Copper hair lay matted against the woman's scowling face, mixing with the blood and sweat that dripped down her body in a steady stream. Despite her healing ability she knew she would be cursed with an x shaped scar on her lower jaw. "Now, Vyriel tell me where the rest of your kind is," the suited man questioned from the shadows.

Vyriel sucked in a breath and grunted. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm human," she lied with a sneer.

The man picked up another shiny metal surgical tool and dug it slowly into her wing, "Why don't I just cut these off for you then," he growled, cutting in until Vyriel shrieked in agony.

"Fine! Fine," she panted eagerly. When he pulled the blade out he smiled at her.

"See, that wasn't so hard. How about we start with what you are then?"

"You'll have to come here," she whispered, moving her eyes to scan the room quickly for any aid. Stupidly the man leaned in closer so his ear was right beside her blood ridden cheek. A small chuckle escaped her lips, "Archangel," she whispered softly before breaking the shackles that bound her to the wall. In one swift motion she jerked his head to the side, snapping his neck as if it were nothing more than a twig.

Silently she made her way to the door and peered out the small circular hole. No one guarded the apartment where she had been kept for nearly a month. Biding her time. Waiting for the perfect moment. Waiting for information.

It was always nice visiting a new city, even if this one looked a bit scary. Humming a soft tune to the pale pink bird perched on his shoulder, he carefully got off the rickety contraption that served as his ride. With no hesitation, the little bird took off ahead of him, surveilling the area ahead.

Waiting for his companion, he set the bike against the peeling paint of one of the shadiest apartments he'd seen in awhile and leaned against his old cane. It was so quiet around here and that as odd. Most cities he'd traveled to were loud and busy, people pushing past him with no care for his cane. Here...well he couldn't hear a soul, not even a mouse, nor his bird. A fact that would have scared him had he not moments later hear the flutter and sweet chirping of his companion.

"Li'l Fie. Did you find anything?" The immediate reply was two chirps for yes, then a head duck for hidden. "Clever Fie. Thank yah." He patted her head before frowning. People hiding was never a good thing these days. He would either have to hide it out or proceed with causion. Considering that he was late on his delivery already, he chose to proceed. After all, he was just an innocent bypasser. Surely, he could manage to pass safely.

Slinking across the walls of torn brown paper and a dark substance was not what Vyriel had in mind when she thought of a smooth getaway. However, the woman was in no fit state to walk on her own at the moment. Her black vest was tight enough that it kept her from bleeding out too bad and the black jeans despite the filth were enough to keep most of the blood from being noticed.

The cautious woman strapped her scythe to her back and gripped her ornate sword, forged from the fires of the blackness from a time lost to the current world. The weapon was nearly as large as the woman herself and to many would be heavier than they could manage.

Obsidian glinted from the massive weapon as she slowly pulled the door open.

Taking it slow like always, perhaps even slower for safety's sake, Foster started forward, gently placing his cane down, trying to keep noise to the minimum. Not even half a minute later, the door to the apartment slowly opened. Freezing where he was, he covered Fie to keep him quiet. Crap. He prayed to gods he didn't quite believe in that whoever was exiting would pay him no mind. He was just a deliver, after all!

Maybe he should turn around, and head back and come back later? But he was late already. He couldn't afford to have his pay cut down for being super late and he had a reputation to maintain as a dependable delivery man! Thus he cast his gaze down and continued forward again, half attempting to will the stranger to ignore him.

Luck was not in the man's favor however as Vryriel cast an icy glare his way. "Whatever your business here forget you've ever seen my face," she called out to him.

Vyriel cursed herself at becoming one of the wealthiest women in this world. She had become known for giving vast amounts of wealth to those with none. Feeding the poor and hungry along the way, as she wanted no mortal possession. Hers was a face that could be easily recognized if given the opportunity. The government was more than willing to pay off anyone that would have information on her whereabouts and as her wings were mangled and bent at odd angles exposing bone, flying was out of the realm of possibilities.

Jumping in shock, stumbling even but managing to stick his cane out in time to save himself a fall, Foster nodded franticly, not even looking up at her. He hadn't seen their face! So he had to be safe! It's easy to forget someone's face when you never looked at it. Fie unnerved by his companions sudden jump and near tumble, chirped franticly and fluttered around his head.

"I-I didn't see your face! A-and I'll forget I was ever here! I'll jus...just deliver my stuff and leave right away!" Foster had to take a calming breath or else he'd take a step forward and fall flat on his face. He could feel the icy glare on him and it made his palms sweat. Trying to rush but safely so, he ambled forward. Fast....was not easy for him.

The woman glared between the bird and the man who hobbled as quickly as he could away from her. "Turn and look at me," she demanded. She fought the sudden feeling of illness and foreboding that bubbled within when she realized his state of being. If they did come for him she doubted he'd be able to survive them and she couldn't pretend that he would be alright without a word of advice.

Vyriel straightened herself with her sword and held herself painfully upright. He would be able to see she wasn't fully capable of harming him, but she hoped he'd be able to catch a glimpse at her power, so she allowed a small amount of white light to surround her, growing black around the edges.

Foster brought himself to a halt and fearfully turned around. This didn't make sense. Why would they want him to look at them if they wanted him to forget their face? How was he supposed to do that? Regardless, he listened and looked her in the eyes, trying not to look overly scared. Fie had taken it upon himself to perch on his head and chirp defensively and determinedly at the scary stranger.

The very first thing Foster noticed was the blood and the wounds. They..no she, was hurt! The very next thing he noticed was that she was not normal. No, not with cut up wings and glowing. He paled and took a step back. Oh no. This could not end well. She was going to kill him! He didn't want to die! He couldn't even think up something in his defense, wordless with fear.

"When they come for you, not if...when. When they come call out for Vyriel," she told him in a booming voice that echoed between them. "You need not fear me, my child." Though she had meant to go his direction when she opened the door the woman thought better of it. She turned away and slowly began walking the other direction. Her face crumpled in pain with each step she took, but the warrior refused to look weak in front of anyone. Not after the torture she had endured.

He couldn't help but tremble at her words. Come after him? Who? Why? The only thing he could think of was the government and why would they go after him of all people? As the being walked away, Foster gently plucked Fie off of his head and held him, watching the strange being leave. Was she.... Almost limping? And those wings....

"A-are..are yah okay?" He flinched when he called out. He shouldn't speak to her! He should leave! The street was empty and his path was clear now, he should leave as fast as he could, finish his job then leave the city!

But... she was very hurt.

"I-I have some balm that sh-should help..."

The sound of a high pitched whistle cut through the air leaving the boy speechless for moment. The wind shifted into a heavy form, a translucent blue mare rushed passed him, stopping at the being who climbed on. Vyriel turned it to face the boy and slowly rode up to keep from frightening him too much. 

"Where is your delivery, son," she whispered softly. Her gaze, the color of rich cognac softened at the sight of him. "We'll help each other for a moment."

Pale violet eyes wide, Foster couldn't help but take a step back, overwhelmed and awed. Unfortunately it was an action unwise and he fell onto his behind. A horse out of thin air. What was this being?

At her question, he forced himself to reply, "I-it's just a couple blocks away. The farmers market." Great, now he had to get up, a cumbersome task, but not one he was unused to. It was one that would always hurt at least a little, however, and he grunted as he stood again. "I h-have the balm in my bag. I'll get it out for yah."

"I don't need the balm, I have a different favor to ask of you," she told him with a glance at her wings. She gingerly reached a scarred arm out to him, "I'll give you a ride if you like."

He very carefully took the offered hand, hoisting himself up using his good leg and arms. "What's the favor?" Fie chirped distractedly on his shoulder now, seeming to keep tabs on the being.

"I need help setting my wings. I can't allow them to heal into this mangled mess. I'd never be able to fly again," she grunted bitterly. Vyriel imagined just what she'd do when she found the mortals behind ruining the beauty she had once been. Her flawlessness had been tainted by men.

"O-oh. I can do that." After all, they were wings and birds had wings. He knew how to take care of birds. Her wings, however, were huge. Despite the wounds on them, he found them awe inspiring. Maybe more so because of them, with how they still moved and partially worked with such lacerations. They had to be strong. "It'll hurt more, though...:" He had to warn her, even if he didn't expect her to care much.

Vyriel wrinkled her face in disbelief, "I think I can handle it." She maneuvered the mare through the streets before stopping a few buildings short of the market. "I can't be seen and you can't go to the market floating in the air, so I'll have to wait for you here." The woman glanced between her shoulder and broad black wing to look at him, "Can I trust you to come back or shall I take my leave?"

"I-I'll go in." He climbed off, stumbling a bit but catching himself once he was on the ground. "I can't leave yah with unset wings. I'll be back." He ambled into the store, delivery basket in hand. He hadn't been too late, at least. The store owner didn't seem to mind at least. They had even looked shocked that he'd gotten here when he did when his leg was noticed.

After chatting a bit and accepting his money, he thanked them with a smile and left. It was only as he was leaving that he realized just what the being had said. As soon as he saw her again, he asked, "What do you mean you can't be seen? I can see yah?"

"Why would I hide my presence from someone I want to see me," she asked through the mane of the horse. She slowly sat herself up from the horse and reached an arm down for him. The x on her jaw had become a soft pink scar while he was away and some of the lacerations on her wings had begun to heal already. "I hope you don't mind if I rush. My time is limited unless I want you to have to re break my wings," she told him with an irritable huff.

Foster simply nodded and quickly got back up on the horse, almost dropping his cane. "S-sorry. I'll set it right now, okay? On three." Somehow, he wasn't very shocked at how fast she was healing. It only made sense at this point.

"One....two...three." He quickly set her wings, hands sure, despite how much larger the wings were than the average birds. Foster was quite experienced in setting bones, human or bird, or, apparently, something between yet more.

"Are you alright?"

Vyriel let out the breath she held slowly and steadily. "For the time being," she replied softly. "I can heal that you know...if you want." The angel nodded at his leg sadly. "My children coming to harm is something I don't like."

Foster blinked at that, shocked. "...Thanks for the offer but... I think I'm fine. Tis leg is a reminder of something very important I can't forget. Plus...I kinda like surprising folks with my efficiency on the job even with it. Usually, it doesn't even bother me this much. It just happens to be a bad leg day."

The woman sniffed in disdain, "Which was it? Mother or Father?"

"Um..." Foster frowned, confused. "What about my Mother or Father? Um...I don't know who they were. Even if i did, I have no clue what you are asking."

Vyriel's head snapped to the side as she shifted a wing down. "I think we need to get someplace quiet so I can tell you a story," she told him harshly. He felt her legs spur the horse faster until they reached a large cream colored house. "Welcome to my home," she muttered as she slid off the side and sheathed the great sword that had sat on her lap. She offered a hand up to him.

At this point, he'd settled with just accepting what comes his way. This being was strange and foreign and seemed to have taken an interest in him in someway. Now he was going to hear a story, whatever story that might be.

He took the offered hand and got down, looking around in awe. So much to take in. "Wh-what do yah have to tell me?"

"Don't be rude," she grumbled as she led the way into the expansive home. "Do you want...shit...what's it called," she muttered the last bit to herself while searching for the word. After a couple moments she jerked a box from the kitchen cabinet. "Ah! Tea! Would you like tea? Or I have the dark bitter stuff," she commented and pointed to the coffee pot. "Bear with me here, mortal language and customs are...still foreign for me."

He flinched when she'd called him rude and watched as she struggled with finding the word for tea, secretly amused. "S-sorry for being rude... A-and tea is good, thank yah...."

Vyriel struggled with the tea bags for a minute before looking up sharply at him, "Please sit. Long before your history lost us my kind created the world. A male to be more specific. With him he created myself and another, Lucifer. He gave each of us certain strengths and weaknesses, some of which he hadn't foreseen. He also created a new being while we were still relatively young. Man is what he called them. Mortals," she hissed with a sigh. "Are you with me so far," she questioned as she slid him a cup of tea.

Foster took the tea carefully, nodding. Why was she telling him this? And was this tea properly made? He wouldn't know until he took a sip and he guessed he wouldn't know why he was getting story time until the end. Maybe beings like her got bored.

Violet eyes watched her close, trying to figure her out as he finally sat down, tea in one hand and cane placed against his chair. "I'm following..."

"Mortals quickly proved to be the bane of my dear brother's existence as he grew jealous of them. He devised a plan to show Yaweh who the superior beings were as man had shown himself to be obstinate. My brother rose against him after the fall of man and was cast out of our lives," her face twisted with anger at the memories. "I was told to cast a breath into the mortal world and gave life to creatures of light and wind. I gave life to creatures in tune with nature, but the mortals being creatures without moral hunted them down. in return for their treacherous ways I gave life to other creatures. Monsters of darkness more fearsome than the men and I gifted them to my dear brother. History lost us throughout the ages. First forgetting me, then forsaking the being who stood by them so long, and finally forgetting my brother who they spoke of as evil."

This wasn't a very cheerful story. Frowning deeply, he sipped at his tea. Well, it was good at least. Good thing he liked his tea bitter. "That's...sad..." Being forgotten couldn't have been a nice time. He'd thought he'd heard stories similar to this. Yes, he had, usually in churches or overheard from backyards or open windows. Those stories painted a different picture.

"We slept for a long time, trying to mend our broken ways, but upon waking Yahweh suffered. He tried to give his son to the mortals so they could atone for their misdeeds, but it didn't matter. When they finally denounced his name Yahweh died and I found myself sitting at the throne. I watched and listened to mortals for a great many years until I heard the screams from my people again. Here. In this...island? Men were kidnapping them and torturing my babies for information and I learned that some of my children had...bred with the mortals. Halflings."

This story had taken an even darker turn. Halflings? He'd heard of them but wasn't sure what it was. It was always referred to the same as demons or monsters were, so he had known it to be a very bad thing. "Halflings?" He took another sip of the tea and blew violet hair out of his eyes. Wait...did he overhear somewhere that people the government were searching for where halflings? He hadn't thought much of it then, just that they likely meant it as a derogatory term towards those people. He'd assumed the government was capturing crooks or worse.

Vyriel steadied him with a look of malice, "My children are being hunted and now I...my body has been tarnished by the likes of them. So when I ask mother or father, I ask which was a child of mine." Vyriel stood and began pacing with a hint of a limp remaining. She closed her eyes in an attempt to calm herself down. "Before you tell me you aren't one of mine ask yourself...how many people talk to birds the way you do? How common is it to be born with violet hair and eyes? How common is it to find a broken archangel emerge from a building as shabby as the apartment you saw today?"

Foster froze, brows furrowed in confusion. Wait. What was she saying? He was a halfling? Halfling of what? He was normal! If not just a bit colorful and crippled. Anyone could talk to birds like he did if they just paid attention...right? "Th-there's nothing that special about me to make me...anything else. Coloring aside..." He didn't understand at all.

Vyriel shook her head and made her way to his side before touching his cheek. She gasped at whatever happened in the touch and her harsh gaze softened again to the point that tears fell from her eyes. "Fae."

He stared at her in disbelief. He could make himself believe nearly everything she said except her saying he was something other than human. Had he been more than human...then wouldn't he have been able to do more than he has? Or healed faster? Or helped easier? Wouldn't he have power of some sort? He could think of no proof to back this up.

She moved away from him as if remembering something, "Fae were very delicate creatures. They tuned in to nature the way humans could not. Foster...you understand that little bird and that tells me more than enough because I know what I'm looking at. However, if you choose to not believe me that is...your right. I can take you back to your bike if you'd like. Just so long as you remember to call my name when you need me."

Somehow the word delicate irked him, but he ignored it, after all how could he be anything but a lowly human? "Thank yah for the tea. I'll...keep it in mind." He'd be a fool to at least not try to remember this.

Vyriel conjured the horse again and helped him onto it. "She knows the way, just hold on tight and she'll get you there safe little dovling."

He held on firmly to the mare and nodded. Would they ride out only for him to awaken on the side if the road? For him to find out tis only a dream? "Ah...Thank yah again..." How was he supposed to say goodbye to a being like this?

Vyriel winked at him with a cheeky smile, "It doesn't have to be goodbye, simply a see ya around." She patted the mare's flanks before he could respond and set the horse off in the direction of the bike.

"She doesn't lie," came a soft sweet voice from beneath him.

He jumped at the voice and looked around for the source. What now? What new unexplainable thing would he witness? Why was he so unenthusiastic about it, also? Foster sighed, tired. Maybe it had simple been overwhelming for one day.

"Could you not ignore me dear," the mare demanded and halted in the middle of the alley by his bike.

"O-oh! S-sorry... I don't know many horses that can speak my language..." At this point a dream would make more sense than this. But what was so strange about a talking horse in comparison with the idea that you might not be who you thought you were.

"You must not know many horses then," the mare replied with the toss of her head. "Like I was saying though, the mistress doesn't lie and she doesn't trust anyone outside her own."

"I don't think she was lying...I just... I can't see it. I can't even conceive of it...." Foster was hoping this was all a dream now. If he thought about it, and he certainly was, the fact he might be something more than human didn't disgust him or make him feel bad at all. He liked the idea...but...him? Really?

"You're talking to a horse and you can't believe you may be different? Honey, your mortal is showing through," the mare said with a whinny that almost sounded like a laugh.

"...Yeah..." He sighed once more, confused. "I just would have thought there would have been more signs if this was true."

"It's hard to see the signs if you don't know what to look for," the mare responded with a shake of her head. "Keep in mind you can call on her even if you aren't in danger. Most don't know exactly who she is, just that she's an angel."

Foster raised his eyebrows at that. Angel? He talked to an angel? Surely he was dreaming. " ...Maybe I just need to sleep on all of this new info..." Maybe he'd wake up and things were normal again. Would that be a relief or a disappointment?