Blood and Smoke's Assassin Rp

Mercy stressfully noticed cross, his heart hammering lightly in his chest when he did. He HAD to get out of here- especially now that he knew what he did.
‘I need the loo.’ He softly said.
The fallen sighed and pulled back. ‘Hurry up.’
Mercy nodded and scarpered, struggling to grab cross’s gaze as he went.

‘I know how to get rid of him but I can’t do it on my own,’ he rushed out, his voice a terrified croak. ‘I heard some of em talking the other night- every fallen has a feather.’ He said, wringing his hand. ‘From their original wings. Normally only the archangels are permitted to- well, if you burn it... they get chained in hell. That’s it. Eternity in hell if that feather is f*cked.’ He shakily said, continuously glancing at the door. ‘I know where it is, too- I’m just- I’m scared. I can’t get to it alone.’

‘It’s in the house. He has a hidden drawer in his office- but he’s rarely ever out of it.’ He softly said. ‘That’s why it’s difficult for me to do it alone. With two, though, I could distract him with his friends, and you could sneak into the office, break open the drawer, and burn the feather. It’ll be difficult, but...’ he trailed off slightly, shaking. ‘I- I can’t live like this. I can’t. Not to mention next week is...’ he trailed off. ‘I don’t want to- to hurt anyone. Not again. I cant.’ He wrapped his arms around himself.

‘We’ll make it next Wednesday.’ He softly said. ‘His friends and... my friends... will all be round.’ He hurriedly gave Cross his address. ‘Make it around 7pm, okay?’

((Wanna skip again? 😂))

When Wednesday rolled around, Mercy was trying to stop vomiting blood.
It was Cheshvan. A week where fallen would possess the bodies of their nephilim-sworn in order to... do whatever they wanted, really. Most fallen just used them to have s*x with humans and ‘accidentally’ create more nephilim- since the fallen could feel literally nothing physically, this was a week for them to enjoy earthly... issues. Such as pain.
Now Malpas liked letting his friends- or rather, Mercy’s nephil friends, possessed- beat the hell out of mercy for a while before he possessed him. He was very much a sadistic masochist, a lot like the other fallen, but he enjoyed pushing mercy to his limits before he did anything. So there he was, reclining on a sofa, watching as his three fallen friends kicked mercy around on the floor, the assassins chest rattling as he vomited more blood.

Mercy glanced at the clock when he was given a moment of peace, the fallen moving away so they could grab a drink of alcohol.
He coughed as Malpas lifted him by the front of his shirt, mercy dangling helplessly.
‘Why so sad, little love?’ Malpas asked, brushing his lips across Mercy’s. The assassin tried not to flinch away, his body trembling violently.
‘We’ll be together soon. Aren’t you excited? What should we do first?’ Malpas cooed, before dropping mercy unceremoniously back onto the floor.

The house itself was very large. Much less a house and more like a mini mansion. Malpas’ office was thankfully labelled, and left unlocked- he clearly trusted that mercy’s fear of him was enough to keep him out. Inside the office was very tidy, each wall a bookshelf filled to the brim with ancient tomes, books, and even scrolls. This fallen angel was old.

The feather itself was very beautiful, a pure white at first glance, but shimmering an iridescent gold in certain light. On the frayed edges was age-old blood- probably Malpas’ own from when his wings had been ripped out of his back.

Mercy tiredly watched the fallen having a drink, and turned his gaze onto his husband. The man was wearing a curious expression, and he turned to look in the direction of his office, as if suspecting something was wrong.
Mercy whimpered softly with pain to distract him, struggling to sit up from his position.

It caught aflame faster than one could even blink.

Malpas froze, then leapt to his feet, aggressively approaching mercy, who shrunk away, crawling backwards across the floor. ‘What have you done, you pathetic little-‘
The fallens words were cut off as a chain wrapped around his neck, wrists, torso, and ankles- the floor fell open behind him, flames licking up the sides of whatever cavern it began to drag him into. ‘NO!’ He screamed, writhing, and mercy watched with cold eyes as he was dragged down into hell. The hole closed up behind him. He turned to glare at the other three fallen, who stared with horror- before backing away from Mercedes, and running for the door.

‘Thankyou.’ Mercy shakily said, getting unsteadily to his feet. He wiped blood from his mouth and nose, then wiped his eyes with his other hand. ‘Thankyou so much. He can’t come back now.’

‘Not unless lucifer himself lets him go.’ Mercy replied, starting to study the damage done to his body. ‘This is how Los Angeles started.’ He murmured. ‘We better keep this silent- we don’t want no trouble from upstairs.’

Mercy blushed slightly, wringing his hands. ‘I’ll heal.’ He half-heartedly argued, before heading for the door. ‘I suppose I’ve just got my work now. I can’t stay here- his friends will come looking.’ He turned to look at cross, smiling slightly. ‘Thankyou again for helping me.’

‘You’ll never be on my list.’ Mercy promised, before he smiled. ‘I’ll come with you now then. Your rabbits are adorable.’
He winced, listening as his little finger cracked loudly. ‘Uhm... ignore that. My bodies healing.’ He mutttered, watching his arm, the muscle and bone moving beneath the skin. He wrinkled his nose with disgust and kept walking.

Mercy scooped the rabbit up with his good arm, then sat down on the floor, not wanting to get his blood on the sofa. He petted the rabbit with a not-bloody hand, then gazed up at cross, his gaze curious. ‘I’ve never met an assassin as gentle as you are, Cross. Not from your side of town.’
He looked away, stroking Kippers ears.