“You are hereby banished from the Silver City, Gabriel. For crimes against it.” Father...

“I’m sorry, brother.” Michael...

Gabriel woke with a start, heavy breathing. The Sin City. A very fitting place to be sent to considering what he did. No one was taking him up on a job, and he learned the hard way never to say he was a former Angel of the Lord, since no one would believe him. He wandered around, and since he was no longer watched by God, and his wings were no longer useful, he decided to get into... the thing.

As a former Archangel, he was pretty much invisible and it proved useful robbing people blind. Old people... he never really saw why people felt bad for robbing them. Most of them were sad and weak. Azrael could just breath on them and—

He stops. There it was again. His brothers and sisters back in the Silver City. Oh, how he missed them. Even when he was robbing people at knifepoint. How he prayed to see even Lucifer.

”Money please.” Gabriel gave his angelic smile as he held an old man up at knifepoint. The guy was wide-eyed, but he just handed over the money. A few hundred. He also recognized the man was Italian. ”Grazi.” He smiled again as he walked away. His old, angelic life serving God as his personal soldier and general was over. This life... this life was something he could get used to.

Gabriel...

I woke. Another voice just like before. Uriel maybe? He remembered being not only banished but also being excommunicated. Anyone who was found to have even spoken to him, whether physically or otherwise, he was to be banished. And he preferred any other way over that. The alley I slept in was surprisingly comfortable. I found a mattress, intact. But now...

Time for another day of robbing. I had robbed myself a nice coat and a pair of pants, but I still looked like a fucking homeless man. Next order of business, get a shirt. Nothing like a clothing store to rob. I had accumulated numerous knives, and had strapped them to the inside of my coat. I counted two serrated knives, one carving knife, and one big kitchen knife, with most of these having collected from dumpster-diving.

I drew out both of my serrated knives and stepped into the clothing store. A place aptly called Legions.

The shop looked good. He had to give it that. Racks with all manner of clothing from dress shirts to work clothes to suits. All he needed was shirt though so... He looked around. The owner didn’t seem to be around so...

He pulled a few work shirts and a suit and started to try them out. He found a mirror just behind the empty counter. Throwing on a blue work shirt, with his cloak... eh. He throws it right off. A red sort-of work shirt with his cloak. “Keeping.” For the suit, he strips down and throws it on. If not for the fact that he was barefoot, surrounded by creased, messed up clothes, and wielding multiple knives, he would’ve looked good.

At least in his humble opinion.

“I like this one.” He says to himself. He was busy taking off the suit, and folding it neatly when suddenly, he hears footsteps just outside the room where he was trying out clothes. Half-naked and genuinely scared, he readied his knives.

((Perfect time to interrupt, Xanxus.))