Oblivion ( Private RP )

( EEEEEEHEHEHHEE ANS I LOVE THAT POST TOOOOOO AAAAA I LOVE HERRR )


It was early morning in Ottowa, Canada. The bright sun seemed to glisten off of the mystical foggy-gray hair that belonged to the gray-winged angel, known once as Fhetakiel, but now prefers to go by a different name. One that would help distract him from his once angelic life in the Silver City:

Finn.

Finn flared his nostrils and closed his sparkling grayish-blue pale eyes to breath in a crisp breath of some of the freshest air in the world.

As he exhaled, his throat let out a small, contented sigh, and trotted off into the woods behind the Motel he had persuaded the receptionist to keep for free.

The Motel wasn’t a sight to behold at all, but it was to Finn. its cracked, badly painted walls with embracing ivy had Finn captivated. He loved to see the creations Humanity could create.

But for now, its off into the woods.

He trotted a good few meters in before he lifted up a rooted tree stump with ease, the woodsy floor rustling green leaves and making splintering sounds as well.

Finn gasped in pure joy.

A caterpillar.

He gently picked it up and cradled the tiny worm in his cupped hands. Its soft segmented body was a bright lime green flipping to a brighter yellow each segment.

It pulsated forwards in his hands, slowly moving itself along.

Finn was astonished and sat on the ground, storystyle.

He then began to profusely compliment the insect on its beauty; Finn’s voice was bright, yet calm, soft and flowy. Finn eventually went on random tangets that were completely off-topic, like how he doesnt understand what a triangle is. Finn suddenly found himself laying on his back staring up through the leaves into the bright blue sky that shone down upon him.

Apparently it had been at least an hour of talking to the caterpillar, as it was gone. Probably off to find a leaf to munch on. Finn’s face fell a bit as he then got up, wiped dirt and leaves off that were stuck to his pants, pulled up his hood and walked out of the woods in the direction of the city.

If a caterpillar doesnt want to listen to him, maybe a human would…

He un-hid and spread his wings almost like magic; like his hair, his wings were glistening that beautiful foggy-gray shade, and his wings were pretty big in comparison to him. He was 6ft after all.

He flapped them once and seemingly out of thin air, he disappeared into the sky, flying towards the city.

Yes, Angels are pretty damn fast.

EEEEE DE BEBEEEEE)

Finn had flown his way to the city. It was decently sized, at least a 2/3s smaller than New York. People, Humans were everywhere. Finn gave a small grin to himself as he landed in an allyway in a quick yet quiet motion.

His wings retracted into his back, and he put his hands into his black leather coat pockets, and he began to walk the city streets.

People wouldnt make eye contact with him at all. He crossed a little girl with shining eyes with her mother. She looked up at him and waves at him with a bright smile on her face, Finn smiled warmly and gave a little wave back, until her mother pulled her away, giving a sort-of disgusted loom at Finn before leaving quickly.

He was hurt. He sauntered into the nearest place which had happened to be a tavern. There were some big burly men with tattoos talking in deep American accents on stools by the bar. They had come for the booze, as it wasnt legal in the US state they were from. Finn kept his head down and kept walking into the tavern sitting in the corner on a little stool by a sit-down table, made of foresty green polished wood.

He was observing the men at the bar, barkily laughing with their golden teeth that glinted in the lamplight. He found himself zoning out eventually, to which one of the men with golden yellow hair did not appreciate.

“Ay, punk, what you lookin at huh?”

And suddenly Finn blinked to find all four men staring right at him with a snarling expression on their faces.

“Oh- i-im sorry- I was just-“

“Just what?!”

The golden-haired man got up and took a few steps towards him, now towering over him, followed by the rest of his buddies. He was in their shadow now, trapped in the corner. His heart dropped and was speechlessly frightened. He stay silent with wide, fear-filled eyes.

He even stayed silent as they mercilessly beat him to a pulp, punching him in the stomach, beating his face, and everywhere else they could get their hands on. They left with bloodied fists, leaving a poor Finn, beaten and bruised on the floor in the corner of that little tavern.

He groaned and just lay there. He lay and slept there for now, Just a few minutes of rest…

Nobody likes me… why? I’ve done nothing… I’m just trying to be friendly…

A single tear falls from his cheek as he closes his eyes, resting for a very short amount of time before he continues his already-eventful day.

EEEEEEHEHEHEHE AND OOOOP SPOOPY BEBE EEE)

A few minutes had passed, and he sat up. A shining black eye as well as bruises galore. He shook himself off, seeming to magically clear up the bruisings, the shiner and the tiny cuts. Angels can be temporarily harmed by non-angelic weaponry, otherwise cannot be physicaly injured unless being struck by angelic weaponry.

The bartender had watched this happen, and frankly was in shock. He was in such a state of shock that he had frozen while pouring a drink, the drink in question currently overflowing on the table. Finn saw, eyes widened, gave an awkward smile and a wave before leaving out through the door.

Why does everybody hate me…

A single tear fell again from his eye and trickled down his cheek, then suddenly causing the sky to quickly darken, and cry with him. Finn pulled up his faded blue hood from underneath his leather coat as it started to rain moderatly.

He hated this.

He stared down at the ground as he saw little raindroplets slowly cover the once-dry concrete sidewalks. He passed alleyway by alleyway, one of which’s storm drain was leaking water onto some cardboard boxes, written on them said ‘ADOPT ME’. There was nothing in the boxes.

He knew what that meant. His eyes welled even more, but refused to let another tear fall.

He kept walking, until he crossed an alleyway with small double-voiced high pitched whining was coming from. He perked up and turned and slowly started walking into the alley. The whining getting louder and louder as he got closer.

Eventually he saw a dim orange glow coming from inside a small paper bag. Finn knelt down to fully see a small little half-furry half-leathery little ball of dark brown, dark gray, and glowing orange. It was curled up in a little ball, whining and shivering, cold from the rain. It resembled an alien-like hound, with fire seeminky built inside of it as there were streaks around its body and in its four eyes purely of pure glowing orange flame. Its teeth were a part of the dark-gray color and was connected to its skull directly, on the outside of its mouth. It had eight large fangs, four main sets, the other four smaller sets behind the larger ones. Its mouth fit together like a puzzle piece. Patches of brown-burnt fur were splotched on there. It was around a foot tall. Its ears were average-small sized as an adult, but as of now they were fairly large and pointy, and it did not have a tail at all. This thing looked like it was made from fire. Like it was born to fight, to guard, almost.

It was a baby Hellhound.

Finn knew it was a hellhound immediatly from smell, but he didnt care. It was sad, like he was. He reached up next to it inside the bag.

“Its okay… I wont hurt you little guy…”

The creature whined and sniffed his hands once, before realizing this was a kind gesture. The hound made an effort to crawl into his hands, in which Finn helped it along. He pulled it out of the bag and up to him.

“Look at youuu! Awh youre so adorable and perfect! Im gonna keep you forever!”

He brought the baby hound into a warm embrace which finalized the hounds bond to him. It closed its eyes and gave a happy double-voiced rumble. Hounds naturally have double-voiced vocalizations, and they only truely bond with one companion. This one in particular, was now Finn’s.

A few drops of rainwater fell onto the hounds glowing orange spots ehich made a sizzling sound, which Finn found quite amusing.

He perked up:

“OH! You must need a name dont you?! Come, I will name you at home, my precious little one.”

He spread his wings and quickly flew off with his newfound friend, back to the Motel.