Loki tried telling himself that he hadn't chosen this particular job for a reason. Texas was full of sinners, and it wasn't like he didn't have to go there a lot anyway. But he could feel her close
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Pestilence hated being indoors, and she despised being alone. This new generation, spending their hours tucked indoors on their computers, never went out and experienced life - and all the VD it could bring them.
Therefore, as soon as she could stand, she had started roaming the street, occasionally able to grab someone sleeve and pass on something good. Still, she was ashamed to be seen out, so tended towards the twilight hours; a Horseman of the Apocalypse should not look this fragile.
She shifted her right arm in its sling and adjusted her sunglasses to better cover her black eyes, her cream dress deliberately loose enough to cover the bandages. It was a balmy thirty-four degrees and stormy and she was going to crawl through the streets if she had to.
As she passed an ordinary alley, she caught a flash of armour and grinned - oh, she'd know that sword anywhere. "Someone need punishing, feathers?"
Eyes fixing on a very familiar looking Horseman, Loki found himself caught between annoyance, embarrassment and plain old excitement. The three mixed together were enough to have him huffing the annoyance and looking away due to the embarrassment, eyes falling back on the man on his knees in front of him. The man was already dead, obviously. Stabbed in the chest with a 12 inch for a couple of dollars. But now that he was, it was his turn to be Judged.
"Busy, Pestilence." He finally growled out, in his entire time as Angel of Death, never having been interrupted quite like this before. He'd lost his train of thought now, and he frowned as he tried to remember what came next.
Loki's head turned again so he could regard her with even more annoyance than before - why it had to be her...
Mumbling something inaudible, he turned back to the sinner, Richard, finally letting his wings fan out, the wrath of his Father in his eyes as he regarded him unforgivingly. "You are sentenced to eternity in the Pit for your crimes."
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Therefore, as soon as she could stand, she had started roaming the street, occasionally able to grab someone sleeve and pass on something good. Still, she was ashamed to be seen out, so tended towards the twilight hours; a Horseman of the Apocalypse should not look this fragile.
She shifted her right arm in its sling and adjusted her sunglasses to better cover her black eyes, her cream dress deliberately loose enough to cover the bandages. It was a balmy thirty-four degrees and stormy and she was going to crawl through the streets if she had to.
As she passed an ordinary alley, she caught a flash of armour and grinned - oh, she'd know that sword anywhere. "Someone need punishing, feathers?"
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"Busy, Pestilence." He finally growled out, in his entire time as Angel of Death, never having been interrupted quite like this before. He'd lost his train of thought now, and he frowned as he tried to remember what came next.
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It was good to see him again. There, she'd admitted it. Not that she'd ever tell anyone that - especially not Mr Smug and Shiny Feathers over there.
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Mumbling something inaudible, he turned back to the sinner, Richard, finally letting his wings fan out, the wrath of his Father in his eyes as he regarded him unforgivingly. "You are sentenced to eternity in the Pit for your crimes."
Reply
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