Highest Rank: #127 in Paranormal (1.14.17) Briseis "Bree" Devereaux is not your average 20-something paramedic. From the time she was 13, she had the uncanny ability to heal and even revive the recently deceased. A gifted Necromancer, she can only...
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There wasn't much out in the world, living or dead, that managed to frighten Micah. He was a tried and true reaper veteran. He'd worked almost every major disaster in human history, and have seen and learned things that would rattle even some angels from their comfort level. He was the darkness that crept under humanity and gave them comfort when their time on earth was done. Yet nothing could have ever prepared him for such a challenge.
Reapers didn't date.
Hell, even the ones that were serious about their jobs, like him, didn't even get laid. It was pure sacrilege. You were to know the world but not be of it. It was an ironclad rule of being a Reaper.
Rubbing his temples, he groaned. What the hell did he get himself into this whole mission has been one cluster after the next. It was then he started to realize that he would most likely be on his hands and knees crawling and begging to have his job back after this one was done, if he managed to survive his encounter with Azrael. He would never be able to live it up.
Standing up, Micah cursed himself for being there alone. He needed Saffron. Desperately. What the hell would he do on a date? Should he just say no? Seemed like the smartest thing to do. Pacing a bit in front of the sofa, he tried to ignore the sounds and humming from Briseis in her room. Tired of hearing the preacher blaring on the TV, he finally turned it off with a huff. Any human that thought they had the world completely figured out were terrifying...and delusional.
Turning his attention back to Briseis, he frowned at her door. She was getting ready, so he needed to do the same. Looking at his clothes, he sighed. He had no other clothing except what he wore. He picked up a bit of his black shirt and smelled it. Kinda rosy, kinda not, he thought.
Just then, Briseis walked out her room wearing a soft coral tunic and jeans that flaunted her curves flawlessly. Her hair was pinned up into a messy bun complete with a soft pink ribbon. Stray tendrils fluttered past her temples and Micah found himself staring. Her sweet, delicate features were hard to ignore and he felt that familiar pull to her again.
Carrying a pair of flats in her hand, she looked up to see Micah standing there looking like a lost pup. She grunted, figuring as much. She laughed as she braced herself against the door frame, slipping her shoes on. "You're not going to wear that are you?"
"Um, you know? Perhaps this isn't a good idea." Micah warned.
She held up her hand. "Hold on a min." She walked into her room and after a few moments returned with a dark blue t-shirt in her hands. Marching over to him, she placed it in his hands. "Here. This should fit you. You look like you're going to a funeral in all that black."
Micah unbundled the t-shirt to inspect it. He looked back at her with furrowed brows. "What's a 'Deftones?'.
Briseis smiled. "It's a badass band I went to see in concert many years ago when I was cool. It's all I have left of a semblance of teenage joy, so don't mess it up."
