Time: May 11th, around mid-afternoon Place: Outside the Manor Status: Public if anyone wants to be effected/notice or can be a one-shot Summary: Raphael plays with his element
Raphael jumped back, startled. His wings were soaked ans retaining water and it left him a bit unbalanced, not to mention he couldn't fly. This being wasn't human. It wasn't demonic either but still...
Stop being so paranoid, Raphael! He hasn't attacked you... Rising to his feet, mud staining the knees of his jeans, he gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't know anyone was out here. Were you hurt at all?" The hailstones had been rather large after all, not to mention the barametric pressure of the storm had popped his ears. He gave his head a good shake, spraying rainwater from his hair.
"It's just," Joe said, "that the others tend to be more obvious. The good ones you have to go looking for. But they're there, I promise you. I've seen war. I know there are things that will let you doubt just about anything. But there's always the other side as well."
Raphael was silent, staring down at his empty cup and considering Joe's words. Here was one of the men - a human that saved his life. The internal war raging within him for their place in his mind finally lead to a sigh of frustration. "I should go," he said, rising to his feet. He turned to Loki. "Thank you for the company. And Joe..."
He turned to the human at the bar, his expression nearly unreadable. "Thank you for everything. I would not have been here to insult the human race were it not for you finding me out there." The gratitude in his words were genuine, as well as the guilt of what he had spoken. Still, images of blood and guns and a dead corpse continued to haunt him and he longed to believe that humankind was not as hopeless as he felt.
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"What'd you do that for?" he demanded from the red-haired angel on the ground.
At the same time he increased his body temperature to a point where the water would dry off much faster.
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Stop being so paranoid, Raphael! He hasn't attacked you... Rising to his feet, mud staining the knees of his jeans, he gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I didn't know anyone was out here. Were you hurt at all?" The hailstones had been rather large after all, not to mention the barametric pressure of the storm had popped his ears. He gave his head a good shake, spraying rainwater from his hair.
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"Feeling better, now that you let off some steam?"
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He turned to the human at the bar, his expression nearly unreadable. "Thank you for everything. I would not have been here to insult the human race were it not for you finding me out there." The gratitude in his words were genuine, as well as the guilt of what he had spoken. Still, images of blood and guns and a dead corpse continued to haunt him and he longed to believe that humankind was not as hopeless as he felt.
"Thank you," he whispered again, smiling gently.
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