Benji slumped in his chair, one arm slung over the back and his legs sticking straight out in front, making himself a hazard for anyone trying to cross the floor without tripping. Some people were falling-down-drunk anyway, and didn't need the young man's help to end up flat on their faces. Benji, himself, hadn't touched a drop. He'd bought a drink, but had suddenly found it uninteresting and let it sit on the table.

This rather nondescript club was cramped and noisy, just as one would expect it to be, this late on a weekend night. The band, on a slightly raised platform, was so loud in the small space that Benji couldn't tell if they were any good or not. Yawning, he ran a hand back through his wiry hair and let it fall where it would. He was starting to wonder why he'd come out tonight,... it seemed he'd arrived too late to meet anyone who'd remember him the following morning.

Jibril had been one of the people who fell-down-drunk, but he got up an hour or so later and crawled as far away from the area he had been in. Which explains why he was at the bar kind of area, dodging feet the best a drunk-of-his-feet and stoned/high/whatever Angel could. It'd been a long time since he had gotten this messy.

He had been lazy in straightening his hair earlier, so, well, actually...he never really did straighten his hair, did he? He had washed, dyed, and dried, that was all. His hair was a collage of pinks, from the palest blush to the brightest neon, any and every shade of pink could be seen. His hair hung in ringlets that fell in his face and each individual lock was a different shade of pink, no two same colors touched the other.

Yea, that had taken a while to do. A long while.

He was looking his grungiest; a ripped and torn grey tank top, silver flannel shirt, and heavy ass 'Goth' pants. They wer huge and heavy, looking as if the were made out of chains, mesh, fishnet, and pockets. All black, and made out of a heavy duty kind of cloth mess, save for the fishnet and mesh. The chains would jingle each time he moved and made some sort of music with his boots each time he walked.

His shoes were definetly a sight. Pant legs tucked in for the most part, they were knee-high and covered with straps and huge silver buckles. The heel was thick and must have been at least four inches. He had his strongest belt on. A thick black leather thing with chains to help support and an iron buckle in the shape of the moon. And this was an every day outfit.

His peircings were the same. 'Cept his lower torso was showing becuase the tank top was ripped at the midriff. Shpwing off a bellybutton and yest another new tattoo, right below the bellybutton on the hip line. It was black as usual, and made up of flowers and swirls, one swirl went around his navel. He had a large lip stud, a simple nose ring, a tongue stud, two eyebrow rings, and four ear rings total. Two on each ear, one set was large hoop rings and the other set were some lil' pentacles. Really cute.

His bright green eyes were glowing like those cheap luminescent glow in the dark sticks, which were hanging around his neck. The matched the shininess of some glossy, colorful beads that were aruond his wrists along with a nice big watch. Tatoos were visible on his arms since he pulled up the sleeves on some of his back tattoo was visible too.

He had just walke over and was leaning against some structure, maybe a wall, a counter,, or another person. Where was he? Right across from Benji, glossy eyes looking over the crowd and an amused smile on his pretty lips. A joint was dangling from his mouth and he'd take puffs every now and then.

Bwrar.

Benji noticed Jibril - how could he not? His own manner of dress was positively tame in comparison. A plain white t-shirt over a tight, radoactive green longsleeved one, a pair of black jeans with a number of pointless keychains and no keys clipped to them,... and his only piercing was a single black ring, in the cartilage of his right ear.
Completely unremarkable.

He raised his head slightly, and eyed Jibil for a few moments. Someone who'd dress like that had to be interesting to talk to, right?
And Benji didn't want this night to be a total waste...

Pushing his chair back from the table, Benji got up and began making his way over towards Jibril - not shy at all, this one.

Wow. Not a lot of people actually come to Jibril, he generally drifts towards them. And way too many people just take one look at him and run, after all, since he dresses like that, he isn't a nice person is he? Which can be the most untruest thing a person can say. When one is a little closer, they can feel Jib's aura. He is probably one of the kindest, sweetest persons you'll ever meet.

Sure, he has a few downsides...smokes pot, drinks too much, hardly eats, hardly sleeps, and loves psychotic evil teenaged boys but...well...

He's Jibril.

Naturally he wasn't paying attention to the band, but to the people. And he also noticed someone coming towards him. There is a difference between someone coming towards his direction and coming towards you. Jibril can tell this difference and thus, perks up slightly, taking a drag of his joint before blowing out the smoke from his nose and mouth leisurely.

Joint between two slim, elegant fingers, he watches the other with a curious expression. Is this someone he can enjoy the night with?

Benji was halfway there when he almost changed his mind. Maybe he'd do better to just wait until someone came up to him - nahhh. No time like the present.

"H'lo," he said, loud enough to be heard over the cacophony of voice and music. He offered a smirk, nodding to the band. Conversations had to start somewhere. "How about this music, huh? You like?"

Jibril had nothing to offer but a large, toothy smile, perfectly straight, pure white, and dazzling. Hey, he was an angel. A lot of beings had very nice smiles. He looked over at the band, they were young and a little too light for him.

"They aren't bad..."

Very deep, husky voice, usually completely opposite of what people expect. He has an unrecognizable accent, is it Arabic? German? What? And he rolls his rs, but it is definetly not Spanish or anything else becuase aside from that he prnounces all words and syllables as perfectly as an ettiquette instructor.

"I like heavy, heavy music, when you can't even hear the singing..."

For his rock that is, he likes opera too, and there is no way you could miss one of those voices. Now is there?

He used one hand and pulled up his pants slighty, they were falling slightly from the waist. Thus, his navy and white boxers were being revealed. It didn't take much to pull them up to him, but it was rather useless, considering they would slip rigth back down. He grinned softly at the other.

"How about you?"

"Iunno, whatever sounds good at the time. Fast, slow, dark... music for every occasion," Benji smirked, giving a one-shouldered shrug. It didn't help that he had somewhat nebulous tastes in music. Often he'd like a single song from a particular artist, and then none of the others.
"This band's... bleh. Not my kind of thing at the moment. And it's really damn loud in here - I think my eardrums are on the verge of breaking."

Jibril chuckled, shaking his heads. Likes everything, hm? Jibril isn't quite like that, he likes only certain types and is actually very picky with his music. Not so versatile. Now, with people he likes just about everyone and anyone, but not music.

"If you hadn't said anything...I would've swirn mine already did..."

Maybe Benji wouldn't notice becuase of the music, but despite the fact Jibril is shouting, it doesn't sound like he is shouting. His breathe is wispy, wobbly almost, with spaces. After all he is high, look at his wide pupils, and drunk, look at the gracefully sloppy way he moves.

"Wanna get some fresh air?"

Puff to the side and his grin gets wider, but in a friendly non-harmful way. He ain't a bad person.

Benji blinked at him. t wasn't an odd request, just.. unexpected.
But after all,... why not?

"Yeah, sure. Air would be good," he nodded in agreement. He began edging towards the door, through the crush of people.

Jibril was a better edger-through-crowds person that Benji was. And he was stronger. Though the crowd mushed them together, Jibril was able to get through while practically carrying Benji on his chest.

It must have been interesting. You know his aura? How strong it is? The buzzing feeling would have probably been corsing through the other. It isn't an unpleasant thing, but it certainly isn't normal. Any cuts? Gone. Bruises? Gone. Jibril is like a walking med-kit that can heal just about anything and everything. Takes a few thousand years to get the ability, but it is worth the wait. Seriously, regeneration is a blessing.

"'ere we go!"

One last tug, pulling them out of the crowd and they are at the doors, going out them in fact. Goodness does the air feel so nice. Jibril is one to take in a deep breath and smile, enjoying the feeling of crisp, cold air in his burning lungs.

It's amazing he doesn't start to hack.

"Whew..." Benji sighed. "I can breathe again. Thank goodness."

Benji was more than a little weirded out by Jibril. Yes, appearance was a factor in that, but mainly there was just something inherently bizarre about the guy that he really couldn't specify. Of course, Benji would be liable to chalk up any strange feelings to the thick-as-pea-soup atmosphere in the club - who knew what people were smoking in there?

Because, you know. People can't have that effect on other people.

(( Ack! No posie in a bit, sorry >< ))

Yes they can. It just depends on what that person is.

Jibril finished his joint in one last, long drag and then crushed it, in his fist. No tossing it on the ground though. He tossed it instead into a trash can. Burn marks? Noooo, perfectly unmarked pale skin. His hair only helped more to pale it out. All the while he was blowing smoke out slowly, even making a few rings for self amusement before blowing the rest out through his nose.

He had a grin on, head titled up to look at the sky.

"It's awfully pretty."

Which was true. The moon was out, waning and about half-way to new moon, but it was still a pretty sight and gave some light. There were a few stars, but the clouds were probably the rettiest sight. There were a few of them, dark on the bottom, but practially glowing from what little moonlight was shining on them.

"It's prettier when you are up there."

That could be taken a few ways. The most common way though, is that he's flown in a plne during the night and seen it that way. Easier to except, right?

Benj glanced over at him. "Yeah. It's nice."

'Plane' isn't the first thing that comes to mind, but he's glad when it finally does occur to him. It made sense. And if Jibril meant anything else, well - Benji would just assume that he was stoned off his ass and talking crazy. Benji's a level-headed sort, most of the time... he might play games fraught with magic and strange occurrences, but come on, this is the real world. He knows the difference.
Or thinks he does.

Or thinks he does.

Benji needs to totally spend some more time with his brother. Hopefully though, he doesn't have the bad luck Keye does or did have. Yea, lets really hope that.

Jibril is always stoned off his ass and talkin' crazy. Well, to at least Unnish people find his words crazy. He's just some old angel who likes young people cause well, most of them are happier. I said /most/. Not all.

Definetely not all.

Which would bring up the question, than why does he hang out with Logan? Uuuh...cause? Which brings up the more further ironic realization (not to Jib 'cause he dun't know, nor does Benji) that this is the brother of one of Logan' favorite victims. Kinda weird, ya?

"'m Jibril..."

Hint of an accent, slightly slurred, but his name is pronounced properly. Arabic, of course (no J sound, Y instead). No need to say he smiled 'cause he's been doing that ever since he got out here. He did extend his hand though. Care-free attitude, though at times it's more like 'I don't give a shit' but right now...he's in a damn good mood.

"I'm Benjamin," he replied, taking the offered hand, giving a brief but firm shake, then letting go. "Or Ben, Benji, Benj, Benny - any other name you can make out of, 's long as I know you're talking to me when you use it."

('Benjamin' is one of those names that's prone to nicknames. Three syllables is too much of a mouthful.)

"So. Jibril." He smirked, leaning back against a convenient wall, "What brings you out here tonight?"

"Benja..." A chuckle. Looks like there is another to add to his list of nicknames. Jibril has decided that he likes Benja. "Nice to meet you."

Jibril leaned back, almost in the shadows. One eye-catching characteristic is revealed. His eyes /glow/, not bright and shiny, they /glow/ like lightbulbs for goodness sakes. Bright green glow with flecks of yellow and pink. Interesting.

"Boredom...I didn't have much to do really..."

For once, that isn't the whole truth, but he doesn't remember. He sort of accidently killed someone. It was an accident! To spare ucky details I won't go on and descrbe things. He felt guilty about it too. All Jibril really remembers is waking up covered in blood and the taste of blood in his mouth. He ate someone, okay? Anger can make him do funny things. Next subject please.

"You?"

'Benja'. Hm. That's one he hasn't heard before.
...It sounds vaguely girly.

But he's not going to let it bother him.

"Yeah, er - same here," the young man nodded, "Just bored. Um..."
What is going on with this guy's eyes?
"...Are you wearing, like, special contacts or something?"

Sounds like African to Jibril. africa was a nice lpace. Not as nice as Arabia, but it was still nice.

"Huh?" Jibril blinked, the glow shadowed for a plit second and then he stuck out his lower lip and shook his head. "No, I'm not...just my normal eyes..."

That can see a helluva lot better than Benja's and a helluva lot farther. Kinda woohoo, yea? In fact, he can see in the dark and can see Benja perfectly. His smile hadn't faded, jsut distorted before he relxed against a wall himself, going further into the shadows and eyes brightening even more. Like a flashlight. Up lose in the night, it would shed green light on a person.

Pretty weird, huh?

"Well,...correct me if I'm wrong,.. or if someone spiked my drink,... but...- " Here he peered suspiciously at Jibril, large eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out just how this odd light was possible, "-your, er, eyes. They're. Well, they're glowing. You sure you don't have glow-in-the-dark contacts on or something?"

"Well...I can pull my eyes out and have them regrow to prove they are naturally like this...done it before..."

He shrugged.

"I'm positive, my eyes are natural. Only humans need contacts."

And he wasn't hu-maaaan! Another shrug and he titled his head back, looking up at the night sky.

"...Only humans..."

Besides a few near blind creatues. You will run into a few but he seriously doesn't.

"Uh. No eye-pulling-out, thanks," Benjamin smirked weakly, and decided to humor the guy. Of course the glow had to be from contacts - or something. It had seemed quite plain to him that Jibril was utterly smashed, so no need to get worked up over anything his said. People say and do strange things when high, after all.

He coughed to cover up a small laugh. "What do you mean, only humans?"
Next thing, he's going to tell me he's an alien beamed down from the mothership.
(He shivered involuntarily at that thought.)

Jibril was utterly smashed, yes, but alchohol didn't have quite the same effect on him anymore. His alchohol intake was so great tongiht, it would have killed about 6 beer-guzzling German men at a drinking contest. Pretty damn stupid he is, yes.

"Weeell...I suppose a few others of us /might/ need glasses if we have vad eyes, but generally they are never /that/ bad..." He nodded sagely. "But you see, only when you get old...really old, I mean like my age old-" He doesn't know how old, but he has an idea. "-that's when your power is so great your eyes get to glow...after a few more millenia, our bodies glow..."

A shrug.

"Us Angels take a while to mature...5,000 or so years I think..."

Benji really laughed at that explanation.

"Jibril, you're a riot," he grinned, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye. "Five-thousand year old angel - heh heh... did you just come up with that rigt off the top of your head? That's amazing..."

Give you one guess on whether he thinks Jibril's serious or not.

The look on Jibril's face was one neither of amusement or displeaure. It was just blank, as if he was trying to register why the other thought he was so funny.

"But I'm not 5,000 years old..." He lookd down, rather sad-like, maybe more melancholy.

"I don't know how old I am..." Can't remember anything really.

A shrug.

"I didn't come up with it, it always has been that way I think. As an Angel, I should know that..."

A blank face still, head titled, glowing eyes becoming even brighter-if possible.

"Good god - you're serious, aren't you."
He stared at Jibril, his urge to laugh diminished to faint desire to release a nervous giggle or two.
"So." He tilted his head to one side. He still doesn't believe that what Jibril tells him is true, of course. It's not that he's denying the truth so much as he can't see that it could possibly be the truth. Glowing eyes do not constitute proof. "So,...an angel. Right. What're you doing here then? 'S today, like, a day off for you? Or're you here to save lost souls or something?"

A nod. "Why wouldn't I be serious?"

"A few days off? Saving lost souls?"

Jibril looked confused for a second before it hit him.

"Oooh. What those churches say. Sorry to burst your bubble Ben, but there ain't no such Angel. That church mess-nope, no such thing. Now, there may be nice ones, but you can find any personality. There is no good or evil. It all depends on how they were raised and such. I'm one of the nicer folks that you'll find strolling around at night."

He shrugged.

"You can find almost any type of creatures like Fae and such. Ran into a few Demons here. And they aren't all 'Evil', depends mainly on their nature and species I suppose."

Another shrug.

"You'd have to go to a demonologist, I'm no expert. Then again, demonologists don't know much, 'specially if they are just human."

Humans don't know how they think.

"And as for why I'm here? Just bored. Nothing else to do since I don't do anything really... 'cept have sex and take care of Logan."

Benji just nodded blankly, following along with the words but plainly not fully comprehending. Fae? Demons?
The hell?!!
This Jibril guy has clearly had one puff too many.
Those things belonged in video games. The sword-slinging, violent, medieval kind.

"Uh-huh," Benji said slowly. Jibril was being very... frank, wasn't he. "Um. Who's Logan?"

"No one of your concern."

That wasn't meant to come out as such a harsh snap, and it was obvious that he regretted the tone, judging by the sudden apologetic look.

"Sorry, I just don't like talking about him...he gets into 'nough trouble as it is..."

Quick subject change, back to previous.

"You don't believe do you?"

He eyed the other, a flash going through those eerie eyes.

"What would it take to prove it to you? Just 'cause I'm in the mood...my wings perhaps?"

C'mon Ben, be creative.

"Just asking," Benji shrugged, not bothered in the least by the sudden outburst.

"Heck, Iunno." He looked oddly at Jibril. "Do something,.. angelic. Wings'd do the trick, if you've really got them,...except I don't see how that can be, unless they're really tiny or something,.."

"Something angelic?" Jibril raised his eyebrows but shrugged. "I think I'll just show you my wings."

Now, what carefully. This usd to be an excrutiatingly painful process.

Jibril stepped forward, into the light and bean removing his shirt. It came off easilly and he tucked it into the front of his belt line. All over his chest are scars, thick and thin, very noticable and pale, long and short, old and well, not new. And then he turns around, tying his hair up the best he can with a tie. On his back is an awesomely amazing tattoo, black and of swirls with odd looking writing. Is it even writing at all?

He stretched his back, some bones popping as he did so and then hunched forward slightly. If one is paying close attention, they really don't need to, because it is obvious what is happening. Two spots are rising on his back, the skin being pushed up and stretched, and it keeps stretching and stretching until a most horrible noise occurs - that of flesh ripping apart. And black is shown and silver liquid too and a sudden crack and the black is shoved out, expanding and flinging out.

Sending that silver every wear, even a bit onto Ben, clothes and skin. But it isn't anything like acid so it doesn't hurt him. The blak, now obviously feathered wings expand out into an awes inspiring roughly 20 something foot wingspan. they are flapping, drying themselves. How he is able to store them like that is beyond many people, but it's normal to him, but too difficult for this authoress to explain. A few more flaps and they are dry.

He had shed his feathers, so these were all lovely, ebony and shiny black feathers, though the bottom ones wear getting a little worn looking. Jibril turned around then, wings coming closer to his body, scarping the ground. They almost coccuned him and he cocked his head as if to say...

Yes?

Speechless for once, the young man staggered backwards, his already-large eyes much wider and more surprised-looking than normal.

"Holy fuck!" he exclaimed, once capable of speech again. He raised a shaking hand to point at the wings, then noticed a spatter of the silver liquid on his fingers and hurriedly, nervously, scrubbed it off on his clothes.
He then stared at Jibril for a long moment before asking, "...Can I - can I touch them?"

Jibril eyed him, finding the other's speechlessness rather amusing actually. At least now there was little doubt left about what he was.

Touch his wings though? Jibril eyed the other, looking over his hands and whole body carefully. Jibril is, as many creatures with wings are, cautious but finally after a minute or two, he walked forward, stretching one out to Ben.

"Be careful. I can feel everything."

A warning. One mess up and this little privelage is taken away. Not everyday you get to touch an old, pure blood Angel's wings.

Ben should feel special.

"O-okay," Ben nodded. "I'll be careful, I swear."

He'd feel special if he knew that he should. But he just felt curious, and bewildered, and a little afraid of the guy - angel? - with the 20-foot wingspan. He reached hesitantly out and brushed his fingers along the sleek feathers, pulling back almost immediately. A few seconds later, he tried again, managing to keep his palm in contact with the wing for more than a moment.

"Holy... they are real..."

"And you had any doubt?"

His wing twitched at first, when it was touched and then it didn't move much. It took all of Jibril's upper body to use them. His legs were for keeping balanced and standing - you really don't want to know how heavy they are - and one should watch his torso. How each time he moves a wing, the his muscles are tightened and shifting. Jibril was watching him carefully.

"You're a bit shocked." An obvious observation. "You aren't the first...even those who know-" He doesn't call them Unnies or Innies. "-are shocked at times. I suppose one doesn't see an Angel very often anymore."

Jibril cocked his head. Maybe this boy knows someone who knows about this world of magic, he doesn't want to explain anything - he wouldn't be of much help. He'd try to explain in a way to complex way.

"So you really are an angel..." the young man muttered, letting his hand drop away from the wings, though he still stared at them for a little longer.

He blinked at Jibril. "Those who know?...There are other- well of course there'd be other angels, you can't be the only one, right...?" (He doesn't sound sure of anything he says, now).

Jibril's wing came back to his body and he gave a shrug.

"'m sure there might be a few others here...quite a few are mixed though, and I'm sure there are others all around the world...You can find just about anything and everything..." A sigh. "Don't ask me about the Gods either, thank-you."

He crossed his arms across his waist, getting comfortable. He can fall asleep standing when his wings are out - just use them for balance.

"Uhh... Gods. Right. I won't," he shook his head. He can barely handle the idea of angels at the moment, so it's better for him that he doesn't yet consider the existence of other things.

Though you can bet that, later, he's going to be overwhelmed by how utterly awesome this is.

Who wouldn't? I'm sure I would've fainted by now if I had been caught in a situation like this.

Jibril raised an eyebrow but grinned, he was most handsome when he had a positive expression on his face. And it made him look much friendlier. He upturned his hands, shrugging.

"Well, that is that, now ain't it? Anything you really want to ask now? Before I go? I can only tell you so much."

His wings were twitching. He'd go flying soon. It was in the air, his aura was bursting with energy, adding only more power to that buzzing feeling that he created in a person.

"I, um..." Blink. "Nnno. I don't think so."

You can bet he'll think of a million questions the second Jibril's gone, but for now, his mind is blank.

"Mhm, well..."

He eyed Benji for a second then sighed and reached into his pocket and pulled out to items. The clicking noise revealed one to be a pen and the scratching noise against the other object tells one its a peice of paper. Mumbling something to himself he then put the pen cap back on and stuck it in his pocket while offering the peice of paper with Jibril's elegant scribbling on it.

It read:

Questions? Call me on my cell.

And below was his phone number. Another shrug.

"I guess its only polite, since I did just dump some information on your shoulders. If you can't seem to find anyone else, just call me. Or if you get hurt or something and would like to get fixed up - I'm pretty handy. But seriously, don't go asking around if people know stuff, too obvious, actually...you may have a friend or family member who knows about this stuff. You never know..."

Most he has said all day. Weird. Another shrug and (assumiong Ben took the paper), the tall Angel turned, walking over to a clearer space. Then he looked at Benji, nodding his head.

"Later Benja."

And with a mighty flap (with a gust so strong it coupld knock over quite a few, or unbalance a few others) he was launched into the air. Hair blown back and clothes flapping about. But he had the largest grin in his face. Of course he had to move the wings to work and so they started flapping, not too often, and he continued into the air, higher and higher, dissapearing into the clouds and moonlight.