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Stiles

"Personally, I'm a fan of ignoring a problem until it eventually goes away."

0 · 406 views · located in The Aerie

a character in “The End of Days”, originally authored by ibecameinsane, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description




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Character Dialogue || #DA5400
Character Thought || Italics

Face Claim || Dylan O'Brien
As Played By || ibecameinsane



So begins...

Stiles's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Anael Character Portrait: Stiles Character Portrait: Godric
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"And I like large parties. They’re so intimate. At small parties there isn’t any privacy."
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby


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{ In collaboration with ibecameinsane }





There was music coming from the backyard in preparation for the evening. Deep in the gardens of The Aerie the greenery was made pristine by eight Children of Man, all with blinking mechanical bracelets attached to their ankles. Inside the grand entrance hall, the marble flooring was polished within an inch of its life, done so in order to reflect those walking upon it. Every golden embellishment was sparkling; every piece of silver free of tarnish. Chandeliers twinkled in the light of the noon day sun which streamed in through large French windows, lighting up the manor in an visceral white glow. As the Angels prepared for the gala, the Children of Man were hard at work making sure every piece of furniture was visibly presentable and no piece of art hung obscurely on the wall. Refreshment bars were strategically placed about the main wing, accommodating empty silver trays which were to be filled with freshly baked treats once the party begun. Security paced the perimeter all the while, ensuring that there were no security breeches in the barriers.

Preparations were finished a quarter before sunset. Once the guests came bustling in there was food on the tables and Children of Men serving drinks at the bar. The orchestra outside played with gusto as fireworks painted the pre-evening sky. Angel and human alike met and mingled, the music coaxing them to dance. It was as if the world outside was forgotten-...if only for a moment.





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{ Shortly after Sunset }





Godric moved with an effortless grace, flaunting his defiant looking wings for no particular reason at all, perhaps for no reason other than for his own enjoyment. Though he had ambivalent feelings towards them—given that they reminded him of his past—he took pride in the history those darkened feathers held. On a whim, he began stretching his nude back and his wings, almost as if preparing himself to take flight at any given minute. His prominent and muscular back could now feel the fresh air escaping and rushing through from outside the wide opened windows into his bedroom and, along with it, the music from the orchestra. Upon hearing the music that announced the beginning of the dance, a pleased smile was drawn into his lips. Godric knew this gala was a step in the right direction; the first cause for one desired effect. A world where both Angels and humans coexist. The thought alone was more than sufficient to make the Archangel smile.

He made his way out of his master bedroom and into the lounge, wearing nothing but a pair of slacks. Godric’s bedroom was the perfect example of luxury and extravagance as everything inside the Aerie, not that he was one to care for such details though. As expected, Anael was already waiting for him. Sitting down on the black leather sofa with both her arms and ankles crosses, the Angel wore an impatient frown, showing her annoyance as an accessory to her evening gown. Of course she was already dressed up, in a dress carefully designed to showcase her petite wings no less. She had left her mask off however, having placed it on top of the coffee table nearby. Godric said nothing as Anael let out a frustrated sigh and unraveled her legs; she stood up slowly and rolled her eyes before allowing her mood to change. Before she did anything else she was careful to indulge herself in shamelessly gazing up and down Godric's exposed torso, particularly enjoying the moment.

“All right Tarzan, let’s get you changed and all dolled up for this party. You should see how all the others are dressed up. As the humans say, you don’t want to feel left out.” Before Godric could even attempt to refuse her assistance, which wouldn’t have made any difference even if he did, Anael immediately hurried him to the enormous walk-in closet that had been adhered into his bedroom. After carefully piecing together the perfect outfit, she took it upon herself to dress him up, being mindful of his immense wings. Without even having the need to ask, Anael knew well that Godric would want to cover his them and she promptly did so.

Godric could only raise his eyebrow from time to time, wordlessly following unspoken orders without putting up much of a fight. Truth be told, he had long since gotten used to Anael and her behavior. A spastic knock pulled them for their comfortable silence, tearing the Angel away from her game of dress up and coaxing them both towards the door. Behind it stood a Son of Man with a constellation of freckles painting pale skin and iridescent amber eyes. He was Anael favorite amongst the humans in The Aerie, his ostentatious charm having successfully lulled her into an almost tender fondness with the young man. Anael made a mental note to go easy on the other Son of Man for fetching him for her but at the moment her focus honed in on the improperly dressed human that went by the name Stiles.

Stiles, like a handful of his peers, had been out in the gardens all day. Seeing as he was a young and able Son of Man, he had been put to work doing yard work. It wouldn't have bothered him as much if he had been mowing the lawn or trimming hedges but no, he had been put on twig duty. Having to walk aimlessly around several acres of land with a house arrest bracelet digging into his ankle wasn't what he'd rather be doing on any given day. His only reprieve had come when his friend Simon trotted up beside him and said that Anael wanted to see him. Granted that had been half an hour ago but the Arch-Angel Jacob hadn't let him leave his post. Seeing as he outranked Anael, Stiles hadn't had much of a choice.

So, in retrospect, he had every excuse not to be all dolled up. He'd traipsed through the formal ball in khaki pants and a t-shirt with his hair an absolute mess without a care in the world. There were eyes following him as he moved which he chose to ignore. He had gone up to Godric's door with hope that Anael would still be there. It had opened to reveal that she was and—after she raked her eyes over his lanky form—he withered nervously at her unsatisfied scowl.

"Uhh-...sorry about that." He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with a meek smile, "Jacob had me doing bitch chores after the yard got done, probably just to spite me." Stiles dropped his hand to his side and snuck a glance over the her shoulder before meeting her gaze again, "Do you still need my help?"

Anael's lips drew on a mischievous smile at the sheer enjoyment of having the opportunity to play with Stiles some more. For the most part she was indifferent over what happened to humankind but there was no denying that this particular human kept things interesting in the Aerie. Contrariwise, Godric simply stared mildly uninterested, not willing to partake in Anael's little game with the young man. He disregarded them both and finished getting ready. Ignoring Godric, Anael moved closer to Stiles with slight amusement, "Yes I do. In fact, I'll be needing that body of yours."

Stiles paled, "Uhh-...what?" This goes ignored as she darts behind him, pushing him towards the closet with a strength surpassing his own, despite his best efforts. She turns him on his heels and moves in his line of sight, taking the hem of his shirt in her hands and promptly hoisting it up. Stiles flails, sputtering as if he'd just gotten a bucket of water poured on him. Yanking his shirt down, he stares at the Angel with his eyes comically wide. "Excuse you!" He hollers in offense, "I don't remember giving you permission to undress me!"

With a smirk, she simply retorts, "Funny. I don't remember asking." Anael goes for his shirt again, tugging it out of the human's grasp despite his best efforts.

"Damn it, Ann! Let go, I can do it myself!" Stiles insists, tearing himself out of the Angel's hold. He pulls away so abruptly that his stumbles back into some shelving, hitting his spine with brute force. Wincing, Stiles doesn't fight back the death glare that comes with Anael's laughter. He mutters, "You could've at least taken me out to dinner first." before yanked his shirt up over his head.

As the garment falls to the floor, Anael moves towards the back of the closet where she's stored a suit far too small for Godric to wear. Unzipping the cloth casing, she hands Stiles the dark crimson button-up and leans against the wall adjacent him. She watches in amusement as he dresses himself, accepting the articles of clothing she shoves his way with nothing more than a pursed bottom lip and furrowed brows. Eventually the quiet becomes to much for the Son of Man and he breaks it, asking almost casually, "So am I going to get an explanation for you stripping me or are we just going to pretend that didn't happen?"

With an eye roll that did nothing if not express her utter endearment towards the young man, Anael closed the small space between them to fix his shirt collar. "I need you to attend the party, and I don’t mean that you’ll be working as staff, you are to be a guest."

"A guest." Stiles repeated, his expression just as much a deadpan as his voice, "Well you'll have to let Jacob know. Knowing that douche-nozzle he'll probably have me be a bathroom attendant or something." He paused, furrowing his brows with his head cocked to the side in curiosity, speaking only when she finished adjusting his blazer, "So you're asking me to party it up, why?"

The silky texture of the the dress shirt left her fingertips as she took a step away from Stiles. His inquiry had captured Godric's attention who was now gazing at Anael intently, his gaze catching the slight smirk the Angel tried to hide in response to the Son of Man's vernacular. the Arch-Angel watched as her mood changed almost immediately, any trace of playfulness was completely erased. Her somber facade caught Stiles' attention, much to Anael's relief, and she was thus prompted to explain the situation.

"Today's party is nothing like you've seen before. Humans will be allowed to enter the Aerie and leave once the party is over-..." she said, clearly beside herself, not even attempting to hide her annoyance in the subject. To Anael, this was all just a futile attempt to achieve a peace that was never even under consideration, at least not under more than half the Angels. Besides this party would only provide humans more intel about the Aerie.

Before Anael had any more time to explain Godric stepped closer to the young Son of Man, "What Anael is trying to say is that we need to know what the humans are thinking. Humans trust humans, which means you are to be my eyes and ears where mine may fail to follow. I trust you know the importance of this task. As for Jacob, he will not be looking for you I assure you."

Stiles held their gaze in his amber eyes without interrupting them. As vivacious as he may seem, the young man knew when to stop joking around. He'd come to know Anael well enough to recognize the severity of the assignment at hand, but Godric was a whole new determinant. He'd barely spoken two words to the Arch-Angel before tonight and vice-versa. For Godric to come to him—or at least entrust him with something like this—he knew that it was important. He cannot fuck this up.

"Alright-..." says Stiles with hardened determination. He nods once in affirmation, looking to Godric with an unspoken promise in his eyes. "If I hear anything of value I'll let you know."

Godric nodded with a stern demeanor, his shoulders becoming visibly less tense at the human's oath. He hoped there would be no problems at the gala. After all, the masquerade would represent the beginning of what could become an alliance resulting in the coexistence of both races. Meanwhile, Anael had moved closer to the table nearby and retrieved two masks much different from her own. The mask in her right hand was an elegant piece with beautiful decorations matching Stile's outfit perfectly while the one on the left consisted of a beautiful white iconic mask.

Without asking for permission of any kind, Anael gingerly placed the elegant mask on Stile's face being careful when tying the laces at the back of his head. Stiles met her unease with a comforting smile, the gesture only broadening when she gave a small smile in return. "All right pretty eyes, just remember what you have to do," she said flirtatiously, reverting back to her usual self. Stiles bent at the waist and moved to exit the bedroom, his smile falling from his face in disgruntled fondness when Anael gave him a pat on his backside.

As soon as Stiles closed the door behind him, Anael immediately turned to face Godric again. "You and I both know this is not going to end well Godric, you are only exposing us all for a lost cause," She was not usually one to go against Godric unless she saw the need to, and this seemed to be one of those rare moments if her constant and obvious disdain for this masquerade event was anything to go by.

Godric, however, would not be swayed and looked upon her without emotion. "It is not particularly up for discussion, Anael. Besides we had already talked about this and you will not press the matter further."

Knowing that she wouldn't be able to convince him otherwise, she relented, emitting a private sigh as she moved to his side. Placing his mask in its rightful place, she lingered for a bit while tying the mask to his head. As soon as she finished, she finally donned her own mask and together they headed outside and into the party where everyone awaited.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Stiles
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{ Approx 900 Words | Sunset | The Aerie }





His heavy footsteps mimicked the steady beating of his heart. Surprisingly Stiles wasn't nervous. In fact, he cannot recall ever being this calm. There was a certain liberation that came with the task bestowed upon. Stiles would actually be able to enjoy a party, mingle with people outside of his work regime. He wouldn't have to get anyone a drink, ask anyone if they wanted another hors d'oeuvres, or direct anyone to the bathroom. Because no Angel laid claim on him, Stiles had never been able to indulge in the parties he'd been attending. He wasn't anyone's pet therefore he was everyone's butler. He didn't have the advantages that came with being an Angel's favorite. Don't be mistaken. Stiles would never let any Angel, Arch-Angel or otherwise, stake claim on him. He had more self worth than that. This was just a nice change, that's all. For three years he's watched other people dancing, mingling, drinking, and having fun. This would be the first night he'd actually get to enjoy it too. But this small freedom came with a huge burden. Not that socializing was a burden, mind you—he just couldn't get as hammered as he would've liked to at his first Aerie extravaganza.

Stiles stood at the top of the stairs and stared in amazement. There had to be a hundred people here, maybe more. And the best part? Some of them were actually people! Actual normal human beings just like him instead of dicks with wings.

Classical music reverberated off of every wall, encompassing in a calm serenity he would've never been able to feel had he been working the floor as a waiter or hiding out in the gardens as the clean up crew. His amber gaze floated about in something akin to merriment as he identified every instrument playing, spotting the band in amongst the dancing crowd. Before he could rupture with bottled up excitement, Stiles descended the grand stair well in search of someone he knew. His friend Simon had thankfully been put in charge of drinks and was currently milling through the crowd of guests with a silver platter of crystal glasses in hand. Stiles snuck up behind him and tapped his shoulders, whispering his name. It went unheard over the roar of the crowd and the young Son of Man turned on his heels, immediately playing his role. "Good evening, sir. Welcome to The Aerie. Might I interest you in some champagne?"

"Dude-..." Stiles chuckled, "...-it's me."

He watched as the wheel turns in his friend's head, dark eyes cataloging familiar features behind the extravagant mask Stiles wore. Simon paled then, "Stiles?!" before pulling him to the side and lowering his voice to a harsh whisper, "What are you doing dressed up like that? Jacob said that you were to be in the gardens. If he finds you you're going to be in serious trouble!"

"I'm not going to get in trouble. I'm on a mission." This he said with childish pride, beaming from ear to ear with his fists on his hips and his chest poked out like some novel comic book hero. Simon, of course, was skeptical.

"A mission?" he drawled. It was just shy of being a question, uttered as a statement by his pure disbelief. "What kind of mission? And where did you get those clothes?"

"I can't really get it the details because I'm supposed to be undercover but it comes from upstairs." said Stiles, gesturing up to where the Arch-Angels slept. Simon followed with his gaze and his brows sprung up in surprise. He'd been given this 'mission' by an Arch-Angel, therefore Jacob was the least of his worries. This seemed to pacify his friend for the time being, if his exasperated sigh was anything to go by.

"Just don't get yourself into any trouble, alright? I won't be able to look out for you all night." Simon insisted, staring at his friend in obvious concern before shoving the tray in his direction, "Take a glass so you'll have a reason for talking to me. You don't want anyone getting suspicious."

"Good thinking." Stiles mused, a glass already in his hand. He brought it up to his lips and took a sip, his mouth contorting downward as if he didn't know what to make of the taste. "Eugh! What the hell is that?"

"It's the finest bottle of champagne The Aerie has to offer," Simon stated firmly, wordlessly telling Stiles to get his act together. "At least pretend like you belong at a party. Please? I know you haven't ever been to one but-..."

Stiles chuckled, "Alright mom, jeez."

Simon shook his head, "I'm just worried."

And those words could not accurately explain just how worried he was.

Placing a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, he sent him a reassuring smile, "I know, but I'll be fine. I promise." He took a step back and sipped the champagne without displaying any sort of distaste, as if to show just how much of a handle he had on the situation. Simon, for the most part, looked satisfied and reaffirmed his butler facade.

"Will that be all, sir?"

With a nod from the masked Son of Man, Simon walked away, vanishing into the crowd seamlessly. Stiles stood there for a moment, almost overwhelmed by the amount of people in the room. Chugging down the rest of the champagne, Stiles placed the glass on a passing silver platter and shook the anxiety out of his limbs. "Okay Stiles, you've got this." He told himself, "Just go out there and act like your haven't been locked in a mansion or three years."

Sounds easy enough-...right? Well, as Stiles dove into the mass of people he sure as hell hoped so.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lucien Character Portrait: Stiles
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"I don't have the luxury of leaning on anyone's strength, least of all an Angel's."
{ 654 Words | Sunset | The Aerie }





Regardless of what Oliver had said, Lucien did not pout. He just didn't want to go. Not only did he
abhor dressing up, he also loathed the company. So he faced his comrade's request with a scowl, much
like he did everything else, but ultimately found himself dressed in a charcoal suit with a mask in the
passenger seat. He's been to the manor so often that they barely spare a second glance before waving
him through. They recognize his vehicle no doubt, his face as well. Lucien just couldn't see what all the
excitement was about. Regardless, he was to attend, if only to be Oliver's informant. He supposed he
could keep himself busy with debriefing those Children of Men working for the Resistance but what else
was there? So the Angels were trying to curry the Resistance's favor with a masquerade ball. So what?
Whoever had the bright idea to let humans freely roam the Aerie didn't have their head on straight but
it was hardly his problem. There was no telling what their motive was for letting humans come in and
leave but Lucien had this sneaking suspicion that it wasn't the Resistance the Angels wanted to have on
their good side. Upon seeing all of the humans in attendance, it would be safe to say that it's working.

Donning the mask, Lucien stepped into the crowd with every intention of stopping by one of the bar to
grab a shot of whisky. If there was anything he could give the Aerie credit for, it was their alcohol. Minutes
later, he had his back to the crowd and a half pint of Bourbon in his hand. There wasn't any sign of those
Sons of Man he'd become acquainted with, although, it wasn't like he actually took a moment to look for
them. He just hoped that he'd be able to find them amongst the array of masks and wings. Surely he'd be
able, he figured, but that thought was cut off short when he was nearly barreled into by a rambunctious Son
of Man in red. "Can I get one um-..." he began, curling his lips in indecision. Lucien scoffed in disbelief despite
himself. Turning his gaze to the young man, he watched as he flushed beneath his mask. "...-oh crap."

"You've never ordered anything at a bar, have you?" Lucien drawled, catching the attention of bright amber eyes.

He smiled at bit, his voice nervous as ran his artisan hands through tousled hair, "Is it that obvious?"

Lucien eyebrows went pert, answering the young man's question with the affirmative without having to utter a
single word. "Let's just start you off with something easy, alright?" He suggested, turning to the bartender
and ordering, "One rum and coke. Can I get a refill as well?" The Daughter of Man serving drinks gave a nod
of affirmation before she went to fixing the drinks. Lucien turned in his seat to face the Son of Man head on.
"Who do you belong to?"

"Excuse me?"

Leaning forward at the waist, Lucien put his lips to the Son of Man's ear, ignoring the small intake of breath he'd
coaxed out of him for sake of muttering, "You're not from outside the Aerie, you wouldn't be wearing an anklet
otherwise. Clearly you've never had a drink, which you would have had you face one day outside of these walls. So, tell
me,"
he leaned away with a cocked brow, his face somber with disinterest despite the pressing question, "Who do you
belong to?"


The drinks were placed in front of them then and the Son of Man grabbed his immediately, her gaze hardened with
utter disdain, "I don't belong to anyone, you walking pile of putrescence. I'm no one's property. I am a human being. You?
You're just a bird with an attitude."
With that he took his drink and his leave and Lucien watched his retreating back.

Well-... he thought to himself, Isn't that interesting.




The setting changes from The Aerie to Earth

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rory Daniels Character Portrait: Theliel Character Portrait: Jacob Character Portrait: Stiles
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the theme of this party's the industrial age and you came in dressed like a trainwreck
{ 417 Words | Sunset | The Aerie }


Todd glared after the kid in the black mask with the cigarette between his lips. He snorted, trying to
clear his nasal passages of the sweet stench of nicotine. Turning and shaking his head slowly so the
blue and green feathers of his mask brushed his hair and cheeks again, his eyes fell on a human in a
three-quarters mask and clothing that hugged his body and made him look to die for. Todd grinned.
He'd recognize Stiles anywhere, but the grin quickly soured to grimace when he saw the man beside
him leaning in close to speak into Stiles' ear. He hissed under his breath and spat, pushing himself off
from the arch and letting his wings shake out, spread menacing. As he pushes his way through the
crowd, he comes into being able to hear Stiles' voice and the other masked man's through the murmur
of the festivities.

“Who do you belong to?” the words sour in Todd's stomach as he hears them.

The hair on the back of his neck stood and his eyebrows knit together, his lips pushing into a grimace
so deep it was practically a pout while he fought his way through the crowds around the bar. By the
time he got there, though, the other man was long gone and Stiles had a little look on his face that
made Todd glow with pride. He sidled up next to Stiles and murmured in his ear, leaning in close,

“Hey Stiles, no one giving you trouble are they? Oh look at that. You're being a big boy and drinking.”

He leaned away from Stiles to order a drink from the human making drinks and receive it, but stayed
close enough to Stiles that their hips brushed. He turned his attention back to the boy as soon as he
had his wine. He swirled the glass by the stem idly, examining Stiles' face for any sign of displeasure.
He was uneasy about the man who'd been bothering this human; his human, claimed the moment
they became friends. Jock's little menial tortures, those were okay with him, they didn't harm him but
the moment someone started doing anything that could be misconstrued as coercion immediately
sparked a deep and utter loathing laced with sharp jealousy and sparks of anger. He slowly let the
concern spill into his eyes, looking Stiles up and down and back to his face, then nodding slowly.

“I'm serious, though. That guy looked like an asshole. Are you okay?” he let his voice crack with
sincerity, softened his eyes and rested a hand gently on his friend's shoulder, giving him one final
look over before stepping away enough to give him a little space, his body language staying open
enough to make it evident if Stiles wanted to take the next step forward he could, if he needed the
support or the touch or anything.

If there was anything Todd was good at, it was showing support when those he loved needed it, and
on a deep level he had a hard time not falling in love with nearly any human, especially the ones he
saw on the daily in the Aerie. He could appreciate the beauty in almost anything, and in Stiles it shone;
it always stung to see him tarnished by the slightest things and if it was within Todd's power he'd
protect the boy just like he'd protect any other beautiful creature in his life. He hoped he made it
evident enough.




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if memory serves i'm addicted to words and they're useless
{ 474 Words | Sunset | Earth, the Aerie }



Rory's heart began beating too fast in his chest the moment the crowd swallowed him and a certain
kind of panic slid through his veins on the tail of adrenaline and nicotine. Everything buzzed, his
whole body falling into a terrible, singular, perfectly put together chaos while his lungs seized and
his whole body reeled with the sudden realization and fear of people slowly closing in around him.
As the panic attack swelled in his chest and Rory's eyes widened he froze for a long, long moment
until a waiter quite literally ran into him. The world went bright with the panic and lack of clarity, and
Rory felt his throat tighten while his shirt was drenched in alcohol. His mask dislodged slightly,
now hanging uneven across his cheek and he looked up long enough to lock eyes with the waiter, and
then to bolt from the crowd as fast as possible, knocking into a female angel on the way and heaving
with the lack of breath and the sudden tautness in his muscles. His cigarette flattened between his lips,
somehow staying there while he darted away. The taste of tobacco strands filled his mouth and took
his focus from the receding crowd at his back. Somehow he found his way through an archway to the
gardens, more ornate than he'd seen gardens before and pretty enough to rise bile and bitterness in his
throat.

Eyes still huge, pupils blown, Rory wheeled on his heel to survey the less crowded garden and
immediately zeroed in on a server with a silver platter of champagne glasses which he decided
instantaneously was exactly what he needed. To drench his panicked brain in alcohol. Great plan, he
thought to himself, almost proud of his terrible decision making while he sidled, still cautious and wide
eyed to the server, accepting a glass and turning harsh on his heel, which was the exact moment a man
he'd hardly noticed before happened to be in the exact same spot that Rory had stepped to occupy. He
winced as his shirt wetted for the second time that day with champagne and a loss of dignity. Without
looking up to meet the golden-suited, golden-masked man's eyes, he let a shy, tiny, half-aborted
murmur slip from his lips.

“Sorry um,” he stutters, taking a step back, “Fuck, you'd be surprised how many times I've been
drenched in alcohol today it's not a fun experience uh. Hello. Fuck.”


Uncertainty spilled into his eyes and his fingers shook around his cigarette and half-full champagne
glass. He's the picture of anxiety, standing there and bringing his cigarette nervously to his lips before
putting it out on the bottom of the glass, fidgetting, anxious and grimacing with it. He couldn't meet
the angel's eyes.

The setting changes from Earth to The Aerie

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Theliel Character Portrait: Stiles
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{ Approx 280 Words | Sunset | The Aerie }





Who do you belong to?

Stiles wasn't usually one to hold a grudge—alright, that wasn't necessarily true. He usually held a grudge
to his grave. Regardless, who the fuck did that guy think he was? Stiles wasn't even sure he wanted to
drink this Rum&Coke anymore. Just knowing that the jackass had suggested it filled him with a petty rage,
making him yearn to just pour it down the drain. As he took a sip, however, he had to admit that the guy
had good taste in alcohol. As much of a bastard as he was, Stiles knew enough to give him his due. Then
he felt a presence shroud him, causing him to lurch forward slightly in shock. The only thing preventing him
from crying out was the sultry voice in his ear, lulling him into a state of calm. It eased his frustration as
well, much to his immense gratitude, and he wasn't all that surprised to find Todd standing in front of him.
For the Angel's sake, Stiles made a valid effort to hide his abhorrence towards the masked douchebag. He'd
known for a while that Todd had a soft spot for him; one so strong that his own mood influenced that of
his angelic companion. It was endearing, to say the least. Not to mention welcomed. Leaning into the Angel's
invitation of touch, Stiles laid his temple on one suit clad shoulder, their bodies scant inches from touching.

"You're right, he was an asshole." Stiles replied with a chuckle, leaning away to look upon his Angel in
fondness, his amber eyes practically undressing the celestial being. In a totally platonic way, Stiles insisted "I'll
be okay though."
With his head cocked to the side, he smiled, "Love the mask, by the way. Very Mardi Gras."




Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Theliel Character Portrait: Stiles
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the theme of this party's the industrial age and you came in dressed like a trainwreck
{ 410 Words | Sunset | The Aerie }


“You're right, he was an asshole.”
Of course he was, Stiles, shit, Todd thinks to himself.

For the moment Stiles leaned his forehead into Todd's shoulder, his hand came up, smoothed his hair
for a split second and then moved away, allowing a casual, gentle smile to fall to his lips. He's glad to
know that Stiles is okay, it genuinely quiets something in his chest, which is nice, and Theliel tosses a
long, cursory glance across the rest of the guests just to make sure that no one's technically in the same
kind of trouble as Stiles was. While Todd might have been promiscuous, he certainly wasn't going to
allow coercion and illicit behaviors such as that on his front lawn during a party.

As Stiles complimented Todd's mask, he lifted his wine to his lips and smiled around the cusp of the
glass. It shimmered over his lip, and a grin was left when he pulled the glass away.

“This isn't anything close to how garish my mardis gras mask is, trust me,”
he chuckled.

He preened a little, under Stiles' gaze, ran fingers gentle over the feathers at his brow, on the mask, and
then over the feathers in his wings, letting Stiles have a good look, then smirking a smirk which had
gained him access to more than one person's bed in the past.

“This is some party, isn't it? Jock hasn't got you doing anything stupid, it seems so...”

Todd thinks for a long moment, letting his eyes wander Stiles, almost idly, but certainly with some
purpose.

“It seems you're free. Which means we can play, doesn't it? Would you like to dance?”
he purred,
voice practically honey-sweet, but not harsh, not forceful. Open to rejection at any moment, and his
face showed that as much as he could make it; he wouldn't mind rejection at this step, and he took a
nonchalant sip of his wine after saying it, distancing himself a little to make his interest a little less
demanding while still remaining open, as well as making the murky warmth in his belly grow a little.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Theliel Character Portrait: Stiles
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{ Approx 430 Words | Sunset | The Aerie }





With one brow cocked and a smirk painting his cupid's bow lips, Stiles stares at Todd in predilection,
his gaze lingering a tad too long at the Angel's majestic wings. They were more than enough to catch
his attention, but who could blame him? As much animosity he held towards the celestial species, there
was no denying that he held a private fascination for their avian quality. Despite how distracting those
fawn feathers were, Stiles caught an eyeful of that confident and almost lecherous quirk of Todd's mouth.
Not that he's ever paid that much attention to Todd's mouth-...ever. Maybe once or twice. His thoughts
were interrupted by Jacob's nickname, putting an abrupt halt to his downward spiral of denial to coax a
scowling pout out of him, if only briefly. His skin flushes as the Angel takes in his appearance and Stiles
thinks he must look like some pink freckled freak. It's probably not flattering at all but he can't bring
himself to care once he hears the slight purr in Todd's voice. Stiles isn't a girl so he doesn't swoon. But
damn if he wasn't almost close.

It occurred to him then that Todd had asked him to dance. Had asked, not ordered. The realization
alone elicited a grin. If there was one thing he liked most about Theliel it was his morals. The Angel did
nothing without the complete consent of whomever he was interacting with, be it for a casual stroll or a
quick fling. Perhaps it should dissuade him to know that the Angel would bed anyone in the Aerie but it
doesn't and he doesn't know why. He knows that if he doesn't want to do anything, Todd won't force
him. He also knows that the Angel will move on to another Son or Daughter of Man without sparing a
second thought. Stiles wasn't kidding himself in thinking that he held this Angel's undivided attention
just because he batted those long lashes at him and sent him a smile that made him go weak in the knees.
He knew that his role in Todd's life was, as of right now, a confidant. They were friends, nothing more.
It's what made him confident in accepting Todd's offer to dance, taking the Angel's hand and discarding
his drink on the nearest passing platter before pulling the celestial being toward the dance hall.

"You know how to lead, right?" asked Stiles, his smile perpetual in his glee and mischievous in his intent
as he stood in front of the Angel. "I can't dance to save my life so feel free to take the reigns on this one.
Rest assured I won't be emasculated in anyway."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rory Daniels Character Portrait: Theliel Character Portrait: Jacob Character Portrait: Stiles
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the theme of this party's the industrial age and you came in dressed like a trainwreck
{ 321 Words | Sunset | The Aerie }


If Todd was honest with himself, and he often was, he absolutely loved Stiles' eyes on him; he liked
people watching him quite a bit. The eyes taking in his wings made him glow just a bit under the
feathers and made his shoulder blades feel warm under their weight. The eyes lingering longer on his
lips made him curve them around in a full smile, though; because being watched and having attention
on him made him happy, and Todd wasn't one to hide it when he was happy. The blush on the human's
face was only the cherry on top.

“You're blushing, Stiles. Be careful, I might just think you like the thought of dancing with me.” he
smirks around the words, leaning in a little closer now that the permission was granted, and when he
was pulled insistently toward the dance hall, he couldn't help but let the smile fall natural again. Todd
appreciated the human form, perhaps more than anything else in the entire world. The curves and drops
in each bit of the body was gorgeous to him, and Stiles was a perfect example of exact perfection in the
human form, and although there were many other equally gorgeous people around, Stiles had his full
attention at that moment, and he couldn't help but feel the warmth in the human's voice down to his
core.


“You know how to lead, right?”

Of course Theliel knew how to lead; he'd been dancing for a bit longer than humans had been dancing
and the proposition made him smile as he stepped forward, taking Stiles' right hand and pulling him
close enough to fulfill the position of the waltz, with his left arm resting easily into the dip in Stiles'
back. He left enough room between them to remain friendly, and let the air between them remain a
sociable mix of mischievous and gleeful.




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if memory serves i'm addicted to words and they're useless
{ 389 Words | Sunset | the Aerie }


Rory's lack of ability to meet Jacob's eyes only increased with the cold ball that formed in his throat as
soon as the angel began talking to him. The silence stretched on and Rory fidgeted, shifting foot to foot
as the silence quite literally made him squirm in an uncomfortable anxiety with which he watched
Jacob's shoes.

"Well, are you going to tidy it up?" the words make Rory squirm in an almost entirely different way.
The eyes centered on Jock's shoes immediately went from fear to resentment and malice, but he didn't
stop with the uncomfortable, anxious demeanor he'd been doomed to already. He was reaching up to
take a drag from his cigarette when the angel pulled it from his lips and flung it away and Rory had to
stop himself from decking the angel with a trembling fist.

"You know those things will kill you." once more, the angel's harsh words were less advice, more statement.
Rory followed his gaze to the ground where he'd spilled his drinks and the resentment bubbling in his
stomach immediately turned cold, sparked steely against him being uncomfortable, and maybe it was
the adrenaline, maybe it was the fact that Rory was already hyped, uncomfortable, anxious, and
practically out of his mind. His moods pulled him down, as they so often did, swirled his thoughts to
oblivion.

The thing about Rory is that he'll roll over for those he trusts; he likes to not be the one in control, and
moreso he likes to not be the aggressor of any situation. But Jock made two mistakes; first, he talked
down to Rory, and second; he messed with Rory's addiction. These two mistakes combined made a mix
that made it impossible for Rory not to make the next mistake;

He watched Jacob's chest and collar bone only for half a second before he sprang forward, and landed a
heavy punch between his lowest ribs, square in the center of his solar plexus. It was the hardest one
Rory could throw, and connected at the first two knuckles with a twist of the fist and half a growl out
of Rory's mouth as he did it. He snarled out his own order before the fist contacted the angel's chest,

"Say that again, motherfucker, I dare you."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rory Daniels Character Portrait: Theliel Character Portrait: Jacob Character Portrait: Lucien Character Portrait: Stiles
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{ Approx 220 Words | Sunset | The Aerie }





"Don't tell me you've gone all shy on me, Todd." Stiles teased as he laid a hand on the back of the
Angel's neck. He brought their bodies close, not an inch to spare between them. He was pleasantly
surprised that it didn't bother him. He wasn't flailing all over the place like he would've if they were in
front of Simon or some other Angel. Being surrounded by all these strangers was, ironically, akin to
being left alone with him. They danced fluidly with the music with unpracticed grace, their bodies moving
against each other as if they were one being. Todd's hand on the small of his back was a comfortable
weight, lulling him into a warm sense of contentment. His smile could've reached his ears for all he knew
but he couldn't stop if he tried. Without even meaning to he intertwined their fingers were their hands
were clasped together, rubbing circles into the nape of Todd's neck with his thumb. He'd never waltzed
before but no spectator would've been able to tell. Stiles laughed, his whole body moving with the sheer
intensity of it. "You know you're not half bad if I do say so myself, you're actually making me look good."








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"I don't have the luxury of leaning on anyone's strength, least of all an Angel's."
{ Approx 300 Words | Sunset | The Aerie }





To say that Lucien's mood had been soured by the careless tongue of one Son of Man was folly.
He'd been brooding since his Camaro pulled up to the gates, dreading the boredom that was
sure to come. After his little run in with the amber eyed human, he'd vacated the bar at secluded
himself in the grand hall. He leaned up against a pillar, shot of liquor in his hand, watching the party
as it unfolded. He was almost surprised with how well everything was going. Besides the predictable
word vomit coming from some of the human participants, the whole party was seemingly going on
without any fallacies. But of course events would prove to have Lucien eating his words.

Just a short distance away, a Son of Man—though not one from the Aerie—was quarreling with a
fair-haired Angel. It was a simply exchange of words but, like most humans, this young man was
careless. The Angel, Lucien came to realize, was an Arch-Angel. One he knew, if he wasn't mistaken
by the wings. It was a strong identifier, even with the Angel's back to him, and he was almost
positive that the Angel went by the name of Jacob. His suspicions were confirmed when he turned
his back on the human, showing his masked face to him before a punch was thrown. Stupid human

With a long suffering sigh, Lucien pushed himself off of the column and ushered a servant over. He
stepped in between the Son of Man and Jacob as the Arch-Angel turned, offering a nod of acknowledgment
before he greeted him, "Excuse my companion," he said as the servant bent down between
them to clean up the mess. "I'm afraid he doesn't know how to conduct himself in certain company.
It won't happen again, I assure you."
As the servant ducked away, Lucien cast his eyes down to the mess
and offered his hand to Jacob, "No harm done?"