What was it about mortals that made them special? Was it their looks? Thier personalities? The diversity in thier socially constructed cultures? Their ability to use a great part of that grey mass inside thier heads? The common man, as wise and intelligent as some claim to be, could answer and question in so many ways, yet how is it that they take for granted this one simple fact in thier every day lives, walking, sleeping, eating and drinking away their relatively short existence, rationalizing that everything they do are but of smaller pictures within one that covered the expanse of the globe as the larger?<br/><br/>To one who walked among them, perhaps to others who have similiar wisdom and long life, he had a very simple answer to that nagging question, one born and realized by living once and living once again, one made from 1000 years of renewed existence, one devised from watching humanity evolve from barbaric tribes, feudal systems and empirial civilizations into the greater transglobal epoch known commonly as the 'digital age', one that no other unique specie created by God could have.<br/><br/>To one who walked among them, he had an answer. He believed that mortals are special, because they have the power to judge, the power to control thier own fate by a single whim. It was what he loved so much about them, God's greatest creations. From the birth of Adam and Eve to the rising powers of humanity in this modern time, every mortal that breathed had that power, a power that only God had before the age of man, a power that changes the fate of history and time itself. Julius Caesar, Qin Shi Huang Di, Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan, Hannibal, Richard the Lionheart, Napolean Bonepart, Adolf Hitler. All these great names from all over the world influenced everything that has ever happened in history, shaped so many lives and cultures, all by the will of choice. All these great names were common men once, and they have all lived to thier greatest potential, for good or for worse, lived and died in many ways, in books, in articles, in life and in death.<br/><br/>It was amusing to think of such names for a thought such as this. He could vividly recall them all, burning, wretched, screaming, as they suffered their sins from the place of his rebirth. He had listened to thier stories and their confessions, past the sounds of the torture and the other poor souls who suffered with them, fascinated by thier judgements, thier choices, their changed fates. Word for word, he could recall them as clearly as he could recall how he died, how he was turned and how he relished his rebirth. Who knew that Richard had only thought of gold when he arrived at Jerusalem? Who knew that Napolean had forced himself on so many young defenceless maidens, both of the enemy's and his country's? Who knew that Hannibal attacked Rome not for the sake of pride, glory or country, but for the sake of a woman he could never have? World changing judgements, made by whims that no history book would ever believe.... It was this spontaneous behaviour that he found so interesting. It was this.... 'human urge' that made him what he was, and he was curious to see more, in not only the uncommon elite, but also the common peasant, curious to see what happens when he surfaces these urges into thier consciousness.<br/><br/>The results are normally very satisfactory. Some predictable, but satisfactory nonetheless..... If he found them too much to unliking, he could always weave a new urge here and there, and let them live with the consequence that they fostered for themselves.<br/><br/>As fascinated as he was to gain understanding in his visions, he was also disappointed. The humanity of today had changed, as he knew they would, but that one factor that got in the way of thier inner urges bothered him: thier sense of morality. God and his creations had originally created such beings to be pure and rule over them in a paradise apart from the one in Heaven, and as modern as this age is, mortals still lean towards the so called 'finer judgement', and leave behind their urges to follow a set of rules and boundaries made by a higher being they cannot even see, puppets of righteousness and grandeur of sanctity. Where was the freedom in such attachments? Where was the freedom of wills that gave them the most potential to grow as a whole? These rules, these 'chains' only binded them, and by following such rules only inhibit what they truly can be; mortals capable of making their own judgements instead of having their existence dictated to them.<br/><br/>This was why he disliked Heaven's intervention, thier virtues opposed to his sins. He believed that mortals can be so much more if they were not so tied up by such moral values. Thier open minds made them great, not the singular mind that purist morality led them to. With such opposition, this was why so many mortals who realize this custom made fact of 'good and evil' are so confused. That was what he believed: virtues only tie the comman man down, not help them....<br/><br/>Thoughts and revelations aside, there was factor that might change everything. This one woman, Rose-Marry Jones. She was a lovely young one, a mortal who seemed as ordinary as any, one who lived in the same state of taking much of her life for granted as everyone else, unbeknownsed to the much larger picture at work. The infernal Dukes and Princes say she was important and that her so called 'abilities' could finally end the balance in Hell's favor. As such, they had offered reward to buy his allegiance. Some new plots of infernal land, a number of souls and new retainers to his title as Baron. For all he knew, it was a simple con job, to hire the lesser ranks to do the dirty work, as he knew that such an edict was not like any other. When this was over, they would probably allow for him to lay claim on minimalistic portions, perhaps claim a common Succubus or Imp under his employ. They had such habits of promising so much with their wicked grins, thinking that they could get away with just about anything due to thier rank and power, predictable to the last of thier infernal kin.<br/><br/>Yet, something about this had him wondering. What would this mean to the world? How will she change it? What would be her judgement? He would probably only know once he met her.<br/><br/>Jeriah was his mortal name, and he had to say that he may have picked a disguise that was not appropriate for the job. This human form was well built and by the standard of the mortal ladies, he was blindingly 'handsome', 'wild' and 'dangerous'. It was not one that he would proudly wear, as he knew that posing as such a mortal man would bring about much unneeded attention, of which he would have to dispense of in a fashion that he would not like to portray while looking for his prey. Already he had 'politely' turned around the occasional group of misfits who decided to think that they did not like him very much, and within which, he had dispensed with some of thier depraved and frustrated lady friends. Didnt these men know how to handle thier women? They were practically rabid when he had them. Distractions, nonetheless. Satisfactory and amusing, but distractions that pulled him away from his goal.<br/><br/>Fortunately tonight, he had the privilage of dodging a group of friends he had infiltrated for his cover, claiming that he needed a walk. Of course, it was an excuse to make his way over to Rose's residence, happening to be closeby to where he was. Dressed in no more than a light weight black leather jacket, matching jeans and leather boots, he made his way down the street where she lived, looking for her house number. He knew where it was, after 'persuading' a certain lady lecturer at Rose's college to give him the information, along with many of her other details, inclusive of any contact numbers.