http://demon-mictain.livejournal.com/ (
demon-mictain.livejournal.com) wrote in
outside_omens2006-03-02 12:44 am
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
(no subject)
Date: February 20, 2000 - later
Setting: St. James' Park
Status: Mictain, War
Summary: War comes to get Mictain to the Manor.
Mictain couldn't tell how long it had been since the angels had left by the time he was finally able to stop shaking. He had ages ago closed out the pain, but he still felt rather weak and disoriented, still not used to his new form of existence.
Nobody saw him, of course, but no human had tried to approach the clearing even once. The aura he was giving off drove them away, and that was all well and fine with him. He didn't want anybody near at the moment.
He felt empty. He'd been torn away from the only constant thing in his existence, and it hurt on a level even he couldn't ignore. However, he just clenched his eyes shut and endured it, silently vowing revenge for Uriel and everybody else who was somehow involved in his Fall.
...Well, except for Raphael. But only because the healer was far too much fun to lust after to even think about spoiling his beauty. And that was all there was to it. Period.
Just as he had struggled himself into a standing position at last, stretching his now midnight black wings as wide as he could to check if they were alright, he felt the presence of another immortal. Not turning around, he summoned his sword to hand. It felt cool under his skin -- still dangerous, yes, but not holy. It was his sword first and foremost, not an angel's. Only now, secure with his weapon although he hardly had the strength left to actually use it, did he turn around to see who was approaching.
Setting: St. James' Park
Status: Mictain, War
Summary: War comes to get Mictain to the Manor.
Mictain couldn't tell how long it had been since the angels had left by the time he was finally able to stop shaking. He had ages ago closed out the pain, but he still felt rather weak and disoriented, still not used to his new form of existence.
Nobody saw him, of course, but no human had tried to approach the clearing even once. The aura he was giving off drove them away, and that was all well and fine with him. He didn't want anybody near at the moment.
He felt empty. He'd been torn away from the only constant thing in his existence, and it hurt on a level even he couldn't ignore. However, he just clenched his eyes shut and endured it, silently vowing revenge for Uriel and everybody else who was somehow involved in his Fall.
...Well, except for Raphael. But only because the healer was far too much fun to lust after to even think about spoiling his beauty. And that was all there was to it. Period.
Just as he had struggled himself into a standing position at last, stretching his now midnight black wings as wide as he could to check if they were alright, he felt the presence of another immortal. Not turning around, he summoned his sword to hand. It felt cool under his skin -- still dangerous, yes, but not holy. It was his sword first and foremost, not an angel's. Only now, secure with his weapon although he hardly had the strength left to actually use it, did he turn around to see who was approaching.