♛ : CHRISTIAN BRUTAL SNIPER.

@taintedblades

roleplay and ask blog

27 posts

” ANIMAL . . .

. . . CANNIBAL ? “

roleplay account for my portrayal of Christian Brutal Sniper. Will mostly be built on headcanons. CBS is from Freak Fortress, I am not associated with the creator(s) of the character. Will include disturbing themes, religious themes and canon-typical violence. Be wary.

basic info : he / it prns , bisexual + ambiamorous + male , ageless (physically early 40s) , undead / demon.

multiverse, oc and multiship friendly !! each ship is set in its own verse unless said otherwise. there is no cheating !!!

tag meanings:

ooc : speaking out of character

headcanon : headcanon, usually ooc

#team fortress 2 rp #tf2 rp #tf2 rp blog #freak fortress 2 #freak fortress 2 rp #freak fortress rp #ff2 #ff2rp #indie rp

TW for descriptive gore and character being reminded of past trauma.

Brutal stumbled his way through the foliage, blinding pushing his way through branches and bushes. His eyes were covered with blood, and he could barely see his way through the forest. All he could see, taste, smell—Blood. He could feel the heat of fire following his footsteps, and he wheezed as he breathed in the smoke.

The demon sped up his pace, though was obviously limping and, in general, in very bad condition. He collapsed against a tree, sliding down to the bottom and staring straight ahead. Through his blurry, blood-covered eyes, he could see the roaring flames reaching closer. He breathed heavily. He couldn’t be back here again.

He’d killed them all. They wouldn’t hurt him anymore. Were those trees starting to look like people? He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands. He could feel it all flooding back. His brain felt crowded. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to face it again.

@purityknives

during this — pure was in his cathedral, praying as he would. words he knew that meant nothing were whispered into the holy presence of the church. gloved hands were clasped together, prayer beads decorating slender digits like pearls around a woman's neck. carrying the weight of a fallen angel hung over him, taunting him of the days of what he once was. what he still could have been; if he hadn't made the wrong choice, hung around the wrong people.

closed eyes began to squeeze tighter, unwanted thoughts clouding his mind during prayer. his grasp tightening, hushed words speeding up before an abrupt stop. irises glowed a bright white hue momentarily as eyelids shot open. his breathing was shallow, his body tense and skin a little cold. he untangled his fingers from the beads, gaze trailing down to the cross on the object.

you did this, was what he wanted to say. you cursed me, you casted me aside. i am your creation and you threw me out like i meant nothing.

he heard a voice, no, was it voices? and the sound of fire in the back of his mind. it was odd. pure looked around the holy structure, seeing nothing out of place. the anxious feeling in his chest only grew, standing from his knees and stepping away from the altar. perhaps it was best to return to brutal, see if it was doing okay. with the flick of his fingers, a portal was created.

"dear god, show me where brutal is." the angel whispered beneath his breath. once again, those sounds of fire and screaming came to mind; but with it was an image. there was a burning forest, people screaming and scorched in the fire, and one person who ran. pure paid no mind to it, letting himself step into the portal.

Brutal tried to drown the screams out, stumbling back up to his feet again in hopes of finding someplace quieter. He didn’t care much about the fire, and probably didn’t even notice it at all. He only managed to run a few steps before crashing right into another tree. He couldn’t see a thing.

It felt pathetic. It was supposed to be feared by all—And it’d been reduced to nothing by a little fire. And, probably the giant gash in its chest that was gushing blood. Now he was just laying on the ground, glasses cracked and wounds bleeding. He stared up at the sky, and for an instant, he could see the stars between the clouds of smoke.

the warbling noises were barely audible from the crackling noises from the fire, and the distant screams. pure took a step onto the burnt flooring. eyes peered over the environment, the heat bringing a layer of sweat to his skin. the portal closed behind him once he stepped out completely, his head slowly turning and taking in the scorched forest. a frown appears on his features; he feels like he's been here before.

he strayed away from the fire, not wanting to get burnt or harmed tonight. his eyes drifted from various trees, smelling blood on them. he wondered if brutal caused this, who couldn't escape the forest flames, who died in to his claws.

the smell of ichor only grew stronger, leading pure to follow the scent — in hopes of leading somewhere. in hopes that this blood wasn't brutal's. but as the angel drew closer, the scent grew stronger, became familiar. it was his.

he picked up his speed, running from both the fire and after the scent. but all these trees looked the same, the blood was heavy, it was everywhere. pure looked around frantically, blue hues shimmering with worry and visible panic.

"brutal!" he called out, pushing past branches and burnt leaves. he had to cover his mouth, in order to not choke from the smoke around him, "mon dieu, where are you?!"

Brutal thought that he distantly heard someone calling his name, but he was beginning to lose coherency as his vision kept blurring in and out. He glanced up as he heard a loud cracking sound, and the tree in front of him seemed to be getting mysteriously closer.

“Shit—“ Brutal still had enough consciousness left in him to roll out of the way before the tree crushed him, but unfortunately, his legs were caught underneath the burning wood. He let out a cry of pain, trying (and failing) to pull himself forward and out from under the tree. His legs were likely broken beyond repair, now.

He grunted, feeling the air suddenly getting harder and harder to breathe in. He stared ahead blearily, and saw what looked like a base in the distance. A BLU Base. Like it was mocking him.

as much as pure wanted to bring his wings out and fly above the forest, there was no clear opening for him to do so. it was then he heard a tree cracking, then a loud scream. he followed after it, running after the voice. no, he knew this was him. between the cries and wails of agony overwhelming the angel, this was the only one he could identify.

"brutal! brutal!!" he called out, coughing as he inhaled some smoke. his eyelids were squinted, the ashes and the hot air stinging his eyes. he had an arm in front of his face, groaning from the smell of burning flesh.

"god, i pray to you, please tell me he's okay." he whispered to himself, weaving through trees and slipping under fallen logs, "please let him be okay. please, god, please."

but praying could only get him so far, and he knew that himself. there was only so much pure could ask from the very god that threw him out of heaven. his eyes began to water from the stinging sensation, needing to wipe them away in order to get a clear vision of his path. he even used his powers to push burning wood out of his way.

"brutal!! where are you?!"

Brutal stared ahead at the BLU Base. It had some sort of dark energy surrounding it, like the building itself was alive and here to swallow him whole. It didn’t help that he could still hear whoever that was calling his name. Were they here to hurt him?

He pushed himself up to try and stand up, but immediately regretted that decision when a harsh spike of pain shot through his legs. He cried out in pain again, only this time weaker.

He laid his head on the warm leaves below, no longer caring about the cinders that burned his cheek. His vision started to blur more as he saw a sort of… Glowing white figure dancing across his vision. He giggled to himself in his delirium.

"brutal!"

his voice sounded like one of relief, his words wavered as pure came running to the figure on the floor. there was a large log squishing him against the ground, in which led pure to use his powers once more. his hands glowed a white hue, the same color surrounding the log. he strained, almost growling as he pushed the tree off him. perhaps it gave brutal some reassurance, but he was a mess — his legs seemed broken in places it shouldn't, he had gashes littering his body, creating a blood pool beneath him, he was overall drenched in the sticky crimson substance. one notable injury was the open piercing through his chest.

the scene alone brought tears to his eyes, falling to his knees beside the demon and bringing his hands to cup his face ever so carefully.

"how— what happened?" he asked frantically, that once calm and annoyed tone in his voice long gone, "stay with me, ami, s– stay with me here."

in the back of his mind he would pray; meanwhile he removed his white coat and press it onto his chest. he bit back his tears, not wanting to get them on brutal's skin. he was already bloodied and battered, the angel couldn't bare to see him in more pain. he looked around, and yet, all he could see was the blazing forest. the orange and yellow hues reflected in pure's teary eyes.

she looked back down to him, "don't go yet, okay? just stay with me, li– isten to the sound of my voice, brutal." her voice went soft, not wanting to let him hear her broken words and fearful tone. she would lean closer, tucking an arm beneath his neck so he wouldn't have to lay his head on the floor.

Brutal mumbled something incoherent, staring straight ahead with bleary eyes. It’s like he didn’t even notice Pure, rather focusing on what was behind him, it being something only he could see.

Though, he could feel his touch. He weakly tried to move away from Pure, unsure if he was friend or foe. He mumble something just barely audible. “No, no…”

He coughed and sputtered on the smoke in the air, his breathing coming out in short bursts. This was it for him, wasn’t it? Here, lying on the ground in a burning forest, someone that he probably didn’t know sitting next to him.

"it's okay, it's okay! it's me, mon ami. your angel friend, pure." she whispered, a bloodied hand coming up to cover her mouth. holy tears stained her balaclava, brows furrowed as she closed her eyes.

she wanted to pick him up, carry him to his feet, bring him home and fix his wounds — but something told her that she couldn't. there was no easy way out of this, or she would just put him through more pain. that was the last thing pure wanted.

"don't go." the angel pleaded through quiet sobs, another hand weakly grasping at the charred fabric of his clothes. she shifted closer to him, letting crimson blood varnish her white clothes.

"don't leave me."

After a short pause, recognition flashed in Brutal’s eyes. “..Pure…?” He spoke softly, before weakly reaching up a hand to grab the end of Pure’s suit. He moved his focus away from the haunting base, up to Pure’s eyes. He looked… Terrified.

Was his condition really that bad? Brutal tried to sit up, only to let out a strangled sob from the sudden wave of pain in his legs. He stared down at them, and let out a weak laugh.

“Oh. That’s… Prrrobably bad.” He giggled, his speech slurred slightly.

"oh great heavens..." she sighed, more tears spilling from saddened sapphires, "how did this happen? we need to get back home. h- here, i can make us a portal! please, just.."

her heart ached listening to him cry out from the pain. usually, as an angel, she wasn't the type to flinch at loud sounds or sudden noises; nothing scared pure. but, with the fire roaring louder and trees crackling around them, it made her jump a little.

"stay with me, brutal. listen to my voice, ok– okay?" pure was more than terrified. not even words could explain the fear pooling in her heart from the very sight, from the thought of ... that.

his arm slowly lifted up brutal's head, resting it onto his lap carefully. he chewed on his bottom lip, not wanting his tears to fall onto its face. he pulled his gloves off, throwing them to the side. pure then brushes shaky digits through its hair, tucking some loose strands away from its horns and face.

"i will fix this, and- and you'll be okay. you'll be all better soon once we go home. we can," the angel swallowed back the lump in his throat. no, there wasn't a way out of this with brutal alive. yet he refused to believe it was true, "we– we can go back, i'll take you flying in the starry sky again, and go— go on murder dates again. god damn it, just stay with me."

Brutal choked on the blood that started running down from his mouth. He stared up at Pure through his bleary eyes, and knew that they both knew this was it for him. He hoped he’d at least go out killing someone. But… Here, with Pure by his side, felt much better.

Its eyes drooped as Pure combed through its hair, the sensation soothing to it. It felt its body start to go numb, and it found that it could now barely move its limbs. He wasn’t new to dying, but this was different. It was slower this time, rather than the quick end he had all that time ago.

He listened to the others voice as they began to fade out, barely even comprehending the words. Brutal went limp in Pure’s arms.

#Banging fist on desk #ough…#💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔#SNNNFFFF #brutalhound time

destruction1999x

TW for descriptive gore and character being reminded of past trauma.

Brutal stumbled his way through the foliage, blinding pushing his way through branches and bushes. His eyes were covered with blood, and he could barely see his way through the forest. All he could see, taste, smell—Blood. He could feel the heat of fire following his footsteps, and he wheezed as he breathed in the smoke.

The demon sped up his pace, though was obviously limping and, in general, in very bad condition. He collapsed against a tree, sliding down to the bottom and staring straight ahead. Through his blurry, blood-covered eyes, he could see the roaring flames reaching closer. He breathed heavily. He couldn’t be back here again.

He’d killed them all. They wouldn’t hurt him anymore. Were those trees starting to look like people? He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands. He could feel it all flooding back. His brain felt crowded. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to face it again.

@purityknives

during this — pure was in his cathedral, praying as he would. words he knew that meant nothing were whispered into the holy presence of the church. gloved hands were clasped together, prayer beads decorating slender digits like pearls around a woman's neck. carrying the weight of a fallen angel hung over him, taunting him of the days of what he once was. what he still could have been; if he hadn't made the wrong choice, hung around the wrong people.

closed eyes began to squeeze tighter, unwanted thoughts clouding his mind during prayer. his grasp tightening, hushed words speeding up before an abrupt stop. irises glowed a bright white hue momentarily as eyelids shot open. his breathing was shallow, his body tense and skin a little cold. he untangled his fingers from the beads, gaze trailing down to the cross on the object.

you did this, was what he wanted to say. you cursed me, you casted me aside. i am your creation and you threw me out like i meant nothing.

he heard a voice, no, was it voices? and the sound of fire in the back of his mind. it was odd. pure looked around the holy structure, seeing nothing out of place. the anxious feeling in his chest only grew, standing from his knees and stepping away from the altar. perhaps it was best to return to brutal, see if it was doing okay. with the flick of his fingers, a portal was created.

"dear god, show me where brutal is." the angel whispered beneath his breath. once again, those sounds of fire and screaming came to mind; but with it was an image. there was a burning forest, people screaming and scorched in the fire, and one person who ran. pure paid no mind to it, letting himself step into the portal.

Brutal tried to drown the screams out, stumbling back up to his feet again in hopes of finding someplace quieter. He didn’t care much about the fire, and probably didn’t even notice it at all. He only managed to run a few steps before crashing right into another tree. He couldn’t see a thing.

It felt pathetic. It was supposed to be feared by all—And it’d been reduced to nothing by a little fire. And, probably the giant gash in its chest that was gushing blood. Now he was just laying on the ground, glasses cracked and wounds bleeding. He stared up at the sky, and for an instant, he could see the stars between the clouds of smoke.

the warbling noises were barely audible from the crackling noises from the fire, and the distant screams. pure took a step onto the burnt flooring. eyes peered over the environment, the heat bringing a layer of sweat to his skin. the portal closed behind him once he stepped out completely, his head slowly turning and taking in the scorched forest. a frown appears on his features; he feels like he's been here before.

he strayed away from the fire, not wanting to get burnt or harmed tonight. his eyes drifted from various trees, smelling blood on them. he wondered if brutal caused this, who couldn't escape the forest flames, who died in to his claws.

the smell of ichor only grew stronger, leading pure to follow the scent — in hopes of leading somewhere. in hopes that this blood wasn't brutal's. but as the angel drew closer, the scent grew stronger, became familiar. it was his.

he picked up his speed, running from both the fire and after the scent. but all these trees looked the same, the blood was heavy, it was everywhere. pure looked around frantically, blue hues shimmering with worry and visible panic.

"brutal!" he called out, pushing past branches and burnt leaves. he had to cover his mouth, in order to not choke from the smoke around him, "mon dieu, where are you?!"

Brutal thought that he distantly heard someone calling his name, but he was beginning to lose coherency as his vision kept blurring in and out. He glanced up as he heard a loud cracking sound, and the tree in front of him seemed to be getting mysteriously closer.

“Shit—“ Brutal still had enough consciousness left in him to roll out of the way before the tree crushed him, but unfortunately, his legs were caught underneath the burning wood. He let out a cry of pain, trying (and failing) to pull himself forward and out from under the tree. His legs were likely broken beyond repair, now.

He grunted, feeling the air suddenly getting harder and harder to breathe in. He stared ahead blearily, and saw what looked like a base in the distance. A BLU Base. Like it was mocking him.

as much as pure wanted to bring his wings out and fly above the forest, there was no clear opening for him to do so. it was then he heard a tree cracking, then a loud scream. he followed after it, running after the voice. no, he knew this was him. between the cries and wails of agony overwhelming the angel, this was the only one he could identify.

"brutal! brutal!!" he called out, coughing as he inhaled some smoke. his eyelids were squinted, the ashes and the hot air stinging his eyes. he had an arm in front of his face, groaning from the smell of burning flesh.

"god, i pray to you, please tell me he's okay." he whispered to himself, weaving through trees and slipping under fallen logs, "please let him be okay. please, god, please."

but praying could only get him so far, and he knew that himself. there was only so much pure could ask from the very god that threw him out of heaven. his eyes began to water from the stinging sensation, needing to wipe them away in order to get a clear vision of his path. he even used his powers to push burning wood out of his way.

"brutal!! where are you?!"

Brutal stared ahead at the BLU Base. It had some sort of dark energy surrounding it, like the building itself was alive and here to swallow him whole. It didn’t help that he could still hear whoever that was calling his name. Were they here to hurt him?

He pushed himself up to try and stand up, but immediately regretted that decision when a harsh spike of pain shot through his legs. He cried out in pain again, only this time weaker.

He laid his head on the warm leaves below, no longer caring about the cinders that burned his cheek. His vision started to blur more as he saw a sort of… Glowing white figure dancing across his vision. He giggled to himself in his delirium.

"brutal!"

his voice sounded like one of relief, his words wavered as pure came running to the figure on the floor. there was a large log squishing him against the ground, in which led pure to use his powers once more. his hands glowed a white hue, the same color surrounding the log. he strained, almost growling as he pushed the tree off him. perhaps it gave brutal some reassurance, but he was a mess — his legs seemed broken in places it shouldn't, he had gashes littering his body, creating a blood pool beneath him, he was overall drenched in the sticky crimson substance. one notable injury was the open piercing through his chest.

the scene alone brought tears to his eyes, falling to his knees beside the demon and bringing his hands to cup his face ever so carefully.

"how— what happened?" he asked frantically, that once calm and annoyed tone in his voice long gone, "stay with me, ami, s– stay with me here."

in the back of his mind he would pray; meanwhile he removed his white coat and press it onto his chest. he bit back his tears, not wanting to get them on brutal's skin. he was already bloodied and battered, the angel couldn't bare to see him in more pain. he looked around, and yet, all he could see was the blazing forest. the orange and yellow hues reflected in pure's teary eyes.

she looked back down to him, "don't go yet, okay? just stay with me, li– isten to the sound of my voice, brutal." her voice went soft, not wanting to let him hear her broken words and fearful tone. she would lean closer, tucking an arm beneath his neck so he wouldn't have to lay his head on the floor.

Brutal mumbled something incoherent, staring straight ahead with bleary eyes. It’s like he didn’t even notice Pure, rather focusing on what was behind him, it being something only he could see.

Though, he could feel his touch. He weakly tried to move away from Pure, unsure if he was friend or foe. He mumble something just barely audible. “No, no…”

He coughed and sputtered on the smoke in the air, his breathing coming out in short bursts. This was it for him, wasn’t it? Here, lying on the ground in a burning forest, someone that he probably didn’t know sitting next to him.

"it's okay, it's okay! it's me, mon ami. your angel friend, pure." she whispered, a bloodied hand coming up to cover her mouth. holy tears stained her balaclava, brows furrowed as she closed her eyes.

she wanted to pick him up, carry him to his feet, bring him home and fix his wounds — but something told her that she couldn't. there was no easy way out of this, or she would just put him through more pain. that was the last thing pure wanted.

"don't go." the angel pleaded through quiet sobs, another hand weakly grasping at the charred fabric of his clothes. she shifted closer to him, letting crimson blood varnish her white clothes.

"don't leave me."

After a short pause, recognition flashed in Brutal’s eyes. “..Pure…?” He spoke softly, before weakly reaching up a hand to grab the end of Pure’s suit. He moved his focus away from the haunting base, up to Pure’s eyes. He looked… Terrified.

Was his condition really that bad? Brutal tried to sit up, only to let out a strangled sob from the sudden wave of pain in his legs. He stared down at them, and let out a weak laugh.

“Oh. That’s… Prrrobably bad.” He giggled, his speech slurred slightly.

#SNIFFLES SOBS…#hes probably goinf to die in my next reply OR the one after #so prepare yourself

TW for descriptive gore and character being reminded of past trauma.

Brutal stumbled his way through the foliage, blinding pushing his way through branches and bushes. His eyes were covered with blood, and he could barely see his way through the forest. All he could see, taste, smell—Blood. He could feel the heat of fire following his footsteps, and he wheezed as he breathed in the smoke.

The demon sped up his pace, though was obviously limping and, in general, in very bad condition. He collapsed against a tree, sliding down to the bottom and staring straight ahead. Through his blurry, blood-covered eyes, he could see the roaring flames reaching closer. He breathed heavily. He couldn’t be back here again.

He’d killed them all. They wouldn’t hurt him anymore. Were those trees starting to look like people? He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands. He could feel it all flooding back. His brain felt crowded. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to face it again.

@purityknives

during this — pure was in his cathedral, praying as he would. words he knew that meant nothing were whispered into the holy presence of the church. gloved hands were clasped together, prayer beads decorating slender digits like pearls around a woman's neck. carrying the weight of a fallen angel hung over him, taunting him of the days of what he once was. what he still could have been; if he hadn't made the wrong choice, hung around the wrong people.

closed eyes began to squeeze tighter, unwanted thoughts clouding his mind during prayer. his grasp tightening, hushed words speeding up before an abrupt stop. irises glowed a bright white hue momentarily as eyelids shot open. his breathing was shallow, his body tense and skin a little cold. he untangled his fingers from the beads, gaze trailing down to the cross on the object.

you did this, was what he wanted to say. you cursed me, you casted me aside. i am your creation and you threw me out like i meant nothing.

he heard a voice, no, was it voices? and the sound of fire in the back of his mind. it was odd. pure looked around the holy structure, seeing nothing out of place. the anxious feeling in his chest only grew, standing from his knees and stepping away from the altar. perhaps it was best to return to brutal, see if it was doing okay. with the flick of his fingers, a portal was created.

"dear god, show me where brutal is." the angel whispered beneath his breath. once again, those sounds of fire and screaming came to mind; but with it was an image. there was a burning forest, people screaming and scorched in the fire, and one person who ran. pure paid no mind to it, letting himself step into the portal.

Brutal tried to drown the screams out, stumbling back up to his feet again in hopes of finding someplace quieter. He didn’t care much about the fire, and probably didn’t even notice it at all. He only managed to run a few steps before crashing right into another tree. He couldn’t see a thing.

It felt pathetic. It was supposed to be feared by all—And it’d been reduced to nothing by a little fire. And, probably the giant gash in its chest that was gushing blood. Now he was just laying on the ground, glasses cracked and wounds bleeding. He stared up at the sky, and for an instant, he could see the stars between the clouds of smoke.

the warbling noises were barely audible from the crackling noises from the fire, and the distant screams. pure took a step onto the burnt flooring. eyes peered over the environment, the heat bringing a layer of sweat to his skin. the portal closed behind him once he stepped out completely, his head slowly turning and taking in the scorched forest. a frown appears on his features; he feels like he's been here before.

he strayed away from the fire, not wanting to get burnt or harmed tonight. his eyes drifted from various trees, smelling blood on them. he wondered if brutal caused this, who couldn't escape the forest flames, who died in to his claws.

the smell of ichor only grew stronger, leading pure to follow the scent — in hopes of leading somewhere. in hopes that this blood wasn't brutal's. but as the angel drew closer, the scent grew stronger, became familiar. it was his.

he picked up his speed, running from both the fire and after the scent. but all these trees looked the same, the blood was heavy, it was everywhere. pure looked around frantically, blue hues shimmering with worry and visible panic.

"brutal!" he called out, pushing past branches and burnt leaves. he had to cover his mouth, in order to not choke from the smoke around him, "mon dieu, where are you?!"

Brutal thought that he distantly heard someone calling his name, but he was beginning to lose coherency as his vision kept blurring in and out. He glanced up as he heard a loud cracking sound, and the tree in front of him seemed to be getting mysteriously closer.

“Shit—“ Brutal still had enough consciousness left in him to roll out of the way before the tree crushed him, but unfortunately, his legs were caught underneath the burning wood. He let out a cry of pain, trying (and failing) to pull himself forward and out from under the tree. His legs were likely broken beyond repair, now.

He grunted, feeling the air suddenly getting harder and harder to breathe in. He stared ahead blearily, and saw what looked like a base in the distance. A BLU Base. Like it was mocking him.

as much as pure wanted to bring his wings out and fly above the forest, there was no clear opening for him to do so. it was then he heard a tree cracking, then a loud scream. he followed after it, running after the voice. no, he knew this was him. between the cries and wails of agony overwhelming the angel, this was the only one he could identify.

"brutal! brutal!!" he called out, coughing as he inhaled some smoke. his eyelids were squinted, the ashes and the hot air stinging his eyes. he had an arm in front of his face, groaning from the smell of burning flesh.

"god, i pray to you, please tell me he's okay." he whispered to himself, weaving through trees and slipping under fallen logs, "please let him be okay. please, god, please."

but praying could only get him so far, and he knew that himself. there was only so much pure could ask from the very god that threw him out of heaven. his eyes began to water from the stinging sensation, needing to wipe them away in order to get a clear vision of his path. he even used his powers to push burning wood out of his way.

"brutal!! where are you?!"

Brutal stared ahead at the BLU Base. It had some sort of dark energy surrounding it, like the building itself was alive and here to swallow him whole. It didn’t help that he could still hear whoever that was calling his name. Were they here to hurt him?

He pushed himself up to try and stand up, but immediately regretted that decision when a harsh spike of pain shot through his legs. He cried out in pain again, only this time weaker.

He laid his head on the warm leaves below, no longer caring about the cinders that burned his cheek. His vision started to blur more as he saw a sort of… Glowing white figure dancing across his vision. He giggled to himself in his delirium.

"brutal!"

his voice sounded like one of relief, his words wavered as pure came running to the figure on the floor. there was a large log squishing him against the ground, in which led pure to use his powers once more. his hands glowed a white hue, the same color surrounding the log. he strained, almost growling as he pushed the tree off him. perhaps it gave brutal some reassurance, but he was a mess — his legs seemed broken in places it shouldn't, he had gashes littering his body, creating a blood pool beneath him, he was overall drenched in the sticky crimson substance. one notable injury was the open piercing through his chest.

the scene alone brought tears to his eyes, falling to his knees beside the demon and bringing his hands to cup his face ever so carefully.

"how— what happened?" he asked frantically, that once calm and annoyed tone in his voice long gone, "stay with me, ami, s– stay with me here."

in the back of his mind he would pray; meanwhile he removed his white coat and press it onto his chest. he bit back his tears, not wanting to get them on brutal's skin. he was already bloodied and battered, the angel couldn't bare to see him in more pain. he looked around, and yet, all he could see was the blazing forest. the orange and yellow hues reflected in pure's teary eyes.

she looked back down to him, "don't go yet, okay? just stay with me, li– isten to the sound of my voice, brutal." her voice went soft, not wanting to let him hear her broken words and fearful tone. she would lean closer, tucking an arm beneath his neck so he wouldn't have to lay his head on the floor.

Brutal mumbled something incoherent, staring straight ahead with bleary eyes. It’s like he didn’t even notice Pure, rather focusing on what was behind him, it being something only he could see.

Though, he could feel his touch. He weakly tried to move away from Pure, unsure if he was friend or foe. He mumble something just barely audible. “No, no…”

He coughed and sputtered on the smoke in the air, his breathing coming out in short bursts. This was it for him, wasn’t it? Here, lying on the ground in a burning forest, someone that he probably didn’t know sitting next to him.

#OUGH 💔💔💔💔

TW for descriptive gore and character being reminded of past trauma.

Brutal stumbled his way through the foliage, blinding pushing his way through branches and bushes. His eyes were covered with blood, and he could barely see his way through the forest. All he could see, taste, smell—Blood. He could feel the heat of fire following his footsteps, and he wheezed as he breathed in the smoke.

The demon sped up his pace, though was obviously limping and, in general, in very bad condition. He collapsed against a tree, sliding down to the bottom and staring straight ahead. Through his blurry, blood-covered eyes, he could see the roaring flames reaching closer. He breathed heavily. He couldn’t be back here again.

He’d killed them all. They wouldn’t hurt him anymore. Were those trees starting to look like people? He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands. He could feel it all flooding back. His brain felt crowded. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to face it again.

@purityknives

during this — pure was in his cathedral, praying as he would. words he knew that meant nothing were whispered into the holy presence of the church. gloved hands were clasped together, prayer beads decorating slender digits like pearls around a woman's neck. carrying the weight of a fallen angel hung over him, taunting him of the days of what he once was. what he still could have been; if he hadn't made the wrong choice, hung around the wrong people.

closed eyes began to squeeze tighter, unwanted thoughts clouding his mind during prayer. his grasp tightening, hushed words speeding up before an abrupt stop. irises glowed a bright white hue momentarily as eyelids shot open. his breathing was shallow, his body tense and skin a little cold. he untangled his fingers from the beads, gaze trailing down to the cross on the object.

you did this, was what he wanted to say. you cursed me, you casted me aside. i am your creation and you threw me out like i meant nothing.

he heard a voice, no, was it voices? and the sound of fire in the back of his mind. it was odd. pure looked around the holy structure, seeing nothing out of place. the anxious feeling in his chest only grew, standing from his knees and stepping away from the altar. perhaps it was best to return to brutal, see if it was doing okay. with the flick of his fingers, a portal was created.

"dear god, show me where brutal is." the angel whispered beneath his breath. once again, those sounds of fire and screaming came to mind; but with it was an image. there was a burning forest, people screaming and scorched in the fire, and one person who ran. pure paid no mind to it, letting himself step into the portal.

Brutal tried to drown the screams out, stumbling back up to his feet again in hopes of finding someplace quieter. He didn’t care much about the fire, and probably didn’t even notice it at all. He only managed to run a few steps before crashing right into another tree. He couldn’t see a thing.

It felt pathetic. It was supposed to be feared by all—And it’d been reduced to nothing by a little fire. And, probably the giant gash in its chest that was gushing blood. Now he was just laying on the ground, glasses cracked and wounds bleeding. He stared up at the sky, and for an instant, he could see the stars between the clouds of smoke.

the warbling noises were barely audible from the crackling noises from the fire, and the distant screams. pure took a step onto the burnt flooring. eyes peered over the environment, the heat bringing a layer of sweat to his skin. the portal closed behind him once he stepped out completely, his head slowly turning and taking in the scorched forest. a frown appears on his features; he feels like he's been here before.

he strayed away from the fire, not wanting to get burnt or harmed tonight. his eyes drifted from various trees, smelling blood on them. he wondered if brutal caused this, who couldn't escape the forest flames, who died in to his claws.

the smell of ichor only grew stronger, leading pure to follow the scent — in hopes of leading somewhere. in hopes that this blood wasn't brutal's. but as the angel drew closer, the scent grew stronger, became familiar. it was his.

he picked up his speed, running from both the fire and after the scent. but all these trees looked the same, the blood was heavy, it was everywhere. pure looked around frantically, blue hues shimmering with worry and visible panic.

"brutal!" he called out, pushing past branches and burnt leaves. he had to cover his mouth, in order to not choke from the smoke around him, "mon dieu, where are you?!"

Brutal thought that he distantly heard someone calling his name, but he was beginning to lose coherency as his vision kept blurring in and out. He glanced up as he heard a loud cracking sound, and the tree in front of him seemed to be getting mysteriously closer.

“Shit—“ Brutal still had enough consciousness left in him to roll out of the way before the tree crushed him, but unfortunately, his legs were caught underneath the burning wood. He let out a cry of pain, trying (and failing) to pull himself forward and out from under the tree. His legs were likely broken beyond repair, now.

He grunted, feeling the air suddenly getting harder and harder to breathe in. He stared ahead blearily, and saw what looked like a base in the distance. A BLU Base. Like it was mocking him.

as much as pure wanted to bring his wings out and fly above the forest, there was no clear opening for him to do so. it was then he heard a tree cracking, then a loud scream. he followed after it, running after the voice. no, he knew this was him. between the cries and wails of agony overwhelming the angel, this was the only one he could identify.

"brutal! brutal!!" he called out, coughing as he inhaled some smoke. his eyelids were squinted, the ashes and the hot air stinging his eyes. he had an arm in front of his face, groaning from the smell of burning flesh.

"god, i pray to you, please tell me he's okay." he whispered to himself, weaving through trees and slipping under fallen logs, "please let him be okay. please, god, please."

but praying could only get him so far, and he knew that himself. there was only so much pure could ask from the very god that threw him out of heaven. his eyes began to water from the stinging sensation, needing to wipe them away in order to get a clear vision of his path. he even used his powers to push burning wood out of his way.

"brutal!! where are you?!"

Brutal stared ahead at the BLU Base. It had some sort of dark energy surrounding it, like the building itself was alive and here to swallow him whole. It didn’t help that he could still hear whoever that was calling his name. Were they here to hurt him?

He pushed himself up to try and stand up, but immediately regretted that decision when a harsh spike of pain shot through his legs. He cried out in pain again, only this time weaker.

He laid his head on the warm leaves below, no longer caring about the cinders that burned his cheek. His vision started to blur more as he saw a sort of… Glowing white figure dancing across his vision. He giggled to himself in his delirium.

#come get ya boy!!!

TW for descriptive gore and character being reminded of past trauma.

Brutal stumbled his way through the foliage, blinding pushing his way through branches and bushes. His eyes were covered with blood, and he could barely see his way through the forest. All he could see, taste, smell—Blood. He could feel the heat of fire following his footsteps, and he wheezed as he breathed in the smoke.

The demon sped up his pace, though was obviously limping and, in general, in very bad condition. He collapsed against a tree, sliding down to the bottom and staring straight ahead. Through his blurry, blood-covered eyes, he could see the roaring flames reaching closer. He breathed heavily. He couldn’t be back here again.

He’d killed them all. They wouldn’t hurt him anymore. Were those trees starting to look like people? He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands. He could feel it all flooding back. His brain felt crowded. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to face it again.

@purityknives

during this — pure was in his cathedral, praying as he would. words he knew that meant nothing were whispered into the holy presence of the church. gloved hands were clasped together, prayer beads decorating slender digits like pearls around a woman's neck. carrying the weight of a fallen angel hung over him, taunting him of the days of what he once was. what he still could have been; if he hadn't made the wrong choice, hung around the wrong people.

closed eyes began to squeeze tighter, unwanted thoughts clouding his mind during prayer. his grasp tightening, hushed words speeding up before an abrupt stop. irises glowed a bright white hue momentarily as eyelids shot open. his breathing was shallow, his body tense and skin a little cold. he untangled his fingers from the beads, gaze trailing down to the cross on the object.

you did this, was what he wanted to say. you cursed me, you casted me aside. i am your creation and you threw me out like i meant nothing.

he heard a voice, no, was it voices? and the sound of fire in the back of his mind. it was odd. pure looked around the holy structure, seeing nothing out of place. the anxious feeling in his chest only grew, standing from his knees and stepping away from the altar. perhaps it was best to return to brutal, see if it was doing okay. with the flick of his fingers, a portal was created.

"dear god, show me where brutal is." the angel whispered beneath his breath. once again, those sounds of fire and screaming came to mind; but with it was an image. there was a burning forest, people screaming and scorched in the fire, and one person who ran. pure paid no mind to it, letting himself step into the portal.

Brutal tried to drown the screams out, stumbling back up to his feet again in hopes of finding someplace quieter. He didn’t care much about the fire, and probably didn’t even notice it at all. He only managed to run a few steps before crashing right into another tree. He couldn’t see a thing.

It felt pathetic. It was supposed to be feared by all—And it’d been reduced to nothing by a little fire. And, probably the giant gash in its chest that was gushing blood. Now he was just laying on the ground, glasses cracked and wounds bleeding. He stared up at the sky, and for an instant, he could see the stars between the clouds of smoke.

the warbling noises were barely audible from the crackling noises from the fire, and the distant screams. pure took a step onto the burnt flooring. eyes peered over the environment, the heat bringing a layer of sweat to his skin. the portal closed behind him once he stepped out completely, his head slowly turning and taking in the scorched forest. a frown appears on his features; he feels like he's been here before.

he strayed away from the fire, not wanting to get burnt or harmed tonight. his eyes drifted from various trees, smelling blood on them. he wondered if brutal caused this, who couldn't escape the forest flames, who died in to his claws.

the smell of ichor only grew stronger, leading pure to follow the scent — in hopes of leading somewhere. in hopes that this blood wasn't brutal's. but as the angel drew closer, the scent grew stronger, became familiar. it was his.

he picked up his speed, running from both the fire and after the scent. but all these trees looked the same, the blood was heavy, it was everywhere. pure looked around frantically, blue hues shimmering with worry and visible panic.

"brutal!" he called out, pushing past branches and burnt leaves. he had to cover his mouth, in order to not choke from the smoke around him, "mon dieu, where are you?!"

Brutal thought that he distantly heard someone calling his name, but he was beginning to lose coherency as his vision kept blurring in and out. He glanced up as he heard a loud cracking sound, and the tree in front of him seemed to be getting mysteriously closer.

“Shit—“ Brutal still had enough consciousness left in him to roll out of the way before the tree crushed him, but unfortunately, his legs were caught underneath the burning wood. He let out a cry of pain, trying (and failing) to pull himself forward and out from under the tree. His legs were likely broken beyond repair, now.

He grunted, feeling the air suddenly getting harder and harder to breathe in. He stared ahead blearily, and saw what looked like a base in the distance. A BLU Base. Like it was mocking him.

#brutal is still alive atm but he won’t be for long #also the BLU base is a hallucination

TW for descriptive gore and character being reminded of past trauma.

Brutal stumbled his way through the foliage, blinding pushing his way through branches and bushes. His eyes were covered with blood, and he could barely see his way through the forest. All he could see, taste, smell—Blood. He could feel the heat of fire following his footsteps, and he wheezed as he breathed in the smoke.

The demon sped up his pace, though was obviously limping and, in general, in very bad condition. He collapsed against a tree, sliding down to the bottom and staring straight ahead. Through his blurry, blood-covered eyes, he could see the roaring flames reaching closer. He breathed heavily. He couldn’t be back here again.

He’d killed them all. They wouldn’t hurt him anymore. Were those trees starting to look like people? He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands. He could feel it all flooding back. His brain felt crowded. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to face it again.

@purityknives

during this — pure was in his cathedral, praying as he would. words he knew that meant nothing were whispered into the holy presence of the church. gloved hands were clasped together, prayer beads decorating slender digits like pearls around a woman's neck. carrying the weight of a fallen angel hung over him, taunting him of the days of what he once was. what he still could have been; if he hadn't made the wrong choice, hung around the wrong people.

closed eyes began to squeeze tighter, unwanted thoughts clouding his mind during prayer. his grasp tightening, hushed words speeding up before an abrupt stop. irises glowed a bright white hue momentarily as eyelids shot open. his breathing was shallow, his body tense and skin a little cold. he untangled his fingers from the beads, gaze trailing down to the cross on the object.

you did this, was what he wanted to say. you cursed me, you casted me aside. i am your creation and you threw me out like i meant nothing.

he heard a voice, no, was it voices? and the sound of fire in the back of his mind. it was odd. pure looked around the holy structure, seeing nothing out of place. the anxious feeling in his chest only grew, standing from his knees and stepping away from the altar. perhaps it was best to return to brutal, see if it was doing okay. with the flick of his fingers, a portal was created.

"dear god, show me where brutal is." the angel whispered beneath his breath. once again, those sounds of fire and screaming came to mind; but with it was an image. there was a burning forest, people screaming and scorched in the fire, and one person who ran. pure paid no mind to it, letting himself step into the portal.

Brutal tried to drown the screams out, stumbling back up to his feet again in hopes of finding someplace quieter. He didn’t care much about the fire, and probably didn’t even notice it at all. He only managed to run a few steps before crashing right into another tree. He couldn’t see a thing.

It felt pathetic. It was supposed to be feared by all—And it’d been reduced to nothing by a little fire. And, probably the giant gash in its chest that was gushing blood. Now he was just laying on the ground, glasses cracked and wounds bleeding. He stared up at the sky, and for an instant, he could see the stars between the clouds of smoke.

#jumps off a cliff #/silly

TW for descriptive gore and character being reminded of past trauma.

Brutal stumbled his way through the foliage, blinding pushing his way through branches and bushes. His eyes were covered with blood, and he could barely see his way through the forest. All he could see, taste, smell—Blood. He could feel the heat of fire following his footsteps, and he wheezed as he breathed in the smoke.

The demon sped up his pace, though was obviously limping and, in general, in very bad condition. He collapsed against a tree, sliding down to the bottom and staring straight ahead. Through his blurry, blood-covered eyes, he could see the roaring flames reaching closer. He breathed heavily. He couldn’t be back here again.

He’d killed them all. They wouldn’t hurt him anymore. Were those trees starting to look like people? He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands. He could feel it all flooding back. His brain felt crowded. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to face it again.

@purityknives

#been a while since ive written angst #it emotionally destroyed me to write this

Warning: (Possibly) graphic descriptions of violence and g0re!!!

Brutal stood still in an open wheat field, the evening wind ruffling his hair where his hat no longer laid. Nearly his entire body was drenched in blood, the aviators that he once saw through now covered in a curtain of red. He couldn’t see anything, and frankly, he was glad.

The ground was stained red, and a body lay below where Brutal was standing. They were barely recognizable anymore, their head nearly decapitated off of their body, and their inner organs visible. Brutal was used to this kind of violence; He lived for it. But it wasn’t as rewarding when it was a bad day for him.

Memories of the past. Of what happened to him before he became who he is. He becomes bloodthirsty when he thinks too hard about it, or is forcefully reminded of it, but no matter who he kills because of it, he feels empty. He’ll never get the chance to kill someone who’d hurt him immensely again, and he sure isn’t going to look for someone to do so.

Brutal stared down at where he knew the body was. He wrapped his arms around himself, ignoring the feeling of blood sticking to his already-drenched arms. Everything was silent.

#i tried smth new with this one #i looove writing character study stuff

what do you even get from still being around me?

what do i give you that’s worth keeping me for?

will anything ever feel normal again?

opening a portal, out stepped through — a fatigued and bloody pure. this is quite the unusual attire for the saint. it wasn't often that he killed on his own, for heavens sake he didn't kill at all!

closing the portal he sighs, sticky ichor glued to his balaclava and crimson colors staining his white clothing. he always hated the feeling that came after.

It wasn’t unusual for the madman to be drawn to any scent of blood, godly or not. He could practically smell it from miles away—Though he only showed up to sources of heavy bloodshed.

Either way, Brutal was drawn to any kind of holy aura—Mainly because Pure was the only divine being he knew.

“You look like shit.” He remarked, standing close by from Pure. His arms were crossed, his kukris left in their leather holding cases on his back.

it was always a delightful sight to see brutal, a weak and forced smile momentarily appearing on his battered expression. he sniffled, unsure if the blood at his nose was his own or not.

"thank you," he answered sarcastically, "i would assume so, considering i am drenched in blood."

pure took a couple wobbly steps forward, looking as if he was about to pass out. he was very low on energy, after using up so much of his powers during his little kill frenzy just minutes ago.

"i should be fine, though." he lied, moving past brutal in search for something to lean against. even his vision was fading in and out of darkness.

Brutal’s brow furrowed as he watched Pure stumble, and he moved his hands forward to grab onto his suit, in an attempt to keep him from falling over.

“Careful, now.” It’s voice was full of worry, a drastic change from how it’d been just moments ago.

Of course, he didn’t believe one bit that Pure “should be fine”. He stood next to him, allowing him to lean on him for support.

groaning, the angel latches onto brutal – accidentally smearing some blood onto his clothes. he breathes out heavily, hazy eyes drifting to the one holding him up. truthfully, if it weren't for him, pure would've already fell over.

"i said i'm f— fine." he was always so stubborn, but still grasped onto him like his life depended on it, "juste un peu fatigué. it won't hurt me."

pure looked as if he could pass out at any given moment, but used the remaining amount if energy he had in him to make it seem like he was alright — that he wasn't nauseated from the smell on his body, that he wasn't disgusted by his own actions ... his own killings. clearly his abilities can only get him so far.

“You don’t look fine, mate.” Brutal snorted, trying to bring some humor to the situation, as feeble as it was. He put one arm around Pure’s waist, and used the other to steady him from the front.

Brutal didn’t mind the blood getting all over his clothes. In fact, he probably would’ve enjoyed it—If it wasn’t for the semi-dire situation.

“Where d’ya live? I’m not leavin’ you here to bleed out, immortal or not.” He spoke with slight harshness, but he wanted to make it clear that he wouldn’t be giving up on her.

"live?" she asked weakly, using the last bits of her energy to remember any base or home that this mortal vessel resided in before her.

the angel laughed dryly, trying to come up with something to say, "i don't have a place that i live in, ami. not a permanent place."

it was .. partially true. the memories that came with this body didn't have any recollection of having a home. that, and she was just kicked out of heaven just hours prior. clearly, pure isn't going to tell it all of that. not yet of course. she was getting tired, she needed a place to lay down and rest. unfortunately, she chose a body that was near death; which added onto the fatigue and exhaustion.

”Dammit…” He grumbled something to himself. Neither of them had anyplace safe to stay, then? That’s fine. He could work with this. Everything is fine.

Making sure to not walk too quickly to make her fall over, Brutal started to guide him towards what he hoped was a better place to rest. Even a forest could work, if he found a good spot of moss to put Pure down in.

“How’d you even end up like this, anyway? And what happened to your clothes?” As his panic started to wear off slightly, he became increasingly aware of how… Odd she looked. Out of all things, the last thing Brutal expected was for someone like Gentlespy to wear something of a priest uniform.

"caught in a crossfire. eh, lots of explosions and other not so important stuff." she answered quickly, breathing growing ragged, "and my clothes? well i was..."

that, pure didn't necessarily have a clear answer to. fuck. think of something, anything!

"burning, oui. my clothes caught on fire and i had to take them off before i got burnt myself. it's a long story for another— urgh, another day." the sentient angel had a limp, taking note of the bullet wound in her knee. all wounds, bruises, cuts, anything that was bleeding out of her — was sure to be fixed in time, thanks to her powers.

but, with her powers having been drained after taking over gentlespy's body, she couldn't exactly do that.

“So, what, the fight was in a church or something?” Brutal chuckled lightly. He could see what looked like a graveyard in the distance, and hopefully he could find a bench or something. He hoped nobody would be there, and there surely wouldn’t, considering it was the middle of the night. Only weirdos like himself would be wandering around a graveyard at night.

He decided not to prod the other with questions anymore, considering his current state. So he walked on in silence, making sure that Spy wouldn’t face-plant into the ground.

It wasn’t long before they made it to the graveyard area. As there were no benches in sight, he did the next best thing—Rest Spy right against a gravestone.

"sssomething like that, sure." he barely answered, his voice making it clear that pure was struggling to stay conscious.

the angel didn't mind their current surroundings, it was definitely much better than the one he found himself in when he woke up. he allowed brutal to lay him down against a gravestone, his head leaning against the stone behind him.

a wavered sigh left him, blue eyes staring up at the inky blue sky. where they were at, there were many different clusters of stars and constellations he could see. pure's never seen the stars from earth, this would be his first time. in heaven it was always bright, and it never turned dark enough to see any kinda of stars like this.

"ma bonté, is the night sky always this beautiful?"

Brutal frowned, glancing up at the sky. He had to admit, it did look pretty beautiful. “…I guess?”

He grew more worried by the second. “Don’t pass out on me, mate. Focus on me.” He knelt down next to Pure, rummaging through his pockets. He sometimes kept some sort of healing equipment on him, but it was rare that he ever encountered anyone who needed help—Nor anyone that he would willingly help. Not to mention, he rarely ever bothered treating himself, usually leaving it up to Gentlespy.

“Shit…” He grumbled. There was nothing of use in his pockets, besides an extra knife and a bent paperclip. Brutal did tend to bury his things around places, maybe he’d buried some medicine supplies around here…

“Stay right here, alright? Don’t fall asleep. I’ll be right back.” He stood up quickly. The last thing he wanted was to waste any time.

another dry chuckle, listening to brutal's words. from the memories he collected of this body, who this used to be; they seemed to be good friends, or work partners. it was a little tragic, but the angel tried to look past that.

"non, ami." pure whispered, grabbing its wrist in a weak grasp. he smiled up to it, in attempts to reassure him. but, making out his expression, he really did seem worried. did he look that bloody and beaten?

all he needed was a quick nap. it wasn't like he was going to die, no. he could heal all these wounds and bruises up himself, but of course ... his energy to use those angelic powers were drained completely by now. as much as pure wanted to close his eyes, he listened to brutal. that, and he didn't want to give the other a heart attack.

"i told you i'm fine." his hand slipped away from its wrist, falling to his lap. sapphire irises swayed between brutal's face and the stars above. he was really fighting to keep his eyes open now.

“No, you’re not fine.” Brutal huffed in annoyance. He squeezed Pure’s hand in reassurance, before moving away.

Brutal looked around the graveyard for any spots he might’ve buried something. He made extra sure not to stray too far from Pure, not wanting him to pass out the moment he was out of sight.

It wasn’t long before he found a spot of dirt in front of an old grave. It was recent, he could remember burying it just a few days ago. He dug it up with his claws, ignoring the coffin at the bottom for the items he had placed on top of it. Dusting it off, Brutal pulled a medical kit out of the hole. He didn’t bother to cover it back up before returning to Pure’s side.

He took the gauze out of the medical kit and pressed it against Pure’s wounds. He didn’t have much medical experience, and was mainly going off of what he remembered Gentlespy doing.

he watched brutal quietly, until he saw him digging up a grave. or, that's what he assumed. his expression faded into one of concern and genuine confusion. pure even had to blink a few times to make sure he was seeing this right.

the exhausted angel was going to protest again, opening his mouth to speak — before he came back with a medkit in his hands, or claws. or even paws. he was too tired to make out what they were.

feeling gauze and force being pressed against a wound. she hissed, fingernails digging into her leg from the sheer pain. she made a face of discomfort, pressing her head on the gravestone behind her. this definitely woke her up, giving her the time to examine brutal up close without a foggy vision of him.

"where—- hhssss, where did you even find that?" pure asked, her breaths quick. her gaze followed up his arm, then to his attire, facials ... legs, horns, sharp canines. could she be dealing with a demon, right now? none of the memories recollected much about brutal being a demon, only that he was a close friend. that was all.

pure decided to not mention it, and instead allowed brutal to tend to her wounds. she believed it hurt more having someone else treat her injuries - that were apparently fatal, rather than taking care of them herself. but, she didn't complain. she was thankful he even found her in the first place.

Brutal was silent, taking antibiotic ointment out of the medical kit and putting it over the others wounds. He made sure not to press too hard, not wanting to put Spy through more pain than she was already in.

“Hole.” He answered her question flatly. After finishing applying the antibiotics, he took a roll of bandages out of the kit and started wrapping it around the areas where the wounds were.

“Alright, that should do it. ‘Re you good to walk?” He looked back up at Pure’s face, meeting her eyes. That’s odd. Were her eyes always blue? He vividly remembered them being green. Eh, probably a trick of the moonlight.

she felt a little better, despite her powers being drained. a shrug followed after his words, pressing her palms against the grass floor. she looked over the now patched up injuries, tilting her head. how did he find medical supplies in a random hole? thinking about it, she shouldn't question it.

"uh," she trailed off quietly, glancing back to brutal, "i should be. i would like to get some proper sleep eventually, though."

the fallen angel pushed herself onto her feet, a hand of hers using the gravestone as support to hold her up. she took a couple deep exhales through her lips, still trying to familiarize herself with her surroundings — with earth itself.

"merci, mon ami." pure added, sharing a brief smile to the other before her attention was dragged up to the stars and the moon once more. she was really drawn to them, seeing them for the first time was very surreal. perhaps if it weren't for the predicament she was in - this would be more enjoyable. maybe she could even fly up and touch the sky one night.

Brutal looked at her for a long moment. Something definitely felt… Off. Gentlespy would never discard his hat, even in a life or death situation, and he certainly wouldn’t wear white either if it was the last clothing option in Earth. Maybe Brutal’s tiredness was finally getting to him, and he was overthinking again. That didn’t matter. He should focus on getting Spy someplace to rest.

”I think I remember the town from a bit ago being nearby. We can head there, get you a place to rest.” Brutal returned to Spy’s side, wrapping an arm around her waist to help keep her steady. He decided not to mention that said town was one he’d massacred not even a week ago, of course assuming that his Spy friend already knew that.

"right, okay. shouldn't be too far then, non?" pure nodded, letting the other hold her up and steady on her feet. it still hurt a little to walk, but it wasn't as intense as earlier. though, some fatigue did remain.

unfortunately, it was only memorable highlights the angel could recall on. any small or recent memories were foggy and unclear. what he could remember with ease, were what he assumed to be gentlespy's core memories. things such as moments with brutal, trauma, important information, and so on. it was almost like they became his own, but clearly, pure knew that they weren't.

walking alongside it, he could feel his eyelids growing heavy — exhaustion getting to him, and even making his head hurt a little. back in heaven, pure didn't really feel these things. he assumed it was the mortal body adjusting to ... the holy and eldritch being that he was.

entering the town, it seemed obvious that it was now a ghost town. nothing but the sounds of natures ambience and cool wind could be heard. not to mention; the bodies scattering the streets, the ichor decorating the walls in various splatters. it would've made him sick, but being so drained, he couldn't find it in him to pay attention to the details.

Brutal brought Pure into one of the houses, where they were immediately greeted by three bodies strewn across the ground, all stabbed through the chest. “I’ll clean those up later.” He said casually, before helping Pure into what he assumed was the bedroom.

The lamp inside the room was turned off, and there were a few random knickknacks all over the bedside table. The drawer of the table was pulled open, where an unused gun was sitting inside, but it was clear that the person didn’t get much time to use it. Aside from that, the room looked pretty normal compared to the carnage in the rest of the house.

The bed still looked alright enough to sleep in, so Brutal helped Pure lie down. He quickly made sure that no bugs were hiding in the mattress, before grinning a sharp-toothed smile at Pure. “Rest well. I’ll get you some new clothes and such.”

He hummed quietly to himself as he exited the room, now going to dispose of the bodies in the living room.

usually, immortal archangels such as pure didn't need to sleep. of course they would meditate or take long rests from time to time to regenerate their energy, but not necessarily sleep. but in order to properly function, as any mortal would, he needed to get some shut eye. along with gaining energy for his powers back.

a soft "thank you" could be heard from pure, laid down upon the bed on his back. he couldn't comfortably shift or turn in the mattress; due to his injuries. so he just rested there for a couple minutes, staring up at the popcorn ceiling.

in the period before pure properly fell asleep, he listened to brutal walk around the house — the footsteps against bloodied floorboards and the sound of heavy bodies being dragged somewhere further away. he would normally feel disgusted or petrified to be in a home where there were dead bodies in the main room—- if anything, to be in a whole town full of dead citizens, for heavens sake!

no, not now at least. he felt glad. relieved. thankful. he could still be at the site where pure woke up in originally, but he wasn't. he managed to find, not his but, gentlespy's closest friend; and because of that, was decently patched up and taken somewhere to rest up. that was the last thing he thought of before finally giving into the temptation of delightful slumber.

Brutal made quick work of the bodies, dumping them in a pile outside where they would be out of sight from any windows. Walking back inside, he smiled softly at the satisfying sound of his hooves clicking against the floorboards.

He took a rag from the kitchen and started to clean the blood off of the floor. It only took about 10 minutes, before he stood up and stretched. Disposing of the rag, Brutal went over to the bedroom to check up on Pure.

He chuckled to himself when he saw that she hadn’t pulled up the covers, so he decided to do it for her. Once he made sure that she was comfortable under the blanket, he left the room.

He wouldn’t mind sleeping on the couch, just for tonight.

soft snores left the sleeping angel throughout the night, only shifting in the bed a few times to get more comfortable. even into the morning as the sun arose, and various birds sang — more specifically nightingales, pure slept like the dead. not that she was actually dead, it was just the best sleep she's ever gotten for the first time.

some stray hair tufts poked out of her mask, her rested expression calm and pressed against soft sheets. she was curled up around the soft pillow she held, some drool hanging from the side of her mouth. she even had some lines pressed into her skin from the bedsheets and pillows.

after a full night's rest, and some hours into the morning, her energy was restored. her powers were back to normal; even her wounds were perfectly healed up. any major injuries left just a scar. everything else had closed up over night, thanks to her powers regenerating.

On a chair in the bedroom, Brutal had left some new clothes for her to wear—A RED Spy suit, customary to Gentlespy’s liking. There was also a hat placed on top of it, though it looked very ripped up and bloodied. Brutal had likely hunted it down from the very place Spy was attacked.

Brutal was walking around the house, in the process of making breakfast for the both of them. His tail swayed as he hummed to himself, currently flipping pancakes. They looked a bit moldy, but surely nobody would notice. He cursed to himself as he accidentally dropped the pan with a loud CRASH, the pancakes now left to the floorboards.

He grumbled in annoyance as he threw away the pancakes. If it was him, he’d have just eaten them off of the ground, but he intended on making this breakfast for his Spy friend. He sighed in defeat and instead went searching for a cereal box.

the crash was what led pure to waking up. she didn't jolt out of bed, but rose her head from the pillows. a groan, and some mumbles in french - or whatever language she knew of. the angel rubbed her eyes, as she used a leg to slowly push the covers off her body. she felt very well rested, sitting up in the bed and taking a quick look at her surroundings.

right, they were in some abandoned dead family's house.

there were some angel feathers littering the bed, in which pure just quickly brushed them off and under the mattress. sapphire hues fell onto the chair with the new clothes. his eyes narrowed, pulling himself out of bed and approaching the chair. he didn't really need new clothes, or a hat. he believed he looked just fine! ...if he ignored the dried up blood splotches on his suit.

so he changed, clad in a fresh red suit fit for his wear. the only thing is, pure would change the color to white — and decided not to wear the hat. something more to his liking. not that he didn't want to wear the hat, he believed he didn't look best in hats. perhaps he'll throw the other outfit in the laundry if given the time.

walking out of the bedroom, from what he could remember from last night; the house looked much cleaner from when they first arrived. even the floors were cleaned of any remaining blood. sure, there was a lingering iron smell, but, he didn't mind. he reached in his pocket, finding a lighter and some cigarettes. oh, he knows what these are. it was one of the things that got him kicked out of heaven.

lighting a cigarette and stepping into the kitchen, "is there anything to eat this morning?"

”Was gonna be pancakes, but I’m deciding on cereal.” Brutal replied, not looking at Pure as he fished a cereal box out of a nearby cabinet. He took a bowl out of another cabinet, but all that poured out of the cereal box was dust and a few bugs.

He looked up at Pure and smiled, before faltering. “Did you clean your clothes? You know, I gave you new clothes.” He said, tossing the cereal box away. He continued to search for any more food in the house.

Something definitely felt off about Spy. Not only did the blood spots on his suit miraculously disappear (he didn’t remember seeing a washing machine anywhere), but he seemed… Fine. Finer than he should be after taking a beating like he did last night. There were definitely many mysterious things about Gentlespy, but these were supposed to be things he could easily decipher.

#hes gonna catch on soon…#ruh roh

opening a portal, out stepped through — a fatigued and bloody pure. this is quite the unusual attire for the saint. it wasn't often that he killed on his own, for heavens sake he didn't kill at all!

closing the portal he sighs, sticky ichor glued to his balaclava and crimson colors staining his white clothing. he always hated the feeling that came after.

It wasn’t unusual for the madman to be drawn to any scent of blood, godly or not. He could practically smell it from miles away—Though he only showed up to sources of heavy bloodshed.

Either way, Brutal was drawn to any kind of holy aura—Mainly because Pure was the only divine being he knew.

“You look like shit.” He remarked, standing close by from Pure. His arms were crossed, his kukris left in their leather holding cases on his back.

it was always a delightful sight to see brutal, a weak and forced smile momentarily appearing on his battered expression. he sniffled, unsure if the blood at his nose was his own or not.

"thank you," he answered sarcastically, "i would assume so, considering i am drenched in blood."

pure took a couple wobbly steps forward, looking as if he was about to pass out. he was very low on energy, after using up so much of his powers during his little kill frenzy just minutes ago.

"i should be fine, though." he lied, moving past brutal in search for something to lean against. even his vision was fading in and out of darkness.

Brutal’s brow furrowed as he watched Pure stumble, and he moved his hands forward to grab onto his suit, in an attempt to keep him from falling over.

“Careful, now.” It’s voice was full of worry, a drastic change from how it’d been just moments ago.

Of course, he didn’t believe one bit that Pure “should be fine”. He stood next to him, allowing him to lean on him for support.

groaning, the angel latches onto brutal – accidentally smearing some blood onto his clothes. he breathes out heavily, hazy eyes drifting to the one holding him up. truthfully, if it weren't for him, pure would've already fell over.

"i said i'm f— fine." he was always so stubborn, but still grasped onto him like his life depended on it, "juste un peu fatigué. it won't hurt me."

pure looked as if he could pass out at any given moment, but used the remaining amount if energy he had in him to make it seem like he was alright — that he wasn't nauseated from the smell on his body, that he wasn't disgusted by his own actions ... his own killings. clearly his abilities can only get him so far.

“You don’t look fine, mate.” Brutal snorted, trying to bring some humor to the situation, as feeble as it was. He put one arm around Pure’s waist, and used the other to steady him from the front.

Brutal didn’t mind the blood getting all over his clothes. In fact, he probably would’ve enjoyed it—If it wasn’t for the semi-dire situation.

“Where d’ya live? I’m not leavin’ you here to bleed out, immortal or not.” He spoke with slight harshness, but he wanted to make it clear that he wouldn’t be giving up on her.

"live?" she asked weakly, using the last bits of her energy to remember any base or home that this mortal vessel resided in before her.

the angel laughed dryly, trying to come up with something to say, "i don't have a place that i live in, ami. not a permanent place."

it was .. partially true. the memories that came with this body didn't have any recollection of having a home. that, and she was just kicked out of heaven just hours prior. clearly, pure isn't going to tell it all of that. not yet of course. she was getting tired, she needed a place to lay down and rest. unfortunately, she chose a body that was near death; which added onto the fatigue and exhaustion.

”Dammit…” He grumbled something to himself. Neither of them had anyplace safe to stay, then? That’s fine. He could work with this. Everything is fine.

Making sure to not walk too quickly to make her fall over, Brutal started to guide him towards what he hoped was a better place to rest. Even a forest could work, if he found a good spot of moss to put Pure down in.

“How’d you even end up like this, anyway? And what happened to your clothes?” As his panic started to wear off slightly, he became increasingly aware of how… Odd she looked. Out of all things, the last thing Brutal expected was for someone like Gentlespy to wear something of a priest uniform.

"caught in a crossfire. eh, lots of explosions and other not so important stuff." she answered quickly, breathing growing ragged, "and my clothes? well i was..."

that, pure didn't necessarily have a clear answer to. fuck. think of something, anything!

"burning, oui. my clothes caught on fire and i had to take them off before i got burnt myself. it's a long story for another— urgh, another day." the sentient angel had a limp, taking note of the bullet wound in her knee. all wounds, bruises, cuts, anything that was bleeding out of her — was sure to be fixed in time, thanks to her powers.

but, with her powers having been drained after taking over gentlespy's body, she couldn't exactly do that.

“So, what, the fight was in a church or something?” Brutal chuckled lightly. He could see what looked like a graveyard in the distance, and hopefully he could find a bench or something. He hoped nobody would be there, and there surely wouldn’t, considering it was the middle of the night. Only weirdos like himself would be wandering around a graveyard at night.

He decided not to prod the other with questions anymore, considering his current state. So he walked on in silence, making sure that Spy wouldn’t face-plant into the ground.

It wasn’t long before they made it to the graveyard area. As there were no benches in sight, he did the next best thing—Rest Spy right against a gravestone.

"sssomething like that, sure." he barely answered, his voice making it clear that pure was struggling to stay conscious.

the angel didn't mind their current surroundings, it was definitely much better than the one he found himself in when he woke up. he allowed brutal to lay him down against a gravestone, his head leaning against the stone behind him.

a wavered sigh left him, blue eyes staring up at the inky blue sky. where they were at, there were many different clusters of stars and constellations he could see. pure's never seen the stars from earth, this would be his first time. in heaven it was always bright, and it never turned dark enough to see any kinda of stars like this.

"ma bonté, is the night sky always this beautiful?"

Brutal frowned, glancing up at the sky. He had to admit, it did look pretty beautiful. “…I guess?”

He grew more worried by the second. “Don’t pass out on me, mate. Focus on me.” He knelt down next to Pure, rummaging through his pockets. He sometimes kept some sort of healing equipment on him, but it was rare that he ever encountered anyone who needed help—Nor anyone that he would willingly help. Not to mention, he rarely ever bothered treating himself, usually leaving it up to Gentlespy.

“Shit…” He grumbled. There was nothing of use in his pockets, besides an extra knife and a bent paperclip. Brutal did tend to bury his things around places, maybe he’d buried some medicine supplies around here…

“Stay right here, alright? Don’t fall asleep. I’ll be right back.” He stood up quickly. The last thing he wanted was to waste any time.

another dry chuckle, listening to brutal's words. from the memories he collected of this body, who this used to be; they seemed to be good friends, or work partners. it was a little tragic, but the angel tried to look past that.

"non, ami." pure whispered, grabbing its wrist in a weak grasp. he smiled up to it, in attempts to reassure him. but, making out his expression, he really did seem worried. did he look that bloody and beaten?

all he needed was a quick nap. it wasn't like he was going to die, no. he could heal all these wounds and bruises up himself, but of course ... his energy to use those angelic powers were drained completely by now. as much as pure wanted to close his eyes, he listened to brutal. that, and he didn't want to give the other a heart attack.

"i told you i'm fine." his hand slipped away from its wrist, falling to his lap. sapphire irises swayed between brutal's face and the stars above. he was really fighting to keep his eyes open now.

“No, you’re not fine.” Brutal huffed in annoyance. He squeezed Pure’s hand in reassurance, before moving away.

Brutal looked around the graveyard for any spots he might’ve buried something. He made extra sure not to stray too far from Pure, not wanting him to pass out the moment he was out of sight.

It wasn’t long before he found a spot of dirt in front of an old grave. It was recent, he could remember burying it just a few days ago. He dug it up with his claws, ignoring the coffin at the bottom for the items he had placed on top of it. Dusting it off, Brutal pulled a medical kit out of the hole. He didn’t bother to cover it back up before returning to Pure’s side.

He took the gauze out of the medical kit and pressed it against Pure’s wounds. He didn’t have much medical experience, and was mainly going off of what he remembered Gentlespy doing.

he watched brutal quietly, until he saw him digging up a grave. or, that's what he assumed. his expression faded into one of concern and genuine confusion. pure even had to blink a few times to make sure he was seeing this right.

the exhausted angel was going to protest again, opening his mouth to speak — before he came back with a medkit in his hands, or claws. or even paws. he was too tired to make out what they were.

feeling gauze and force being pressed against a wound. she hissed, fingernails digging into her leg from the sheer pain. she made a face of discomfort, pressing her head on the gravestone behind her. this definitely woke her up, giving her the time to examine brutal up close without a foggy vision of him.

"where—- hhssss, where did you even find that?" pure asked, her breaths quick. her gaze followed up his arm, then to his attire, facials ... legs, horns, sharp canines. could she be dealing with a demon, right now? none of the memories recollected much about brutal being a demon, only that he was a close friend. that was all.

pure decided to not mention it, and instead allowed brutal to tend to her wounds. she believed it hurt more having someone else treat her injuries - that were apparently fatal, rather than taking care of them herself. but, she didn't complain. she was thankful he even found her in the first place.

Brutal was silent, taking antibiotic ointment out of the medical kit and putting it over the others wounds. He made sure not to press too hard, not wanting to put Spy through more pain than she was already in.

“Hole.” He answered her question flatly. After finishing applying the antibiotics, he took a roll of bandages out of the kit and started wrapping it around the areas where the wounds were.

“Alright, that should do it. ‘Re you good to walk?” He looked back up at Pure’s face, meeting her eyes. That’s odd. Were her eyes always blue? He vividly remembered them being green. Eh, probably a trick of the moonlight.

she felt a little better, despite her powers being drained. a shrug followed after his words, pressing her palms against the grass floor. she looked over the now patched up injuries, tilting her head. how did he find medical supplies in a random hole? thinking about it, she shouldn't question it.

"uh," she trailed off quietly, glancing back to brutal, "i should be. i would like to get some proper sleep eventually, though."

the fallen angel pushed herself onto her feet, a hand of hers using the gravestone as support to hold her up. she took a couple deep exhales through her lips, still trying to familiarize herself with her surroundings — with earth itself.

"merci, mon ami." pure added, sharing a brief smile to the other before her attention was dragged up to the stars and the moon once more. she was really drawn to them, seeing them for the first time was very surreal. perhaps if it weren't for the predicament she was in - this would be more enjoyable. maybe she could even fly up and touch the sky one night.

Brutal looked at her for a long moment. Something definitely felt… Off. Gentlespy would never discard his hat, even in a life or death situation, and he certainly wouldn’t wear white either if it was the last clothing option in Earth. Maybe Brutal’s tiredness was finally getting to him, and he was overthinking again. That didn’t matter. He should focus on getting Spy someplace to rest.

”I think I remember the town from a bit ago being nearby. We can head there, get you a place to rest.” Brutal returned to Spy’s side, wrapping an arm around her waist to help keep her steady. He decided not to mention that said town was one he’d massacred not even a week ago, of course assuming that his Spy friend already knew that.

"right, okay. shouldn't be too far then, non?" pure nodded, letting the other hold her up and steady on her feet. it still hurt a little to walk, but it wasn't as intense as earlier. though, some fatigue did remain.

unfortunately, it was only memorable highlights the angel could recall on. any small or recent memories were foggy and unclear. what he could remember with ease, were what he assumed to be gentlespy's core memories. things such as moments with brutal, trauma, important information, and so on. it was almost like they became his own, but clearly, pure knew that they weren't.

walking alongside it, he could feel his eyelids growing heavy — exhaustion getting to him, and even making his head hurt a little. back in heaven, pure didn't really feel these things. he assumed it was the mortal body adjusting to ... the holy and eldritch being that he was.

entering the town, it seemed obvious that it was now a ghost town. nothing but the sounds of natures ambience and cool wind could be heard. not to mention; the bodies scattering the streets, the ichor decorating the walls in various splatters. it would've made him sick, but being so drained, he couldn't find it in him to pay attention to the details.

Brutal brought Pure into one of the houses, where they were immediately greeted by three bodies strewn across the ground, all stabbed through the chest. “I’ll clean those up later.” He said casually, before helping Pure into what he assumed was the bedroom.

The lamp inside the room was turned off, and there were a few random knickknacks all over the bedside table. The drawer of the table was pulled open, where an unused gun was sitting inside, but it was clear that the person didn’t get much time to use it. Aside from that, the room looked pretty normal compared to the carnage in the rest of the house.

The bed still looked alright enough to sleep in, so Brutal helped Pure lie down. He quickly made sure that no bugs were hiding in the mattress, before grinning a sharp-toothed smile at Pure. “Rest well. I’ll get you some new clothes and such.”

He hummed quietly to himself as he exited the room, now going to dispose of the bodies in the living room.

usually, immortal archangels such as pure didn't need to sleep. of course they would meditate or take long rests from time to time to regenerate their energy, but not necessarily sleep. but in order to properly function, as any mortal would, he needed to get some shut eye. along with gaining energy for his powers back.

a soft "thank you" could be heard from pure, laid down upon the bed on his back. he couldn't comfortably shift or turn in the mattress; due to his injuries. so he just rested there for a couple minutes, staring up at the popcorn ceiling.

in the period before pure properly fell asleep, he listened to brutal walk around the house — the footsteps against bloodied floorboards and the sound of heavy bodies being dragged somewhere further away. he would normally feel disgusted or petrified to be in a home where there were dead bodies in the main room—- if anything, to be in a whole town full of dead citizens, for heavens sake!

no, not now at least. he felt glad. relieved. thankful. he could still be at the site where pure woke up in originally, but he wasn't. he managed to find, not his but, gentlespy's closest friend; and because of that, was decently patched up and taken somewhere to rest up. that was the last thing he thought of before finally giving into the temptation of delightful slumber.

Brutal made quick work of the bodies, dumping them in a pile outside where they would be out of sight from any windows. Walking back inside, he smiled softly at the satisfying sound of his hooves clicking against the floorboards.

He took a rag from the kitchen and started to clean the blood off of the floor. It only took about 10 minutes, before he stood up and stretched. Disposing of the rag, Brutal went over to the bedroom to check up on Pure.

He chuckled to himself when he saw that she hadn’t pulled up the covers, so he decided to do it for her. Once he made sure that she was comfortable under the blanket, he left the room.

He wouldn’t mind sleeping on the couch, just for tonight.

soft snores left the sleeping angel throughout the night, only shifting in the bed a few times to get more comfortable. even into the morning as the sun arose, and various birds sang — more specifically nightingales, pure slept like the dead. not that she was actually dead, it was just the best sleep she's ever gotten for the first time.

some stray hair tufts poked out of her mask, her rested expression calm and pressed against soft sheets. she was curled up around the soft pillow she held, some drool hanging from the side of her mouth. she even had some lines pressed into her skin from the bedsheets and pillows.

after a full night's rest, and some hours into the morning, her energy was restored. her powers were back to normal; even her wounds were perfectly healed up. any major injuries left just a scar. everything else had closed up over night, thanks to her powers regenerating.

On a chair in the bedroom, Brutal had left some new clothes for her to wear—A RED Spy suit, customary to Gentlespy’s liking. There was also a hat placed on top of it, though it looked very ripped up and bloodied. Brutal had likely hunted it down from the very place Spy was attacked.

Brutal was walking around the house, in the process of making breakfast for the both of them. His tail swayed as he hummed to himself, currently flipping pancakes. They looked a bit moldy, but surely nobody would notice. He cursed to himself as he accidentally dropped the pan with a loud CRASH, the pancakes now left to the floorboards.

He grumbled in annoyance as he threw away the pancakes. If it was him, he’d have just eaten them off of the ground, but he intended on making this breakfast for his Spy friend. He sighed in defeat and instead went searching for a cereal box.

#yaoi💔💔💔#he doesnt know how to make pancakes anyways #They wouldve come out so burnt even pyro wouldnt like it

opening a portal, out stepped through — a fatigued and bloody pure. this is quite the unusual attire for the saint. it wasn't often that he killed on his own, for heavens sake he didn't kill at all!

closing the portal he sighs, sticky ichor glued to his balaclava and crimson colors staining his white clothing. he always hated the feeling that came after.

It wasn’t unusual for the madman to be drawn to any scent of blood, godly or not. He could practically smell it from miles away—Though he only showed up to sources of heavy bloodshed.

Either way, Brutal was drawn to any kind of holy aura—Mainly because Pure was the only divine being he knew.

“You look like shit.” He remarked, standing close by from Pure. His arms were crossed, his kukris left in their leather holding cases on his back.

it was always a delightful sight to see brutal, a weak and forced smile momentarily appearing on his battered expression. he sniffled, unsure if the blood at his nose was his own or not.

"thank you," he answered sarcastically, "i would assume so, considering i am drenched in blood."

pure took a couple wobbly steps forward, looking as if he was about to pass out. he was very low on energy, after using up so much of his powers during his little kill frenzy just minutes ago.

"i should be fine, though." he lied, moving past brutal in search for something to lean against. even his vision was fading in and out of darkness.

Brutal’s brow furrowed as he watched Pure stumble, and he moved his hands forward to grab onto his suit, in an attempt to keep him from falling over.

“Careful, now.” It’s voice was full of worry, a drastic change from how it’d been just moments ago.

Of course, he didn’t believe one bit that Pure “should be fine”. He stood next to him, allowing him to lean on him for support.

groaning, the angel latches onto brutal – accidentally smearing some blood onto his clothes. he breathes out heavily, hazy eyes drifting to the one holding him up. truthfully, if it weren't for him, pure would've already fell over.

"i said i'm f— fine." he was always so stubborn, but still grasped onto him like his life depended on it, "juste un peu fatigué. it won't hurt me."

pure looked as if he could pass out at any given moment, but used the remaining amount if energy he had in him to make it seem like he was alright — that he wasn't nauseated from the smell on his body, that he wasn't disgusted by his own actions ... his own killings. clearly his abilities can only get him so far.

“You don’t look fine, mate.” Brutal snorted, trying to bring some humor to the situation, as feeble as it was. He put one arm around Pure’s waist, and used the other to steady him from the front.

Brutal didn’t mind the blood getting all over his clothes. In fact, he probably would’ve enjoyed it—If it wasn’t for the semi-dire situation.

“Where d’ya live? I’m not leavin’ you here to bleed out, immortal or not.” He spoke with slight harshness, but he wanted to make it clear that he wouldn’t be giving up on her.

"live?" she asked weakly, using the last bits of her energy to remember any base or home that this mortal vessel resided in before her.

the angel laughed dryly, trying to come up with something to say, "i don't have a place that i live in, ami. not a permanent place."

it was .. partially true. the memories that came with this body didn't have any recollection of having a home. that, and she was just kicked out of heaven just hours prior. clearly, pure isn't going to tell it all of that. not yet of course. she was getting tired, she needed a place to lay down and rest. unfortunately, she chose a body that was near death; which added onto the fatigue and exhaustion.

”Dammit…” He grumbled something to himself. Neither of them had anyplace safe to stay, then? That’s fine. He could work with this. Everything is fine.

Making sure to not walk too quickly to make her fall over, Brutal started to guide him towards what he hoped was a better place to rest. Even a forest could work, if he found a good spot of moss to put Pure down in.

“How’d you even end up like this, anyway? And what happened to your clothes?” As his panic started to wear off slightly, he became increasingly aware of how… Odd she looked. Out of all things, the last thing Brutal expected was for someone like Gentlespy to wear something of a priest uniform.

"caught in a crossfire. eh, lots of explosions and other not so important stuff." she answered quickly, breathing growing ragged, "and my clothes? well i was..."

that, pure didn't necessarily have a clear answer to. fuck. think of something, anything!

"burning, oui. my clothes caught on fire and i had to take them off before i got burnt myself. it's a long story for another— urgh, another day." the sentient angel had a limp, taking note of the bullet wound in her knee. all wounds, bruises, cuts, anything that was bleeding out of her — was sure to be fixed in time, thanks to her powers.

but, with her powers having been drained after taking over gentlespy's body, she couldn't exactly do that.

“So, what, the fight was in a church or something?” Brutal chuckled lightly. He could see what looked like a graveyard in the distance, and hopefully he could find a bench or something. He hoped nobody would be there, and there surely wouldn’t, considering it was the middle of the night. Only weirdos like himself would be wandering around a graveyard at night.

He decided not to prod the other with questions anymore, considering his current state. So he walked on in silence, making sure that Spy wouldn’t face-plant into the ground.

It wasn’t long before they made it to the graveyard area. As there were no benches in sight, he did the next best thing—Rest Spy right against a gravestone.

"sssomething like that, sure." he barely answered, his voice making it clear that pure was struggling to stay conscious.

the angel didn't mind their current surroundings, it was definitely much better than the one he found himself in when he woke up. he allowed brutal to lay him down against a gravestone, his head leaning against the stone behind him.

a wavered sigh left him, blue eyes staring up at the inky blue sky. where they were at, there were many different clusters of stars and constellations he could see. pure's never seen the stars from earth, this would be his first time. in heaven it was always bright, and it never turned dark enough to see any kinda of stars like this.

"ma bonté, is the night sky always this beautiful?"

Brutal frowned, glancing up at the sky. He had to admit, it did look pretty beautiful. “…I guess?”

He grew more worried by the second. “Don’t pass out on me, mate. Focus on me.” He knelt down next to Pure, rummaging through his pockets. He sometimes kept some sort of healing equipment on him, but it was rare that he ever encountered anyone who needed help—Nor anyone that he would willingly help. Not to mention, he rarely ever bothered treating himself, usually leaving it up to Gentlespy.

“Shit…” He grumbled. There was nothing of use in his pockets, besides an extra knife and a bent paperclip. Brutal did tend to bury his things around places, maybe he’d buried some medicine supplies around here…

“Stay right here, alright? Don’t fall asleep. I’ll be right back.” He stood up quickly. The last thing he wanted was to waste any time.

another dry chuckle, listening to brutal's words. from the memories he collected of this body, who this used to be; they seemed to be good friends, or work partners. it was a little tragic, but the angel tried to look past that.

"non, ami." pure whispered, grabbing its wrist in a weak grasp. he smiled up to it, in attempts to reassure him. but, making out his expression, he really did seem worried. did he look that bloody and beaten?

all he needed was a quick nap. it wasn't like he was going to die, no. he could heal all these wounds and bruises up himself, but of course ... his energy to use those angelic powers were drained completely by now. as much as pure wanted to close his eyes, he listened to brutal. that, and he didn't want to give the other a heart attack.

"i told you i'm fine." his hand slipped away from its wrist, falling to his lap. sapphire irises swayed between brutal's face and the stars above. he was really fighting to keep his eyes open now.

“No, you’re not fine.” Brutal huffed in annoyance. He squeezed Pure’s hand in reassurance, before moving away.

Brutal looked around the graveyard for any spots he might’ve buried something. He made extra sure not to stray too far from Pure, not wanting him to pass out the moment he was out of sight.

It wasn’t long before he found a spot of dirt in front of an old grave. It was recent, he could remember burying it just a few days ago. He dug it up with his claws, ignoring the coffin at the bottom for the items he had placed on top of it. Dusting it off, Brutal pulled a medical kit out of the hole. He didn’t bother to cover it back up before returning to Pure’s side.

He took the gauze out of the medical kit and pressed it against Pure’s wounds. He didn’t have much medical experience, and was mainly going off of what he remembered Gentlespy doing.

he watched brutal quietly, until he saw him digging up a grave. or, that's what he assumed. his expression faded into one of concern and genuine confusion. pure even had to blink a few times to make sure he was seeing this right.

the exhausted angel was going to protest again, opening his mouth to speak — before he came back with a medkit in his hands, or claws. or even paws. he was too tired to make out what they were.

feeling gauze and force being pressed against a wound. she hissed, fingernails digging into her leg from the sheer pain. she made a face of discomfort, pressing her head on the gravestone behind her. this definitely woke her up, giving her the time to examine brutal up close without a foggy vision of him.

"where—- hhssss, where did you even find that?" pure asked, her breaths quick. her gaze followed up his arm, then to his attire, facials ... legs, horns, sharp canines. could she be dealing with a demon, right now? none of the memories recollected much about brutal being a demon, only that he was a close friend. that was all.

pure decided to not mention it, and instead allowed brutal to tend to her wounds. she believed it hurt more having someone else treat her injuries - that were apparently fatal, rather than taking care of them herself. but, she didn't complain. she was thankful he even found her in the first place.

Brutal was silent, taking antibiotic ointment out of the medical kit and putting it over the others wounds. He made sure not to press too hard, not wanting to put Spy through more pain than she was already in.

“Hole.” He answered her question flatly. After finishing applying the antibiotics, he took a roll of bandages out of the kit and started wrapping it around the areas where the wounds were.

“Alright, that should do it. ‘Re you good to walk?” He looked back up at Pure’s face, meeting her eyes. That’s odd. Were her eyes always blue? He vividly remembered them being green. Eh, probably a trick of the moonlight.

she felt a little better, despite her powers being drained. a shrug followed after his words, pressing her palms against the grass floor. she looked over the now patched up injuries, tilting her head. how did he find medical supplies in a random hole? thinking about it, she shouldn't question it.

"uh," she trailed off quietly, glancing back to brutal, "i should be. i would like to get some proper sleep eventually, though."

the fallen angel pushed herself onto her feet, a hand of hers using the gravestone as support to hold her up. she took a couple deep exhales through her lips, still trying to familiarize herself with her surroundings — with earth itself.

"merci, mon ami." pure added, sharing a brief smile to the other before her attention was dragged up to the stars and the moon once more. she was really drawn to them, seeing them for the first time was very surreal. perhaps if it weren't for the predicament she was in - this would be more enjoyable. maybe she could even fly up and touch the sky one night.

Brutal looked at her for a long moment. Something definitely felt… Off. Gentlespy would never discard his hat, even in a life or death situation, and he certainly wouldn’t wear white either if it was the last clothing option in Earth. Maybe Brutal’s tiredness was finally getting to him, and he was overthinking again. That didn’t matter. He should focus on getting Spy someplace to rest.

”I think I remember the town from a bit ago being nearby. We can head there, get you a place to rest.” Brutal returned to Spy’s side, wrapping an arm around her waist to help keep her steady. He decided not to mention that said town was one he’d massacred not even a week ago, of course assuming that his Spy friend already knew that.

"right, okay. shouldn't be too far then, non?" pure nodded, letting the other hold her up and steady on her feet. it still hurt a little to walk, but it wasn't as intense as earlier. though, some fatigue did remain.

unfortunately, it was only memorable highlights the angel could recall on. any small or recent memories were foggy and unclear. what he could remember with ease, were what he assumed to be gentlespy's core memories. things such as moments with brutal, trauma, important information, and so on. it was almost like they became his own, but clearly, pure knew that they weren't.

walking alongside it, he could feel his eyelids growing heavy — exhaustion getting to him, and even making his head hurt a little. back in heaven, pure didn't really feel these things. he assumed it was the mortal body adjusting to ... the holy and eldritch being that he was.

entering the town, it seemed obvious that it was now a ghost town. nothing but the sounds of natures ambience and cool wind could be heard. not to mention; the bodies scattering the streets, the ichor decorating the walls in various splatters. it would've made him sick, but being so drained, he couldn't find it in him to pay attention to the details.

Brutal brought Pure into one of the houses, where they were immediately greeted by three bodies strewn across the ground, all stabbed through the chest. “I’ll clean those up later.” He said casually, before helping Pure into what he assumed was the bedroom.

The lamp inside the room was turned off, and there were a few random knickknacks all over the bedside table. The drawer of the table was pulled open, where an unused gun was sitting inside, but it was clear that the person didn’t get much time to use it. Aside from that, the room looked pretty normal compared to the carnage in the rest of the house.

The bed still looked alright enough to sleep in, so Brutal helped Pure lie down. He quickly made sure that no bugs were hiding in the mattress, before grinning a sharp-toothed smile at Pure. “Rest well. I’ll get you some new clothes and such.”

He hummed quietly to himself as he exited the room, now going to dispose of the bodies in the living room.

usually, immortal archangels such as pure didn't need to sleep. of course they would meditate or take long rests from time to time to regenerate their energy, but not necessarily sleep. but in order to properly function, as any mortal would, he needed to get some shut eye. along with gaining energy for his powers back.

a soft "thank you" could be heard from pure, laid down upon the bed on his back. he couldn't comfortably shift or turn in the mattress; due to his injuries. so he just rested there for a couple minutes, staring up at the popcorn ceiling.

in the period before pure properly fell asleep, he listened to brutal walk around the house — the footsteps against bloodied floorboards and the sound of heavy bodies being dragged somewhere further away. he would normally feel disgusted or petrified to be in a home where there were dead bodies in the main room—- if anything, to be in a whole town full of dead citizens, for heavens sake!

no, not now at least. he felt glad. relieved. thankful. he could still be at the site where pure woke up in originally, but he wasn't. he managed to find, not his but, gentlespy's closest friend; and because of that, was decently patched up and taken somewhere to rest up. that was the last thing he thought of before finally giving into the temptation of delightful slumber.

Brutal made quick work of the bodies, dumping them in a pile outside where they would be out of sight from any windows. Walking back inside, he smiled softly at the satisfying sound of his hooves clicking against the floorboards.

He took a rag from the kitchen and started to clean the blood off of the floor. It only took about 10 minutes, before he stood up and stretched. Disposing of the rag, Brutal went over to the bedroom to check up on Pure.

He chuckled to himself when he saw that she hadn’t pulled up the covers, so he decided to do it for her. Once he made sure that she was comfortable under the blanket, he left the room.

He wouldn’t mind sleeping on the couch, just for tonight.

#AUAUUGGHH I HATE THEM💔💔💔#I love them dearly #i want them to EXPLODE!!!

♛ : CHRISTIAN BRUTAL SNIPER. @taintedblades - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag