Supernatural/Tales of Symphonia: Angels
Wrote this fic a few weeks ago (? I lose track of time easily) and decided to go ahead and post it here. It was prompted by a user on DA called Lizeth, and it's now her fault I'm plotting rampant Supernatural plotbunnies. You can blame her for everything~
Title: Angels
Series: Supernatural/Tales of Symphonia
Pairing(s): None
Warnings: Mild season 1 spoilers for Supernatural. Endgame spoilers for Tales of Symphonia.
Summary: Not all angels are heavenly, or earthly, or even hellish... but hey, at least the "flaming sword" part was right.
The forest at night was eerily quiet, the only sounds those of two young men creeping through the silent trees. They themselves made hardly a sound despite the crusty underbrush of fallen leaves, the trees about them readying themselves for winter. Twin trails of white vapor rose through the air and dissipated, one appearing more often than the other, as the two men stalked through the vacant forest as ghosts on the wind.
“Dean, be careful,” one figure said, breaking the silence of the night. “There’s a cliff around here that the locals say can catch hikers by surprise.”
The other figure, Dean, rolled his eyes. “You’ve told me that a hundred times tonight and we haven’t found a cliff yet.”
“Still, these kitsune are masters of illusion, they can trick you…”
“Fine, fine, I’ll be careful Sam. It’s not like I wouldn’t notice stepping out into empty air… How the heck did a Japanese spirit get all the way to middle America, anyway?”
Sam shrugged, hefting his shotgun as he peered around a tree trunk. “A lot of Japanese immigrants settled the surrounding area. Maybe one of them brought it?”
Dean scoffed. “This is that pagan god thing all over again, isn’t it?”
“Not necessarily. The kitsune might not be tied to any one thing, and I’m pretty sure we can kill it. We have those spells we looked up, and rock salt should slow it down at least.”
Dean shook his head. “Spells. Right. Little slips of paper that I could munch on for breakfast…”
There was a rustle nearby, and both men pivoted towards it, guns at the ready. Sam slipped a hand into his pocket and withdrew several slips of white paper, dark characters inked into them. Neither of them said a word, advancing on the disturbance with practiced caution.
The underbrush exploded suddenly, and Sam fell backwards ungracefully, just avoiding a faded orange blur that leapt straight for him. It landed right next to his head and he got his first good look at his and his brother’s target for that night. It was a small creature, about the size of a large dog, with orange fur but white paws. It could have been any other fox, aside from the three tails that it had, tipped in the same wispy white fog that its feet emanated. Intelligent green eyes surveyed the two men before it opened its mouth and spit white fire at Dean. It was avoided, Dean swearing profusely, and by the time he’d swing back around the kitsune was gone.
Sam scrambled back to his feet and pivoted, looking for any sign of their target. “Did you see where it went?”
“No, was too busy trying not to get roasted. So that’s how it got its victims, huh?” Dean brought his gun back up and imitated his brother, sweeping the area slowly. “I guess it’s one creature that doesn’t like raw meat.”
“That’s gross, Dean,” Sam muttered distastefully before catching a glimmer in the darkness. “There!”
They raced forward as quickly as they could without making a lot of noise, advancing on the kitsune. As they approached they thought they heard someone else coming, eliciting a swear from Dean. They did not need a civilian stumbling across this thing! They broke into a run and came into a clearing, Dean firing at the fox as soon as it came into view. It keened and vanished into smoke. A human yelp alerted them to the presence of another person, and Sam ducked around Dean to check that the bystander was okay.
“You could warn a person first!” the bystander yelled, shaking a fist at them angrily. The sudden sound after all that silence made the brothers wince but Dean kept his gun up, sweeping the area to watch for the kitsune’s return. Sam reached the stranger and helped him up.
“Sorry,” Sam apologized. “We heard someone coming but it sounded like you were farther away…” He released the stranger and stepped back, getting his first good look at the guy. “… Is that a sword?”
The teen nodded, falling into a battle stance and glancing about warily. Sam noticed the other sword then, a shimmering blue sword that he could swear was dripping water into the brown leaves beneath them. The first sword, the one closest to him, was glimmering orange-red, the light dancing beneath the surface as if it were lit from within by an ever-present fire, and Sam could feel sweat gathering under his collar from the heat the thing seemed to be giving off. The swords’ wielder was also unusual, an older teen by Sam’s estimation, dark hair brushed upwards off his head and eyes glittering in the night. He wore a red jacket with brown gloves, suspenders on the outside of them holding up his brown pants, and a white scarf protected his neck from the night’s chill. Sam noticed that the glove closest to him, on the teen’s right side, had a small hole cut out, leaving a gem on the boy’s hand exposed to the night.
“Yeah, it’s a sword,” the boy answered, scanning the area. “The monster’s not gone yet, though, so pay attention! Can you cast magic?”
That was an odd question, to say the least, but Sam showed him the spell papers he’d made. “I have these. They’re supposed to be able to kill the kitsune. Have you been hunting it too?”
“Kind of. I came into town last week because a friend of mine asked me too, said a monster from my world had come into yours… But enough talking! The monster’s still around!”
Sam shut up and scanned the area, noticing that Dean had wandered off but was still visible through the trees. “I’m Sam Winchester, by the way,” he said quietly. “That’s my brother Dean. We’ve been hunting this thing for the past few days, it’s been killing people.”
“And eating them,” the teen added grimly. “I’m Lloyd Irving. It’s still around here, just waiting…” And that was all he said, the two of them surveying the night silently. Their vigil was rewarded, another keening cry warning them just before a burst of flame exploded from the underbrush. Lloyd swung the flame sword and knocked the attack away, Sam ducking under his arm and firing a shot of rock salt at the spot the fire had come from. The fox came into view, swaying dangerously, and Sam jumped at the opportunity to finish it off. He brandished his spelled papers and spoke the activating words, stumbling a bit over the unfamiliar phrases. His mishaps didn’t affect the spells, much to his relief, and wind rushed around the kitsune, the binding spells pressing it to the ground while the banishing spell sent it away. Its keening faded as it did, and the night was suddenly deathly quiet, just Sam breathing heavily while the teen sheathed his swords.
“Nicely done,” Lloyd said, stretching and popping his knuckles. “That was easier than I thought it’d be. Your spells really helped a lot!”
“I’d have been toast without you,” Sam admitted. Something was nagging at him, though, an important fact that he should be remembering, and he frowned, turning towards where he’d last seen his brother. “Hey Dean!”
Suddenly there was no ground under his feet and he was falling, the wall of the cliff the only thing he could see to his left. He was too far away to hope to get a handhold, not with the ground racing up to meet him far more quickly that he’d have thought possible. He looked up and saw his brother’s stricken face, an arm dangling over the side.
Something grabbed him then, his stomach plunging even as he jerked to a stop, and Lloyd’s voice was shouting at him to hold on tight. He wrapped his arms around the teen like his life depended on it, staring in wonder over Lloyd’s shoulder at the glittering wings emerging from the teen’s shoulder blades. They looked like crystalline light, extending out of his field of vision, and they were carrying him and Lloyd towards where Dean had been left on the cliff.
“What the hell?” Sam heard Dean swear as they reached the top of the cliff and landed, staggering a bit. It took him a moment to register the ground under his feet, but once he did he jerked away from Lloyd, taking in the full extent of the wings folded against the teen’s back. “Sam, what the hell is he?!”
Sam sighed, turning to his brother and deadpanning, "Dean, he's got a 12-foot wingspan. What do you think he is?"
Dean whipped his gun up and pointed it at Lloyd, face hardening. “He’s not human, I’ll give him that.”
“Whoa!” the teen in question yelped, wings fading as he ducked off to the side and drew his swords. “Who’re you calling not human? I just saved your brother’s life!”
“That’s a point in his favor,” Sam agreed, trying not to remember the feeling of impending doom as he plummeted to the ground. “Dean, be cool, okay? If he wanted to hurt us he’d have done it already.”
“But he’s got wings, Sam!” Dean protested.
“And again, he saved my life. So let’s just play it cool, okay?” Sam soothed. “Let’s go grab a drink or something. The kitsune’s dead, we’re not, and we can swap stories, okay?”
“Ah, sorry, I can’t,” Lloyd said sheepishly, scratching his head. “See, with the monster dead, I’ve got to get going. But I’m human, honest. These wings… well, I went through a lot to get them, and the angels I met weren’t very helpful in that respect. Actually,” he mused, “they tried to kill me. A lot.” He shrugged. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you, Sam, Dean. Good luck next time!”
And with that he brought his swords together. Sam thought he saw them flicker, another sword taking the place of the fire and water blades, and Lloyd just faded out of sight. The two brothers blinked at where Lloyd had been, then turned to each other.
“Did he just…?”
“Yeah.”
A pause.
“So how about those drinks?”
Title: Angels
Series: Supernatural/Tales of Symphonia
Pairing(s): None
Warnings: Mild season 1 spoilers for Supernatural. Endgame spoilers for Tales of Symphonia.
Summary: Not all angels are heavenly, or earthly, or even hellish... but hey, at least the "flaming sword" part was right.
The forest at night was eerily quiet, the only sounds those of two young men creeping through the silent trees. They themselves made hardly a sound despite the crusty underbrush of fallen leaves, the trees about them readying themselves for winter. Twin trails of white vapor rose through the air and dissipated, one appearing more often than the other, as the two men stalked through the vacant forest as ghosts on the wind.
“Dean, be careful,” one figure said, breaking the silence of the night. “There’s a cliff around here that the locals say can catch hikers by surprise.”
The other figure, Dean, rolled his eyes. “You’ve told me that a hundred times tonight and we haven’t found a cliff yet.”
“Still, these kitsune are masters of illusion, they can trick you…”
“Fine, fine, I’ll be careful Sam. It’s not like I wouldn’t notice stepping out into empty air… How the heck did a Japanese spirit get all the way to middle America, anyway?”
Sam shrugged, hefting his shotgun as he peered around a tree trunk. “A lot of Japanese immigrants settled the surrounding area. Maybe one of them brought it?”
Dean scoffed. “This is that pagan god thing all over again, isn’t it?”
“Not necessarily. The kitsune might not be tied to any one thing, and I’m pretty sure we can kill it. We have those spells we looked up, and rock salt should slow it down at least.”
Dean shook his head. “Spells. Right. Little slips of paper that I could munch on for breakfast…”
There was a rustle nearby, and both men pivoted towards it, guns at the ready. Sam slipped a hand into his pocket and withdrew several slips of white paper, dark characters inked into them. Neither of them said a word, advancing on the disturbance with practiced caution.
The underbrush exploded suddenly, and Sam fell backwards ungracefully, just avoiding a faded orange blur that leapt straight for him. It landed right next to his head and he got his first good look at his and his brother’s target for that night. It was a small creature, about the size of a large dog, with orange fur but white paws. It could have been any other fox, aside from the three tails that it had, tipped in the same wispy white fog that its feet emanated. Intelligent green eyes surveyed the two men before it opened its mouth and spit white fire at Dean. It was avoided, Dean swearing profusely, and by the time he’d swing back around the kitsune was gone.
Sam scrambled back to his feet and pivoted, looking for any sign of their target. “Did you see where it went?”
“No, was too busy trying not to get roasted. So that’s how it got its victims, huh?” Dean brought his gun back up and imitated his brother, sweeping the area slowly. “I guess it’s one creature that doesn’t like raw meat.”
“That’s gross, Dean,” Sam muttered distastefully before catching a glimmer in the darkness. “There!”
They raced forward as quickly as they could without making a lot of noise, advancing on the kitsune. As they approached they thought they heard someone else coming, eliciting a swear from Dean. They did not need a civilian stumbling across this thing! They broke into a run and came into a clearing, Dean firing at the fox as soon as it came into view. It keened and vanished into smoke. A human yelp alerted them to the presence of another person, and Sam ducked around Dean to check that the bystander was okay.
“You could warn a person first!” the bystander yelled, shaking a fist at them angrily. The sudden sound after all that silence made the brothers wince but Dean kept his gun up, sweeping the area to watch for the kitsune’s return. Sam reached the stranger and helped him up.
“Sorry,” Sam apologized. “We heard someone coming but it sounded like you were farther away…” He released the stranger and stepped back, getting his first good look at the guy. “… Is that a sword?”
The teen nodded, falling into a battle stance and glancing about warily. Sam noticed the other sword then, a shimmering blue sword that he could swear was dripping water into the brown leaves beneath them. The first sword, the one closest to him, was glimmering orange-red, the light dancing beneath the surface as if it were lit from within by an ever-present fire, and Sam could feel sweat gathering under his collar from the heat the thing seemed to be giving off. The swords’ wielder was also unusual, an older teen by Sam’s estimation, dark hair brushed upwards off his head and eyes glittering in the night. He wore a red jacket with brown gloves, suspenders on the outside of them holding up his brown pants, and a white scarf protected his neck from the night’s chill. Sam noticed that the glove closest to him, on the teen’s right side, had a small hole cut out, leaving a gem on the boy’s hand exposed to the night.
“Yeah, it’s a sword,” the boy answered, scanning the area. “The monster’s not gone yet, though, so pay attention! Can you cast magic?”
That was an odd question, to say the least, but Sam showed him the spell papers he’d made. “I have these. They’re supposed to be able to kill the kitsune. Have you been hunting it too?”
“Kind of. I came into town last week because a friend of mine asked me too, said a monster from my world had come into yours… But enough talking! The monster’s still around!”
Sam shut up and scanned the area, noticing that Dean had wandered off but was still visible through the trees. “I’m Sam Winchester, by the way,” he said quietly. “That’s my brother Dean. We’ve been hunting this thing for the past few days, it’s been killing people.”
“And eating them,” the teen added grimly. “I’m Lloyd Irving. It’s still around here, just waiting…” And that was all he said, the two of them surveying the night silently. Their vigil was rewarded, another keening cry warning them just before a burst of flame exploded from the underbrush. Lloyd swung the flame sword and knocked the attack away, Sam ducking under his arm and firing a shot of rock salt at the spot the fire had come from. The fox came into view, swaying dangerously, and Sam jumped at the opportunity to finish it off. He brandished his spelled papers and spoke the activating words, stumbling a bit over the unfamiliar phrases. His mishaps didn’t affect the spells, much to his relief, and wind rushed around the kitsune, the binding spells pressing it to the ground while the banishing spell sent it away. Its keening faded as it did, and the night was suddenly deathly quiet, just Sam breathing heavily while the teen sheathed his swords.
“Nicely done,” Lloyd said, stretching and popping his knuckles. “That was easier than I thought it’d be. Your spells really helped a lot!”
“I’d have been toast without you,” Sam admitted. Something was nagging at him, though, an important fact that he should be remembering, and he frowned, turning towards where he’d last seen his brother. “Hey Dean!”
Suddenly there was no ground under his feet and he was falling, the wall of the cliff the only thing he could see to his left. He was too far away to hope to get a handhold, not with the ground racing up to meet him far more quickly that he’d have thought possible. He looked up and saw his brother’s stricken face, an arm dangling over the side.
Something grabbed him then, his stomach plunging even as he jerked to a stop, and Lloyd’s voice was shouting at him to hold on tight. He wrapped his arms around the teen like his life depended on it, staring in wonder over Lloyd’s shoulder at the glittering wings emerging from the teen’s shoulder blades. They looked like crystalline light, extending out of his field of vision, and they were carrying him and Lloyd towards where Dean had been left on the cliff.
“What the hell?” Sam heard Dean swear as they reached the top of the cliff and landed, staggering a bit. It took him a moment to register the ground under his feet, but once he did he jerked away from Lloyd, taking in the full extent of the wings folded against the teen’s back. “Sam, what the hell is he?!”
Sam sighed, turning to his brother and deadpanning, "Dean, he's got a 12-foot wingspan. What do you think he is?"
Dean whipped his gun up and pointed it at Lloyd, face hardening. “He’s not human, I’ll give him that.”
“Whoa!” the teen in question yelped, wings fading as he ducked off to the side and drew his swords. “Who’re you calling not human? I just saved your brother’s life!”
“That’s a point in his favor,” Sam agreed, trying not to remember the feeling of impending doom as he plummeted to the ground. “Dean, be cool, okay? If he wanted to hurt us he’d have done it already.”
“But he’s got wings, Sam!” Dean protested.
“And again, he saved my life. So let’s just play it cool, okay?” Sam soothed. “Let’s go grab a drink or something. The kitsune’s dead, we’re not, and we can swap stories, okay?”
“Ah, sorry, I can’t,” Lloyd said sheepishly, scratching his head. “See, with the monster dead, I’ve got to get going. But I’m human, honest. These wings… well, I went through a lot to get them, and the angels I met weren’t very helpful in that respect. Actually,” he mused, “they tried to kill me. A lot.” He shrugged. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you, Sam, Dean. Good luck next time!”
And with that he brought his swords together. Sam thought he saw them flicker, another sword taking the place of the fire and water blades, and Lloyd just faded out of sight. The two brothers blinked at where Lloyd had been, then turned to each other.
“Did he just…?”
“Yeah.”
A pause.
“So how about those drinks?”