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For once in her life, all she wanted was a dose of boredom. It was an odd thing for someone like her to long for, but between the in and out patients of the ER and the unknowing house calls she’d be sure to get, she just needed a single moment of peace. With every step towards her flat, it felt like maybe she’d get what she needed and that whatever trouble she’d gotten roped into wasn’t all that bad. After all, they weren’t after her directly, but instead, had been interested in what she was capable of.
The brunette swiped lazily through a dating app as she walked, mindless in her actions until her shoulder collided harshly with another. “Crap, I’m so sorry,” she immediately spewed in the most apologetic tone she could offer. Lips parted to further add to the excuse when she noted shape of the other’s face. “Are you okay? It looks like you have a cut,” she explained, pointing up to her own forehead. “Do you need help? You should really have that looked at.” If there was anything she learned in the ER, it was that no situation could be handled if she didn’t stay calm and after the shit she’d been through, this almost seemed easy. “Do you mind?”
her body has always been an almanac of some sort, an atlas, a map on which every battle scar and abrasion represents the land she conquered and clashes that she won. she can’t triumph in every fight without a bloody mark, can’t always dodge every blade pointed at her and every object thrown at her. at least her mission’s completed. no matter how her face may look, it’ll heal, it always does, and what’s a little blood to a girl whose hands are permanently stained with red? it’s only when she collides with someone that she begins to fret, knowing that most of the blood her shirt’s stained with is not hers. she can’t let her see. can’t let her panic.
“it’s all good.” on most days, angel would’ve cursed her out, but right now all that she wants from this woman is utter silence and bitter apathy. “yeah, i hit my head a little back at this one nightclub. they have this sign that’s just hanging above everyone’s heads in the bathroom.” she knows her type. the good girl. the bleeding heart. the one who’d cut herself into pieces just to give something to others. men must fucking love her. “don’t i look sexy with all this blood smeared across my face?” she questions with a laugh as her fingers slide across the laceration, knowing quite well that her head’s endured much worse. “actually, i do fucking mind. leave me alone.”
glancing at her cellphone to make sure that she has the right address, she interrupts herself upon hearing the sound of barking, distinct and clear as it blends and mixes with high-pitched meowing. it’s been a while since the last time she was just angel, an ordinary photographer for hire with a well-trained eye and a professional set of cameras. it’s the last thing that keeps her from dissociating from the real world, from irrevocable detachment and blinding severance. her willingness to respond to clients is always a thing of mystery; on certain days, she’ll say yes and set the date, and yet on most, she won’t even respond, but there’s an image that must be maintained, that of normality. “ hey, i’m angel. angel reyes. the photographer.” she mutters, pointing to the heavy equipment backpack on her shoulder and the rolling camera case by her side. “are you loren scott? we chatted briefly in my dms. i’m here to take pictures for the adoption profiles.”
“ now, whose idea was it to have you tag along?” she turns to look at jamie, sparing him a brief glance before shifting her attention back to her weapons, four handguns and three hunting knives concealed in what appears to be a gym bag. the man of the hour, oliver evans, has recently expressed zealous interest in the south communications, but it’s his tender loyalty that already belongs to someone else, somewhere across the enemy lines. what is about want and power that corrupts even the cleverest of men? “we should do this, well let’s say, fucking never again,” angel scoffs defiantly, preferring to call him only when her shoes are drenched in scarlet red, when her knives no longer sing a tune of bloodshed. “it’s funny how i’m the only reason you have a job. i think you ought to thank me, you prick.”
wait , did you just see who got off the london eye? i swear , it was 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒. how do you not know them? i hear they roll with the 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 as an 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍 but what can you believe these days. most know them as a 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐑 with a reputation of being 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐃 + 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍. i guess we’ll find out who they really are and why they hum the lyrics to 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 by 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐗 in public soon enough.
“𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐒—”
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒 .
FULL NAME: angel reyes NAME MEANING: messenger, angelus is the medieval latin masculine name from which the name angel was derived. NICKNAMES: none, doesn’t like them. don’t even try to give her one. DATE OF BIRTH: october 25th ZODIAC SIGN: scorpio sun, capricorn moon, capricorn rising IDENTITY: cis woman PRONOUNS: she/her PLACE OF BIRTH: london, uk OCCUPATION: freelance photographer, assassin for the hands
𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 .
HEIGHT: 170 cm ( 5ft 7 ) BUILT: athletic, slim HAIR COLOUR: brown EYE COLOUR: brown TATTOOS & PIERCINGS : more than a few . tba DOMINANT HAND: ambidextrous, which makes knife wielding much easier.
𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 .
TRAITS: athletic, confident, efficient, independent, vivacious, competitive, determined, sarcastic, aloof, argumentative, arrogant, assertive, blunt, cruel, deceitful, erratic, hateful, hedonistic, narcissistic, possessive, power-hungry, resentful, selfish, SMOKER: yes, but rarely DRINKER: yes DRUG USER: sometimes ALIGNMENT: chaotic evil TEMPERAMENT: choleric ENNEAGRAM: the reformer LANGUAGES SPOKEN: english and spanish LABELS/TROPES: the action girl, the brute, it’s all about me, lightning bruiser, made of iron, villainous harlequin, brutal honesty, the hedonist, sir swears-a-lot.
𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 .
I. BORN AND RAISED IN LONDON. by the time she was 8 years old, she was abandoned by her mother and taken into a foster care system. a proper delinquent even at such a tender age, she was loathed by the foster team due to her behaviour and the fact that no family wanted her. there was also her record of starting fights at school, nearly being expelled four times, and then actually being expelled from two different schools and attempted arson.
II. THE MORE SHE GREW, the more the chances of her finding a home were fading away, but angel didn’t really hold much resentment, nor did she have dreams of doing something, of escaping her brutal reality. during one of her fights, angel was nearly arrested ( and quite severely hurt ), but she was saved by one man who happened to be walking his dog that day. he saw her bleeding, and just how despite the blood that kept gushing from her arm and nose, she was still kicking her opponent and standing on her feet. he helped her hide, but of course, given her mistrustful nature, angel refused to go to a hospital with him. he still called an ambulance and lied about her injuries to avoid any suspicion from the police, and while in the hospital, he found that angel was a foster kid and that her foster parents never showed up.
III. ANGEL WENT back into the system, but she did sort of keep in touch with michael, the man who had rescued her, and while he never truly said anything about wanting to be a foster parent, he told her that he could teach her how to properly fight and defend herself, as he owned a boxing club. therefore she could always come during open hours, while plenty of other people were there to train. she got a job there too and started earning enough money just to pay for basic things that she wanted, and over time, she no longer disliked michael and was quite fond of the time they spent together. while he never became her legal guardian, he was the closest thing that angel ever had to family. he eventually admitted that he was a member of the hands when she started catching up with his lies, told her that the boxing club was only a cover, explained to her in detail about the lives they led and i reckon that he was quite a respected and vital figure in the hands.
IV. SHE DEMANDED to join them, and michael of course obliged, and for quite a few years, he served as her trainer. he introduced her to guns, taught her how to shoot, and helped her navigate the world of crime and cruelty. angel was always quite pushy, so she did her best to climb the crime ladder, and she currently works as an assassin. she does, however, believe that after all these years of service, she deserves to be second in command, so you can count on the fact that she’ll hold this grudge. michael is a retired member and no longer lives in london, so she’s on her own again, but she doesn’t mind. when survival is all that you know, loneliness means nothing.
V. REGARDING HER PERSONALITY, angel’s not quite like most people. she doesn’t process things nor feels them like others do. she doesn’t struggle to understand her emotions because she doesn’t strive to understand them, she’s just used to the echoing emptiness. there’s only anger, and she’s always ready to bite back at any snide remark. she swears too much and can be seen as overly aggressive. she can barely control her temper, and while i reckon that can irritate others, it’s the fact that she is the most skilled in her area that sort of makes her tolerable in the organization. she is truly the definition of ‘ sorry for being insane, power-hungry, shallow, vain, jealous, possessive, mean, horrific, bloodthirsty, kafkaesque, demanding, pushy and all together a little bit off-putting do you still think im hot?’
VI. SHE’S A FREELANCE PHOTOGRAPHER. she’s not associated with anyone and uses this as her cover, but she does quite like it. she’s very skilled and truly knows how to capture the best scenary, people in motion, and also, no one suspects a girl with a camera that’s spying on her targets. among other things, she loves to collect knives, be it those that she stole or bought from someone. is a hedonist and will splurdge on the most foolish of things. loves to drive fast and her motorcycle <33 and boxing.
VII. ANGEL WAS GIVEN A CHANCE to change her name but the name’s the only sense of identity that she has. it certainly doesn’t suit her, but perhaps that’s the charm of it all. the hands can always say that there’s an angel watching their back / an angel on their shoulder, just for fun.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
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