Galic didn’t even need the angel to tell him that. The moment Michael reacted, he already knew that whatever misfortune Cresil would do upon the Peacemakers, the punishment that Michael would judge upon the demon man would also be on the MachGaogamon himself. He had seen the way the MagnaAngemon’s eyes burned at him when he thought that he was possessed…and it was not something that he would have liked to see again. Ever.Michael turned and walked away, but stopped beside Galic. "And know this, my friend," he said to the beast man. "Should your demon betray us, it is on your head; I will come down upon you with the entire weight of Heaven and smite you where you stand."
Still, whatever consequence would happen, he would gladly receive it. Just as long as it was on him and on him alone. He would rather suffer the unfortunate fate than have it on the innocent nomads, who would have been Cresil’s victims were he to become bored (which had become increasingly often as of late). Sighing, he glanced at the Astamon.
Cresil popped the joint of his torso and rotated his limbs. He could still feel the ache, the feeling like his bones were being crushed, that his insides were getting burned, frozen, then burned alternately in piercing agony, and his whole body was being forced to contort into shapes and forms that he naturally wouldn’t be capable of. He definitely didn’t like the feeling…but despite that, he could feel a smile come up on his face.
‘Yes,’ he thought to himself. ‘I am definitely not going to be bored for a while.’ He glanced at Galic, reading the look in his eyes. The Astamon only gave him a mysterious grin, leaving the MachGaogamon to frown.
"See," Samael said with a smirk. "We can all get along."
Cres had to grin. Get along? He popped the joint of his neck, looking at the demon. “Very much so. This is going to be…fun.”
As soon as they mentioned the wedding, he gave them a mysterious look. “I’m afraid that I won’t be attending it...or if I am, you won’t be seeing me,” he added, a smile on his face. “But I’ll be around…trust me.” With that, he melted once more into the shadows, moving as if Michael hadn’t just tries to smite him into dust, as if the pain that wracked his body were inexistent.
He wouldn’t have survived being a demon in Hell if he was a stranger to excruciating pain.
The wedding reception…or at least near it…
A distance away from Gigas and Ivy’s wedding reception, Aeria sat near a grass garden. While she wasn’t quite so far that no one would be able to see her, they at least wouldn’t have been able to recognize her. Or she hoped.
She bowed her head, looking at the small object in her hands that she unconsciously played with, looking it over, rubbing it, and holding it one hand and then the other. She bit her bottom lip, trying to not let the tears that threatened to fall down her face to escape. Her hand held onto the object tighter as she shut her eyes tight, unable to keep a tear from running down her face and splashing noiselessly on the blades of grass she sat upon.
“I’m so…sorry,” she whispered, rubbing her eyes to shed away the tears before they could get any stronger in intensity. She took a deep breathe and let it out, hoping that it would help.
She needed to calm down. She needed to relax. And it was hard to do when all she did was just sit and think about it. She pocketed the object in her hand, making sure that it wouldn’t fall, and then she stood up. Whatever qualms she had about doing what she was going to do disappeared; it was the only thing in her mind that she knew would be able to slow her down enough before she would start bawling…even if it might not have the result that she would have wanted sometimes.
Her eyes closed, she took one step forward…and then another, letting an arm, nay, her whole body sway forward with it. And then she spun around once, her feet treading precisely and purposely. She let her arms move and sway, the breeze caressing and following her movements, around and over her body, taking advantage of the full range of motion that it was capable in slow, precise movements. Her legs rose and fell, gracefully and slowly, softly upon the grass. Her body moved without the awkwardness that she had previously shown, turning and moving with the beautiful elegance that her lithe body was capable of. She moved with the song that only she could hear, and she danced with the partner that only she could feel. And the tears trickled down her face through closed lids, unable to stop at the images she could see behind closed eyes, at the lack of the warmth that usually accompanied it. And she continued to dance to the melancholic song in her head stopped…even though when it did, her tears did not.
Sniffling, raised a hand to press against the side of her face, wishing that the touch belonged to someone else. Even though she knew that as much as she wished it, the wish would never come true.
She fell back on her knees, and then sat down back down on the grass, the trickling tears down her face.
“I miss you so much,” she whispered.
Shoon hid under one of the tables, voraciously eating at the food that he had ‘gathered’ from various tables. He rarely ever got to eat food that good, let alone savor it. He was usually running by the time he had finished half the portion of food he had ‘ordered’. He blinked when he began to hear a conversation behind him.
He looked from under the table to see two pairs of legs, belonging to two individuals that were talking. His eyes widened when he recognized the voices of said two individuals.
He kept himself from talking, pressing his hands against his mouth, listening eagerly to the conversation between Thor Odinson and Bedivere Stormheart. And what he was listening to made his mind go wild. Their conversation was very interesting indeed.