Samael groaned heavily as the light filtering in through the tattered blinds struck him in the face. He slowly opened his eyes, and slammed them back shut as the light filled his eyes. He rolled away from the searing light and slowly opened his eyes again. He slowly hoisted himself out of the bed, and walked into the bathroom. He started the shower, and spent several minutes trying to get the water to heat up before he remembered that his gas had been cut off last week. He let out a loud sigh and slipped off his boxers before stepping into the shower, the cold water uncomfortable, but undeniably soothing to his hung-over body. He washed himself thoroughly and stepped out of the shower, drying himself off with a towel that was more hole than cloth. He wrapped the towel around himself out of habit, and walked into his bedroom.

He put on a fresh pair of underwear and a clean suit identical to every other one he owned. He smiled slightly as he remembered how he gotten the bulk supply of Armani Knock-offs as thank you from that smuggling ring he did a few jobs before last year. He had trouble finding a clean tie, but he managed to scrounge up one that only had a slight whiskey stain on the back. He glanced over at his answering machine and saw that he had a message. He hit the play button hoping he had gotten a new job, but it was just a pre-recorded message trying to sell him some kind of time-share or some such. He chuckled wryly in disappointment and checked his mail, but it too was nothing but spam and ads. Despondently he checked his wallet to see how much money he had left, at first he thought it was empty, but he managed to find a five thousand yen note tucked up behind his fake ID. He did a few mental calculations, and decided since it was nowhere near enough to pay the rent, he may as well spend it on booze. He headed out of his apartment and walked the five blocks to his favorite bar, the plainly named "Mac's Bar".

He walked up to and sat down at the counter, ignoring the throngs of people scattered around the bar in various stages of sobriety. The bartender Mac greeted him with a slight nod, and Samael responded by slapping the bill on the table and placing his order. "You know what I like Mac, give me the cheapest thing you got that will get me drunk the fastest." The bartender let out a slight grunt and took the bill. He returned a moment later with a large bottle of amber liquid. There was no label on it, save for some duct-tape with the word "Whiskey" written on it in black sharpie marker. He took a slight sip and almost fell coughed it back up. There was no doubt in his mind that this was stuff had been brewed in someones bath-tub, and could probably make a normal human go blind. He took another sip of it and began to nurse the drink, knowing that it would hit him hard and fast. He suddenly felt a shiver of anticipation run up his spine, but he dismissed it as the whiskey starting to get a hold on him, and continued nursing the large bottle of boot-leg.

Since he got a little more used to his life on Earth, Laurence took the habit of wandering around Minami, jumping from rooftop to rooftop to explore his brand new environment. His work wouldn't start until the sun sets, so he had plenty of time to observe humans, stare at the sky pensively,eat carrots, and sometimes, venture beyond Minami's borders.

That day, he chose the last option.
Not that the carrots were not attractives, but curiosity sometimes defies all logic.

And this is how the white angel found himself rambling in Bay Area. It did not took him a while to understand that it wasn't the kind of place where a winged being should be. Nor any being at all. He was about to leave, when suddenly, a familiar shiver raced through his spine. He stopped short, and silently brushed the gray and tainted place with his crystalline pupils.
There was another angel here.
And not any angel.

His instinct leaded him to a small bar stuck between two derelict warehouses. When he opened the door, a mud-alcohol-sweat mixed smell slapped him right in the face. He covered his nose and mouth with his hand, trying to escape the heavy smell, but his eyes kept reminding him it was here by tearing up.
When he get a bit more used to the atmosphere, Laurence managed to move futher in the bar. There were lots of various creatures in there, but only the aura of one of them called him...

"Are you...?"

The white angel stopped in front of a man, the only one around here whose clothes didn't reflect his current state (his suit was perfectly clean ; he wasn't). His eyes widened as he slowly rememberred the face of the other angel.

"...Samael ? What are you doing here ?"

And by "here", he meant "in this putrefying cave that looks and smells -mainly smells- like the deep depth of some old overused socks".

Samel turned his head to face the man that approached him. Samael could not help but notice that the man did not seem to fit in at all. He was wearing a fine suit, not a cheap knock-off like Samael's, he was far too well taken care of, and he was visibly uncumfortable. In his alchohol fueled daze, Samael did not racognize the man before him as an angel, and he assumed he was a customer. "Listen, I am sure you are in a hurry to hire me, but as I am sure you can see, I am not exactly in a tip-fucking-top condition here." He clumsily fished around in his pocket and pulled out an ancient bussiness card, bent and covered in filth. If one squinted closely, they could make out the words "Samael Descartes, Any job, Any Price." written in plain black text, followed by an adress and phone number. Samael pressed the card into Laurences hand, and contiuned speaking. "Call that number or come by the address tomorrow, I will be available for anything you need." Before Laurence could respond, a new voice called his name.

Samael turned to face the newcomer, and his eyes narrowed into a glare when he heard him speak. Somehow Samael actualled managed to hiss out the word "You" at Uriel. "Well well, if it isn't mr. "brotherly love". Some fucking love, banishing me to this cespool." He raised his finger and pointed it at Uriel's chest. "You harped on and on about your love and peace bullshit, but when it got down to it, you were right there with those other arrogant motherfuckers when it came time to kick me out." Samael suddenly stopped yelling, and got an odd look on his face. He wobbled back and forth for a moment, before falling off of the stool and onto his face. It was quite an impressive passing out, as those things go. He went straight from vertical to horizontal, without seeming to pass between any intervening space. Samael let out a couple of unintelligible explitives, before falling fully into unconciousness.

Laurence looked at the dirty card Samael gave him, while readjusting his glasses. His eyes then slowly slipped to Samael's face, an eyebrow raising during the process. He opened his mouth, but before any word could come out, someone behind him called his name.
And not anyone.

"This is not a place for you, Laurence. Let's g-..."

The young man was about to retort his superior that it wasn't a place for an archangel either, when Uriel cut his sentence himself. Apparently he had just noticed Samael.

"...And this is not a place for you either, Samael. Come on you two. We move from here."

Though he didn't like to be babysitted like that, Laurence had to admit the idea of getting out of here was kind of charming. And the faster, the better. He didn't know how long his poor madeleine-scent-used nose could stand the nasty smell before forcing him to pass out. He nodded at Uriel and...

"You"

"Well well, if it isn't mr. "brotherly love". Some fucking love, banishing me to this cespool. You harped on and on about your love and peace bullshit, but when it got down to it, you were right there with those other arrogant motherfuckers when it came time to kick me out."

Samael suddenly stopped. Hiccuped. And dropped.
Laurence couldn't help but open his eyes wide before such an express change of state. He turned his head in Uriel's direction, and crossed his gaze.

"Seems like I'm not the one who most needs help right now."

The young angel crouched to Samael's side, and took one of his arm arround his shoulders to lift him up. He waited for Uriel to take care of the other arm before finally exiting the hideous place.

But, seriously.
What the hell with those archangels ?

"Well well, if it isn't mr. "brotherly love". Some fucking love, banishing me to this cespool. You harped on and on about your love and peace bullshit, but when it got down to it, you were right there with those other arrogant motherfuckers when it came time to kick me out."

Ah. Familly. A real pleasure. But before Uriel was able to make the slightest move, BOUM. An angel drunk as a lord with his head kissing the ground. Charming.

"Seems like I'm not the one who most needs help right now."

Oh, no shit, Sherlock ?

But it was not the moment to make irony, even inside is own mind. After all, the archangel couldn't leave his brother in this pitiful state. Without a word, he move toward the two others celestial beings and grabbing the other arm of the fallen angel. He needed fresh air. And a slap in his face. But fresh air was the most important.

When the three of them - well, more like the two and half of them - reached the outside, Uriel began to think that he did not expected such soul-stirring reunion. Talk about fun.

Wait, what fun ?
Oh, Uriel, come on, you're not fun anyway.

But back to the topic. The two white angels were right in front of the bar. With a druken wreck in their arms. Hm. Uriel waited for Laurence to follow him and helping him to put Samael against the wall. Finally free of his weight. Good. He had the fresh air. Now, time for the slap in the face. The archangel bend toward his fallen brother and hit him right in the cheek. With an absolute pokerface please.

"Wake up, boozy."