Realm Crossed...Crush? {Bowie}

[Azrael]

CENTRAL PARK
NEW YORK, NY
UNITED STATES OF 'MURICA
MARCH 6TH, 2012
1:00PM

Earth. North America. The air was clear, not as clear as home, but it was always clearer than she expected it to be when she came to visit. Perhaps it was because she could sense and smell all the fresh lives that were in their ever flowing river towards meeting her or one of her brethren. Some were hurrying towards life within the wombs or labs across the world, and Azrael could sense them. Or, well, most of them. Certainly those that were within the sprawling city spanned across the islands that she found herself in this particularly glorious afternoon. It was the city that never slept, its population ever moving and usually up to some sort of crazy hours of the morning (if they went to bed at all). Humans never ceased to amaze her or amuse her with their antics.

She was sporting a pleated skirt of red, white, and black patterning with black tights wrapped about her legs for warmth. Black combat boots that clung about her calves almost up to her knees as if to add to the look, only adding to the punkish feel of it. On her upper half she wore an artfully cut up black shirt with a pattern on it that fell over one shoulder. Her short black hair was smoothed down and straight as opposed to poofing up slightly, just the slightest make-up applied to her pretty asiatic features. A black leather jacket rested over her shoulders, perfectly painted nails currently wrapped about a cigarette whose smoke trailed slowly up towards the leafy canopy above her. Her pierced ears reflected the sunlight in numerous beams since, well, she had a lot of piercings.

For the moment she was listening to the chatter of people about her, watching those that strode past. The groups that rode their bikes, families enjoying a nice day together as a proper spring drew ever closer. They had no idea of the events that were transpiring in other realms of their world, and so few would truly believe it if they had been told. Nothing was remarkable about her as she sat there on a park bench near the ash tray to her right, dark eyes almost seeming to absorb light despite the gleam that reflected off of their surface. For the moment, she had opted to spend some time amidst the mortals rather than listening to anymore of the obnoxious chatter regarding what would happen once they invaded Hell. They were ferrier of spirits, not troops to fight on the front lines. Akrasiel would tell them what to do whenever the time came to know, and right now that wasn't the time. Besides, so few remembered to remind themselves of the lives that they never would have and what it was like to lose such a thing. Perhaps she was much too human-like to be a proper angel anymore, but she hadn't infringed upon any major rules, and no one could deny her results or loyalty. Shrugging lightly, she sighed and took a deep puff on that cancer stick, tapping the excess ash into the tray beside her. No…. today was a good day so far.

[David Bowie]

Screw the penthouse. Screw the drapes. Screw the open window. Screw the wind. And screw the glass of Blackberry Merlot on the windowsill, above his bed. Screw. Everything. If it hadn't been for the wind blowing through his open window, pushing his drapes into his wineglass, his favorite shirt wouldn't have been stained and neither would his pristine- and snowy white- carpet. Ahh, the pains of celebrity life. true first world problem! Namely in that he had his cleaning staff removing all the stains, and was waiting, namely by walking around, down the sidewalk. Ahhh, sighhh... He needed to calm his nerves. And so he did; from his pocket, he withdrew a pack of cigarettes, rather nicely packaged. They were of a slightly more expensive brand than others of similarity, imported from Spain or Italy or somewhere. He didn't know, nor did he care, as he searched his pocket for a light.

Hmm... Zippo? Absent. Matches? Negatory. Cheap dollar store lighters? Puh-lease, as if he'd lower himself to such standards!... Not one of the six he shamefully owned were there... It then occurred to him they were all in his shirt pocket. On the shirt that was being washed... Ah, the pains of life. When do they cease? Though, on the topic of ceasing, little did he know, and thus was incapable of comprehending the irony of such, the woman in Central Park, as he strode closer, was of a caste of angelic beings whose sole DUTY was to cease that which pains life; life itself, that is. She was, unbeknownst to the undying one, a death angel of sorts. But of course, to his eyes, she was a smoker who probably had a light on her.

"Hello, hello, milady." He gave a charming, but utterly falsified, smile, warm in appearance. Charisma was a well-practiced art and his act was one which had managed to fool people since the 60s and 70s. Of course, it wouldn't do to let the little public in on his more eccentric personality, would it? Not at all! "I'm David Bowie, you may or may not have heard of me before." She likely had, or, really, in this day and time, maybe not. Ah, as well, could I trouble you for a light, miss? I must have left home without my lighter, but I'm in need of something to calm my nerves." He gave a small sigh before resuming that calm and friendly smile, watching her with mismatched eyes that just radiated a pleasant mood, despite his apparently stressful conundrum. "By the by, what would I have the privilege to call you?~" And of course, when in such a plasant mood, why not make a new friend?

[Azrael]

Hm? What was that? Something was different…. approaching… Not quite mortal but not quite--"Hello, hello, milady." Azrael straightened up slightly as a shadow fell over her form, raising those dark eyes to stare at the brightly colored haired man that stood before her with a cigarette dangling between his lips. She blinked twice and took another draw, smoke flowing smoothly out of the side of her mouth away from him. There was a hint of cherry in that smoke, but not the full acridness of cigarettes. [color=green]"I'm David Bowie, you may or may not have heard of me before."[/collor] A single eyebrow raised as a smirk rose onto her lips, she had remembered seeing this one fly by in one of…. something. Shit. Somewhere. Had she…. Had they ever performed together? "Oh I have. But you could also be a bullshitter." She pointed out with a grin, her cigarette waving near him as she brought it back to her lips and sat back, legs crossing. "Though I doubt it."

No, it was definitely him. She recognized those features, and the charm…. It fit together well enough for her to believe it. Besides, she was always aware of those that had somehow extended their time far beyond what it should have been. Not to mention…. that odd sense that had grown in her senses was now blazingly more obvious as he stood there before her. Ah, as well, could I trouble you for a light, miss? I must have left home without my lighter, but I'm in need of something to calm my nerves." He needed a lighter? Azrael chuckled as she pulled out her zippo and flicked it once, offering that flame up to him as her eyes stared into his. The question was whether or not he realized that she was one of those beings that his friend would have to fight against in the coming weeks. Not likely so far. She wasn't particularly complaining, however, for a fight was not exactly what she was looking for right now. A nice relaxing day in the park amidst the mortals was all she wanted. If she found a Ritualist along the way, she wasn't going to strike them down like Akrasiel might. "By the by, what would I have the privilege to call you?~"

Oh, right. Holding out her hand, her bracelets tinkled together as those perfectly painted black nails reached out into the air for a friendly handshake. "Anna. Anna Tsuchiya. A pleasure." She patted the bench beside her as she took another puff before tapping out some of her ash, deciding to take this opportunity to chat with a being such as him. While she couldn't be happy with his extended longevity, she was still herself. And right now…. she didn't particularly want to be on duty. "You in NY for a show? Should I be trying to get tickets?" She chuckled and waved a hand, "I'm just kidding. I'm only here for the day anyways." Which wasn't false. She wasn't planning on taking an extended leave right now. She couldn't afford to. There were far too many spirits, and while she did have numerous brethren, they each had their particular shifts and amounts for each shift. "I'll admit the chance I get to meet anyone as famous as you in the field of music is rather rare." She might as well bring up her band that she floated in and out of. Right now she was just debating if she wanted to reveal to him about who she REALLY was beneath the punk child in front of him.

[David Bowie]

It really did amuse the rockstar as she noted that he could very well be a mere poser, an impersonator of himself. Why, he felt a little honored, really; Michael Jackson and Elvis Presley  got look-alikes, why couldn't he? Though of course, mere mimicry could never even come close to the genuine article. He gave a small chuckle as she determined that he was, indeed, really who he said he was. And for what reason would she have ever thought otherwise? "Well, it's good to see you're perceptive. Not many impersonators would be able to pull off this look, you know." As he spoke, she retrieved for him a Zippo lighter (he found that his smokes always did have a better taste when lit with a Zippo) and sparked the flame. He leaned down such that the flame could catch onto his cigarette, and took a long and slow draw of it, with a sigh. "Much better, thank you."

As he smoked, however, deep within the rockstar's mind, a sudden spike of maddening cacophony erupted; the souls of Legion within himself were screaming at him that he should leave where he stood, turn and go the other way, avoid this person at all costs. In response, he placed a hand to his temple, slightly wincing. "Hmm... Never have gotten a migraine from smoking before. Peculiar." Under-reaction? Accomplished. As she introduced herself, she offered David a seat, and he took it, gracefully seating himself. Though really, everything he did was graceful; every movement was calculated and precise, to give a sometimes eerie image of perfection. For he, and he alone, was a perfect being.

He accepted her handshake with a smile, though he did find that his hand stung ever so slightly afterwards. Also peculiar. "The pleasure is quite mutual, Miss Tsuchiya. Or would you prefer Anna?" Ahh, the social politics of referring to one by name. Should you use the more formal title and surname? Or would the informal first name be more proper? So much to think about for such an insignificant detail of conversation.

Though the more interesting parts of conversing came about when two people began asking questions about one another. For all conversations are, is a way to interview one another, or have someone to agree with your opinion. An interrogation and an ego boost, every time you're bored on a Trans-Atlantic, haha! "A show? Well, I usually perform whenever and wherever I find the time and a place, but I actually live here; little known fact, as it is." Psh, any TRUE fan would know he was here for no other purpose but to hang out in his penthouse and get wasted! "But on similar note, what reasoning may there be for your day in the city of lights?~" And so the tables turned!

And then of course, came a comment after her presumed answer to his question; tables turn once more, nobody knows how many times the table can be flipped without somebody putting it upside-right once more and slapping the two conversing people on the wrists! All metaphorically, anyways. "Well, true enough; it isn't really every day that we celebrities venture out from our shadowy hiding places to- Heavens forbid!- greet the mere mortals around us~ Hahaha, jest aside, I take it you too are into the musical arts? Do elaborate~"

[Azrael]

"Well, it's good to see you're perceptive. Not many impersonators would be able to pull off this look, you know." Heh. That was true. The only places you might catch a cosplayer of David Bowie would be at anime conventions nowadays. You rarely saw any others at other events. Perhaps Steampunk. She had been meaning to examine those venues more, she just hadn't had a chance to as of late. "I suppose so." She mused, merely shaking her head at his thanks. "Rule five of smokers guild: always have a light to share." Where had she heard that little line before? She thought it was some college campus before…. oh who knew at this point. Either way, she noticed the hand that moved towards his head and raised a singular eyebrow. Was he having some sort of issue?

"Hmm... Never have gotten a migraine from smoking before. Peculiar." Hmm… Azrael couldn't help but wonder at the statement, but merely appeared only impassively concerned (as if that were really effective considering the whole impassive part). "You have anything except cir's today?" She asked for it woulda been a genuine question. Always consider what you consume before smoking for you never knew how things might mix. Like alcohol. She felt the spark that passed between them from the handshake, but she didn't react to it. She knew that them touching would be painful for really only one of them, and there was no doubting that he felt it. The question was, whether or not he would realize what that meant or not. "The pleasure is quite mutual, Miss Tsuchiya. Or would you prefer Anna?" She shrugged lightly at that, the breeze ruffling her short hair as she took another puff.

The smoke drifted by as she turned her head to look at a group of people that walked by. "Eh…. Anna's fine. Never been big on formalities." What use had she for it in the mortal realm at the moment? None at all. She rarely needed to talk to any of her targets and any of those that knew her already knew one of her numerous names. Some kept it simple, others went for her realm name. Either way they all referred to her, so why get flowery? "A show? Well, I usually perform whenever and wherever I find the time and a place, but I actually live here; little known fact, as it is." Oh? Azrael raised a single eyebrow as she slowly turned to look at him again, her expression of one being 'don't kid a kidder' or something similar to it. Rockstars never really stuck in one place, and David Bowie was no exception to this rule.

"But on similar note, what reasoning may there be for your day in the city of lights?~" Turn-about was fair play. Or was it foreplay? She'd heard it be both ways before. "Visiting. Had some faces to see that I hadn't for a while." Also not entirely untrue. If there was something Azrael excelled at, it was keeping the half-truths and vagueness vibrant and relevant. "Well, true enough; it isn't really every day that we celebrities venture out from our shadowy hiding places to- Heavens forbid!- greet the mere mortals around us~ Hahaha, jest aside, I take it you too are into the musical arts? Do elaborate~" There was more to his statement than he realized, and so she only chuckled softly to herself as she sat up a bit and took a good draw on her cancer stick. "I guess I just don't make a huge deal of it when I see it heh." She mused quietly before continuing, "But you're right, I am. I sing and play guitar. Though my band hasn't been together for years now."

A smirk began to creep along her lips as she remembered the last performance they had given. That was back when people had still been alive. Ah a sad day that was… "We were much bigger in Japan than anywhere else. Sadly not quite as international as others." She pointedly glanced over to him with a slight nod of her head.

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