Day 6: Fiction (I was gonna go fantasy plot…but how about I just write down the weird ass dream I had instead, that was pretty freaking fictional.)
He had always felt like life was as it should be, he saw no reason why it shouldn’t be the way it was, he felt secure and he didn’t think there was anything strange about him, except everyone else thought differently.
He was always treated just a bit differently it was hard not to when faced with someone with such beautiful eyes.
He’d heard that his whole life, he never realized it meant he was special. He didn’t know people weren’t meant to be able to see so far and clear as he could.
When They’d found him, he’d been performing in a circus, shooting arrows and throwing knives and never missing with very little training. That should have been a sign, but to him, it was simply normal. To all else it was highly suspicious.
After one of his shows he’d been approached by some people who were in white and asked about a job, and after that he could remember very little.
He was taken and restrained and tied down and then he wasn’t allowed to see anymore.
It broke his heart.
He screamed and screamed and screamed.
He didn’t know how long he screamed. He didn’t know what else to do but scream and panic and cry, he had never had this happen before. He’d never been so vulnerable and useless.
And then he heard a voice. It was calm, male, and reassuring, telling him it would be okay if he just calmed down. Smooth and easy to listen to, kind and comforting words telling him to take deep breaths and just focus on his voice. Eventually Clint was able to do exactly that; calm down and not let the panic from the white cloth wrapped around his head, covering his eyes, consume him.
“Wh-who are you?” he whispered, his voice raw and weak from all the screaming.
“No one special,” the voice replied, though it was said in such a way it was full of irony. They were all there because they were ‘special’, weren’t they?
“Where...is this?” he asked, wishing he wasn’t tied down any more, he was sore in other places from trying to get the blindfold off. But he was completely restrained.
“Some kind of underground holding unit for Deaves,” the voice replied simply, Clint swallowed to try and wet his pallet, everything was dry.
“What’s that?” he asked and there was a long pause.
“...you don’t know?” he asked back, sounding stumped.
“...no?” Clint had no idea, honestly he didn’t even know who the current president was.
“They’re angels. We are angels.” the voice said and Clint realized he was completely and utterly lost.
~
Clint was in that place for so long he forgot what life was outside of it, he spent his time speaking to the voice, who said his name was Adriel, he also said that was not his real name. That was what their ‘angels’ were called, Clint was called Uriel. There were five others there, Michael, Gabriel, Raziel, Azazael, and Ramiel.
Clint had heard their voices, after his hearing had adjusted, he could hear them speaking to each other and to him, but they weren’t as close to him as Adriel was, who was in the room, or cell really, next to his so his voice carried perfectly well through the vent.
Clint seemed to figure out where the others were and how their voices differed, and of course they told him what they had taken away, since he couldn’t see theirs and they could see his, it was a courtesy.
Michael was pretty easy, his voice was deep and very commanding, but also quite heartfelt and kind. He’d had his ‘body’ taken, and there were some white cloths on around his neck and each limb preventing him from being him, apparently he was smaller than he had been.
Gabriel was cocky and an ass, but he did know when not to be, Clint figured if they had met under normal circumstances they would have probably gotten along either famously or infamously. He’d had his ‘mind’ taken away and Clint didn’t really want to know what that entailed, but apparently there was some crazy white helmet type thing on his head that was made of the fibers of the same cloth.
Raziel was the only female voice and hers was second easiest to listen to, it was smooth and sultry, but without actually trying to be. Clint liked it, and apparently she’d had her ‘grace’ taken from her. She had once been a graceful dancer, a liquid mover, she had been so beautiful to watch but now she could barely move without tripping over herself because of the white sash around her waist.
Azazael’s voice was soft, and monotone, he didn’t talk much but when he did it was usually to make a point, he said his emotions had been locked away, he was in an entire outfit made of the same white cloth as everything else.
Ramiel’s voice was booming and deep, a little larger than life and sounded like it had once been very used to laughter. Ramiel was special too, it seemed, he was restrained entirely he couldn’t move and they couldn’t see him, only hear him. While everyone else was contained in glass holding cells with beds and attached bathrooms, Ramiel’s was totally blacked out, no one had seen him.
And Adriel, he had the whole use of his left arm taken from him, wrapped in more white cloth, and his voice was the easiest to listen to, smooth and calm even, except when he was talking to Clint he always had a bit of a lilt in his voice. It made him feel a lot less like he was confined. It made him feel good.
Eventually he was allowed to move around when he knew better than to take off the blindfold, it was a hard learned motion, but he managed, just as they all had. Each had had very similar reactions to having a part of themselves locked away.
They spent most of their days leaned up against the wall of their cells talking. They spoke of everything, their lives, what they had been like, who they had met, what they had liked and didn’t, Clint was sure he’d never known more about anyone. And he was even more sure he’d never been so happy to talk to someone before. He felt so many things talking to a man he’d only ever talked to and nothing more.
They spoke quietly so it was like they were alone, and the others couldn’t hear- or if they could they were courteous enough not to mention it.
It was still lonely.
“I wish I could see you,” Clint whispered one day after being there for he didn’t know how long. After getting to know him so well he knew nearly everything but his real name, everyone called each other by their daeva titles, so he was Uriel. He was still confused by that. He wasn’t anything like an angel.
Adriel was quiet for a long while, “I wish I could touch you,” he replied, “I wish I could hold you, and...there are many things I wish I could do...but...”
“But,” Clint agreed, his head thumping against the glass. He wished.
He wished.
~
Nothing change for too long, until one day, a man came in and told them to fight.
“Fight? For you? You must be joking,” Clint said, his voice so close to a snarl it was rough, he was trying to restrain his emotions.
“Oh you would give up a chance to see again just to spite me?” the voice asked, smirking.
Clint’s hands fisted in anger, because god, the thought of seeing, of seeing Adriel his heart nearly cried out, he nearly said yes right then and there.
The others seemed to be thinking about it too, but Michael, who had been there the longest and considered a bit of a leader took the reigns.
“What would we be fighting, exactly?”
“Demons. That was what you were sent to earth to do,” the man replied, as if he had all the answers.
“You say that, but haven’t you had us all locked up in rooms doing nothing?” Gabriel asked.
“You need nothing more, this is all you are meant for, fighting the demons invading the earth,” the man said and Clint really kind of wanted to punch him in the face.
But there seemed to be a silent conversation happening with the others that he wasn’t privy to, as he couldn’t see them.
“We will fight,” Michael said, and Clint really wanted to protest but he had a feeling Michael had a plan.
“Excellent,” the man said, “You will have what you need momentarily,” and then he walked a way.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Clint snapped, “Why did you agree? What’s going on?”
“Anything to be freed from shackles,” Ramiel replied wearily.
Clint sighed, “Yeah...yeah,” he leaned up against the wall separating him from Adriel and really couldn’t find anything else to argue.
That seemed to be all that was needed for seconds later he was seeing. The blindfold fell away and he could see.
And now all he could see was light.
He was engulfed in light and then he had wings.
It was amazing, exhilarating and completely terrifying. He saw suddenly again as his fellow captured were released from their sudden Ascension and their faces came into his view for the first time. Raziel, graceful and ginger, Michael blonde and buff, Gabriel, stocky and smirky. Azazael curly haired and brimming with raw emotion, and Ramiel who’s own form was released from chains, wrapped around wings that he’d already possessed but could say nothing of.
And finally, Adriel, amazing, gorgeous Adriel, his hair long and shaggy, his eyes blue as the sky before a storm, and his arm, it was beautiful, silver white and red twisting and curling in enochian along it in a seamless pattern, oh it was so gorgeous and so was he, Clint wanted to have more now that he’d had this.
And he was looking straight at him, smiling, wings stretched out on either side of him, glorious and white just like everyone elses, but Clint was maybe a little bias.
“I knew they were going to be gorgeous...I didn’t realize they would have the universe in them,” Adriel said, “You do have beautiful eyes, Uriel.”
Clint shivered, he’d heard it so many times before but from him, it felt like the most sincere deceleration of love. It filled him with it and nothing would take it from him.
“Daevas,” Michael said, commanding enough that everyone turned, “Fly.”
If he was next to Adriel, he would do anything.