“Do you realise how late you are, man?”
“Shut up Chase,” the half-angel snapped. “I know how fucking late I am.”
“You should’ve been there about an hour before,” another voice chided from afar. “The letter did say—”
“You shut up too Nathan,” Eric hissed. “I know—”
“On a more important note,” a female voice butted in, “who the hell invited you, someone want to snog an angel?”
“Thoria, would you just—”
“That appears to be the most likely outcome,” a robotic voice resounded.
“Oooooooooo,” the entire car resounded, before bursting with uproarious laughter.
Eric slumped onto the dashboard in the front seat, giving out a helpless groan. “I hate all of you,” he helplessly mumbled, his voice muffled slightly by the plastic in front of his face.
There were four people sitting in the car, excluding the Nephilim. Nathan Shepard, the pipboy guy, was sitting in the driver’s seat of a beautiful teched-up Aston-Martin. He’d downloaded it straight from the gadget and proudly opened the scissor doors like a king, throwing back this stupidly precocious smile. Eric had groaned profusely. The last thing he wanted was for the car of James Fucking Bond to drive him to the damn event. He wanted to arrive and leave inconspicuously. But noooooooo. He had to go in a fucking Aston-Martin with scissor doors. God fucking damnit.
There was Chase, chuckling in the back of the car, suit on, rifle resting on his lap, pistols holstered. He was there to ‘supervise’ the entire event from afar. Which, as far as Eric could process, involved looking down his scope at the goddamn event from the top of the neighbouring building. Which would’ve been fine - Eric didn’t trust things to stay quiet either - if he’d just jumped from rooftop to rooftop. Instead, the sniper was sitting in the car, adding occasional commentary on top of Nathan’s incessant criticism, and Thoria’s relentless teasing.
Oh, of course. He almost forgot her. Because of the fact that Fives still hated him, and an event this big required agents to be paired, Thoria was going along as well, as Chase’s spotter, and she just loved to take the mickey out of everyone. And seeing how Eric held himself in such a high and might manner, that meant that he was always the primary target.
Finally, of course, there was degenerator. The AI was sitting in his disembodied state, completely at ease between the assassin and infiltrator. He was going to discretely download himself into the security grid and provide covert monitoring, to ensure that if anything bad went down, rapid response was ensured. This was Eric’s idea; he argued that the presence of so many gladiators in one location presented a target which was just too tempting to pass up on, and required surveillance of a high order. The living computer concurred, and had brought himself along. Eric had thought that would’ve made things just a little more bearable; he actually liked the AI. So far, however…
“Long night already, Eric?” Thoria chuckled, jabbing his wing playfully. “Wow, didn’t realise your stamina was that low.”
He could have responded. Repartee was definitely a possibility… except the half-angel was in no mood for it. It would’ve gotten too personal.
So he just sat there, still groaning.
This night couldn’t end soon enough.
~-~-~-~
Eric had no idea how he’d done it.
Somehow, by some ridiculous tomfuckery, Nathan had managed to avoid traffic, the crowds of press, and get to the secured and private entrance around the back for gladiators.
His appreciation for the man had suddenly gone up 100-fold.
“All skill,” he boasted, turning to the nephilim. “All pure driving skill.”
Thoria snorted. “You cheat. You just reassigned skill points to driving, didn’t you?”
“Maaaaaybe.”
The car stopped, and the front door opened, revealing a man with a clipboard and several security guards. The half-angel stepped out of the car, and the man gave him a quick once-over, checking the guest list.
“Mr Kassaran,” the man said amicably. “Right this way sir, we’ll lead you to the ballroom.” The car had already sped off, leaving him no time to get back in. Not that the thought had struck his mind….
Okay, maybe it had.
The man escorted the half-angel into the ballroom, and Eric was momentarily taken aback by the beauty of the room. He’d never been inside the ballroom in the Vague CBD, only in the Vale. Though the two were incomparable, the CBD ballroom was still gorgeous. And it was well fitted for its current hosting duties. Tables of food, covered by suited waiters, sat there, heavily laden with sweets, canapés, and drinks. A small crowd, consisting of a few gladiators, a few organisers, and some fans, milled about, talking to each other. It was a pretty nice atmosphere, overall-
“Excuse me, Mr Kassaran, but I would like to introduce you to the person who gave you your invite.”
Eric turned back around and looked at the man, trying to keep his frustration at bay. Now it was time to meet the person who dragged him out here. He braced himself for the inevitable; Kat was going to walk into the room, laughing her ass off like a damn hyena, and it would’ve been a massive and slightly stupid prank.
“Sure,” the nephilim shrugged.
The suited man immediately ran off into the crowd.