*sigh*
I so wish I was Hiro Nakomura right now. I need to do something creative before my head explodes.
*skitters off to look of stuff on hair dye*


Fallen: Chapter 2Most people passing by room 138 would not have noticed the black clad young man sitting outside of it. They would not have spotted the large scythe that rested against the wall nor the strangely menacing leather bound book that lay open in his lap. They would not have seen the way he clenched his fists and stared holes into the opposing wall. Most people didnt see angels and very few knew their names which is why Azrael looked so very puzzled as he contemplated Jared Olsens name. He would have never remembered the man, him having died in such an ordinary manner, if it had not been for the womans mention of him earlierFallen: Chapter 2


Fallen: Chapter 1Sixteen years laterFallen: Chapter 1
It was the first time in ages a death had really called to him. So unbearably strong was the pull that Azrael already wore his infamous dark scowl as he stepped out onto the slick pavement. It was the look of death so often painted of grim reapers and dark angels, the expression that confirmed that death was indeed unkind.
Flashing blue lights cast eerie shadows on nearby snow banks, illuminating the ghastly scene before him in frame-by-frame stills like multicolored strobe lights. The sirens wailed and the paramedics sighed, but the whole routine was off somehow. Azrael leaned on his s


Fallen: PrologueThere was a pause Then a flood of music. Torrents of scales filled the small house. They bounced off the towers of boxes piled outside doorways, reverberating off half painted walls in the new nursery. Chords made the floorboards quake and the chairs buzz. The music swelled and swelled and shook the house to the foundation, rising to its final dazzling crescendo. Then it faded. The last few bars, played in the delicate higher octave, slipped into silence. And the house was quiet again.Fallen: Prologue
The woman slumped, exhausted. Her fingers withdrew from the ivory keys and fell to her swollen middle. The midmorning breeze that waft
Ophelia