<strong>Name</strong>: Tiam (Form 1) (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=158203.msg7308096#msg7308096)<br/><strong>Species</strong>: Unknown (Assumed to be Demigod)<br/><strong>Location</strong>: D.C.E. Headquarters...thereabouts<br/><strong>Tagged</strong>: Enoch, Oleg<br/><br/>He could sense that something was about to happen.  The whispers from those only barely within tertiary degrees to anyone with any inkling of power flew through the air as he flitted from here and there in a nondescript form.  Most of his time was spent as invisible, barely traceable energy, only choosing to take a more socially acceptable form when it suited his needs.  The drones were restless, moving about with papers and files.  Supposedly they had one on him.  Perhaps he would peek at it when he chose to develop the motivation to do so, but at the moment, the polished black and white stationary with whatever they thought they knew was of little consequence to him.  He was much more interested in the parties who he assumed were gathering to kick off this shindig.<br/><br/>Tiam had found two interesting beings conversing, one a human and another reading as something else.  Material in body but more in substance.  He would keep an eye on that one.  He, of all beings, knew well the potential that power could have.  Whether it be good or evil, he was uncertain, and that really didn't matter to him.  He aligned himself no particular way, and the concepts were overused and over-idolized.<br/><br/>He chose only to take form after the subject of unappetizing fare had been passed for something more interesting.  Tiam suddenly stood where once there was mere air.  Whether the two seemed to notice was unapparent, not that he cared.  He stood in a pair of black slacks and a Victorian-style vest (http://www.infectiousthreads.com/Images/Shrine/big_m_vest_vic_arist_blk_gold.jpg) with a slim fitted black Oxford style shirt underneath.  One arm was bent in front of him, a long dark coat hanging over it as if he'd just come in.  His eyes moved from first one man then the other quickly before he spoke in an unintentionally propitious tone, "The angels have not proven themselves to be the most trustworthy of beings."<br/><br/>The rather dapper man moved slowly over to a seat.  Each step held a grace coupled with a sense of danger like that of a viper laying in wait.  He brushed off the black fabric of his coat to flick away some speck of hidden imperfection before laying it over the back of the chair.  Tiam then took a seat and looked once more at the other men in the room.  "This angel told you to come here?"  His lips curled into a humorous smile as if he were trying not to laugh.