#//my brain itch tellin me music is a loophole to get away with saying questionable things lolol

[originemesis]

@timelostobserver xxx

"You'll never be the same as Us." Biting words...

A real Archangel. What he was, what his Brothers were. Adam was a stale puff of smoke compared to the actual power him and his Brother's held. Even while Fallen, one might have simply said that it was where Death itself was meant to be.

In the darkness, in the shadows, waiting.. But always being the end.

"A title does not acquit to ones actual act of being. You're a candle speaking to a wildfire." Azrael hid most of his power. They ALL did.. To make sure Angels below them would not utterly fear just what horrors rested under their kind visages. They were not 'people'.. No.. He and his brothers were Concepts given form.

They were never human, never would be human. Always out of reach, even for Father's precious little 'experiment'.

Seeing that brief crack in bravado though, tells him all he needs to know though. And that smug, thin smirk spreads over the Grim Reaper's face.

"You're little more than an experiment that went wrong. If Father was to 'reset' it all? My brothers and I will remain, and you? A fleeting, easily forgotten memory." A brow raised.

"Indeed 'In the End'.. I'm always there. Waiting.. And everything 'Ends' eventually... Though perhaps you should be singing another tune, to hide further.. As they say.. 'Don't Fear the Reaper'.. Hmm?"

If he's bored of the conversation's insured flippancy, he's only made it incredibly obvious with his insistence on floating about aimlessly, hitting an occasional shriek of an electrized note on the higher end of strummed strings to interject points of pause in the otherwise unstimulating droning.

"You would think that, huh ~ edgelord?" He tuts, tasking himself briefly with the idle twirl of a talon near the base of a horn as if he currently had the means to tangle the locks of brown beneath. A new face fashioned from chrome didn't exactly sync with the muscles beneath, and from the the stinging remarks he's so accustomed to making, it stands to suspect the syncing attempts on his end are as comfortable as an overcrowded beehive.

"Guess no one ever told you the whole spiel on angels and beasts. Or maybe your selective memory activates to spare your fee fees?" A shrug steers a slow spin of a sit up mid-air, wings notably flapless as if gravity was an optional concept. "Why that one clown couldn't accept man as his superior. And you'd think someone that low to the ground wouldn't mind kissing it...oh well!" A nasty grin is nuanced at this point, so a mocking version of placation tugs at the illumination of a lipline.

"Don't think I asked you to share your wet dreams, bruh." Dreams because they'd never happen. There was too much in place and much more to come already foretold. None of which affected him in his current position, really. Not that it isn't funny watching pit-boy reach. "Whatever gets you off, I guess ~ "

Another jarring twang followed by a series of strobe-like strums serves as the icing on a cake yet to be constructed before it's even baked.

"When standing in-front of my solar eclipse

My name it is stitched to your lips, so, you see

I won't bow to the will of a mortal, feeble and normal

You wanna kill me? I'm eternal!

Immortal."