[closed]

[reddenedrage]

Who: reddenedrage & bedsidemanners
When: After this.
Where: Somewhere between the Outlander Apartments and the Clinic.
Format: Prose.
What: Two angels meet on the basis of sparring.... Which is possible, if one doesn't get distracted.
Warnings: Mainly language. Plausible violence.

Comments

[bedsidemanners]

Raphael was more than close, if he'd look above him. He didn't fly too much normally, not here, it just made him feel claustrophobic-- even after months in Anatole he wasn't accustomed to the space constraints, compared to a whole world to fly in. Besides, it posed too many questions.

But it was quicker. It was only seconds before Raphael landed, a few feet from Michael. Stepping towards him with a small grin, at first, one that quickly evaporated into concern when he saw the state of his clothes and the bruises and cuts. He reached over and touched his shoulder.

"Hey. What happened to you?"

[reddenedrage]

He'd only seen the other once before since Michael had arrived, and only for a short time. The grin that appeared on Raphael's face caused a cocky one to appear on Michael's own--but that faded quickly, and the concern that came instead only gave confusion. What happened? What did--

Oh, right. That. Michael sighed loudly, rolling his eyes. "Man, there was some bitch who wouldn't just shut her fricking mouth. Turns out the skank could actually fight in those heels." And that she sported six golden wings. Yeah. That still grated.

[bedsidemanners]

This, of course, only led to Raphael abruptly perking up, if only a bit.

"What was her name? I'm sure I'd have remembered a girl like that." Especially if she'd managed to do any sort of damage to Michael. That was impressive enough by itself, and Raphael didn't so much as bother asking who won, as assured as he was of Michael's superiority. "I'd better get you healed up first, it's unfair otherwise."

[reddenedrage]

Michael only looked blankly at Raphael for a moment. She had a name, didn't she? She must have said it at least once, right?... "Aw, hell, I don't know," he gave in annoyance, looking away. "Flat chest, long hair, big heels. Got a thing for using ice." And that memory came with more annoyance. If he had lost, the fire elemental would be brimming with more anger and hunting the skank down again. As things were... Fuck. At least the both of them had left in shambles. Just 'cause she had left first didn't mean things were done at all. Not by a fucking long shot.

The offer came half a blow to his pride, half appreciative. In the end, he only answered as he could. "If you're sure you don't want the handicap," he replied with a grin. "You might need it in the end."

[bedsidemanners]

"Haven't seen her." His lips were pursed. Odd, that. Girls weren't really enough to pull him out of his apathy, no matter how much he feigned otherwise, but all the same, most of Michael's limited description sounded appealing enough. He would've noticed a woman like that. "Pretty?" As if Michael knew how to pay that much attention.

"Oh, I'll be fine. It's this whole area that had better worry." Fire and wind made better infernos than anything else, the first war had made that painfully obvious. But he figured they were far enough away from the residential areas to do too much collateral damage. Raphael took Michael's arm without preamble, summoning up the wind almost absently, guiding it along and healing the cuts and bruises up and down along his skin. His tone wasn't unkind as he continued. "Too bad I can't do anything about your clothes, they'll still be a wreck."

[reddenedrage]

As if Michael would pay that much attention. She had gotten more of it since she had proven herself to be more than just a slut but still, his interests weren't exactly in the same vein. "Like I'd know. Go meet her yourself and see." 'cept that'd probably end with stuff that would make him pissed, and he really didn't even wanna talk about that.

He only snorted at Raphael's reply, though the other angel was probably right about the surroundings. Michael spared a glance for them while Raphael worked. It'd been a little bit since he felt this. His hand clenched, then his fingers stretched, wrist rotating. That did feel a little better... Not that he'd admit as much. Instead he glanced down at his clothes. "Eh. I'll get them fixed eventually. It's not as bad as it could be."

He glanced up at Raphael then, something almost childlike about the excitement in his eyes. "You really going to go through with this? I thought for sure you'd try to weasel out of it."

[bedsidemanners]

"Hard to meet a girl based on a description that vague," Raphael retorted, though in truth he'd probably meet her inadvertently, given enough time. Either way if she'd given Michael enough trouble to actually injure him, maybe pursuing her wasn't in his best interests. For awhile.

Raphael was making quick work of the healing, as usual, deft and nonchalant, and it was only another few seconds before almost all the cuts and abrasions on his body had nearly disappeared. He was half-tempted to complain about having to do it, just out of pure habit, and might have if this had been Heaven. But he'd missed him too much to jump right into that.

"Of course I am. I promised you one back at home, remember?" Or else Michael had demanded it of him. He couldn't quite remember the details at this late date, not that he'd admit it. He straightened up, scrutinizing the other angel with a vaguely amused look. "Unless you've had enough fighting for one day, that is."

[reddenedrage]

"Well, I'm not helping you meet girls, Raphael. You do too much of that on your own." Far too fucking much, especially when there were better things to do. Which... when compared to fucking around, was pretty much everything. The idiot.

The other angel healed him without a word of complaint, and Michael was fine with that. He rotated his shoulders, then cracked his neck with a grin. Whether or not Michael actually remembered that was out of the question entirely--it had been brought up and he would keep to it. How many chances did this come along without Raphael kicking and whining the whole way? "Hell, no!" he crowed in return, jumping back a few feet and leaning forward, a cheerful edge to his tone despite the glint in his eyes. "Like I'm as weak as that!"

[bedsidemanners]

"Prove it." But he was almost grinning. "I'd hate to be the one to undo all my hard work."

It had been a long time since he'd sparred, or really had enough interest to do so. He was quite badly out of practice, especially compared to Michael with his constant penchant for demon slaying. Any threats would be pretty hollow. But still. Hands raised, he pulled himself into a fighting stance and lunged at him, aiming a punch to his chest.

[reddenedrage]

Nah, Raphael wasn't really trying, not yet, and so the sword stayed on Michael's back, hands instead spreading and moving to guard. So the other was starting with a straight on attack, huh? Alright, he could get with it. Tilting to the side slightly, Michael reached for the hand poised to attack--in the same motion dropping and swinging his leg into Raphael's ankles in an attempt to drop him.

Starting off with something elemental would have made this fun from the start, but why not see how much they could spar without resorting to that? They'd get to it soon enough, anyway. Michael's patience wasn't exactly infinite. "If that's hard work, I don't have much to worry about then!"