11277/Well, fancy meeting you here

Well, fancy meeting you here
Date of Scene:	22 May 2022
Location:	Nite Owl Diner
Synopsis:	Rien and Robbie attempt to go on a date. They're interrupted by a demon-killing angel.
Cast of Characters:	Hayal, Robbie Reyes, Rien D'Arqueness

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Hayal has posed:
The Nite Owl Diner is one of those actual survivals from the 50s, the kind with the formica countertops trimmed with chrome, checkerboard linoleum on the floor, and big plate glass windows that open on one of Manhattan's quieter streets. Over the door is the namesake owl rendered in neon, blinking one golden eye. The place where the menu is mostly variations on the theme of burgers, fries, and shakes. Not too consciously cutesy, at least.

Rain patters against those windows, but inside it's warm and pleasant. Definitely a good place for a date night, with the pair of them in one of those vinyl-upholstered booths. The waitress has just brought their meals and is assuring them that tonight's pies are scrumptious, all of it in the sort of Brooklyn accent that could strip paint off a battleship.

Which is when the window a couple of tables over explodes inward in a shower of glittering shards, and a couple of bodies thump onto the table of the corner booth. One of which is some awful looking thing that looks like a cross between an alligator and a mastiff, glowing with greenish balefire. The other is apparently human, save for the gray wings he sports....and is all too familiar to Robbie. This angel has determined that one particular Ghost Rider just can't have nice things.

They're in the midst of a struggle, the dog-gator roaring and snarling in something that does sound like words. Clawing and snapping and trying to tear the angel's throat out. It succeeds in drawing blood, leaving red arcs of spatter across the black and white pictures on the wall. But there's the flash of a crystalline blade and the thing screeches in pain and fury, before going limp. The angel's left crouched over it, not panting, but clearly exhausted. Only after a few beats does he look up to realize he's being stared at by a diner's worth of horrified people.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Yep, sure is a nice, quiet night. The rain on the windows is actually pretty pleasant, and Robbie -- already having inhaled his food -- is slurping at a chocolate milkshake and telling Rien about his day, when the glass beside them shatters and two bodies come crashing through.

His first instinct is to save his milkshake. Because he paid six fucking dollars for that, thank you very much. A few patrons start screaming; the girl behind the counter disappears from sight, possibly to grab a gun. And the young mechanic scowls up at Hayal in the most put out way he can muster.

"Really?" He glances to the dead dog-gator-thing, then back to the winged creature. "Are you fucking serious?"

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien got the Empire State Burger with fries and a big chocolate shake because she can eat whatever she damn well pleases and never gain an ounce. Fucking mutants. She's in the middle of dunking the fries into the shake and enjoying how they tast while she smiles across at Robbie... and that's when the window explodes. She stares at the glass-strewn mess of what was once her dinner, and frowns.

Looking up, she narrows her eyes at the pair, marking them quickly as what they are. Letting out a sigh as the angel slays the demon, she looks back to Robbie, "We should have gone to Gotham. Shit like this does not happen in Gotham. The Bat won't stand for it."

Then she's looking to the angel and heaving a sigh, "Please put the sword away, you're scaring people enough as it is." Then back to Robbie, lifting a brow as he seems to know the angel in question.

She pauses, then lifts a brow, "The hand? That was this one?"

Hayal has posed:
The bemusement's gone, and now the angel is all matter of fact. He swipes a handful of napkins from the little dispenser, wipes the blade off with care. Hayal makes an odd motion and suddenly it's a shard of crystal barely longer than a table knife. A shard that vanishes into the canvas army parka he's wearing. For while he's clean and healthy, he's dressed like he's one step above homelessness, in old fatigue pants, a gray t-shirt, and battered paratrooper's boots.

Only then does he realize he's being addressed in something that isn't terrified shrieking and turns to peer at Robbie and Rien. The Rider in particular gets a birdlike tilt of the head. "Generally," he replies, politely, "Have you ever known me to make a joke?" His voice is light, mild, and faintly tinged with an English accent.

Rien gets a nod of acknowledgement, before he turns back to the smoking corpse of the....hellhound? opens its jaw, and starts to yank its fangs out with brutally business-like twists of a hand. He drops them into the pocket of his parka, then he kneels on the table and lays his hands on the beast's corpse. There's a flare of blue-white fire and the thing collapses in on itself in a heap of greasy ash and a smear of smoke on the ceiling. Only then does Hayal crunch his way across the glass-strewn table to land lightly on the floor. To the horrified waitress who stands frozen, coffee pot in hand, he says, gently, "You'll want to call a priest. One can never be too careful with infernal residue."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
"Kind of a stretch to say I know you at all," Robbie tosses back, with a little more acid in his tone than seems necessary. All levity aside, though, he does visibly recoil from the sight of that blade. Hackles up, hooded eyes slightly narrowed, he remains tense and on guard until the thing is collapsed and tucked away.

Then, finally, he gets around to answering Rien's question: "Yeah." He shoots Hayal another dirty look. "This is the one." Who hacked off his hand.

He finishes off his milkshake, and digs for his wallet, mumbling, "Let's get out of here." Maybe he's worried about the angel turning *him* into infernal residue.. based on their prior encounters.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Sighing heavily, Rien's hands are enveloped in a light blue glow as she makes broad sweeping gestures towards the stains and ashes before focusing on them for a long moment. The remains and stains burn away to nothing before she turns that blue glow towards the exploded window and focuses on that area, then snapping her fingers. THe window is repaired and the scattered glass cleaned up.

Her eyes go back to the angel as she tsks, "You'll ruin everyone's dinner, invade their space, break the window, and slaughter a demon on their doorstep but then won't clean up after yourself." Snorting, she shakes her head and turns towards Robbie, "Typical angel." Taking Robbie's hand, she looks to the waitress, "Don't call a priest, it's been taken care of. I'm terribly sorry you were frightened and disrupted."

She reaches into her coat and pushes some bills at the woman, "Please, remake everyone's order, this should cover it." Then Rien is nodding to Robbie, "Sounds good. Think we can still go for that walk in the partk?"

Hayal has posed:
By the look the angel gives Robbie, he's pondering just that. Hayal's mouth opens as if he'd say something to the Rider, but Rien does her thing, and he all but comes to a point like a spaniel finding a covey of quail. Inhumanly intent, at first, before it eases into a more ordinary curiosity.

"What are you?" he asks, bluntly. "And why keeping company with him? I assume you know what he is." Because apparently it's entirely his business. The blond brows go up at the comment about him being a typical angel. "Have you known many?" he wonders, pacing towards them. The restored diner has apparently fallen right out of his attention.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Can't a Sin Eater go out for a nice quiet evening with his sorcerous girlfriend, and not get hassled about it? Apparently not. Hayal's look earns an even dirtier one from Reyes, but he shoves his money away when Rien offers to pay. For *everyone*. Which his shitty job at Canelo's doesn't really allow for, if he wants to keep a roof over he and Gabe's heads.

He gives Rien's hand a squeeze, then slides out of the booth with a rustle of leather and metal fastenings. "Puedes apostar que podemos," he murmurs to the older blonde woman with him. "No te importa la lluvia, verdad?"

Then Hayal keeps on talking about *what he is*. And Robbie's jaw hardens. "You should stop," he says quietly, lifting his eyes to the *other* blonde. "Or I'm gonna get angry."

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
"I'm his girlfriend," Rien's succinct response answering both the what and the why in a very literal way that gives away nothing as to her nature. "Of course I know. He's my boyfriend. Unlike the Heavenly Host, I don't pre-judge people, or slap a blanket label on them without any nuance. Nor do I condemn the one for the other."

She gives Robbie's hand a small squeeze and smiles at him, "Y extranar verte toda mojada y sexy? Muerdete la lengua!" She kisses his cheek and chuckles, then adds, "No te molestes, amor, el no vale la pena.." All without halting their walk to the door.

Glancing back at Hayal, she lifts a brow, "I've been to the gates of Heaven, fought Michael... twice. I used to think of the angels as compatriots, but after these last months, I don't think you're anyone's compatriots. Your heads are so far up your own nonexistent asses, you've lost perspective on the purposes you were given. It's like dealing with a lawyer. All you see is the letter of the law and not the spirit of it." She pauses at the door, looking at Hayal, "I pity you, angel. All you have is your pupose, to the point that it has consumed you. You're all so close to falling and you don't even recognize the signs."

Hayal has posed:
"If she knows and keeps company with you of her own accord, then by all means. I'm not here to police human foolishness, thank the Presence," He shrugs, with the barest rustle of ashen feathers...though one little secondary falls from the upper curve of a pinion and drifts silently down to the floor. That makes him frown, and he stoops to pick it up, eyeing it for a second before he stuffs it into yet another pocket.

But it's Rien's reply that makes him go still, squinting at her. This one's been down in the world of matter long enough to pick up human expressions. "Our purpose is all we are. When we choose for ourselves, we fall," he says, simply. "What signs?" For all his attempt at calm, and he has smoothed his features into something like, his feathers have roused up a little.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Robbie's well aware of the tension between he and Hayal; like a length of piano wire being strung tighter and tighter until it simply snaps. And all of them know what that's going to look like. For now though, he's managing to keep the demon leashed. Just that slight downturn of his lips, and the muscle in his jaw that won't relax, to suggest his inner turmoil.

"No soy yo quien tiene interes en esto," he murmurs low to Rien, keeping his eyes on Hayal. As to the rest, he doesn't comment. The Rider's beef with the Host is well above his paygrade.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
"Foolish? Of the two of us, which was calmly having dinner not disturbing anyone... and who came crashing through a glass window, making a huge mess and telling a waitress to summon a priest to deal with infernal remains? Do you even -know- what priesthood is like these days? Do you have even one scintilla of a clue on how few of them could do anything more than look at the stain and shrug? This isn't -Babylon-, angel. Possessions, demons, Hell.. the Church doesn't handle that shit. They don't even largely believe in it anymore!" Rien is halted by Hayal's comment, whirling around and stalking back towards him with fury snapping behind those blue eyes. She marches right up into his personal space and pokes him right in the chest, "Do you have any idea what would have happened if we hadn't been here to clean up your mess? No, of course you don't, because all you can see is the job. Kill evil. Oh, but it isn't just -evil-, no, its -demons- specifically. You couldn't give two fucks less about evil -people- as long as they're actually people. You swoop and stomp and wave your giant sword around like some hero, but you leave more damage in your wake than you're solving. You're every bit as much part of the problem as the demons themselves. At least -they- have the courtesy to be loud and proud about their bullshit. You try to act like you're doing anyone ever any sort of good. You assholes aren't even supposed to BE here, anymore than the demons. But you use their bullshit as an excuse to come down from on high trash entire sections of the world WE live in, and then have the gall to think you're doing us a FAVOR. I say fuck you, angel. I do your job and I do it better, cleaner, and without scaring the fuck out of a roomful of people or leaving a swathe of destruction in my wake."

Having unloaded that massive, pissed off rant onto the poor angel, Rien whirls around once more and stalks back over to Robbie, taking his hand and smiling softly at him, "I know you don't, love. But just because Eli is wrong doesn't make the angel right. They're both wrong. And assholed." She kisses his cheek and murmurs, "Lets go have that walk, maybe the rain will help my temper cool..."

Hayal has posed:
Rien's anger only makes that confused expression return, that little stitch of consternation knitting itself between his brows. He listens patiently as she rants, not lifting a hand to move the finger poking him in the chest.

"I do it because I have no choice," he reiterates, more softly. "You do. Had I been asked, and I have not, I would have preferred to stay home." The word is freighted with the heaviness of longing. "If you war against demons, excellent, there are never enough of us. But don't pretend you couldn't lay it aside if you chose. There are no parallels between us."

But he's talking to her back, and since he has just sense enough (perhaps) to not break through another window to get out, nor to wait on them....Hayal simply turns for the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. There's a door at the end of it, albeit one with a fire alarm and the appropriate warning label. A label he simply disregards, in favor of pushing out into the back alley, ignoring the whoop of the fire alarm and the way the waitress just puts her face in her hands. The last sight of him is not of those wings, but of the back of the parka he's wearing. Apparently those pinions aren't visible all the time.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Oh, god. Here they go.

Robbie shoves his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket as Rien starts winding herself up, and flashes an apologetic look to the waitress, who really just wants them to get the fuck out at this point. He glances out the window at the rain, and then looks back when she mentions 'loud and proud'. Wait. "What did you call me?" He frowns at her, but by then she's kissing his cheek and asking to leave.

It's the longing that Hayal manages to suffuse that solitary word with, that has him turning back to the angel. About to say something, perhaps. But then he's departing, and Robbie's clearly not going to stop him. "Yeah," he murmurs to Rien, still watching Hayal's retreating back. Then he shoves the door open with a little more force than necessary. "C'mon."

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
"You know nothing about me, -angel-, don't pretend you do," Rien says 'angel' like someone might say 'dick'. Then she's nodding to Robbie and leaning in against him as they head out into the rain. She enjoys the cool feel of the drops hitting her face as she mutters, "I refuse to agree with Eli on anything... but I am still not a fan of the angelic host."

She slips her arms around his waist and hugs in close so they can go on their walk in the rain and go back to being a snuggly couple instead of having to wear the work hats.