Angel of Courage

“lets,” the teleporting was always an odd sensation, gabriel not so subtly brushing himself down after as if some form of angelic dust had settled onto his clothing during it. the archangel had never gotten used to it, the way it turned the mortal stomach he’d been given from his vessel. plus - gabriel was always up for cake. many would say angels didn’t require food, nourished only by the grace of god but - that didn’t taste like black forest gateau, so he’d have to disagree.

“i’d recommend the basque cheesecake, or the raspberry mille-feuille if they have any left,” there was a knowledge there, the brothers entering the shop which smelled delectable. “i don’t know, i think this change may even somewhat surprise you, cam,” gabriel continued their conversation from earlier, eyes constantly moving from his brother to the days selection.

“uriel’s courting death. not in the sense he’s being reckless, as in he’s…romantically involved with the horseman. and that’s only one of what feels like several new things,”

***

Blinking into existence elsewhere with the ease it took to breathe, Cam had never had any problems with his teleportation abilities, even when occupying a mortal vessel. But then again, Camael was an angel built to withstand divine battles of the Judgment Day level, resilient and tough, a true divine warrior. Meaning he could take one hell of a beating so a little bit of nauseating vertigo while teleporting was nothing to him.

Following Gabe’s lead into the shop, Camael looked like he was in a very good mood, the prospect of getting cake just making his otherwise cold steel-colored eyes sparkle. “Both.” He demanded decidedly, because screw choosing between two delicious picks. He can have both, yolo.

Eyes glued to the display counter, Cam leaned in, hands on knees, to shorten the distance between his impressive height and the display of confections in front of him, thus getting a better look. He still looked unconvinced at Gabriel’s words of warning regarding all the happenings in Hollow’s Creek lately. “Well, my body is ready, razzle-dazzle me.” He said in a flat, indifferent tone, much more excited about the cake he’d be treating himself with, mouth already watering.

-

Maya listened to his long list of titles. She couldn’t help but wonder why he had helped her. It seemed that maybe it would’ve made more sense for him to help Shaw with the whole loving God and swallowing the souls of sinners. Although perhaps given the fact he had to Google them, maybe his titles weren’t the most important thing to him. “Like Jesus Christ Superstar type choir or Gregorian chants type choir?” she asked, teasing. It was perhaps not the most important in the list, but it was the one she knew something to do with. 

While she didn’t know how to drive any kind of motorcycle, she did know how to appreciate a good bike. Her eyes lit up. Maya let out a low whistle. She took the offered helmet. “I’m not going to lie, I was kind of hoping you meant a different kind of ride, but this is a close second,” she said. 

***

“The boring type.” Camael clarified in a flat tone that showed just now pointedly not thrilled he was about the Heavenly Choir he participated in. “So yea, Gregorian chants in Old Latin. Very enlightening, much wow.” He rolled his steel-grey eyes, but his mood was much improved by how Maya’s own lit up appreciatively the moment she saw the motorbike they’d be riding on. “Her name’s Princess. You like? Tell ‘er she’s pretty, she loves that.” He was completely unashamed that he’d named a vehicle and was treating it more or less like a person. However, there was a reason for that as well, the bike formerly taking shape of a golden chariot to fit the times, and transported his divine self from battlefield to battlefield in the days of yore. Like any divine, sacred item, it had a life of its own, infused with the Holy Spirit. So it had its moods and personality in a way, if not an outright consciousness or life like a real being.

6. What inanimate object would be the most annoying if it played loud upbeat music while being used?

"Have you... ever been to Heaven? The heavenly choir is always singin', yo. Ya can't turn it off. I'm used to it. My whole existence is pretty much a loud, obnoxious theme song I didn't choose."

10. How do you judge a person?

📻 Fave song currently

Ted Nugent's 'Wango Tango'

🐷 Junk food you can never get enough of

unakite: what my muse’s ideal pet would be

OOC: A Doberman. But honestly, any dog really.

OOC: I think Camael never really felt 'at home' anywhere, really. He would say Heaven but it's not exactly a happy home, it has its flaws. So I think he believes he's an eternal wanderer, a little angel vagabond.

"No, bruv. Ya don't ask an angel that. No. Get the fuck out."

-

Maya watched the thing disappear, watched Cam teleport across the room and curled herself up against her headboard as protectively as possible. Now that she was properly awake her brain was working to put the details together. Whatever that thing was, Cam didn’t seem to have wanted it to get away. That either meant he was trying to get it off her or it was his and he didn’t want her to know about. She guessed the former, but the latter was still possible. 

Moonlight spilled into the room, illuminating it enough for her to see. Her green eyes went wide as she noticed the shadow of his wings. She had known that he was an angel. But knowing it and witnessing it were two different things. Her gaze flicked up to meet his as he spoke. Maya realized, belatedly, that he had already said something she missed. As far as if she was okay though, the answer was decidedly no. “How the fuck did you get into my apartment?” she asked, heart starting to pound in her ears. She had thought her apartment was safe. It was both locked and warded. And she feared who else could get in if he could. 

***

“Your window’s open.” He shrugged, casually pointing to the curtains fluttering in the light draught. He seemed completely confused at why was that even being questioned.

-

“You can argue all you want, but doesn’t make me not right,” Maya teased. She ran her finger over the rim of her empty shot glass. When he confirmed that not only was he an angel, but an archangel no less, she blinked once in surprise. Even having suspected it, it was still something of a shock to her. She had to wonder too how she kept running into these celestial beings. Perhaps it made sense after Warren that she would be meeting more of them. But she had met Cam long before anyone in town, save Teddy. She noted his sarcasm and wasn’t quite sure if it was directed at her. She didn’t think so, but it wasn’t as if she knew him that well. “So you’re the patron saint of runaways then?” she asked, “Cherry bombs and all that?” 

She had a few regrets. It was hard not to with how things had gone down. But she was trying to forgive herself for them. When Cam simply walked away from the bar, Maya stood as well. She fished her wallet out of her back pocket. Before she could put her own cash on the bar though, he had reappeared. 

Smiling, she followed him out of the bar. It was easy for her to feel at ease around Cam. Maybe that was strange, given that she’d only met him once. But she chose not to dwell on it. She was safe now after all, she didn’t need to be quite so hypervigilant.

***

“Oh, shit, no, I don’t think so. Lemme check.” He had so many duties and was a patron of so many things it was hard to keep track. He actually pulled his phone out and googled it. “Ah, yes, apparently archangel of strength, courage and war, patron saint of warriors, the angel of Divine Love and the patron angel of all who love God. Chief of the Order of Powers and one of the sefiroth. A gatekeeper of Heaven and Garden of Eden, Chief of twelve-thousand fiery Angels of Destruction posted at the portals of the sky. Personifying divine justice and governing Heavenly singing - yeah, I’m in the church choir, kinda embarrassing. Grants Power, Invisibility, Courage and Invincibility. Responsible for holding in check Leviathan, the monster of evil who will swallow the souls of sinners on Judgment Day. Gives power in interpersonal relationships and self-discipline. A judge and can, on your behalf, make sure justice is served. He will only help, however, if he feels you are honest. True story, bruv. Also kicked Adam and Eve out of the Garden of Eden. Waves a fiery sword around. Wow. They got me right. Nice, Google.” He stuffed his phone back into his pocket, after having read all that from the search list he got.

Camael had that place to live in thing down already. It was the most important point to tick on his to do list in his humble opinion, since it solved almost all other things that followed. Fiddling with the newly acquired apartment key to the said place and trying to adjust it to the Batmobile keychain which already sported the keys to his motorcycle, he suddenly paused in the middle of the street, lifting up his gaze as his nose picked up a tantalizing scent in the air.

Turning around, he found himself standing in front of a bakery shop and immediately, his mouth watered. “Cake!” He exclaimed, having remembered just now that such a place may have such a delicacy on its menu. Human-made confections were amazing. Eating was amazing - sweet, sour, spicy, salty, bitter... All the flavors and combinations! 

Without a second thought, he stuffed his keys into the front pocket of his ripped black jeans and pushed his way into the shop, grinning from ear to ear. “’ello!” He boomed a greeting right off the door to no one in particular. “I want to purchase a cake!”

OOC: Poolside, seaside, oceanside, any water side really. Until humans invented boats and the vast bodies of water got compromised too. Stupid navy fleets.

"That's easy, bruv. I hand 'um a feather of mine. If it feels like they're carryin' a ton, sinner alert! It if weighs like a regular feather, they're cool. Heh."

The worst part was that Maya knew she was dreaming. The loop had clued her into that, along with the difficult to read newspaper on the kitchen table. She couldn’t wake up. Instead, she was forced to relive that horrible night, over and over again. Sometimes it was the elder Shaw and other times the younger. She kept screaming, trying to drag herself from sleep. The smell was the worst part. She hated the way it lingered in her nose, even in this memory turned nightmare. Tears streamed down her face as she begged herself to wake up. 

Somewhere, far away like she was underwater, Maya heard someone talking to her. She woke suddenly and with a scream dying on her lips. Gasping in air, she tried to make sense of her surroundings. She was in her bedroom. That was expected. Cam was standing over her, staring at her chest. That was not expected. 

A small creature was sitting on her chest, staring up at Cam. That was fucking terrifying. She smacked the thing away from her as hard as she could as she did her best to curl herself away from the both of them. 

***

The little nightmare demon, light and small as it was with close to zero fighting power save for its sharp little claws, had been properly flicked away by Maya and took this opportunity to leap off her bed and scurry across the floor, passing through the nearest wall and leaving nothing behind but a puff of curling black smoke. Cam cursed, blinking into existence near that wall a split-second too late, his hand grabbing at a black wisp of vapor which just passed through his curled fingers like the incorporeal phenomena that it was. The thing was fast enough to take a good advantage of the moment of confusion and get itself a fighting chance against an archangel’s teleportation ability.

-

“See, then I feel like you lose the element of surprise,” Maya replied. It occurred to her then that she might be talking to an angel. Cam didn’t exactly seem like an angel. Certainly, he wasn’t as they were described in scripture. But he had appeared just when she needed him. She decided it didn’t matter. Erik could warn her again about getting involved with dangerous men if he wanted; she liked Cam. 

She felt the electric tingle of magic. It was how her own magic felt at times. She already knew that he was supernatural. Maya adjusted her shoulders, not entirely comfortable with the idea of the warmth she was currently feeling being anything but natural. She was grateful for the arrival of the shots for a distraction.

His words made her laugh, setting her once again at ease. She shook her head too, smile still playing on her lips. But what he said next made her brow furrow. Maya knew about the trouble between werewolves and vampires. She had a feeling though that wasn’t he was referring to. “Your sort being…?” she asked, “Because I already know about the whole vampire issue. Been there, done that, got a t-shirt. But you seem a bit too warm blooded to be one of them.” 

Their eyes met, gray and green, as he tucked her hair behind her ear. Her expression was soft, vulnerable and just a bit guilty. Still, she managed to smile. “I always look good,” Maya replied, “And yeah, maybe for awhile. But I should’ve done more, at the end.” She took a deep breath, letting her mask fall back into place. “But I think I was promised some kind of ride?” 

***

“Mmmm, I’d argue that.” He hummed then grinned widely, looking mighty pleased with himself. If he’d noticed her discomfort, he didn’t show it - after all, he couldn’t help it. Almost every time he shared a comforting touch and offered a reassuring word or two to another person, the sensation would follow and his aura would rub off some. It would be easier to ask a fire not to exude warmth than ask Camael to go against his nature and tone down the contagious and highly transmittable confidence, courage and resolve he carried with him and distributed like flyers, whether you wanted to take one or not. It was involuntary and hard to keep in check, if at all possible, and highly depended on his own mood. The issue was the same when aggression and hostility took over. Camael’s war paint left stains all over when touched.

“A fluttering arch-prick.” Camael snorted out a laugh. “I mean, isn’t it obvious? Lookit my halo, it’s amazeballs, how could you miss it?” Mockery and sarcasm obvious, the said arch-prick waved a hand above his head in a vague circular motion. “So naw, def not a vamp.”