<br/><strong>Vorianne -- Midtown Rooftop -- Welcome to Gilead</strong><br/><br/>She stood at the edge of the roof, one foot on the low concrete lip as the wind whipped along, tossling her flowing black hair with it's cold embrace.  She viewed the city below her with impassive eyes, the deep blue orbs free of any emotion as she watched the bustle of the Nephelim going about their 'lives'.<br/><br/>A slight frown, a small downturn of her lips, marred her lovely face. The Nephelim.  Her gloved fingers caressed her side, unconciously searching for the sword that was her badge of office, conspicuously absent from her side here in Gilead to help conceal her identity.  An arch angel is the service of her Lady, the divine Izuriel, she felt naked without the weapon, despite her fully clothed form.  The dark grey trenchcoat she wore fluttered in the wind, the hood cast back, over the lighter grey vest and khaki's beneath.  It was the form she walked among the Nephelim, a carefully crafted one meant to avoid attention.<br/><br/>She had watched them for a long time, both a guardian and a judge beneath the direction of her Lady, and the justice in her soul had long yearned to simply purge the city.  She had seen their viciousness, their hatred of their own flesh.  Had seen mother turn against daughter, brother murder brother, even father rape daughter.  Had seen crimes that had harrowed her soul, twisted abominations against nature that begged for holy retribution.<br/><br/><em>It will come.</em>she reassured herself softly as he made her fingers unclench<em>My Lady's patience will run out, and then . . .then, my dear Nephelim will the flames claim you</em>she told herself as she turned away from the vast vista.<br/><br/><em>And I will be there to watch you burn.</em>