage (I'll top the bill. I'll earn the kill.)
[personal profile] andothersuchphrases
This just came to me while Jae and I were having our nightly writing war, because I've been nesting in 'verses I have no business nesting in.

Have an out of context rough draft snippet, guys. Don't say I never give you things. (Misha's name is subject to change. This was just on the fly writing to get a feel for this 'verse.)

"You best watch yourself," Mischa said, sliding onto the log beside Cal with his stew, as if he'd been invited. "They say the children of Coyote roam this desert."

Cal immediately looked to Tashriel, like he'd prove this statement true or not, but he wasn't paying attention to either of them, choosing, instead, to flirt shamelessly with one of the native women. Something about it made Cal bristle and the only thing that brought her out of it was Mischa merrily blathering on, completely oblivious to her discomfort.

"They've heard them howling. They shed their human skins and run around in packs."

"Those are just regular coyotes, Mischa," one of the village children- a wide-eyed girl with her black hair in plaits- interjected. "You've been listening to Grandfather's stories too much."

"Grandfather doesn't believe they're stories, Lise," Mischa shot back, waving his spoon about in protest so much that droplets of broth landed on Cal's pants and she immediately set to trying to rub the offending liquid away before it stained. "And he knows everything."

"Grandfather," Cal repeated. "Is he...?"

"Yes, he's like you," Mischa grinned toothily, revealing that he was missing a couple of teeth towards the back. "A real live angel."

You say that like they're uncommon, Cal thought bitterly. Perhaps it was just as Tashriel had said- angels don't think of themselves as angels anymore and even if you can throw a rock and probably hit one of them, the chance of them being anything like what angels used to be is slim. "I think I need to meet Grandfather," she announced, noting that Tashriel was still occupied with his flirtation. At any rate, talking with this Grandfather character might point her in some direction. There had to be some reason why they were here in this village, after all, and if Tash was going to busy himself with the locals, then it was up to her to actually do something.

Lise and Mischa stood up at the same time, "I'll take you to him," they chorused and then glared at each other.

"Lise, you have chores," Mischa glowered.

"You're not finished with your dinner," Lise snapped. "I can do my chores after I drop her by Grandfather's tent."

"I can eat and walk!"

Rather than let this continue, Cal just rolled her eyes and walked off, leaving them to continue bickering until they realized she wasn't standing there anymore, which, thankfully, took enough time that she was halfway across the village by then. She asked one of the vwomen where to find Grandfather's tent and was immediately pointed in the right direction, no questions asked. The tent was largest one in the village and would have been easy to find, even if she hadn't asked. As she approached, she noticed the way people mulled about in front of it as if they just wanted to be close, but were too afraid to go inside, while she just walked towards it as if it were nothing, hesitating once she got to the door as if expecting someone to call her back, but no one did.

Of course not. He's an angel. Angels aren't easily killed. And we're supposed to be kin after all.

She pulled aside the flap and stepped inside and was greeted to the sight of a being that couldn't rightly be called anyone's Grandfather. He looked as young as she did with scraggly brown hair and a pair of reading glasses, and seemed oddly small seated on piles of furs. Nestled in his lap was a laptop computer, which seemed oddly anachronistic in this village and threw her for a loop more than his appearance did.

"....You're Grandfather?" She blurted out without even thinking about the respect and reverence she should probably have drummed up for this conversation.

Grandfather looked up at her from above the laptop and slammed it shut, swearing in Enochian- she hadn't heard that language since before the original Fall and it was hard to believe she could still remember what swearing sounded like in it. "You're an angel. A real one."

"One of the last or so they keep telling me," Cal shrugged. Maybe if he looked older, she could drudge up some respect, but he seemed so young to her. To everyone else here, he must have seemed like a god, just as she and Tashriel had.

He removed his glasses, shaking his head in disbelief as he got to his feet. "They said you were here. I thought they were lying. Even the fake ones seem real to them. Which... One are you?"

"Calliel," she answered, before adding, "...Mostly, it's Cal these days."

Grandfather stepped forward. "They said there were... Two of you, right?"

"Tashriel is the other," she started, but the minute the words were out of her mouth, Grandfather was up and moving out of the tent, ignoring her protests that he wait and moment and explain what the hell he was doing. She followed him out with an aggravated groan, running to catch up, and by the time she reached him, he was already approaching Tashriel and the woman he was flirting with.

"Warden," Grandfather said in a tone that suggested a certain familiarity.

Tashriel looked up, looked away, and then did a perfect doubletake. Slowly, he rose to his feet and just stared at Grandfather, while the whole village (or so it seemed to Cal) looked on with a mixture of awe and, in some cases, fear. There was silence for a moment until finally, Tashriel's face broke out into a wide smile, "Hi, Tabris."

And then he promptly punched him in the chin.

I'm not lying. There will be SOME SORT OF BRIDGE-DROP ON HIM. Hopefully, by now you know which one I mean. :|
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