This is a Private RP between Ruemarion21 and Ilickmemes
If you are not us do not post here please! Feel free to read and enjoy.

:Name:
Isaiah Imella

:Sex:
Male

:Race:
High Angel

:Age:
34 in angel years; looks about 25 ( actually about 200+ )

:Height:
6’3”

:Hair:
Human form- Light brown, shoulder length, curved slightly inwards; Angel form- Mottled brown, light brown and grey, chest length in back, waist length in front, lots of small braids, slightly curved/wavy; fancy feathers and cream-gold ribbons woven in here and there

:Eyes:
Human form- Stormy grey; Angel form- Blind white

:Skin:
Pale, but healthy; no blemishes…almost too perfect

:Build:
Human form- Slim and lithe, with lean muscle; Angel form- Muscle more obvious, though still lithe and lean; from the waist down is covered in feathers, ending in large, feathered bird feet; elbows down is feathered and fingers end in three inch talons; six huge wings on his back, sprouted from the shoulder blades; all feathers are mottled brown, light brown and grey

:Clothes:
Human form- Normal human clothes; Angel form- Elaborate loincloth, waist cincher, belt and chest holster, all made with heavy, light cream colored leather; no shoes; thin cream-gold and ivory chains wound around his arms, wings, legs and torso that appear to move randomly

:Accessories:
Human form- Cream-gold and ivory necklace with a cross on it; Angel form- Large broadsword carried on his back with the chest holster between his wings; two much thinner, lighter swords holstered on the waist cinch; anklets, bracelets and choker, all made of solid cream-gold; braided circlet of cream gold and ivory

:Powers/Skills:
Human form- Able to calm people easily, and affect other emotions, superior senses, strength and speed; Angel form- Flight, extremely honed senses, strength and speed, transportation magic, other magic for combat and other uses

Alexander Margil
Species: Demon/Shifter
Age:430….maybe older, he quit counting after his 3 century, Turned at around age 25
Sexual Preference: None
Languages: English, Spanish, French, German….etc (he’s been around for a while)
Birthplace: Madrid, Spain
Appearance as Human : 6’3”, Thin Muscular Build, Red Blond Hair, brown/tanned skin, Deep green Eyes.
Appearance as Demon/Monster: 7'5" plus a 5.5' tail. His face is panther like with long black fangs. A thick scaly hide with a green and brown pattern covers his skin and is tougher than steel. His claws are long and black with a reticular talon on each foot. Think the Kogatha meets a black panther.
Personality/Background: He was born to Don and Doña Santos Margil. His family was very rich and Alexander wanted for nothing. The boy squandered his wealth as he grew. During his teenage years Alexander had a series of torrid affairs. One such affair was with a young Duchess who was betrothed to another man. In order to save herself from ridicule and shame she claimed that Alexander raped her.

To prevent the execution of his son his father exiled him to his Country estate in the free world. Unknown to his family the America’s held much more danger for the boy than if he had stayed in Madrid. The native population had overrun his families complex and were using it to lead a rebellion. Alexander was captured the moment he entered the estate.

Alexander was then taken as a sacrifice to their dark god. Instead of killing the boy though the process changed him into a Monster. He became a brainless beast that the natives used to hunt down and kill the Europeans invading their land.
He had no memory of his past only the taste of the sweet blood and the echoes of their screams. None of the natives showed the beast any kindness, accept one. The young male native, Rapu..

During his days as the beast he would revert back to his human form. Rapu would feed and wash the beast. Those were the only moments of piece Alexander knew, and even with his mind twisted and torn he fell in love with the young Rapu. Their love was due to fail though, as Rapu was destined to be sacrificed to their Gods. The chief of the tribe, knew of the love between the young male and the beast and ordered Rapu’s sacrifice during the Summer Solctice.

They made Alexander watch as they slit his throat and tore out his heart. The howls that echoed through the forest that nice still haunt the people of the amazon. Alexander slaughtered the whole tribe and it is sad that his howls can be heard every solstice.

---------- Post added 06-26-2012 at 05:18 PM ----------

The sun rose over the small river town of Morretes, Brazil. It was a sleepy quiet town full of deeply tanned locals and notorious for its rich history and its large sugar cane fields. Tourist rarely made there way to the sleepy town, but when they did, the gringos left drunk and happy.

It was also home to one Alexander Margil. Alexander was notorious for being the best tracker and guide in South America, but extremely difficult to work with. Rich tourists and anthropologists from all over the world came to Morretes to try and buy his services. He would often refuse, unless the job interested him, which they rarely did. He’d usually glare at the gringos, sip his beer and go back to whatever memories had driven him to drink.

The locals knew him as el maldito protetor, the damned protector, a man without a past and no hope for the future. Most of them treated him with respect, but gave the man a wide berth and Alexander did the same. Living on the edge of town the tracker only came into the small town to get a few supplies and left the locals to their business.

Today was one of those days. Alex had driven into town as the sun rose, rusty but reliable jeep growling and groaning like a wounded animal. He pulled in front of market/bar/hotel and turned off the clanking engine. Like all the other buildings in the town the store was a white adobe with a heavy wooden door. It was flung open to cooler morning air.

The tall man pulled his hat further down against the rising sun and headed into the store, his boots thumping against the hardwood floor. “Bom dia, Senore Margil.”

Behind the counter a small white head of hair peeked out, followed by a large pair of owlish eyes and a wrinkled tan face. Alex nodded his head tipping his hat to the older woman. “Senhora Silva, bom dia. I came for my normal order.”

“Sim, sim. I have everything here.” The little anchient woman came around the counter. The woman couldn’t have been more than 4’tall and younger than 100. Still she walked without a falter to her step. She moved to the back, Alex quick on her heals.

She stopped and pointed to three large crates. “There you go. I’ll leave you to load them. My lazy son should be up soon to help you. EUARDO!!! CLIENTE!” Ms. Silva made her way back around the counter and up onto a stool to look over her cash box, “89 euros.”

Alexander handed her the money, noting he needed to take a job soon. Ms. Silva patted his hand as she returned the change, then turned to grab a cold drink for the tracker. He reached for another euro, she stopped him, “On the house. How are you today moco? It’s been almost three months since you’ve been in.”

“Good, just keeping to myself.” He popped the top for his beer and the older woman’s with a flick of his wrist. She smiled taking the cool drink. “And you?”

“Good, just keeping my lazy children in line.” She turned and yelled up the stairway again. “EDUARDO! Lazy child. You think at 50 he’d have better work ethic.” Alex chuckled and finished his beer quickly, as Ms. Silva made her way up the stairs, screaming in Portuguese at her son. He didn’t want to stay in the village much longer. Ms. Silva was one of a few people in the village that even spoke to him, many too superstitious to talk with him.

He picked up the first of his crates and headed to his jeep, slipping it into the back. He came back into the store nearly running into the less than sober Eduardo Silva. The man had one of hand against the wall as he wobbled over to Alex’s crates. “I’ve got it.”

Alex moved around the man picking up the last of the crates. As he was about out the door he heard the drunken man curse, “Aberração idiota.”

The tracker suppressed a growl putting the last of the boxes in jeep. Suddenly there was a whimper and another curse as Ms. Silva smacked her son with a dries cane of sugar, cursing about foolish drunks and having respect. Alex smiled at the older woman ignoring her son before retreating to his jeep and back to his house.
---------
After half an hours drive Alex arrived at his small house. It was one of the only things that he cherished in the world; a labor of love that had taken thirty years to finish. He parked the jeep outside, and pulled his supplies onto the porch, giving him room to sort them.

He pulled off his shirt and hat against the building heat and grabbed a corner with a hand letting his nails elongate and pop off the top of the crate. Alex grunted as his hand’s bone structure returned to normal and he started to unload his supplies.


Alex's house

In the deepest black of the longest hour of the night, the hour before dawn, Isaiah Imella coughed and nearly fell from the sky, unable to catch his breath after flying for hours over the steaming hot forests and fields of Brazil. Though quite aware that dawn was not far off, the man could not justify taking a break, as he was already dangerously near his deadline with nothing to show for his search. The temple that had been described to him either didn’t exist or was hidden with some sort of magic, for no matter how hard and long he searched through the night, Isaiah could not find it. As a last ditch effort to find the thing when all other guides and maps had failed, Isaiah had taken wing, throwing caution to the wind. He didn’t care who saw him now; he needed to cover as much ground as possible as quickly as possible, and flying was the way to do it.

By now, the normally shining feathers of Isaiah’s six wings were dull and slick with sweat and condensation. His lean back muscles were taut with the strain of keeping the man airborne, and his fingers, which ended in three inch talons, were clenching and unclenching awkwardly. His discomfort finally peaked when the first rays of golden sunlight threw themselves over the horizon and directly into his white eyes, causing him to backpedal several flaps and hiss quietly. He hung in midair for a few seconds, savoring the feeling of his eyes being closed; he hadn’t slept in over a day, and it was beginning to get to him.

Still, Isaiah continued flying, hoping this new day would be the last he had to spend in the skies over Brazil. It was a lovely country, but after a while of seeing mile after mile of what appeared to be the same forests and fields stretched out before him, Isaiah was quite ready to return to his home in London. He had only a week left before his deadline, and was seemingly no closer to finding the temple than when he had first arrived.

Only a few minutes later, the strain Isaiah was putting on his body became too much for him to handle. He locked his wings in place and began to float to the ground, but didn’t quite make it; he passed out about one hundred feet above the earth and fell limply the rest of the way, crashing, in all his angelic glory, into the thick forest below. Several birds rocketed away from the trees screeching and warbling warnings as Isaiah settled into the underbrush, covered in scratches and bruises from his fall. He came to for a few seconds as he lay there, hoping no one would find him…he thought he smelled human near, but he couldn’t be sure. After making his observation, the corners of Isaiah’s lips curled slightly into a rueful smile as he drifted once again into the blissful realms of unconsciousness.

Alex had finished putting away his supplies and savored the feeling of a job well done. Even after more than four centuries on this earth he still enjoyed hard work. Stretching and popping his back he sauntered over to his kitchen and popped open a coke. He could drink the water without consequences, but most of the water tasted foul. He downed the rest of the cool drink grabbing his tools and heading out to his jeep.

The old clunker had served him well over the last 20 years, but she was getting ready to give up Alex patted the old vehicle. “Alright ole girl let’s see what we can do under the hood.” He lifted the hood and slipped under it. The engine looked ok, but modern technology was tricky like that. Modern technology still baffled the shifter. It had taken him years to quit growling every time a car drove past and he still refused to buy a phone, there wasn’t anyone he wanted to talk to anyways…not anymore. He frowned at the thought, trying to brush it off.

Sighing he focused on the task at hand. After a few minutes Alex found that he couldn’t. There was something though, a nagging eating at the back of his mind. Something was going to happen…soon. He leaned back from the jeep and took a deep breath of air. The normal scents of the jungle filled his lungs; big cats, birds incest decaying roots and plants. A spicy foreign metallic sent hung on the wind, an inhuman scent. Interesting… He turned back to his work puzzling over this latest development. Undoing the head of the radiator he noted the rust build up and was about to start clean it when it hit.

Suddenly a loud crack wrenched through the air. Alex hit the back of his head on the hood of his car as he jerked up at the noise. “Filho da puta!” He rubbed the back of his head moving out from under the hood. The birds and animals were screaming and moving away from the source of the sound. Setting down his tools and made his way to the sound. There wasn’t much that could hurt him and the safety of the village depended on him.

He raced into the jungle his eyes and hand’s slowly changing. Alex’s eyes turned a bright yellow, the pupil’s changing into slits; his hands elongated long black Talon’s hanging off them. He let the beast take the reigns, the air rich with the stink of whatever had landed in his jungle. Alex ran through the greens growling, teeth elongating. He tore through thick vegetation then suddenly stopped.

A small clearing had formed from the being crashing into earth. Trees had dirt had been thrown up into the air. Alex was stunned at the destruction more than even he had done in his full bestial form. He stopped suddenly at the edge of the crater. In the bottom of the crater was a figure, a humanoid figure. The shock made Alex drop his change, turning him human again. “What the hell?”

Isaiah’s eyes snapped open and his nostrils flared as a thick and musty, but still sharp smell wafted over him. It was extremely strong, and woke the man up immediately. His pulse and breathing quickened as he sprang into a defensive position, and his wings rose up behind him. Taloned bird feet dug into the thick vegetation beneath him; he was ready to spring in any direction a threat might come from.

The human voice that drifted into his ears seemed faint and far away as Isaiah’s inhuman eyes flicked around him. He whipped around to face the voice, hissing as he did so. This is where the smell was coming from, he was sure…but the man standing before him seemed ordinary. Ignoring this, Isaiah crouched and hissed once more, his instincts taking control of his more human senses. The swords at his sides and on his back were forgotten, and all his previous weariness was gone. He was shining and proud once more, feathers gleaming in the morning light filtering through the trees.

After a few seconds, Isaiah began to reign himself in, though he was still incredibly wary of the newcomer. His eyebrows creased as he slowly straightened up, allowing his wings to drop slightly. Though now able to think clearly and speak, Isaiah instead fluttered his wings softly, sending a breeze of pine scented air to buffet the man.

“You would do well not to speak of Hell in front of me, human.” Isaiah’s voice, though not hugely deep, was filled with an air of authority and power and rang through the forest, though it had a quiet, soothing quality nearly hidden beneath. He tilted his head slightly and smiled, forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to let Earth dwellers see his true form. It was too late now.

“Though…I sense you’re not all human, are you? What might you be?” Talons clicked together as Isaiah crossed his arms, staring unblinkingly at the man across from him. Though Isaiah was aware the man was probably quite confused, or even scared, he simply couldn’t help starting up a conversation. This man had a smell that had never touched Isaiah’s nostrils before, and that was a rare thing.

Alex’s eyes widened as the creature rose and it’s wing spread outward touching the sky. For a brief moment he thought that he might be hallucinating, the image to surreal. The light reflecting off the creature’s wings was breath taking. In his long life he had never seen another as he. Rising to his full height Alex left out a soft growl as he took in the other man. He could feel his eyes bleed yellow as he noted the wicked looking talons on the creature’s feet and the swords at his side.

A waif of pine scented air hit his nose throwing him off his guard for a moment. It was an unnatural scent in the jungle; one that Alex had not partaken of in may years. Not since his youth in the mountains of Spain had he smelled pine. He pushed back memories and schooled his face to the emotionless mask as he faced the creature.

He growled as the creature spoke down to him. This was his jungle and his people. Alex may have been cursed with the beast, but he was not about to let it be destroyed by some over dressed cockatoo. He let his fangs elongate a rumble building in his chest. Ignoring the question he stalked forward moving over the fallen rubble of the jungle. “What are you doing in my jungle?”

Isaiah watched with calculating interest as the other man’s teeth began to grow passed the bounds of his mouth. He refrained from raising an eyebrow or rolling his eyes; it was just like humans, or near humans, to automatically assume that someone meant harm to them. It was out of the ordinary, however, that someone who could produce a sound such as the man was making at the moment would have an unfamiliar scent. He wasn’t a werewolf or canid hybrid, he wasn’t a demon; he was strange, and Isaiah was curious.

“I’m not here to hurt your jungle, I promise. It was mere happenstance that I fell here.” Isaiah lowered his wings once again, fairly certain the other wasn’t going to attack. If he was, there was nothing on the Earth faster than an angel defending itself, and Isaiah had made sure his talons were sharp before beginning this journey. “I’m sorry about destroying your trees as well, if they really are yours. Once unconscious, it is quite hard to steer.” Deciding he was once again tired, Isaiah crouched and sat on the soft ground beneath him, which was furrowed and dug up by his feet-talons. His legs stuck out awkwardly in front of him; it was impossible for his legs to do much of anything else while he was sitting. After adjusting the large scabbard on his back and flopping his wings out around him, he allowed his eyelids to droop comfortably; it was going to be a hot day, and the sun felt nice on his bare back.

Once situated, Isaiah turned his gaze back to the man still standing before him. “I could leave if you’d like, though you may have to wait awhile. I need to recover my strength.” Dropping his eyes once again, the angel began to pick debris out of the feathers of his top left wing, which he had deposited across his lap for easier access. He was aware that he looked very undignified, sprawled on a forest floor in the middle of Brazil, but he could care less at the moment. Though pleasant on the outside, Isaiah was in fact seething, furious with himself for being seen by a human in such an awkward and unflattering situation.

Alex listened quietly to the creature as it sat on the ground completely off the defensive. The shifter pulled the beast back enough to let his face and hands return to normal, but still simmer just under the surface. He didn’t trust the creature, no matter what he said. He could smell the power rolling off the creature, like lightening during the rainy season it crackled over his senses.

He looked over the other man again, more interested than worried. What was this…thing in front of him? Moving slowly forward Alex approached the new comer until he was just a mere foot away. The smell was stronger, nearly singing the delicate fibers of his nose, but it did not contain any of the smells he was used to smelling a predator give off; there was no fear or anger…mostly Alex was hit with amusement and curiosity. The creature wasn’t a threat…at the moment.

“What are you?” Alex cocked his head as he took a closer look. the feather over the man's body and wings matched the tone of the eagles and birds of prey that he'd raised as a boy with his father. There was no doubt this man was a warrior. The creature’s unnaturally pure white eyes seemed to gaze deep into his soul. He turned his gazed away. Then he smelled the anger…Alex growled automatically. “What are you doing here?”

Isaiah caught the change in the man’s voice and sighed, slightly irritated that his questions were being ignored. He moved his wing back to a more comfortable place and leaned back on his hands, crossing his legs in front of him as he did so. His eyes flicked back up to the other and he let it linger this time, blinking only as he pushed a clump of long hair out of his face. The gaze was not unfriendly; more calculating and inquisitive, as if trying to see into the other’s mind and soul.

“I’ll answer your questions backwards, as I see you won’t answer any of mine until you’ve had your fill. I’m here specifically because I passed out and fell out of the sky. I’m in Brazil because I’m…looking for something.” Isaiah’s expression became guarded for a brief second, but he let his apprehensiveness pass; he had time to dwell on that situation later. “To answer your first question, I am an angel. A High Angel, to be precise.” Choosing not to elaborate, as he was fairly sure the man would ask, Isaiah finally dipped his head forward, his thick hair falling to one side of his face.

“Now, if you would be so kind… What are you? I have never smelled your kind before.” Isaiah’s stare was slightly more volatile as he looked up once again. He allowed a faint, pearlescent sheen to swirl across his eyes, making them appear even more alien then they had been before. “I would really like to know…my kind is naturally…inquisitive.”

The shifter was slightly surprised at the lax position that the creature…angel had taken. Definitely not threatening, in fact the angel looked more like a young man ready to take a siesta under the sun. Alex smirked lightly as the angel spoke. He didn’t smell any lies in his answer.

“A seraphim?” The name came easily to Alex’s lips. His mother had taught him about the warriors of God as a child on her lap. Once he had been fascinated by the prospect, even thankful that God had angels to watch over him and his family, now…Alex cursed God and all his messengers. It didn’t matter they had abandoned him to his fate, but to let…no he was not going to think about that with this man in front of him. Shaking his head lightly Alex pushed the thought away and turned back to the angel lounging on the ground.

Alex frowned at the question; he had no idea what he was only what they had called him. “I’m Alexander Margil. I’m a guarda.” He crossed his arms over his chest uncomfortable. “I am supposed to watch over this area.”

Shivering lightly at the alien stare Alex turned away and looked back through the jungle. “If you are done sitting in the dirt, my home is not far from here, and away from prying eyes. The natives won’t be as understanding as I am. Come.”

Alex headed back into the jungle back to his house. He didn’t wait for the angel, the creature could take care of himself or sit in the dirt for all he cared. Once he was back at his home he leaned against a porch beam and waited for the angel rolling a clove cigarette, one of his vices, the things couldn’t kill him and it would help with the stress that was rolling through his body.

“So angel, what did god send you down to find?” The last was said with venom and sarcasm his anger rolling off him in waves.

Isaiah sighed as the man spoke; once again, his question was not answered. He was quite sure Alexander knew what he was talking about, but Isaiah supposed it was possible that the man either didn’t know or wouldn’t accept himself as he was. Resisting the urge to just walk away at that moment, Isaiah raised an eyebrow and spoke quietly, though he wasn’t sure the man was paying attention.

“If this is understanding, then I shudder to think about your…natives.” He didn’t bother explaining that it didn’t matter how these ‘natives’ reacted to him; earthly weapons couldn’t hurt Isaiah unless he was extremely weak or thrown off his guard. He didn’t show up on film in this form, and he doubted the locals had blessed blades of cream-gold available for everyday use. He was aware that this particular man could hurt him in his other form, the form he seemed quite reluctant to reveal…if he was fast enough, that is. However sure Isaiah was that he would goad Alexander into revealing himself, the angel was not willing to wager his life in a fight at the moment, especially since he was nowhere near his usual strength.

Isaiah followed the other man with his eyes as he left the small clearing made by his own crash landing. A house sounded nice, but Isaiah wasn’t sure if he wanted to put up with more questions. Curiosity and the prospect of something soft to curl up on won out in the end, and Isaiah stood, following the man through the trees. His footfalls were completely silent; he moved like a ghost, quick and soundless, regardless of the fact that his feet were several times larger than a normal human’s.

Once the other man had reached the house, Isaiah slowed his pace, slightly wary of the place. He walked into the clearing around the building much like a deer approaches a potential danger, stepping slowly and carefully, eyes wide. No danger presented itself and Alexander seemed comfortable, so Isaiah deemed the place suitable and stepped wholly into the shadow of the house, straightening up from his defensive stance as he did so. His nostrils flared and he flapped his first set of wings as he saw what the other had in his hands; if there was one thing that annoyed Isaiah more than anything, it was smoke. He watched the thing fly out of Alexander’s hands and onto the porch, waiting until it rolled to a stop before transferring his gaze to the man once again.

“First off, my name is Isaiah, not angel. I’m not your girlfriend.” Despite the possible humor in his statement, Isaiah’s face was completely emotionless, hard and cold in the shadow of building. “And God certainly didn’t send me on this errand. I left that crowd years ago; I make my own living.” Once again, Isaiah did not bother to elaborate; he was quite finished talking, and sleep was required before anything else would be answered. “Do you happen to have a couch or a spare bed in there?” He motioned with one wing at the house. “I’m not going to sleep out in the forest, and I need to recover.” His tone was very matter of fact, and he was not to be argued with at that moment. Though tried his best to make this come through in his voice, he knew he sounded more tired than anything.

The tracker shook his head as the angel moved out of the jungle and cautiously towards his house. “Come on angel, I don’t bite.” He took a deep pull from his cigarette enjoying the burning smoke. He noted how quietly the creature moved; even with the creature’s large wings he barely made a sound. Interesting, Alex took another long pull still watching. The angel was still unnerving moving more like a stalking beast than a man.

Alex glared at the angel as his cigarette was blown away. He growled lightly crossing his arms over his chest as he stomped out the cigarette on porch. He turned back to the angel still glaring. The angel was an emotionless mask, but the words still made the shifter snicker. “Alright Isaiah. So you rebelled against the big man upstairs?” Alex was being as disrespectful, tying to judge the angel and his reactions. He smiled his slightly pointed teeth glinting. He had lost all respect for the church and all it represented when he had been excommunicated and accused of rape publicly. He hadn’t even liked women…a characteristic that had damned him for all eternity.

At the ang- Isaiah’s statement Alex noted the tired edge to the man’s voice. Truthfully he wanted nothing to do with the angel, but he wasn’t comfortable with the angel running around the jungle on his own. Turning away from the angel he opened the glass door on the porch and headed into the house. “Come on then.” He led the angel into his house and down into his living room. There was a decent size futon there with a pair of fluffy pillows and a soft blanket. He pulled out the futon until it laid flat. “It’s not a mattress, but it’s still comfy.”

Isaiah chuckled as the other man spoke of revolt, breaking his impassive facade. “Rebelled? No; I just left. No one was going to stop me.” He crossed his arms and pulled his wings close to his body, folding them carefully behind his back over the broadsword fastened there. It was always amusing to Isaiah to watch humans react the way they did; they always thought they were so clever, always on top of things…it was, quite frankly, rather hilarious to observe.

A small smile spread over Isaiah’s features as Alexander turned and walked into the house. Isaiah followed, making sure to keep his wings tight against his back and his talons lifted a centimeter or two off the floor. He didn’t wait until the man spoke; once in the living room, he immediately crawled onto the futon and curled into a ball, his legs bending strangely as his wings moved to avoid being underneath him. Isaiah was passed out again in only a few seconds, one feathered finger twitching every now and then.

After a minute or two of being unconscious, the feathers on Isaiah’s arms and legs began to retreat back into his skin, and the talons and wings retracted into his body with much popping and squelching. His swords and clothes disintegrated into tiny gold flakes, which twinkled on his skin for a second or two before disappearing into thin air. The transformation was finished quickly, and in place of the majestic angel was a naked man, still curled up tightly. Isaiah looked much younger in this form, and his body more fragile, though still agile and leanly muscled. His skin was pale, and his dark hair stood out in stark contrast against the alabaster skin of his face and neck. The outline of his spine and ribs were just visible under the unblemished skin.

“Your welcome.” Alex shook his head as the angel just curled up on the bed not a word of thanks coming from the creature. He left Isaiah to rest up on the futon and headed back to his kitchen. The transformations over the last hour had drained him, leaving him starving. He popped open his fridge pulling out a few large cuts of meat and some mangos.

He cut the fruit nibbling on a few pieces before throwing the meat into the oven. Alex didn’t need to cook it very long, preferring to eat it warm and bloody. He finished the mango and opened a can of beer rubbing his head. The angel was a bit of a nuisance it had shown up out of nowhere, searching for something. He couldn’t let Isaiah go trespassing through the woods on his own. He wasn’t worried that the angel would get hurt by one of the millions of natural predators or poisonous plants in the jungle. There were far worse things than that in the amazon.

Alex’s appetite vanished at the thought. He had seen what the power of the Amazon could do to a trespasser, he needed to help this angel find what ever he was looking for then get him out of here. It was never just the fools that paid for their crimes in the jungle, the native villagers tended to suffer as well. He turned off the meat pulling it out and back into the fridge and heading back to the living room.

The sight on the futon stopped him dead in his track. In place of the large foreboding angel he had guided into his home there was a young beautiful man. Isaiah’s nearly transparent skin and dark hair were breath taking. Alex’s breath caught in his chest, images of a certain native boy flashing through his mind. His beer fell from his grip, shattering on the floor,

Isaiah was jerked awake as he heard something crash to the floor. He jumped, stormy eyes, which were now human and quite unintimidating, open wide as he wrenched the blanket up to cover his bottom half. His hair whipped around his face as he turned to stare down the intruder. Eyebrows now furrowed darkly, he hunched over and glared at Alexander, unable to find words as his pulse, sent into hyper drive by the sudden awakening, began to slow. His nostrils twitched as he sat up and pulled the blanket around him completely.

“You could knock you know.” Isaiah’s voice was much quieter now, and had lost its powerful edge. The underlying soothing quality remained, however, and was much more prevalent in this form. “I can’t be big and scary all the time…not when I need to heal. If you could stop gawking for a minute…” Isaiah recognized the look on Alexander’s face; it was one of sadness and remembering. Feeling a little bad for the man, Isaiah allowed his natural aura to expand, filling the room with soft warmth and a gentle scent of crushed pine needles. “Can I help you…Alexander?”

Alexander looked away from the naked man on his futon, finally shocked out of his memories by the man’s voice. It wasn’t the same voice that he heard screaming night after night in his dreams. “Sorry.” He remained silent looking away from the other man. Suddenly the scent of pine needles filled the air and a warm feeling wrapped around him. Alex looked up at the now human angel recognizing the scent.

“What ever you’re doing stop it!” The statement came out as a rough growl. “Just…stop it.”

Moving back from the futon he went to the kitchen grabbing a broom to sweep up the broken glass. He swept it up quickly, back ridged in anger. He wasn’t angry at Isaiah, but he didn’t want the creature’s sympathy, he deserved everything that had happened to him. After the glass was picked up, Alex looked up at the other man. “I’ll get you something to wear.”

Alex chucked the broken glass in the trash and grabbed a smaller t-shirt and pants from his closet. He looked for a pair of shoes, but there was nothing in the other man’s size. “Here, these should fit. If not I can take you into the village later.”

Isaiah tilted his head slightly at Alexander’s words; he couldn’t stop his aura doing what it wanted. “It’s not my fault. I don’t feel like controlling it, I’m tired.” He watched, cool expression unchanging, as the other man left the room to get something to clean his mess. Though he looked quite human now, there was still something off about Isaiah, though most humans couldn’t pick out what it was. Isaiah knew; it was his eyes, and the soul behind them, which was completely untainted and pure, as it always would be. Human’s souls were made of different stuff, and reflected differently through the lenses of their eyes.

The angel’s gaze shifted slowly as Alexander came back to the room and handed him some clothes. Sighing quietly, he stood and pulled the pants over his hips; they were a little too loose, but they would do. He then flopped back down onto the futon, reluctant to give up the warm spot he had only slept in for a few minutes. Sleep called to him still, but he resisted the urge to curl up for the moment.

“I don’t want to go to any village. I don’t want to be around anyone.” Isaiah’s expression changed from sleepy to moody as he remembered why he was in Brazil in the first place. The last thing he wanted to do at the moment was continue his search for the stupid temple, but there was really no way around it. He would have to leave and carry on looking soon, no matter how much he wanted to procrastinate.

Alex huffed like the big cat he resembled. “I wasn’t suggesting now.” Even in this form Alex was extremely uncomfortable with Isaiah’s presence. The angel’s eyes they weren’t right, he couldn’t hold the other man’s gaze. Turning his eyes away he looked at the wall, just beyond the man. “Go back to sleep I’ll be outside if you need anything. If you yell, I’ll hear it.”

He left the angel on the bed and stripping off his shirt went back outside to work on his jeep. The beast was writhing under the surface of his skin, yowling to be let loose. It was irritated by another predator in its territory; the sooner the angel was gone the better. He lifted the hood again and set to work on cleaning the radiator, pulling the part out and starting to sand off the rust. Alex worked silently, the repetitive motion soothing him. He hummed softly to himself as he finished the radiator then jacked up the jeep to slip under it.

He pulled out the oil pan and drained it in the bucket beside the jeep. By the time he was done it had been a few hours and he was covered in grease, sweat and grime. He came back into the house, toned abs glistening; he wiped down most of with his spare shirt then tossed it in the hamper just inside the door. Alex grabbed a cold one from the fridge, leaning back against the counter.

Isaiah furrowed his brows as the other man turned to leave, but he said nothing, instead nestling into the blanket and preparing once again to sleep. The pants got in the way of this, so he slipped them off under the covers and curled up once again. It didn’t take long for him to sink into a long, dreamless and much needed sleep.

Isaiah was awakened quite awhile later by the sound of a door closing. He felt much better now, and was ready to begin interrogating Alexander about what he truly was. Before standing up, he pulled the pants, which were still near his feet, back up to his hips; he figured the other man would appreciate this. He pushed the blanket off and bounced to his feet, allowing a small smile to curl the corners of his lips. Remembering all he could about the layout of the house from the earlier trip downstairs, he made his silent way to the kitchen.

“I see you’ve been busy.” Isaiah leaned on the doorframe and flicked his gaze up to Alexander’s face, the smile still in place on his own. “You’ve been angry too. I promise I won’t ruin anything…” The smile disappeared from Isaiah’s face and he widened his eyes, bringing an air of innocence to his angled features. He was determined to find something that would relax the man, even if it meant putting up some sort of ruse. This wasn’t completely fake, however; Isaiah did feel a little bad about encroaching on the man’s territory, but there really wasn’t anything he could have done to stop it. “Are you willing to talk to me? I’m sorry if I made you mad…”

Alex smirked to himself at the angel’s comment, tipping his head back and finishing his tecante. Thank god the other man had put some clothing on. The tracker wasn’t sure he could have handled a repeat showing. He crushed the can with a little force and threw the can in the trash. He ran a rag under the cool stream of water from the tap. Rubbing the rag over the back of his neck he turned back to the other man. The water felt like heaven against his skin removing the salt and grime from his upper torso.

“Your presence in the jungle doesn’t only jeopardize you, but also the people and the creatures that call this their home. The sooner you leave the better.” The tracker growled finishing cleaning the oil off his face, hands, and chest. So Isaiah wanted to know more about him. He wanted a few answers as well. Alex smirked at the other man throwing the dirty rag in the hamper. “I’ll make you a deal angel. I answer a question and you have to answer one for me. Deal?”

He moved out of the kitchen and headed to the living room sitting in a wicker chair near a large window facing the jungle.

((Kinda short, sorry... Conversations tend to be that way.))

Isaiah’s innocent visage vanished, to be replaced immediately with a look of annoyance. This man was very bad at playing along, and that irritated the angel. He followed Alexander into the other room and made himself comfortable on the floor before answering.

“I suppose that works. I would like you to lighten up a bit, though. This tough guy act is getting on my nerves.” Isaiah crossed his arms and stared up at the man once again. This time, he began studying the man’s face and body with the same cold, hard glaze that had rarely changed in the long years of his life. More than anything, Isaiah wished for someone or something that could break his chilly demeanor, someone that he could be himself with…but Isaiah knew he would find no one like that on Earth. For now, however, he knew that he had to focus on the task ahead of him.

“I get to go first. I want to know what you are, and how you got to be that way.” Another disarming smile crept onto his face, causing a faint light to jump to life in his eyes. “And no lies please.”

Alex nearly laughed at the look of annoyance that crossed Isaiah’s face. He didn’t play nicely with others, and he didn’t like people who lied to him or at least avoided the truth. The tracker smirked at the angel, “Annoying you am I? Join the club, angel boy. And it’s not an act.” A low growl started up in his chest again, Alex’s once again yellow eyes begged Isaiah to test that fact.

He returned the cool gaze, as he pushed the beast back down and let his eyes return to their normal sea green. After Isaiah’s question he turned away, barely catching the flicker of life in the angel’s eyes. He sighed slightly miffed at the angel; his past was something he didn’t enjoy delving into the darkness. Why was the angel so keen to know what he was? Alex gazed longingly out the window.

“I don’t know what I am…not really.” It came out rough…broken, words dripping with the pain of centuries. “I know who I was. How I lived, where I was born.” Alex stopped for a moment trying to gather his rambling thoughts. He cleared his throat. “The natives call me el maldito protetor, the damned protector. I was cursed centuries ago; to protect the people of this land and the jungle itself, forever. I was sent to Brazil, to a family estate after I had turned 25. A local tribe captured me, The Kiantans. After they had slaughtered the house hold. While under the care of my captives I was tortured, beaten and then cursed. When I get angry enough or when I am forced into the change.”

He stood suddenly walking back to the kitchen and pulling out a large bottle of the hard liquor. The memories were racing back at him at full force and he needed something to dull the pain they were causing. He unscrewed the ca and took too large pulls. Alex’s hands were slowly morphing back and forth the large claws digging into the wood. “My turn hmmm? What are you looking for in my jungle?”

Isaiah picked at the floor with his nails as the man began to speak; his fingernails were the only thing that showed what he might become when he changed. They were long and filed to points, and, if one was to try, they would find that the nails wouldn’t break, and were extremely hard to cut.

A look of disinterest planted itself on the angel’s face as he looked up. This answer was more satisfactory than before, but it still didn’t tell Isaiah what he wanted to know. Already thinking of his next question, he barely heard Alexander’s query. His head tilted to the right slightly; of all the questions the other man could ask, why this one?

“A temple.” Isaiah’s answer was short and sweet as he debated whether to elaborate. “I…take odd jobs for people, things that they can’t do themselves, or can’t find anyone else. I’m rather…hard to shake up, so they assume I can take care of anything they need. And, most of the time, I can.” He pushed his long fingers through his hair, a strange look creeping into his eyes as he stared at the floor. “I want to get this job done as soon as possible…I need to go home.” The last part of this statement was almost whispered as Isaiah’s eyebrows furrowed, and a small hiss escaped his lips. His little brother was at home; he had only just arrived when Isaiah had to leave three weeks ago.

“My turn. Well…more of a request, I suppose. I want you to change. I want to see you.” Isaiah stood up at this point, his dark expression not completely cleared up as he transferred his gaze from the floor to Alexander’s face. “You won’t hurt me, and…I have a way with animals.” The expression of hard purpose stayed on the angel’s face; he was completely serious, and expected to get what he wanted.

Alex took another pull of the clear liquor as Isaiah spoke. The angel was completely vague and the shifter assumed he was doing it on purpose. He thought over the answer, and tried to remember the temples in the area. There were only a few that had anything of value in them, mostly gold and jewels, nothing of real importance. If Isaiah wanted any of that he was more than welcome to it. Alex had the feeling though, that treasure was not what the angel was hunting for.

He rolled the bottle in his hands thinking for a moment when Isaiah made his next request. Looking up with wild eyes Alex growled in surprise. His fist thought was a resounding no. The beast was vicious and unpredictable; the change like he was getting ripped open. Leaving the bottle on the table he approached the other man.

“It’s not an animal Isaiah. It’s a beast. A demon.” He growled again letting his eyes change. “If you really want to see it…we need to go outside.”

Alex turned away without another word and headed outside. Moving away from the house and into the jungle a little bit the tracker removed his pants and stood naked in the trees. Slowly he let the take over and his humanity slip away. Bones snapped and reformed letting Alex’s limbs elongate. Alex fell to his knees in a silent scream before his hands dug into his chest and started to pull off his shin. No blood resulted from the wounds. Under the torn human flesh was a rough skin of a beast. The rest of his human flesh sloughed off leaving behind a pool of gore and an inhuman creature.

The creature stretched out long feline legs and tale uncurling. It opened its bright yellow eyes then it’s massive jaws, rows of sharp teeth glistening in the sunlight. The beast stalked forward smelling prey. It leapt into the art and pinned Isaiah to the ground growling at the angel. Then the smell hit it him, the smell of pine, of warmth and love. Some thing so familiar and comforting that the beast started to purr and rub against the smaller figure.

*
*this is kinda what alex looks like except the coloring is off. He's more green and brown. Also his skin feels like worn leather, smooth and buffed. Also he has the saber tooth like canines.