I'm gonna punch you until I'm hard okay go

[jermastrat]

Something had to distract him. Thoughts of home, how much time he had left, how much damage had been done, what he had done- Gabriel was no coward, but this was all too much for him to bear. He didn't want to, surely he could put it aside for now, just for a little while. The fact that he could even come to that decision on his own prompted a bit of a thrill, he couldn't deny...

Was it cheating to join the wrestling match, being as he was? Well he certainly didn't think so. Someone here had to be good enough to make him struggle, right? ... Well, probably not, as far as he was concerned, but the effort would be commendable at least. And he's a terribly sore winner too, as multiple opponents would soon find. The angel certainly seemed proud of himself, over proud really, rolling his shoulders before hefting the mallet he'd been offered up again, wings and halo blazing as the next opponent would be shot a smug smile.

"Come. I'll be happy to put you in your place." In stark contrast to the wild look in the angel's eyes, that voice was alarmingly soothing.

Comments

[temperedguardian]

This place is unfamiliar, and that makes them prickly and defensive. The muddling scents don't help either, the way the air puddles and pools, weighed down by the overstimulating amount of strangeness in the air currents.

They're warm and irritable by the time they get pushed into the ring, armorless and with nothing to defend themselves. They're offered a few weapons to make things more interesting, but they fight best with their bare hands in this case. This is supposed to be playful, some sort of mortal custom, right? No need to hurt anyone much...

They hold themselves less comfortably than Gabriel does, more stiff and defensive. White, curly hair tumbles to their shoulders and frames an angular, dark face; instead of feathers, the upper half of their face is obscured by black and blue butterfly wings, iridescent and shimmering and in constant motion. Their eyes are bright, glittering eyespots that move and shift as Cassiel turns their attention this way and that.

The voice that rings out is familiar, too much so; it makes their wounds ache. (They're closed now, nothing but scarring to mark their presence, but angels don't scar the way mortals do. They pattern themselves in silver and gold, gold for deep wounds and silver for light ones.)

It's strange to see Gabriel - that must be Gabriel, surely it can't be anyone else -completely without armor or helm. They've never seen his face or naked body before, but that radiant look of smugness is...very characteristic of him.

They can't think of anything good to say, so they fall back on something approaching humor.

"Have you not done that enough?"