ı γɛąιιყ ɖơŋ'ɬ ƙŋơщ ąŋყɱơγɛ. [σc вαckѕtσríєѕ]

вlαír

I swing my thick braid over my shoulder, scoffing a bit as I look around. A barren desert. Of course this is where I land. Of feckin' course. I huff, sending many curses in God's way. I could care less. I'd just gotten thrown out of heaven for fecks sake! Why should I care. I look around, surveying my surroundings. I won't survive long out here. I then decide it'd be best to just fly and find somewhere to camp out. Shouldn't be that hard, eh? Eh.

My wings, once a golden white and that are now streaked through with charcoal, flare out. Probably a permanent reminder of what I did. What did I do exactly? Well, you see, a higher up angel pissed me off and I tried to kill them. A bit irrational, but that's just what I do. My wings ruffle a bit, cleaning the dust from out of the feathers. A soft huff escapes my lips as I start to run forward. Soon enough, my wings catch air and I shoot upwards. I sigh a bit, content, though that mood probably wouldn't last long. I always enjoyed getting to fly, as it made me feel like I wasn't tied down or trapped. And I guess now I'm not, seeing as how I've cut most ties to above.

I'm now a fallen angel.

I guess the realization of that five word, seventeen lettered statement sets in and I plummet towards the hard, dry earth. A huff escapes my lungs as I breathe heavily for air. Dust finds its way into my mouth though, causing me to cough to try and expel the dust now condemning my lungs. Though it can't kill me, it's very uncomfortable and can cause me sickness. Which I don't care for. Soon enough though, I feel most of the dust dissipate. Small pools of tears set in my eyes, a side effect from coughing so much or from the dust swimming in the air. I wipe them away though, standing, as I run my hands through the feathers in my wings. Surprisingly, they feel coarse, instead of soft as how most humans seem to imagine them.

Suddenly though, the ground beneath me shakes and opens up, causing me to plummet downwards. I screech, immediately trying to fly up out of the now gaping hole. What in the bloody hell had just happened? I don't question it too much, but fly north, away from whatever place this is.

•••

I fly somewhere cold, a bit of a notch up from the extremely hot climate I was in about three hours ago. There's snow everywhere, which explains the cold, and there's a bunch of water as well. I land on the outskirts of a city. I don't really want to draw attention to myself anyways. Seeing as how I'm not really dressed for the weather, I shiver. Shorts and a shirt aren't a good idea for this climate. I rub at my barely clothed arms, walking off. I let down my hair, twitching a bit as it touches the backs of my thighs. I never was one for any sort of touch. I walk quickly, looking around curiously as I soon see a sign, welcoming people into the city.

BIENVENUE A
WELCOME TO

VANCOUVER

And there it is, the city itself. It's all shiny, an odd sight in the daylight. I awe a bit over it, looking at all of the oddly shaped buildings in the distance. It probably looks cool at night, with all the lights. So there I go, walking into the strange new city. One I may now call a home of sorts for a while.

•••

As I'm walking around the city, my reddish orange, such a colour it could pass for flames, hair falls in front of my eyes as I'm pushed into and slammed against an alley wall. The breath is knocked out of my lungs as I'm pinned to the wall by my throat. I reach to scratch at the perpetrators hands and kick at them. Choking out small gasps as they hold me there, taking in my appearance. I'm rather tall and oddly set, with wide hips and a small bust. I could pass as a ghost or other pale being and my multi coloured eyes could deem me as weird. The only thing that keeps anyone from thinking that is the pink flush that stain my cheeks, nose, and joints from my horrid genetics. Even darker freckles dot my cheeks and nose, as well as the rest of my body, giving me a little bit of colour as well.