No Snow. Players: stainsofblue, RomanHk Genre: paranormal? Rating: PG 13 Is this RP open or closed?: closed Notes: The lights in the women's bathroom were blue and flickered in an out, on and off; they seemed to sway, too, impossible to fix in place. Sky's face in the mirror came in and out of focus, smudged mascara, make-up that had clumped a little with sweat, lip-stick vanished except for the outer edges of her lips. Even here, the basses droned in her ears, she blinked, knuckles growing white on the dirty sink in an attempt to keep her standing, to stop the spinning in her head, the spinning of the world outside of it. She still hated the clothes - they weren't hers: bright and short and so sticky and tight in a way a corset just wasn't. There were small beads of sweat in the back of her neck but when she tried to reach back to wipe them away, the room seemed to turn upside down and immediately, her hand closed around the sink again. She needed some fun, they'd said. She needed to let go and enjoy her life - needed to become one of them. Rats don't get really drunk anyway, they would just feel a little tingle that's all. But then someone had found a mixture of herbs and sugar and tequila and now she was in that bathroom, her eyes wide and she stared at herself, trying to fix her reflection in place. It was when the sink started to make a strange noise under her hand, crunched, creaked and suddenly came loose from the wall, that her panic took hold completely, and stumbling more than running, she forced her way through the dancing, swaying masses - too many scents, too much sweat and kisses, too much noise for her tender senses. It made her head full to burst when she finally tore the door open and landed hard on her knees in front of the club. The city was darks, cars everywhere, a line of waiting party-goers laughing at her bloody knee. Escape was first on her mind when she scrambled to her feet and launched herself right into open traffic.
Purpose. This was what the mortals often lacked. They stewed and anguished, complained and lashed out. All because they didn't know what to do with themselves. It was not an enviable existence. Still, Ray never did understand how they came to the conclusion that death was the answer, as if a singular event could bring them peace. As if eternal damnation was somehow a more palatable alternative. The archangel shook his head, the motion reverberating as the world crawled to a standstill around him. Every last single thing. The gesturing humans, the pigeons scavenging nearby... the monstrous tractor-trailer barreling down the boulevard. It was the last which was the impetus for the exercise of his power. The behemoth froze a mere three inches from striking the mortal whom had drawn him to this spot. Ray frowned. He'd cut it a bit closer than he would have liked. But the girl was still alive. Whether or not she would remain that way, however, he had yet to decide. After all, it was not his purpose to interfere. Playing favorites was a dangerous thing. And heaven could ill afford to intervene every instance a mortal undertook an action in stupidity. Why then, was he here? It was a question that Ray himself was looking to answer as he took the opportunity to approach the scene of impending carnage. Several lazy, casual strides later and he was standing over the girl, eyes cast downward at her prone form. Ray removed the grey hood concealing his features to get a better look. A delaying tactic. A ploy to stop himself from doing that which he knew he would. The archangel reached out a hand. Immediately after, conflicting impulses attacked him. He pulled back. Hesitation. A resigned sigh. Then a move of the hand forward again as the latter echoed eerily through the unnatural silence. It wasn't long before he felt flesh beneath his palm, prompting his fingers to close about it. Ray tugged. The mass jolted back up at him, settling against his tall frame as the world surged back into action. Like the gears in a clock, each part seemed to gnash into the next. Everywhere, movement. Sound. Astonished screams and heavy gasps. Multiple horns flared to life, accompanying the screech of hastily-applied brakes. It all roared to a crescendo, finally punctuated by several blasts from the semi's cab as it lurched past. Only then did he release her. "I'd advise against doing that again."
Sky blinked, her head flinging around from the scene she had unwittingly caused to the man to her arm, now released of a strangely light and yet inescapable grip. If she had thought people had stared and laughed when she'd fallen on her knees it was nothing to the honking of cars and staring now. Sky blushed and looked down, shivering in the wave of too much adrenaline pumping through her veins and nothing to do with it. Her rat was roaring inside of her, wanted to run, to hunt or hide or likely both. It made her skin prickle uncomfortable with the effort of reigning her in. "You... I didn't..." she started but then stopped. What exactly had she not done? Tried to kill herself? Run into open traffic? Meant to do it? All of the above? "Uhm... thanks." She ended up, remembering somewhat late that this was the appropriate response. She still didn't like cars and traffic and modern life - it was loud and strange and after having it taken away from her for so long, they set her nervous system on edge when they were so close.
