Azrael

Only Fools Walk Where Angels Fear To Tread

That single, sharp 'don't' that parts her lips so seems to return some level of sanity to the hunter, his anger seeming to lessen in the wake of it if only for that small measure of control it so seems to provide him. Azrael grasping at those threads of sense once more, enough to seize hold of his power and so assure those fractured shards of glass hardly race to impale her as it seemed his subconscious mind had perhaps intended to do. Yet- didn't it always? His temper had always been decidedly short, even within his human days and yet he had never been this bad. Then again, he supposed he had never been this angry as a human. How many years had it been now? Nearly a century and he was still angry about it, all of it, his entire life- this. This very thing he was damned to be that he loathed so much and yet was utterly incapable of giving up. He so controlled those urges to kill every supernatural that crossed his path- after all even he was not prone to senseless slaughter and yet it took only the barest slip of his control to see those instincts engage. He couldn't help it. No hunter surely could. He had seen those of his own kind attempt to befriend supernatural before and it always ended in disaster even when they hardly meant it to. Emotion- that was always what did it in the end. It took but one powerful emotion to so unhinge them and in that moment those Hunter instincts so roared to life even without consent. It was as easy as breathing. His entire form designed to obliterate them and yet this time he is simply fortunate enough to catch himself before those glass shards are released. Azrael so assuredly seeing them drop. The death of the Fae woman before him would hardly have been problematic, she surely deserved it, they all deserved it for what they were and yet here and now she had done little to so deserve his violence. He knew it- somewhere within himself, in those places he was terrified to visit. She was simply lucky tonight perhaps the man fighting back that irritation now.

Her demand that he would not raise his voice within her home or her kingdom (although what this kingdom was outside her own lounge room he hardly knew) earned the woman little more than a grunt by way of response in a typically male fashion and yet for now at least the man made no further effort to engage her. Her assurance that she hardly feared the council was met with little more than the raise of an eye, Azrael choosing yet again not to argue with the woman despite her evident foolhardy belief that the Council was not something to be feared. Perhaps, on some level, he so agreed with the woman and yet too he had seen what they could do, he had seen that power when it was fully flexed and if she chose to remain ignorant of it then so be it. He had warned her- that was surely enough. It was more than any other Hunter might have allowed her though whether she chose to be grateful for it or not was her own decision. It is only that mention of Nadya Tetradore that seems to inspire any words from the man, Azrael commenting offhandedly about that near infamous trio- Samantha evidently content to inform him of yet another thing he 'would not' do in her presence, his gaze narrowing slightly once more. That had hardly been an insult, at least not to any save perhaps Tobias and yet truly the golden-haired hunter is assured the Leopard is hardly aware of what day it is let alone anything of true merit. The Nightshade pack a veritable blip on his radar and one hardly worth his time despite his scathing remark. They were, for the most part, entirely peaceable.

"Who you are sleeping with is of little concern to me."

One eye lifts ever so slightly, the man entirely content to call her out upon her thinly veiled mention of that relationship. Whether or not it was true perhaps remained to be seen and yet his gaze remains upon her all the same, searching for that subtle indication that he might have struck the metaphorical nail upon the head. What other reason would the leader of the Nightshade pack- in his Ark full of WereWomen so have to keep the company of a meek Fae girl if not for what she could provide him? It was, he knew, a decidedly harsh view of the world and yet today Azrael is inclined to nothing else it seems- aware entirely of how hypocritical those thoughts when his own attentions were so often inclined entirely upon Serafina alone. It is easy then to so steer the conversation towards a more business-like end, the man speaking briefly of this supposed roommate before turning his attention back upon her monarch as a whole, asking after any other details she might more willingly provide, his questions upon her affinities or those of her members seeming destined to go unanswered. At least until Samantha so commented upon making her power all the more clear, Azrael frowning but momentarily in consideration of this before looking towards the woman expectantly. Unless her power was some sort of ability to stare at him then he is assured it was a decidedly pointless one and yet the very notion that she might desire to show it to him somehow seemed almost....delightful.

It was a truly strange thing to feel, Azrael utterly unable to remember the last time he had ever actually been happy, the emotion so entirely foreign to him that its effect upon him, oddly, seems merely to confuse him as if he cannot fully recognise it. He hardly feels bad, in fact, he feels suddenly as if everything was good and yet that bemused look never quite seems to leave him, the man abruptly seeking to shake the feeling off. He was annoyed really, that he had ever felt it at all, it was a perfectly fucking stupid thing to feel, arms folding across his chest in irritation at...himself, he supposed- the girl having almost been forgotten, this internal flood of emotion seeming to very near introvert the man in some sense before it shifted again. This entire day very near seeming to simply upset him now, as irrevocable as it was, one hand reaching up to run through his hair in some effort to keep back those emotions that plagued him, Azrael not even entirely assured what he was upset about outside of the entirety of his life at that point. What would his Mother have said had she seen him now? God his Father didn't even bare thinking about and his brothers, his wife, his maker.....how many of them had died because he hadn't been there when he was supposed to be? Just like he somehow hadn't been there for this Fae Woman that night she was turned. The man almost assured it was his fault. That emotion however hardly seemed to last either before it was replaced again, worry seeming to pull at him suddenly.

How long had he actually been since he had walked in this front door? Were the timing him? Of course they were, they timed everything. Did they know then? Did they know he'd disappeared entirely out of range for that entire weekend? Christ he was going to be in trouble for this. He hadn't considered her either, God he was going to get her killed too. He couldn't let them kill someone else, not because of him, not again. Those thoughts so rapidly eclipsed his mind- Sam almost entirely forgotten, her words almost unheard as he stands abruptly with that fear clawing at his chest. After all these years, all of them and he was still afraid.

"I didn't think I was afraid of them, not anymore. Sixty years and they still terrify me."

The words were entirely audible and yet muttered to himself, gaze staring at nothing in particular before those golden eyes so flick suddenly back to Samantha. His demeanour entirely different.

"Is the thing I'm afraid of real- or does your power just make it real? Im not an idiot I know what your doing but the question remains- am I really afraid of them or are you just making me think I am?"