First Demonic Dragon C.575 Angel PTSD

"So... do you want to tell me why only one of you seems to be in perfect condition?" Odin finally asked.

Sitting at a round wooden table inside of a tent were the seven archangels and Odin.

"Caw!"

As well as Huginn and Muninn, who seemed to be mocking the angels who somehow looked even more depressing than them.

Save for Azrael of course, who was busy fiddling away with a device that resembled... an IPhone?

"We-"

At the moment that Michael started to answer, the eight-

"Caw!"

The ten of them heard a low rumble that they knew all too well.

Odin all but hit his head on the table when he heard the sound of lightning strike the ground from outside the tent.

"Whoooo's hungry?!"

Odin heard a familiar slurred voice and he all but threw up his hands in indignation.

"...Please excuse me a moment." The All-Father got up from his seat and left the archangels inside.

However, he left the twin crows at the table where they scrutinized the sad saps with their beady black eyes.

When Odin stepped outside, he was greeted with the sight of a very large potbellied man bound in leather armor.

At a height of exactly seven foot, he towered over the somewhat diminutive angels who were slinking away from him.

Not because he was particularly frightening.

But because the stench of alcohol wafting from him was repulsive.

"Come on, I got enough for all of ya!" Thor continued to reach inside of a burlap sack and threw whole loaves of bread at the angels like they were footballs.

"Son...What are you doing?" Odin asked with white knuckles.

Normally, Thor held a sort of instinctive fear for his father, as most sons are prone to.

However, he was currently so inebriated that even though he could see that his old man wasn't happy, he still smiled like a big idiot and held out his arms wide.

"I'm feeding the pigeons! Come, join me father!"

"I think not." Odin's scowl only deepened further.

"Bah!"

Thor waved his hand dismissively before he took out another loaf of bread from his sack and hurled into the face of a cherubim; knocking him clean out.

"Bullseye!" Excited, Thor threw his hands in the air as he laughed merrily; his cheeks nearly as red as his hair.

Odin reached up to clasp his son on the shoulder roughly; making the leather pauldron on his shoulders creak.

"What!?" Thor snapped.

Odin took a moment to breathe in deeply so that he did not fly off the handle in front of all of these people present.

Besides, he understood exactly why Thor was choosing to act out in this manner specifically.

Feeding birds was Thrud's favorite pastime, and she hadn't been right ever since her mother suddenly went missing either.

Though the way she was handling it was different from Thor.

"Compose yourself."

Odin's words were simple, but it was clear that he was leaving no room for refusal.

And even though Thor didn't immediately sober up right away, he did seem to lose a bit of his jovial mood.

He hurled his sack of bread at a group of angels and knocked them all over like bowling pins.

Once he saw that his son was no longer in a playful mood, Odin gave him a single pat on the shoulder before walking back into the tent. "Clean yourself up before you come in here. You'll turn this tent into a gas chamber."

Thor lifted up his arm and gave himself a sniff.

He didn't understand the issue, as he didn't believe he smelled that bad.

But at that moment; a bunny, a dove, and a patch of grass all withered and died.

Nevertheless, he waved his hand over himself to will his body clean before drunkenly stumbling nto the tent.

And as soon as he was inside, his delirious smile returned back to his face.

"Well, isn't this a sight? The once great warriors of heaven, somehow kicked from your homes and coming here to lick your wounds like stray dogs! Oh what a glorious day!"

Odin knocked Thor over the head with his cane. "Shut up, sit down. We're not here for that." he muttered.

But of course, he was feeling the exact same as Thor.

He just couldn't be rude and openly voice it as he so wished.

What'd he look like; Zeus?

Thor finally sat down at the table and made the entire surface shake. "Come, come! I must know where the lot of you have been hiding and why your flockmates say you couldn't escape heaven!"

"Is it true that Abaddon has become one with it?" Odin asked, already knowing the answer.

Michael had some thick skin, but even he was beginning to get irritated. "…That is the gist of it."

"How is that even… no, I shouldn't ask how it is possible." Odin realized. "I should ask how you escaped alive instead."

"That's…" Michael began.

"Abaddon let them out."

*Ka-Tang!*

Everyone turned towards Azrael, who had received a notification on his phone and was now busy responding.

Like the old fossil he was, he was taking time to type out every letter with slow movements while occasionally pausing to think of how to phrase his sentences.

"Are you... texting?" Odin asked dryly.

"Didn't know you pigeons had phones in the white city..." Thor slurred.

Azrael shrugged his shoulders. "We don't. One of Abaddon's brides made this for me."

Even the crows paused and stared at the archangel like he'd grown a second head.

Odin's missing eye nearly grew back just so it could pop right out all over again.

Thor practically sobered up.

"Azrael... why the fuck would one of his wives give you a communication device?!" Odin asked dangerously.

"Ah, there was a young server at this restaurant we attended, a darkness dragon if I recall correctly. She seemed to be particularly enamored with me, and Valerie requested I give her a... chance, I believe she put it?"

The longer that the norse gods and crows listened, the more their mouths fell open from the sheer absurdity.

"She's a bit of a forceful woman and left me little room to refuse, even going so far as to create this device for me so that we could exchange contact information... What does 'WYD' mean?"

"Caw..." (What are you doing...."

"Ah, I see." Azrael nodded as he started typing slowly once again. "I... am... in... a... meeting... with.. my... siblings... How... is... your... day... going?... send."

Looking satisfied with himself, Azrael finally put his phone back down and looked up to see Thor and Odin glaring at him.

"What? Is that rude?"

Odin: "Rudeness is out of the question!"

Thor: "You've been missing for all of this time and you've spent it cozying up to the destroyer and his whores!?"

"I 'cozy up' to none. I followed my mother, and my mother went to see him. That is all."

"Asherah?? Why!?"

"Is that your business..?" Azrael tapped his finger on the table; a subtle but dangerous nod to the fact that he was going to lose his patience if his mother was discussed any further.

While it was true that death was on no one's side, he was a diehard Mommy's Boy to his core.

Odin tried to holster his own temper as well, if only so that he could get to the bottom of this development.

"Angel of Death... are you perhaps using this woman to gain some sort of intel on our enemy..? Using her as a double agent perhaps??"

"She is a waitress at a cafe. The only thing she could possibly tell me about the royal family is that his second daughter likes virgin Pina coladas and the first son is what she describes as a... 'Chicken Finger Adult'."

*Ka-Tang!*

Azrael took out his phone and his pale cheeks showed traces of red in them.

"Ah... She got a new dress, but doesn't like it because she feels like her breasts are too small... How do I tell her it looks nice?"

*Bang!*

Thor suddenly stood up and slammed his fist on the table; shattering the whole thing like it was made of legos.

"Enough... games! You want to be a traitor, you can die a traitor's death!"

Thor had barely reached for his hammer when suddenly he had a brand new gash in his arm and a chillingly cold metal was pressed against the flesh.

A seven foot tall scythe with a four foot blade was floating in the air beside Thor's arm, seemingly daring him to even twitch without permission.

"If you touch that pommel... you lose that arm. I assume that even as inebriated as you are, you can grasp that simple stipulation, yes?"

Immaculate blue lightning crackled across Thor's body, as the sky outside of the tent turned cloudy and unpleasant.

"Oh? Are we feeling lucky? I encourage you to try something, it's been eons since I was given a chance to exercise."

"PIGEONNN!!"

"SIT DOWN."

Odin banged his staff against the ground a single time, and his booming voice paired with the shockwave of his strike was enough to cause even Thor's powers to fizzle out.

The All-Father took deep breath after deep breath as he resisted his own urge to lash out at the seven.

He and Thor could be as mad as they wanted to be, but there was very little that they could do to an aspect of death itself.

Odin didn't say a word for several minutes as he clenched his staff.

Thor was absentmindedly bandaging his arm that he knew would literally never heal on it's own.

The only way for this kind of wound to close up would be if he stitched it shut and burned the the incision site closed.

'That's going to be such a bitch...'

Finally, Odin re-formed the table that Thor had broke and rested his elbows on the wooden surface.

Instead of looking at Azrael, Odin had to keep his eye focused on his crow so that he did not lose his temper.

"Azrael... are you planning to betray us all to that dragon and hand our lives to him on a silver platter?"

"What a foolish question... Your war with him is your own, and it has no bearing on me whatsoever. Whether you win, or he does, death comes to all just the same."

Azrael went back to typing on his phone like nothing had happened, leaving Odin with a massive migraine and Thor gritting his teeth.

"There is more you need to know." Michael suddenly said.

The archangels solemn voice was all it took for Odin's headache to grow exponentially worse. "Oh? And what is that?"

Michael sat up in his seat, already knowing this revelation was going to be a kicker.

"As of this moment, the heavenly faction can no longer physically participate in the war against Tehom. All battles you fight will have to be without us."

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