#fun fact! Simon was not originally Sybil's name but it turns out I couldn't decide in his original pitch so

[basket-of-cats-and-witches]

A Bar Called Nephilim

Another set of people that I'm quietly feral abt, although Angel's personality is newer than Sybil's.

Mac and Booker are my feel-good hurt/comfort duo.

These two are my death besties.

Actually I intended for Angel to have a much warmer, sweeter personality than this, but he said "Hey no. I'm full of cold viciousness. Hell hath no fury and all that."

Anyway, enough rambling. Have my Considerably Worse Lancer Duo, because I had brainrot at 3:30am.

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“Someone came back.”

Sybil took a drag of his cigarette, watching it wind through the air as he glanced over.

“You sound surprised, Angel.”

A derisive snort was his response, gold tipped nails wrapping around his shoulders like knives.

“Hardly. I'm the only one who knows you from before, after all. Your only friend.”

He took another drag before putting it out, setting the cigarette aside.

“My only friend died when he got caught sleeping with the boss’s son, last I recall.”

The claws detached from his shoulder, stilettos clicking across the wooden floors.

A lazy gesture to the bartender had a glass placed on the oak bar within moments, its contents swirling in the low light.

“There's no one here. Expecting me?”

Angel picked up the glass, examining the liquid before swallowing. He leaned back against the bar with a sinful grace, golden hair spilling across its surface.

He'd once been the most beautiful companion in the universe. Attached to someone of value in the KTB.

Now, he ran a bar in a spaceport in the middle of nowhere, and his acid scars kept all but the most persistent away.

Sybil being one of them.

“You know I know everything that goes on in my port,” Angel replied lazily. “The moment you and that thing of yours-”

The chair creaked as Sybil’s hands tightened on the armrest.

Angel smiled toothily. “Sorry. Your daughter. The moment you two hit the landing pad, I cleared my schedule. And here we are.” They gestured to the room. It was far classier than any backwater spaceport had any right to be, the entire place done in gorgeous dark woods and sinfully deep reds.

Low lit for privacy, of course.

Sybil stared unflinchingly at him. “Then you know what I need.”

Angel snapped his fingers. The bartender leaned over the bar, gold nails grabbing their jaw and pulling them close.

He never broke eye contact, even as his lips moved quietly.

The bartender nodded, taking the empty glass and leaving.

Arching a brow, Sybil leaned back in his chair. “The two of us alone? Whatever will your people think?”

“Nothing, if they want their tongues still attached. I've started a board by the port access.” Angel walked closer, a lioness stalking his prey.

Sybil grimaced. “I saw. It's foul-smelling.” He spread his legs, making room for the other man to plop neatly into his lap.

“Good. That means it'll be more noticable.” Angel fiddled with his tie, undoing it and redoing a complex knot against Sybil's throat.

Black eyes with a golden halo flicked between their work and his face.

“The job’s simple, this time,” Angel replied airily. “Cleanup for Harrison. Rats chewing the wires in the server rooms, or so I hear.”

Sybil swallowed against the knot. It was tighter, pressing into his adam’s apple firmly.

A trinity knot. Far too fancy for someone of his status.

“And the pay?”

Angel smoothed the tie flat, patting it affectionately. “I wouldn't skimp you. Harrison’s paying a pretty penny. They expect discretion, though. As always.” He jumped up, tapping a device on his wrist.

Sybil’s pocket dinged, and he sighed. “Break time's over, then. Horizon and I will get on it.” Slowly he rose, his joints cracking as he stretched. A loud pop made him sigh pleasantly.

“Leaving already?” Angel teased. “People will think I'm easy.”

With a snort, Sybil grabbed his cigarette. “Or that I'm quick. Not like I give a shit. Thanks for the job, Azrael.”

Angel grinned. “Anytime, Simon. Come play again soon. I miss having someone who can keep up with me in a fight.”

Sybil waved lazily, grabbing his pack by the door.

As he stepped out into the yellowing fluorescent lights of the spaceport, he glanced back.

“Don't get up to too much trouble.”

He closed the door on cold, predatory eyes.