An Angel's Share

[Anthea "Annie" Troy]

The museum had been closed for over an hour when the security guard finally finished his last circling of the building. He had been tempted to skip his final rounds tonight- it was date night at home- but last time he'd slacked off like that, some kids had gotten trapped inside the Egypt exhibit and raised all kinds of hell. But it was finally time to lock up, and the guard flipped off the master stereo that piped soft music throughout the museum. He liked to leave the music playing, because being alone in the giant edifice was creepy enough without imagining he heard footsteps behind him at every turn. Anyway, he was done for the night, and he turned his key in the lock, checked the door behind him, and headed for home. No one left in there, I hope, he thought as he walked toward the train station.

But someone was in the museum. 

The security guard had been gone for hours, and the museum was cold and dark in the early hours of the morning. A light rain had started outside, and thunder was rumbling in the distance. Most of the storm would go around this area, but here and there a rogue lightning bolt made an appearance in the sky. One such bolt struck right over the museum; in fact, it was the only one to strike anything that night. But strike it did, and the portion of the roof where it made contact happened to be right over the room which housed the newest exhibit.

The Trojan War exhibit had been brought in by some multi-millionaire who claimed that the artifacts recently unearthed at a dig in Turkey would have major cultural implications to Japanese society. He had yet to visit the museum. Either way, the exhibit had moved into the main hall of the south wing, and it had been immensely popular. 

Contained in the exhibit were shards of pottery, a few bones, a bronze plate or two... and one body, perfectly preserved. It was the body of a woman, a child, really, for she could not have been more than fifteen or sixteen when she died. Her skin had turned leathery and her hair was matted. Her lips were curled back from her teeth in a grimace that did nothing to reveal her once-youthful spirit. Many museum patrons had pressed their noses against the glass behind which the body reposed. If you looked close enough, you could almost imagine that she had died clutching something to her chest, though whatever that might have been had disappeared centuries ago. The plaque in front of the glass read, This woman, whose body was unearthed near the suspected site of Bronze Age Troy, is believed to have been a Trojan noblewoman, possibly a family member of Priam, king of Troy, or his wife, Hecuba. This was, of course, fantastically inaccurate.

The storm outside was building in intensity, and when the one forked tongue of lightning made contact with the roof over the mummy's head, there was a brief moment of bright light inside the hall before even the security lights were doused. Had the security guard from earlier still been present, he would have imagined that he was hearing those phantom footsteps again, only this time, it wouldn't have been his imagination playing tricks on him. Had he been present, he would not have been able to see in the pitch blackness that the plinth upon which the body of the supposed Trojan noblewoman was now empty.

*****

The storm outside was in full force. It was close to four in the morning, but the young woman huddling beneath a red awning outside a sushi shop (now closed) had no concept of a twelve-hour time table. She only knew that it was dark and wet and very cold. The girl, whose name was Anthea, had escaped from the museum some time before by climbing out a bathroom window that had been left open. She'd divested one of the mannequins in the museum, because even she knew she couldn't wander around in the buff without being noticed. The mannequin had puzzled her at first, until she realized that it was merely a badly-hewn statue. She had robbed the ugly sculpture of its clothing, which consisted of a red wool skirt, a lightweight shirt that may once have been white, and a thin shawl that was doing nothing to keep the rain off her now that she was outside. She'd wandered around until she found the bathroom with the open window, but before she escaped, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. Well, something would have to be done about her hair. She would have to find someone who could braid it and perhaps even rub some fat into it to make it shiny, because right now it looked like a damned rats' nest. There are more important things right now, she told herself, and out the window she went.

Which beings us back to the sushi shop. 

Anthea was crouched under the red awning, but it had several holes in it and she was already soaked to the skin anyway. She decided it didn't really matter if she stayed put or not. She opted to wander about in search of a temple where she could say a prayer to Apollo and perhaps warm herself, but as she wandered the streets, she soon realized that there was no temple to be found (at least not one she would recognize as a temple). The rain was picking up and the temperature was dropping, and she picked up her pace from a swift walk to more of a run, her bare feet protesting with every step. Clutching her thin wrap around her shoulders, she looked up to the sky and cursed Apollo out loud for allowing her to wake up in such a strange place. 

It was at that moment that Anthea collided with someone coming from the opposite direction, and she went straight down on her rear end.

"You idiot!" She cried in Greek, glaring up at her assailant. "You can't just lark about, knocking people over in the rain!"

STATUS # COMPLETE
FEATURING # ANTHEA & ARAZIEL

WORD COUNT # 
NOTES # WHATEVER

CREDIT # IRONICALLIZE_IT @ CAUTION 2.0

[Araziel Léon Vasilica]

Thank God it was time to go home. Araziel's 'run to the bathroom and expel contents of stomach' count was up to four that night - well, morning - and that was four times too many. Damn high-rollers always bought the good stuff, the fancy-schmancy champagne that was actually from Champagne, but of course that meant it was up to Azi to finish the bottle. At least that meant a fat paycheck this time, though!

But right now the first thing on his mind was sleep. He and a fellow coworker, Kei, walked part of the way home together since they lived sort of in the same direction, and at a corner by a yakimou stand, they parted ways with sleepy 'jya matta ne's. Azi adjusted his messenger bag and marched on, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand as he dragged his feet. Just a few more blocks ...

As he passed by one of the cat cafes (they were a new thing for lonely cat ladies, apparently), he nearly ran right into someone lollygagging beneath the awning of the building.

"Sumimasen!" he called out reflexively, but she started to curse him out or some such, causing him to hesitate, a brow raised incredulously. Okay, so it was four am, maybe she was coming back from clubbing or something? They were in the right district for that kinda' thing, but it was only after he took in her ridiculous getup (was she from Shibuya?) that he realized she hadn't spoken Japanese ... or any language he recognized, really.

"C'est quoi ce bordel?" he sputtered in his own native tongue (which in his opinion sounded infinitely better than Japanese, thank you), but that probably didn't help matters much. For a good moment or two he could only blink owl-eyed at her. Oookay. It didn't take much for him to figure out she was lost.

"Uh. Uhm. Nihongo hanaso?" he tried first. "Er ... parles-tu français? Italiano? Español? Pŭtōnghuà? English?!"

Nope, no, evidently not, nope, nothing.

"The hell, who doesn't speak English nowadays?" he grumbled, throwing up his hands in defeat. His shoulders slumped, and he stared at her for a second before he gestured around them.

"Are you lost?" he asked in English. "Do you need help finding something?"

Seriously, all he'd wanted to do was go home and sleep, but evidently even that was too complicated.

[Anthea "Annie" Troy]

Anthea glared up at her assailant from her spot on the wet and very cold pavement. He spoke, and she didn't have a clue what he was saying. She didn't recognize any of the sounds he was making as speech, and what was more, he seemed angry! This incensed Anthea a great deal; after all, she was the one on the dirty ground. She glowered up at the man, who was becoming increasingly frustrated. Seriously, if looks could kill, he'd be some sort of super-concentrated ghost by now.

The stranger started spouting what Anthea could only assume were words, though none of them made any sense, until- "English?!" Her eyes widened slightly and she understood finally that he was trying to figure out what language she spoke. Now, she didn't actually know English, but she recognized the word nonetheless. Anthea shook her head. At least she knew what the man was asking, at any rate.

She looked all around her (she still hadn't gotten up, for some reason) as though she was looking for an item she had just misplaced. Of course, she found nothing to demonstrate what it was she wanted to convey, and she buried her face in her hands, exasperated. But then she opened her eyes and stared down at her hands, which now had gravel from the sidewalk embedded in her palms, and her eyes got wide.

Anthea slipped a hammered gold cuff from her wrist- she had been wearing it when she had died- and inscribed upon the thing curved plate was a line written in her native language: Greek. She handed him the piece of jewelry. Of course this man probably would have no earthly idea how to translate the words on the cuff, but that hardly mattered. Perhaps he would recognize the nature of the characteres, and that would be a start, at least.

The cuff had been like a name plate, one she'd worn since her childhood as a servant in the palace of Menalaus, King of Sparta. She'd been born in the household, and each of the queen's handmaidens had been fitted with a similar piece, each unique to the woman who wore it. Anthea's cuff in particular was etched with blossoms, and bore the inscription, "born of Medaea." Medaea was, obviously, Anthea's mother, though Anthea couldn't remember anything about the woman. Anthea had been raised with the priestesses, and only moved up to the service of Queen Helen when it was determined that Anthea would be uncommonly pretty (at least by the standards of the time).

Anthea looked up at the man with whom she'd collided, and regaining her feet, she looked him up and down. He didn't look Greek in the slightest, and the characters on the surrounding signs were completely unfmailiar to her. She had to find somewhere to go. The rain was coming down harder than ever now, and it was getting colder. She pulled her soaked shawl tighter around her shoulders with one hand, and with the other she brushed her drippy hair out of her face.

[Araziel Léon Vasilica]

"Aaaaand ... you have no idea what I'm saying," Araziel sighed, his drivel stemmed by the woman's look of frustration and bewilderment. "Can you even talk?" For all of her glowering and pantomiming, she'd said nothing, not even in some weird language which Araziel was pretty sure she'd be spouting if she could talk.

The rain was coming down pretty hard now, so he threw a look around and then grabbed his umbrella from his bag, unfolding it and popping it open to hold it over both of them. As he fiddled with that, he watched the woman playing with something on her wrist. The thing looked old, but ... real. Like, real gold. Azi was used to seeing the flashy stuff the host club patrons wore, and had quickly come to know the mixed stuff from the twenty-four karat stuff.

To his confusion, she offered it to him, and after hesitating, he took it, wondering if she just wanted him to admire it or something.

"Uh, yeah, it's pretty I guess," he spoke slowly as he saw the blossoms, but then he spotted the words - or what he assumed were words - inscribed on it.

"Oh you gotta' be kidding me ... what is this, Russian? I don't ... y'know what, here, let's get you inside then I'll see if Google's got any answers fer me," he decided, the cold starting to get to him - and he figured it was probably ten times worse for the rain-soaked woman.

His phone was still in his other hand, and it went off with a couple of beeps. Araziel held it up, frowning at it, to read the text. It was from Kei.

Omg, Mizuki followed me home. Should I call the police?

Araziel just rolled his eyes, shooting a quick text back.

Yeah I've got a pretty special case here. Wanna trade?

Jamming his phone into his back pocket, Araziel handed the bracelet back to the woman. "C'mon, let's get inside. I only live a couple blocks that way," he urged. When she didn't move, though, he frowned and turned as if to walk off, then motioned for her to follow. Eventually, he offered his free hand to her. "C'mon, you're gonna freeze," he grumbled.

Once he actually managed to make her budge, he made sure the umbrella suitably covered both of them and started down the street, splashing through puddles.

"Er ... Araziel," he eventually ventured, stabbing a finger at his chest. "You?" he asked in turn, pointing at her.

They had entered a more residential area now, the little houses crammed together side by side with a tiny patch of 'yard' that was more of a garden. Araziel's place turned out to be the top floor of a duplex kind of setup, and so they scaled the stairs, Araziel warning her to be careful since it kind of got slippery when it rained out.

A lonely half-sprouted sunflower in a pot sat outside the front door. Araziel fumbled for his keys, unlocked the door, then ushered Anthea inside first. He folded up the umbrella, shook it off, and hastily ducked in after her.

"Oh thank God," he huffed, dropping the umbrella on the tile of the entryway. "Don't forget to take off your ... shoes ... nevermind," he corrected himself, spotting her bare feet. Fer the love of God, had this woman dropped out of the sky?

He toed his shoes off before stepping onto the tatami. The apartment was small but cozy, with a cramped living room connected to the kitchen and a dining nook. A short hallway led to the single bedroom and toilette around the corner, and another sliding door opened to a small balcony where more random potted plants were strewn all over the place.

The walls and floor were mostly tatami or bamboo, and the doors were sliding shoji screens. The living room had a simple, modular sofa set and rug underfoot, a low coffee table, and a stand for the TV and assorted video game paraphernalia. A plush sheep sat on the sofa, and a blanket.

The kitchen was much neater though, with an assortment of cooking apparatus arranged all around the counters, cupboards, and wall.

Araziel left Anthea for a moment, dropping his bag on the sofa to duck into his room. He rummaged around for a bit, then emerged with a pile of clean clothes.

"Here I dunno if any of these fit you ... " He held up one of his hoodies, then a pair of pajama pants, figuring she was cold. There were also a couple of short-sleeved knit dresses that one of the host club patrons had left over one night and never bothered to recollect. "So uh ... help yourself? And I'll wash your stuff," he nodded, gesturing to her soaked clothing.

Leaving her to that, he now padded to the kitchen to prepare his supper (even though it was now five in the morning).

[Anthea "Annie" Troy]

Anthea was only seconds away from just turning around and figuring this puzzle out on her own, when at (long) last, the gentleman took the bracelet and realized it was covered in writing. Granted, he didn't know what the writing meant, but she'd already figured that would be the case. At least he had stopped babbling. In fact, he wasn't looking at her at all now, but rather at a small object in his hand. The object was lighting up and making a sound like a temple bell, and without a second thought Anthea snatched it from the man's hand and started examining it. When it dinged again, she threw it into the air, startled by the sound.

When the man started talking again, Anthea tried to pay close attention to the sounds he was making.

"Goo-gall," she parroted. "Goo-gall?" But he was walking away now, and she figured she must have said it wrong.

"C'mon, you're gonna freeze," the stranger said, beckoning with one hand. She just raised a quizzical eyebrow and looked him up and down. He took a step in her direction and grabbed her hand and proceeded to drag her along after him. She would have protested more vehemently, but she had been distracted by the dome he'd opened over his head. It reminded her of the rounded roof of the temple in Troy.

"Araziel," the man said at one point, pointing to himself.

"Are-zee-zul?" She was trying to mimic his sounds, but she knew she'd massacred his name. She smiled apologetically, the first time she'd broken out of her scowl. "Anthea," she said, following Araziel's lead and pointing at herself.

After a short but unpleasant walk, the duo arrived in a residential area and stopped in front of a two-story building. Araziel gave her some sort of instructions, but he might as well have kept quiet. She climbed the stairs ahead of him and allowed him to open the door. She peered inside before crossing the threshold, but once she was inside she began a tentative exploration of her surroundings.

Anthea didn't notice that Araziel had disappeared after entering the house, so intent was she in her exploration. When he reappeared, she had discovered a scented candle and was about to take a bite out of it.

"Here. I dunno if any of these fit you..." He handed her several articles of clothing, and she took them greatfully. This, she understood perfectly. Without waiting for her host to leave the room, Anthea just stripped down and started changing into the dry clothes.

By the time Araziel returned from the kitchen (from which enticing smells were wafting), Anthea was sitting on the sofa, her knees pulled up to her chest. She had picked up a novel, and was flipping through the pages, clearly unable to read a word, but entertained nonetheless. When she looked up and saw him standing there, she grinned and simply said, "Arzazzle!"

[Araziel Léon Vasilica]

"Hey, do you eat fish?" Araziel asked, a pot of dashi stock already in his hand as he peered out of the kitchen. The pot promptly fell out of his hand and hit the floor with a thud, however, upon seeing the woman standing there stark naked, holding up the pants.

"A little forewarning next time," he grumbled, bending to scoop up the pot, and throwing a rag onto the spilled soup to clean later.

He disappeared back into the kitchen, and the scraping of pots and pans could be heard again. Soon the aroma of hot soup and chashu filled the air, and Araziel, momentarily forgetting about the predicament that was Anthea, hummed cheerfully to himself as he bustled about the cramped little kitchen. The next time he emerged, it was with a tray bearing two steaming bowls of chashu ramen (the homemade kind, obviously, not the dollar store kind!), a pot of tea, and some water. He crossed over to the sofa, setting the tray down so that he could lay out dinner. When he saw her paging through the novel, though (some crappy otome manga that Kei had lent him), he blushed guiltily and grabbed it from her, tossing it onto the bookshelf behind the sofa.

"Yeah ... uh ... it's not mine, just borrowing it," he mumbled by way of an excuse, before returning his attention to the food.

"Here, this one's for you," he urged, setting the bowl along with a teacup and glass of water in front of her. He'd been working on the chashu since the day before (as it took a day to cook), so the pork was tender and savory by now, and the soup flavorful from the pork bones.

He was obviously hungry, and fell silent for a few moments as he dug into his food. That worked to make his mood ten times better, even though he was still sleep-deprived. If she could sit still for long enough, maybe he could get a nap in before starting on ... er ... 'research.' That was, of course, asking the internet about the bracelet.

At the next proclamation of 'Arzazzle,' however, Azi sighed and shook his head. "No, look, just call me Azi, okay? Azi. Azi!" he repeated frantically, when she tried to say Arzazzle again. "Anthea ... c'mon, if I'm butchering your name, at least it's not as bad ... "

[Anthea "Annie" Troy]

When Araziel snatched the book of pictures out of her hands, Anthea jumped in surprise. She held her hands up in front of her to show they were empty, and her eyes were wide as saucers. She thought she'd done something wrong, but when he spoke, she could tell from the tone of his voice that he wasn't angry, only a little embarrassed. The incident was immediately forgotten when he put down food in front of her. Anthea cocked her head to one side, taking in the spread in front of her. The food (she knew it was food, because it smelled like it, not like the candle) was foreign, just like everything else over the past few hours. She recognized the water, at least, and she drained her glass in a few big gulps. It tasted wonderful- after all, she hadn't had a drink in several thousand years.

Next she took a sip of the tea. It tasted good, but she hadn't expected it to be hot, and she burned the roof of her mouth. Before tasting the food, she tentatively dipped a fingertip into the bowl to test the temperature. It was perfectly warm, and she took the bowl between her hands and swirled the contents gently, trying to get a good look at what was in the bowl. She could see the broth, obviously, and there appeared to be pale worms floating in it. She fished one out with her fingers and held it up to the light before nibbling one end. It tasted pretty good, actually, and she eagerly ate up the whole contents of the bowl.

Once the meal was done, Anthea offered Araziel a smile. He'd corrected her pronunciation of his name, but she still wasn't entirely sure she'd get it right if she said the whole thing, so she tested the shortened version. "Ah-zee," she said, her accent thick. She said it a couple of more times, just to make sure she had it right. He even said her name once or twice, and she liked the way it sounded in his voice. He said it, and she nodded to indicate that he was saying it properly. "Ann-thee-ah," she confirmed.

They sat in silence for a while, but Anthea felt restless. Even though she'd just consumed a whole meal, there was still a gnawing hunger in the corners of her stomach, and it was really quite annoying. She rose from the couch and began looking at the different plants outside on the patio, peering at them through the glass. She saw one she recognized!! A beautiful white orchid was blooming on the patio, and she pointed to it.

"I know that one!" She exclaimed excitedly in Greek. "We have these everywhere at the palace. The white ones are my favorites." So what if Azi didn't understand her? She hadn't talked to anyone in centuries, and she was tired of silence.

[Araziel Léon Vasilica]

Araziel couldn't help beaming to himself as Anthea gobbled up the chashu. Even if she was just starving, it didn't matter; Araziel's artistic medium was food, and for every person he could get to enjoy it, it made him feel a bit fuzzy inside.

His bowl of soup was gone just as quickly, and he dabbed his mouth off with a napkin, nodding affirmatively as Anthea tried out his nickname.

"Yes. Azi. That's right," he sighed with relief, sitting back now to enjoy his food coma and digest a bit. He had discarded of his jacket, and was now just in suit pants and a button up shirt, and was planning on changing into pajamas as soon as he had cleaned up. So, he gathered up the dishes and brought them to the sink to wash, but nearly dropped them (AGAIN) at the woman's random outburst.

Hoping she wasn't yelling because she was frolicking around naked (...again), he peeked around the corner to see her standing in front of the patio, pointing at something outside. Thinking she'd spotted someone outside, and then paranoid that that someone might be Kei trying to hide for cover (......... again), Azi dropped the dishes in the sink and came trudging over to look out.

Nope, no Kei. No Mizuki. Just the balcony.

It took Araziel a moment to realize she was pointing at the flowers outside. He wasn't sure if she was just excited to see them, or if she'd never seen them before ... ?

"Uh ... those?" he asked, tapping the glass to point, though it was still raining outside so he didn't open the door. "Yeah those're orchids. I have some in the kitchen if you want?"

He turned away from the door to duck back into the kitchen. After washing the dishes, he plucked the tall, thin vase from the windowsill, bringing it back out to Anthea.

"There's not much in the way of nature here, y'know? Everything's all cement and glass. Soo ... keeping plants is all I've got," Araziel explained, even though she couldn't understand him. It was true, though. He'd come this way because it was somewhere new, and he always felt safer if he wasn't retracing his steps when it was time to move again. It was tiring, yeah, but he'd learned a lot about the cooking here, only he knew that wasn't going to feed him for long. Then a client at the noodle shop he'd worked at had offered him a job at one of the host clubs in the Kabukicho district and ... that's where Azi was now.

He hadn't even intended to stay in Japan this long, but yeah, the moving got tiring. One of the things he hated was the lack of nature in general - he wasn't a tree-hugging hippie by any means, but a bit of greenery didn't hurt. And he'd spent most of his childhood (or what he remembered of it) in Provence, so ... yep, countryside.

"Look, I'm tired as shit and need to catch at least some sleep. So ... I'm gonna go nap - " he jerked a thumb towards the tiny hallway that led to the bedroom (he felt it was more like a closet), " - so can I trust you to not blow anything up?"

There wasn't really anything super breakable or particularly incriminating in his apartment (the otome novel being the worst case), so he hoped he could leave her alone for a couple of hours.

"Just ... help yourself to whatever, okay? Oh, and toilet's in that room." he pointed, then shook his head, figuring she'd figure it out herself.

With a nod, he left her there, slipping into his room to change into pajamas. Then, with a relieved sigh, he faceplanted into the covers and almost immediately passed out - but he had the gnawing feeling in the back of his head that this was just the start of things, and that they were about to get a lot stranger.

[Anthea "Annie" Troy]

Azi took their dishes, now empty, to the kitchen (although she didn't know that's what it was called), and when he returned, he was carrying a smaller version of the plant she'd admired in his hand. The vase was tall and skinny, and the flower it held was very beautiful, if a little anemic looking. She beamed at him and reached tentatively out to ask if she could see the vase. She took it ever so gently in her hands and examined it. It was curiously lacking in artistic adornments- no symbols or drawings on it anywhere. But Anthea brought the blossoms close to her face and inhaled their sweet aroma. The smell of the orchid sent a flood of memories rushing through her head, and the wave of nostalgia made her pause. She didn't know an exact date or number, but she knew instinctively that she had been asleep for a long, long time.

And speaking of sleep, her host looked dead on his feet, and he was saying something and gesturing to what she could only assume was his private chambers. She set the vase on the end table and took a stab at communication and put her palms together, then mimed "sleep" by bringing her hands to the side of her face and resting her cheek on them, briefly closing her eyes. When she opened them again, she looked at him hopefully, unsure if she'd gotten the point across. Either way, Azi went off to his room, and Anthea called a foreign "good night" after him. She went back to the couch and sat down. She touched the petals of the familiar flower very gently, not wanting to knock any of them off their stem. After a few moments, she felt her eyes growing heavy, and though she'd been "asleep" for the past several thousand years, she stretched out on the sofa, pulled the hoodie tightly around her, and fell asleep.

A few hours later, Anthea woke to sunlight streaming through the patio window. She sat up and rubbed her eyes before rising from the couch, straightening the hoodie and sweatpants (they'd twisted around her small frame while she slept) and crossed to the window. She stared out for several minutes, but was soon distracted by that same gnawing hunger from the night before. She was starving for something more sustaining than the noodles from the night before- she was, after all, a vampire, and as such, she had... well, needs. She decided to rummage through Azi's pantry to see what she could find by way of sustenance.

After thirty minutes of searching and discarding various canisters, boxes, and bags of things she did not recognize (save for a bottle of olive oil, but that was useless right now), she was getting very frustrated. There wasn't anything remotely alive in the kitchen, and she'd made quite the unholy mess trying to find something remotely satisfying. All she had accomplished was to make a wreck of the kitchen, and it dawned on her all at once that if Azi walked in, he'd probably just explode in a shower of glitter and garlic salt. Anthea began sorting through the piles of discarded items, trying to remember where each one went, but it was useless since she couldn't read any labels.

[Araziel Léon Vasilica]

"Yes. Yeah! That's the one," Azi exclaimed excitedly when Anthea attempted to mime 'sleep.' Just to reinforce it, he mimed it back to her, then bade her goodnight (he assumed that's what she had said). And in the next moment he'd trudged off to curl up on his futon and pass out.

He awoke a few hours later, and for some reason didn't really want to get out of bed. He laid there for a few moments, staring up at the ceiling, before he suddenly remembered what had just come to pass. With a sigh, he smacked his palm into his forehead and remained immobile a little longer, before grunting and rolling off the futon and on the floor, where he wormed around for a bit before finally dragging himself to his feet and trudging out.

The first thing he heard was frantic rummaging from the kitchen, and unless a thief had broken into his house and was now ransacking the place, then Araziel's hopes that the deal with Anthea was actually a dream were dashed to the ground ... just like that box of dried seaweed ... hey what the -

"What are you doing?!" Araziel wailed as he entered the kitchen to the sight of Anthea surrounded by a tidal wave of packages. It looked like she had basically removed everything from the cupboards and thrown them on the floor, because pfft, who needed cupboards anyway?

For a moment, Araziel just kind of teetered there at the edge of the kitchen, before he took in a huge breath and let it out in a great sigh.

"Okay, I'm not cleaning all this shit up for you; you're helping." With that, he started to gather up packages and hand them to Anthea, pointing to which cupboard or drawer they were supposed to go. After a while of cleaning, however, he paused, suddenly realizing that there had probably been a purpose to the ransacking, and that Anthea wasn't just throwing packages around for shits and giggles.

"Oh. Shit. You're hungry aren't you?" Azi asked, almost smacking himself in the face again. Duh!

He knew he'd just fed her some ramen, but he understood the stuff didn't fill you up for ages, so he pondered and began to rummage through the fridge, wondering what to cook next. Granted, he didn't have a lot of surplus food - he only ever had to shop for himself, after all - so he pondered on what to throw together from what he did have.

"I could make some steamed egg custard," he thought aloud, seeing he had plenty of squid, crab, and mushrooms, but just as he was counting how many eggs he had left, he suddenly froze, only just realizing something else.

Damnit, how many epiphanies was he going to have in a day?!

"You smell ... funny," Araziel mumbled, suddenly turning from the fridge to look at her. It was a distinct scent that he hadn't detected in ages. At least, not from a stranger.

But if it was true, it would make a lot of sense. Anthea's random appearance, her total fish-out-of-water status ... and that undying hunger she couldn't solve.

"Okay, go like this," Araziel spoke slowly, gesturing for her to mimick him. He reached up and peeled back the corner of his lips, baring a fang. "You have one too?"

[Anthea "Annie" Troy]

Anthea jumped at the sound of Azi's panicked voice, and she subsequently dropped every box she had been holding. Araziel sounded really angry, and though she didn't blame him, she did flush beet red, and she looked like she might cry.

"Okay, I'm not cleaning all this shit up for you," Azi fumed. "You're helping." She nodded, understanding when he handed her a pile of packaged food and pointed to where they belonged.

Cleaning the kitchen didn't take all that long, mostly because Azi seemed to realize before too long why Anthea had ransacked the kitchen to begin with.

"Oh, shit. You're hungry, aren't you?"

"Oshit," Anthea mimicked, repeating the first sound out of his mouth. Honestly, she was worse than a Furby. She looked at Araziel, pleased with herself for learning a new "word." He started talking again, looking through the various packages in his hands and seeming to formulate a recipe as he went. But for the second time since he'd entered the kitchen, Anthea saw him pause, his face frozen in a sort of blank stare. Then, she realized he was smelling her. He set the boxes down and moved toward her.

"Okay," he said, "go like this." He made a face, and she understood that she was to make the same face. He pulled his lips back, and Anthea just had enough time to giggle at the funny expression when she spotted what he was trying to show her- a pair of sharper-than-average fangs. If, you know, fangs were, in fact, average. When she realized what she was seeing, Anthea got really excited. She pointed at Araziel's mouth, then touched her own and nodded, all the while spewing a stream of Greco-babble.

"Yes! Yes, thank gods, I'm starving! Where do you keep your real food? Do you have a servant? Are there more of us around? Where in the name of all things sacred are we?"