“Drink the water, Kyran,” Gabriel had said, sounding amused. That should’ve been his first clue – Gabriel never sounded happy when he was talking to him.
The second clue, and the last one he needed, was the burning sensation that followed that first cool gulp. His throat was on fire and Kyran could do nothing but drink more water. Drink and drink until his stomach felt like it was dissolving and his throat was nothing more than a ruined mess. Drink until the unhealthily pale complexion of his skin alerted Rae that something was wrong.
“Kyran, are you okay?” she asked, shuffling closer. Kyran directed wide eyes to the bottle that was slowly emptying itself down his throat. “Stop drinking,” she said, and it translated to a very welcome command.
Kyran tossed the bottle as far away as he could and proceeded to choke up half the water he’d swallowed, turning the ground beneath him into a sickly red. He heard Rae’s shout from far away, as if he was underwater, and could see Gabriel’s smirk as though it was at the end of a tunnel.
Red, everywhere. On his hands, as he tried to ineffectually wipe his mouth. On the floor, along with half his throat. And tainting his surroundings with a crimson haze as fury broke past panic and fear.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Kyran gasped out, his eyes fixed on Gabriel. While his voice wouldn’t go above a whisper, he’d injected enough venom in it to make Lilith flinch.
“I just want answers, Kyran,” Gabriel spread his hands, a mocking smile on his face, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“You want answers?” Kyran repeated, struggling to his feet even as the world threatened to gray out, “That’s all?” The rational part of his brain tried to stop him, tried to point out the many reasons why one shouldn’t piss off a powerful angel, but right now rage ruled his brain and Kyran had only one thing on his mind. “You should be careful what you wish for, Gabriel.”
To hurt Gabriel.
“You want the truth?” Kyran hissed. It was more than the pain of holy water eating away at his insides. It was the pain that no one believed him, that no one took him seriously, that Gabriel was ready to kill Kyran from the inside out for the answer he wanted to hear.
So be it. Kyran would be the monster they already thought he was.
“I killed Elizabeth,” he rasped out, and the darkness inside of him enjoyed the brief look of shock that flitted across Gabriel’s face. “I pulled her arms out of her sockets and reveled in her screams. I beat her until every inch of that pale skin was black and blue! I crushed her eyes – such beautiful green eyes.”
Gabriel stood transfixed in place, his eyes fixed on Kyran.
“I cut and sliced and broke until the pain was too much,” Kyran let a horrific smile stretch across her face, “Her heart couldn’t take it anymore. It stopped.” He paused for a moment, to let it sink in, before continuing, “Did you know that demons have a spell to restart the heart?”
Gabriel made a soft choking noise, by Kyran didn’t let up. “And I started the whole thing again,” he whispered, inventing tortures he’d never even dreamed of, “I broke every inch of her body and spirit until she was begging. Begging for me to stop, begging for you to save her, begging for death.”
He took a slow step forward and let the gruesome smile on his face do the talking. “And do you want to know the best part, dearest angel mine?” he asked softly. Gabriel was white, now, and behind him Rae was looking green. “The best part was that I got to kill two people that day.”
Gabriel crumpled to his knees. Rae’s sick complexion was complemented by the horrified expressions on the others’ faces.
Gabriel whispered brokenly, “She never said –”
“Oh, was it supposed to be a surprise?” Kyran laughed, and it sounded shrill to his ears, “That was probably why she was gathering flowers. Oops.”
Gabriel met his red-eyed gaze, his face twisting into a snarl as he lunged. Kyran took a step back before calling his magic and reappearing ten feet to the left. “What’s the matter, Gabriel?” Kyran called out, desperately trying not to puke, “I thought you wanted answers?”
Gabriel lunged again and Kyran disappeared, ending up halfway across the room. “Isn’t that why you were hunting me all these years?” Kyran asked, “For my confession?”
“Why?” Gabriel growled, his wings fully extended. Kyran tried not to wince – the aura was draining him and he didn’t have enough energy to stand on his feet.
“Oh, dearest angel mine,” Kyran laughed, “Do you really want me to answer that?”
Gabriel started towards him again and Kyran disappeared into darkness.
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But because in one “Ragin’ Johnny Fuklaw” cartoon he called the person who was after him “Nimrod” - everyone EV-RY-ONE has extrapolated from the context and uses it to mean imbecile!!
Gunpoint gets enough shit from you! From Everyone!! If you search the munitorum archives for “Gunpoint Victory” it says “Did you mean Gunpoint Defeat?”
We are a proud people! We lost more in a single battle in the 12th Black Crusade than any other planet! Because we were there! Because we tried!!
We are everybody’s punchline!
From now on, you’d better look behind you when you walk!
Fanfic authors describing Gambit as smelling or tasting spicy is quickly becoming a massive beserk button for me.
I don't care how much Gumbo or spicy food he eats, it is not going to make his blood taste spicy. Spicy body odor isn't pleasant either. For the love of god, find another adjective.
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Stop tagging every photo of a pocket watch as being vintage. You're teen hipsters. You can't afford anything vintage that actually works. The pocket watches you are tagging as such were made in the last two years or so, with modern designs and mechanisms. A digital, "artsy" photo of a girl wearing modern styles and holding a fob watch, in color, has nothing to do with being vintage. You're not an artist for doing so, nor will your bland and generic photos stand out in any way for it.
Sincerely, a photographer who actually works with elements of design and tries to create pictures that don't cash in on whatever is popular this week.
