_open: New Arrival

[azariel]

((This is primarily for Izar, but anyone who wants to post here can))

Azariel flipped his phone open to check the time. He muttered a curse in his native tongue, then snapped it shut again. An old friend of his was supposed to meet him on the road to show him a place where he could stay. Azariel hated new things. Hated them. It was only by necessity that he was in Sanglignée. His family had finally been driven from his home village of Chios, Greece. He had sent his younger siblings to stay with their grandparents while he found them a place in this new city. It was known even in Greece as a place where the Tainted could come and be relatively safe from the Untainted. And the Untainted were supposedly protected from the Tainted as well. It was the one thing about the village that Azariel disliked. He would very much like to force the Untainted to feel pain equal to that which he had been forced to endure.

Even so, he had things to do. He needed to establish himself, perhaps get jobs from locals to do away with problems. Azariel smirked and placed a hand to his belt. The cool leather of his knife's sheath greeted his questing fingers. His hand traveled up to the hilt, gripping it with perfect accuracy, though he couldn't see it. It fit his palm excellently. Anyone who tried to use it would find themselves holding an awkward throwing dagger, because Azariel had designed it himself, to fit his skill and his form perfectly. Only he and his grandfather would be able to comfortably wield this particular blade.

His parents had been killed by the Untainted, and now Azariel was an assassin-for-hire, killing the Untainted who had offended him and his kin--all Tainted humans included--to avenge the deaths in his family. He and his family had been to this village once before, but after a few years, they tried to return to Chios, only to find they were still unwelcome. They'd traveled around the world, seeking another city like Sanglignée, only to find that it was the only of its kind.

So he'd returned to re-establish himself. To form new friendships and establish himself. He would send for his family later, but first, his friend needed to show him a place to stay. And he was already an hour late. Azariel flipped his phone open again and snapped it shut with a frustrated sigh.

[izar]

Izar slid through the dark corridors, his wings hidden and his power taking out anything or anyone that threatened to make his presence known. One of his new jobs, get rid of the Country Killer. He sighed such a dull name but the man himself was far from dull. Izar shook his head slightly banishing the pictures from his mind. How torn up they were it was sickening. He was able to follow the scent of the victim's blood through the air. It was very hard to do. He found a dead end and had to backtrack at least four times already. When the blood of another gets on you, just being around that scent makes you able to be followed, if you could read the wind and find the slightest things hidden in it, that is.

That was how he had known where the shooter was when he attacked him and Masinori. He followed the faint scent further into the building. The stench of blood was so strong that it was hard to follow them to the man who had made all that blood shed. Need hung on his hip like a faithful guide. He could sometimes feel which way he had to go. He had no idea whether it was the blade or just instinct. He had his bow strung and ready. He heard soft cried for mercy in a room he passed. He tested it, the blood lead to this place. He entered the room swiftly and silently. The woman saw him and continued to plead. He aimed and shot in a split second. The man blinked and put a hand on where the arrow had protruded from his neck. He turned stared at Izar then fell. Izar went over and plucked the arrow out and threw it in the corner. He set the body aflame and burned the arrow with it. Oddly enough, even though you got rid of a murderer the law still didn't like you.

He left it to burn and turned releasing the girl. "Never speak of me too anyone, understand?" He said coolly and she just nodded, he knew that she would never utter a word lest he were to seek revenge. He smiled warmly and helped her out, he called the police to pick her up. He waited with her just in case something went wrong and when the ambulance rounded the corner bringing her into it's view he vanished taking to the skies. She looked around for him but never up. The people asked her but she just babbled nonsense. Izar swore softly, he was so late it wasn't even funny. He checked his watch as he sped toward the clouds. He was supposed to meet his old friend Azariel and show him to a place where he could stay. He hadn't heard or seen Azariel in years. He was surprised that he even still had Izar's number. Izar had been completely caught off guard by the call.

He landed on the empty block and folded his wings into his back and went in search of his friend. He found him and waved, "Hey, Azariel!" He said trotting up to him. He grinned and slightly counted a victory, he had found someone shorter than he was. Even though by barely a quarter of an inch, it was still something. "I'm so sorry I'm late!" He said leaning on his knees to catch his breath. "Long time no see, huh? What have you been up to?" He asked having some major catch up to do.

[azariel]

Azariel flipped his phone open and shut it again. Finally he stamped off the main road and dropped his bag on the ground. He walked a few yards into the woods until he found a thick Red Pine standing tall in the shady forest. He closed his eyes, pressed his palm to the tree's trunk and said a silent prayer to the spirit of the tree both thanking it and asking forgiveness for what he was about to do. He took out his long hunting knife from its sheath on his left hip and cut a low-hanging branch that was about as thick as his forearm and just as long.

He walked back to his pack and gracefully sank into a cross-legged position. He sheathed his knife and drew another. His much smaller and well-used utility knife. He examined the blade for a moment, hunting for imperfections and testing the edge with his eyes before checking it against his thumb. Unsatisfied with the blade's edge, he searched about for a large stone and leaned to the right to snatch one that was just within his reach. He set about whetting the stone, but only after he'd propped his cell up against his pack so he could read the time.

Thirty minutes passed, and Azariel had switched from whetting his knife to whittling away at the branch. It had slowly taken the form of a sleek panther. Azariel carefully worked his knife over the curve of the spine, making it more arched and kinetic. Next he carved the claws carefully, each one no larger than the width of the nail on his smallest finger, and no longer than half its length.

Azariel was putting the final touches on the panther's tail before he set about carving out the more important details, like the feline's eyes, the wrinkles on its muzzle as it snarled, the slightly raised hackles. It was in attack mode. Azariel was always in attack mode. The only thing more dangerous to an assassin than the law was another assassin. He never knew when one of his rivals might try to hunt him down and do away with him. He was used to it, so he learned to be always on the alert. His family was too important; he had too much to lose.

With a heavy sigh, he placed the panther aside and checked the time on his cell phone once more. He stood and shouldered his pack, musing the wisdom of simply wandering into the village and seeking shelter on his own. Just as he turned towards the village he caught sight of his friend arriving. He'd known Izar Draquia from his first stay in Sanglignée and knew he could trust him for help.

"Izar, my old friend," he said, returning Izar's wave and striding towards him quickly, "late as usual. Did you get lost?"

Izar jogged towards him, and they met halfway. Azariel noticed with some annoyance the smugness in Izar's eyes as he looked down the slight difference in their heights to address him. Azariel smiled suddenly as Izar leaned over to catch his breath. Being Izar's friend had always come easy to him, and he was glad that he'd kept the number when he and his family left the first time.

"Far too long," he replied, clapping Izar on the back, "much has happened. The rest of the wide world is not as kind as this village, and I heard there's a new Tainted group rising to power in these parts of the world. I thought I would come and offer my unique...services. I am loathe to say I missed it here, but the truth cannot help but spill from my lips.

"My grandparents and younger siblings will be joining me as soon as I send for them. If I remember correctly, you know the location of a travel-house where I can stay until I can rent my own flat," said Azariel, raising an eyebrow and studying Izar.

"And yourself," he continued, "tell me news of Sanglignée since I left. And news of yourself and your friends."

[izar]

((OOC: I hear you lost your ipod, ed! I'll look for it in the car for you. lol I just love the way you leave messages here! "Hiiii famibily!!! It's your Mainerd daughter." lol))

When Izar walked up his eyes caught on the wooden panther. "Still doing that?" He asked indicating the wooden figure. He had been new too the city also when he had first met Azariel and had always been getting lost. That was one benefit of flying, you could see where you were going from above. He was glad he was not the same wandering clueless wreck he had been before. He hated being late for things so he used to leave very very early for things, but now that he was more familiar with the small town he could go about without getting lost... at least most of the time. But then Masinori was normally with him and he had a fairly good idea of where he was going most of the time.

He stuck his tongue out at him and shook his head, "No, I was working later than I thought I would be. Fashionably late." He corrected Azariel. Izar refrained from making a comment about Azariel's hight but laughed as he spent a second catching his breath. "I flew all the way here a break neck speed." He explained. "I'm so sorry I'm late."

Izar nodded in understanding, that is why I am here." He said Azariel was one of the few people who knew what he did for a living. "Things have been getting out of control. Especially with Calliga." He shook his head, he disapproved of Calliga. "They would be lucky to have you, but I must say that I don't like them. Untainted people have been showing up all over the place. The guild is in a panic we can't even keep track of all of them." The guild was a secret organization that took out serial killers. They struggled to keep them down and take them out for the good of all, tainted or not. "I do not wish harm to befall my parents."

Izar smiled, "I always knew that you liked it here as much as you complained. Just don't show up on the list." He said warningly. He knew that if Azariel wound up on the list of people needed to be taken out that he wouldn't be able to handle it. Usually the assassin was very good at cleaning up after himself and leaving no trace.

Izar smiled, "How are the little devils?" He said referring to Azairl's younger siblings. "Still as active as ever?" He grinned. Kian and Kiana were typical twins. "Yes, I think I remember it well, I must have spent a good year there."

Izar smiled, "Things have not been their usual quiet self. Like I said we're having more and more deaths each day.. not exactly here but around here." He shrugged, "Near death experiences seem to like me. I almost drowned in the only thunder storm of the year. I was being watched by an underground black market fighting organization. They shot my friend and took me..." he rubbed his shoulder remembering the pain. "Not without injuring me first." He shook his head his silver eyes shining, "I was rescued by my boyfriend, Masinori." He paused realizing that he had just told his old friend that he was gay. "Basically if I get anymore excitement it might kill me." He laughed good natured. He left out the part about going crazy and the water.

He looked Azariel over, "What brings you back to town anyways?"

[azariel]

((Ta-da!!!!!!!!! A present for teh Pigeon!! <3 Love you Iz-face!))

Azariel looked over his shoulder at the carving resting by the base of the tree he'd been leaning against. He bent down to scoop it in his hand. After examining it for a moment, he slipped it into his pack. If his mercenary work didn't get him enough income, he could always sell his figurines. He was skilled at carving, it was one of the first things his father had taught him to do with a knife.

"If you paid attention, pigeon," said Azariel with mock annoyance ("pigeon" was his favorite nickname for his old friend), "I told you I came back because the rest of the wide world is not as kind as our quaint little Sanglignée. I came back for safety's sake, and I decided I might aid those whose price matches my skill level."

He smirked and twirled his carving dagger on his palm, before throwing it to catch a leaf mid-fall and pin it against the tree it had come from with the point of the blade. He couldn't help but show off in front of Izar. Their occupations were of similar backgrounds and objectives, so he was always trying to prove that his skill level could equal or better Izar's. His height didn't matter, his skill with a knife and stealth were his greatest weapons.

"I won't end up on your list," he said, giving Izar's shoulder a squeeze, "I can take care of myself."

"I did hear of the increase in crime," Azariel said quietly, "and I am prepared to offer my services to the guild should they be needed. I will not save the Untainted from themselves. But the Tainted shall have my protection."

"My brother and sister are well, and troublesome. Grandfather thinks they will split evenly. One an umbrakinetic and the other a photokinetic. We shall have to see if they are Tainted first, though with my family's history, it is more likely that they are."

"Speaking of your aid," said Azariel, "before you show me this travel-house I have something to repay you for your kindness."

He fished around in the bag for a moment, and withdrew a rather large carving the size of his forearm. It was, shockingly enough, a human. It was a human with wings, but it was the first and only human carving he'd ever completed.

The human was a perfect replica of the man who stood before him. From the lip ring on the right side of his mouth, to the individual veins of the feathers. Even the minute scars on Izar's arms were visible as small sketched scratches in the wood. He'd used a small match to burn a duplicate of Izar's tattoo onto the back of the carving.

Azariel had kept it a secret for most of his life, but during his first stay in Sanglignée he had not only developed a fast and strong friendship with Izar Draquia, but a small crush as well. It had, over time, grown into something more, and Azariel had painstakingly racked his memories to produce the carving as a gift for his old friend. He didn't expect to be rewarded, or even acknowledged for it. He was proud of his work, and that was all that mattered to him.

"A gift," he said bluntly, holding it out to Izar, "for all of your help, old friend."

[izar]

((I know you do! Haha, I like that as long as it's not Peacock! lol I'm liking the new sig!))

Izar smiled at the old nickname, "Well, I'm just skilled at only hearing what I want to hear, remember?" His eyes twinkled, "Yes, but you still like it here whether you know it or not." He sinked and laughed. Izar couldn't remember the last time he had seen Azariel that he had almost forgotten about 'pigeon' being his nickname. "It's been far too long."

Izar blinked almost missing the knife go flying. He looked at it as it caught the leaf, "Show off." He laughed. He put a hand Need((YEAH it's Need!!! only modified! ^__^)). He went and pulled the knife out and tossed it back at Azariel. He wasn't worried about hurting Azariel the day that Azariel got caught by his own knife was the day that the Earth would start spinning the other way and An alternate reality would come about with an evil Izar.

Izar smiled putting a hand on Azariel's shoulder, "You'd better be." Just like old times. They were competing to see who was better. Of course Izar had no doubt that it was him. Izar nodded, that was more than he could ask for. "The guild may very well call on you. Though don't do anything against your morals."

Izar nodded, he remember Azariel's siblings very well. "That would be wonderful. I wonder, would the twin's power's check each other? I know the elements do, no one can dominate another."

Izar blinked, something for him? "What? You don't have to repay me, we're friends." He smiled but was still curious about the thing that Azariel was pulling out of his bag.

Izar blinked in surprise. It was a winged human. As he peered closer he could see more recognizable features. The feathers were exceptional, there was lip ring on the figure's face. There were even tattoos to match his own. His hand shot to his forearm and the scars he had almost forgotten were there. The figure was a perfect rendition of him. His mouth just formed a 'o' shape as he stared at it.

Izar looked up into Azariel's black eyes. "You made this, it's so good." He said still stunned by the perfection of it. Izar took it awkwardly and stared at it a bit more. He placed it carefully on the ground and tackled Azariel. "Thank you so much I love it!" He said releasing Azariel from his grip. He picked it up and looked over at Azariel, "Do you want to come over before I show you to the traveler's house? Maybe recover a bit before going?" He offered his eyes shinning. "I still live in the same crappy old apartment!" He grinned.

[azariel]

((HAHA! YOU'RE A GENIUS IZY-KUN! Gomenesai for taking so long to post.))

“Selective hearing can get you into a lot of trouble,” said Azariel, remembering the many lessons he’d received from his father. He rubbed the back of his head ruefully, remembering the hard rap of his father’s staff when he misbehaved. Azariel found himself grinning. There had been reasons for his return other than the financial and social reasons. All of his childhood friends were here. Izar especially. Even if he was currently seeing someone, Azariel knew he would enjoy spending time with his close friend again. An impish grin passed over his face as he noticed Izy’s reaction to the old nickname.

“Our years apart have been far too great, indeed,” he said, smiling so broadly that his eyes closed.

“It’s not showing off. It’s a simple comparison of skill,” he said, his eyes flickering to the sword at Izar’s hip. He recognized the blade. Izar called it Need, and he often raved about the blade and it’s uncanny ability to always find the right place to strike. Azariel chuckled to himself. It was almost as if Izar believed the blade could think.

He barely blinked as Izar tossed the knife back to him. He caught the blade between his forefinger and thumb, spinning it artistically before sheathing it. He scoffed.

“Your lack of confidence offends me, old friend,” he said with a laugh. He perked at the possibility of working for the guild. It was almost a guaranteed job. Plus, he could more easily compete with Izar from a close proximity. He was grateful that Izar understood his inability to aid Untainted humans. There was a reason Izar had been his best friend when they were younger. They fit together, in Azariel’s opinion. A perfect balance. Azariel was calm and steady when Izar was bouncy and impulsive. And Izar’s unbeatable innocence (though far from innocent they both were) kept Azariel from becoming lost in his world of death dealing and money collecting.

“The twins would be an unbeatable team,” he mused aloud, “if they are what my grandfather thinks they will be. Knowing my grandfather, he won’t be wrong.”

He glowed with inner pride as Izar reacted to his gift. He knew he was skilled, and though he would not admit it, he liked the praise. He bit back a yelp of surprise as Izar tackled him. His face flushed—he hadn’t anticipated getting that close to Izar. He laughed, trying to force the subject change that Izar had started by suggesting they return to his apartment.

“I’d love to see that place again,” he said, shouldering his pack, “and perhaps meet this boy of yours.”

[izar]

((*bows* You're just now realized now amazingly genius I am? I though we covered that already! ^__^))

Izar shrugged, "I can get out of anything, remember?" He laughed, "I have that skill of getting in and out of places." He smiled he could basically get out of anything the wasn't directly attached too. But still Azariel had a point. He should listen better. He smiled as Azariel rubbed his head, he had only met his father once but he could see him being a harsh man.

Izar laughed and grinned at the size of Azariel's smile. It had been too long indeed. There was so much that had been missed and things to say and stories to tell.

Izar smiled slyly, "Well perhaps you should work a little harder, I think I still win. He noticed Azariel looking at Need, "Yeah, she's still around. She's amazing when it comes to fighting." He'd told Azariel his theories about her but he didn't believe him that this was the most amazing sword on the face of the planet. "I think she's been putting her influence in my head more lately.

Izar glanced at him and smiled, "Not a lack of confidence, just think of it as the bird seeping into me. Like a worried hen." He laughed. He grinned at Azariel's brightening as he mentioned the guild. Izar smiled remembering the old motto that was jokingly given to the guild. 'If you can't beat them, recruit them.' Izar understood Azariel's inability to help the untainted. He'd been though a lot, and unlike Izar who was able to push it out of his mind most of the time and act like he was innocent, Azariel couldn't do that as easily as he could.

Izar smiled, "That's great, I'm sure they'll become very important. Perhaps by being such a team they will become unstoppable and perhaps bring peace to the world at last." He said not really believing it himself. They would need a major miracle to be able to bring peace to the world now.

Izar was absolutely amazed by the figure. Every detail was perfect. "Word of warning, I wasn't expecting company." He smiled, "I'm just right down the street." He began to walk and opened the door to his apartment complex. Izar blushed and smiled, "He's so nice I think you'll like him!" His eyes glowed when he thought of Masinori. He pulled his key out and opened his door. "Home sweet home." He smiled and waved Azariel in. He cleared off a few of the chairs and went to the small kitchen. "Want anything to drink?" He grinned, he wondered if Azariel remembered his lack of culinary skills.

[azariel]

Azariel smiled and nodded. Izar’s skill at getting himself out of sticky situations was almost a magical trait of his. Apart from his ability to fly, of course. He was looking forward to getting Izar to stand still long enough to relate the happenings of the past few years.

A snort escaped from his mouth as Izar claimed to be the better combatant of the two of them. Izar may have spent years working for the guild, but Azariel had been raised in the assassin’s world. Though he boasted and joked, he knew that he was at least as skilled as Izar’s commander. He examined Need briefly, laughing to himself as he heard Izar once again personifying it. He shook his head and clapped him on the shoulder.

“A true swords master relies only on the skill of his arm, not the soul of his blade,” he teased gently, “what if you were to suddenly be separated from Need, in the heat of a battle?”

With that, Azariel ducked suddenly. He brought his fist up, holding the hilt of his dagger upwards to provide leverage to knock Need from Izar’s grasp. It was an old game of his, and he wondered if Izar remembered it well enough to react. A game it was, but also a test of skill. Often times when Azariel “played” it was to hone his skills. Leaf-pinning, shadow-stalking, and other games that Azariel had been raised playing were part of his father and grandfather’s earliest ways of imparting knowledge and skill to their young student.

“A worried mother hen,” he laughed, shaking his head. He looked up from his crouch and pictured Izar poking around in the yard like his younger sister’s favorite pet hen and dissolved into laughter, falling back on his heels.

“Yes,” he chuckled, “a mother hen indeed,” more laughter, “protecting her chicks,” gales of laughter, “but still managing to get lost in the yard she grew up in.”

He finally quieted and studied Izar from where he sat. It appeared that his suggestion to join the guild was well accepted by his friend, and of that he was immensely glad. He needed a more steady job than the occasional Tainted looking to off a rival without suspicion. The guild would give him just that. He was so distracted at the thought of getting his blades in a kill that he almost missed the unintended prophetic tone to Izar’s statement about his brother and sister.

“Peace is overrated,” he scoffed without really meaning it; “The Untainted have much to attest to.”

He stood, sobered by the talking, and brushed the road dust from his clothes. He beamed with pride at the admiration Izar showed his creation as they meandered towards the Aerokinetic’s apartment.

“So…what? I should expect the normal disaster area when we go inside?”

Azariel entered and kicked his shoes off at the door, remembering Izar’s roots, and suspecting that Masinori was also from Japan, and that they followed the customs of their homeland. He dropped his bag by his shoes and followed Izar farther into the apartment.

“He’d better be,” he said when Izar mention his boyfriend again, “or he’ll have to answer to me.”

“Yes, some water would be nice,” he said, looking around, “as long as you don’t try to cook anything. I would like to make it to tomorrow alive and healthy.”

[izar]

Izar was ecstatic that Azariel was back in town. When they were young they had mock fights a lot. Azariel would just have him then he would get away. Azariel often told him it was unnatural how often he was able to get out of things. Izar liked to pretend he was amazing but Azariel in the assassination business was far his superior. Izar had gotten a heavy handed commander and had been humbled more than once by his skill. Though he himself was a good fighter there were always people better than him. He smiled at Need holding her loosely.

Izar smiled he knew where Azariel was going with this, "I'd go to alternative means." He tightened his hold but Azariel hit his hand just right and Need went clanging to the ground.

He leapt back using his wings and pulling his bow and an arrow easily from the quiver he aimed. "Dead." He declared. He smirked slightly, "Dodge if you may, but remember my arrows have a tendency to come back." He shot at Azariel curving it just enough to avoid Azariel and bringing it back to his hand. He grinned and placed it back in his quiver.

"I don't know, my friend, I think we would end in a stale mate I shoot you throw." If there was any way it could end that would be it. Both of them either defeated or one just quick enough to dodge.

Izar laughed and tackled Azariel putting him in a head lock. "I'm not that bad!" He said releasing Azariel and glaring at his laughing form. "Jerk."

"Depends, there is never peace, there's a ever going war against a different kind of person." He shrugged, "I know that they will be the first ones to go if the untainted ever stop fighting us." He said with just a hint of bitterness in his voice. Most would expect him to go after his mother first, but he didn't know if he had the courage to do that, nor did he want to. She was an evil Bad Word but she was still his mother.

Izar grinned, "Basically." He opened the door and kicked off his shoes and was pleased to see Azariel do the same. He looked at book shelf that was stuffed full with books on top of the books and papers everywhere. He looked at the top and simply pushed the papers onto the floor then placed the wood carving there.

Izar smiled, "You're such a good friend, Azariel." He said happily.

Izar snorted, "You mean the evil liquid destined to destroy the human race? Yes you may." He picked up the nearest object, which happened to be a pillow from the couch and threw it at him.

"Just because I am culinary challeneged..." He said laughing and going to the sink pulling out a cup. He filled it and handed it over. He poured some for himself too and drank it warily like it was going to jump on him. He put it down and picked up the phone, "Want me to call him?" He asked wondering if Azariel wanted to meet him or just catch up for a while.