Late One Night
Punk is (c) himself
Tristan is (c) Tristan Hawthorne
Akuta is (c) himself
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Late one night, a canine relaxes under the light, or rather dark, of the new moon, staring at the stars. He is tall, strongly built, but not overly muscular. His whole body is coated in a thick warm fur, dark grey almost black in most places, but with highlights of a dark red spread throughout. He had mixed features, not quite fox, not quite wolf. His left ear flicked as a new star flared into sight, possibly a supernova going off centuries ago making the star only visible now. But no, it seemed something had hit atmosphere, since the glow was getting brighter, and was being accompanied by a sound of rushing air and flame quickly getting louder. He stood as the falling star seemed not to be going away from him, but rather in his general direction. It veered downwards a bit, however, as it neared the earth. He turned and ran a good twenty feet, down from the apex of the hill he had been on to the opposite side from where the star was to hit. He dropped to his knees as the impact shook the earth, nearly blinding him with the bright light. He lied back as a piece of molten detritus flew through where his chest would have been had he stayed upright. Once the tumult had ended, the folf stood, brushed off his fur and started back up the hill. When he reached the apex, he saw that the whole other side of the hill had been taken out by the impact, and he really wasn't safe, structurally speaking standing where he was. He walked down along the edge of the crater to a part that wasn't overhanging the center and looked in, expecting to see a steaming, possibly red hot, chunk of rock.
There, laying in the exact center of the crater was a naked white hare, with crumpled white feathered wings underneath him. He groaned, giving the first indication he was still alive, and opened his eyes. "P-Punk...?"
The folf rubbed his eyes, then stepped Into the crater, walking to the fallen lepine, "Hey Tris. You really need to work on your pounces from the sky."
"Very funny. I think I broke something..." He whimpered when he tried to move.
Punk leaned down to scoop up his friend, "Somewhere there's a story behind this." He reached his paw to move a black lock out of Tris' face as he started out of the crater in the direction of his home. As he walked, carrying his friend into a lush swamp, the hare passed out.
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Tristan's eyes opened to pure white. He was standing, naked, in an expanse of what seemed to be nothing. Before he could be bothered to make references to the Matrix a voice spoke behind him, "Tristan Gregorei Hawthorne."
The hare spun around to see a slender genderless tiger with white wings, "Where am I?"
"The Silver City. Come with me." The feline spoke smoothly, and with its words the whiteness faded to the inside of a seven sided chamber. As the white faded, Tristan could see a slender ring of light floating over the tiger's skull. A door opened and the winged being stepped through. Tristan followed obediently, attempting to determine what was going on. "One with such love and compassion in his heart is surely dear to our Father." The winged being spoke as it walked, "Even so, it is an honor rarely bestowed to a mortal, especially one so far tainted in bloodline..."
"What honor?" Tristan asked, cheeks red from that last comment. He hated when his parents were insulted, and this strange being had no right to judge him for good nor ill for being half mortal. He was also still confused about the whole situation.
The tiger smiled warmly, "To join the Host." As it spoke, they left the long corridor they had been travelling down. Tristan's eyes widened as he beheld the expansive city made all of silver, everything orderly in design and sweeping in its curves. Thousands of winged beings moved gracefully on wing or paw, "To be an Angel."
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Tristan awoke to the smell of something being cooked. He opened his eyes and looked to one side to see he was inside of some sort of earthen dwelling. Punk was cooking on a skillet, whistling to himself idly as he worked, before grinning widely as he looked over, "Morning, Sleeping Beauty."
The hare blushed at that as Punk brought over a plate with an omlette steaming upon it, "T-thanks." He tried to sit up to accept it, but a sharp grip of pain rushed through him, "Oooh...."
"Shhh... don't try to move. Your right wing, left wrist, and left leg are broken from your landing." Punk started to cut up the omlette into bitesized chunks. When he was done, he held aloft a piece, "Open, bunny."
"Wow, you must be worried. You're not trying to irritate me." Tristan gave a weak smirk, then opened his mouth obediently, letting Punk feed him, his belly growling a bit.
"Cute, rabbit." Punk said in his normal voice. He didn't seem to mean it like he usually did. He continued to feed the invalid hare, "If I'm gonna have a chance to heal you, you'll need a good meal in you. I need mass to work from, and you seem to have lost all that useful pudge you've accumulated in preparation of winter. And your tattoos... Care to tell me what happened to you? If I didn't know better, I'd say the Almighty..." He trailed off at Tristan's expression. The hare was looking down at himself, tears starting to matte down his facial fur. "Oh crap."
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"Hold your arms out from your sides. Your body is too weighed down from earthly indulgences at the moment. It's a wonder with how many vices you indulged in that you were even able to be Raptured." The tiger was saying calmly.
"Silence. All his sins are to be washed away and never spoken of again outside of this room." Tristan turned to look over his shoulder to see a tall wolf, white in fur and bedecked in glimmering plate armor. His wings were substantially larger than most Tris had seen since he arrived, as well as actually wearing some sort of garment. "Let us start the Transubstantiation."
"Yes, Amenidiel." The tiger nodded and stroked a paw along Tristan's form. The hare shuddered and looked down. His normally slightly pudgy, rather cuddly body was replaced by an extremely slender shape that seemed almost to accentuate his form in spite of the purity the angels were trying to instill in him.
"Now, Tristan, these are fascinating markings on your ears, as well as your arm. And I know they aren't natural." Amenidiel spoke, reverberating the room. "But they do not appear to be tattoos."
"Ancient Atlantian technique of altering the way fur grows from the flesh, sir." Tristan spoke softly, still confused, but some part of him wanted this, to be made devine. He had been denounced as a demon for centuries and he was tired of it, despite his personal opinion of many demons he had met.
"Do they hold meaning to you?" The wolf resounded as the Tiger started to do something to Tristan's back.
Tristan closed his eyes, "The one on my arm is to remember a particularly hard time in my life. The ones on my ears represent my kinship to the Dual Deity Tri--"
"What!" The tiger faltered, then started to mutter to itself about commandments.
"Well, we can't have a member of the host connected to something... Pagan can we?" Amenidel stroked his paw over the marks and they were replaced with white fur to match the rest of Tristan's pelt. The ranking Angel looked to the tiger who continued work on Tristan's back, until the hare found he had control over something new, and flexed. White feathered wings came into his line of sight. Without his knowledge, a small ring of light had appeared over his head, levitating flawlessly. He felt a warmth rushing through him, seeming to come from above him. He looked up. "A powerful feeling, isn't it, Tristan? The Almighty's pure love flowing through us is what gives we Angels power."
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"So why aren't you all glowy now?" Punk said as he examined the hare's wings. He was waiting for Tristan's meal to digest so he could start to heal him.
"I Fell. I thought that part was obvious." Tristan sniffled and started to tear up a bit. "Some fucking Divine forgiveness...."
"Okay, I think I can heal you now, Tris." Punk said, trying to keep the hare occupied and not let him degrade into sobs again. He placed his paw on Tristan's chest and pushed. The hare gasped as a jolt went through his body, and looked down to see Punk's paw phased into his chest, "Just remain calm lil angel." He smiled disarmingly, and Tris nodded softly, blushing. Punk closed his eyes and focused, a wet sound as his own black leathery wings burst forth from his own back returning to one of his two base states, before altering the bunny's metabolism to get all the energy he could out of that meal, before redirecting it to healing the wounds. Punk made sure each bone was in the proper alignment, before he flexed and all of them popped back together, as if they had never been shattered. Tristan gasped softly at the sensation, then Punk removed his paw and stroked along the hare's side softly, "There, all better. So, do you think you could tell me why you're a Fallen? Is it because you're gay?"
Tristan sighed, "If only it was something that stupid..."
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"Now let us remove that pesky gender of-wait a moment... what's this?"Amenidiel felt Tristan's rump in a way that made the hare blush. After a moment of this, the wolf pulled away, "Ritualistic Scarification. We'll have to remove that too. Who does that mean, little one?"
Tristan closed his eyes, "It is the mark of Fealty."
"To whom?" The wolf rumbled in his chest.
"The Incubus Akuta." Tristan feared divine retribution. He opened his eyes to Amenidiel standing in front of him.
The wolf looked to the tiger, "Leave us." The other angel scurried from the room, if that was possible for a being so graceful to scurry. "Oh yes, I know all about your demonic friends. You might say that's what made me interested in you in the first place. And that's why I pulled some strings and got you Raptured..."
"What...?" The hare backed away from the wolf slowly.
"I am the head of the Almighty's forces for destruction of demonic powers. And with the number of demons you have met and now keep tabs on over the centuries has to be a record, higher than any one angel has slain." The Wolf grinned wide, "Now imagine if all of them WERE slain... The Power of good would skyrocket in existence! More lives would be able to be touched by the Almighty! You feel Him in you don't you? It feels good, doesn't it. Don't you want to share that with all?"
Tristan shivered, staring at the crazed Angel "Y-You're mad... Killing demons won't increase the level of good in the world, only your perceived view of evil will diminish..."
"I've never been one to let logic damage my plans." Amendiel snarled and pinned Tris to the wall, "Now, if you promise to denounce every demon you've ever met, and help us slay them, not only will you fully join the host, but you'll be raised to the choir Gregorei, to watch over the world you love so. What say you?"
It is said that business halted in the Silver City that day, when Amenidiel let out a cry of pure rage, dragging a young hare naked through the streets by his long ears, most of the denizens staring, having never seen an angel with gender before. When the wolf reached the edge of the city, he grasped Tristan by the wing and held him aloft, "You love your filthy demon friends so much, go join them!" He whipped his arm forward with such force that the bones in Tris' wing shattered and the hare went tumbling off the edge of the Silver City, and with only one functional wing, he plummeted. He soon hit the true atmosphere, air rushing around him and starting to heat up with the speed at which he fell. Soon the cornea around him was white, fading away from him in a spectral effect as he plummeted. Miles away from that hill he was to land at the base of, Akuta stood atop a mountain, the Incubus holding a collar with a silver tag reading "Tristan" The demon knew not why his beloved pet had left so abruptly, leaving his collar and clothing behind, and he feared he had lost him. He saw a star start to fall and watched as it landed, sighing softly and heading back into his den.
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The folf cuddled Tristan up, wrapping the newly winged hare in his own membranous wings, stroking the back of his head as he cried, letting it all out. Punk cooed softly , warming up his body to keep Tris warm as he sobs wetly into the soft furred chest before him. They stayed like that for some time, before Tris had fallen asleep. Punk gently laid down the hare, careful to fold his wings in a comfortable position, before pulling a blanket over him. He hmmmed softly, before easing himself under the covers too, adding his warmth to the bed's and using his own wings as a second blanket for his friend, soon joining him in sleep.
During the night something strange happened. As the demon slept, his ward's head began to lighten. Not in weight however. A light was forming from the back of Tristan's skull, starting to form an aura. The light always seemed to be coming from behind the hare's head, so that he was cast in silhouette, as it got brighter. After some time, the aura broke away from his skull and resolved into a solid looking ring of light, floating a few inches above his head. Tristan slept on, unaware that he had earned his halo.
When Punk awoke, the first thing he noticed was something shiny right in front of his eyes. He winced and grumbled, before looking down and noticing the sleeping hare. He smiled before looking back up at the brightness. His eyes widened as he recognized it as a halo, and moved to poke it. It moved a little at his touch. He poked it again and it fell off. That was the only way to describe how it moved. It popped out of place, rolled off the bed and fell with a clatter to the ground, intact. He swore under his breath, thinking he would be unable to retrieve it without waking Tristan. He hmmmed for a moment, before easing the hare onto his chest, slowly unwrapping his wings. He let his wings sink back into his back before slowly rolling himself away from the edge of the bed, laying the sleeping hare on the other side of his body, before with a little scoot and a wiggle he was out from under Tris. Punk gave a shiver at the cold floor as his paws touched down, stooping down to pick up the halo. He spun it between his fingers, looking over the ring of light, musing its composition, or possibly just thinking about how shiney it was. He moved it to the air just over the sleeping angel's head, wiggling it around a little until he found a spot that the ring felt drawn to. Punk let go and it stayed suspended in midair. He scratched his head at the sight, then stretched out, deciding Tris was too cute asleep to wake and heading to take a morning shower.
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Akuta was fiddling with the collar, not having moved from his seat since he sat down the night prior. The phone rang, causing the fox to drop the collar in shock. He grasped the phone and held it to his ear, "What." He spoke curtly, irritated that his brooding had been interrupted.
"Master?" A soft voice spoke from the receiver.
Akuta's disposition softened immediately, "Tristan?"
"Yes, Master. I'm sorry I vanished, something came up." The hare spoke on the other side rapidly, in hushed tones. "I will be back soon. I really must get this dealt with before I return. I'm sorry for worrying you. I can't talk now, though, I have to go." There was a click and a moment later the dial tone sounded.
The incubus hmmfed at the phone and set it down. He then slowly smiled, ideas for what to do with the hare when he got home playing through his mind.
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Punk stepped out of the shower and shook himself off, shuddering at the cold air, before his eyes flared a bit and his fur started to steam, his body heating up the air in the bathroom. He grabbed a towel and got most of the water that he didn't get out with the shake. He grasped a brush and started to work it through his thick dark grey and red fur, humming softly to himself, his thick brush of a tail wagging contently at the ideas trickling into his head, about the little angel he had caught himself. He blinked down at his swollen sheath, and shook his head, "Dammit. He's too weak to move, let alone mess around, and he's traumatized... Damn, why do I have to have morals...?" He sighed and pulled on a bathrobe, stepping out of his bathroom and padding back down the hall to his own room. When he opened the door he found an empty bed. He padded over to find a small note scrawled on a scrap of paper. He picked it up and read it, "I'm terribly sorry for being a burden for you, Punk. Thank you for helping me out, but I must be away. I'll see you soon." It was signed simply "Tris." Punk shook his head slowly, "Damn me and my hygiene... Oh well..." He sniffed the note, just enough of Tris' scent there to be noticeable. He bent down to the sheets. More hare scent. He crawled back into bed and chuured, inhaling the scent of angelic bunnyboy, figuring he could deal with his earlier problem now that he was alone...
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