{About 335 Words | Sunset | The Aerie | Collaboration with Onica-Louis}
Seeing Ash have the slightest bit of fun always made Raz's night. While she certainly didn't know his entire story, she knew he didn't have enough enjoyment of his short human life. His life would be the blink of an eye to Raziel, but she wanted to help make it happier. Besides, he offered her so much entertainment, that it was all she could do to attempt the same.
Ash's comment brought Raz's thoughts to the future. "If only our feuds could be solved so easily." Raz changed her gaze to the small pinwheels on the plate before her. For a moment, she considered going hungry, the artful confections looked too good to eat. Food was the easiest way to get to Raziel's heart and the chefs a the Aerie knew her by name from her various visits to the kitchens.
"What are these delightful things?" The prospect of new food allowed her to find a temporary reprieve from the nervousness that had plagued her. She smiled up at her companion and urged him to take one for himself after she had greedily devoured a few. Embarrassing and hardly ladylike, yes, but she certainly felt better afterwards.
“Looks like someone's nerves have calmed down, after they got the chance to stuff their face.” Ash's quiet comment brought a blush to her face. She regretted not being a better representation of her brethren. Her behavior since arriving to Earth had been far from angelic, but the snacks had been delicious and she was always eager to experience new things.
The minute his strong hand touched her wings, a small shiver ran through her body. A small sigh escaped her lips as she smiled in pleasure. The soft caress of her wings was akin to a relaxing massage after a long day. It was nearly sinful. Despite the wonderful distraction he was causing to her wings, she heard his lapse into French, another thing Raz enjoyed about him as most of the humans spoke exclusively English. The rattled Raz was still able to see some form of compliment from Ash and it only served to deepen her smile.
"Oh Ash, if I'm not mistaken that was a compliment." Her voice was slightly breathless, but she managed to still sound confident. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?" she added after standing on her tip toes to place her hand his forehead.
In a small shed-like structure situated a mile away from where tonight's party was being held, a short-statured young woman clicked on a video camera attached to a tripod, pulled up a chipped wooden stool, and took a seat. She stared at the camera for a few seconds, her eyes making out the reflection of herself resonating upon the lens. Before she began, she turned down the volume on her boombox, which was playing a staticky version of Dexy's Midnight Runners's "Come On Eileen" in the background.
"Gaige Walden's log, day fourteen, approximately 5:10 pm."
She sighed, and then continued on. Her voice seemed somewhat strained. However, it still produced an oddly charming, deep, and bright tone to her words.
"Today was a very mediocre day. Research was mostly unfruitful, although I did manage to draw up some formulas for elixirs, as well as produce some new ideas. I'll talk about those ideas later. Right now I'll go over details about project A.W.D.R.F., or Angel Wing DNA Reproduction Formula. It's coming along...alright." She blew a few strands of crimson red hair away from her face, and then continued. "I realize that in order to continue, I'm going to need blood samples from the angels. With all that's going on, however, I know persuading them is going to be an indescribable challenge..."
She gazed out a small window to her right, and inhaled a large quantity of sawdust-tainted air. If only she wasn't a human. If only she wasn't the minority - the scapegoat in this world of prejudiced winged monsters...then things would be much easier to achieve. After a brief moment of silence, she went on,"As for new ideas, I'm thinking of doing research on the angels' weapons; see what causes bonds and how they manipulate the bonds in their swords and whatnot. As for my personal life, I'm starting to get accustomed to everything on the Aerie. Life's getting easier, although I'm feeling more and more cramped in this tiny little space every day..." She looked around, laughing at how she had barely enough room to fit a bed. She had had to occupy a small sleeping bag kept in the far right hand corner of the shed. It was the only place where she could put it. Her laughter soon died down, and with a small exhale, Gaige pointed her gaze toward the dusty wooden floor.
"Oliver still hasn't given me any other orders yet..."
Oliver, Oliver Snow. Her leader. The face of the Resistance. He had sent Gaige into the Aerie to become a spy. She had obeyed his strategic orders, and traveled up into the angels' new headquarters without any complaints, bargains, or petitions. She had gone the extra mile - creating a new name and using her talents to mold a completely different identity. After two weeks, he hadn't supplied her with any new information. The positive part of Gaige's conscience reminded her that Oliver was a busy man. This silence and solitude on her end of the line was only a part of protocol. He was probably up to his knees with new strategies and battle plans. (the physical combat-stuff that Gaige couldn't do.)
The dark part of Gaige's conscience told her that Oliver hadn't given her any new info because he had simply stranded her, and was leaving her to die.
Her shoulders ached, as they had become tense with grief and other heavy emotions. Quickly, she ended her video log, and turned off the camera. She buried her head in her hands, and then turned towards the small window pane that projected gossamer-like light from outside. There was a party going on in some sort of manor right in the middle of the Aerie. The multicolored light that flickered every so often lucidly entailed that there would be fireworks. Fireworks meant festivity. Festivity meant something big. Gaige was extremely tired from her toiling research, and desperately wanted to sleep in. However, this was Gaige Walden, and there was no way she was going to let the chance to see the angels display their culture in a blatant manner pass by.
First, Gaige would need something to wear, as she had no party dresses that would supply her the amount of formality she required for this social gala. Walking at a brisk pace, she practically flew across the slums of the Aerie, making sure not to glance at the human slaves who glared at her in a creepy manner. She felt sorry for them, of course, as she was one of them in a past life, but she knew that staring would only make things more awkward. (not to mention it would draw unwanted suspicion and tension towards herself.) Passing a square, she glanced to her left, suddenly becoming enraptured by the powerful marble statue nearby. She knew that face as though it were printed on the back of her hand - she had studied it multiple times before coming to the Aerie. It was the archangel Michael, martyr of the angels' arrival to earth. His death had started all of this; the murders, the kidnappings, the apocalypse, the wasteland that was civilization. The death of one creature meant the death of many others. Holding back tension in the back of her eyes that felt like hot tears, Gaige continued on her merry-turned-somber way.
She entered a quaint-looking boutique, picked out a clearance marked dress that was floor-length, and tried it on behind a wooden screen that served as a changing station. It looked like it had come out of a museum. Gaige didn't mind though - she preferred the old to the new, the ancient to the modern. Although people would judge her, she wouldn't judge herself, and that was all that mattered in her strangely knit mind. After picking out a scaly-looking mask, she made her way over to the cashier - an older looking angel woman who had a jaunty smile plastered upon her freckled face. However, despite her artificial appearance, Gaige couldn't help but notice the way she glanced up and down, as if inspecting the redheaded woman's physique. Gaige cleared her throat, and then presented the items to the woman.
"Just this, please." The angel gingerly inspected the dress and mask, pressing her gaze to Gaige's afterwards. "That will be 200." Gaige raised a brow, and checked the price tags once again. "No, that's wrong... it should be 150. The dress is 100 exactly, and the mask..." Suddenly, the woman tightly gripped Gaige's wrist, and leaned in closer, shooting daggers from her eyes. "Look, I don't want to scare my customers away. I don't want to make a huge scene over this, either. You will pay 200, or I am going to have to ask you to leave." Realizing what was happening and why the lady was charging her more for a dress that didn't belong to her kind, Gaige firmly nodded, trying to suppress the anger inside of her that might show upon her face. She payed the amount the lady charged her for, grabbed the items, and left. "Have a great day." the woman said, her bright voice hiding traces of dark undertones.
After changing in her shed, Gaige made her way to the manor. It was brighter than she thought it would be. She had already attended two Aerie parties already, but clearly they did not compare to the spectacle of this one. She felt as though she were living in some sort of dream. Maybe it was more of a nightmare when putting reality into the picture, but the facade of it all made the situation seem otherwise. Everything was soft, metallic, edgy, spicy, loud...Gaige could see a plethora of words form on the inside of her forehead as she passed through the multitude of wings and elegant gowns. There was definitely a poem that would be written later tonight. She entered the elaborate building, making sure to keep a proper composure, as well as a small smile across her face. Faces flashed through her vision like the slowed-down reels of a movie. However, none of them were of interest. She was about ready to turn around and ask the nearest servant where the bar was located, until she finally saw someone who she recognized.
Although there was a gorgeous mask hiding a few of her facial features, Gaige knew she was staring at Amelia Jasper, the one and only. If Amelia was here, then the Resistance was here. If the Resistance was here, there would be an attack tonight.
Gaige wanted to draw her attention, but she couldn't make herself do anything other than stare. How would she have a conversation about the Resistance and the probable attack without drawing attention? She needed to know about Oliver, and what his orders were. In fact, she needed to know about her own orders, and what she was going to do next atop the Aerie.
So Gaige just stared, not moving at all. Because she remained petrified, a human servant carrying a tray of empty glasses bumped into her. From the collision, glass shattered onto the floor, and flew in every direction imaginable. Some tiny particles even penetrated through Gaige's wrist, but she was too busy being embarrassed by the situation to notice the fresh blood oozing from her forearm. If there was one thing she didn't want to do upon seeing Amelia, it was attract attention.
Now, every eye in the room was pointed in her direction.
This is Earth now, or at least what is left of it; even though the Angels have not been long on Earth they have made a mess of it. This is the new world.
RPG
