talon watches sun. he watches the nonverbal exchange with west, however brief, and makes note of the specter’s reaction, which is to nod at sun in acknowledgement, look away, and float onto his back – uncharacteristically docile, all things considered. ( for as long as he’s known west, he hasn’t been one to act in kind to strangers; especially not otherworldly ones. ) he watches sun’s demeanor shift, watches his brow furrow, and watches frustration of some kind take over.

for all of his watching, talon can’t get a read on him beyond the expression on his face.

at least, not in the way that he can when he’s detecting malicious energies, assessing dangerous creatures – after so long at this, he’s gotten adept at honing in on intent, on keeping himself aware of the presences around him, on surviving.

so, why doesn’t he sense anything?

the answer comes to him in doses. i chose you, sun says, and talon’s brow furrows in confusion, and eyes narrow in careful consideration. then he says it again and their knees brush together,  and – looking into his eyes wordlessly, it starts to make sense.

it isn’t that he can’t feel anything coming from his intent – it’s that he didn’t recognize it, because it’s the first of it’s kind. pure, radiant intent to protect – with none of the doubt, fear, or chaotic uncertainty than any other presence has carried. every instinct he has warns him against the unknown, reminds him that tricksters exist, but he knows their energy; he knows how to spot a loved one from an impostor, he knows when something is wrong. nothing could fake this.

if that isn’t indicative in and of itself, then west leaving is. talon spares only a glance in the direction he’d been in, long enough only to see that he’s vanished – he can feel west near, and he can feel some level of uncertainty coming from him, but he wouldn’t leave unless he trusted that talon was completely, and absolutely, safe.

with his doubts cast away, that leaves only one thing.

he’s quiet and patient as sun explains, absorbing the information with a less than reactive face, but not devoid of feeling – in fact, it’s almost like the more sun says, the sorrier for himtalon looks. “… you feel it, you fix it,” he repeats, as voice soft and eyes searching his – still searching, but not knowing for what. whether or not sun means that he simply can sense a charges discomfort or danger or if his connection links his feelings to theirs more directly is something he can’t quite figure out, but… for sun’s sake, he hopes it’s the former.

the least he can do is warn him. talon doesn’t know how binding a connection is if it’s already been formed, but sun at least deserves the chance to walk out while he can. talon looks at him hard, but his eyes don’t say hard; they say caution, they say mindful warning, they sayunderstanding.  “… they don’t gather for no reason, you know. when i walk home tonight, i’ll probably pick up a dozen more. if i’m lucky, nothing worse will tag along.” talon leans in a little, then – not too close, forearm resting on his knee. “i know you’re stronger than me. i – i can feelit. but… it feels wrong not to warn you. it’s not just that i’m a magnet. i go after them, too. people ask for help, and i go. poltergeists, vengeful spirits, the occasional vampire… demons. and… it’s not gonna stop. you do this, and you’re going to be busy. you good with that? ”

when west leaves, sun doesn’t know exactly how he should interpret it. talon doesn’t seem to react besides a small glance in the ghosts direction. sun let’s himself relax a little bit, if talon isn’t worried then he supposes he doesn’t have any reason to either. 

instead, he turns his attention to listening. he listens to talon talk and he listens to the hint of sorry in his voice. it’s easy for sun to read between the lines. he hears it’s okay if you want to give up and walk away. or rather, it’s almost as if talon expects that? for the first time it’s like his charge is warning him to stay away, telling him that he’s bad news. it’s a completely foreign feeling for sun. hell, none of his other charges even know that he’s there. 

it makes him wonder. if they did know, would they react the same? does he know even less about humans than he thought? or has talon just been made to feel like he’s undeserving of protection. maybe it’s both. a delicate mix of the two, human politeness blending into a lifetime of pain. 

this entire interaction is the most human sun has ever felt in his life, but it’s also the least like himself he’s ever felt. his playful demeanor has fallen to the side, overtaken by a stronger need to protect. a need to have a serious and heavy hand. he’s always taken his job seriously, but part of his charm is the way he can act so arrogant, so flippant. mainly because no one but the assholes upstairs were watching. of course, he still thinks he’s the best guardian angel to ever exist, ( he’s also the only guardian angel with a permanent residence on earth to exist ) but he wants to handle talon with extra care. he wants him to know that he’s not scared, he’s not backing down. he wants him to feel secure in the fact that there’s nothing talon could throw his way that will make him falter. 

it’s a simple enough explanation, all things considering – it wouldn’t make sense if he couldn’tsee them, after all. sun just has to tear down the wall to see what talon does; the wall, between this plane and the next. there’s just something about that phrasing that starts up talon’s mind again, and his eyes blink a few times, brow furrowed in careful thought. wall, he repeats to himself, and it’s in the middle of him resentfully wishing that he had a wall he could build up that he realizes it – he’s the wall.

that’s why they call him ‘the divide.’ it sounds like some kind of legend, a prophecy, a divine title, but – it’s not. he’s just between there and here, as he always has been. he just exists, and the divide sounds increasingly like a very pretentious substitute for calling a human being a wall.

talon’s knees drop to the sides in an unintentional matching of sun’s criss cross, and his eyes follow sun’s until they’re both looking up at west, who stares back yet still. only, when talon joins in on looking, west’s disposition mellows – the ghoul’s expression shifts, brows raised and mouth quirked just a little into an almost smile.

talon gives an almost smile back, filled with a feeling of fondness ( for all his fleeting ones, this one lingers;  clouded by all of the uncertainty and doubt, but there nonetheless ) towards the ghoul. what’s up with him is that he’s the closest thing to family that talon has ever had, but something like that isn’t so easily said, nor so neatly explained; he’s just another dead guy, except he’s been bound to talon since long before new york city, and – in a certain sense, has acted as a type kind of guardian himself.

the ‘guardian’, who protects talon through haunting the shit out of anyone who gets too close to him. it’s well-intentioned, and appreciated – just, he’s no angel, that’s for sure.

turning his head to face sun directly, talon shrugs his shoulders – again, with an almost uncanny level of casualness. “most of ‘em are just passin’ through, you know? but, that one sticks around me. has done since… i ‘unno, ‘96? his name’s west. he’s no trouble. just… bad to look at. don’t worry ‘bout him.” west starts to move, floating mid-air now, and he too mimics the criss-cross position. in the air. talon doesn’t visually react, instead shifting his full attention back to the angel in front of him. this is still just… so, so fucking bizarre. “so, what now? you got… missions to get back to, or what? clearly, you weren’t sent for me.” stated as more of an unfortunate fact than a statement of contempt, his voice softens – like he’d understand if he never saw him again, and that this meeting was just a blip in the occasion.

the time for wishing for an angel has long since passed. there’s no need for him to hold one up.

despite the imposing appearance west has, if he’s no threat to talon then sun doesn’t mind. it seems like he’s been around for awhile, at least. sometimes it’s hard for sun to grasp what a “long” time is in human years. but by the familiarity between the two of them, and the small smiles given it seems like they’ve reached a level of comfort. still, sun’s guard isn’t completely down yet. around talon, he doesn’t know if it ever will be. there’s so much potential danger, and he wouldn’t forgive himself if his charge ever got hurt. 

admittedly, west is kind of bad to look at. but sun had a lot of time to get used to it, and starting off on the wrong foot with the one ghost who’s never going away just sounds like a nuisance. so, in good faith he nods a tiny nod and smiles. which, feels kind of weird. interacting with a spectral form, something he knows is there but not entirely. it’ll take getting used to, that’s for damn sure. but for talon, he’s willing to get through it. 

clearly, you weren’t sent for me. that’s the sentence that sticks out in his mind, the one that tugs at something in his chest. being near talon, getting to hear talon talk and the way he talks about himself fills sun with anger and overwhelming sadness. everyone failed him. everyone who was supposed to be there, and supposed to do something didn’t. and sun will be damned if he can’t right a lifetime of wrongs. 

sun the angel, huh?

how about that. the name is nice, talon thinks, and it’s befitting of him; and not just going off that burst of light comparable only to the actual, literal sun ( which, by the way, he’s still seeing spots over the blinding brightness of ), but it suits the warmth that he radiates – suits the gentle smile on his face, and the soothing voice that came with it.

if not for the circumstances, talon might dedicate more time to appreciating it; it isn’t every day that you meet an angel. it’s just that, though. how is it that only as he’s nearing thirty is he encountering one, when he’s been surrounded by every other type of supernatural creature for the rest of his life? guess it makes sense, in retrospect. angels are a famously rare type of being. in retrospect, it almost surprises him that he hadn’t considered their existence plausible before. apparently, there is a type of being that isn’t drawn to him like moths to a flame, and it’s the only one he’s ever needed to be.

how… about that.

“…yeah,” he agrees, and he doesn’t intend for it to sound so halfhearted, or to avert his gaze sheepishly; it’s all more of a side effect to the uncertainty of the entire thing than it is anything else. his hands fumble in front of his knees, fingers fidgeting and locking with one another in a mostly absent action as talon stares off, eyes unfocused. “nice to meet you, sun.”

when talon exhales, he can’t help but wonder how long he’d actually been holding that breath in. he’s felt more feelings, more intensely in the last five minutes than he has in a long, long time, and coming back from that is a bit surreal in and of itself. as he fiddles with his hands, his eyes focus suddenly, as though he’s seeing something specific – he starts looking instead of staring off, in other words.

at any given time, a handful of spirits can be found lingering near him; they come and they go, but they’re all drawn to him – at least for a little while. that is and has always been the norm, so seeing one isn’t what sharpens his gaze, or what tenses his shoulders with alarm. no, it’s the question – can he see them too, as an angel? angels deal with the dead, do they not?

he can’t think of a reason why an angel wouldn’t be privy to the sights that he is. talon is a human, at the end of the day. ( arguable, he hears someone think, somewhere, and he resists the urge to shake his head of the thought. at least demon is out of the question, now. )

his eyes dart to sun for a moment, widened slightly. then, they dart back to where he was looking before. after that, to a place near the register, where the ghoul most familiar to him stands with his arms crossed, looming eerily near the two of them with his eyes directly on sun. no way hedoesn’t feel that presence, right? even ordinary customers get the creeps from west – it’s part of the store’s charm, really. feels haunted. is haunted. maybe the guy’s just desensitized. when talon looks to sun again, his eyes remain wide.

fingers tapping against his knee, he breathes out again, and his brow furrows a little in curiosity; a bit of intrigue, too. “ uh… wacky question here, if you don’t mind… but,” pausing only to raise his hand with a pointing finger, talon gestures all around them with it.  “i don’t know jack about angels, admittedly, but you being one… that means you’re seeing this shit, right? the five –” in the middle of his sentence, talon looks sharply in another direction, and that’s about the extent of what an outsider would see or hear; what had caught his attention was an indignant spirit clearing their throat when he miscounted. “… six, the six human souls, in here with us? i’ve – i’ve never met anyone else who could.”

talon has a lot of emotions. that’s mainly what’s running through suns mind, because he can feel all of them. some of them are stronger, and some of them are fleeting but he feels every one of them in some way. it’s not necessarily distracting, at this point he’s used to it. but he’s a little worried, and he has this overwhelming feeling sitting deep in his chest telling him what he already knows. talon’s abuse and his turmoil didn’t stop at that idiot with a bible. sun has only scratched the surface of scars, and he can only imagine the trauma hiding underneath. 

even now, for a moment, he seems reserved. fidgeting. sun thinks he has every right to be. he’s never actually gotten to talk to his charge, face to face. no one he protects KNOW that they’re being protected. his people skills are beyond rusty, almost close to non-existent, and this is obviously a lot to take in. sun usually tries his best to be soothing, to numb pain and take as much as he can but right now that feels wrong. it feels intrusive. he should let talon process, and let him cope. it feels unfair to change his mood while hes in the middle of adjusting to this newfound truth. he doesn’t want to fabricate emotions, or feelings. he just wants to take pain when he can, to make healing easier. but he doesn’t want to fake security, or love. it feels like lying, and that’s the last thing he wants to do. 

he’s watching talon, silently. studying his face, and the way he exhales like he’s just figured out how to breathe. but he feels the alarm before he sees it. it flares up brighter than anything else, pushing to the forefront of sun’s senses. talon looks at sun briefly and then at something else, something sun can’t see. except, he can see it. he’s just not trying hard enough. it’s like lifting a veil, or putting a new pair of glasses on for the first time. the lines between the different planes of existence need to blur and smudge into one so he can get a glimpse of talons normal. 

and then he’s looking at one gangling looking motherfucker, trying to compete in the worlds longest staring contest. it doesn’t really startle sun, or phase him. he’s seen demons before, and those beasts are enough to desensitize you to most things.

even without the desensitization sun isn’t worried, he’s a fucking guardian angel. and he’s damn good at it, too. his record is perfect, and he has no doubt that he’s strong enough to squash any one of these ghoulish fucks if they really want to try him. his eyes dart around the room, just surveying the crowd they have, but as of right now he doesn’t perceive anything as a threat, they’re just... there. and he wonders how tiring that must be for talon, unintentionally taking on the burden of all these lost souls.  

sun had a lot to think about. namely, his entire world shattering. and he had a lot of feelings, too. he had anger simmering beneath his veins and daring to bubble out but he knew that now was not the time nor the place. it’s always his instinct to protect everybody else, but with the divide it was especially intense. that’s how it’d been since he first saw him, really. maybe it was fate. or maybe it was the fact that everything in his body told sun that this man — who looked fragile and tired and pieced back together by sheer will alone — was in the most danger anyone had ever been in their life. 

on some level, that scared sun. but mostly it filled him with the need to make sure that he was okay. that he was watched after, and cared for. that no harm came to him. he knew that the elders directly told him not to, but at this point he doesn’t really give a fuck. they let a child be abused and tortured for seemingly no reason and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t fix their mistakes. 

so, he wasn’t going to get angry. not with the elders, not with himself. he was going to be calm. because he didn’t want to scare his new charge, and he wanted to stay on earth for as long as possible and if he pisses off the elders they’ll yank him out the first chance that they get. he has to be smart about it if he wants to get any information out of them, so for now he’ll settle with a quiet anger and a brimming frustration. he’ll settle for his quiet existential crisis and the uncomfortable weight in his chest. as long as it means he gets to keep the divide safe. 

and then, he speaks, interrupting sun from his inner monologue. he introduces himself as talon and sun can finally stop calling him the divide in his head, because honestly it sounds kind of dramatic, and a little prophetic. talon, however, feels strong. it’s fitting, and sun quite likes it. 

   if anyone asked, joonseok would claim he never indulged in the casual pastime of people-watching — regular humans weren’t his favorite, nor were they all that interesting. still, sometimes the even more mind-numbingboredom and annoyance of his fellow squadmates going out to actually do things with their powers and lives, leaving him alone to reflect on his own shortcomings, forced him out into the world to… observe. sumi had asked, once, why he would do something like that — leave the dorm just to watch the people he claimed to inherently dislike and mistrust, sometimes take the occasional picture when something he found moreinteresting happened. she was likely the only one he would have been honest with, & he had. might as wellunderstand who i’m going to help someday. he understood just enough from his own experiences to think that regular humans were generally ugly, self-serving, disappointing. but occasionally, they surprised him. & far more occasionally, something like this happened, which raised his eyebrows and made him grin as he called from his seat at the bistro near his dorm to someone who was clearly not a mere human: “that was… interesting.“ the words are all-too casual, considering he’s completely certain he wasn’t meant to see that at all, the odd feeling that the air had paused around them, the quick save of a random person on the street who’d nearly fallen. but he can’t help playing around a little regardless. “did the whole world just stop, or am i going crazy?”

clinging to every word that leaves the angel’s mouth, talon listens like he has never listened before – and let it be known that most of the time, all he does is listen. only half-angel. half human, too. he doesn’t have time to properly deliberate what this bit of information meant beyond the confirmation that angels do in fact interact heavily with humans and human life ifbreeding is happening, because when the angel admits he knows little he finds himself on a whole new train of thought: what aren’t the other angels telling him? could it be his worst fear, is he a demon after all? the breath is taken from him yet again as he awaits the answer he’s been anticipating his entire life and he feels as though he’s at the top of the rollercoaster, about to plummet. about to sink.

and he does sink, but in a physical sense. talon lowers himself until he is sitting on the ground, back against the case and knees drawn close, forearms rested on his kneecaps. his gaze gets lost and he loses the expression he had gained as quickly as it appeared, his facial features instead reflecting no particular emotion, eyes staring at nothing in particular. so to speak, he’s back in his own skin – that reaction, that anger, it felt foreign as it reigned within him and as it left, an emptiness lingered in it’s place – but he is still faced with unfamiliar emotions. as the angel finishes his explanation, he begins to think he would be feeling a whole lot more of those types – a whole lot more uncertainty than he’d thought ever possible. to his right, west watches with sad eyes and for once, the specter who always has something to say, whether productive to the conversation or simply commentary for the sake of commentary… he says nothing. talon looks at the angel, and he’s simply in disbelief.

“ … are you shittin’ me? ” he asks, voice no longer angry or even accusatory; genuinely, talon is asking is he kidding? but an answer isn’t needed, and that realization is visible in his eyes. he’s not kidding. talon just exists – that’s what they said. he keeps in mind that there’s more the angel doesn’t know and therefore more ‘they’ wouldn’t tell him, and all it does is raise more questions. what are the circumstances of his birth, specifically? is it just fate? was he fated to live this way? was he – bad? did ‘they’ approve? have they been watching all this time? none of these questions seem worthy of vocalization until one horrifying one stands out in the bunch, and he answers it the moment it comes up. he says it as he might a statement, because it is one. “ demons are real. ” of course they are. of C O U R S Edemons are real, because he’s looked one right in the eyes and because there was NO OTHER EXPLANATION for the consistent, everlasting darkness that has loomed over him since the moment he was born! there was a hell, after all! there was reason for the things that happened to him outside of humanity’s inability to understand what was different from them.

fickle fingers pad against the scar on his cheek that ended at his jaw and he remembers flashes of then – for a second he thinks he’s there again, but the aforementioned warmth the angel radiated kept him grounded – and he starts really looking at the angel, rather than looking through him. “ the divide… if i just exist, then… the angels, heaven, they’re not, they’re not really mad at me after all? i mean –” talon holds his cheek, eyes darting away and widening once more in horror as he hears the pastors cries to god to banish the evil within him as clearly as the first time he heard them. “ i’ve seen demons, you know. there’s one that i see a lot, but i didn’t think it was the biblical kind… but the – the pastor, he thought i was, because of my powers. he performed an exorcism, almost killed me. he was a man of God, and i didn’t think such a thing existed, so, i thought he was wrong… but it does, so, was he right? am i a demon? is this – divide, evil? ”

watching the way he slumps against the bookshelf, sliding to the ground, sun feels a lump develop in his throat. it’s somehow the most human he’s ever felt in his life, and it’s terrifying. slowly, and carefully, he makes his way over. he’s hyper aware of the fact that even though the divide is no longer angry, there are still boundaries. but he takes a risk, and he sits down next to him. for some reason he feels like that’s the human thing to do. 

the comment about demons strikes him as odd. mainly because they hadn’t even entered his train of thought before then. in sun’s mind there was no correlation, but as soon as he continues speaking he understands. he asks if the angels are mad at him. and sun understands. he understands how easy it is to correlate the divides abilities to evil. that alone is enough to make him want to protect him. to let him know that he’s nowhere close to evil. 

when he goes on to explain – it’s like something in sun breaks. his faith, maybe? was this what the elders intentionally hadn’t told him? that they’d just sat by while one of their followers with a god complex tortured a little boy? and for what reason? because sun was having some serious trouble coming up with one good enough to justify what they’d done. they could have easily stepped in, he knew that. he’d seen it first hand. small miracles, subtle enough that no one would have even noticed. they do it every day, and yet they sat back and watched the divide suffer. for a moment he thinks he might throw up. 

“you are so so far from evil.” he takes a breath, actually looking at the scars that adorn his face. sadness flares up in his chest, making it hard to breathe. “you are so far from evil, the fact that – that you were even allowed to be tortured by that fucking idiot...” sun looks over at him, trying to catch his gaze, “demons exist, but you are far from one.”

so many things are swimming in his mind at once. everything he thought he knew about the angels were brought into question. if they had so willingly turned a blind eye to what was happening – were they really good at all? how did they get to pick and choose so easily who was deserving of salvation and who wasn’t? the only reason he was even okay with his job, what he did, is because he felt like he was doing good for the world. but if angels weren’t good it put his entire line of work into question. there were so many things he wanted to bring up to the elders, so many things he wanted to ask. like how they could just sit by and let innocent people suffer. in a way he felt defeated, and alone. but overall he felt angry and so sad for this boy. 

talon doesn’t take his eyes off of the stranger in front of him for even a second; even if he isn’t at the moment concerned for his own welfare, he’s been around far too long and been unprepared far too many times in the past to underestimate the supernatural, from ofwhatever variation they may be. this time is no different. a single finger is held up to him as their interaction is put on hold, literally, and his eyebrows furrow in passive curiosity as he expects to see the other pull out a phone but what happens next isn’t just unbelievable – it isabsolutely inconceivable.

brilliant light fills the air between them with rays so strong that the sun itself paled in comparison, and the wind is taken from talon’s very lungs. he stumbles backwards and his arms bend in front of his eyes to take shield, head as light as if he’d stood up too quickly and eyeballs aching ( you see, talon’s shop is kept at a particularly low light – he prefers it this way, as he does all of the areas he frequents ) from the sudden exposure. talon doesn’t stop backing up until he hits a bookcase that damn near falls over when he almost falls backwards, but he manages to find his footing just in time and steady it with both of his hands. with his head dipped and his eyes closed he grips the wood, fingernails digging into loose chips and breath steadily catching itself… that is, until he looks up and forces himself to squint through the brightness and look at an ethereal force that he can only describe as…angelic. no, it couldn’t be that. he is something, something wicked, and talon’s convinced of that much.

while his company ceases his glow and composes himself, not so much as a muscle twitches and he is completely silent; all of his energy – every last bit – is powered into sorting possible lore that could tell tale of a creature such as he. his eyes no longer squint but rather set his expression into fixed concentration, intense focus, and just a touch of intrigue. show yourself, your real self, he thinks. and then talon gets the answer he so eagerly beckons for.

immediately, he wishes he hadn’t gotten an answer and instead been called out on his own flipping of the question. immediately, he wishes with all his might that he’d not even askedthe damned question. he even goes as far as to wish he didn’t come into work today and just left the shop closed ‘for maintenance’, he wishes for any set of circumstances that wouldn’t have led him here: here, that is standing face to face with the one creature he had beencertain didn’t exist. a creature directly linked to the heaven he hadn’t had reason to believe in, and a creature that proved the existence of the system of heaven vs. hell that he has feared more than anything for the entire duration of his life. the system that his faithdepended on believing did not exist.

despite not being one to wear his emotions ( namely, fear ) in even the most dire of circumstances, the true face of horror fills his expression for a solid one, two, three, four seconds before his stare resumes – this time greater in intensity and harboring subtle but nonetheless apparent hints of what he must be feeling underneath his shell of stone. his furrowed brow highlights the disbelief in what he’s hearing, stubborn even as his own initial thoughts of the glow are proven to him. his unblinking eyes showcase his fury, his anger that such beings exist and must have heard his cries, and done nothing! the only angel he’s ever believed, counted on, wasn’t an angel but a brother, a lost spirit dedicated to him for reasons he doesn’t know. and finally, the fear that summons his tears – droplets form at his waterline and he is struck all at once with the realization that heaven is real… and by extension, so ishell.

from his right calls a cry of his name and a rush of cold comes from that direction before settling right in next to him, and unless the so called angel could see spirits, this bit of information would not be privy to him. talon doesn’t look at west, he doesn’t give any indication that he’s being talked to by anyone, but let it be known that west’s soothing words are what drive talon to stand straight and to find the strength to speak. an invisible hand steadies him by the shoulder. “ if that’s true… if Heaven’s angels exist, then why don’t you know that? why don’t you know what i am? why didn’t any of you – why didn’t any… ” his question, why didn’t anyone help me, gets lost in a hitch of breath that he takes to calm himself. head shaking, he struggles not to sob outright – talon swallows tightly, his gaze growing angrier with the second. he can’t remember the last time he reacted to anything like this, and he isn’t positive he has ever. “ nevermind that. what did they tell you? what the fuck am i? human? not? just real fuckin’ unlucky? ”

although raising his voice in any other condition would have startled him, it was of no concern to him in the heat of the moment. as near as he can figure, he’s already doomed to eternal damnation – an exorcism was once performed on him! – and abandoning his timid, forgiving, and passive nature in one of the many eyes of the Lord would most certainly not be what sealed his fate. no, nothing he did would be. his fate was sealed the second his soul formed and he’s always believed that to some degree, but now, he knows it.

sun notes the way the divide has backed into a bookshelf, and for a moment he thinks he probably should have given a warning. he wasn’t really used to the whole ‘outwardly-being-an-angel’ thing. he made a small mental note that next time – if there was a next time – he’d have to offer a pair of sunglasses first. and then the atmosphere abruptly changes. maybe he was too outright with the whole angel thing. 

this was the first time he’d even had an opportunity to tell someone and he defaulted to his normal demeanor, which in hindsight probably wasn’t the best way to let people know that a higher power exists. although the reaction he gets is not one that he’d even considered. shock, maybe, but not pure fear. and then, after that, anger? he wonders if this entire thing was a mistake, if somehow his angel-human body had gotten this totally fucked up. he wonders what could have possibly happened in this young man’s life that led him to be fearful and angry at angels. all sun had ever known is that angels were the good in the world, creating miracles and saving souls. they were the divine interference that combated evil every day.

so why was this man so angry? sun was trying to take it all in, the implications of his words, the question he’d just been asked. the raising of his voice. it’s not like he knew him that well, but the act of yelling seemed extremely uncharacteristic. it didn’t fit his earlier demeanor at all, it specifically changed when he mentioned the whole ‘angel’ thing. why hadn’t someone told the divide who he was? what he was capable of and why? in all honesty it was making his head hurt, and planting a dangerous seed of doubt in his mind. 

“i’m only half angel.” his voice is slow, calm. trying his best at somewhat soothing. the anger doesn’t scare him, but it’s not a feeling or emotion he wants to continue any longer. the last thing he wants is for the divide to be angry at him specifically. “other half human. there’s a lot of shit i don’t know, and a lot of things they don’t tell me.” probably because i do things like this, he keeps that thought to himself. there’s a pause, and sun is trying to choose his words very carefully, because he has a feeling the answer he has to give is not going to be very helpful or reassuring at all. 

he can relate to the want or need to know where you come from. he’s had so many years of searching for himself, for his roots, for a reason as to why someone made him exist. sun knows that ‘shit just happens’ is the last thing anyone wants to hear. especially someone like the divide, who has apparently gone his whole life with no idea. 

for someone who was everything but, talon’s day was turning out to be remarkably average. not a single thing aligned on the side of unusual, outside of the fact that the lack of abnormalities actually created one for someone so used to the chaos. gaze locked on the title that his finger pressed the bind of to secure it’s place, he finds himself lost in a train of thought – even in that, all he has on his mind is what he has left to do today before closing time. with a quick glance to the grandfather clock he confirms that he’s got just a little more than fifteen minutes before his working day ends… and nothing to do, actually. oh well. it’s not like that’s something to complain about or anything, but it does leave someone like talon – someone who always has to deal with something, be it a ghoul or a customer ( or god forbid, both. ghouls are lousy customers. ) – on the restless side of things. what was there todo with himself?

as if on cue, what he considers normalcy is brought back into play when something – he doesn’t know what the fuck it is, but the pleasant warmth that fills every fiber of his being is nothing of the likes he’s ever felt, not naturally, so either a presence or a witchery must be afoot – enters the shop, inquiring exactly what talon was. a regular old crossroads, it seemed. regular for talon. without a word, his feet draw nearer to the other until he’s only a few inches away from his face, startlingly casual for a man in his position, and he leans yet even closer to get a long look at his face. he then tilts his head to look at the side of them, as far back as he could, and he even made note of the others scent ( yes, he was that near ) before making a more socially acceptable amount of distance between them again.

how weird, he thinks. it’s just a dude. then again… so am i. his expression, which is usuallynone, shifts into subtle inquisition with the cock of his eyebrow as he meets the other’s gaze and his long awaited response comes to fruition: a shrug. that’s right. talon shrugs his goddamn shoulders at the question of what he is – because he doesn’t know that. how is he supposed to fuckin’ know that? he’s been asking anyone who would listen ( and anyone whowouldn’t, mind you ) that question for as long as he can remember. either no one could hear him or no one wanted to, and whichever it was, it didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of the universe anyway. “ i ‘unno. i’ll let you know if i find out, i guess. the fuck are you? ” as blunt and to-the-point as his word choice is, the tone he delivers in them in is simply calm.

he was only slightly sorry about how rude he sounded. it wasn’t like him to be so forward and to the point, but he quite literally felt like he’d been turned inside out. every alarm in his body was going off at once. it’s a feeling that’s hard to describe, but to paraphrase – it fucking sucks. he didn’t have much more time to think about the manners involved because there was quite literally less than an inch between the two of them. if he’d had any doubts before about whether or not this weird dude was human, the guy stepping up to sniff him put all inhibitions at bay. although, for all intents and purposes he looked pretty human. sun has hard to learn the hard way that someone of the most dangerous things do. 

when he finally steps back, sun feels a tiny bit of relief. like for a second he thought he was about to have to go full angel and start a fight in this book store. what he does next isn’t any much better. the guy just shrugs – shrugs – and then in the most monotone (or rather, calm) voice he’s ever heard, turns it back on sun. which, honestly, he probably should have expected. “hold on, just need a second.”  a finger comes up like he’s some business man telling the barista to wait while he takes a call. and then he’s, in the most dramatic way possible, trying to get in touch with the elders. there’s honestly a pretty bad system. because of his human half he doesn’t have the ability to just hop up there, he has to be summoned. which means that any time he needs to get in touch he has to put in a “call” so to speak, and just pray to god (literally) that someone answers. 

from the outside, it just looks like sun is glowing. there’s an iridescent light surrounding him, making him look the most like an angel he ever has. it’s not even a soft glow, it’s actually quite bright. to most humans they’d need to squint just to be able to keep their eyes on him. and then, in the least dramatic way, he just starts talking to the sky. “o holy ones, is there an elder there?” (the first half is sarcastic, which the angels do not appreciate) “yes, hi. what the hell is going on?” in not so many words they basically explain that sometimes shit just happens. sometimes people just exist, whether it be because there was a complication at birth, or because it’s just simply their destiny. they just exist every once and awhile. before leaving they remind sun not to get involved, to focus on his charges and to leave the divide alone which sun very pointedly ignores. coming down from that is a little tricky, it takes a lot of energy out of him, so for a minute he’s just kind of standing there slumped over and out of breath. 

    “technically, no one dies from stress. you can stress yourself out and the toll can cause you to have a heart attack or a stroke, which may or may not kill you. so the heart attack or stroke will kill you, not the stress itself.” he’d always had a habit of overanalyzing things, but that was actually made him so good at what he did, and that was why he had been hired by the hospital on the spot. he gave him a tight smile. “i already have, but thank you for giving me permission,” he said sarcastically, reaching for one of the files he had stacked up in the pile a few moments before, flicking it open and picking uip his pen. “i’ve studied medicine for a long time, sun. of course i can spot when someone’s faking - it’s not that hard to do.” reyansh’s pen stopped moving across the paper and he looked up at him. he stared at him blankly for a second, before letting out a loud laugh. “are you serious?”

    reyansh sighed at the question, dragging his hand down his face. the other male was beginning to sound just like his mother, and he couldn’t help but be a little peeved by it. “breaks are for people who aren’t trying to move up in their profession.” that was the same answer he gave his mother whenever she asked him when he was going to take a break and slow down. it seemed as though ever since he had graduated from medical school and moved on to do his residency that he hadn’t slowed down one bit. “if you hadn’t noticed, my name isn’t jack, so..” he shrugged, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. he quirked up an eyebrow at sun’s half assed attempt at trying to show that he was in pain. he had seen many patients in his short time working at the hospital, and none of them contorted their body like that when they were in pain. and if they did, they wouldn’t be able to take about it, they’d be too busy crying and screaming. “yeah, you’re full of shit.” he rolled his eyes, smiling slightly. “why are you really here?”

it’s been a pretty good day so far. he successfully stopped a charge from running blindly into traffic, he got to eat some really good ice cream, and now he was enjoying a nice stroll. as far as days went, getting to be completely smug about your guardian angel capability and also eating ice cream was about as good as it got. that is until he literally can feel every alarm in his body going off. it takes a second to determine it’s not one of his charges, and a bit of relief settles in his chest. now all he had to figure out was who the fuck it actually was. 

he let his feet, and spidey sense, direct him to the source. finally, he stopped in front of what looked like a small bookstore. for a second he wondered if the books were in great peril but the sight of a young man through the window almost knocked the breath out of him. whatever he was, it wasn’t entirely human. sun had no fuckin’ clue what he was but he knew that he was in the greatest danger he’d ever felt. literally. walking inside felt like he was being pulled like a magnet, everything in him was telling him to protect.