A Hard Day's Night [ari & chi][mature][fin]

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Malachi, Chief of the Hashmallim order of the bene ha'elohim, most ancient and holy angels of god, opened the door too an empty cupboard and sighed.

He was at home in his little basement hovel underneath the local church. It was a silent, secret place, a refuge for a man who spent most of his waking hours doing battle with evil in all it's forms. Which was nice, usually the silent, meditative nature of his cathedral home was very welcome, but for the moment he was tired, hungry and a bit lonely.

Chi was half-dressed for the moment, having just shed a favorite sweater and slacks that were now covered in angel blood-- surprisingly, (mostly) not his own for once. The good-looking angel closed the empty cupboard and leaned reflectively against the countertop, his mind running incessantly over the draining events of the day. Or-- yesterday? He hadn't slept, but he was sure a day had passed.

Still, he didn't want to sleep now, he wanted to retreat into human normalcy, into the mundanity of regular-Joe earth life. He needed someone to talk to that would distract him from images of an old friend draped across his arms, broken and bruised and looking like angel-roadkill.

Yeah. It was pub-time.

The angel retreated to his bedroom to throw on a soft navy t-shirt and some khakis he was fond of-- comfort clothes, of course. And comfort shoes-- very classic old brown shoes, schoolboy styled. The pub was only a short walk away.

He could hear the singing and the rumble of conversation from outside the door. It was a nice little place, known for good food and, naturally, good spirits. The warm yellow light that washed over him felt nice after the darkness outside. With a tired but hopeful look on his face, the angel (mildly out of place in a pub, perhaps) strode over to his usual place at the side of the bar, finding a stool to perch on, legs naturally wrapping around the bars of the chair. He leaned his elbows on the bartop, grey-blue eyes scanning the place like someone who was more used to searching out potential trouble-makers than he cared to admit.

The pub was only mildly busy tonight, it being a Thursday and not a Friday or Saturday night. Still, there was a woman singing-- a vampire, which he could've called without his sense for race by her skin alone. She had a pretty voice, and there were, naturally, several males gathered around her, somewhat entranced with the beer and the food and the song.

He let himself slip into the trance of listening to her, too, until the bartender came by and set a frosty glass of pale beer before him. "Thanks, Joe."

"Long day again, Mal?"

The bartender, 'Old Joe,' was a friendly if eccentric old man, grizzled and with a bad leg, but sharp as a tack. Chi took a liking to the man, who had an excellent memory-- enough to remember Chi's drink of choice after just a few visits to the pub.

"One of the longer ones, yeah." The angel took a swig of the beer, which went down cool and smooth, the taste honeyed and light. It was a rare brew, but Malachi's favorite.

"Comin' from you, must be quite a story."

"Yeah...one for another day, though, it's still too fresh in my mind now, I think."

"Well, you just drink up, boyo, you'll be alright as rain in just awhile. Enjoy the lady, she's got a pearl of a voicebox."

"Thanks, Joe."

And the angel did quite exactly that, leaning against the bar and musing and listening to the calming sound of happy voices for awhile, mulling over his beer and the sound of song, wings kept unusually close to his body this evening as though he was scared someone was going to jump out and take them or something.

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Ari had taken to singing at the pub every so often, for singing had a complete and utterly calming effect on the nearly 400 year old Vampire. Tonight, she was dressed to the T in a dark red silk dress, the front slit just to reveal enough of her cleavage. Ari was a classy girl, born of royal lineage to Queen Margaret, the consort of Florence. She had been raised with a high standard for herself and all of those around her.

Tonight she sang Summer Wine, a song originally performed by the lovely Natalie Avalon. As she crooned about halfway through the song, a man walked in, his beautiful face and body framed with a pair of magnificent white, feathered wings. She almost fumbled over her words when he glanced in her direction, but she managed to gather herself at the last second and finished the song with a flourish. She smiled softly at all the applause she received and stepped down from the stage, turning quickly to pinch her cheeks for a blush before she turned back around. For all Vampires, it was imperative to stay under the human radar, keeping them unaware of the presence of the Immortal. She walked to the bar and ordered a jack and coke, regardless of the fact that she couldn't drink it. She walked towards the angel, realizing that she couldn't read his mind as she came up next to him. The barman handed her her drink and she smiled at him, shifting her weight from one heeled foot to the other. She glanced over at the angel, his wings clung tightly around him.

"Did you enjoy the show?" she asked with a slight smile, one corner of her lip turned up attractively. She took a mock sip of the drink she held in her hand and smiled again, sitting down on the stool next to him. She crossed her legs and straightened her dress, glancing back up at him.

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The song the lovely vampiress was singing was unfamiliar to Malachi, but he thought it fit the woman who sang it very well. It was a sensual, upbeat song, and the imagery of 'summer wine' was reminiscent of blood. Yes-- very fitting for someone like her. She was a vision, too, in a dress that looked like flowing wine turned to fabric. Tired but curious eyes followed the woman as she left the stage to move towards the bar-- and him. She did stand out in the crowd-- most of the city's vampires hung out in the more upscale, club joints, whereas there tended to be more lycans and werewolves at the pub. And besides, it was a casual place, but the vampire was in a long gown.

Beautiful, unexpected and eyecatching. And then she caught him looking, which was always a bad thing in Malachi's mind. He hated to be caught looking at people, especially women. Especially seductive, vampiric women. He always felt like they either wanted to kill him or turn his wings black.

Still, he couldn't be an ass and just blow off conversation-- especially when he knew conversation was exactly what he needed to take his mind off of the day's harrowing events. "Of course. I don't know the song, but you sang it very well nevertheless." In contrast to the woman's slight smile, the angel's smile always seemed to take over his whole face, making his eyes seem only kinder in the presence of that actively contented look. She was a very proper sort of woman, he noted. Probably old enough to remember corsets, then. You could always tell, with vampires.

"How's the drink?" He smiled wryly, eyes glancing to the unconsumed drink with a knowing look.

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Ari smiled at the angel and glanced down at her drink, realizing that he knew what she was. Well, of course, she thought, he was an angel. She brushed a long piece of her silky, chocolate brown hair out of her eye, her diamond and silver earrings dangling lightly from her ears. Ari was old enough that silver didn't bother her anymore, thankfully, because all of her favorite jewelery was silver. Even the precious Ankh emblazoned dagger that was strapped to her calf under her dress was silver. Tonight she didn't have her katana strapped to her waist, which was unusual for her. But Ari knew that she couldn't exactly get up on stage with a 20" sword tied around her silken evening dress.

"Thank you for complimenting my singing voice," she said with a smile, looking back up at him from under her full black lashes. She ran her pale hand along the deep v-neck of her dress, tracing the fabric with her finger. "My name is Araceli Lucani," she said, extending her hand to him, her remarkable smile still highlighting her face.

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The sight of Ari's eyes glancing up at him from beneath her lashes would usually have thrown the angel off of his game. Women were always a danger for those angels who had chosen to be men in the mortal world (in heaven, angels were purely spirit, and ungendered). He remembered they had been the chief among his problems when he first came to earth. An elder angel, Zadkiel (his heavenly name) had been very much an alien to the desires of the flesh. It was hard, from an angelic point of view, to understand why humans had such a damn problem with staying holy-- without a body, one cannot understand lust or vanity. Pride, yes; envy, perhaps. But not sloth. Not greed.

And so, a long time ago, that look of hers would've sent Malachi stumbling and stuttering, but he'd just spent the day turning the personified Sin of Lust back into her old angelic self. The allure of this vampire was lost on him today-- he was sure he'd either steeled himself against it for long enough that it no longer affected him, or he was wholly desensitized at this point.

But she was easy on the eyes, and he wanted someone to talk to. "Malachi-- nice to meet you, Miss Lucani." He took her hand the the delicate fashion of older days, when a gentleman did not shake a woman's hand, only held it softly, as though it were a baby bird.

Malachi had watched trends come and go, as had the vampiress, but he never did understand why that tradition had been lost. An easy smile rested on his beautiful face as he spoke. "Is that an accent I hear?" She did look a little like she was from southern Europe somewhere, Greece or Italy or Portuguese or something. For all his time on Earth-- and in Europe-- Malachi was still horrible at identifying accents. She didn't sound Greek, though, he was sure of that. Malachi could speak Greek, as well as English, Latin and Hebrew, but none of the newer languages. English had been difficult for him, but he'd been speaking it for a few lifetimes now, and his originally thick Greek accent had faded. The angel gave the vampire a curious look. "It's a strange part of town to find your people in, too. Not here to bait any wolves, are you?"

If she was, he was hightailing it. The angel would have no more trouble tonight.

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Ari grinned at the angel as he lightly gripped her hand, a gesture that was almost as old as she was. She appreciated the angel's old fashioned demeanor, it calmed and soothed her.

"Malachi, what a suitable name for one of you... nature," she noted with a smile, once more picking up her drink and taking a "sip." Regardless of whether the angel knew it was farce, Ari could feel the prod of human eyes on the both of them, and she realized what an attractive pair they made. She grinned, letting her eyes wash over his handsome face, taking in his stunning gray blue eyes.

"I'm originally from Italy," she explained, her fingers playing with the rim of her glass. "My name was once Araceli Luca De' Medici, daughter of Queen Margaret De' Medici, consort of Florence. " As Ari told Malachi a shortened version of her history, she felt like she, in some small way, related to the angel. They had both lived for longer than any mortal could, though she was sure he'd lived a much longer life than her. She felt close to the angel, the look of a heavy burden weighing on his handsome face. Ari wished she could remove that look, and replace it with one of bliss. Though, for the time being, she would simply be his company, and nothing more. What else could she do?

When he mentioned werewolves, she wrinkled her nose. "I care not for the Lycans," she said, looking up at him with a grin. He thought she was up to no good. Well, perhaps she was, just not the kind he assumed. "Their existence is meaningless to me." Ari was starting to feel a bit naked without the weight of her sword resting on her shoulder and so she stood, smiling widely.

"Would you do me a huge favor and wait here for just the quickest of minutes? As amorous as this silk feels against my naked flesh," she said, running her hands along the fabric at her abdomen, "I feel vastly over dressed. I have a change of clothing waiting for me. And if you don't mind the short wait, I would love to chat with you a bit longer." And with that, she winked at him and strode off, her hips swaying to the beat of the song that was playing in the background, barely audible over the murmur of the crowd.

When Ari was out of sight, she raced into the back room where a black duffel bag waited patiently for her. She unzipped the back of the dress and let it fall to the ground, her naked body pale in the darkness. She quickly unzipped the bag and pulled out her normal apparel, a black deep v-ed t-shirt and a pair of black jeans. She had a deep red leather jacket to top it all of and she slid her delicate feet in a pair of round-toed black suede boots. Aside from her change of clothing, Ari also had her cache of weaponry, things that she rarely went around without. She strapped the double holster to her back before putting on her jacket, gently sheathing the three 12" hunting knives at the small of her back. She kept the Ankh dagger strapped to her thigh, tucked away invisibly into her boot and slung her sword around her chest. Though it wasn't exactly the most inconspicuous of weapons, it was Ari's favorite, a gift from her recently deceased brother. She shrugged into her jacket and shoved the red evening gown into the bag, along with her high heels. She opened the door to the back room, now infinitely more comfortable and walked back out into the main part of the pub, hoping the mysterious angel hadn't suddenly vanished.

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The angel was used to supernaturals knowing what he was, but it was uncommon to have someone recognize the origin of his name-- well, his mortal name, as simply being the word for angel. She was clever, this vampire, a quality Malachi respected. She made quite a show for the humans as well, keeping her cheeks red and remembering to sip at her drink. Malachi was not quite manipulative enough for this sort of thing. Most humans thought he was just a very good-looking human, but everyone else could hardly miss the gigantic wings at his back. Wings which were still held tensed and, as much as he'd tried in the shower to clean them, still tinged with red blood in places where it'd spattered onto him.

Angel's blood was notoriously hard to clean, and feathers were annoyingly absorbent.

"Daughter of Margaret? Of Valois? I was not aware she had any children. She had a very colorful life, as I recall." Malachi regarded the little vampiress with a raised brow, smiling slightly beneath the irrepressible melancholy that lay over him like a heavy blanket. You met the most interesting people in Noctum. Here he was in a pub, talking to probably the last surviving Medici. he had to chuckle a bit, his mind going back over the years to that era of Kings and Consorts.

When she said she wasn't there to create trouble with the lycans, he relaxed somewhat. "Ah, that's good then. I hate it when cats and dogs fight, always such a mess." It was a private joke, perhaps, but one that was not hard to follow. Vampires had simply always reminded Malachi of cats, with their slinky, often prissy natures. Lycans and weres, of course, were essentially dog-men. He took another unhurried sip of his beer, watching her stand with a smile on her face.

His eyebrows raised as she described feeling like she was overdressed. Vampires were such sensual creatures-- such an opposite to the etheral nature of his own kind. "Of course, Miss Lucani. I'm not going anywhere, take your time." He watched her evenly, even as she toyed with the silk of her dress and winked suggestively at the poor angel. A sigh escaped him as she left, and he turned back to the bar for a moment.

Old Joe, who was standing nearby, eyed him with a mischevious grin.

"That one's a piece o' work, ain't she? Damn lucky dog, a baby-faced boy like you catchin' her eye. Be careful there."

Malachi couldn't help but laugh at the old human's comment. "Oh, Joe, you know I don't play with fire." A smirk covered the angel's face as he sipped at his beer again, starting to feel a bit better after the day's events. It was hardly a moment before Araceli was back, now outfitted in jeans and boots and a large sword...and who knew what else. People who wore one weapon with that much comfort could be counted on to be wearing several more that you couldn't see.

He eyed the katana at her back. "I've got no eye for weaponry at all, but I know that's not Italian." He smiled easily, figuring there was a story behind a sword like that.

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No sooner than Ari had left, she was back and instead of sitting back down at the bar, she gestured towards one of the more comfortable and perhaps, more secluded booths towards the back. She grinned as he motioned towards her sword, the red silk wrapped sheath gleaming in the dim light.

"Japanese, actually. It was a gift. From a brother," she explained with a smile. She pulled the dagger from her boot, the seal of the Sanguine emblazoned on it's hilt. She flipped in around in between her fingers and then grinned, enjoying a chance to show off.

She took Malachi by the arm and led him over to the booth she'd had her eye on, sitting him down across from her. She sat herself down, her back against the wall and her legs up on the booth, stilettoed boots hanging over the side.

"Please, Malachi, you must call me Araceli. This 'Miss Lucani' business has me feeling like a degraded old spinster." In all her 376 years of life, or, unlife, Ari had never had a partner. Sure, she'd had lovers, but no one who she would ever consider binding herself to. She didn't know if there was a man she could tolerate being around for more than 20 minutes, much less eternity.

She eyed the beautiful angel curiously, wondering what he was thinking. It was so strange for her to not be able to hear his thoughts and it made her feel slightly off her game. Still, she didn't plan on seducing the angel to his ruin, that would be a little much, though she wouldn't have minded ravaging the body the angel had inhabited.

"Ask me anything," she said suddenly, smiling at him, her pearly white teeth gleaming. "What is the first thing that comes to mind when you look at me?"

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He was more than happy for the moment to sit back and watch Ari twirl her knives, with which she was quite deft. Malachi had been right-- the beautiful woman was packing quite a bit more steel than he could readily see. And then, before he could protest, she'd taken him by the arm and was pulling him toward a booth seat in the back, a more lush and secluded spot that the bar where they'd been before.

Oh Lord. What was she dragging him into? He made an effort to keep stride with her so it didn't seem as though the vampire was pulling an unwilling angel back into a shadowy corner, which was honestly concerning him. Generally, vampires tried to kill him, not have conversations with him. Still, him being a much bigger creature than her small, lithe frame, the whole scenario felt like a child leading a tiger around by the claw.

But he could handle talking, as long as it stayed talking. Malachi was quite sure this woman was after something more than that, but his intrinsically innocent nature kept him mostly in the dark as to what that was. He sat down easily across from her by her indication, wings still pressed to his back in that manner that was odd, even for him. He leaned back, but did not go so far as to put his feet on the table, as the woman did.

"Araceli it is, then. Although you're hardly degraded, old or a spinster by any means." He smiled at the pretty woman. Compared to him, she was a child, but he doubted that knowledge would make her feel any younger. Malachi was, in spirit, older than a great deal of the mountains. He tried not to think about it most of the time, though, as that inevitably made him nostalgic as hell.

"Hm, the first thing that comes to mind? You are obviously a beautiful young woman, and even without the weaponry you seem dangerous enough, as dangerous women go. What I don't know is why someone like you would be interested in talking to a dusty old man like me."

He cocked his head, now studying her with a more analytical eye than before, his torso leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees. His face was curious, but not unkind. "Most of your kind generally want to kill me more than anything else out of instinct or hatred or whatever it is that motivates murder. Some are bored with human blood, and want to try mine. There is quite a contingency of people of all races who delight in turning angels black. I'm having trouble figuring out which category you fit into, really, but I'm leaning towards the last. You don't seem particularly hungry or violent." Apparently, it was blunt honesty time for Malachi, something he wasn't generally into doing. His blue-grey eyes continued to bore into hers, searching for some clue as to what she was up to, with her boots on the table and sword at her back. He could sense emotion, sure, but for the moment he was enjoying their game, and didn't want to spoil it with magic.

The angel broke his gaze after some moments to allow the genial smile to rush back into his face, glass of beer rising back up to his mouth. "But then, I never was good at figuring people out."

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Ari watched the angel as he dissected her with his eyes, trying to figure her out.

"Technically, my feathered friend, I am old, I am a spinster, and by most of my kind, I am highly degraded." She grinned, taking her legs off the seat of the booth and leaning her elbow upon the table, thus, leaning closer to the angel. "Why do you think I carry around such weaponry?"

She leaned back, her deep hazel eyes nearly glowing with interest as they roved Malachi's beautiful face for an indication of some sort of negative emotion towards her. She could find none that were apparent. "You see, Malachi, I am not like most of my... species. I turned my back on my kind a long time again. Their antics disgust me." She wrinkled her nose, thinking about both her first and second sire. Kale and Logan... Both were incompetent and both cared naught for her. No one had. Ari had been a complete loner since the time of her transformation and she resented other Vampires.

When he analyzed all the reasons he thought she could have for wanting to hang around him, she had to laugh. "Don't you know, beautiful angel? Not all Vampires are evil. Scouts honor." She held up her middle and pointed finger, a teasing grin lighting her features. "And the very last thing I could ever want is to see those magnificent wings turn black." She cupped her chin in her palm, watching the angels face carefully.

"I'm curious. You are beautiful and the embodiment of all that is good. Why give someone such as myself the time of night?"

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Malachi watched her nose wrinkle after mentioning that the actions of other vampires disgusted her. He wondered what the phase conjured in her mind that would prompt her to make that face. So-- if she didn't like vampires, and she didn't like lycans...and he presumed she regarded humans as prey, who did she like? Angels, apparently, but there were not a large number of angels wandering around earth these days-- it was a very dangerous time to be a white angel on the mortal plane. Temptations abounded.

She laughed, though, at his guess as to what on earth she wanted from him. He couldn't help but smile back at her comment that all of her kind were not evil. "No, that's true, your people are by no means 'all evil.' And I'm glad to hear you're not after a pair of black and white feathers," he said with a chuckle, referencing the prize of having both a white and black feather from a single angel. It was a harrowing idea to him, but he tried to regard it with some degree of joviality. His discomfort was inevitably expressed in his wings, though, which twitched and resettled themselves on his back at the thought.

As to her question, Malachi only shrugged. "Because that is what Good is. " It was a simple answer, but the whole of the truth. "I am cautious, but I cannot be unkind unless it benefits someone. The purpose of my creation, my dharma, was that I inspire goodness and hope, and limit evil where I can. If I didn't do those things, I would become something else. The only way to be me is to be me, or I will, in a sense, die. It can be a difficult concept to explain. So I 'give you the time of night' because that is what I was created to do." Malachi smiled apologetically, expecting a confused nod or some disgust from the vampire, who watched him with rapturous attention. People had called him a machine before, and despite his geniality and good, lion heart, he didn't think the description was far from the truth.

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When Malachi answered her question, at first she was taken aback. She listened intently, preening every syllable of every word that left his comely mouth.

When he was finished, she could hardly take her eyes off of his glorious face. "You are by far the most interesting person I've ever come across, in all my four hundred years," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She leaned even closer still to the angel and, without hardly thinking about it, reached her hand up and grazed his jawline with her fingers in a delicate and almost loving gesture, a stunning smile gracing her own face.

When she came back to her senses, she retrieved her rogue hand and would have blushed, had she the capability to do so. "I apologize. I don't know what came over me." Though she had moved her hand back, her body stayed leaned over the table, tensing to somehow be closer to this ancient being that was a complete mystery to her.

"I have never been in the acquaintance of an angel before, and I must say it is most... disarming," she admitted, feeling vulnerable that she was being so honest and open with this being she knew nothing about.

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The angel was surprised, to say the least, at her response to his explanation. She stared at him for a moment, which he thought was a bad sign until she spoke. He wasn't quite sure what to do with her wide-eyed wonder, except to keep that normal, reassuring, placid smile on his face. "You--" And then, before he really knew what was happenning, her delicate hand was on his face. He felt his breath catch in his throat while things seem to slow around him. It was not common for people to reach out to him, and in a delicate manner like Araceli did.

She seemed to wake, then, and pull her hand away, embarrassed. Perhaps she really wasn't out to tempt him, then-- he was quite thoroughly convinced of that now. She never had explained what she was after, but perhaps now he had an idea of what it was. "Don't worry about it." He cocked a smile a bit, studying her from a different angle now. "You really are a different sort of vampire, aren't you?" He gave a small, soft chuckle.

"I've heard that said before-- I hope it doesn't make you too uncomfortable, you seem like the sort that's more comfortable when...armed." An inside-joke sort of grin followed the comment. He was obviously referencing her sword, and dagger, and whatever else she had on that he didn't know about and didn't really care to. The beer rose to his lips again. It was an odd drink for someone as committed to holiness as he-- he was sure he was probably one of the only angels that drank beer, but the thought of it didn't bother him any. He'd been around long enough to know what didn't matter.

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Ari was completely disarmed, regardless of the copious amount of weaponry she had hidden on her person. She leaned her head to the side, resting against the back of her hand. All she could do was stare at him.

"Dove lei è stato tutta la vita?" she murmured. Where have you been all my life?

She smiled at him, straightening her head, casting her dark lashes downward. "I really don't know what has come over me, Malachi, you'll have to excuse my erratic behavior." She ran her fingers across the table and looked back at her feathered companion.

"I'm sure I've now freaked you out." She shifted in her seat, now making herself feel uncomfortable. She cast an apologetic look upon Malachi and then smiled, almost shyly, which was very uncharacteristic of her.

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She hadn't stopped staring at him since he'd answered her question, and now Malachi felt like he'd said something in the wrong order, or in the wrong circumstance, and somehow accidentally put a spell on her.

Araceli murmured something in Italian, which he couldn't understand. He got the last part-- tutta la vita-- as it was similar in Latin, which he knew. Had she but spoken "ubi fuisti totam meam vitam?," the Latin translation, he might've been a bit more flabbergasted, but for the moment he was just lost. Poor little angel.

"No, don't apologize. I seem to have upset you somehow, something I said bothers you." Genuine concern colored his pretty face, wings finally stretching out and coming to life behind him, spreading very slightly as his concern grew.

And then they shook heartily, along with the man they were attached to, after her next comment. Freak him out? Freak out a man who, just today, fought Lucifer? He laughed hard-- harder than he had in quite some time. After a moment, the angel's laughter was a little frantic, as if the stress of a very trying day was starting to get to the man. He calmed down quickly, though, as he remembered how upset she seemed. "Oh-- oh god, I'm sorry. So sorry, my צִפּוֹרָה. It's just that I don't freak out easy anymore, but after the day I've had, that you would freak me out...ah...haha." The word he said-- 'tzipporet,' little bird, was the sort of Hebrew nickname he gave most people. It was an odd quirk of his, and he sometimes cuoldn't explain the names he gave to people, but that was his habit.

He watched her, both of them now looking thoroughly apologetic. She was bashful now, he thought. What was--

Oh.

Poor little man, he'd just figured out what she was responding to. She was somewhat..smitten with the angel. Malachi went quiet, then, his face growing quite pink. He took another sip of his beer, which was the last of it and somewhat warm at this point. "Well. I, ah. What do you do for a living, Araceli? Or, well, maybe not a living. Er." Malachi was obviously thrown off at this point somewhat, his thoughts rather scattered.