Abbaddon had arrived to the dorky little office ahead of time. Habit he supposed, checking the building for set ups and traps. So he is in there with the other angels when the demons arrive. However, he is probably the least dignified among them. The angels had worked to fit into the human world and most all of them were wearing three piece suits and ties with briefcases, shiny shoes, and watches.<br/><br/>Abbaddon had only heard 'wear human clothes'. So he went with his usual when hunting on Earth. The man is in black chained cargo pants with combat boots, a tight red muscle tee and a black leather jacket. His sword strapped to his back. This day in age he looked like some sort of displayed, especially with his red eyes and long silver hair piled high on his head. He really doesn't belong here and he knows it.<br/><br/>That is part of why he is sitting in the back, behind the others. Feet proped up on the counter and sipping a beer. He got word that peace talks had been bearing fruit and that there was some sort of 'peace offering' involved. All in all he figures this may well be his last meal so to speak. Why else would they have him here? If that was what God wanted of him, then so be it. He does feel a bit conflicted about dying though... he'd never thought before his Father would send him to the gallows. It made him twitchy in a way he wasn't used to and he could tell his twitchiness was aggravating the demons. He tries to relax and look chill, but he has no ides if it is working.<br/><br/>Michael looks stupid in a suit. He decides. At least the leader of heaven's armies looks uncomfortable as hell in that monkey suit.<br/><br/>Metatron, the voice of God, is speaking for their side and he stands when the demons arrive. "Tha k you for coming to meet with us again. I have a good feeling about today." He says with a large, entirely fake, smile.