In Nomine: Los Angeles (IC)

[XIII]

"It's either a trap..." Everything else Khalil could think of ended how a trap usually did, with them killed. "Correction, it's probably a trap. Shall we?" Khalil would follow the more experienced angels' leads, wary of an ambush or foul play.

[JeenLeen]

Hanna
Harry's smile at her reassuring answer gives way to a look of concern and sorrow as he describes her uncle.

"Shedim," he says with disgust in his voice. "They're a type of a demon that can possess people. I'm told there's at least one in town, though I haven't gotten to fight it personally. Disgusting creatures, using people, corrupting people... I'm truly sorry to hear that about your uncle. Maybe we can save him, too."

He feels conflicted. He knows he probably should be asking her questions, to inform the other angels, but he isn't sure what to ask. And he realizes he should be doing more to comfort her, but this really isn't what he was made for. His mind goes back to safety and fights.
"We should move from here. When angels or demons do, um, certain stuff, it can make noise we can sense. This fight wasn't super noisy, but it might've attracted someone's eye. I don't want you here if another demon shows up, and honestly the other angels might be mad at me for telling you what I did. But I'm glad I did, if that Shedim already spoke to you."

Harry looks outside, to make sure the coast appears clear.
"Can you head back towards your house, and let's talk more there? I should do one more thing here. Or, if not your place, is there a coffee shop or Dunkin Donuts nearby? I don't usually eat, but my treat."
If Hanna makes it out safely, Harry takes Lee's cell phone, wallet, keys, and anything else not-too-disgusting in his pockets, then, after covering his face with a spare apron from the safehouse, picks up the bloated corpse and hauls it to the hearse-car. He heaves it on top of the vehicle, tosses the cretin's driver's license into the car, then walks back to the Djinn's former safehouse.
That should almost certainly destroy his Role.

Once inside, he looks with satisfaction at his work. He's about to leave when his phone rings. Sarah.
...
After they finish talking, he washes the blood off in the sink, then heads out the back to meet up with Hanna.
He waves, and comfortingly puts a hand on her shoulder, and says, "My name's Haralambos, by the way. Is there anything you can tell me about you or your uncle, that might help me protect you? Or about your nightmares or what it wanted you to sing? Or, um, if you just wanna talk to someone who believes you, that's fine, too."

Spoiler: ooc

Show

New resonance roll for talking with her, since I reckon enough minutes pass. Doing it with the touch for +2 bonus (not that it mattered with the roll... the bonus for touch is just to check digit, not the activation, right?)
(2d6)[9] @ 8
(1d6+2)[8]

Edit:
Edit 2: to clarify, the apron was around Harry's head. Basically, trying to protect his role's legal status should someone see him place the corpse. His hope is that someone calls the cops soon.

---
Phone Call with Sarah

As Harry prepares to shift forms, his phone rings. Sarah.
He answers quickly, the adrenaline and vigor of the last fight leading him to concern for his fellow angel's corporeal safety. "Sarah, are you okay?"

[Anyr]

It took a while for Sarah to reply. She carefully considered the phrasing of her next words. She'd promised to share this information with Harry. But the two of them were very different people. Their reactions to it would be different too. After making sure that nobody was listening, she finally spoke.

"...I'm okay. I just finished meeting Selena. You were right: She's on the other team. One of Andre's subordinates. Here's the twist, though: She's also Thatch's lady in red. Now we know how the information leaked."

And why Thatch got destroyed. Sarah didn't say that part aloud. The pitch she was about to make would be difficult enough, without reminding Harry about that. Memories of Thatch rose unbidden to her mind's eye; Then were firmly pushed down again. Revenge would just make a bad situation worse. She had to explain that in a way that Harry would understand.

"This'll probably make you angry. It makes me angry too. But I need you to stay in control. Listen carefully, Harry. I'm only telling you this because I promised. This chain of information needs to stop with you. Do not tell the others about Selena. You don't need to lie. Just...don't volunteer anything. The Destiny of a human soul depends on it.

I have a plan to handle the lady in red. It has way more potential benefits than a violent approach would; As long as nobody messes it up. So please, promise me you'll stay out of the way. This is my battle. Let me fight it on my own terms."

[JeenLeen]

Phone Call with Sarah

Harry pauses for moment, then says, "Thinking. Um, hold on."

She was a Soldier, or demon, or something of Lust. She should die... but it wasn't the first time he was supposed to wait. And he guessed something it was a war of politics instead of fists and blade.

"...um, listen, I don't promise anything. Don't want to get caught in a lie later. But, I guess I can keep quiet about this. Just, are you going to find out where the compass is hid? That matters for the Five. If it falls to Lust, that's bad for their souls. And I reckon others of us are wasting time trying to find the Red Lady.

But, yeah, I'll stay away from Selena as I can. At least, until your part in this war is other. If she needs killing, though, you can let me know. Or if you need some muscle in whatever you're doing."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Really good think Sarah got to her first ^_^

[Anyr]

"Of course I'm trying to find the compass. But I couldn't just brazenly ask about her favourite coffee shop. I have to be patient and subtle. Don't worry, Harry. I'm keeping all the factors in mind."

It actually felt more like juggling too many plates. Harry's position was completely reasonable. Plenty of Angels would say that finding the compass took priority over everything else: That saving two individual souls along with it wasn't worth the risk. Sarah didn't think like that. She was part of the second most human Choir. The cosmic battle for the compass felt like a distant abstraction to her. She felt far closer to the Needs of Bethany, Selena, and Jason. Oh God, Jason! She'd almost forgotten about him. Hopefully he wouldn't need her help in the near future. Because if he did, she really would be stretched thin.

"Anyway, that's the situation. Thanks for understanding."

[JeenLeen]

Talking to Sarah

He sounds hesitant, but agreeable.
"...you sure you can't just ask? It sounded like Thatch thought she would tell us. But I'll trust you to understand it better than me. I don't really understand how Trade fights this war, but I I know you're doing Good. I'd like you tell the others you have a lead on the compass, that you're handling it. That way they don't waste their time."

"And, should it come to Selena needing killing, do you know what she is? Demon or Band? Soldier? I won't attack her until your part is over, unless it's that you need saving or, um"--here, he pauses and speaks the next word with embarrassment--"avenging, but it'd help me to know, even if it's a few months from now. And it might help me tonight, since she was talking to the Russians.."

[Erulasto]

BRIGHTON HOUSE
Khalil Dhali

Solomon nods to Khalil, and Jerichael shoves his fists into his jacket pockets with a scowl as they slowly - cautiously - make their way over to the grinning Demon.

As they approach, the grin doesn't waver one iota. Instead, Zhangarmal claps his hands together and chuckles softly as he speaks with a thick accent born of a lifetime of speaking Cantonese.

"Wonderful! I am most pleased that you - my esteemed friends - could join me, here, today!" He gestures to a small diner across the street.
"Come, come. Let us get out of the rain, yes? I cannot speak for all of you, my friends, but I do not readily enjoy being...wet. I'm more of a....dry heat....sort of man, yes?"
The grin remains, and he takes a few tentative steps towards the diner, though never turning his back on the three Angels.
Solomon and Jerichael share a look, and glance towards Khalil as well. They're troubled, for sure, but also concerned at what sort of calamity this could escalate into if they tried to make a go for the Demon in the middle of a crowded street.

* * * * *


ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Sarah

It hadn't taken long for the valet to bring her car around - and she was comforted knowing that it was just as pristine and intact as it had been when the valet had taken it from her.

Once she was out and driving again, the Bright Lilim had her conversation with Haralambos. Sarah certainly was being stretched quite thin. It was thoroughly likely that Marc would want her to - at least - keep an eye on the goings on in the city, especially if there was some greater prophecy at play here. But a renegade Balseraph, the potential for a young girl to meet her Fate, and now Selena on top of which? There was only so much she could manage, even if she was a favored member of Marc's entourage.

It was only a few moments after Harry had finished his call with Sarah that her phone chimed twice with incoming text messages. The first appeared to be from Selena.

It didn't say much. Simply: Thx for the visit. Was nice to meet u! Let me know if u or Bethany need anything?

The second was from Claire. It contained several attachments in PDF format for her to peruse, including the meeting minutes from her sit down with Bethany, an updated time-table for the case, and a concise point-form analysis of Ellington and Wolf's case against Blackwater as it stood currently. For a human, she moved like Adele did when it came to her work. It was...impressive.

She knew that Mercy had been meeting with Jason and Mel at the Flower Shop, and that Solomon and Jerichael had opted to at least have a brief meeting with them as a chance to talk to the Balseraph.

Harry had been killing Soldiers - and a Demon of Gluttony - as he was wont to do. Ramiel - the Cherub of War brought in to protect one of the Five was likely doing his thing at Hollywood Arts. That was a pretty concise set of circumstances. The only real variables, thus so far, were the location of the Compass, the identities of the other four mortals, and maybe what in the High Heaven happened at Brighton House?

* * * * *


DUNKIN DOUGHNUTS

Haralambos

Hanna had taken all of Harry's explanation it seemed with a proverbial grain of salt. She certainly seemed to have a remarkable amount of composure given the nature of what was going on. But, even Harry would likely realize that if a Shedim had gotten into her uncle - the convicted killer Louis Dancourt who was currently having his case appealled at the level of the California Supreme Court - and had tried to kill her, it's likely she went through something far more traumatic than simply a fat Djinn and the righteous ass-whooping it got from Haralambos.

Hanna had agreed to meet him in about fifteen or twenty minutes at the nearest doughnut shop a few blocks away. She had to grab a few things before she left, but he watched her scurry away with an umbrella.

The apron did the trick and masked his features as he disposed of the Djinn's body in plain sight. By the time he was slipping away unseen and unnoticed, Lee's bloated body had already attracted some attention and far away sirens were heard in the distance once more - a seemingly common occurence in this neighborhood.

Once Harry got to the Dunkin' Doughnut, he saw Hanna sitting in a corner with a steaming mug of coffee and a few glazed doughnuts on the table in front of her.

She offered Haralambos a timid smile as he sat, and pushed a doughnut towards him in askance.

Then, she took a small nibble of her own, and washed it down with coffee containing so much cream and sugar it might as well have been white in color.
"Nice to meet you...I guess. I don't know what I can tell you that I didn't already tell the police and everyone else about what he did.....but I suppose the bits that stood out the most were this....I dunno...black oil that seemed to be covering his eyes and staining his teeth. He was drooling it as he laughed. Thick, black oil." She shudders unconsciously, and takes another sip of her coffee.

"Uncle Louis....or whatever it was.....said that someone was going to bring me a song that wouldn't make sense at first, but...um...he said I was going to get together with a few other friends and we were going to perform the song for somebody important...and...um...that...that's why I needed to die. I couldn't be allowed to sing the song, or something."

She sighed heavily.

"Look...it...it doesn't make any more sense to me, okay? I just...I just don't know what's going on."

[JeenLeen]

Dunkin Donuts

Harry's eyes have a mix of compassion and confusion at her story. He guessed it showed, given her last remark.
The Shedim didn't want her to sing? And what was that oil? It was a very unfortunate time for his Seraphic senses to fail.

"I believe you," he opens with, in complete sincerity. Maybe she has a detail or two wrong, but he believes she is telling the truth as she saw it.
"A lot of that doesn't make sense to me, either. But I," he sighs, then continues, "Angels aren't like most people think of them. We're made for different purposes, different strengths. I'm a fighter, not a thinker. I'm sure you're smarter than me. Most people are. So my main thoughts right now is that there's a creature after you I probably can't just punch, but I don't understand what it wants, or, well, didn't want, and I don't know what to do.

But I've got friends who are smarter. I'll talk to them. And one of my top priorities right now is making sure you're safe. If your uncle gets free, I'll do what I can to keep him away."
He grows a tad sheepish.
"I, um, I don't know what it's like to lose family. Don't have any. But I've lost friends. I reckon you feel confused about your uncle. If you want him to die for what he did, I understand that." Thinking back to Selena and Thatch, he continues, "But revenge can be Selfish, even if for a friend. I'd like to save both of you from the Bad Guys, if I can. Shedim corrupt, but there should still be a human soul worth saving in him."

[Anyr]

"She's an Impudite. And I doubt that Thatch knew. It's the kind of thing he'd probably have mentioned. As for just asking her...I honestly don't know what she'd do. Maybe she really would give it to us. Selena is a mess, Harry. She's desperately searching for a way out of the hole she's dug for herself. The trouble is, that exit could take many forms.

As for the other seekers, I wouldn't say that they're wasting their time. There has to be more than one way to find Thatch's coffee shop. They might well reach it before me. Anyway, Harry, I'd better go. You've given me a lot to think about."

Could Harry's straightforward suggestion actually be the right one? Sarah had felt that same impulse during the meeting: To reveal her true nature, and honestly reach out to Selena. But fear of the risks had restrained her. Selena might embrace Sarah like a lifebelt in a stormy sea; Or she might hand her new friend, and the compass, over to Andrealphus, in the hopes of earning a pardon. This wasn't like Jason's pure, direct desire for Redemption. Selena's desires had the potential for many paths. Sarah was already risking a lot. At the moment, she couldn't justify putting her life (and possibly those of the Five) in a Demon's hands.

No sooner had she hung up, when her phone received an extra dose of temptation. The seemingly innocent text message made Sarah second guess herself all over again. Was Selena reaching out to her? Augh, she really wanted to give that woman a hug! To tell her that striving for goodness was worth the trouble. Sarah had a feeling that, sooner or later, she'd surrender to that impulse.

But not yet. Today she was taking things step by step. Not all of Selena's Needs provoked a moral dilemma. Sarah could (hopefully) accomplish one of them with just a quick text message to Bethany.

[Just met with Selena Carter. She wants you to know that she's happy to help; And that she hopes you're okay.]

If only this whole case were that simple.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I think that that fulfills the favour that Selena requested. I'm guessing that this is a level 1 Geas?

[JeenLeen]

Sarah

"Alright. I'll trust you, but just be careful. Not meaning to be talking down to you -- I don't like it when the others do that to me -- but just I worry 'bout my fellows getting into fights. I get that your busy, but if you know anything special about the Dancourt murderer, could you send it my way? I think a Shedim was controlling him, going after one of the Five. Can fill you in later"

[XIII]

"Shut the **** up and get on with it, Gargamel. You smell like the bottom of a burning dumpster. What, you don't shower too? Also, nice haircut." Khalil's nerves were on fire, waiting for the inevitable betrayal. He moved cautiously toward the diner, pulling out his phone to check his messages briefly and making it look as if he sent a brief text. Khalil would continue to follow Solomon's lead, but pressed forward, eager to get this over with.

[seatyger]

Malchiel regarded the remnant for several moments. His song seemed familiar, but nothing from twisting vines from his long memory reached out to the Elohite's consciousness. Still, though, the music resonated within the Symphony, and Mel drank in its tones as he placed a comforting hand on the musician's shoulder on the way up the stairs.

"Sorry," he announced as he caught up with Jathiriel, "a little girl lost her teddy and needed a little help finding it."

He peered into the building past the penitent's shoulder.

"Come on. Let's see if there is anything of use in the apartment."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Mel is happy to follow Jathiriel up the stairs. It isn't his nature to push past folks; he's dispassionate, not rude.

[Erulasto]

DUNKIN DOUGNUTS

Haralambos

Hanna rests her face in her hands with a heavy sigh, and shakes her head slowly after a moment before continuing.

"I suppose having an Angelic equivilent of an MMA fighter watching out for me isn't so bad. No offense?" She offers him a shy smile, before taking another sip of her coffee. "My uncle was a bit distant at the best of times. He used to study a lof of ancient history and whatnot, you know? Was a Professor for a while at that special school...Brighton House...before he..um...you know." She shakes her head again, and taps her fingers on the tabletop in a strange, almost melodious rhythm.

"I appreicate the sentiment, Haralambos. But I think my uncle is a bit past saving. Even if you were able to...I dunno...kill or whatever, that thing in him? I can't imagine the cops being all like: 'Oh, he was possessed by a demon from Hell. I guess we'll let him out of jail now.' Besides, I don't think I could be in the same room with him without some traumatic BS flashbacks of what he did to me."

Hanna glances around a bit nervously, before her hands slip down to the collar of her shirt and she pulls it down to reveal her collarbone and the flesh beneath it. It's not much of a view, but the top of vivid scars that Louis anointed her flesh with are visible enough to give Harry a pretty gruesome, if distinct, idea of what she's talking about.

Once she releases the collar of her shirt, and settles it back into place to hide what's beneath, she quirks a brow thoughtfully. "You know....I was wondering. Do you work alone, or do you have like....a whole posse of Angels to keep the peace?"

* * * * *


ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Sarah

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Yes indeed! That's a Level 1 Geas under your belt!

It wasn't long after that a chime from her phone notified her that Bethany had responded with an all-caps YES and a number of thumbs-up and heart emojis. It's followed by a second text thanking the Bright Lilim again for all her help. Bethany even makes the rather ironic claim that she's lucky to have a Guardian Angel in Louboutins watching out for her.

After the text, there is a moment of respite for Sarah as she drove through the rain-slicked streets of Los Angeles. The respite was broken several heartbeats later when Sarah's phone rang, one more time.

The number that flashed caused a lump to form, heavy in her gut. It was Adam, and it was a simple text.

[Sarah. Your presence is needed immediately at my office. We have questions we would like for you to answer, if you are able.]
The Triad was requesting her presence. That was never a good thing.

As Sarah was driving, she happened to pass by the Oblivion Club and though it was closed for the moment - not set to open until the sun had begun to set - there was a surprising amount of activiy. Three large black SUV's with tinted windows were aligned in front of the club, and the street was filled with a few men and women in suits.

* * * * *


BRIGHTON HOUSE

Khalil Dhali

The Calabim grinned still, his expression not faltering in the face of Khalil's open hostility.

"Now now...control yourself." He opened his jacket wide, revealing dozens of small strips of a putty-like greyish-brown substace strapped to a thin black vest and interconnected by a multitude of wires. It was wide enough as well to reveal the rather large caliber handgun he wore in a holster at his side. It struck Khalil that he was well prepared to face three of the most competent Angels in Los Angeles by his lonesome. Even for a Calabim, he was proving that he may not have been as stupid as his Superior.

Once the jacket settles back into place, he looks around casually and takes a seat before the three Angels. Jerichael and Solomon seem a bit paler than normal at the revelation of the dead man's switch being worn by the Demon, but neither seem particularily interested in sitting with the Calabim.
"I am here to give you a message. On my word." The grin actually fell from his face, as he leaned forward and tipped his mirrored shades down to regard the trio of Angels with unmasked eyes for a moment.

"We've got a little something in the works here, and, while I'm sure you'd all love to be the monkey wrench in our plans, I don't think that would be a good idea. See, your little divine librarian? The one who'se a pile of slag in the wreck of the school over there? He was the warning. I know the little bastard of Revelations got a message to you. Sod off and leave it alone and we don't start offing any more of your....friends. Feel me?" The Calabim leaned back, and clasped his hands over his lap while the grin started to spread on his face again.

"Not that I don't love the idea of burning you all to cinders, but Bethrezen would rather this be a...hmmm...a quiet transition. No sense stressing her out. It'll be a bitter enough pill to swallow without adding in any more death, feel me?"

[Erulasto]

THACHAEL'S LOFT

Jathiriel and Malchiel

It didn't take long to arrive at the door to Thachael's loft. The door was painted a faded forest green, and it was scuffed near the door handle which sat in a mess of splintered wood. The door was closed - barely staying that way - having been only partially repaired after being forced open by the hit squad that came for the Angel of Litheroy.

Several bright yellow strips of police tape were placed across the door, denoting this as an active crime scene - though really, it was long enough ago that it was likely that no police would have been making any new trips to this side of town to investigate what was, apparently, a home invasion.

It was easy to get inside, simply pushing the door open and stepping between two strips of the tape. The door opened with a groaning sound - the abused hinges needing some love and maybe some WD-40.

Inside was dim, but it seemed as though it would only have been as such due to the dreary clouds outside. The tall bay windows were covered only in thin, gauzy white curtains that probably allowed a great deal of ambient light to filter through on a bright day. The floor was old hardwood, and was in desperate need of a good waxing. It was also cluttered with debris and what appeared to be several bloodstains.

It had a lot of the common trappings of a young man in a loft. A shiny computer sat on a sleek IKEA desk - all dark stained wood and chrome. Notepads, portable hard drives and a handful of pens stuffed into an empty coffee mug sat on the top along with a couple CD's and a boxed copy of World of Warcraft. The kitchen was a bit dated, but it was in good repair. There was a bathroom tucked off to the side, near a large bank of bookshelves that covered almost an entire wall from floor to ceiling in books and stacks of paper.

A few esoteric paintings hung on the unfinished brick walls - some of them bearing gashes or gouges from a struggle.

A familiar looking bed - the one that Thatch and his Red Lady sat upon during one of his Vlogs - sat rather prominently in the middle of the loft, facing a wide-screen television on the wall next to a small Blu-ray player. An old nightstand next to the table had a thick, heavy looking leather bound book with colored tabs sticking out to save a number of pages. Next to it was an ash tray filled with cigarette stubs - all long since cold. A pack of matches bearing the mark of the Rhapsody in Red sat next to them, almost empty now save two or three.

Laying atop the blood speckled sheets of the bed was a small picture frame - simple and chrome - with cracked glass. On it, was a picture of an absolutely gorgeous woman with multi-hued blonde hair and wearing a red sweater and black sweat pants hugging Thatch from behind as they sat on a pier watching the sunset. It was a candid photograph, and it seemed they were giving each other major heart eyes.

[XIII]

Khalil had plenty of ideas on how he'd like to take down the scum across from him. Almost all could end up with him, his friends, and every human in the immediate vicinity killed. It was time to play it cool, he could always track him down later. Maybe.

"Oh, ok. Was that all?" Khalil said, a bit disappointed. A demon just told him to stop struggling against the infernal powers or they'd kill more angels. Imagine that. "They're really thinking outside the box downstairs, eh? Stop it or we'll keep killing you like we have been anyway? Can I go now?"

[JeenLeen]

Dunkin Donuts

Harry listens with consolation on his face she talks, a fleeting smile at the mention of an "MMA fighter". It's a shame Soph was dead for now; he might've known more about Louis, having worked at the same place.

He grimaces at seeing the scars. Not at the sight of the wounds themselves -- he's had, and inflicted, far worse -- but at the thought of them being inflicted upon an innocent child.

At her question, he gets a puzzled look for a moment before answering, "Er, sorta? I mostly work alone, unless another angel wants help. I'd tell you more, but a lot of angels like to keep their lives private. Like, I knew that fat man was a demon, so I went after him. Demons might do the same to us. Heh, I admit, before you showed up at that flophouse, I was kinda hoping a demon would've heard the noise and came, to put two back in hell today. But a human soul is more important than putting a demon down."

He pauses, a few wheels clicking in his mind -- and probably showing some puzzlement on his face.
"How... why did you come to the flophouse? I saw your disgust at seeing Lee, but, um... And you told me earlier it said you needed to Sing--I remember that clearly--but you mentioned just now it said you couldn't be allowed to Sing. Right?"

Harry tries to activate his Resonance again, knowing it's too soon, and feels the familiar headache of his senses being dazed. The activity of late had had him using it a lot. What a blasted, Fated time to lose his angelic sense of Truth.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

By the way, I wouldn't have had Harry tell about other angels regardless of what I suspect. I almost had him say more in my post before realizing stuff OOC, but realized that'd be "not cool" in angelic society.

Right now, he reckons she's confused, and he's confused about why/how she came to the flophouse, mainly thinking as a prophet she might hear Noise. He's not suspecting Shedim. Still, an inconsistency puts a Seraph on edge, so let's try Detect Lies. Sadly, he's untrained as he overly relies on his angelic senses.

(2d6)[9] @ 6 (Urgh, it's Perception - 2)
(1d6)[5]

[Anyr]

Sarah was glad to give Bethany some good cheer. And in return, Bethany's replies made Sarah feel warm inside. This simple exchange of text messages managed to capture the essence of Trade. Marc's Word encompassed so much more than numbers on a balance sheet. It resonated throughout the best aspects of humanity.

Okay, no time to rest. Sarah's workload had already grown substantially. She needed to lighten it before some new crisis came-

*Ring Ring*

...along. Sarah literally groaned when she saw the incoming number. Adam only called when there was a problem: Or rather, when he thought there was a problem. Then some unfortunate Angel would have to waste valuable time putting Adam's mind at ease. Sarah did her best to empathise with the demanding Seraph. But he hadn't exactly made that easy. As usual, she responded to his text immediately. Any delay would make him even crabbier.

[On my way.]

Then she drove at high speed towards his office. Hopefully she'd be able to satisfy this latest inquisition quickly. She had a lot of better things to do.

[seatyger]

THACHAEL'S LOFT

Laying atop the blood speckled sheets of the bed was a small picture frame - simple and chrome - with cracked glass. On it, was a picture of an absolutely gorgeous woman with multi-hued blonde hair and wearing a red sweater and black sweat pants hugging Thatch from behind as they sat on a pier watching the sunset. It was a candid photograph, and it seemed they were giving each other major heart eyes.

Taking note of the state of the room and deciding to inspect the computer and drives later, Malchiel produced an ornate compass from the inside pocket of his jacket. It's artful construction matched the one shown by Thatch in his vlogs, though it's condition was nearly pristine, as if it had been created a week ago, rather than centuries.

"We need something of the girl's," he said, gesturing with the compass toward the picture on the bed. "A few hairs should be sufficient -- look for a brush in the bathroom. I'll see if there's something useful on the bed."

[Erulasto]

ADAM'S OFFICE

Sarah

Adam had his office at the courthouse of Los Angeles - he was acting as a young lawyer for the District Attorney's Office, after all. The building was grand and impressive, as any monolithic structure devoted to order and judiciary hearings was bound to be. No one paid Sarah much attention as she entered, aside from having to pass through a security checkpoint and metal detector. The guards were alert, though clearly a bit on the bored side. One portly man behind the monitor for the metal detector cast her a single, cursory glance before waving her on her way.

As she made her way to the elevators, she caught a glimpse of several armed prisoner guards flanking a tired - if a bit manic looking - man in his late forties. He was emaciated and looked unkempt in his bright orange jumpsuit, the shackles about his feet and hands rattling with each shuffling step he took. His shoulder length hair was a greasy, unwashed mousey brown and his eyes were cold - but haunted. Louis apparently hadn't shaved recently either, for the scruff on his chin and jaw were full enough to show sparse patches of wispy greys. Next to him was a man who bore the look of a shark. All sleek lines and predatory glint in his eyes. He was clean shaven, with expertly groomed hair and a tailored pinstripe suit. Recognition struck her momentarily as she realized this was none other than Louis Dancourt and his attourney - most likely on their way to one of the appeall hearings that the news had been speaking about recently.

As they headed off to whatever meeting was waiting for them, Sarah entered the elevator to the third floor where Adam's office was.

A few of the interns and paralegals smiled and nodded to her in a polite greeting as she made her way down the hall, a familiarity with the workings here striking her accutely. This place resonated with truth, justice and an optimistic drive to see good prevail.

Adam's office, however, was - frankly - oppressive. The decor was dark - polished, stained wood and heavy black-out curtains covered the windows that would have allowed the room a great view of the early morning sun. Adam was sitting behind his desk, the dark navy blue suit he wore and black tie shadowing him into the dimness of the room. The most surprising element of the room, however, was that Rezzael - the Malakim of Judgement - was present as well, though he appeared distinctly uncomfortable in a nice blazer and slacks instead of the usual monks robes he wore when he was on his own business.

Adam barely looked up when Sarah entered - it could have been a slight towards her, or simply Adam being a disingenuous dickbag as usual.

He was busy tapping away on his computer, but deigned to speak at her, rather than to her. "Sarah. So good of you to join us. Have a seat." Adam still hadn't acknowledged her any more than necessary, but she caught a look from Rezzael as he leaned next to one of the heavily curtained windows.

The Malakim nodded a curt, but polite greeting to Sarah though the look in his eyes was....uncertain? Wary? The sudden realization that the Malakim was hesitant about whatever this meeting would be about was like a bucket of cold water dumped over Sarah.

Whatever Adam had to say, it wasn't likely to be good news.

* * * * *


THACHAEL'S LOFT

Malchiel

The bed was messy - it hadn't been disturbed overly much since the night of Thatch's death - though Malchiel was sure that the police forensic team had combed over it as thoroughly as they could.

The sheets were speckled with old, dried blood. Malchiel couldn't be sure whose it was. Dust had gathered on the ultra-modern headboard, though one small area was much thinner than the rest - as if something had been sitting there until recently.

The picture of Thachael and his Red Lady still sat on the bed, atop the covers, looking as if someone had tossed it there out of hand. Upon closer inspection, the frame had been broken as well, and the corner of the picture jutted out precariously as the whole thing threatened to come undone at the slightest nudge. What really drew his eye, however, was the thin white stripe of a folded piece of paper jammed into the back of the frame to be hidden between the picture itself and the cork backing of the frame.

As Malchiel approached, his foot clipped something solid hidden just out of sight under the bed and obscured by dangling sheets and comforters.
Maybe the forensic team hadn't done such a good job after all.

* * * * *


DUNKIN DOUGHNUTS

Haralambos

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I'm really glad you're speculating so much! I feel horrible when I can't be as consistent with posting as I'd like, but it's good to know that you're still enjoying it.

One the subject of the black tar look, it wouldn't be the common appearance of a Shedim in celestial form necessarily. Seigemonkeys inquired the same thing after Ramiel's encounter with it in the school. I'd go out on a limb and say that it's likely Harry would at least recognize the similarity between the tar and a Shedim, if not have an accurate idea of what it exactly is.

From a meta perspective, withouth going into great plot detail for fear of spoilers, I will at least confirm that it IS a Shedim - though I've made a few small adjustments to flavor for the purposes of Distinctions and/or Superior.

As far as all the speculation goes as to who or what Hanna is, the paranoia is like frosting on a cake for me. Mwah ha ha ha! I guess we'll see how things play out! You're free to try and stick with Hanna as long as you like - though I'm sure Madman Harry isn't someone Hanna is anxious to introduce to her adopted mom. That'd take some serious explaining.

Hanna seems content at least with Harry's explanation about the possibility of companions, and his hope to slay another Demon. She smiles a little at his earnest desire to send the Fallen back to Hell. It's good to love your work, right? Harry certainly isn't what Hanna would have expected an Angel to be like, but then again - she of all people should remember not to judge a book by its cover.

When Harry makes his puzzled inquiry into her own words to him, she pales slightly and frowns in consternation. Harry can almost see the neurons in her brain firing and making an attempt to find an answer to his question.

At first, she simply asks, in a quiet voice. "I heard some shouting and some noise from the house...and I know one of the kids who lives there. Name is Curtis. I wanted to make sure he was okay. He used to get into screaming matches with his parents, and he'd show up at school with a bruise or two sometimes. But...eh...seeing what was going on in there, I'm starting to wonder, you know?"

At the mention of Singing, Hanna seemed to wince and Harry could see her small hands balling into white-knuckled fists. The half-torn napkin she had been meticulously tearing into small peices was left abandoned on the tabletop.

Her mouth opens once, then twice, as if she's trying to find the right words. It's almost comical, if she didn't seem so....anxious about it.

"I....don't know Harry. I can't really...remember..." Her features take a bit more of a greenish hue as she's visibly struggling - mind seemingly racing. "I....I can't.....I have to Sing. I...know...but....they don't...want me to? Oh...oh God!" Then, just as suddenly as the anxiety begins to erupt on her face, eyes beginning to become wild and pulse erratic, Hanna turns from Harry and promptly begins vomiting on the floor of the Dunkin Doughnuts.

From the cash register, the middle-aged cashier calls over. "Hey! Is she okay?"

* * * * *


BRIGHTON HOUSE

Khalil Dhali

The Calabim nodded to Khalil with a grin, and stepped away from the trio of Angels.

"Yeah, that's all. I don't get paid to be creative, lapdog. Just to deliver the message....or the burn." He chuckled to himself as he turned to make his way out of the cafe. "Remember what I told you. You've got a lot of pretty little friends in this city, and I know a few of the Fallen who would just love to get their hands on someone like your Bright Lilim or maybe the Flower girl, yeah? Toodles!" With that, the Calabin was stepping back out into the rain and pausing to light a cigarette before wandering back in the direction of Brighton House - to no doubt admire his handiwork some more.

Solomon and Jerichael shared a dark look on their faces, but it was short lived enough that it appeared neither were entirely keen on the idea of letting this go.

It was Jerichael who gruffly spoke first. "If they're sending us a clear message like this, I suspect they're not in as much of a position of power as the Demons want us to think. If they really had the upper hand, would they even bother to try and warn us away?"

[JeenLeen]

Harry starts to say, with hesitation and fear, how the imps had cooked whoever lived in that house, with disgust and fear for the child she was mentioning... but then her expression froze him to silence.

At her sickness, he rushes to her side, holding her firmly but comfortingly, safely. When the clerk speaks, he replies with worry, "I... I don't know." After a moment's pause, he remembers and says, "She was told to stay home from school today. I thought she was okay. Sorry." He turns to Hanna, speaking softly, "Let's get you home," trying to help her to her feet once the vomiting ends.

With one hand supporting her, he reaches the other into his pocket and tosses a few twenties on the table, hoping that makes up somewhat for the unpleasant work that'll be required. He also eyes the vomit for a moment, his faint suspicions in the back of his head eyeing for the celestial form of a Shedim.

Whatever did this to her, he'd make it pay. In the back of his mind, a small part thinks, if she is some demon playing him, then that fiend will definitely pay.
He doesn't focus on it, though. Concern for the girl, confusion at what's happening, and frustration at things he can't punch away--that is what fills his mind.

Spoiler: if Shedim

Show

If he does see the celestial form of a Shedim, he pauses to put some napkins on the vomit and whispers, firmly with frustrated rage, "Let's talk outside."

I forget if demons understand Celestial or not. If they do, he says it in the angelic tongue. If not, whispered English.
I also forget what the roll is to see Celestial forms. Please feel free to roll it for me, if needed.

[XIII]

"I'm surprised they pay their bitch-boys. Of course you'd threaten them and not us, not enough balls to come at me, eh? At least you're not too brain dead to realize your place, it would take more than a wet-around-the-ears errand boy like you to entertain us. Run along now, Sparky." Khalil smiled at the thought of watching the Calabim burn, it kept his rage at bay. It would be a slow burn.

"I agree, Jerichael. We should warn everyone else nonetheless, vermin are most dangerous when cornered. Whatever they're up to, it's big enough to get them anxious." Khalil spoke hurriedly, not wanting to lose the trail of the Calabim. "I'm going to find out what I can, I'll try to stay out of trouble. Excuse me my friends." Unless they stopped him, Khalil was in a hurry to shadow the filthy servant of Belial. The time would come to burn him, but this was about collecting intelligence.

Khalil pulled out his phone, before heading out the door and sent a group text.

Sarah and Harry
[Disturbance was an attack. Many casualties, one of ours down. They threatened to target Bright-Lawyer and Flower Girl next. Be safe, stay vigilant. Madman, I'm on the hunt.]

Khalil hated texting, it made his paranoia go off. But it was quick and easy, he didn't want to lose the Calabim

[Anyr]

Sarah had been to the courthouse plenty of times. She walked its august corridors almost by rote. Today, though, her steps were quick and impatient. There wasn't time to bask in this place's comforting atmosphere. The visit was just a distraction from her other responsibilities. But when the Triad summons you, you answer. Adam was empowered to demand the attendance of any Angel in the city. Sarah just wished that he'd stop abusing that privilege.

The encounter with Louis Dancourt didn't help. As Sarah walked past, she had trouble meeting his eyes. Serial killers had their own special kind of sickness. Many were the products of Infernal meddling; While others were just exercising their God-given free will. Either way, their Needs tended to be far from pleasant. Sarah really didn't want to see inside this man's head. But she looked anyway...and immediately regretted it. Sarah cared deeply for humanity. It genuinely hurt to see a human so defiled. Dancourt practically oozed with the most vile of influences. With a visible shudder, Sarah committed all she'd learnt about him to memory. The knowledge might prove useful to Harry and the others. Besides, she wanted to believe that that horrible experience had some kind of upside.

After that, Sarah hurried even faster to her destination. Despite her worsening mood, she made sure to return each friendly greeting she received along the way. These employees bore no blame for her troubles. They deserved a friendly smile to help improve their day: Especially if that day included a visit to Adam's office. Sarah felt the pressure skyrocket as she crossed the threshold. The whole room was in desperate need of a makeover. How did fostering paranoia and discomfort aid the cause of justice? Sarah had a hunch that Malphas would approve of this decor. She gave a respectful nod to Adam, and his unexpected companion. Rezzael was here too? Maybe this meeting really was important; Not that that was necessarily a good thing. At Adam's prompting, Sarah took a seat in front of his desk. She mentally braced herself for whatever would come next.

"Reporting as instructed. What do you need?"

[Erulasto]

BRIGHTON HOUSE

Khalil Dhali

Jerichael and Solomon both nod, and offer gentle farewells before stepping away together, muttering to themselves – no doubt planning, and strategizing.

The Calabim watched the fire burn for another ten or fifteen minutes, polishing off nearly as many cigarettes in the same amount of time. Eventually, he flicked the last stub of a cigarette away and shoved his hands into his jacket pocket before beginning to walk away from the smoldering wreck of Brighton House’s library, and towards a heavily wooded park a few blocks away.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Please give me a Move Silently test. If you don’t have it – I don’t recall if you do or not, and I don’t have your sheet in front of me – it’s Agility based with a default of -1.

* * * * *


DUNKIN DOUGHNUT

Haralambos

The vomit appeared to be just that – vomit. Lots of it, mind you, but nothing more.

As Harry tosses the twenties onto the table, the cashier is left with a strange expression on their face. One part a cringe of disgust, and one part surprise at the rather hefty bribe for the clean-up.

Hanna, however, seems to sink into his side as he wraps a comforting arm around her shoulder. The young woman seems distant, with a glazed, vacant expression. Something was seriously wrong with her. Harry may not have been exceptionally knowledgeable in human ailments, but he knew that this didn’t appear to be a simple stomach virus, or upset tummy.

After a moment, body wracked with shaky breaths, the fugue seems to begin to lift and Hanna glances up at Harry weakly.

”C…Can you…take me…home?”

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Is Harry planning on watching over Hanna all day, or will he tuck her into her own house and head out?

* * * * *


ADAM’S OFFICE

Sarah

After Sarah voiced her compliance with Adam’s request, there was a stretch of silence while Adam continued to type away on his keyboard. The silence stretched just long enough that even Rezzael looked frustrated, and was just opening his mouth to speak when Adam abruptly stopped his work and turned his attention to Sarah.
He stared at her with a smile that didn’t meet his deep, dark eyes.

”And Judgement appreciates your punctuality.” He leans back in his leather chain, and steeples his fingers together in a languid show of thoughtfulness.

”Your service to your Word and, in your own way, the War has been exemplary, Sarah. You stand in a most fortuitous position, at the moment. It seems that Judgement has need of your services. In return, we are prepared to give your our official backing in any…bids you may be seeking to make for advancement. How does that sound to you?”

Spoiler: Seraph Resonance

Show

(2d6)[4][2](6)
(1d6)[3]
Edit: Success.

He rises from his desk, and makes his way to one of the curtains before shifting it slightly to peek outside – allowing a bright lance of sunlight to pierce the gloom.

”We have reason to believe that there is a traitor among us. They have been feeding information to the Fallen for some time, but have managed to stay beneath our notice. Until recently. This is, ultimately, the reason I was sent here to Los Angeles. Dominic trusts my ability to….discover those Outcasts who are damning themselves, and us.”

He turns the dark gaze back to Sarah, and a slow grin spreads on his face.

”Tell me, Sarah. How close are you really with Adele?”

[Anyr]

Every second of theatrical silence grated on Sarah. She had better things to do than sit in this office. When Adam finally deigned to speak, his opening remarks put her immediately on guard. He phrased them in a way close to both her Choir and Word: As a deal. That was a bad sign. Adam usually didn't bother with deals. He just expected people to obey. In other words, he knew that a simple instruction wouldn't be enough this time. As he continued, the sense of foreboding grew. A possible traitor within the ranks? No wonder Adam had sweetened the pot. Sarah would naturally be averse to siding with Judgement against a comrade. Who was it? That nervous tech expert, maybe? The dreamer?

Then he said the name. Then Sarah's world froze over. No. No no no no no. Not Adele. Anyone but Adele. Sarah didn't believe it for a moment, of course. Judgement had made a mistake. But that'd be small comfort for the prey in their sights. Was Adam really so deluded as to suspect Adele? Sarah dearly wanted to say that aloud: Preferably while shaking Adam by his collar. With great difficulty, she suppressed that urge. Her purpose was to find the path of greatest good. For her dear friend's sake, Sarah had to maintain a dialogue. Maybe with some diplomacy, she could dissuade Adam from this insane hunt.

"...Very close. May I ask what evidence has caused you to suspect her?"

That's it, Sarah. Stay calm. Staaayyyy caaaalllllmmmm.

[Siegemonkeys]

HOLLYWOOD ARTS HIGH SCHOOL
10:00 AM

Ramiel

Mrs.O’Donnell gives a pleased hum of acknowledgement at Sam’s quick-thinking concern for his friend, and simply waves a hand towards the door before returning her attention to the classroom and continuing her lessons for the day.

Ramiel would catch a glimpse of stilted rage and interrupted malice upon Agatha’s face as she glares proverbial daggers towards him, but it is likely of no real concern to the Cherub.

When the two of them make their way out of the classroom, Malcolm leans heavily upon Ramiel’s shoulder for support – and he can feel the tremors wracking the students body as his mind and body rebel against the hideous sight he’s seen.

Malcolm ends up sitting on the floor, back against some lockers with his head buried between his knees. The Cherub can hear the ragged breathing begin to slowly calm as Malcolm sorts through the traumatic experience.

”Thanks dude.” He whispers hoarsely after a few moments. ”What the **** was that, man? Like something out of a nightmare…..but I’m not sleeping, am I? This **** is real?”

Spoiler: OOC

Show

If Ramiel wants to tell Malcolm the truth, go for it. If he wants to be deceitful or try and spin the tale into something a little different, please make a Fast-Talk roll (or the appropriate skill default otherwise).

Sam shakes his head. "No, you're definitely awake. But you're safe now, so just take a sec to calm down, alright?" When Malcolm was relatively calmed down, or at least not on the verge of passing out from fear, Sam sighs and runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Alright, so...where to begin? This is actually the first time I've ever had to explain this stuff to a...well, first, I need to do me a favor here, alright? I'm gonna tell you what's going on, but you gotta promise to hear me out. Cause what I'm gonna tell you is probably gonna sound crazy." He takes a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts on where to start. He looks left and right, making sure they were still alone before he continues. "Alright, so. By any chance, are you religious? Cause if you weren't before, you're gonna be now, cause that thing was a demon and there's a lot more of them out there in this city. Most of them don't walk around looking like that though; Most have a vessel to blend in and look human. That particular kind of demon doesn't follow the normal rules though; Instead it's kind try to possess people to get the same effect. Considering how it was inching towards Mrs. O'Donnell, it was probably going to possess her. Now, before you start freaking out though, take a second and realize that if demons are real, that kinda means angels have to be real too, right? Cause they're out in the city too, and they also walk around in human disguises. I'll guarantee you've met them already and never even realized it. Sometimes they're that nice old lady that runs a bakery, sometimes they're that traffic cop that lets you go with a warning if you promise to slow down...And uh, sometimes they're that new kid that transfers into class and sits at the desk right next to you." He says, a bit of a clumsy way to admit to what he was, but then again he didn't exactly have a lot of experience telling humans what he was. "Now, before you start calling me crazy, remember what you just saw and remember how nobody else seemed to see what you and I saw. I saw it cause it's normal for angels and demons to see each other in their true forms. Normally, humans can't see us at all when we're like that. The fact you can see us in our celestial forms is part of the reason I'm here, and it also means I've actually gotta try and explain to you all this **** while trying not to sound like a crazy person. How am I doing on that so far?"

[JeenLeen]

Harry nods to the girl, helping her walk out the door. He walks in a path to avoid walking right by the flophouse Lee was killed in--if that adds an extra block or so to come around the other side of the block, so be it.

Thoughts race through Harry's mind. She's worse than he thought, with something strange. It sounds like Shedim had her uncle, but no Shedim he ever heard of looked like that. And her lies... it seemed like she didn't realize she was lying. Could a demon mess with a human's memories? Harry vaguely recalls that Blandine's dreamers could do that sometimes. Maybe the Princess of Nightmares could as well?
Or was she really a girl named Hanna? If demons were watching her -- he was sure they were to some degree -- was it her 'mother', or that cop uncle, maybe? Or just nightmare demons that Thatch and Blandine's guy in tweed were talking about.

His eyes show worry. So much harder when he can't just punch it.

Once inside, he helps her to her room and get into bed, saying, "Rest, but, um, try not to sleep. Nightmares would probably be bad now. Hanna, I don't know what's wrong with you, but I think demons did something. Did you see anything odd, or talk to anyone, after leaving me before meeting in the donut place?" If she can't answer, he doesn't press her. After she responds, he asks, "Do you have a phone book?"

Once she's settled, he looks up the number for Mercy's flower shop. Michael said Novalis' group wasn't bad, just kinda not pulling their weight. Well, he'd helped her out when needed in the past, and maybe she knew something.
If Mercy answers, he says, "Mercy, it's, um, Haralambos. I feel odd calling you, but you know about protecting life. I'm pretty sure I found one of the Five. Hanna, who that Louis Dancourt tried to kill. He killed her parents, and she lives with Louis' sister now. I don't really understand the family workup. But something's wrong with her..."
Harry describes what Hanna saw, her nightmares, and how she reacted to his noticing her inconsistencies. Including how she came to the flophouse after his fight with Lee, but seemed to be making up why--like she didn't really know the reason and had to rationalize it. "Don't humans do that when Shedim make 'em do something? What if she was possessed and followed him? But she wasn't lying when she told me about what she saw." With embarrassment, Harry admits his Seraphic senses burned out at that critical moment in the diner, when so much more was said, but he feels she wasn't lying so much as... messed up in the mind.
"Have you heard of something like that, either if that is a type of Shedim, or what could make her react like that? I'm afraid to leave her, but I don't think I should be here when her adopted mom gets home."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I realize a few things may interrupt my narrative. Just truncate it as needed if, say, we don't actually get inside.

EDIT: if he doesn't reach Mercy, I guess he calls Jerechial and says basically the same, just adding that he grabbed Lee's phone & keys in case that's helpful to anyone and can drop them off at the Howlitzer later.

[Erulasto]

ADAM’S OFFICE

Sarah

Adam leaned forward, a thin-lipped smile on his face. ”Of course. You may ask anything you wish. We are being…candid here, of course. It would not do well for business partners to hold out on one another, would it?” Again, Adam seemed to push the idea that partnering with Judgement in this regard could lead to all sorts of advantages for Sarah.

”We know Adele has been talking to Inanna. If she has dealings with an Ethereal…” he nearly spits the word, disgust coloring his tone. ”…and she’s hiding them, it stands to reason she is hiding other things.”

Adam reaches into a drawer on his desk, and pulls out a large manila envelope. From within, he draws a half-dozen large photographs of Adele either outside, or just within the Babylon Club. One final picture shows Adele sitting at a table in the club itself, across with a woman whose exotic beauty put Selena to shame. But, as much of a shock as this may have been, Sarah did know Adele. The expression on her face and the body language in the pictures is….wrong somehow.

”I realize this may come as a surprise to you, Sarah, but Adele could be dangerous to us – to you – in such a…politically unstable time period. Tell me. Has she…done anything out of the ordinary recently?” The smile that Adam is wearing is like that of a hunter who has just about lured his prey into the trap. It’s incredibly self-satisfied.

And to top it all off, Rezzael is looking rather stricken. It’s like this whole interaction is leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

* * * * *


HOLLYWOOD ARTS HIGH SCHOOL

Ramiel

Malcolm spends most of the monologue just sort of staring at Ramiel with a look between disbelief and horrible realization. When Ramiel alludes to being an Angel himself, Malcolm actually cracks a weak smile and chuckles softly.

At the end, he groans and wipes his hands across his face with exasperation.

”Well, **** man. That’s a bit heavier than I was expecting. I thought…maybe like…Aliens? Or rogue government experiements? But literal ANGELS and DEMONS? ****.” Malcolm shakes his head, and looks back to Ramiel with a strange expression.

”So…why can I see all this? What’s got a Demon and…I suppose and Angel….interested in me?” He reaches into his bag with a shaky hand – though the tremors are beginning to subside a bit – and pulls out a handful of granola bars. He offers one to Ramiel, before ripping one open and taking a bite of his own.

”And….maybe I’m just running my mouth here…but is your name really Sam?”

* * * * *


HANNA’S HOUSE

Haralambos

Hanna is easily navigated back home, and seems to relax somewhat when Harry helps her tuck into her room. She crawls into bed, and while she doesn’t seem to be ready for sleep, she pops earbuds in on her iPod and begins listening to music while curling up into a ball, sniffling softly, and trying to settle the last of her nerves. She doesn’t really give Harry much of an answer to his questions, just a slow shake of her head.

When Harry asks about a phone book, she finally speaks up, voice a bit hoarse, and softly murmurs. ”On the kitchen counter.” And goes back to the state of near-catatonia on her bed.

The phone book is exactly where she said it would be, and after a quick ring on the telephone, Mercy answers with a bright and cheerful. ”Hello! Mercy’s Flower Shop, how can I help you?”

Mercy offers a friendly greeting to Harry when he lets her know it’s him, but otherwise remains silent while he explains the situation.

After he’s done, there is a pregnant pause on the line, a soft humming being the only sound for a moment.

”I’m no expert, Harry, but it doesn’t sound like she was a Shedim’s host. They’re usually not happy to be in and out of a host, especially since they need to make attempts at corrupting a host a little more each day. I’m loathe to say it, but she doesn’t sound like that kind of victim. If I had to guess? Maybe she was the target of a Song? The Song of Possession lets anyone ride along, and it doesn’t have the same….limits…that the Shedim do. Maybe if she was hosting a Demon, it was a temporary thing? Or maybe someone did something to her memories? There are Songs that could do that as well, and the resonance of some Demons are good at mixing up how a human see’s the world.”

She sighs wistfully. ”I’d keep an eye on her if I were you, Harry. Especially if you think she might be one of the Five. But be careful. Everything is a mess right now, and if a Demon thinks you’re protecting her, you may find more than a little trouble. In Hanna’s case, it seems like Hell’s answer to her was to send Louis to kill her. At least he’s in jail – for the moment. They may not be ready to make any further moves against her yet. I know you’re solid in a fight, Harry, but please…be careful.”

[Erulasto]

A FEW BLOCKS FROM BRIGHTON HOUSE

Khalil Dhali

The Calabim cuts down an alley that runs parallel to the park he was heading towards, ducking out of the line of sight of regular folks passing by. One one side of the alley is a fire escape that leads up the side of a six story apartment block, and the other side is filled with heavy, metal security doors for a line of fast-food restaurants - their trash piled up just outside the door in overflowing dumpsters.

If Khalil follows the Calabim into the alley, he finds him leaning against a dumpster puffing on another cigarette.

[JeenLeen]

"Thanks, Mercy. I appreciate it." Harry sighs. "One confusing thing is that, when we first talked, she said she'd be killed for not singing. Then later she'd be killed so she couldn't sing. I think the demons want her alive, at least for now. ...with Louis, have you ever heard of Shedim making their host look like that?"

Harry checks on her again, telling her he's going out but will be back later today, if he can. He also tries to listen for a hint of what she's listening to, in case it's something odd like Malcolm's music. He mentions that he can turn into a pigeon, so a pigeon is probably him. A raven is probably another angel. But that some demons have animal forms, too.

Then, reluctantly, he leaves. He goes a few blocks until he's not seen, then sends the martial angels (Khalil, Jerechial, Solomon, and van Graff) a message.
[Heard Khalil tracking fire. Going to try to help. Any hints at where at? Pigeon going to listen for noise.]
He places his phone on the ground, assumes the shape of a pigeon, then flies towards Brighton House. ff he sees Solomon or Jerechial, he stops to get a direction, then continues flying. He stops and checks texts that come, if any, but is on the lookout for flames, gunshots, or the sound of Essence or celestials fighting.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I figure this is best for the next bit.

In case it matters, based on anything he senses or gets clues about.
Perception @ 8 (3d6)[1][3][6](10)
Tracking @ 10 (3d6)[4][3][3](10)

And if he does come upon his friend in a fight--pigeon diveball!
Fist/Kick
TN check for intervention: (2d6)[5]
Damage: (1d6+2)[5] (+1 due to ambush from above?)

[Anyr]

If Adam was expecting these photos to be undeniable proof of treason, he'd be disappointed. Oh, Sarah was certainly shocked by the revelation. She'd had no idea that Adele was involved with Ethereals. And the more she examined the pictures, the more questions they raised. The Adele captured in them seemed somehow different to the one she knew. Sarah peered into the memory of her friend's eyes. The Need she saw within them didn't make sense. Why would Adele have such a desire?

But none of these curiosities shook Sarah's faith. She was certain that Adele had an explanation for all of this. Adam was being lead astray by the long-standing enmity between Judgement and Wind. He didn't understand how important Janus' Servitors were to the world; And how important Adele was to Sarah. Of course, trying to explain the essential nature of freedom to him would be a waste of time. It'd be like explaining astrophysics to a fish. Sarah had to talk in a way that he'd understand. She knew the rules of dealing with Judgement. Rule one: Don't refuse to answer their questions. Rule two: Don't lie. Rule three: Don't seem evasive. Rule four: It's still possible to fool them while following all the rules.

"Out of the ordinary? Adele doesn't exactly do 'ordinary'. Servitors of the Wind are supposed to be spontaneous. How are we supposed to tell if someone's acting strange, when they always act strange?"

No stonewalling; No lies; No blatant evasions. Just a reasonable, honest answer. And yet, Sarah hadn't actually told Adam anything. While (hopefully) seeming to cooperate, she continued nudging the conversation in a more reasonable direction.

"Anyway, I agree that these photos raise some questions. But you've yet to show me anything treasonous. Talking to Ethereals isn't a crime. And Adele isn't obligated to inform us of her every conversation. Do you have any solid evidence of her being a traitor?"

If such negotiations were really a crime, then Marc himself would be public enemy number one. When Angels and Ethereals wanted to make a deal, they all knew which Word to contact...

...So why had Adele gone to that meeting alone? Oh God, please let her be safe...