In Nomine: Los Angeles (IC)

[seatyger]

"You're right. It was a long time ago, and we certainly had some good times then. You have been keeping yourself out of trouble, I hope?"

"For the most part. I had a nasty affair with a Shedim some time back. Left me in a state of disrepair for a couple decades," Mel answered. "This is the first time I've set foot on Earth since then."

He glances away from the Elohim for a moment, letting his eyes wander across the assembled Angels with a small frown. "I am a bit concerned that Khalil has not joined us, though he did send me a message that he was going to the nightclub nearby - Oblivion. I hope he is being cautious, for it is a den of depravity. He may be finding more trouble than it is worth. Though..." He sighs softly. "You try telling that to a Servant of Gabriel."

Malchiel flashed his trademark quirky half-smile in response. He knew quite well.

Jerichael notices the newcomer with Mercy, and quirks a brow darkly. "Mercy has made herself a new friend. I do not know this one." The Servant of Laurence, motions for Malchiel to join him as he makes his way across the bar towards Mercy and Jathiriel.

He barely makes it half-way before his cell phone rings, and he chuckles. "Excuse me a moment, my friend." Pulling the cell from his pocket, he turns to the side and answers it....

Nodding, Mel continued toward the pair. Mercy was another angel he knew quite well, though he couldn't recall the last time they interacted. He stopped next to the hooded girl, his eyes making contact with the Mercurian's before training themselves on the newcomer.

[Failed Phantasm]

He breathed a quiet sigh as he followed Mercy into the building, not bothering to stifle it as the tide of sight and scent and sound washed over them both. Far harsher than the body odor and the alcohol, and more glaringly obvious than the 4/4 time of whatever the Hell was playing over the speakers, was the clash of clothing styles. Had he the ability, he might have changed the music to something more fitting – alas that he had never been a Servitor of Lightning or Technology. ‘Let’s see how many I get right on my first try, ’ he thought. ‘Longcoat guy, tweed Einstein lookalike, briefcase Navy man, old lady, Best Buy wage-slave, bird girl, and–’ He allowed himself to give the pigeon the barest moment’s disbelieving stare before looking away. ‘And somehow there are celestials on both sides of this War who have the sheer audacity to wonder how humans can pick them out of crowds.’

With so many eyes – and likely more than a few weapons – trained on him, he fought the desperate, overwhelming urge to bring his vessel’s palm to its face; sudden moves were probably not a good idea right now. Instead, he opened himself to the Symphony, straining to hear the harmonies between the angels gathered there. He had, to their credit, missed a few angels based on his first impression of their vessels’ attire, but the notes of respect that he could follow back to their source revealed them just as surely. But theirs was not a perfectly harmonious song. ‘Ah, so that is trouble in Paradise that I’m hearing,’ he thought as snatches of “grudge” and “distrust” and “fear” sounded long and loud over all else. But perhaps he focused overmuch on the discordant notes because he was still an un-Redeemed demon.

Unfortunately, the half-minute’s reprieve was over only all too quickly and he was left to watch Adele, Malchiel, and Jerichael approach him directly, but at least the latter was sidetracked by a timely phone call. Since the former had spoken to Mercy and not him directly, he let the Angel of Flowers field the question – he had just said not three minutes earlier that he would follow her lead – and assessed the information his celestial perceptions had gleaned. ‘None of them know who I am,’ was his first conclusion, and he found little evidence to counter it. ‘Prudent of Mercy, I suppose,’ he granted; ‘If the local Triad knew I was here, no doubt they would have kicked down her door just on principle alone, though I suspect her dislike of two of them is well-reciprocated.’ Unfortunately, that meant the awkward introductions had to be made here and now, with enough tension and testosterone in the air to make him feel as if this were a Tether – whether of War or the Sword or Stone didn’t matter, since he was too weak to fight back effectively after his escape from Hell. He had been entirely honest in his promise to Mercy, but the doubt that he would be treated kindly in this place was beginning to gnaw.

---

Spoiler

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CONDITION
Health 96 / 96, Essence 10 / 10

➜ Body 12 / 12
➜ Mind 24 / 24
➜ Soul 60 / 60

ACTIVE EFFECTS

1. Truthfulness/6: Roll (Will – Truthfulness) whenever you attempt to lie or use the Balseraph resonance. Failure obligates you to tell the truth instead.

[Erulasto]

Ramiel

There is a pregnant pause on the other end of the line as Ramiel speaks, though the sound of a number of other voices speaking in the background filters through the line.
After a moment, Jerichael sighs a bit. "You're in luck. I've got one with me right now. Come to the Howitzer as soon as you can. We've got our own situation, but I suspect, given recent developments on our end that your problem and ours may be related. I've gathered up everyone in LA that I can find but our resident Malakim of Gabriel. I'm just about to start a little conference. Get your ass over here as fast as you can and I'll fill you in when you arrive. Then you can tell us what you've discovered." Jerichael hangs up a moment after he receives any sort of confirmation from Ramiel that would acquiesce to his request.

As Ramiel clears the school, and passes into the lightly forested field that the sports fields lay next to, he catches a glimpse of Agatha standing across the field next to Brody's car, looking in his direction with a dark, angry scowl on her face. But then, after a moment, she simply turns and gets into the vehicle, giving Brody a quick kiss on the cheek before they drive away.

* * * * *


Sarah

Valarniel perks up visibly when Sarah offers him the cable and plug, his smile warm and appreciative. "Oh! Thanks a bunch! You're a life saver! Jerichael and Solomon have me running their IT for this meeting and I'd hate to let them down!" He moves to plug the tablet in, and huffs out a relieved breath when the charging light flicks on. "Thank the Lord...or thank a Sarah, I suppose would be more appropriate." He chuckles weakly at his own - poor - attempt at humor. The tablet has a video file queued on the screen, and in small text Sarah catches the name 'Thatch' on the file title.

Glancing back to Sarah. "Do you know of anyone else who may need of some....technical support?"

Valarniel suddenly stills, eyes locked at the door where Mercy and Jathiriel had just entered.

"Who are they?" He asks in a quiet voice.

* * * * *


Haralambos

Morgannin watches the pigeon go on what could only be described as a pigeon tirade, and perhaps if one were to be closely watching, she may even quirk the smallest of smiles at the Seraph's antics - though one would be hard pressed to have her admit it. It's a bit of a foreign expression on her face, so unused to human interaction.

When he finishes, she dips her head slowly in thought. "I will....consider it. I may do this for you. In return...you will do something for me, yes?"
Morgannin follows the gaze of Haralambos towards Mercy and her companion, head tilting in that strange way that birds do. She hops from her stool, and nearly scuttles across the room towards the newcomers, leaving Haralambos to ponder her last words as he looks upon the Seneschal and her friend himself.

* * * * *


Malchiel

While Jerichael speaks on the phone to someone named Ramiel, he leaves Mel to meet with Mercy and her companion. Mercy smiled as she saw Mel approach, and gave a small bow of greeting. Since Adele had come over as well, Mercy took the opportunity to make a brief introduction to the Elohim and the Ofanim.

"Hello Malchiel. It's so good to see you. How have you been?" Then, glancing at Adele and Malchiel, the Mercurian gestures to Jathiriel at her side and tips her head in his direction. "Allow me to introduce the newest employee of my flowershop....Jason....or Jathiriel, if you'd prefer to stand on formality." She chuckles softly as if she had made some incredible joke.

* * * * *


Jathiriel

Malchiel and Adele now having been introduced to the Balseraph, with Morgannin approaching at the tail end of the introduction, it seemed as if no further elaboration on his identity would be forthcoming from Mercy at this point.

Morgannin does not pause her approach until she is directly within his personal space - not in a threatening manner, mind you, simply uncomfortably close. She actually sniffs him a couple times, and tilts her head oddly to the side.

"Why do you smell like a closet? The Servant of Jordi inquires. It's an honest question, Jathiriel would assume for there is little hit of snark or malice in her voice, simple curiosity. She turns her strange black gaze to Mercy. "Do you make him sleep in the closest?"

Adele snickers at the exchange, and sets both the glasses and wine bottles down on a nearby table before pouring a generous glass for herself, then fills the other glass - though she doesn't make a move to offer it to anyone - and turns her wide eyes longingly towards Sarah before glancing back to Jathiriel.

"Hiya Jason. Welcome to the party!" The enthusiasm is palpable, coming off the Ofanim of Wind in waves.

* * * * *

Sarah, Haralambos, Malchiel, Sopholael and Jathiriel
8:30 PM


”All right then!” Jerichael speaks, rather loudly as he hangs up his cell phone and claps his hands together twice to get everyone's attention.

”We can finish introductions and pleasantries when we're done. We have some work to do and I'm loath to wait any longer."

When he's done speaking he waits for everyone to take a seat, and when he see's everyone is ready, Jerichael steps over to the far wall, and switches on one of the wide-screen televisions that is suspended there. Normally, it would be playing football or baseball, or maybe even a UFC fight if that was what the usual crowd was in the mood for at the time. Now, however, the screen flickers to life and a simple Windows desktop is shown. A single file is shown on the desktop labelled: Thatch Vlog.mp3.

Jerichael turns to the assembled Angels and with a grim expression begins to explain.

”Some of you know Thatch. Some don’t. He’s been in and out of LA for a while now. As long as I’ve owned the Howitzer, at least. His recent return to us over the summer was for a reason he only revealed to myself, and Solomon. His plan was to gather some evidence, before bringing it to the rest of you. Eleven days ago we received this file.” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the screen. ”He sent it to a secure server run by Halo Dataworks – a Divine front for some of our earthly endeavors. It was heavily encrypted, so we had to bring in Valarniel over here, on loan from Jean, to help us crack it. Go ahead and play it.” The young man in the Best Buy suit shifts uncomfortably at the attention, while he maneuvers his fingers across his iPad - now charging and in no danger of dying before his task is done - for a moment, before glancing up at the television. It crackles with static for a moment, before a frozen image flickers to life.

Upon the screen is paused video depicting Thachael in a coffee shop, and then with a few murmurs of surprise among the gathered Angels, the video log begins to play.

Spoiler: The Vlog of Thachael, Servant of Litheroy

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Spoiler: September 4th, 2018

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<A screen flickers on, showing a comfortable looking coffee shop late into the evening. Few patrons are visible in the background, and the glow of a crackling fire is seen in the periphery as a non-descript man of middling years settles onto a plush leather chair and adjusts the broad-rimmed black glasses upon the bridge of his nose.>>

“Hey. Yeah, hi. Good evening!” He says with exaggerated charm.

“This is Thachael. My friends call me Thatch.” Thatch smiles, and scratches the two-day salt and pepper stubble upon his chin. “Humans have such fascinating creations. ‘Vlogging’, I believe they call this one. It’s a good way of revealing things so no one else has the ability to censor it without some difficulty. Litheroy certainly approves!”

Thatch takes a tall foam cup and sips the steaming coffee within, before idly gesturing to the cup with his free hand. ”Another one of humanities greatest inventions. Coffee! Oh, Holy Holy Holy! I wonder sometimes if this is what Dionysis used to call Ambrosia? I wish I could have asked him when I had time.” He sighs, and sets the cup aside.

His expression turns serious, as deep and rather intense brown eyes fixate on the blinking red light next to the webcam he’s recording from.

“Okay. Enough of the pleasantries. We’ve got some pretty deep **** coming our way. Revelatory in the sort of manner that could shake the foundations of our efforts in the War.”

Thatch smiles grimly, and steeples his fingertips together.

“A couple of weeks ago a few friends of mine doing Blandine’s work in the Marches started to put two and two together, and realized that there was a growing pattern to some of the content that the Dreamers in Los Angeles were having. I love a good mystery, so they asked me to take a look into it. I found some rather disturbing things. First off, according to a friend of mine who helps Yves maintain the Library, each of the Dreamers having this dream seem to be on the list of potential Prophets. For those of you whose Superiors haven’t clued them in yet? This means their dreams can be frighteningly accurate.”

Thatch takes another small sip of his coffee, before heaving a heavy sigh.

“These dreams-slash-prophecies all point towards a shift in the celestial political landscape, and possibly a shift in the power balance between Heaven and Hell. That’s the good news. The bad news is that we don’t know much beyond the fact that there are five mortals who are at the crux of it.”

<<A sweet-sounding voice greets Thatch from off-screen, and he grins widely as his attention turns to the newcomer, and his hand raises to close the lid on his laptop, ending the recording abruptly.>>

Spoiler: September 5th,2018

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<<The video begins, though little is able to be made out as the webcam is shifted about in what appears to be a bedroom, while the sound of Thatch huffing in exertion sounds through the built-in microphone. After a few moments, the camera settles and shows Thatch’s face close to the camera, almost taking up the full screen. Behind him, tangled in silk sheets, is revealed to be an attractive young lady, though her face is hidden in the pillows while a soft snoring is heard from her.>>

“Sorry for that.” He glances behind him with a small smile. “The corporeal world certainly has its share of pleasures.” His voice is soft, almost whispered, and a bit harder to hear in the silence of what appears to be a hotel room. “Where was I? Right. Right. So, we’ve got five mortals who somehow will shake the foundation of the War. How absurd does that sound? Mortals, precious as they are, affecting Heaven and Hell on such a predicted scale? Well, I’m not one to put a lot of faith into whispered chicaenery without some sort of proof. I realize how that sounds, coming from me, but Revelations aren’t really Revelations if they’re not true. They’re just lies. So I did some digging and guess what I found?”

He smiles a bit, and turns to rummage around somewhere next to him. A moment or two later, he returns his gaze to the screen and holds up an incredibly old compass of tarnished brass. It could easily be hundreds of years old, from when great sailors sought out new routes to India and beyond. He turns it over and shows the brass back, whereon a quartet of stylized musical notes are displayed roughly correlating to the four cardinal directions and a fifth is displayed in the center.

“This is, if you can believe it, the personal compass of Martin Luther, circa 1515. It’s also a relic that is, according to my friend in the Library, supposedly attuned to a particular prophecy. I asked him to make some inquiries and try and find a copy of this prophecy for me. In the meantime, the one recurring theme in these prophetic dreams is a rather….sad….individual. Cassiel. A Word-bound Cherub who has had a few patrons over the years. She started as a servant of Andrealphus back when his Word was Love and he hadn’t fallen. When he fell, her heart broke for she truly loved him. Raphael picked her up, as they were friends in the early days and nursed her broken heart. Eventually, Cassiel was again abandoned by her Superior when Raphael sacrificed herself. She took up service with Eli but by this point, Cassiel wasn’t much for doing anything beyond singing her lamentations and dwelling in her own misery. ”

Thatch sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose before rubbing his eyes in weariness.

“She’s a great singer. One of the best of the Angels. You can imagine what sort of praise that is, considering what we are. She was even offered a position as a Trisagonist, but she turned it down. The Seraphim Council, along with the support of Eli, Novalis, Gabriel and a few others who wanted to see her recover from her losses with renewed purpose gave her the Word of Tears and charged her with helping others heal their own sorrows. She’s got a purpose now, and she’s great at it. Warm smiles, friendly shoulders to cry on, everything a human would need to cope with their own losses and sorrows. You can still see her own sadness and grief deep in her eyes if you look hard enough. Cassiel being involved in some sort of grand prophecy makes me and some of my associates nervous.”

“I’ll let you know more when I get some more answers."

<<Thatch glances at the young woman behind him with a soft expression, and then reaches over and clicks off the recording, turning the screen black.>>

Spoiler: September 9th, 2018

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<<When the video recording flickers to life, Thatch is revealed to be sitting in an old, creaky wooden rocking chair in what appears to be a log cabin of sorts. He’s sporting a black eye, and a split lip that he’s tenderly applying some ice.>>

“So, things are getting complicated. I figured out how the compass works. Give it some essence and it will lead you to one of the mortals. I found one. His name is Malcolm Price. He’s a band student at Hollywood Arts High School in Los Angeles. I wasn’t able to approach him – wasn’t sure I even wanted to. Just kept an eye on him for a couple days. Turns out, I wasn’t the only one watching him. I really don’t know how, but the Demons are in on this as well. I don’t know how much they’re aware of, but they know at least enough to be watching this Price kid. I got jumped by a couple of their goons. They roughed me up, scared me off. But they didn’t get the compass.”

He sets the ice pack aside, and takes a large swig from a frosty can of beer sitting next to him.

“I haven’t heard anything from my friend in the Library. His silence is a bit concerning. I’m going to put in a call to the local militant arm. I get the feeling things are going to get a bit more dangerous soon enough.”

<<He reaches over, takes another swig of beer and shuts down the video feed.>>

Spoiler: September 10th,2018

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<<The webcam clicks on without fanfare, revealing what appears to be a rather barren warehouse. A thunderously loud foghorn in the distance perhaps indicating its location near the harbor. The camera is focused on a three of figures sitting around a large wooden spool of cables tipped on its side, using it as a makeshift table. The compass sits in the center, surrounded by a few beer cans and a take-out carafe of coffee. One of the men sitting on a small wooden box near the makeshift table is Thatch. One is a tall man with broad shoulders and a buzz-cut wearing a stained wife-beater and a pair of stone-washed blue jeans. The third is a lean man with a rich, olive complexion in a green wool trench coat covered in patches of brown and grey leather where it was hastily mended. His hair is long and wavy black, tied in a haphazard ponytail.>>

“You can’t be serious!” The bald man thunders. “If you’re right and you can’t ascend while you’ve been feedin’ that damn compass essence, you’re a sittin’ duck! At least come to the Hostel so my boys can keep an eye on ya.”

The dark haired man in the green jacket shakes his head slowly, drumming dark fingertips on the side of a can of beer held lightly in held. When he speaks, his voice is thick with a rich accent. “If Thachael is walking around with a bunch of your boys it will do naught but draw extra attention to him. Unless YOU are willing to take the compass yourself?” There is a hint of mirthful teasing in his inquiry, to which the bald man scowls and looks away, shoving his meaty hands into his pockets.

“Gentlemen, please. Now is not the time for divisiveness. We know the first of the mortals, and that the compass will help us find the others. We need everyone to be on board with this. By God! Bethrezen is here, and if HE has taken an interest in this little endeavor of ours then I, for one, am willing to put aside any petty squabbles – yes, even with Morgannin and Adewale – and try and have this resolved as fast as po…..”

<<Thachael’s tirade is cut short, as a thunderous explosion rips through the far wall of the warehouse, sending smoke and debris scattering across the room. From the dusty cloud that has begun to fill the room, flashes of muzzle fire can be seen while the harsh popping of firearms discharge raise in cacophony. Thatch snatches the compass from the top of the make-shift table moments before the large, bald man grabs it and heaves it across the room into the cloud of smoke with as much ease as throwing a paper airplane. A couple voices rise in pain at the clattering crash of the spool slamming into something.>>

“Thatch! Go now! Keep it safe and get it to the others.” The bald man growls, as he draws a hefty aluminum baseball bat from the floor next to him. The green-coated man clasps his hands together and murmurs a beautiful incantation as the smoke of the explosion begins to swirl up from its uncontrolled spill and begins to take shape into a dome in the center of the room before pulling an ancient looking scimitar from beneath his jacket and turning to face the handful of mean looking bikers and gangland soldiers that had begun to swarm in.

<<Thatch turns with the compass held tightly to his chest and sprints towards the laptop and attached webcam. A hand grips it and slams it shut moments after a monstrously tall figure clad in black-lacquered, baroque plate armor steps through the growing throng of soldiers and thugs, and raises a great two-handed flanged Morningstar in salute to the bald man and the green-coated man.>>

Spoiler: September 14th, 2018

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<<The webcam blinks to life, flickering with the occasional burst of static. It reveals a singularly nasty spider-webbed crack on the bottom corner, revealing some damage. Thatch leans back with a pained groan, his face battered and bloody – fresh blood still seeping from a slowly healing gash above his left eye. A dark stain on his blue button-down shirt slowly spreads while a bloody hand presses against it.>>

“Ahhh….damn. This isn’t good. Look, I stashed the compass somewhere safe. I couldn’t ascend while I was actively using it and they’ve been hot on my heels for days. There are some things you need to know and I’m running out of time.”

He signs softly, before continuing. “First off….There are five mortals involved. The compass will help you find them, but be careful, the Demons want them to. We still haven’t figured out what’s really going on, but we know enough to make this a high priority situation.”

“Second, we know one of the mortals. Malcolm Price. Music student at Hollywood Arts. He’s under Infernal watch, and I’ve asked Morgannin to keep an eye on him as well. She’s so touchy, but her birds are everywhere. We don’t know the others.”

“Third. If you’re the poor sods who are getting this message dumped in your lap, I’ve got a piece of advice. Turns out, there’s a rogue servant of Kronos in town somewhere. His name is Jathiriel. The last message I got from my friend in the Library was that maybe Jathiriel is a bit more in-the-know on this situation. Even if he doesn’t realize it yet. Make sure Asmodeus’ dogs don’t get him first…and by God, make sure Adewale keeps his distance. Water-boarding may be effective, but it’s not going to encourage a renegade to keep being…all….you know….rebellious.”

Thatch coughs violently, a dribble of blood leaking from the corner of his lips. A loud crash is heard from somewhere outside the slum apartment he seems to be hiding in.

“Damn it! They’re here already.” Thatch begins to type furiously, sparing the occasional glance towards the front door of the suite as loud footsteps thunder down the hall, closer and closer.

“All shining and silver,
With a beautiful face,
You look into me,
And find this place.” He chuckles darkly, and cringes as he utters such a dissonant reveal.

“We can’t let them find it first. It’s in my favorite coffee shop. The one where I met…her. My Lady in Red. She can tell you what street it’s on.” He smiles sadly for a moment, glancing down to a small, fragile looking necklace in his bloody hand – a one-winged ruby heart on a thin gold chain. “And…please. Tell her….tell her I’m sorry I won’t be meeting her in Bora Bora this time.” His corporeal vessel begins to slough off, unravelling like a hundred thousand ribbons untying at once.

<<The front door splinters open, as a swirling cloud of angry, gnashing black surges into the room past the heavily armored figure from the warehouse. The cloud screeches, and the lens cracks again as it swarms over the manifesting celestial form of Thachael and a cry like the pealing of a perfect bell sounds out, before the video screen flickers with static, and freezes…..>>

A heavy silence falls over the common room of the Howitzer, and whether anyone else had overheard or made the connection, there were a few glances towards Jathiriel with mixed emotions on their faces. Then, as if to break the tension, Solomon clears his throat a bit uncomfortably and softly speaks. ”We have received confirmation this morning from Heaven. Thachael’s heart has been broken and his forces dispersed. He is gone.”

[XIII]

Satisfied with Justin's disposition, it was time to move out.

Next stop, Oblivion. Khalil chuckled to himself at the thought.

Khalil hoped that his cherished Beetle would give him no issues this morning. Luckily, only three tries before the rear-compartment engine roared to life. Traffic was no issue, thank goodness. Khalil had no issue with the joyriding women, there was no wrong in having a little fun. He just hoped that is all it was, and that nobody was hurt. He preferred the classics anyway, he patted the steering wheel affectionately, "Don't worry old girl, I only have eyes for you".

Khalil hoped this would go smoothly. Get in, get the girl, get out. He kinda also hoped he would get to burn some filthy heretics and demons, he could use the practice. After parking, Khalil made his way into the club.

[JeenLeen]

Haralambos starts to fly after Morgannin, towards the newcomer, but at the clap of Jerichael's hands he instead lands on one of the stools.

As the videos play, he is at first somewhat distracted. Dreamers? Some prophecy? Tricky stuff. Better to let others just figure it out and tell me who to punch back to Hell. But as more details unwind, he gets a gut feeling. Maybe that girl... could she be one of the Five? And Lee is probably looking for one of them, too. He's glad he got to report before the meeting started.

He also realizes that Bethrezen being involved means he needs to contact Michael. That... is costly in essence, especially if he needs to kill Lee to stop him from trying to summon his boss to find one of the Five.

He looks around the crowd. Didn't Michael say one of his cherubs was in town now? Haralambos hoped to talk to him. Maybe that newcomer was him.

Spoiler: OOC

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I will be posting as I can.
By the way, I realize that Jerichael's is the next person to speak after my Resonance roll in the OOC thread (check digit 4). Do I detect anything hidden or dishonest about his words?

I hope it's cool with Haralambos having heard about Ramiel but not met him yet. Makes sense based on timing of Ramiel's assignment and how busy he's been with Malcolm.

[/spoiler]

[Anyr]

Valarniel's gratitude warmed Sarah like sunlight. Little moments like this made life all the sweeter. It certainly helped her weather the boy's terrible jokes. She was about to answer his next question (and perhaps fulfil another Need), when he suddenly looked towards the door. Turning, Sarah saw two new arrivals. For some reason, Valarniel seemed quite shaken by them. She did her best to put him at ease.

"The woman is Mercy. She's a Mercurian of Novalis. Really nice, generous person. The man is new. I've never...seen...him...before..."

She trailed off. Her eyes were locked with those of Mercy's companion. In him, she sensed a very familiar desire: One that no Angel could possess. Sarah had yearned for it herself, not so long ago. A shiver ran through her. Mercy had made a very bold, very risky move. She needed all the help she could get. Trying her best to sound casual, Sarah said some quick goodbyes to Valarniel.

"Could you excuse me for a minute? I need to go say hello."

Sarah made a beeline across the room. She quickly insinuated herself into the conversation circle around Mercy. The other occupants barely received a glance from her. Even Adele and her waiting wine glass were mostly ignored. Sarah was on a mission. Her friendly greeting carried a lot of hidden weight.

"Good to see you again, Mercy. Everything going well? Please let me know if you need anything."

That wasn't what she really wanted to say. She actually wanted to grab Mercy's shoulders, shake her, and scream 'are you insane?!'. But that wouldn't do anyone any good. There was a ticking time bomb that needed defusing. Sarah advanced to her main target. Moving right in front of Jason, she extended a welcoming hand to him. If he accepted, he'd feel the nervous tension running through it. Sarah's calm appearance was a front. She was actually on the verge of panic.

"And hello to you too. My name is Sarah. I'm so glad that you've decided to join us. Don't hesitate to ask me for help."

The look in her eyes left no room for doubt. She knew what Jason really was. But rather than being repulsed, she looked worried; Worried for him. In the brief time available to her, Sarah tried to convey a simple message: 'I'm on your side'.

8:30 PM

Unfortunately, Redemption would have to wait. The meeting's reason for existence soon monopolised everyone's attention. They all gathered in front of the big screen. Sarah made sure to claim a seat beside Jason. She thought that whatever the presentation was about, it wouldn't hold her interest; She was wrong. Thatch's blog proved (to put it mildly) very engaging. Its videos evoked nostalgia, warmth, intrigue, fear...and, finally, grief. Solomon confirmed the last message's truth. Thatch was gone. Sarah sat in silence, processing the news. She thought back to the few times she'd crossed paths with him. He'd asked her so many questions. Now that friendly, inquisitive servant of truth was beyond any help she could give. All she could do was honour his last testament: Protect the compass, the five humans, and the Demon of Kronos sitting beside her.

Hopefully not alone.

[seatyger]

Once introduced, Mel greeted Adele. "Impressive driving, though I'm sure the bus driver is reconsidering several life choices following that close call."

"Hello Malchiel. It's so good to see you. How have you been?"

"I have been well, Mercy, and as provoking as the matter of our gathering is. It's pleasing to see you, too."

Then, glancing at Adele and Malchiel, the Mercurian gestures to Jathiriel at her side and tips her head in his direction. "Allow me to introduce the newest employee of my flowershop....Jason....or Jathiriel, if you'd prefer to stand on formality." She chuckles softly as if she had made some incredible joke.

Mel cast Mercy a sideways glance, at once an expression of acknowledgment of her joke and a sign of affection for the Mercurian (well, about as affectionate as Mel could be with his long-time friends and colleagues).

"Jathiriel, is it? I don't know the name. What is your Choir?" he asked politely, though quite aware the young celestial was nervous about something. Perhaps he was an outcast seeking redemption, another stray Mercy successfully brought in from the cold.

However, before he could get an answer, the waif-form of Morgannin passed through the tiniest gap in the group and asked that odd question. In most instances, Mel would simply ignore the Friend of Beasts' quirkiness, but the sincere curiosity in her expression and voice gave him pause. What would possess her to believe the young man smelled of closet, musty and--

His thoughts were again interrupted by another celestial pushing her way into the middle of the growing crowd. He knew of Sarah, the Bright Lilim of Marc, more than he knew her. She and another companion had come to him recently about a reliquary he had made for a seraph some years ago. Her behavior was also curious, especially directly inserting herself immediately in front of the newcomer. It was as if she sensed something the others had not. Curious.

”All right then!” Jerichael speaks, rather loudly as he hangs up his cell phone and claps his hands together twice to get everyone's attention.

”We can finish introductions and pleasantries when we're done. We have some work to do and I'm loath to wait any longer."

When he's done speaking he waits for everyone to take a seat, and when he see's everyone is ready, Jerichael steps over to the far wall, and switches on one of the wide-screen televisions that is suspended there. Normally, it would be playing football or baseball, or maybe even a UFC fight if that was what the usual crowd was in the mood for at the time. Now, however, the screen flickers to life and a simple Windows desktop is shown. A single file is shown on the desktop labelled: Thatch Vlog.mp3.

Jerichael turns to the assembled Angels and with a grim expression begins to explain.

”Some of you know Thatch. Some don’t..."

Malchiel was of the former category. He knew Thatch well, though they hadn't worked together -- at least, not in recent memory beyond a brief favor.

A heavy silence falls over the common room of the Howitzer, and whether anyone else had overheard or made the connection, there were a few glances towards Jathiriel with mixed emotions on their faces. Then, as if to break the tension, Solomon clears his throat a bit uncomfortably and softly speaks. ”We have received confirmation this morning from Heaven. Thachael’s heart has been broken and his forces dispersed. He is gone.”

From the moment Jathiriel's name was mentioned, Malchiel's eyes fell directly on him. His gaze held no suspicion, no malice toward the fallen; it was like he was boring into the celestial's very soul to determine the veracity of his desire to reform. Not to judge, but to understand.

When Jerichael announced that Heaven confirmed Thatch's dispersal, Mel took a step forward. "I created that compass for Thachael, and I can describe it with detail for anyone may need that," he offered.

[Siegemonkeys]

"Perfect. Hold tight, I'll get there fast as I can." Ramiel responds, hanging up the phone and climbing into his car, a beat-up old toyota that could pass for a cheap hand-me-down from his 'parents'. He missed the old motorcycle he owned the last time he came down to earth, but this was enough for getting around in, even if it wasn't in style. Clearing past Agatha and Brody with hardly a glance in their direction (this time not on purpose), he makes his way for the Howitzer, fast as he could.

When Ramiel finally arrived, he found a place to park and sighed, reaching into his console for a pack of cigarettes. With a click of his zippo he lit one up, grabbing his backpack and bringing it in with him. Pushing the door to the Howitzer open, the other angels present would look back to see what looked like a teenager, backpack slung over his soulders with a lit cigarette in hand. "Sorry that took a while, Jerichael. Got here fast as I could." He apologizes, looking up at the screen to see the end of Thachael's vlog, something he'd been shown prior to his assignment here. "Looks like we've got related business after all. Except I've brought some fresh new information with me."

[JeenLeen]

As the others are offering information, Haralambos also pipes in, speaking a human voice from his pigeon vessel.

"Lee, the demon of gluttony, is trying to contact his Superior to get help finding somebody by tomorrow night. I think it's related. I also encountered a teenage girl earlier today. My gut tells me she might be one of the Five." He looks at the Seneschal overseeing the proceedings. "I already reported the details, so I'll you all decide what needs to be done. But I can help protect someone or send a demon to Hell."

[Erulasto]

OBLIVION NIGHTCLUB

Khalil Dhali

In Compton at the corner of East Johnson Street and Santa Fe Avenue is a warehouse-sized building painted entirely matte black on the exterior. It’s constructed entirely of concrete on the outside, with a large set of steel barn doors on the front leading into a coat check area. Beyond the coat check is a second set of heavy wooden double doors. In large black letters edged with LED light that fade between purple and blue are the words OBLIVION.

Two men in snug black t-shirts and jeans stand on either side of the door, controlling how many go in and out of the club – considering the line wraps around the block, they’ve got their hands full.

Deep, heavy bass rumbles from within – felt like some monstrous, infernal pulse. Every time the double doors in the coat room open, a heavy wall of sound thunders out into the street drowning out the myriad of conversations being held by those in line.

The people waiting to get in run the gamut of styles, though there is a large number of candy ravers, and gothic punk styles present – but even a few in board shorts and colorful Hawaiian button down shirts.

A black Cadillac sits across the street and down a block or so, engine idling. A man in a brilliant, ruby red silk shirt and finely tailored black suit jacket and slacks leans against the passenger side door smoking a cigarette with a wide, toothy grin. His hair is spikey and black, and his features are sharp and chiseled. The driver is a thickset man of maybe Mexican, or Puerto Rican descent with a shaved head hidden under a ruby red bandana and coiling tattoos across both arms and his chest – visible from beneath a leather vest. A Winchester Super X Pump shotgun sits in the passenger seat next to the driver, who is sipping from a bottle of Corona.

A couple of youths from the line keep glancing over in their direction, and murmuring amongst themselves. Eventually, with some goading, two young ladies sheepishly walk across the street towards the black Cadillac. They were cute young things, dressed in clothes that were far to risqué for the overall appearance of their age. By the slight wobble of the girls in their high heels, it would appear they had already been drinking. As he noticed them approach, the smoking man slid off the side of the car, still smiling, and stepped towards the girls with open arms. There was a handful of cash offered to the man, and he took it and gave the bills a quick count before tucking it into his jacket pocket and producing a small plastic bag filled with a handful of brightly colored pills.

Khalil successfully parked in one of the nearby lots – there was an abundance of other cars parked here, far too many if the reputation for intoxication and inebriation was deserved - and approached the line for the club. The bouncers eyed Khalil curiously as he approached, and snickered slightly at the sight.

”Hey man, you don’t strike me as the kind of guy who likes this scene.”

* * * * *


The HOWITZER

Sarah, Haralambos, Sopholael, Ramiel, and Jathiriel

Ramiel

When Ramiel entered, the bar was abuzz with silent inquisitiveness. He could feel the questions unasked hovering on the periphery, and the room seemed charged with tension.

When he spoke to Jerichael, the Seneschal glanced up at him with a grim expression and nodded. "I take it you're fully in the loop already, then. Good." He motioned for Ramiel to join him at the front of the room next to the television, now showing a simple black screen with a looped arrow in the event that anyone wanted to watch it again. Valarniel had not shut it down, and waited off to the side patiently.

Jerichael returned his attention to the rest of the assembled crowd. "People, this is Ramiel, a Cherub of War. Michael sent him down to us on special assignment after word of this video got to the Seraphim Council. He's been sent to keep an eye on Malcolm just in case some of Thatch's predictions end up being accurate. Go ahead and fill us in."

* * * * *


Haralambos

Spoiler: OOC

Show

It’s all good.
Jerichael is being truthful about everything he says. There isn’t anything dishonest about his words or his intent. As far as he knows, he’s relayed the situation as is.

And since Haralambos and Ramiel share a Superior, it would only have made sense that Michael would have let Haralambos and Ramiel know of each other. Maybe not too much in the way of specific detail about their respective duties, but it’s polite to keep allies abreast of news that there is another agent working in their territories.

When Haralambos had offered his suspicions of Lee summoning Haagenti, and possibly being involved, it was Rezzael who first piped up - though his eyes, and the rest of the Triad's never let their narrowed gaze wander from Jathiriel, who had apparently been outed by Thatch's video.

"Lee is a minor player in Los Angeles." His accent was thick, and very authentic Japanese. "If he has a hand in the current events, it is possible he is working along and making a bid for prestige and power among his fellows. I do know that Bethrezen does not have an amiable relationship with the Djinn - and that bodes well for us. If there is Infernal politicking involved, then perhaps they will not be as capable of putting forward a unified front." The insinuation that hopefully the Angels would be able to capitalize on their own unified hung behind his words unspoken.

Then, Jerichael introduced the same Servant of Michael that Haralambos had been thinking about contacting. Divine providence, no?

* * * * *


Sarah

Valarniel gaped like a fish at her sudden departure, but ended up nodding mutely as he turned his attention back to the tablet and prepared himself for the task he was brought in to assist with.

When Sarah approached Mercy and Jathiriel, Mercy smiled sweetly and nodded in greeting before stepping in to envelope Sarah in a brief, but tight hug. She let her own sparkling eyes linger on Sarah’s for a moment, with a depth of wisdom within. She had hoped, deeply, that Sarah would be here to introduce to Jason – there were few friends to have in your corner like a redeemed Demon, let alone a Bright Lilim.

When the video had finished running its course and the room descended into an uncomfortable silence, Sarah realized that many of the Angels had their eyes trained on the Balseraph and a realization suddenly dawned that hopefully the rest of those in the room would take Thatch's warning about Jathiriel's importance in the spirit it was intended instead of easily slipping into old hatreds and bigotry.

When another new face arrived, and Jerichael introduced him as Ramiel - a servant of Michael and guardian angel for Malcolm, things quickly seemed to become a bit more....real. Even the Archangels had taken an interest in this, and one with support and power such as Michael assigning a Cherub to the mortal meant that they were taking this seriously.

* * * * *


Malchiel

A Cherub of War had been introduced, and revelations that the Demons may not all be working together on this - both offered some peace of mind to the old Angel, though there were still many, many concerns.

When Malchiel voiced his foreknowledge of the Compass and it's construction by his own hands, many Angels openly gaped at the knowledge.

It was, however, Adewale who rose from his seat and stepped further towards the rest of the crowded Angels.

His deep, baritone voice intoned clearly across the room.

"Of course a Servant of Eli would be the one to have a hand in creating a Compass that directly led to the death of an Angel, and the possible conclusion of a troublesome prophecy." The judgement was razor sharp in his voice, which would come as no surprise from a Seraph of Judgement.

But before he could continue, Fortisima laid a hand upon his shoulder and shook her head sternly at him.

She then spoke up. "Malchiel, can you tell us how the creation of this compass came to be? Did you create it of your own volition? I cannot imagine such a thing was done on a whim, nor with any intentional malice." The last bit was said with a pointed look at Adewale.

* * * * *

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Sorry folks, the Easter weekend got crazy, I'm sure for everyone else as well. I appreciate your patience with the delay in posting. I was hoping to have everyone weigh in before the next post - but since I suspect the hectic holiday weekend complicated things, I did some editing and tweaking so that we could continue.
We need a post on Jathiriel's response to the vlog, but otherwise I believe we can progress as normal.

The prologue here will be wrapping up soon - it's just some discussions to be had before the official beginning of the first chapter. Go ahead and award yourselves 3 character points each for superb roleplaying and all-around awesomeness. Nothing you buy will be counted until the official beginning of Chapter One, but go ahead and get a head start on pondering.

For those who maybe don't know: Experience points in In Nomine are essentially the same as the starting character points, and all costs associated are identical to the initial costs.

I'd ask that, unless you're improving a skill or a song you've already got or something similar, toss me a private message to discuss what it is your asking for and why you think your Superior would let you have it. Unless it's something you could get yourself.

Also, Khalil and his trip to Oblivion will continue to run parallel to the current arc and we can carry it into the first chapter. Not to worry.

Thanks again! Hope you all had a wonderful weekend.

[seatyger]

It was, however, Adewale who rose from his seat and stepped further towards the rest of the crowded Angels.

His deep, baritone voice intoned clearly across the room.

"Of course a Servant of Eli would be the one to have a hand in creating a Compass that directly led to the death of an Angel, and the possible conclusion of a troublesome prophecy." The judgement was razor sharp in his voice, which would come as no surprise from a Seraph of Judgement.

But before he could continue, Fortisima laid a hand upon his shoulder and shook her head sternly at him.

She then spoke up. "Malchiel, can you tell us how the creation of this compass came to be? Did you create it of your own volition? I cannot imagine such a thing was done on a whim, nor with any intentional malice." The last bit was said with a pointed look at Adewale.

Mel's only reaction to the seraph's baseless accusation was to adjust the cuffs of his dark grey English-style suit jacket and tug on the matching waistcoat. His face betrayed no emotion, no reaction beyond attention to his grooming.

Only when prompted by Fortisima's questions did the angel of Eli look up and step into full view of the Triad. He replied, "Adewale, you are as inflexible and uncreative in your thinking as ever. I have made nearly two dozen relics and reliquaries over the last thirty years, for angels of every Choir and Superior, all for the prosecution of this War, and have assisted dozens of our brethren in their efforts -- including nearly all of you here tonight. Assisting Thachael a fortnight ago was no different."

Malchiel's tone was measured, as if he were simply talking about the day's weather. "The compass itself was one of a pair I created at the behest of my superior, Eli, and I delivered it to Vicar Luther himself as a gift. I was not aware of any prophecy tied to the relic; neither did I create it with any prophecy in mind. It was truly meant as a gift to a Soldier who was about to perform great deeds in the name of the Lord.

"Thachael specifically sought me out, because he knew the compass was my creation," he continued. "He needed assistance with attuning it, and I gave it willingly; he mentioned only that five mortals were important to his current project, and that he needed to be able to identify and locate them quickly. I was able to set it up as a sequence. Finding an attuned mortal will allow one to unlock the next, and so on. He didn't share anything else regarding his current activities, and it wasn't necessary, at the time, for me to have such knowledge."

[Failed Phantasm]

He hadn’t expected to be the center of attention quite so soon, but one angel at his side quickly became five – two of which were so uncomfortably close that he could practically feel his wings drawing protectively around himself. Morgannin was actually the least problematic of the group, so easily distracted by irrelevance like a raven by tinfoil. Mercy’s laugh answered the Ofanite and he saw no reason to dignify her questions further. But his sentiment was neither malicious nor dismissive: if she wanted to learn anything remotely personal about him, he understood that she would do it in her own time, and likely not a moment before he found himself an animal vessel. She certainly didn’t seem to care about more than his name right now, and the polite disinterest suited him just fine.

The other Ofanite was equally easy to handle. Adele’s enthusiasm seemed genuine enough, but she had eyes for someone else entirely. His impression was that she saw him as an interesting toy or prop, a conversation piece that would catch her friend’s attention so she could get back to socializing with people she actually cared about. He returned her greeting with a “Thanks,” and the ‘aw shucks’ kind of shy wallflower smile that she seemed to want from him. He obligingly left the filled wine glass where it was so she could offer it to her friend, as she clearly intended.

Next was the Elohite, and here his footing was less sure. He felt exposed was as in-control of himself as ever, a skill born of long practice and no small amount of mimicking his once-Superior. Kronos was ever the unflappable one. Still, the emotion-sensing power of the Powers was not to be so lightly discounted. While the feeling of uncertainty beneath the surface was itself hardly an issue, letting anyone other than Mercy know that was an almost unforgivable crime against his dignity. Worse, Malchiel asked the one question he absolutely did not want to answer. His first instinct was to deflect it, but his read of the room revealed no convenient targets. He opted to take a shot in the proverbial dark, offering a sly wink and affecting a lightly sing-song tone of mockery as he trotted out a very ancient Seraphic evasion: “You know, I don’t think I care to answer that.” Hopefully, it was still heavenly habit for Seraphim to annoy their peers by going past truth-telling and straight into volunteering uncomfortable opinions that shatter politeness and social harmony. But naturally, his thoughts were quite different. ‘Please, for the love of God, assume I’m an Impudite.’

Last, and most troublesome, was Sarah. Mercy had mentioned the Bright Lilim in passing before they’d come to the Howitzer, and if the affection sounding across the Symphony from so many angels were any indication, then here she was. At first he thought she would take her wine glass and talk about him to Adele, but no – she charged into the semicircle with all the subtlety of a Calabim and started talking to him. He was no freshly-fledged demon. He recognized the tension beneath the carefully-maintained façade, in her words to Mercy and in her gestures to him. That knowledge gave him no better idea of how to deal with her. Experience told him to accept nothing – nothing – from a Lilim without knowing what she wanted for it first. While an outstretched hand may well be harmless, her offer of assistance was as dangerous as words could be. ‘Tell me exactly what you want or no deal,’ he almost blurted out, fighting what was very nearly a reflex. ‘No unspecified favors.’

But she was Redeemed. She was younger than he was by orders of magnitude – she had to be; he remembered Lilith in the Garden, for Heaven’s sake! – yet she had done it. He had no idea what to think of that. Had it been easier for her? Harder? He shot a split-second’s sideways glance at Mercy. ‘This is what I meant,’ he thought. After another moment’s hesitation, he shook Sarah’s hand. ‘Would a Hellborn be afraid of forgiveness?’

He jumped and wrenched his hand free when Jerichael clapped, having forgotten that there was a world outside the tiny gaggle of angels pressed around him. Finally they were getting to the business of the night. Obviously, it was no surprise to an old schemer that Mercy had an ulterior motive for bringing him to the bar that particular night. ‘At least it’s just a film screening instead of a surprise trial.’


He found himself eating his words once the TV was switched off and the lights came back on. He could feel the eyes turned towards him at the mention of what he was, but the potential shame was nothing compared to the rising indignation he was surprised to find himself feeling. To be implicated in some mortal affair, as if he hadn’t been in Limbo for who-knows-how-long! As if he hadn’t even been in this part of the world since it was called the Viceroyalty of New Spain! ‘At least the Exhibitionist of Revelation had the decency not to reveal my Band,’ he thought; ‘Thank God for small mercies.’ But there were Malakim present and he knew he would soon be the target of their tender attentions, and that made him feel one brief instant of cold terror. If they knew he was a Balseraph, nothing he said could be trusted. The Liars could potentially fool even the Most Holy, and anyone with the slightest familiarity with the Band knew it. Even if what he said were true and a Seraph confirmed it, the doubt would still be there. ‘What if he deceived the Seraph?’ they would think. ‘You can’t trust a Liar.’ The Seraph of Judgement’s reckless accusation, even though it was miraculously not directed at him, only deepened his concern. ‘Damn it, this is the last thing I needed.’

---

Spoiler

Show

CONDITION
Health 96 / 96, Essence 10 / 10

➜ Body 12 / 12
➜ Mind 24 / 24
➜ Soul 60 / 60

ACTIVE EFFECTS

1. Truthfulness/6: Roll (Will – Truthfulness) whenever you attempt to lie or use the Balseraph resonance. Failure obligates you to tell the truth instead.

[JeenLeen]

Haralambos steps back and forth as Rezzial talks. At first he is hopeful that it will be a call to strike against the demon, but then he mentions politics. This reminded him of some of the boring, annoying parts of the fights he did while on loan to Laurence. "A demon is there, but it's working against another demon, so DO NOT KILL IT YET!" -- such boring orders. Sure, Rezzial hadn't explicitly said that, but with a bit of disappointment Haralambos figured such would be Jerichial's decision.

And Adewale's a jerk, and the relic-maker defends himself. The details about it were stuff he had a bit of trouble following.

Haralambos brightens at realizing that, as Michael sent a cherub here because of the video, Michael already knows about it. That... probably means he needn't spend the essence to call Michael just yet.

He is a bit confused as why so many people are focusing on Mercy's friend. (Haralambos wasn't close enough to catch his name.) Well, he reckoned somebody would point it out. He ruffles his feathers a bit discouraged, waiting for orders on who to hunt or protect.

Of course, as a pigeon, the only person who probably reads him properly is Morgannin, unless someone uses Resonance on him. At that thought, he almost reactivates his Resonance, but figures there'll be politic-talk and it'll just annoy him to sense the details.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

So Luther was a Soldier of God in the lore? Cool.

Also, wanted to note that the frustration is completely IC. All's very cool OOC.
Thanks for the xp award. I think this might be the first PbP for me, at least of those that had xp, that lasted long enough to get some that mattered.

[Siegemonkeys]

Ramiel crosses his arms and watches with amusement as Malchiel explains himself, his amusement mostly taken from the opening insults thrown Adewale's way. When he's finished explaining himself, Ramiel takes a drag from his cigarette and points over to Malachiel, his head turned towards Adewale. "Be glad that Malachiel's a better man than me, Adewale. Cause if I was him and you just blamed me for getting one of us killed, I'd have had to ask Rezzael to help me pull my foot out of your ***." He says bluntly. "Anyways, it's a good thing he did make that compass, cause we're gonna need it to find the other humans from this prophecy. And trust me, it's shaping up to be a big one, cause I just got this." He produces a set of papers from his backpack, holding them up for the others to see. Musical sheets, the ones Malcolm gave him before he left school. "Jerichael, put this up on the projector."

"Now, I want everyone one of you to take a look at this." He gestures up to the screen, where the music sheets were being projected. "This is a sheet I just got from Malcolm earlier today, said it was a song he's been hearing in his dream that he's having trouble getting down right. Look familiar? No? How about now." Ramiel starts to hum the song aloud, and after a couple seconds most of the crowd would start to realize what this was supposed to be; The Symphony. Poorly translated, but undoubtedly notes from The Symphony, something that demons can't hear, let alone humans.

"That's right, it's The Symphony. I don't know how he heard it, or what dreams he's been having, but you can see it up there for yourself. It's a bad translation right now, but you can still recognize it even in this state, and this is just what he's managed to get right so far. When I saw him he had dark rings under his eyes, like he barely got any sleep at night or he had a bad dream. Then he gave me the sheets, and I recognized what they're supposed to be. So now we're left here with two very important questions; What's going on in his dreams, and how the hell is he hearing The Symphony. Right now I don't have an answer to that second question, but if Malcolm's only supposed to be one of a few...Maybe the others can hear it too. I don't know how that plays into whatever prophecy Thachael discovered, but I don't think any of us would argue that humans that can hear The Symphony is a Really Big Deal. And as for the first question, that one we can at least look into. Jerichael tells me there's someone here who works for Blandine, who's that? Cause I'm gonna need you to take a look at Malcolm's dreams and share what you find with the rest of us. Might give us a clue just what's going on with this prophecy."

[Anyr]

Poor Thatch's murder was just one part of a larger picture. For now, everyone was focused on their own specific section. Sarah knew that that wouldn't last. Once they stopped arguing about artifacts and Djinn, they'd turn their attention to her newest priority: Jathiriel. A Demon was sitting right in the midst of this Angelic strategy meeting. He'd already seen and heard too much. Only the cavalcade of revelations had let him last this long. Sarah cast her eye down the scruffy figure beside her. The two of them had only just met. She knew almost nothing about him. But every time she looked into his eyes, she saw a strong, sincere yearning for Redemption. That was enough. While everyone's attention was still elsewhere, she leant sideways to whisper in his ear.

"Okay, we don't have much time. So listen closely. I'm on your side. I'm also on their side. My job is to be the bridge between you and them. I'll vouch for your good intentions. Then the Seraphs will vouch for the Truth of your words. Unless you have the tremendous bad fortune of being a Balseraph, that should be enough to satisfy the Triad. After they sheathe their swords, we'll negotiate a proper deal for you.

You probably don't trust me yet. That's fine. Trust came to me slowly as well. Just know that you're not alone."

[Failed Phantasm]

What might best be called ‘morbid fascination’ kept his attention on the celestial congregation rather than his own misery for the moment. Had Mercy not told him otherwise, he might have guessed the angelic population of Los Angeles was near-exclusively Seraphim and Elohim, so tactlessly direct the conversation had been. The Cherub’s revelation was not nearly so surprising in comparison. Kronos’ demons could still hear the Symphony after all, and not simply in the half-remembered way of the Fallen. Why wouldn’t humans eventually demonstrate the capacity? Perhaps the expectation that they were deaf to it had been warranted in the past, but their numbers had tipped into the billions within the last hundred years. Eventually, there was going to be another Lilith. Or five, as the case may be.

Speaking of, the Lilim took advantage of the commotion to start a whispered conversation with him. ‘So you’re to be my literal devil’s advocate?’ He wondered how Mercy had managed to arrange that; perhaps there was some sort of irresistible cosmic irony about a woman defending a snake. When she spoke of trust, it was all he could do not to burst out laughing. She really had no idea what she was getting herself into. “You want me to trust you? Fine,” he whispered back in a tone that was somewhere between resignation and bitter amusement; “Guess who has six eyes and no thumbs?” This guy! As he leaned away from her, he whispered, “Get out while you still can.” and this was probably her one good chance to do it. He would have fully expected her to, but for that notion of self-sacrificing compassion that he had been the recipient of. It was almost enough to make him remember what that felt like. Almost. And it was so damnably hard to be paranoid when people were going out of their way to prove him wrong rather than right. Then again, he’d yet to be interrogated by the Triad or the Malakim, and they of all people would know that Mercy’s protection and Sarah’s advocacy only extended so far. They would try to catch him alone. But he hadn't gone through the trouble of shattering his Heart and bursting out of Hell only to be brought low by some stick-up-his-*** newly-fledged Seraph who was just as likely to order him executed as to sell him out to a Servitor of the Game. There was more to that rumor than Asmodeus' chest-beating about how corrupt Heaven's Judgement was, he was sure of it.

---

Spoiler

Show

CONDITION
Health 96 / 96, Essence 10 / 10

➜ Body 12 / 12
➜ Mind 24 / 24
➜ Soul 60 / 60

ACTIVE EFFECTS

1. Truthfulness/6: Roll (Will – Truthfulness) whenever you attempt to lie or use the Balseraph resonance. Failure obligates you to tell the truth instead.

[Erulasto]

The Howitzer

Sarah, Malchiel, Ramiel, Haralambos, and Jathiriel

The tension was thick in the air in the wake of Thachael's revelations. Despite the unified front that the Seraphim Council constantly pushed for, there was already some discordant notes in the bar - a microcosm of the greater celestial political arena.

Jerichael still stood near the wide-screen television; thick muscled arms crossed over his broad chest with a grim scowl. Ramiel - the newest addition to the Howitzer's current populous - standing near him to give a fresh report to the assembled Host.

Adewale stood near a booth to the side of the room, his back so ramrod straight and rigid it was a wonder it didn't snap from the tension within. His eyes nearly burned with self-righteous indignation, which was fortunately - and perhaps only - assuaged by the Cherub of Judgement next to him with her grandmotherly hands upon his arm and a soothing look in her eyes. Fortisima still held a smile upon her features, though even hers was strained at the moment. The Malakim - Rezzael - despite having spoken, was still sitting in his spot at the booth, a steaming mug of tea before him; and still, his sharp eyes watched Jathiriel.

The Balseraph himself was still, alas, central to the tension in the bar. He was surrounded it seemed, though not by any Angels he would likely fear an escalation from. Mercy was close by his side, and she allowed her hand to graze his own for a moment - a show of solidarity - if the intensity in her gaze and thin line of her pursed lips were any indication of her current mood. The Ofanim of Animals and the Ofanim of Wind were still there as well - though the former was simply watching the ongoing proceedings with some mild curiosity. Adele on the other hand, seemed to be positively vibrating with the tense energy in the room. Her manic eyes flickered across the room, perhaps too fast to follow.

Sarah was the lynchpin however of Jathiriel's little assemblage, however. The Bright Lilim seemed genuine, though the Balseraph would likely be struggling to take such a fact at face value. How long, after all, did it take him to warm up to Mercy? And of course, there were still moments where the two of them struggled to feel their way around each other.

Haralambos seemed the most overly aggravated by the gathering, though it was entirely likely the Seraph of War wouldn't be directly invovled unless Adewale made a demand, or one of the other militant angels offered motivation to do so.

Solomon leaned against the pool table, brow furrowed in deep thought and Lophyrine simply stood next to the surprisingly quiet Sopholael, his briefcase held tightly in hand while an infinitely sorrowful expression had settled on his face - a single tear even running down his cheek at the news of Thachael's destruction.

Valarniel was awkwardly silent, still clutching the tablet to his chest like a lifeline, but did while he was not up in arms with Jathiriel's presence, it appeared that he certainly was startled by it.

* * * * *


Malchiel

Fortisima seemed well-pleased with Malchiel's response - indeed, she had comissioned a talisman from the Elohim herself a few years ago and she still used those oven mitts when she needed to handle something hot - like pulling fresh cookies from the oven, or pulling the heart out of one of Belial's servitors chests. A solid pressure was applied to Adewale, with perhaps a flicker of warning in her eyes. Adewale may have been the Seraph of the Triad and the de facto leader - but Fortisima was truly ancient, being created in the early days of the world shortly after Humanity had first learned to bake bread.

Regardless, the Seraph scowled down to Fortisima, realizing that Malchiel would not make a good target - and his self-righteous honey-brown eyes turned to the only other convenient target in the room, and the one he figured he was well within his rights to deal with.
While Malchiel had shut down Adewale, there were others who seemed to take a direct interest in what he had to say. Solomon, the Cherub of Faith pushed off the pool table and moved to stand next to him.

"I, for one, consider it divine providence that the creator of the compass himself just so happened to be in the city at a time when it had become scrutinized by Destiny and Fate. I have to admit, I once met Vicar Luther and saw the compass on his desk. I was always impressed by the craftsmanship." Solomon grinned, though his dark-chocolate eyes were still distinctly troubled.

* * * * *


Ramiel

Adewale had just turned his expression away from Malchiel when he was stopped in his tracks by the words of the Cherub of War. He sputtered, and his mouth worked furiously as he glared at Michael's Servant.

Before he could utter a damning response, Jerichael had put the sheet music up on the projector and the Seraph of Judgement allowed his train of thought to lapse into shock.

The notes were frenetic and scribbled haphazardly. This was not the writing of a well-thought out composer. These notes were - desperate, chaotic and almost...mad in their composition. But sure enough, as Ramiel began to hum the notes it was there - underneath the extraneous bits, and at the very core of the music and they could all FEEL the Symphony responding. It was as stark a revelation as the one Thatch's death had been.
When Ramiel asks for the Servant of Dreams, Lophyrine steps forward with a short bow of his head. "That would be myself, noble Cherub. I am Lophyrine, Servant of Blandine and Walker of the Marches. What you have shown us is a great shock to me, though I will admit that it does - in a way - answer the why of the Prophecy."

He glances at Sopholael, then back to the rest of the room. "I was one of those in the Marches who first discovered the dream-prophecy that Thachael had spoken of in his vision. I was, in fact, the one who brought it to his attention and asked him to investigate it for us." The Mercurian allows his eyes to shift down to the ground, and a couple more tears flow down his cheeks while he sniffs, and scratches the large bushy mustache under his nose. It doesn't take an Elohim to realize that he feels responsible for Thatch's death.

* * * * *


Sarah

In all the dramatics that the other Angels had become engaged in, Sarah had the perfect opportunity to whisper to Jathiriel without too much scrutiny, though if the smile that had dawned on the Seneschal of Flowers pretty face was any indication, she may have picked up on the spirit of the message, if not the words themselves.

Mercy nodded to Sarah in agreement with her statement, seemingly pleased that she'd found another ally so swiftly in her desire to help the Fallen find the blessings and love of Redemption. While she was certainly pleased, Mercy had hoped that Sarah would be on board with the idea and one of Jathiriel's biggest supporters.

"Thank you, Sarah." Came Mercy's fervent expression, eyes watering a little as she looked back to Jathiriel.

Morgannin had begun to slip further away from the gathering, but Adele seemed to have her interest continue to grow in the newcomer. She siddled over to Sarah and Mercy and Jathiriel, and nudged Sarah in the ribs with a wink before reaching into the cavernous pouch on the front of her hoodie and seeming to rummage around for a minute or two.

"You gave me this idea!" The Ofanim proudly states, before pulling out a rather old iPhone. It was old, but in good shape, though the back was covered entirely in McDonald's McCafe stickers. There was enough there for at least a half-dozen free coffee's.

While Adele had turned her attention entirely on Jathiriel as well, Mercy took a moment to pull a book out of her beaded, hemp purse and handed it to the Lilim. It was wrapped in faded leather and embossed with hearts and flowers drawn in multiple hues of gel-pens.

"Here." The Angel of Flowers spoke softly, tenderly, as she offered it to her. There was a...familiarity about the book. "This is a very special book. It's a diary." Mercy has a faint coloring of her cheeks, as her eyes go a bit misty. "I traded a few favors to get it back. It has special meaning to me, but I think it might help you a bit more at the moment. It belonged to an Angel named Summer. She was a Bright Lilim. Like you. She was my....first Redemption."

Mercy smiled at some memory before continuing. "You know what he's going through." She glanced back to Jathiriel. "But I want this diary to help someone else find their Light."

* * * * *


Jathiriel

The Ofanim offered the phone to Jathiriel with a wide, manic grin. "I'm...uh...not as good at making deals...and stuff. But, like....my number is already programmed in. Keep it and give it a call if you ever need some...eh...fast transportation." She looked a bit sheepish as she stood there, offering the phone to Jathiriel.

While Adele had been offering Jathiriel the phone, Mercy had taken a moment to present Sarah with a rather colorful book - in what looked like a rather emotionally vulnerable moment for the Seneschal.

It was in this moment that the power of the Symphony rose in answer to the humming of the Cherub at the front of the room. The sheet music and its contents forced themselves into the foreground, perhaps offering a brief respite for Jathiriel as much of the antagonistic attention was drawn away.
But the music hit Jathiriel deep within his fractured soul. It squirmed within the cracks in his Resonance, and filled the hole in him for a moment with an ephemeral, sudden feeling of wholeness - a burning, blinding, searing light in his minds eye flared and a hundred memories raged through his mind's eye.

And then, the Symphonic harmony with the hummed tune faded and he was left as fractured and cracked and Fallen as before - though his mind still pulsed from moment to moment with his memories from so many lifetimes that they had blurred, and seeped into one another.
Things he had not thought of in so very, very long.

Standing in the Garden, watching as the Perfect Man and Perfect Woman lived their lives in peace with the others. A Cherub of remarkable beauty and purity, with eyes set upon the Lovers with a terrible longing. A tall, dark man - sinister in his countenance and malice - in a suit so black it put the smoke of the Pit to shame as he offered a taloned hand to the broken, wretched Seraph that knelt upon the ground before him - fresh from his Damnation. The cry of heartbreak and anguish at not only the rejection, and the betrayal, but the violation that followed when the Love had become dark and twisted. Seeing that same, beautiful Angel with haunted eyes in armor of silvered tears, with hair white as the light of the moon standing next to wise, compassionate Raphael as the Heavens arrayed against the Horrors of Legion.

Something had touched him in the half-maddened scrawl upon the students notebook, and for perhaps the first time, Jathiriel may have gleaned that something much larger was in play and that perhaps the Hands of Fate and Destiny were upon him...even here. Even now.

* * * * *


Haralambos

Haralambos could feel the aggression in the room. These Angels - some of which were reportedly paragons of nobility and justice - were allowing their pride and their wrath to dominate their rational thoughts and their duties.

There was just so much going on that didn't make sense at first. Haralambos was never one for the political battlefield - he left that to others - but there was a tugging at the edge of his mind that perhaps, just perhaps, if things were as serious as they were appearing to be, that his sword-arm would be called upon sooner, rather than later.

Morgannin had made her way back over to Haralambos, and sat down on a stool next to him, before reaching for another nut and popping it into her mouth - black eyes still locked upon the room as a whole.

She leaned over towards Pigeolambos and offered him another peanut.

"The Angel of Flowers brought her Demon friend to visit." She offered up, deadpan, before pointing to Adewale and the others of the Triad. "It is part of why he is...so angry."

But then the Symphony responds to Ramiel and even Morgannin - as unconcerned with Divine politics as she is - is floored, quite literally, by the sensation. She looks up, black-eyes wide in shock as she lays upon the ground. Fear is in her eyes, palpable and heavy. The urge to fly and tell Jordi that the Man-things could experience the Symphony gnawed at her. One more abhorent thing about the Two-Legs. Perhaps this affront would be enough for Jordi to begin his Purge?

* * * * *

Spoiler: Characters

Show

Haralambos: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/shows...78&postcount=4
Sarah: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/shows...78&postcount=6
Jathiriel: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/shows...78&postcount=3
Malchiel: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/shows...7&postcount=29
Ramiel: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/shows...8&postcount=14
Khalil Dhali: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/shows...78&postcount=7
Sopholael: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/shows...2&postcount=26

Please let me know if I didn't catch the right version of your sheet!

[XIII]

Khalil swore the air thickened as he approached Oblivion, like it was saturated with pain, woe, and sin. He rubbed his fingers together, imagining the greasy film this fog of desperation would leave behind. He felt like spitting out the bitter taste the air left on his tongue. Khalil thought of burning the place down after he retrieved the girl, knowing full well he would do no such thing, today at least. He watched sadly as the children took the pills from the man, these kids didn't stand a chance against Oblivion. He eyed the snake in the silk shirt with burning hatred, committing his face to memory before approaching the bouncers.

"Are you kidding? These kids don't know what a real party is, they couldn't keep up with me if they tried. Plus, I actually tip the bartender well."

[JeenLeen]

Haralambos continues stepping back and forth, spending nervous energy. He's not sure what Adewale is up to, but it seems jerkish. At least the relic-maker and Solomon seemed to help put him in his place.

She leaned over towards Pigeolambos and offered him another peanut.

"The Angel of Flowers brought her Demon friend to visit." She offered up, deadpan, before pointing to Adewale and the others of the Triad. "It is part of why he is...so angry."

Haralambos started to peck at the peanut, but stops in surprise at her statement. Well, that explains it at least. But... did that mean that guy was trying to be an angel again? Probably. Novalis might be foolish -- so he'd been told -- but she did do a good deed in getting enemy soldiers to stop being enemies. Mercy's probably the same.

He eats the peanut, looking back and forth from the demon to Adewale, putting two and two together. He's about to speak when his fellow Michaelite reports.

---
The song is pretty if a bit dissonant. Sort of like a white lie meant to soothe a hurt person -- not good it exists, but Haralambos could see the good meant by it. He looks at the Soldiers of God, to see if they seem surprised like the angels.

Realizing it'll probably get some mocking, he decides to ask anyway. "So, what does it mean that a human is almost... whatever Malcolm is almost doing? Does that mean he could eventually do Songs like we can? The Soldiers we fight with can Sing."

He decides to add, confidence replacing this questioning ignorance: "But, besides why this matters, we know it does. We need to fight together. The demons killed one of our own. They are trying to do something Bad with these humans. We should stop them. You all know I'm not one for politics. I'm not smart. But I am a fighter, and a Seraph of Michael. Thatch was willing to set aside politics for this. Let's do likewise." Turning his head to the demon, he adds, "In his final words, Thatch said that a renegade was important. I can tell when someone is saying we have an ally in our war. If he's seeking Redemption, I consider him one of us, in honor to our War and to our destroyed friend's wishes."

The pigeon body looks over the room, pausing a moment extra at Adewale. Though not intimidating in this form, he hopes his words bring to mind what those here have seen of him in combat. He's not into politics, nah, but he can try to get people to ignore that stupidity.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

That's the right link.

Also, Resonance to read who responds to him:
(2d6)[7] @ 8
(1d6)[5]

[seatyger]

Spoiler: OOC

Show

The link is correct, thanks. :)

While Malchiel had shut down Adewale, there were others who seemed to take a direct interest in what he had to say. Solomon, the Cherub of Faith pushed off the pool table and moved to stand next to him.

"I, for one, consider it divine providence that the creator of the compass himself just so happened to be in the city at a time when it had become scrutinized by Destiny and Fate. I have to admit, I once met Vicar Luther and saw the compass on his desk. I was always impressed by the craftsmanship." Solomon grinned, though his dark-chocolate eyes were still distinctly troubled.

"And our Superiors say God has abandoned us," Mel quipped, deadpan. It was difficult to tell if he was joking or sincere.

He decides to add, confidence replacing this questioning ignorance: "But, besides why this matters, we know it does. We need to fight together. The demons killed one of our own. They are trying to do something Bad with these humans. We should stop them. You all know I'm not one for politics. I'm not smart. But I am a fighter, and a Seraph of Michael. Thatch was willing to set aside politics for this. Let's do likewise." Turning his head to the demon, he adds, "In his final words, Thatch said that a renegade was important. I can tell when someone is saying we have an ally in our war. If he's seeking Redemption, I consider him one of us, in honor to our War and to our destroyed friend's wishes."

The pigeon body looks over the room, pausing a moment extra at Adewale. Though not intimidating in this form, he hopes his words bring to mind what those here have seen of him in combat. He's not into politics, nah, but he can try to get people to ignore that stupidity.

"Haralambos, the why is still quite important here. It's not enough to know of this anomaly," Malchiel countered, his quasi-professorial demeanor coming to the fore in his posture. "We have multiple aspects to this story, each as important as the other: Potential prophets who are dreaming of a prophecy that may surround our friend Cassiel; five humans who may be attuned to the Symphony; intense Infernal interest in the subjects; and Martin Luther's compass and how the prophecy attaches to it.

"You are correct that the normal politicking between our Superiors and our Choirs must be suspended while solving this puzzle," he added, his eyes briefly falling on Adewale. "But, we must remain aware of the larger picture, and how each aspect fits within it."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

How much of Cassiel's story would Malchiel know, since they've been in Eli's service together for quite some time? History roll, perhaps?
History 13 (2d6)[4][2](6)
Check +1 (1d6+1)[7]

[JeenLeen]

"Haralambos, the why is still quite important here. It's not enough to know of this anomaly," Malchiel countered, his quasi-professorial demeanor coming to the fore in his posture. "We have multiple aspects to this story, each as important as the other: Potential prophets who are dreaming of a prophecy that may surround our friend Cassiel; five humans who may be attuned to the Symphony; intense Infernal interest in the subjects; and Martin Luther's compass and how the prophecy attaches to it.

"You are correct that the normal politicking between our Superiors and our Choirs must be suspended while solving this puzzle," he added, his eyes briefly falling on Adewale. "But, we must remain aware of the larger picture, and how each aspect fits within it."

He steps back and forth nervously a few times while Malchiel starts listing things, but tries to pay attention.
"When one of us knows why, I'd like to be told. But, I want to help protect the humans and fight the demons. I had planned to kill Lee tonight, but I'll let you all figure out what needs to be done. If I should guard those looking for the compass or Thatch's Lady, I'd be glad to. Jerichael, I told you what I know of what Lee's up to and that pretty witch he mentioned. I'll let you all figure out where I should fight."

He picks up a peanut in his beak and flies down beside Morgannin, dropping it by her hand. But his eyes are mostly on Jathiriel, and checking if Adewale or anyone else makes a move against him. It looks like Sarah and Mercy are protecting him. Well, that's probably good. Thatch said we need him. Allies were good.

[Anyr]

Sarah wasn't bothered by Jathiriel's cold reception. Demons view the world through a lens of selfishness. When offered compassion, their first instinct was to ask 'what do you get out of this?'. Sarah remembered that narrow, lonely mindset. Escaping it took more than just kind words. Luckily, Jathiriel had plenty of help. A nudge in Sarah's ribs heralded the arrival of a familiar frenetic figure. Adele greeted the Demon with that wonderful, passionate energy that Sarah adored so much. She was like a guiding light in the darkness.

And then there was the third member of this trio. Mercy's gentle face seemed to carry even more tenderness than usual. While Adele distracted Jathiriel, the Angel of Flowers offered Sarah an unexpected gift. As soon as Sarah saw the book, she was struck by a feeling of nostalgia. Why did it seem so familiar? Confusion soon became wide-eyed wonder as Mercy explained its origin. The diary of a Bright Lilim! Sarah handled the book gently, as if it were a delicate artifact. For her, the hardest part of Redemption had been leaving her family behind. Heaven had so very few Bright sisters. And even the ones who did exist rarely got to meet each other. So to her, this diary was a chance to connect with something truly precious. She marvelled at being given so perfect a gift. She bowed her head to Mercy in sincere gratitude.

"T-Thank you so much. I can hardly describe how much this means to me."

Jahiriel was in good hands. Sarah was truly blessed to have Adele and Mercy as comrades. Between the three of them, they had all they needed to thaw a frozen soul. And that was before they got a surprise cameo from the Symphony itself. Sarah was, of course, surprised by Ramiel's humming. But to her, it was merely an affirmation of something she could already hear. Rather than looking to the singer, her gaze flew to Jathiriel. Could this music reach even a Renegade?

[Erulasto]

Spoiler: Character Profiles

Show

Player	Character	Choir/Band	Superior
Anyr	Sarah	Bright Lilim	Marc
seatyger	Malchiel	Elohite	Eli
EarthenRite	Sopholael	Elohite	Yves
Failed Phantasm	Jathiriel	Balseraph	Kronos
JeenLeen	Haralambos	Seraph	Michael
XIII	Khalil Dhali	Malakite	Gabriel
Siegemonkeys	Ramiel	Cherub	Michael

* * * * *


The HOWITZER

Malchiel

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Your check was more than sufficient – I’d say that the basic information would have readily been available, but given the success of your roll and the check digit, I’ll answer any specific questions you may have about Cassiel and her history. You can either DM me the questions, or post them in an OOC Spoiler or the OOC Thread. Your choice.

The gathering of the Host were fairly attentive to Malchiel’s words, Solomon and Jerichael taking an especial interest.
Adewale was held in check by the rest of the Triad, though the impotent rage that could be seen simmering under his professional outward appearance was troubling.

”You are correct, of course, Wise One. There are far too many moving pieces to this puzzle, and far too much coincidence for my liking.” Spoke Solomon before scratching his chin in thought. ”The immediate tasks, as I see them, are to find the Compass and find the five Humans involved in the Prophecy. As much as we may like more direct action, it seems that information is power – especially in this regard.”

* * * * *


Haralambos

Morgannin remains silent, though she does take the peanut and eat it – almost trance-like as her black eyes stare unfocused at the room, obviously lost in the twisting paths of the altogether alien mindset of a Servant of Animals.

Jerichael is the first to respond to Haralambos with a firm nod. “I agree, my friend. I would like nothing more than to rally the troops and off each and every Diabolical vessel in the city – but we are blinded by the bigger picture, and I am unsure about offensive actions without having an idea of the unforeseen consequences.”

Solomon picked up the conversation next. ”If Lophyrine is going to investigate the Dreams of Mr. Price for us, then we have one avenue accomplished. Haralambos raised a good point, however. The Compass and Thatch’s Red Lady. The two go hand-in-hand, and I cannot say that I have any experience with whom this lady friend of his may have been. That knowledge is a rather pressing concern.”

* * * * *


Sarah

Mercy simply smiled a somewhat sad, but hopeful smile to Sarah when she took the book. The Angel of Flowers tipped her head, and opened her arms to embrace Sarah again. When she was close, she took the moment to whisper to the Bright Lilim. ”There are some things written in the diary that I would ask you keep to yourself – especially around the Triad. Summer was….unorthodox in some ways….and I would hate for her name to have come under any more scrutiny than it need.”

It wasn’t phrased like she was actually concerned that Sarah would be likely to gossip about what was contained within the diary – but there was a weight to her words that implied rather heavily that it was a warning for her own sake, as well as the sake of the original author.

When Mercy withdrew from the hug, she beamed at the Bright Lilim.

”You needn’t try and tell me how much this means to you, Sarah. I can see it in how the Symphony dances when you are happy. Truly, we are blessed that you came to us.” Mercy was always incorrigibly good at sentimentality.

* * * * *


The OBLIVION

Khalil Dhali

The bouncer chuckled at Khalil’s words, before seeming to decide to humor the man. He jerked his thumb back over his shoulder, towards the interior of the rave club with a wry grin.

”Go ahead, man. Show ‘em how it’s done!” There were some murmurs of discontentment amongst the crowd lined up outside at the seeming preferential treatment and being allowed to queue jump his way inside, but a glare from the bouncer silenced any disgruntled mutterings rather quickly.

As Khalil stepped into the dark interior of the club, the first thing he felt was the deep, reverberating bass pounding through his skull and in his bones. The heat from so many tightly packed, sweating Humans was palpable – and the sweat upon the air was salty and humid.
The interior of the club appeared as a massive, open warehouse. On the far, narrow wall from the entrance was a raised stage upon which a DJ stood behind a massive, highly technical setup while before him banks of floodlights and LED displays shifted through the color spectrum to the pulse of the music. It bathed the dancing throng in ephemeral light that the Malakim knew felt just….wrong. The rhythm was….darkly inspired, it seemed.

Just inside the door, a young woman in a tight crop top and a pair of shorts far to small to be considered descent approached with a high-sided tray.

”Hi! Want a drink? Or something stronger?” She chirped, and with the full, blown-out pupils and sickly sweet smell coming from her pores as she sweat, Khalil immediately picked up on the strong drugs pumping through her bloodstream.

[JeenLeen]

Haralambos ruffles his feathers at Jericheal's words, but replies with acceptance, somehow sighing through his beak. "It sounded like that would be the case. If it's time to fight, let me know. Does anyone want to spy on Lee, to try to see what he asks his boss? If you want info, that's a way to get it. I can do it, but if I see him ready to kill people to cook for his Superior, I..." He pauses for a moment, a kind of long moment, making sure to speak honestly. "...think I'd try to kill him. I don't like letting people die."

He almost adds his fear that, if the Demon Prince sees him, Haralambos won't retreat from a fight, and will likely die. Instead, he just ruffles his feathers again, and eats another peanut, simply adding, "Let me know where you want me. Lee. Other angels. Humans."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

To clarify, his pause is to reflect him spending time on making sure he's truthfully stating his feelings. His conclusion is "Even if told not to kill him, I think I would try."

It's not conflict about whether or not killing him is worth it. (Harry considers it worth it, and he doesn't really think about the long-term consequences besides realizing their might be some so that's why he was told to not kill yet.)

I realized it could be taken a couple ways, but I reckon intonation would help clarify IC, but of course we don't have that in text format.

[XIII]

Oblivion, It was almost too much to bear. This place was a gaping maw of sin, swallowing the innocent and wicked alike. The corrupted atmosphere pushed in on Khalil's senses, it felt oppressive. He clenched his fists, quieting the fire inside begging for release. He tried not to notice the young lady's attire, he really did. He tried not to think of what she was subjected to. He put on his best act, "I'm actually looking for my date, better find her before ordering, right? Maybe you've seen her?" Khalil pulled out the picture Kaitlin, against his better judgement. He should try to find her on his own first, not draw attention. Time was of the essence, Khalil felt like the more time he spent here, the deeper the trouble would be.

[Siegemonkeys]

Ramiel's eyes turn to Lophyrine as he introduces himself, taking another puff of his cigarette while he listens. Seeing him start to tear up, however, Ramiel frowns. Surprisingly, he puts out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, not even halfway done with it yet, and approaches the Mercurian to give him a supportive pat on the shoulder. "Don't blame yourself. You're not the one that killed him, those demons in the video were. You and him were just doing your jobs, now we'll honor his memory by finishing it." He consoles him. The servants of Michael had a bit of a reputation for being brutes and killers, but Ramiel wasn't a cruel person. He knew what it was like to lose a friend, he'd lived long enough to see it happen a few times.

"Take a minute if you need to. When you're ready though, we need to know what you saw in the dreamscape. Maybe it'll have clues for what this prophecy entails, or how we can find the other humans involved in it."

[seatyger]

Malchiel nodded his assent to Solomon, and was content to simply observe the interaction between Haralambos and Jerichael.

[Erulasto]

OBLIVION Club


Khalil Dhali

The inebriated girl seemed to sway on her feet just slightly – imperceptibly to most – as she leaned in and squinted at the picture. It was sort of comical, if you peeled away the layers of corruption and moral decay that permeated the club.

After a moment, her eyes widened in recognition. ”Oh! Oh yeah! That’s Kaitlin! Oh…uh….yeah….” Abruptly her demeanor changed and a bit of a fearful tint colors her expression. ”I…uh….I’m not supposed to talk about her. Sorry.” That was enough to give someone emotional whiplash.

It was around this moment that Khalil noticed that above the stage where the DJ played his music, was a second floor room – an overlooking office of sorts – with the entire wall looking down on the dance club being tinted glass. Just on the other side, he saw the blurred shapes of a woman in a red dress and a pair of smaller women – one in a tailored suit, and one in a slinky club dress.

Spoiler: Khalil Dhali OOC

Show

I’m going to be wrapping up the Prologue in this post – however – as Khalil is involved in events across the rest of the night, with his excursion to the club – for the next few posts there will be a bit of a time differential between Khalil and the rest of the group.

* * * * *


The HOWITZER


Haralambos

Solomon shakes his head slowly, thoughtfully, and sighs. ”I’m not convinced that the Demons know significantly more than we do at this point, or if they do than their infighting could provide us the distraction we need to gather our own information.”

Jerichael turns to Haralambos, and allows a small smile to grow on his face. ”Why don’t you head down to the Gravel Pit and see what scum is crawling around? Or you can help keep an eye on Malcolm with Ramiel. He’s our most precious asset at the moment – I’d say his safety is one of our top priorities.”

* * * * *


Ramiel

Lophyrine smiles sadly to Ramiel and nods slowly. ”Thank you.” He sighs and wipes a hand across his face wearily. ”I must return to the Marches. The Dreamers are beginning to return and will be entering their Dreamscapes shortly. I must be there to safeguard them, but I will send you all the information I have in the morning if that is acceptable? I wish I had time to regale you with it now – but…..duty does not wait and I cannot leave them vulnerable to Beleth’s minions.”

Everyone

With the news that Lophyrine needed to return to the Marches, and at least a cursory explanation about what it is the Angels in Los Angeles faced, Jerichael glanced at his watch and grumbled.

”We should convene for the evening. Gaspariel and Mercy need to return to their Tethers, and I’m sure Ramiel wouldn’t mind taking a look in on his charge. If there are no objections, I’d like Malchiel and Mercy to meet with me and Solomon tomorrow to discuss a few things. I’d like us on the search as soon as possible. And….” He glances at Jathiriel. ”I’d like to have a chance to talk to our new friend if he would be amenable.”

With what seemed like a solid dismissal, the majority of the Angels began to part ways. Some – like Lophyrine – took advantage of the Tether to assume their celestial form safely and directly ascend to Heaven so he could head to his post on the borders of the Marches. Others, like Adewale, simply left to drive home.

Adele had to take a rather abrupt phone call, and by the end, she had looked at Sarah, Mercy and Jathiriel with wide-eyed surprise and sadness before mouthing the words I’m Sorry and suddenly shedding her own corporeal vessel – though instead of ascending, she sped off into the distance like a veritable whirlwind.

Mercy frowned in concern, before turning to Sarah telling her to be well – then she would have taken Jathiriel by the shoulder and led him out from the Tether and into the evening sea breeze.

Spoiler: OOC

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Thus ends the Prologue. I wrapped it up rather abruptly, but I felt the pacing was starting to wane a bit. I’ll be posting the intro to Chapter One in the next little while.

If there was any little thing you wanted your character to do before calling it for the night, either PM me or toss up a post about it. Otherwise, prepare for Day Two. Heh

Thanks for your patience folks!

[seatyger]

Malchiel wove his way through the departing angels to Jerichael. "I'm going to the Library, to investigate some thoughts I have on the matter. I will return tomorrow," he said. Without further ceremony, the Angel of Eli shed his corporeal form and ascended via the Tether.

Spoiler: OOC

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I sent you a PM with the questions about Cassiel that came to mind.

On a second note, I think I will spend my three points to strengthen my Vessel, if that's all right.

[JeenLeen]

Haralambos is a mix of confused and unhappy with his orders, but he accepts them readily enough. The Gravel Pits are a fun place, and it'd be nice to get to know his fellow Michaelite a bit more.

He flies over towards Ramiel and says, "If you'd like some help, I will come, but I'd like to follow his advice on going to the Gravel Pits. But if you get a sense that the demons who attacked Thatch set their sights on you, call me and I'll fly there. Well, assuming nothing prevents it." He gives Ramiel his cell phone number, noting that it'll exist again once he assumes human form. He also summarizes the information about Hanna Pierse. "I don't have any proof, but something in my gut says she matters. Maybe one of the Five, but I don't know. She needs protecting if that murderer gets out.

...also, does Michael already know about this video? I was supposed to report when one of those big-fighting demons shows up, but it sounds like a bad time to call a Superior."

Assuming Ramiel doesn't strongly want accompaniment, Haralambos flies close to the Gravel Pits then assumes human form. He double-checks that his phone is on, in case Ramiel calls. If nothing of import happens, around 3 or 4 AM he picks up a big pipe or similar weapon and runs through exercises for a few hours. Between that Rite and the refreshing divine energies of sunrise, he'll regenerate the essence he spent transforming.

If anyone stares or comments about the strange guy there so late when almost everybody has left, he just grins his childish grin and rants a bit about being prepared. He does like the Role he was given.

----
If Mercy and Jerithiel don't leave immediately, Haralambos flies near the Renegade and tells him, "If you're sincere, and you need protection, let me know."

Spoiler: OOC

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The note toward Jerithiel is whenever it makes sense time-wise. I wasn't clear from the post if he was staying to talk to Jerichiel, he and Mercy were leaving immediately, or if that depends on what the player chooses.

Since you say Day Two is starting soon, I figured I should mention the Gravel Pits for that night, but if you planned on that being part of Day Two, feel free to postpone it.

Also, Resonance roll for if our Renegade does respond. If he doesn't, some random person at the Gravel Pits. (Since folk lie so much at the Gravel Pits, or so I reckon, Haralambos doesn't usually use his Resonance there unless he'd trying to figure out a specific person.)
(2d6)[9] @ 8
(1d6)[1]

Lastly, but perhaps most importantly: is it free to go to Heaven at a Tether and to return and become corporeal again?
If yes, would that be a quiet way to try to invoke Michael, to report to them about Betherezen (sp)?
I read there's a +3 bonus to trying to Invoke while at a Tether. Does that bonus apply in Heaven at the spot corresponding to a Tether (or is there a bonus if in Heaven)?