The time was nearing two, maybe three hours since the sun had set, eight o’clock she believed the humans called it, or very near to in one of the months during the middle of winter. It was cold, one of those days where your breath turned to mist in the air and frost covered the grass, or at least the small stirps alongside the paths of the large city. Clouds covered the moon, what little of it there was, and those clouds were dark and ominous. A burst of lightning and a crack of thunder peeled across the night sky, before the heavens opened and rain, a freezing cold rain, began pouring down.
It was as if heaven itself were angry, and, considering the events that had just transpired, there was a good chance it was. It was true that god wasn’t overly fond of the angels that had descended to earth and bred with humans, creating creatures called nephlim that he wasn't apparently overly fond of either, but still it was always expected he be angry when something would dare to attack one of his grand children, it was things like this that caused natural disasters to occur. No doubt the freezing rain would come for several days after this.
The incident in question, had been an attack on a nephilim, she had been shot, but had managed to escape immediate threat by taking to the sky. Pain shot through the girl’s body and she didn't manage to get far before she plummeted to the ground, a fall that would have killed the unlucky. Ferin, however, had this strange habit of being ridiculously lucky. The fall didn’t kill her, though it did hurt like... well hell, and she heard a concerning snap. Lying on the ground, on the side of the road in pain the girl groaned and struggled for a few moment, slowly pushing herself off the gravel.
She couldn’t afford to stop. Her right wing, usually a beautiful golden colour in the sun, hung limply at her side, broken, useless. Her right arm also hung limp, blood seeping onto her shirt from the stab wound to the shoulder. She looked around, spotting a shadow across the road and retreated a few hasty steps, limping slightly and letting out a gasp in pain. She felt cold, and was shivering in the rain, and she tried to evaluate how big of a threat they might be, whether she should run or try to stay and... fight? God she was over fighting.
The shadow was the form of a lean man, likely walking home in the rain, his long coat pulled tight around him. His short, shaggy hair was plastered to his forehead as he hunched over in the cold and wet. His face had gone unshaven for a few days, though there was the line of a usually well-trimmed beard along his jaw and chin. His boots crunched on the gravel, but he paused when he heard someone else's footsteps. He looked up, and he caught the flash of gold, directing him to meet her eyes. His own, bright emerald, looked upon her in shock. At the sight of the blood, though, he snapped out of it.
"Jesus Christ..." he muttered to himself, bolting across the road. "Hey, you okay? Stop, I'll help you!" He slid to a half before her. "Christ, girl, what the hell happened to you?" He immediately pulled off his long coat, draping it over her and trying to be careful as he could of her wing. "Come on... You gotta get inside..." He didn't even seem all that concerned that she had wings.
The man came running at her, which caused Ferin to recoil backwards, glaring at him in warning. Her eyes, usually soft and gentle had a very sharp, angry look to them. She positioned to strike until he said that he wanted to help her. It shocked her for a moment, leaving her dumbstruck and he was able to approach her and drape his coat over her. She looked up at him, her wet hair sticking to her skin as a confused look gazed up at the man. Still she hadn’t said a word to him, hadn’t answered his questions.
“I... I uh...” The girl tensed suddenly and turned her attention towards something in the darkness. “Look out!” She shouted, shoving the man out of the way as two shadow-like creatures rushed her. The nephilim danced around, her long hair fanning out even soaked as it was and she struck out viciously with her foot. It was a confusing sigh, many would say, to see such a petite and angelic looking girl fighting so ferociously. Either way it was clearly a losing battle. The shadows seemed armed with sword like appendages that they were using to slash into the soft skin, spilling more blood onto the street as lightning and thunder accompanied the violence.
The man rolled aside when thrown, but immediately sprung back at the beasts. He flipped open a large pocketknife and slammed his shoulder against one creature with a snarl before aiming a stab at its chest, followed by a slash and a second stab. He knew what he was doing, that was for sure. But in the rain, the knife slipped from his hand and he immediately backed up. His fists were ready now, and he cursed at himself for having taken off his padded fingerless fighting gloves after training at the gym that evening. He came back at his chosen enemy with expert punches and kicks. But he, being the type of man he was, found this rather fun. He hadn't been in a real fight for a long time, and soon, a mischievous and playful smirk came to his face.
Ferin landed another rather violent kick, emitting a rather satisfying crack from the shadow, but was quickly stabbed at once more by the beast. The pair backed away from the fighting duo, snarling and growling angrily. Ferin’s eyes narrowed once more, readying for another attack. They were the creatures that had first attacked her, but they had looked more... human than they did now. Now they looked beast-like. Letting out a loud snarl they just... disappeared. ‘Poofed’ and floated away in a kind of black smoke. Once more a simple confused look crossed the girl’s face before she faltered slightly and sank to her knee for a moment.
Her shirt was soaked in blood and water, which had been taking a toll on her. The pain wasn't anything to laugh at either. However, she eventually righted herself and looked to the man whom had come to her aid. “Those things happened to me.” She said, despite trying to sound serious her voice was just too sweet and gentle to get across the desired effect. “Are you alright?” Now there was a bit more concern, even weakness entering her voice, revealing just how tired and weak that little fight had made her.
"I'm more worried about you, honestly," he turned to her and she could see he'd suffered a long jagged cut down his entire forearm and at his hip. "Come on, then, love..." He scooped her up. "Uh... those wings, can you like, hide them at all? I don't know how angels work. I'm not really sure what to do, if I should take you to a hospital or just fix you up myself..." He carried her down the road til they came within the city limits, and someone pulled up alongside them.
"Charon?" A woman's voice asked, and she poked her head out the window. She was a slim beauty with long dark hair and bright blue eyes. "Bloody hell, did you just get out of a gang fight or something?"
"Might as well've." The man, Charon, grinned as if it were all fun and games.
"Funny. Asshole, get in the car." She hit the doorlocks and Charon opened up the back door, setting Ferin inside before going around and getting in on the opposite side. "So who'd you nearly get killed this time?" the woman asked as she pulled back onto the road.
"Uh... I dunno." Charon looked at Ferin and he offered I smile. "I'm Charon, this is my friend Gia. Uh... you are?"
“I’ll be alright.” Ferin protested as the man approached her and scooped her up. “Not an angel.” She said quickly correcting him. “Nephilim, half angel, half human, but it’s a common misconception. Think... all the looks of an angel in a human body. As for my wings... they’re visible to only those who aren’t humans unless I want them to be. So we’ll be alright.” She assured him, letting out a long yawn as exhaustion and blood loss began setting in. She barely noticed the car pull alongside them in the pouring rain. It was only once the rain had stopped and she felt a sharp pain shoot through her wing did she snap back to reality.
“Ow!” The girl said sharply, looking up at the new face. “Ferena Naveah Charlotte Bayer.” She responded initially as she tried to get her wings sorted out, very hard when one refused to move on its own. “You can just call me Ferin though." Letting her eyes close again the nephilim rested her head back. “Thank you, you probably saved me back there. I guess I owe you now.” She sounded tired again, now she was more comfortable in the warmth and the dry she felt unconscious calling her even louder as she continued to bleed onto the car seat.
"Just relax, then. Everything'll be fine," Gia told her, looking forward to the road. "Charon, we'll have to get you looked at too, once she's taken care of."
"Psh, you know I've had worse."
"Yeah, and you're an idiot and never take care of it til it becomes a problem." The conversation faded away as Ferin's own consciousness did, and she'd awaken to the sound of incessant beeping in a dim, white room. There was something poking her in the arm. A needle- an IV. An oxygen mask was over her mouth, bringing her awake. Everything hurt, but not as badly as before. She was in a dry hospital gown now, in a warm room and a warm bed, sitting halfway propped up. She could hear the faint sounds of someone breathing, and could just barely make out her savior's form, laying on the floor, asleep. His arm had been wrapped up and he was wearing a new set of clothes. His friend Gia was sitting in a chair in the corner, reading glasses on, looking over a Shakespeare. She nudged him with her foot as he began to snore, and he stirred slightly, turning on his side.
"Quit it," he mumbled.
"Then don't snore. I'm reading Hamlet's soliloquoy and you're ruining it."
"Heheheh... To be, or not to be--that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep--
No more--and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep--
To sleep--perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprise of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action. -- Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia! -- Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remembered."
"Thanks a lot, asshole. Not bad, you got the whole thing, when'd you memorize it?"
"I'm over a hundred years old, Gia. I get bored. I got bored one year and memorized Hamlet, Midsummer Night's Dream, Othello, and Romeo and Juliet. Still working on King Lear and Richard III."
(I just totally wrote that whole thing from memory and double-checked on google. Holy crap I feel accomplished)
Ferin looked around, mostly in confusion, then in fear. She had avoided hospitals as much as possible during her life. She was safe in that human’s couldn’t see her wings, but that didn't protect her from supernatural creatures and holy blood, angelic or otherwise was a rather rare commodity these days. It had probably been the reason for the attack the... other night? How long had she been asleep? Not to mention now she had to worry about her wing still not being set. If it started to heal wrong it would have to be reset, a rather painful experience from what she’d heard.
“Where am I?” The nephilim asked groggily as she attempted to sit upright, wobbled tediously and used her good arm to support herself after ripping off the stupid mask. If it weren’t for that incessant, annoying beeping and the pain she would have thought she had gone to heaven. “How long was I asleep for?” Now that she was all cleaned up it was a lot more easy to see what she’d meant by ‘angel’s body’. She was tall and lean, skinny but not disgustingly so. Her face, her hair, her eyes ,everything about her seemed almost eerily perfect, like she had been airbrushed. It was a perfection even celebrities failed to attain yet she did so without even trying, all due to her genetics.
Her hair, her wings and her eyes were all a pleasant golden colour, but to her that just showed she was of impure holy blood. Speaking of her wings... looking the girl sighed softly in dismay. Whilst one perked up and folded neatly into her back the other hung uselessly at her side. Broken. It would take weeks to heal. It needed to be set and soon. “I don’t suppose any of you know about avian biology do you?” She asked, looking up from her wing.
(...wow... I don't believe I've ever even read a shakespear play... I watched the McBeth Movie once...)
(You're missing out!!!! Go read one, now! Turn off the computer and grab Romeo & Juliet or Othello!)
Both looked up as Ferin awoke, and Charon picked himself up with a luxurious stretch and yawn. "Morning, sleeping beauty."
"You're at Lexington General. You've been out since the night before yesterday," Gia told her. "We had to tell a few lies and pull a few strings to get you through these doctors, but... oh, well." She set aside her book and came to Ferin's side. She placed a gentle hand on Ferin's forehead. "Feels like you still have a little bit of a fever, but it's not as bad as it was last night."
Charon was thinking about her wing when he suddenly came up with a solution. "Hey, you remember Rory who runs that petshop, right?" He looked at Gia.
"Well, he keeps birds, He's gotta know a non-human veterinarian who can fix wings."
"Aww, Charon, you used your brain," Gia took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead with a teasing grin. "Good boy, I'm so proud."
"Sod off," he growled and laughed at the same time, then he looked to Ferin. "You think that'll work, love?" He seemed to have developed the habit already of calling her 'love'.