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Hey. I might take that personally. [He doesn't, looking more amused than offended]

All those feathers, they stick to everything.

"You're...you're an angel?" She asks suspiciously, narrowing her eyes, trying to figure out whether she has like Angel radar now or something. She squints hard. Nope. He looks like a regular guy to her. Which is, OHMYGOD, so frustrating.

Val huffs out a half-laugh. "Is it a sin to threaten to turn one into a nice down pillow? I mean, come on, give me something, right?"

Edited 2014-02-08 22:35 (UTC)

A snort. "Asking the wrong person, religion's not my thing." Too much control for her taste, no thank you. "But think of the pillow fights."

Val smiled toothily into the sky as she considered plucking Micheal's feathers right out of his righteous 'holier-than-thou' ass. And who actually cares that he actually happens to be holier-than-thou? Such a technicality. What was more important was that he was a total douche. "Pffft. Epic. Yeaaa, religion is not my thing either. Never really was a believer, you know?" Except that, apparently, they believed in her. Or bet against her. Either way, same thing. "Anyway, name's Valora. Or Val."

That is not the general consensus.

"I doubt the general population has ever had the pleasure of drawing that conclusion based on experience." She arches a brow. Nice. If he didn't think she was crazy before than this should cement it nicely. Her lips slightly turned down in consideration. Of course, she could still be crazy, she thought. That would actually have been somewhat...comforting.

"Aryn. Jury's still out on whether I believe in a higher power -- or demons -- but my problem's always more along the lines of 'You can worry about how I'm living my life when you clean up yours.' You know?" She eyes her curiously. "So what's with the angels and demons talk?"

Alejo is hardly one to talk about being crazy. Besides, she's a woman, women are always a little bit crazy. He doesn't bat an eyelid, acting casual as ever.

"True, but the people who claim experience... Well, I have never heard them speak ill of angels. Demons, however..." He shrugs and lifts his hands to finish with a non-verbal 'not so much'.

"Let's just say...the last few days have been a bit of a...revelation." Pun intended. "One that there is not enough liqueur in the world for. Not that I won't try to prove that assertion wrong. Act-..actually," She says, looking around,"is it too early to start drinking?"

"Yeah, well, those people? Haven't met the utter douchebag that is Michael." She balls her hands up into fists at her sides, her nails digging little half-moons into her palms. "Demons are evil. I mean they assume it, you know it, end of story. You know what to expect from them...for the most part. Angels? Holy shit, they're just..." What's the word, what's the word? It's on the tip of her tongue, almost. She searches her brain for the right word, her hands flailing a little in the air as if she were trying to convey the word with them, instead, it looks like she's attempting to strangle air in her frustration...or maybe she's playing at being Italian. Who knows. Exasperated she sighs and gives up, pinching the bridge of her nose in her fingers.

"Just...yeah." Well, that was eloquent.

Can't say I have the basis to judge on that.

Trust me, that's a good thing.

"I know that feeling--" (Not literally.) "--and I'm not jealous." She smirks. "Too early depends on who you ask. But you know, it's five o'clock somewhere." In other words, drink up.

I'll take your word for it. I'm in no hurry to meet either.

"San Miguel. You are complaining about the archangel of archangels?" This would be Alejo's 'are you serious' face.

"If calling him a douche equals complaining than that is exactly what I'm doing." If she could remember to take deep breaths than maybe she might remember that the whole 'smit ye' element was completely doable remotely. She takes one deep breath and then another. "Sorry." Get a grip. Valora smile looks slightly strangled. 'Great. You should probably go before he calls 911.'

"I--I should probably go."

No. Neither are particularly good company, either...

Well. That was one way to start a conversation. I am especially grateful that you haven't tried to get me fitted for a straightjacket. Yet.

"It sounds like complaining to me." Alejo folds his arms and tilts his head. "Oh no, I think you should explain yourself before you try to run away."

Do excuse him. It's his Christian beliefs mixed with a deep respect of warrior types. Although he's not aiming to come across as aggressive, more curious. He's trying to decide whether or not she's crazy. For being so angry at Michael, not for believing in him.

Valora pointed at Aryn. "I like the way you think. You're a problem solver. Problem solvers are good." Bar, yes. Because who wouldn't get sloshed after what she had just seen?

Trust me, I've had stranger conversations. It comes with the territory.

"Very good." She retorted hotly. "Then we're on the same page." She looked passed him, trying not to fix her eyes directly on him where he might see the haunted look in her eyes passed the anger. I am calm. I am still. I am strong. She repeated in her head. "I don't believe that I need to explain anything." And running? Was looking like a fantastic idea right now. She wanted to run so hard and so far that her lungs hurt. That they would never find her again. But how does one hide from the eyes of heaven? Maybe except in hell. She covered the shudder that went through her with a flippant shrug.

"I can't. I can't be what they made me." Her voice was quiet but steady. Too steady in its realization.

Edited 2014-02-09 01:46 (UTC)

Oh? What territory would that be?

Toronto Metropolitan Police.