Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Esoteric Myobi on 20-11-2010, 20:12:14</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Esoteric Myobi</strong> on <strong>20-11-2010, 20:12:14</strong>
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				<div align="center">(http://img153.imageshack.us/img153/3585/smalldarkcity.jpg)</div><br><div align="center"><span style="font-size: 3.95em;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><strong>P</strong></span></span>urgatory. Limbo. Armageddon. The Twilight City. The City at the End of the World. <br><br>The city has many names, but to those who live here, it is Gilead.</div>&nbsp; <br><br>Life continues after death, if you can call it life at all...Gilead is populated by the souls of the dead, the shades of human beings who have already went through their allotted time and managed to shuffle off that mortal coil without, for whatever reason, choosing one side or the other.&nbsp; Maybe they lived a life of perfect balance, with equal amounts of virtue or vice.&nbsp; Maybe they left the Earth in infancy or early childhood.&nbsp; Maybe they were intellectually crippled, their brains underdeveloped so that they did not know right from wrong. No one really knows what causes a soul to wake up here - in the Gray City.<br><br>Gilead exists on no map, can be found on no atlas.&nbsp; Some speculate that it exists in another dimension entirely, the final stop on the train trip to Heaven--or Hell. There are no borders; it seems to exist in a closed pocket of space and time.&nbsp; Keep walking in one direction long enough, and you'll eventually arrive back where you started.<br><br>There seems to be no pattern, no congruent theme to the buildings.&nbsp; Look in any direction and you can see Asian architecture, South American, African, European, American.&nbsp; 19th-century locomotives share the same streets as 20th-century automobiles and 17th-century carriages.&nbsp; &nbsp;It's a huge mishmash of cultures, styles, and habits.<br><br>Some have theorized that everything they see--the buildings, the cars, the streets--aren't really necessary at all, but just products of a lifetime of habit and routine.&nbsp; When you've spent all your years as a soybean farmer, I guess it makes sense that you're going to see soybeans in the afterlife.&nbsp; <br><br>Oh, did I mention the angels and demons?&nbsp; Yeah, they're here too, fighting like vultures over battlefield scraps.&nbsp; This is the final arena, the last chance saloon, the lint trap of the great cosmic clothes dryer.&nbsp; We're the sad few who have fallen through the cracks, lost here until we end up as trophies for either the infernal or the divine.<br><br><br><div align="center">Welcome to Gilead.<br><br><br>*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;*&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;*</div><br><strong>- - - - - Notes - - - - -</strong><br><br>••• Only Nephilim who have become aware of their situation will be able to see the truth of their surroundings. For example, an unaware Nephilim can continue living the daily life of just another person swept up in the busy life of China. They won't notice the Eiffel Tower on the other side of the Great Wall of China. It is only when they become aware of their life after death that they will begin to note what would be considered 'out of the ordinary' - the existence of Angels and Demons included (and ultimately the Iurus Formator as well).<br><br>••• All Nephilim are starting out with a clean slate. Humanity is currently set at 'zero' and the amount of life left will be 100 minus [age at death]. For example, Clemenza Amichevole (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=88206.msg3908085#msg3908085) would only have 28 years of life left to bargain and use (100-72=28). The same will apply to all Nephilim despite some having been at Gilead (and being aware) for some time already.<br><br>••• The identities of who is an angel or who is a demon are not openly known until they themselves impart the information, or enough hints had been gathered to make a solid conclusion. The Seraphim/Prince and Arches will know of each other, however a Cherub and Infernal will be known exclusively by their own faction only. Revealing of identities will eventually take place throughout the game as characters interact. <br><br>••• The Iurus Formator knows all (who's in which faction, etc), however the game begins with only the Seraphim/Prince and Arches knowing her identity and role. Nephilim, Cherubs, and Infernals will find out along the way when they either seek her out, or she answers their call for a request to be fulfilled. The Iurus Formator also knows the amount of life/humanity each Nephilim holds at any time. When a Nephilim is close to losing their life/humanity, she will arrive with a small hint or perhaps even a warning. [A list will be posted every 3-4 weeks showing where each person currently stands.]<br><br>••• The Seraphim and Prince are able to know at all times where those of their own factions are currently located, as well as if any Mana has been incurred. If any one Cherub or Infernal is to gain three Mana, an Arch is sent with a warning. Upon reaching four, the Seraphim/Prince pay a personal visit. <br><br>••• Please abide by the simple Rules &amp; Regulations (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=89320.msg3908388#msg3908388). While it is encouraged, post length may not always be 4-5 paragraphs long, there will be times when posts are shorter. One-liners are absolutely <strong>not</strong> acceptable, you will receive one warning before being asked to leave the game if such posts are seen. <br><br>••• We ask that everyone start their posts with their character name, their current location, and a general synopsis of their current state or actions, that would greatly help organization and cut down on the amount of miscommunication.&nbsp; For example, <br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"> <strong>Nick Ramirez -- Downtown Bistro -- having lunch with Taya.</strong><br><br>- - - - - Rest of Post following - - - - -</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Remiel</strong> on <strong>21-11-2010, 00:39:37</strong>
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				Also, a quick addendum, if I may -- if everyone could start their posts with their character name, their current location, and a general synopsis of their current state or actions, that would greatly help organization and cut down on the amount of miscommunication.&nbsp; For example,<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote"><strong>Nick Ramirez -- Downtown Bistro -- having lunch with Taya</strong>.<br><br>And then the rest of the post. </blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br><br>Thanks!
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				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Remiel</strong> on <strong>21-11-2010, 02:51:12</strong>
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				<strong>Nick Ramirez -- Ambrosia Restaurant, Downtown -- Waiting for an old nemesis</strong><br><br>Nick Ramirez sat at his table, his cigarette burning slowly down to ash, his eyes turned upward toward the stormy grey sky.&nbsp; He had specifically requested the balcony, over the protests of the maitre d'.&nbsp; Not many customers ever wanted open-air seating--and who could blame them? The sky was always cloudy and bleak, like an overcast thunderhead right before the storm.&nbsp; Every so often, a piercing ray of sunlight would break through the dull smoky canopy, briefly illuminating a city block or two, and then it would be quickly swallowed up by the roiling clouds, only to poke through somewhere else.&nbsp; It was always like this in Gilead.&nbsp; Nick had always assumed it was just the Most High's not-so-subtle way of reminding its occupants that they lived on the virtual and literal border between Heaven and Hell.&nbsp; If ever there was a place that personified Purgatory, Gilead was it.<br><br>He wondered what went through the minds of the Nephilim, as they pointlessly stumbled through their day-to-day lives.&nbsp; Were they aware?&nbsp; Did they know?&nbsp; And if they did, did they care?&nbsp; It was a pale shadow of reality, a bleached and Gothic imitation of Earth.&nbsp; There was very little real beauty here -- such as there was, was greedily hoarded and kept secret.&nbsp; A rose in full bloom, a bird's song, a child's laugh--these things were more rare than gold, in Gilead, and valued accordingly.&nbsp; It was rumoured that there was even a black market, where the memory of love's first kiss could be purchased for a millionaire's ransom.&nbsp; &nbsp;And whenever he heard it, it always made Nick smile, for it was only half-true.&nbsp; Oh, the memory part was certainly legitimate enough, but the price was, in actuality, far, far more costly than mere money. <br><br>Nick put the rolled paper cylinder to his lips and inhaled deeply, then blew a jet of smoke at the sky.&nbsp; He gave the menu a quick glance -- it was entirely in French -- although that meant nothing, languages were no longer a barrier to communication.&nbsp; It was like Babylon all over again;&nbsp; everyone found, much to their initial amazement, that they could speak Farsi and Mongolian and Esperanto quite fluently.&nbsp; Just another little divine joke, he supposed.&nbsp; If the four thousand years of his exile in Gilead had taught him anything, it was that God had one hell of a twisted sense of humor indeed.<br><br>He was dressed exquisitely, in a late-twentieth century Italian suit, complete with ruby cufflinks and black silk tie.&nbsp; A little gaudy, perhaps, but then, it wasn't often that he did this.<br><br>For as long as he could remember, they had met here, or somewhere like here, one day every year, on neutral ground.&nbsp; Old adversaries, ancient monsters who had been playing the same chess game for millenia, again and again and again.&nbsp; &nbsp;Perhaps it was that they had been opponents for so long, he supposed, growing used to each other's tactics and habits for so much time, that they became something very like friends.&nbsp; It was odd relationship, but there it was.&nbsp; Immortal enemies, both tasked by their superiors to struggle in endless combat, until the very last soul could be claimed by either infernal or angelic forces.&nbsp; <br><br>"Etes vous prêt, monsieur? Voulez-vous commander?" said the head waiter, passing briefly by the table.<br><br>"Pas encore, merci," responded Nick, tapping his cigarette over an ashtray.&nbsp; The man nodded, and passed on his way.&nbsp; Nick paused, took a sip of his vintage 1878 Clos Vougeot, and smiled.&nbsp; He always looked forward to these meetings, however brief.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lady Kitsune</strong> on <strong>21-11-2010, 10:40:20</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i814.photobucket.com/albums/zz64/kumiho333/Pretty%20Gals/fanbingbing11.jpg)</div><div style="text-align: right;">________________________♥____ <strong><em><span style="font-family: papyrus;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Izuriel, the Lady Seraphim </span></span></em></strong></div><br><div style="text-align: right;">_______________♥____<em><strong><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">Location: </span></span></strong></em>The Ambrosia Restaurant in Downtown Gilead, A meeting with an old 'friend'.&nbsp; Hello, Nick.</div><br><br><br><br>Izuriel stood, shining and nude, an invisible beacon of light, atop what most would assume was the Eiffel Tower, or maybe it was the Space Needle in Seattle.&nbsp; No matter, she knew it for what it was.&nbsp; Human projected illusion given mass and form.&nbsp; Whatever.&nbsp; Purgatory had no true splendor.&nbsp; The wind took that moment to batter the length of her shimmering form, her soft gray feathers ruffling.&nbsp; The sun peeked from behind clouds as if in apology of the wind, bathing her in its warmth.&nbsp; She closed her eyes, the touch of the brilliant shaft that stroked her skin only brought her a deep sadness, laid over a bitter rage.&nbsp; Her eyes snapped open, her wings spread wide, the ebony tips a lustrous darkness.&nbsp; She was seraphim and she was beautiful in her true illuminating form, marred only by the cold onyx of her eyes.&nbsp; <br><div class="floatleft">(http://i814.photobucket.com/albums/zz64/kumiho333/Decorated%20images/normal_12533145881723804737.jpg)</div><br>She lifted her slender arms skyward in supplication, knowing it would go unanswered.&nbsp; The Host had orders to leave her be.&nbsp; She was on her own, cut off from Heaven until Armageddon had arrived.&nbsp; Her punishment.&nbsp; She laughed softly, the sound more beautiful than a choir of Cherubim.&nbsp; Why had they not let her Fall.&nbsp; Not that she wanted to, but this....this endless existence.&nbsp; It was interesting at first.&nbsp; Now it was monotonous.&nbsp; It was so boring, she actually looked forward to today.&nbsp; Why?&nbsp; Because at least it was something different.&nbsp; And yet, today was different as well.&nbsp; Something in the air, something approaching.&nbsp; A storm.&nbsp; No.&nbsp; It stormed in Gilead all the time.&nbsp; This was...something to rejoice.&nbsp; Then why was she so unhappy?<br><br>She tilted her face to the fading ray of light and tipped her body forward and fell.&nbsp; She wasn't Falling, but she was dropping at an increasing rate, the wind of her velocity, tearing at her hair and wings.&nbsp; She laughed and just before she needed to bank and land, she disappeared.&nbsp; She reappeared not too far away from where she should have landed.&nbsp; She walked forward down the little cobblestoned street, her dazzling light gone, her nubile body covered in a black fluttery wrapdress, her knee high boots hitting a beat against the stones of the road.&nbsp; An angel in black.&nbsp; How apropos.&nbsp; Well, this was Paris...today...to someone and black was the new black.&nbsp; One had to love Gilead....not.<br><br>Even if someone had been watching, they never would have known she was there, just a beautiful woman, in high fashion.&nbsp; Only her musical laughter echoing her passage was a marker that she had even been there.&nbsp; She reappeared on the balcony of the the restaurant, looking down and saw him sitting there looking dapper in his suit.&nbsp; Well, she had to hand it to Nick, he didn't hold back.&nbsp; She stepped forward into nothingness.<br><br>A slight breezed passed about the table and Izuriel appeared behind her Nemesis.&nbsp; She always found that word funny but they were what they were.&nbsp; Like a woman greeting her lover, she slipped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.&nbsp; "Hello, darling," she sang.&nbsp; <br><br>She patted his cheek and danced around him, to take the seat opposite.&nbsp; Crossing her legs, the dress's cut revealing more of her slender legs than was necessary.&nbsp; She only did it to see if it made him uncomfortable.&nbsp; So far...nothing.&nbsp; She knew he wasn't a monk, but really, he makes a girl try too hard.&nbsp; She rested her elbows on the table, her chin in her hands.&nbsp; Her smile was genuine but she never knew how these meetings were going to end.&nbsp; Some years were better than others.<br><br>"Nick, you really should quit smoking. It's bad for your health," she quipped, tossing her long dark over her shoulder.&nbsp; She had known him forever, even back when he was an Angel.&nbsp; How times have changed.&nbsp; It was a sad, sad thing.&nbsp; "Did you miss me?" 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Remiel</strong> on <strong>21-11-2010, 20:11:13</strong>
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				<strong>Nick Ramirez -- Ambrosia Restaurant, Downtown -- Having a perfectly civil dinner with Izuriel</strong><br><br>"Izzy," he smiled, and no one could smile like a demon.&nbsp; Perfect white teeth gleamed at her.&nbsp; "How can I miss you when we run into each other all the damn time?"<br><br>He smirked at her warning about smoking, but nevertheless, in deference to her wishes, removed the cylinder from his lips and snuffed it out.&nbsp; In deference to the fact that he was Nick Ramirez, however, he blew a last cloud of smoke directly into her face, the tobacco-laced cloud dissipating in her dress, in her hair.<br><br>Nevertheless, it wasn't a malign gesture, just a coy one.&nbsp; His beringed hand reached across the table to seek out hers.&nbsp; He found it interesting--and highly amusing--that, out of all the possible appearances, all the forms and features they could have selected, she had picked an Asian body, and he a Hispanic one.&nbsp; Was there something to that?&nbsp; Probably not.&nbsp; But then again, you never knew...<br><br>"I've always wondered why you were merely put on Probation while I and the others were banished to the lake of fire," he murmured, thoughtfully.&nbsp; "After all, we were part of the same host.&nbsp; Sent to the Earth to watch over His beloved men, to guard them and teach them.&nbsp; Ah, perhaps He has plans for you yet?&nbsp; The Ineffability of the Most High, and all that."<br><br>He smirked.&nbsp; "While I, and Samyaza, and the others were cast out of Heaven.&nbsp; And for what?&nbsp; Did He not say Himself that he loved these men, these creations of His?&nbsp; 'For God so loved the world,' and all that?&nbsp; And what did we do?&nbsp; What was our crime? We fell in love with them, too.&nbsp; I'm beginning to think that God is nothing but a jealous prick."<br><br>His eyes rolled skyward, just in case a bolt of vengeful lightning was going to spear out of the sky and strike him dead.&nbsp; When it did not, he smiled.<br><br>"But that is here nor there, Izzy.&nbsp; I asked you here to talk about a Truce."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kirinis</strong> on <strong>21-11-2010, 20:23:57</strong>
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				Saziel -- Streets of Downtown Gilead -- Wandering Amidst The Masses<br><br>Saziel walked slowly on the street admiring the myriad examples of architecture dotting the city.&nbsp; Each erected in a different style next to each other with very little sense for whether they were fit to be neighbors from an aesthetic viewpoint.&nbsp; Despite that, they each had their own beauty and merit that came from being created by a human mind and hand.&nbsp; The best place to admire them was from the street level in order to appreciate the entirety of a structure from the view of an human.&nbsp; He had tried to persuade his Sister to join him on his walks but she as always was fixated more on the sin of the people than the architecture or any other positive aspect.<br><br>Saziel sighed, Sister could be particularly intractable in that regard and he pitied her.&nbsp; There was much good in the world to be savored that it was senseless to be so focused on only the evil however minor it may be.&nbsp; But then again, that's what made Sister such an effective sword in the conflict.&nbsp; Uncompromising and focused, Vorianne was a terror to those who deserved the Lady's wrath.&nbsp; He envied her dedication at times, although her willingness for acceptable casualties was profoundly disturbing.<br><br>He shook his head, this was a time for himself. There would be more time later for that later.&nbsp; Saziel continued to walk down the street, although he was busy in admiring the architecture, his senses were still sharp and listening for a cry for assistance that inevitably happened when a Demon was on the move.&nbsp; All thought of his Sister were forgotten shortly afterward as he let himself get subsumed into the crowds.<br><br><em>Today is a fine day...</em>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>PeacethatPowerbrings</strong> on <strong>21-11-2010, 22:38:38</strong>
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				<strong>Karna -- Downtown Gilead -- Meeting New People</strong><br><br>Karna stood in a loney structure, a kind of office-building, not fully constructed, someone's idea of work, someone's constant realm of daily labour, stretching toward the sky without any real reason to desire to do so, it was someone's unending toil, with no reward. Karna, the silent towering figure standing, grey hood hanging down, perhaps she was looking down at the street, or perhaps not, it was impossible to tell, with nothing visible beneath her robe.<br><br>The bright, demonic woman, some fire beneath her smooth, bare, skin sat nearby, straddling the empty concrete windowframe, and looking down at the street below. Most of the people here, never saw them, for what they were. They were passed on the street, barely a second look, like so many others. Yet, there were those who saw what they were, saw everything, recognized the the reality of what was around them, stopped going to work perhaps?<br><br>The clattering of a toolbox inside the building caused the girl, the interpreter, to turn. The tall robed Karna didn't move, but the interpreter bolted. A man, running. A scream could be heard, and he careened into a wall, with a muted, 'huh' before hastily running down the stairs. Karna herself turned from the window and began to move, no sound from her footfalls, save the the small sort of crunching noise as the bottom of the haft of her scythe rolled against the concrete, used like walking staff by a skeletal hand.<br><br>The woman, the interpreter reached the stairs, barely pausing to jump downwards, turning sideways before even reaching the bottom, and coming to a sliding stop on all fours before breaking into a run again, standing up after a moment. The man was well in shape, running as though his life depended on it, past bewildered, confused fellow workers, who it seemed, were incapable of comprehending the strangeness of the chase, turning back to their work.<br><br>The man crashed past plastic sheeting, stumbling briefly, but continuing strong, soon passing through an incomplete wall into a similarly incomplete building, though this one was distinctly modern, metal and glass adorning its walls, marble floors, and high ceilings.<br><br>He tripped then, not ready for the transition to the terraced open central atrium of the more modern structure. Tumbling down a glass-sided staircase, he came to a stop on the landing mid-way down. The interpreter not far behind, came to a sudden stop, her hands coming to rest on either rail at the top of the staircase. There was a brief moment of silence, just long enough for the man to regain his composure, and begin to scramble back toward the bottom of the staircase. Just then, before he could even get to his feet, a crash and heavy crack echoed through the place, the grey robed Karna coming to a sudden stop, still standing at the bottom of the Atrium. The opening of the hood turned toward him. He barely had a moment to look up to where she must've fallen from, before an unceremonious foot to his back sent him tumbling down to Karna's feet, still more screams sounding out in the nearly empty building. She descended the stairs behind him slowly, like someone about to accept an award.<br><br>"Nice to meet you," she said sliding down to sit on the bottom step.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Writersblockade</strong> on <strong>22-11-2010, 01:47:55</strong>
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				<strong>Edward Riley -- Home, then work (Downtown Gilead) -- Is this what going crazy feels like?</strong><br><br>Hot. Bright. Incredibly dry. Those were just a few sensations he was currently caught in. He could not move, save for a move that had already occurred. Could not speak, but heard his voice utter numbers in code. The sound of a heavy motor and music could be heard, and for some reason he couldn’t shake the feeling of boredom laced with deep foreboding. The chop of a helicopter sounded overhead and he knew without looking that it was the Apache they were using for air support. Apache? Like in Indians? What the hell…?<br><br>The scene changes. He’s holding an assault rifle and checking windows for ambush. He’s been here before. Too often. He knows he has about a minute. Before everything turns horribly wrong. Knows that Parker is going to tell Thomas one last corny joke before the explosion slams into their group, and then it happens. The force carried him right into a building, where he promptly bounced, and then rolled to a stop on his back. The last view of the world of color was blue sky laced with blood and smoke.<br><br>He then awoke with a start, sitting straight up and staring as hands unseen in the dark. “Fuck…” he muttered as he reached for the glass of water by his bed. He kept one near his bed every night since the dreams had started. He felt so damn thirsty afterwards, and the water was the first step to bringing himself back to whatever peace he could find. The glass was finished with neither a thought nor a recollection of how it felt going down. He found himself at his window without really knowing how he got there. Life felt…bland. Even blander if one could imagine. <br><br>He couldn’t properly finger the feeling. Every since his dream, the world has been doing weird things. He went out for a walk at work and went past a noodle stand in full service, where lines of people were shouting out orders in what sounded like Japanese. By time he looked back, there was just a hot-dog vender seeing his wares to the people. Stuff like that was starting to happen more and more, to the point where he was really wondering if he was going crazy. He’d never held a gun, for as long as he could remember, and he was having a dream of himself holding one, and in combat gear no less! Who does that?<br><br>“Crazy people…that’s who…” he muttered as he looked over the street from his apartment. The clock read six in the morning. He padded for the bathroom to shower, and by eight o’clock on the button found himself at work. Another strange thing happened when the dreams started. The people he knew and worked with started becoming less…real. Everything, from their trials and crises, to their tales of conquest and heartbreak, felt completely and utterly unreal to him. He found himself drifting during meetings, not doing his job…he really felt he was going to have to see someone. <em>’My head’s going to explode if I don’t get this under control’</em> he thought as he sat at his desk. <br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>twistedlace</strong> on <strong>22-11-2010, 02:47:14</strong>
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				<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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; An arch angel is the service of her Lady, the divine Izuriel, she felt naked without the weapon, despite her fully clothed form.&nbsp; The dark grey trenchcoat she wore fluttered in the wind, the hood cast back, over the lighter grey vest and khaki's beneath.&nbsp; 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.&nbsp; She had seen their viciousness, their hatred of their own flesh.&nbsp; Had seen mother turn against daughter, brother murder brother, even father rape daughter.&nbsp; 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>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>22-11-2010, 20:13:09</strong>
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				<strong>Katrina&nbsp; -- Downtown Apartment -- Walking through Nightmares</strong><br><br>A sun bathed chipped ivory statue sat alone in the middle of a park. The dead grass and busy city surrounding her were all different shades of grey, hope and life and any traces gone from the color, but the statue was different. Brilliantly lit up, its firm yet gentle markings meant nothing to Katrina but she was drawn towards it. Slowly, her every step cautious, Katrina moved away from the depressing grey and towards the brilliant yellow and shining white statue. Its light coming from nowhere in particular, but her pace quickened as the light dulled, its surface slowly stained to a darker grey. As she entered a full sprint and finally reach the statue, her vision was flooded by darkness, a creeping, moving darkness that slowly unveiled a similar darkness; but there was light. Everything around it was basked in a dull, dark blue hue that she didn't understand but knew very well.<br><br>Katrina knew what this was, the last moments of her life. She could see the dark figure of a helicopter, slowly sinking, and the lights inside slowly going dark. The entire scene was dark, a night sky above and the darkness of the sea surrounding her, but even so, it was incredibly dark. Like she couldn't see anything except what she was supposed to see, Katrina knew she was dreaming, the unnatural dark haze her dreams had always been so obvious but a clouded part of the dream always eluded her. She was missing something in this dream, something she wasn't seeing, but it always somehow avoided her. She'd seen this dream a million times and it never changed, but it was never the same. As the wreckage before her, slowly sank, moments from its end, it exploded in a muffled fireball, sending charred pieces splintering in every direction, a large piece of the main cabin flying straight towards Katinra, before her world again washed over with darkness and she awoke. Startled and covered in sweat, the downright smothering feeling of her room forced her mind into consciousness.<br><br>Her eyes shot open, greeted by the clouded numbers on her alarm clock. A tired, exasperated sigh escaped Katrina's lips as she rolled over onto her back and stuck out her arm, her hand waving around and smacking the bedside table surface, searching blindly for the snooze button. Katrina rolled a little more to her side and yanked the covers up, exposing her feet. A weary frown spreads across her face as Katrina sits up and shoots her gaze over to her alarm clock, leaning over to press the sleep button much easier than her mind wanted her to. She was not excited about getting up and going about today, but she none the less had work to do and didn't want to go back to sleep. Her days seemed more atune to separating her dreams from one another, and the constant plague in the back of her mind was doing a lot of harm. A rousing idea formed in her mind, maybe getting up and walking around the city for the day. Things were strange, she was seeing things that sometimes weren't there, buildings changed locations and people.... people were the worst. They changed some days, and stayed the same for some, but always something was different about her day. Just like her dreams.<br><br>As she slid out of bed, Katrina remembered her dream, it was hazy but there. The memory, or the one she couldn't quite form, was driving her mad. It was connected to her dreaming, she knew it, but couldn't simply demand her mind to complete it. It was as if a puzzle she'd been working on for months needed one piece, and she couldn't find it. And the entire puzzle rested on that one piece, it was the center of her entire world. That was how her head constantly felt, and for that simple reason, Katrina knew she needed to get on with her day and go to work. After waking herself up and cleaning up, getting dressed and heading out, Katrina felt a little better but still hated stepping out her front door, because across the street, was an old, old wood and brick home that never changed. Its door was open every day, while sometimes the buildings around it changed. The door was always open, but Katrina was too scared to go in. She didn't want to know, or maybe she already did, and didn't want to know again.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Starlequin</strong> on <strong>23-11-2010, 01:28:17</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Samantha Cole -- Mercy View Hospital, Parktown Avenue, 1:00 AM -- On Call</strong><br><br>"Hey Sam, looks like you and Jerry are in for another quiet night," Tony said as he stuffed his gear back into his bag and hefted it over his shoulder. Sam nodded and gave a weak smile. "Here's hoping." She watched as the older man turned and headed for the side exit of the EMT station, his sizable paunch leading the way under his sweat-stained shirt as usual, and leaned back on the beat-up lounge sofa. With its sagging cushions, moth-eaten upholstery and the stack of phone books tucked underneath to replace the missing left front leg, it was almost exactly the same as the one she remembered.<br><br>Almost.<br><br><em>'Faded. Why is it so faded?'</em> She wondered, a splinter rubbing raw in the back of her mind. And below that, another question. A worse one. <em>'Why does it bother me so much?'</em><br><br>Six months she'd been asking herself that question, not just about the sofa but about everything. Something was wrong with the world, something important. Something subtle, unnoticeable. Something huge. Everything was...<em>less</em>, somehow, from the taste of breakfast to the feel of sunlight to the color of blood on the ground at an accident site. It was as if reality had decided to quit, and was just plugging along until its two weeks' notice was up.<br><br>She thought about the look on Tony's face as he'd left. He'd been smiling--sort of. Like he wanted to, but he couldn't recall exactly how to do it. Others had been just the same. Expressions were half-hearted, laughter felt like it was being piped in from somewhere far distant, tears barely left tracks down their owners' faces. And it was happening to her, too. For the last few months, Samantha had noticed it not just in others, but in herself as well, this growing sense of apathy, and it disturbed her greatly. Or it would have, except it didn't. Nothing disturbed her, really. Not even the hazy memory of that boy that used to hang around with her all the time. Weren't they close, once? Wasn't he important? She dimly remembered feelings of panic and deep distress, when she woke up one morning and he wasn't around. Vanished, even, gone without a trace.<br><br>Samantha had cried that day, and for days afterward. Gut-wrenching, body-wracking sobs that left her exhausted in the way that only genuine hysterics can do. But that had been months ago, and life had seemed to return to normal. Sam couldn't remember now why she was so upset, couldn't even remember his name. She hadn't cried a bit since then. Hadn't felt strongly about anything at all, in fact, and that was the problem. <br><br>She had responded with Jerry to the scene of a horrific traffic accident just a couple nights ago and had come upon the body of a small girl, perhaps eight or ten years old, broken and mangled, covered in the gore of what used to be her parents, and barely breathing. She had looked that little girl right in the eyes as she breathed her last, and had felt only a vague notion of disappointment. And the tiny voice in the bottom of her thoughts kept screaming.<br><br>As she pondered her situation with all the meager intensity she could muster, Jerry Mason walked in and chucked his gear on the floor near the coffee table. He plopped down in his favorite spot, a patched and thread-bare recliner that he'd brought from home that sat directly in front of the office's small flat screen television, and pulled a small paperback from his back pocket. "Well Cole, here we are. Alone again. Maybe we'll get lucky and it'll stay that way," Jerry said casually, briefly glancing at her before burying his nose in the pages.<br><br>"What? Oh yeah, yeah," Sam replied, only slightly annoyed at the distraction. As always, Jerry was engrossed in his own world that he probably didn't even hear her answer. Samantha shifted on the couch and stared directly at him. She'd never noticed before how focused he was when he read; it made her wonder if maybe her problem really was just in her head after all. Then she looked at his eyes, and she almost quit breathing.<br><br>His eyes weren't moving. Jerry was staring at the pages, long enough to make it look like he was reading, and turning the pages at what seemed like a normal reading speed. But his eyes weren't moving like they should have been, weren't tracking the words at all. So. It wasn't just her. It was Jerry, too. And Tony. And...and, everyone. Everything,<br><br>What the hell was going on?<br><br>Samantha's train of thought was broken again, this time by the crackling static of the radio intercom. <strong>"EMTs be advised, have a possible 4-29 at 342 Jefferson Blvd., Apartment 4, elderly female complaining of severe chest pains requesting an ambulance, over."</strong> Immediately Sam and Jerry were on their feet and moving toward the garage, keys jangling from Sam's belt. At first Sam was content to simply let training take over as they climbed into the ambulance, but that little voice was just loud enough this time.<br><em><br>'No! Not this time. Pay attention, Sam. Something is going on around here, and I'm going to find out what it is if it's the last thing I do...'</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>minerva7790</strong> on <strong>23-11-2010, 10:34:04</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Tiffania -- on the rooftop of J Cooperations -- watching the world go by</strong><br><br>Tiffa was perched on her favourite spot in all of Gilead: the office building of J Cooperations. Here, she had a good view of the world around her, the perfect eyesight of an angel allowing her to focus on the faces of individuals that interested her. She was content to lounge up here for hours, watching both sunrise and sunset, and sunrise again. It sure beat being in that bakery, where all there was to look at, was bread, bread, and more bread.<br><br>It was a full moon night, and the chill winds made it a perfect night out. Below her, Tiffa saw the lights of a millions of cars, travelling to unknown destinations. Tiffa pitied these Nephilim and their mundane lives. Not like the life of the Cherub was any more interesting anyway, but at least it was better than she had expected as an innocent young girl in life. No harps playing, no singing of 'holy, holy' all day, and certainly no streets of gold. At least she still had wings.<br><br>Tiffa yawned loudly, in a most un-angelic fashion. It wasn't like there was anyone to hear her anyway. It was a perfect night out, as she had noted earlier, but she supposed it could be made better with some company. Stretching her wings, she lept from the building and soared down onto the street. She briefly wondered where Izuriel, the Lady Seraphim, and her two sidekicks were tonight, but that didn't matter to her. They minded their own business, and she, hers. <br><br>No plans for tonight. Tiffa would just go where her feet took her, and do whatever there was to do there. Tiffa pulled her top hat lower over her face and, with a sly smile, strode forward to blend into the busy crowd.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Drake Valentine</strong> on <strong>23-11-2010, 18:55:36</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v222/Morkael/Ruki/CockroachRukiedit-1.jpg)<span style="font-family: Freestyle Script;" class="bbc_font"><strong><span style="font-size: 2.65em;" class="bbc_size">Shenovi Katsakachi</span></strong></span><br><br><span style="font-family: freestyle script;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 1.45em;" class="bbc_size"><strong>Location:</strong></span></span> Gilead Memorable Park - <em>Tea Party</em><br><br><br>Ah, good old Gilead Park, Shenovi had many fond memories of such a ruined place. Sure, there were plenty of broken benches, vandalized monuments, toppled over trashcans, and a broken down playground and other sports courts around the area. It had everything anyone may ever dreamed of, that is, if there were out looking to shank someone or be a victim themselves.&nbsp; Daytime, nighttime, it didn’t matter, the park never really lost its glamour, its splendor, its foreboding presence and dangerous welcoming. It was this very place that the demon spent many of years tormenting those that may seek to do him harm, today was no exception to the madness.<br><br>There was a putrid scent of bloodshed in the air and the faint aroma of death. Who knew how long one of the bodies had been hanging, the victim appearing to still be alive, screaming, though it was hard to tell from what exactly. Could it been the perfected cuts along the abdomen, the intentional missing of vitals and even avoiding of ripping too deep in the flesh to prevent fatal blood loss? That man’s body was raked with slashes of what appeared to be that of nails, shirt ripped, clinging to flesh, but not stopping the bleeding. Still those screams went on, maybe they were from what was binding that victim to the railing of a swing set. The intestines of one of that man’s comrades, twined around the ankles, keeping the poor fool held steady while his empty companion swung on the swing set at his side. Squeak, squeak, the rusty bars of the swing echoed, but probably never heard, completely ignored by the panic cries of that mangled man’s.<br><br>There were other bodies as well, two more besides the corpse on the swingset and the live one dangling with his head almost touching the sandy ground. One of them were upon the ground before a stone table in the middle of the park, used as a bench for one’s feet now. Ebony shoes could be seen perched over the spine of the lifeless corpse, and if one looked further up they would find the crimson wear of the culprit at play. Shenovi, despite his doings, he was perfectly calmed and content about the scenery at play. The way he sat, the way he dressed, compared to all the rift raft around him, he may just as well come off as a splendid dashing ‘noble’ standing victorious over a gang of thugs. Though in essence, this wasn’t close to the case, the ones at fault of this were fellow demons, which made it all the more entertaining to the male whom leisurely poured himself a cup of tea.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br><div class="floatright">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v222/Morkael/Ruki/SittingRuki2-1-1.jpg)</div><br>He did have company, a nice party to join him, unfortunately two of them were currently dead and the other two were tied up. The fourth culprit sitting off to the side of Shenovi, bound in something less grotesque, but still not all appealing. The half naked man wriggling about from the snare of cloth along his wrists and also tied to the partial broken chair behind. Sure, in due time the demon was positive his prey may escape, but for now the victim was to accompany him in his tea party. It was a kudos for being the only one not to attack him. <br><br>“You sick mother fucker, let me go!” The poor male squealed out, obviously scared, which to Shenovi was rather flattering. Good, fellow demons knew fear as well, they should, and that poor creature had every right to be terrified. Shenovi was insane, completely out of his mind, but then again this was evident by the way he dressed and casually acted, as if nothing that had transacted here was a big deal. A cup of tea being set aside from the man, where the doll lingered at the table. In one line of perspective, it creepily went along with Shenovi, the poor thing missing one of its eye buttons and its clothing needing to be redone fashionably as well. <strong>”Yes, I know you want to kill him, but we can’t do that now, can we?”</strong> The silence being broken by Shenovi as his attention went from the bickering man and to his inanimate fun sized companion.&nbsp; &nbsp;<strong>”You’re right, we should pour him a glass too.”</strong><br><br>More profanities thrown about, still Shenovi didn’t aggressively act out on his bound prey, ignoring the man for the time being as he went about to pour another cup of tea. This one, however, being toppled over and hotly spilled into that man’s lap. More obscurities, screaming and shouting like a banshee now. <strong>”So dreadfully sorry I am.”</strong> Again, Shenovi was perfectly content, his tone almost seeming earnest. Almost as if he genuinely cared, but he didn’t. This was something he has practiced in as well, another side of him, merely toying with his prey as usual. <strong>”But your language is offending our guest, so I will have you be quiet for the time being.”</strong> He went on as he reached into the pocket of his crimson trench, removing a handkerchief from it, only to use it to gag and silence his would be, former attacker with the cloth. There were still muffled ‘mmfs’ and curses that Shenovi could vaguely make out, but alas it was peaceful. Shenovi’s pink eyes closed as he recollected his thoughts, the party still missed various elements. There was no cake, there were only a few live guests, at this rate it may just boil back down to Shenovi and his doll. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Esoteric Myobi</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 02:19:58</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/01/Taya.jpg)</div><div style="text-align: right;">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/23/Stamp.gif) <span style="font-family: pristina;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 25pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>T</strong>aya, the <strong>I</strong>urus <strong>F</strong>ormator</span></span> (http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/23/Stamp.gif)</div><div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Currently:</strong> Upper East Side "New York", Serendipity III...<em>Mmm, ice cream...</em></div><br><sup><em>Continued from The Haunt (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=89959.msg3934739#msg3934739)...</em></sup><br><div class="floatleft">(http://blog.hungrycu.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/11/serendipity.JPG)</div>...landing with a light clack of heels as booted feet hit cement sidewalks. The profound silence of before no longer pressed comfortably around her, instead replaced by the beeping of horns, angry and impatient shouts, the occasional curse. Someone bumped into her as they hurried to their next destination. <br><br>Manhattan, or the compiled memory of it anyway. The hum of souls buzzed in her mind, like small flames that danced on the edge of her consciousness. Two burned brightest at all times, their energy evident no matter where in Gilead she was at. Perhaps she would pay the Two a visit later on, though not now. No, it was rude to intrude upon a tryst. <br><br>Two others, like a steady flame instead of the piercing energies from the previous pair. Another steady flame lingered as well, though not with the warm glow of the others. Darker, and...oddly split. One, all alone, a soft glow exuding that now familiar warmth of goodness. <br><br>She stretched again, was bumped into again, not an uncommon occurrence. While Gilead was inhabited by thousands of Nephilim, some never 'woke' and eventually they drifted off altogether, becoming one of the many lost souls lingering about the Haunt. Instead, they continued their 'lives' blindly, doing without actually seeing.<br><div class="floatright">(http://cdn.most-expensive.net/wp-content/uploads/2006/12/expensive-ice-cream-sundae.jpg)</div><br>Stepping through the doors of Serendipity III, the woman emerged a few minutes later with a crystal goblet in one hand, 18K gold spoon in another and a wide grin on her lips. Dipping the spoon into what was lauded as the "richest Tahitian vanilla bean ice cream infused with Madagascar vanilla," she let the decadent mouthful melt on her tongue. Looking thoughtfully at the spoon, she shrugged and took another bite. "So this is what the 'World's Most Expensive Ice Cream Sundae' tastes like hrm?" Mumbling past the spoon, she bit down on the gold, hard enough to leave tiny imprints of teeth. "Not what I expected."<br><br>Three sparks. She felt them. Like tiny pinpoints of light that were struggling against the overwhelming tide called Gilead. New Nephilim, vibrant life still clung to them but would soon fade to gray as with everything else. Perhaps they would meet. The question was, what would they meet <em>as</em>? <br><br>But it was another presence that finally caught her attention. One that continually lingered at the back of her mind no matter how far away she was. <br><br>Another bite, another step...<br><div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Currently:</strong> Gilead Memorable Park...<em>Tea Party...?</em></div><br><br>...and the smell of sharp iron greeted her before her eyes opened to take in the gory scene. The swing set, rusted, broken, squeaking timidly, and now coated with blood. The edges of the thick liquid was already drying, browning from oxidization. Idly, she wondered how long the bodies had been there. Time was a tricky game in Gilead, some may even say that time stood still. A world that the inhabitants 'played' on in a futile effort to escape. <br><br>Her eyebrows raised at the sight of one unfortunate demon's intestines now serving as binding for the other. "I see you've been decorating the park again." The comment was dry and held more than a little bit of sarcasm. Ah, sarcasm, how she'd grown to love it. Even when unintended her words seemed laced with insincerity at times - was this a habit that all those residing in Gilead picked up? Grey eyes the same color as the clouds bearing down above them, forever holding a threat of rain and thunder, glanced thoughtfully at the stone table. A tea set had been laid out and from the looks of it, fresh, scalding hot tea was being served. <br><br>"A tea party without cake?" Seating herself next to the doll and across from the crimson-clad Infernal, she set the sundae down before picking at one of the delicate gold leaves. Twirling the edible piece in her fingers, the dreary lighting seemed to dim the brilliance of the leaf's shine. "It's amazing, don't you think? They got all the little details in. I wonder how long it took to make this?" She didn't expect an answer, she never did. As odd as it was, there were times when she wanted to actually speak to another besides just listening to her own voice. They may not be the best of companions, but companions they were. Despite not being able to trust him, he was also the only one she could count on when needed...or could she? Heh, how pathetic was that?<br><br>Her fingers pressed down, exerting light pressure only to be met with cracks as the piece quickly crumbled and fell onto the stone table. "Yet it disappears in a split second." Ruined. Was it truly worth it? She pondered the question for the hundredth time as she nibbled thoughtlessly on one of the broken pieces. The sundae sat in the middle of the makeshift dining table, ice cream slowly melting next to the heat of the teapot. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Writersblockade</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 04:38:08</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Edward Riley - Work (Peerless Paper, Inc.) - Downtown Gilead</strong><br><br>Hours, for some reason, didn’t drone on for him these days. He felt like snatches of his life were being edited for content. He barely remembered the meeting that went over the sales numbers for November, along with the first projected numbers for the Christmas bonuses. Didn’t remember the meeting, but remembered the numbers, as if someone had gone through the trouble of keeping only what he needed <em>’And why not? It’s all bullshit’</em> he thought oddly. It’s what? Ed shifted his eyes around to get a look at the others…just to make sure no one was really talking to him. <br><br>Maybe it was the job? Maybe trying to outperform was starting to get to him. That was funny…pressure hadn’t bothered him before. No…this was something else. He felt like he was witnessing something…something he couldn’t see <em>’or maybe you don’t want to see…’</em> he thought again. Knowing now that the sound was in his head, he knew he needed a break. He needed to hit the head…restroom. When he stepped inside, he found it empty and quickly locked the door. Water flowed across his hands before he used some of it to pat his face. He stared at the mirror and doused his face again generously in water before he blindly reached for a paper towel.<br><br>After drying his face, he opened his eyes to see himself staring back at him, except it was the way he looked in the dream. Grimy, determined, with a fire in his eyes he would have never thought possible. Ed stutter-stepped back sharply and managed to muffle the ‘holy shit’ he was about to scream out, though just barely. The man stared at him…he stared at himself, almost as if he were disappointed. Then he answered his question before he could ask, and simply stated “I am not a figment of your imagination…you are a figment of mine.”. He then stared to make sure the point was made, before he walked away from the mirror.<br><br>With a shake of his head, Edward once again saw himself normally…the words remained with him even after escaping the restroom, and he took off a few hours early to walk the streets of Gilead. Suddenly he was running short on answers, and the questions were too difficult to ask. Simply too difficult to face.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Talk2meguy</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 06:02:44</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Andre - Downtown Gilead&nbsp; - Leaving Work</strong><br><br>It had been the same as every other day, they took his picture and remarked at how well he was keeping himself and then he got paid. The jobs always seemed to be the same or similar and there was no real artistic vision from the photographs. Like the rest of the world around him they seemed to lack any real life. At first he had thought it was him, that he didn't feel the same about life since he had changed his ways but quitting ad been easy, too easy it seemed. His simple desire to stop with drugs made it happen. That wasn't how it generally worked and it wasn't until later that he found out what had really happened. <br><br>Andre knew that he was no longer alive but kept in some type of purgatory. Why and for how long he could only guess. It wasn't as though he had been given any type of rule book or explanation. It took Andre a long time to figure it out but when he did he remember instantly how he had died.&nbsp; What he was supposed to do here the model had no idea so he lived his day to day life bored by it. <br><br>Pulling the collar of his long jacket up he made his way down the streets with his head down his long rich brown hair falling in front of his face as he walked. Though the sun was out he wore the jacket, being where they were he wasn't the only one doing so. Other people wore jackets, some short sleeves it was all up to the person in what they wanted to wear. Andre hated the cold with a passion so he always dressed in some type of layers and generally had his jacket with him. Not always the same one but at least a thin one in case there was a wind. <br><br>Andre stopped at a hot-dog vendor and waited in a line with several uninteresting people. They all looked like they were going through the motions but there was no <em>real</em> fun at all to be had.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>25-11-2010, 17:19:09</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Clemenza Amichevole – Gilead Confectioner – How sweet it is?</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://images.starpulse.com/Photos/Previews/Untouchables-movie-p10.jpg)</div><br><em>Zip-a-dee-doo-dah!&nbsp; Zip-a-dee-yay!&nbsp; My oh my what a wonderful day!</em>&nbsp; The robust Italian, broad-shouldered and beaming, dressed in the attire of a gentleman, whistled whilst he trundled along with pep in his step, elan in his flan, and verve in his swerve.&nbsp; His indomitable optimism, buoyed by boyish bravery and unflinchingly infectious frivolity, anchored itself to an inimitable smile as he angled the city.&nbsp; Broadly cast was the broadcast of Clemenza Amichevole, Angler Extraordinaire!&nbsp; The sun shone brightly from its perch in the sky like a brilliant, flaming bird.&nbsp; It pecked with percussive repetition, hammering that thunderous, thudding succession into the wood of the world.&nbsp; Woody wouldn’t know now would he?&nbsp; That woodpecker’s light of optimistic life pervaded every porous membrane and fiber of the firmament.&nbsp; Clem gazed aloft, agape with wonder and rueful appreciation, at the comet-chasing canopy.&nbsp; Each adulterous ray of light, an unerring bullet fired from Heaven’s gun, into the bounding mane mundane.&nbsp; The broad-shouldered cloth could see it all as if in slow motion.&nbsp; They were blazing projectiles that trailed wispy comet-tailed twine as they slogged through a gelatinous sea of viscous-reality.&nbsp; The sun’s love lasted only in lingering permutations of explosive photo-shrapnel.&nbsp; God still had his sense of humor so why shouldn’t he?<br><br>One foot ahead of the next.&nbsp; Each foot in time.&nbsp; Practiced rhythm.&nbsp; Easy locomotion.&nbsp; His vintage ‘40s suit, a motley of tweeds and plaids, played like a playground of frolicking children upon his significant stature.&nbsp; The swansdown embraced his person with the warmth of a mother’s hug; it insulated him against autumn’s blustery buffets and winter’s inevitable advance.&nbsp; One foot ahead of the next.&nbsp; Each foot in time.&nbsp; Walking was chicken soup for the old man’s soul.&nbsp; An act so simple…so trivial, for most of our lives, is akin to a lifelong friend.&nbsp; As if his gait could be more personal a companion than any other Clem cherished his stride for it ferried him to his destination with only minimal&nbsp; complaint.&nbsp; Each exaggerated movement was ponderous and deliberate.&nbsp; Who was in a rush?&nbsp; Not he.&nbsp; <em>You can’t hurry love.</em><br><br>Before him appeared the confectionary’s door as if by some unseen, magical hand that colored his palate with a gourmand’s gilded gluttony.&nbsp; <em>No, you just have to wait.</em>&nbsp; The guiding hand of appetite escorted him on an angel’s wings right up and into El Dorado.&nbsp; This fabled city was lined wall-to-wall and floor-to-ceiling with Hershey’s, Reese’s, Mars, Snicker’s, Baby Ruth, Bazooka, Dubble Bubble, Jelly Bellies, Gobstoppers, Jawbreakers, Fun Dip, Tootsie Rolls, Krackel, Mr. Goodbar, Good and Plenty, Mike and Ike, Junior Mints, Whoppers, Goobers, Wax Lips, Zagnuts, BB Bats, Wax Bottles, Sky Bars, Candy Cigarettes, Kits, Kit Kats, Licorice (black and red), Skittles, Mary Jane, Sugar Daddy, Laffy Taffy, salt water taffy, fresh, homemade fudge and ice cream and soda pop in every flavor imaginable.&nbsp; When the first scents of sweets assailed his olfactory with sugary delight he lost all awareness and spelunked the confectionary coma.&nbsp; <em>I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in.</em>&nbsp; The large Italian’s dark eyes rolled into the back of his head while his eyelids fluttered.&nbsp; His taste buds flooded their cavernous home with a preemptive salvo of saliva.&nbsp; Clem’s head swiveled on a marrionette’s strings while his body danced to the cloyingly sweet rhythm of the moppet master.&nbsp; Candy Mountain was a land of sweets and joy …and joyness…and Clem tiptoed through the tulips while painting the roses red!<br><br>Details escaped him.&nbsp; Who worked behind the counter?&nbsp; How long had the store been here?&nbsp; What had he purchased last week?&nbsp; Where were all the children?&nbsp; Why was he ever the only person here?&nbsp; He wandered down the inquisitive path at least once a week until, tuckered, he sank his teeth into another forgetful bite of Lethe; the chocolate-covered candy of forgetfulness had wormed its way into his Willy Wonka wonderland.&nbsp; All Clemenza Amichevole needed was the golden ticket.<br><br><em>Something is rotten in the state of Candy Mountain.</em>&nbsp; It niggled at the substantial man, like a shadow hinting just beyond the edges of his peripheral vision, in the recesses of his mind’s eyes.&nbsp; Was the candy not as sweet?&nbsp; Were the dopamine receptor sites not as open?&nbsp; What about the oxytocin?&nbsp; Was he finally becoming insulin resistant?&nbsp; Had they changed something in the recipe?&nbsp; Was the man…or woman behind the counter a little less friendly to him?&nbsp; Clem forded the Rocky Road river and swam with heady delight while prickling and bristling at the splinter in his mind.&nbsp; He couldn’t quite put his pudgy finger on it but he knew something was out of place.&nbsp; In fact, something had been out of place for a long time.&nbsp; Wait.&nbsp; Hadn’t it?&nbsp; Hadn’t he had these very same thoughts before?&nbsp; Hadn’t he traveled down this slippery slope stream of consciousness into derailed trains of thought?&nbsp; <em>Only for a moment then the moment’s gone…</em>&nbsp; <br><br>Ignorance truly could be bliss.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lady Kitsune</strong> on <strong>26-11-2010, 06:40:05</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i814.photobucket.com/albums/zz64/kumiho333/Pretty%20Gals/fanbingbing11.jpg)</div><div style="text-align: right;">________________________♥____ <strong><em><span style="font-family: papyrus;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Izuriel, the Lady Seraphim</span></span></em></strong></div><br><div style="text-align: right;">_______________♥____<em><strong><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">Location:</span></span>Ambrosia's with dear Nick</strong></em></div><br><br>The acrid curls of smoke rushed at her face, curling around her.&nbsp; She scrunched her nose at him, her hand waving away cloud.&nbsp; It didn't bother her.&nbsp; Maybe at one time it would have.&nbsp; She would have maybe rushed him from across the table and began a brawl of epic proportions.&nbsp; Instead she smiled.&nbsp; What else was there to do.&nbsp; The petty no longer bothered her.&nbsp; It just told her they had been at this too long.&nbsp; She looked down, surprised that his hand was touching hers, and raised a feathery brow, her eyes searching the handsome features of his Latin face.&nbsp; It was a nice face.&nbsp; She looked back down at his hand as if his question filled her with guilt, or as close to guilt as she could feel.<br><br>"Aza...Nick.&nbsp; Don't think that because I am still an Angel, that it has been good for me.&nbsp; I was an Angel of Love.&nbsp; My job was to nurture the humans in there needs.&nbsp; I took it too far and I still will.&nbsp; But...they punished me in the worst way.&nbsp; I'm used to it now.&nbsp; I think I may even like it.&nbsp; Dealing out justice isn't so bad.&nbsp; I miss it, though.&nbsp; I have forgotten how it is to bring love and joy.&nbsp; I'm no better than if I had Fallen and they won't let me, " she said, sighing wistfully.&nbsp; She had been rubbing her thumb over his hand as if soothing herself.&nbsp; It still stung, the Change.&nbsp; <br><br>The memory of the other Seraphim holding her down, refusing to let her make the Fall.&nbsp; She could only kick and scream as they dragged her away in chains of gold and ripped her wings of purest white from her back to be replaced with the grey tipped in black.&nbsp; Her screams had shook the Heavens.&nbsp; The spree of dark Justice she had meted out was terrible in her anger.&nbsp; When she had settled, she was resigned and now her assignment was to wait on Armageddon.&nbsp; Whenever that was.<br><br>"Don't be hasty in casting your blame on Him.&nbsp; He has a plan.&nbsp; What it is, I have no idea," she said, not entirely convinced that she believed herself anymore.&nbsp; She motioned for the waiter and gave him her order.&nbsp; The waiter brought her a glass of white chablis, the cold flute beading with condensation.&nbsp; She ran a finger in the droplets before looking at Nick.<br><br>"You want a Truce?&nbsp; Hmmm, why?&nbsp; The Power that Is has put us on opposing sides.&nbsp; I think He kept me an Angel for the purpose sometimes," Izuriel said, her voice momentarily etched in anger.&nbsp; She took a deep breath to calm herself.&nbsp; "I have felt a difference in the air.&nbsp; Something stirs in the winds.&nbsp; You remember that feeling, don't you?&nbsp; No, you wouldn't.&nbsp; The wind no longer speaks to you."<br><br>She didn't mean to sound snide, it just came out that way.&nbsp; He may resent her status, but she resented his freedoms.&nbsp; "What could there bet to gain from something like a Truce?"<br><br><br><br><br><br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Drake Valentine</strong> on <strong>27-11-2010, 06:51:38</strong>
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				(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v222/Morkael/Ruki/CockroachRukiedit-1.jpg)<span style="font-family: Freestyle Script;" class="bbc_font"><strong><span style="font-size: 2.65em;" class="bbc_size">Shenovi Katsakachi</span></strong></span><br><br><span style="font-family: freestyle script;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 1.45em;" class="bbc_size"><strong>Location:</strong></span></span> Gilead Memorable Park - <em>Tea Party… With <span class="bbc_u">Friends</span></em><br><br>Now this was becoming a splendid tea party, sure it missed a few things, though the demon didn’t have the time in ‘raiding’ the city for a cake. What if his tricky companion escaped those bounds and ran off to inform others of Shenovi’s current location? Not that the insane demon was afraid, he just didn’t wish his tea party to be ruined by unwanted guests. There was only so much he could do in background decorations for the park and getting up from his table to tend to every nuisance does get annoying as well. Party crashers, oh how he loathed them so, and thusly he was going to have to punish his muffled guest.<br><br>But not now, perhaps that angst would be taken out on the other man whom was totally freaked out on the swingsets. There was a mental debate in tearing those lungs out, yet that subsided when the other guest arrived. <strong>”My, my, if it isn’t dear Alice.”</strong> Shenovi toyed with the idea, learning to read through the ages had changed him from the traditional, primitive, bloodthirsty and sadistic demon to the now ‘civilized,’ malicious, mastermind of wicked intent. Of course there were various flaws from a traditional tale in comparison to the reality of what was happening here; but no one was perfect. Shenovi at least made the attempt to make a fairytale real as his bare fingers swiped through the cool topping of the sundae, layering his limber appendages with the cream; his attention seeming distant to her for the time being, but he wasn’t ignoring her, he was just merely focused on something else.<br><br><strong>”Hmm.”</strong> He moved, shifting in his seat, reaching off to the side to grab at the chin of the gagged man’s. Calmly his sugary laced fingers ran across the victim’s cheek, painting a set of stripes of white across the flesh; before finally releasing his newly decorated prey. <strong>”Alice, I think your musings are scaring our Cheshire Cat here.”</strong> Shenovi’s hand went to flick to the side, a few droplets of white escaping the tips of his ebony nails, splattering across the bare chest of his bound victim’s.&nbsp; The poor guest frantically trying to escape from that seat, and though Shenovi’s pink eyes were currently locked upon his female companion, he was clearly amused. His sugary hand lifting, moving to his face where his tongue lapped away the lingering contents, cleansing himself and yet leaving a trail of white across his blacken, painted lips.<br><br><strong>”Such is the cruel truth of all life.”</strong> A late response, though he was never one of a timely manner in discussion. Another cup of tea was poured, the warm liquids filling the ivory glass, before he slid it across the table and pass the melting sundae towards the woman in front of him. <strong>”It is easy perishable. Humans bloom truth to this fact. Nephilim also end up sooner or later if they don’t find a ‘side.’ Angels can’t escape it, nor can demons. Neither can you and even I. We are all, ultimately, fragile creatures.”</strong> A loud clatter followed, their dear Cheshire Cat finally falling back in the chair, but still bound against it, struggling for escape, an escape that will never come.<br><br>What did come was the crimson clad man rising in his own chair and off the body his feet once perched upon, stepping around towards the struggling man. A sigh escaped him as he lifted the top off of the kettle. <strong>”Disobedient kitties need to be punished.”</strong> Steaming tea fell from its canister, pouring onto the man’s face below. Muffled screams could be heard as the contents not only wash away the cream, but also scalded and burned their way through the poor demon’s flesh. <strong>”Don’t you see, Alice, even our kitty here is quite docile.”</strong> He went on so nonchalantly to prove a point, his eyes never blinking as he watched the contents completely burn and disfigure the flesh of the demon’s below. Empty kettle being released, a solid thump sounding after it plop itself over the hideous ‘Cheshire’s’ face. Shenovi’s pink eyes returning to the woman across from him, yet he didn’t return to his own seat, instead he angled his body to face her from where he stood. <strong>”Wouldn’t you say you and I will be the same? Maybe I can find us some more tea to test that theory?”</strong> <br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Remiel</strong> on <strong>28-11-2010, 00:55:00</strong>
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				<strong>Nick Ramirez -- Ambrosia Restaurant, Downtown -- Dinner with Izuriel</strong><br><br>"Ah, so then you do admit to wishing for your old station," Nick grinned triumphantly, seizing upon the thread his old foe had inadvertently given him.&nbsp; "I must admit, the mantle of the Angel of Desire fit you so much better than that of the Angel of Punishment.&nbsp; I can see it -- it is like a prison, a cage around you.&nbsp; You struggle for His divine favor, His forgiveness, that you might be released from your shackles and allowed to spread Love amongst the humans once more."<br><br>He leaned back, smiling, as the headwaiter arrived with Izuriel's dish.&nbsp; The plate was uncovered and set before her; the man was enough of a professional that he did not stick around to ask any questions like, "would madamemoiselle care for anything else?"&nbsp; This was an important meeting between two very important people.&nbsp; Exactly who they were, he couldn't say, but they were definitely Important.<br><br>"Don't you weary of the same old conflicts, Izzy?&nbsp; My people fight yours, an interminable conflict that succeeds in nothing save the depletion of both sides," he sighed.&nbsp; "Why should we fight each other?&nbsp; Let's simply split the city in half--everyone west of, say, Eden Highway is yours; everything and everyone east of it is mine.&nbsp; Less trouble, less fuss, and we're still doing our jobs.&nbsp; Deal?"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kirinis</strong> on <strong>30-11-2010, 22:16:02</strong>
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				<strong>Saziel - Streets of Downtown - Fulfilling Functions</strong><br><br>The cry of someone in distress reached Saziel's ear and he quickened his pace, moving through the crowds at an accelerated pace.&nbsp; There was someone in danger and Saziel would rather be damned than not be able to assist.&nbsp; Swiftly and quickly, he dashed through, taking care not to bump or run into anyone as he weaved in and out of the crowds.&nbsp; Eventually the cries led him to an alleyway where no one else was paying attention to.<br><br>Saziel's eye focused on the source of the sound: yet another mugging on the streets of the City.&nbsp; They had been occurring with alarming frequency these days and he wondered if his opposite number had anything to do with that.&nbsp; Something to take up with him the next time they met.&nbsp; But for now, he had a soul to save.&nbsp; Saziel gently tapped the mugger on his shoulder, "Would you kindly please cease your actions and return that purse to the young woman?"<br><br>The mugger turned around and glared at him, "Butt of this, it has nothing to do with you."&nbsp; Saziel sighed, it was unfortunate that his kind offer was rejected.&nbsp; "I have to disagree, this does have everything to do with me.&nbsp; Please desist or else."&nbsp; Saziel cross his arms across his chest looking much like an admonishing father and hoped that he wouldn't have to go further.&nbsp; The mugger being much less enlightened chose to interpret that as an opening and stabbed him in the shoulder with his blade.&nbsp; Saziel calmly looked down at his wound before looking back at him, "Are you done yet?&nbsp; Please give her back the purse"<br><br>Sensing that something was off by the lack of reaction from the young man who had just been stabbed with a switchblade, the mugger had one of the smartest ideas in his life and immediately stopped to gap.&nbsp; Interpreting that as surrender, Saziel plucked the purse from the mugger's hand and put it back in the woman's hand.&nbsp; "I would stay away from this part of town in the future, Miss.&nbsp; It's just not safe."&nbsp; He nodded at the stunned woman before gripping on to the mugger even more tightly as he threw himself upwards in a upwards leap with the mugger in tow.<br><br>Saziel landed on a rooftop and it only took a few leaps and bounds to make it to the nearest police station where he dropped the mugger off gently on the front steps before disappearing back into the alley and back onto the rooftops.&nbsp; He was tired of the isolation for the moment and decided that instead he was going to go find the other angels.&nbsp; Sister was probably brooding on the rooftops again like she normally did.&nbsp; Saziel went out in search of Vorianne leaping from rooftop to rooftop keeping an eye out for his angry Sister.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Starlequin</strong> on <strong>01-12-2010, 01:45:25</strong>
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				<strong>Sam Cole -- Back of the ambulance -- performing emergency CPR on a fast-fading patient</strong><br><br>The sirens were blaring at full volume on the ambulance roof as Jerry sped through the downtown streets, swerving around the occasional late-night traffic. The streets were thankfully empty for the most part, and the ride was smooth enough to let Sam inject the coagulant directly into the young man's vein before beginning to attempt emergency resuscitation procedures. Blood spouted from the gash in his arm in rhythmic spurts, in time with his dwindling heartbeat. It would have been soothing if it weren't so damn terrifying.<br><br>Except Sam wasn't terrified. Her heart rate had barely changed all night, and she'd been as calm and cool as a cucumber. '<em>That's not right, though. At the least, I should be experiencing heightened adrenaline, but I don't feel stressed at all. And Jerry, too. Three calls in less than three hours, and I don't think I've seen his facial expression change once.</em>'<br><br>Her hands moved steadily, pressing bandages in place and securing stints and tourniquets with more than her usual practiced ease. '<em>Is it apathy? Do I just not care about my job anymore? About these people? That's...that's not like me</em>.' She knelt beside the injured man, pumping her fists up and down on his chest in time. '<em>That's not like me, dammit!'</em><br><br>Sam's arms felt like melted rubber as she felt Jerry pulling the wagon into the hospital bay, and heard the patter of orderlies' shoes rushing out to collect the patient. It was already too late, though. With as much blood loss as the man had suffered, there was almost no chance of saving him now. Her efforts had been in vain. Samantha's eyes softened and she pressed her palms against his chest, just above his heart, and a single tear slid down her cheek.<br><br>"...no."<br><br>So much death. So much pain. So much violence, and suffering, and misery.<br><br>And she didn't care?<br><br>"...No."<br><br>She had no idea what was wrong with this world. What was wrong with her. But all of it would be damned to Hell and back again before she would let it stop her from caring anymore. Her vision was becoming blurry with tears, and pain started to wrack her body as a faint light began to shine in the back of the ambulance, emitted from the downturned palms of her hands.<br><br>"<strong>NO</strong>."<br><br>A sharp groan distracted her for a moment, and she looked down to see the young man's chest rising and falling in a more natural, easy rhythm. Sam's eyes widened in disbelief as she stared down at the dying man...who was no longer dying. A piercing pain, sharp but shallow, rocked her back onto the small bench. She held back a scream as the orderlies jerked open the door and pulled the patient out, apparently oblivious to her distress. From miles away, she heard Jerry congratulate her on a job well done, and nodded shakily.<br><br><em>'What...the FUCK...was that?'</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>PeacethatPowerbrings</strong> on <strong>02-12-2010, 00:51:02</strong>
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				<strong>Karna -- Downtown Gilead -- Teaching</strong><br><br>It had never been in Karna's nature to tempt the newly awakened of Gilead toward the depths of sin and depravity, rather it was apathy she nutured. The man, having seen the truth of the world for a mere day, maybe less, had found that horrors awaited him. The tall robed figure over him drew long swipes over his chest, with its impossibly sharp scythe. The cuts seemed to slice at his shirt, thread by thread, making a long ragged cut appear after the first few swipes, though this wasn't so much the raggedness of the cut, as the mess of fibers that spilled outward from the true cut, the one that had not yet even passed his shirt. He didn't dare move for fear of the blade touching his skin.<br><br>"So pitiful," said the demon woman, "so completely out of your depth. Its amazing what pain a little understanding brings."<br><br>The tall figure switched slicing hands, the blade moving toward his neck, causing him to recoil closer still to the floor, as far as that was possible, unable to move, any motion taking him away from the floor, and toward the blade.<br><br>"So, weak, so helpless," she said, "why bother?"<br><br>She knelt down beside his shoulder, and leant over, her mouth close enough to his ear that the sound didn't even carry in the incredibly angular foyer of the building. She stood after she'd spoken. The blade withdrew as the interpreter did, and the two left the man where he lay. He didn't move for a while. He would get up eventually, go home, perhaps do what he usually did. He would feign ignorance of the bizzareness of Gilead, and in time, he'd lose his humanity to the temptation of being the sighted among the blind. After all, if all the slaves are blind, best to feign blindess as the one-eyed man.<br><br>Karna exited the building, onto the street, unseen by the crowd around her. The interpreter had vanished, gone after she'd opened the door to leave, but before she'd reached the street. Karna's stride was silent and covered by the robe which flowed around her feet, if indeed anything of the sort was under the robe at all. Karna was something like a natural inhabitant of Gilead, in a spiritual sense. There was something about the passivity, that suggested that the tall, scythe bearing figured, despite her peculiarity, was not out of place among the sleepwalking citizenry of Gilead.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>minerva7790</strong> on <strong>02-12-2010, 11:03:45</strong>
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				<strong>Tiffania -- on the streets -- enjoying the cool night</strong><br><br>Tiffa shook her head as an ambulance raced past her, wailing as it went. <em>Some bloke got hit in a traffic accident?</em> she speculated. <em>Poor sod. Poor sods, actually...</em> She corrected herself, eyeing the Nephilim hurrying past her to unknown destinations.<br><br>She checked herself. She had been one of them not too long ago, anyway, going about her business just like the average human being. Teaching at a school for the difficult by day, and returning to her apartment by night. Until her eyes were opened to the reality of her situation, and all the work she had done helping the difficult children didn't matter anymore, because she wasn't going to help them get a better chance in life. There was no more life to be lived.<br><br>Suddenly, Tiffa felt so very alone. As a Cherub, she always got bored, but never tired of solitude. Now, however, in the midst of all these ignorant Nephilim, she felt alone. Desperate to go <em>somewhere</em>, Tiffa turned and entered the first building she saw, and just kept walking. It wasn't until a lady in white stopped her with a kind but firm smile did she realise where she was. She had entered Mercy View Hospital.<br><br>Smiling back at the nurse, Tiffa shook her head. "Ah, no, it's alright. I'm fine. I'm umm... visiting someone..." The doctor gave her a suspicious look, so Tiffa added. "She's in the maternity ward." The nurse was reluctant to let Tiffa go wandering around, but let the matter pass. There would be other nurses in the wards to keep an eye on this visitor. "Fifth floor, door to your left. Have a nice day, miss!" she instructed Tiffa, before bustling off to deal with another patient. With relief, Tiffa kept walking, trying to look as if she belonged. Perhaps she would find some cute babies to tease to pass the time.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>twistedlace</strong> on <strong>03-12-2010, 03:34:43</strong>
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				<strong>Vorianne - An Abandoned Factory - Judgement Comes</strong><br><br><br>Night had just begun to fall, the faint glow of the sun behind the ever present haze that seemed to float over Giliad slowly drifting further and further towards the twisted metal horizon, when she reached the factory district.&nbsp; The faint vertigo of twilight only lasted a few moments, balancing on the razor's edge border of night and day before the world quickly plunged into blackness.&nbsp; Vorianne preferred the night, often to the confusion of her Angelic brothers and sisters.&nbsp; The twisted darkness of the City, with all it's hidden horrors and dark reflections was something she could fight, an evil that could be faced in it's dimly lit alleys.&nbsp; The Hunt was something she normally embraced with enthusiasm . . . but not tonight.<br><br>Tonight she hunted her own, those who had fallen to the Enemy's perverse power.<br><br><em>May He forgive you and have Mercy on your souls.</em> she intoned to herself as she approached a particular abandoned factory <em>For I will not.</em><br><br>___________________________<br><br>Roberta De La Cruz rubbed her arms through the flimsy protection of her windbreaker, goosebumps running up and down her arms as she shook her head, pleading softly with her companions in the enveloping darkness of the factory.<br><br>"We <em>can't</em> do this.&nbsp; Tom,&nbsp; Lee, listen to me.&nbsp; The Lady would not . . ."<br><br>Tom cut her off, the almost animal growl coming from deep within his massive chest as he spun to her, his flashlight shining directly into her eyes before he lowered it to the ground "The Lady?&nbsp; Where was the <em>Lady</em> when your sister was attacked, Roberta?&nbsp; Where was the all powerful Lady when Lee's wife died?&nbsp; Where was the thrice Hell cursed Lady when my Sasha . . ." he choked back a sob before whirling away from her and continuing his march deeper into the factory "This is the only way."<br><br>Roberta spared a helpless glance at Lee, the thin Asian man averting his eyes from hers before he followed a few steps behind Tom.&nbsp; She watched their retreating backs for a moment before hurrying up, catching up with them just as they reached the chained form near the very center of the abandoned complex.&nbsp; It was Roberta's turn to avert her eyes, unable to look at the broken and bleeding man on the floor, his face beaten to a bloody pulp and one of his legs laying at an awkward angle as he moaned weakly, the heavy chain collar around his neck clinking in the silence.<br><br>Tom strode up to him, his booted foot lashing out to slam into the Infernal's already cracked ribs, earning a shriek of agony from the pitiful creature as it curled up into a ball.&nbsp; He spat on the prone form, anger raging in his eyes "Tonight.&nbsp; Tonight we do it, we use this <em>monster</em> to save the Nephelim, to bring them to Him and His loving embrace." he leaned down to look into the broken man's eyes "Tonight, creature, your life will finally have meaning."<br><br>"As yours does, Thomas Potter?" the voice spoke softly from the darkness, barely a whisper but causing all three of the Cherubim to jump and spin.<br><br>"And you, Lee Yamisho?" the murmur whispered from another point amidst the dark machinery that surrounded them with almost a faint note of maddening amusement "Or you, Roberta? Who . . pray tell, empowered <em>you</em> to decide who lives and who dies?&nbsp; Who comes unto Him?"<br><br>"Who's there?!" Tom demanded, his bearded face twisted in fear as he rose to his full height "In His name I demand you show yourself!"<br><br>There was a moment of silence, and then a slim, ghostly form emerged into the play of their flashlights and the single grimy bulb hanging above them, her grey trenchcoat shrouding much of her even as the hood pulled down over her face shrouded all but the curve of her full lips, quirked in a faint smile.&nbsp; Vorianne waited a moment, giving the Cherub time to grapple with the appearance of one of the Arch Angels suddenly in their midst before she spoke softly, almost gently.<br><br>"Who has given you the right to harm him?"&nbsp; a slight tilt of her head indicated the man on the floor as she began to pace slowly around them, remaining at the edge of the light "Who has told you to wage war on the Infernals?"<br><br>Tom's bluster returned as he faced her, squaring his chest and standing proudly "They wage war on <em>us</em>, on the innocents of Gilead.&nbsp; They corrupt, they destroy, they violate all that is sacred" his eyes glinted with an almost feverish light "We must do <em>whatever</em> we must to eradicate them, to protect the Nephelim!"<br><br>"And arranging attacks on Nephelim?&nbsp; Blaming them on the Infernals to attempt to drive them into our hands?" Vorianne's voice was as cold as an executioner's blade "Going <em>directly</em> against our Lady's orders?"<br><br>"Fuck the La . . " Tom began with a snarl, taking a single step towards Vorianne menacingly.<br><br>Her blade leapt out with a single blinding motion as with a flick of her wrist she took his head from his shoulders.&nbsp; The Cherub feel without a sound except a dull thud as his large form struck the hard steel floor.&nbsp; Before another breath had passed she had returned to her original position, standing still as the shock shook the other pair of Cherub.&nbsp; After another moment Roberta let out a high pitched scream, eyes wide in horror as she stumbled backward, Lee bending half over as he dry heaved.<br><br>With another a flick of her blade she cast a thin line of scarlet blood on the floor, cleaning the blade as she took another step forward "I will brook no insult to the Lady." she said softly, eyes turning from the fallen Cherub to Lee&nbsp; "Lee Yamisho, you are given this one chance to depart from this path, by order of the Lady which we all serve."&nbsp; the short blade spun in her hand, tucking in behind her arm along her forearm as she offered one hand to him "What is your decision?"<br><br>Lee stood frozen for a moment, brown eyes huge discs in his pale face before with a soft cry he ran past her into the darkness.&nbsp; Vorianne made no move to impede him, head half turning beneath the hood to watch him go before returning to Roberta and the Infernal on the ground.<br><br>Roberta sobbed, stepping forward with relief evident in her eyes "Oh thank the heavens you came, Arch Angel, they were going to hurt him, kill him and frame him for their crimes.&nbsp; I tried to stop them . ."<br><br>Vorianne's blade flicked out once more, coming to rest just a hair from Roberta's throat.&nbsp; The Cherub froze, confusion and fear evident on her face as she barely dared breathe.&nbsp; After another moment Vorianne reached up and removed her hood, her eyes glowing with a faint blue light as she regarded the Cherub impassively.<br><br>"You . . you, Roberta, are a liar." she half whispered, the tip of her blade pressing against the other's throat&nbsp; "You did not stop them, you did everything in your power to encourage them.&nbsp; To drive them to further excess, to harm and . . to murder." the arch angel grimaced, disgust evident in her icy tone "Your soul is as black as theirs, Roberta." she nodded to the Infernal on the ground.<br><br>Roberta's fear disappeared into an impassive mask, a faint flicker of amusement in her eyes "I do what I think is best, Vorianne.&nbsp; As do you.&nbsp; How many have you killed in His name?&nbsp; How many to the Abyss at our Lady's beck and call?" one hand lightly touched the blade at her throat while the other slipped into one of her jean pockets behind her back.<br><br>"I serve our Lady.&nbsp; I serve Him.&nbsp; You serve yourself, your own twisted pleasure.&nbsp; Surrender yourself to the Lady's judgement and perhaps she will be merciful, Roberta."<br><br>Roberta's eyes narrowed with the desperate rage of a caged animal, triumph lighting her features for a moment as her hand tightened around it's prize in her pocket.&nbsp; Brushing aside the blade at her throat, Roberta spun, the thin gold chain in her hand flicking out towards the arch angel.&nbsp; As it whipped through the air it caught flame, burning with a harsh amber light that illuminated the large room in a brilliant flash.&nbsp; Vorianne ducked, bending as the chain shrieked through the air above her, scorching the metal machines around them in a brilliant shower of sparks.&nbsp; She continued the motion, rolling past the wildly swinging cherub, slashing at Roberta's calf as she passed.<br><br>The cherub screamed as the pain lanced her leg, suddenly refusing to support her as she turned, attempting to follow the arch angel and strike her down before she could recover.&nbsp; She saw Vorianne's blade flash, the tip slashing across her forehead and parting the smooth skin to release a stream of blood into her eyes.&nbsp; Roberta's howl of pain and rage echoed through the factory as she swung the golden chain wildly, slashing at any point of air that might contain the angel, weaving a maze of whirling attacks.<br><br>Roberta's attacks slowed, and then paused as the blinded woman attempted to find her target, listening past her own labored breathing and the Infernal's choked sobs.&nbsp; She heard the clank of metal on metal and spun, her whip flashing out to ensare and burn the . . .and stepped directly into Vorianne's thrust.&nbsp; The short blade slammed into her chest, piercing her heart in one push that carried the tip through her back to poke out of the flimsy windbreaker.&nbsp; Her mouth opened in a silent 'o', her breath driven from her as she collapsed.&nbsp; Vorianne guided her fall, leading her to the ground gently as her lifeblood flowed from her in a scarlet stream.&nbsp; She choked on blood, attempting to speak as the arch angel gently caressed her cheek.<br><br>"I am sorry Roberta." Vorianne whispered, leaning down to lightly brush the fallen Cherub's hair with her lips before making the sign of their Master over her "Sorry that you could not be saved.&nbsp; Be at peace, if it is possible for you."<br><br>With a twist she removed the sword, the cherub's body convulsing for a moment before her final breath escaped her broken body and the spirit fled, leaving merely the empty shell behind.&nbsp; Vorianne bowed her head as her faintly glowing eyes returned to their customary deep blue, bringing her hood back up to cover her features.&nbsp; Sorrow twisted her lips as she closed Roberta's eyes, sadness at having to end the life of one of her sisters.&nbsp; It was a failure on her part, to have not seen the corruption in the cherub's heart until it was too late, until the only answer lay in the sword.&nbsp; A burden she would carry now in remembrance of the fallen cherub.<br><br>Her head snapped up as the wounded Infernal sobbed once more, lost in his own agony and her lips curled into a snarl.&nbsp; One of the twisted beings that had no doubt tempted Roberta, had led her down the dark path that had led her here.&nbsp; Not personally responsible but a symbol of the evil that lurked and tempted even the purest of them.&nbsp; She longed to strike it down, to end it's misery as one would a fallen animal but again her Lady's instructions stayed her hand.&nbsp; The Law had to be obeyed.<br><br>And so she stood, moving to gently scoop up the wounded man into her arms, ignoring the blood his wounds smeared on her clothes as well as the pitiful gasp of relief as the creature realized it would not be tortured further, even it's maimed eyes able to sense the angel's aura.&nbsp; His wounds were far beyond her own moderate skill to heal . . and there was not time to attempt to contact another more skilled than she, it was a fell miracle that he still lived at all.<br><br><em>Mercy View Hospital</em> she thought as a mental map of the City whirled before her eyes <em>It's close and the Nephelim might be able to save him.&nbsp; If not . . .if not I will have done my duty.</em><br><br>And so she turned, carrying the emaciated Infernal easily in her arms as she left behind her the bodies of the two fallen Cherub in the faint flickering light.<br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lady Kitsune</strong> on <strong>03-12-2010, 09:50:49</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i814.photobucket.com/albums/zz64/kumiho333/Pretty%20Gals/fanbingbing11.jpg)</div><div style="text-align: right;">________________________♥____ <strong><em><span style="font-family: papyrus;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Izuriel, the Lady Seraphim</span></span></em></strong></div><br><div style="text-align: right;">_______________♥____<em><strong><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">Location:</span></span>Sitting with Nick and standing by the ambulance with Sam</strong></em></div><br>"Whatever.&nbsp; It has it's good points, not feeling the beautiful passion of two souls joining, she said, her attention focused on her silver domed dish.&nbsp; He had done it again, made her feel guilty and defensive all at once.&nbsp; She thanked the garcon and lifted the the lid, the steam and aroma of her Veal Souffle making her mouth water.&nbsp; She picked up her fork, and poked at it, wondering if it would fall.&nbsp; She ate a forkful, making little happy noises.&nbsp; it was deliciously....bland but good for Gilead.&nbsp; Only the baked goods of her little shop could compare to what Earthside had.<br><br>She was ever thoughtful, her mind entirely on what Nick had spoken of.&nbsp; It seemed like a good idea on the surface but it would never work.&nbsp; The exercise of this endeavor was to gather an army, not play overseers of the city.&nbsp; She put down her fork and put her elbows on the table.&nbsp; She rested her chin in her hand and looked at Nick for a very long time, tilting her head this way and that as if she could get THE answer by looking in his eyes.&nbsp; She couldn't.&nbsp; They were as unrevealing as her own.&nbsp; <br><br>"No," she said, as simple as that.&nbsp; "We cannot divide the city.&nbsp; As much as I would like to put this tired business behind me, it is not something I want to consider.&nbsp; It wouldn't be....fun.&nbsp; Besides, did you not <em>feel</em> it.&nbsp; Something big is coming.&nbsp; I don't know what but we should be ready.<br><br>Her eyes flicked to the side as if she saw something and she frowned, her eyes darkened and for a moment it was as if she were somewhere else and then she smiled, her face lighting up.&nbsp; "We would do better to keep as we are or up the ante."<br><br>_________________<br><br>Izuriel, Lady of Gilead had felt it, known it and now she was here.&nbsp; She stood beside the ambulance, her eyes on the girl's face.&nbsp; She began to glow softly, her Angelic visage, her wings, of gray and black ruffling.&nbsp; No one could see her and she made herself known only to the girl who's name was Sam.<br><br>"Exactly," she said, answering the question, Sam had spoken to no one.&nbsp; "You have such a wondrous gift.&nbsp; You really should use it for the good of all.&nbsp; There are things...limitless possibilities.&nbsp; I can help you.&nbsp; You....you can help me."<br><br>She smiled, a upturn of her lips that seemed to have a light all of its own.&nbsp; The girl had the gift of healing and if Izuriel knew anything, that was rare and very useful.&nbsp; She could not allow this girl to fall to to Nick and his merry band of Infernals.&nbsp; She looked up and for the second time this night, she frowned.&nbsp; Coming closer was Vorianne.&nbsp; Her nose wrinkled as she smelled chaos and punishment, the heady elixir of Justice dealt.&nbsp; Ah, but they would have a little chat about that later, now, she had bigger fish to catch.<br><br>"Come, Sam.&nbsp; You have more to do this night," she spoke in a commanding way but soft and encouraging.&nbsp; Vorianne held a body that needed help, infernal or not.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>05-12-2010, 01:06:19</strong>
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				A Moment Lost - David Nevue (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1evTK3tpuXc#)<br><br><strong>Clemenza - strolling down the streets of Gilead - A Moment Lost</strong><br><br>The "bit o' honey" wasn't quite as sweet as his slice of life despite how it rankled his senses and appealed to his greater sense of confectionary injustice.&nbsp; His tongue languorously swished like the lazy tail of a half-hearted feline.&nbsp; Broad strokes stoked the brush-bellows into the blowhard wax-hot wafting that spin-cycled a lurid lengua.&nbsp; Gooey gobs and gelatinous globules defied his taste's buds burgeoning barrow.&nbsp; The injustice sent such a twinge straight upwards, through his jaw, limned his lineament, and into his brain where it blossomed into the dull throb of an aching sweet tooth.<br><br>"Gah!"<br><br><em>Bite your tongue old man.</em>&nbsp; Cute.&nbsp; But, as destiny might have it, not cute enough.&nbsp; The fates spiraled out of his featherlight grasp with the intermittent beating of ragged wings.&nbsp; And the dim illumination of a discarded halo.&nbsp; Fancy that.&nbsp; The cadence kept swift pursuit like the clip-clop clod-hopping of hooves upon the macadam; his passage was the heartbeat of a lively step -- in time -- and demanding of it's own percussive accompaniment.&nbsp; Care to enlighten an old world?&nbsp; The gray scale hues steeped in a world awash with monochromatic stains.&nbsp; Salt and pepper sprinkled liberally upon the canvas.&nbsp; The mendicant call for brush strokes begged the Nephilim to paint their world.&nbsp; No more cavalier a swath could be cut through a switchblade's swatch, like painted parchment paper, when held aloft against the mosaic.&nbsp; A central, circular, stained-glass rose window, a lidless kaleidoscopic eye,&nbsp; filtered purgatory-vision and rendered pale, palling desires; it was a porthole through which they peered and ogled the world that might have been.<br><br><em>"Eternity follows me everywhere,<br>My words so hollow won't go anywhere,<br>Distant shadows disappear,<br>It searches the gate beyond the stars,<br>Is it just an omen,<br>Is it me walking blindly,<br>I will find the answer,<br>When I wake up from my dream."</em><br><br><div class="floatright">(http://www.scoutleadersrescue.org/files/Old%20Ambulance(3).jpg)</div>The siren's plaintive bleating roused him from reverie, shod his loafers in pig-iron, and rooted him stock-still on telescopic rails.&nbsp; An ambulance whizzed by him with the kind of haste that should warrant an emergency.&nbsp; Amichevole doffed his hat to the Lord and dipped his brim to Him.&nbsp; In so doing, he spared a moment of prayer for the passenger of the vehicle.&nbsp; The mystery of divine work was spread parsimoniously like marshmallow fluff over peanut butter and scraped sparingly over a toasted veil of sin.&nbsp; A choir of blitzing vixens heralded his entrance into ambulatory care, each step shrouded in the shapeless shadows of mortality.<br><br>"May I help you?" came the disembodied query from a misshapen mass off his starboard.<br><br>"Ah yes," he hesitated, "I'd like to see a doctor."<br><br>"What's wrong?" the nebulous voice interrogated.<br><br>"Why nothing, my dear, nothing at all."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Starlequin</strong> on <strong>06-12-2010, 01:09:34</strong>
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				<strong>Sam Cole -- Ambulance Bay 2 -- Experiencing total reality collapse</strong><br><br>The pain in her arm was starting to diminish, but it was by no means leaving fast enough. Samantha tried to lift her head back up from her knees and immediately felt dizzy again, nauseous, as though a couple of giant children were tossing the ambulance back and forth to each other with her inside it. The cold steel of the side bar felt soothing in her fists. She would have loved to lie down and press her forehead against it, but the prospect of any kind of motion still held the promise of vomiting.<br><br><em>'Ugh...alright, so...what just happened? That guy was <strong>gone</strong>, I mean he was...at least, I <span class="bbc_u">thought</span>...So, what? I read his vitals wrong? Delayed metabolic reaction? Or...'</em><br><br>Samantha tried to stop herself from completing her next thought, but her mind was already in overdrive.<br><br><em>'Did I just witness a miracle?'</em><br><br>The EMT risked opening her eyes again and was rewarded with clearer vision, along with decreased nausea. After a few more minutes, when it felt like her limbs might not fall off if she moved, Sam slowly sat up on the bench and breathed deep and slow. <em>'And forget about him for a minute, what the hell happened to me?'</em><br><br>As she replayed the ride in her mind, she was interrupted by the sudden sensation of no longer being alone. A soft, gentle glow began to fill the ambulance and she turned her head slowly to meet its source, a beautifully ephemeral winged lady surrounded by an otherworldly light. She was, by leaps and bounds, the most beautiful woman Samantha had ever seen, and her smile was simply radiant.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=89543.msg3969628#msg3969628">Quote from: Lady Kitsune on 03-12-2010, 09:50:49</a></div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">"Exactly," she said, answering the question, Sam had spoken to no one.&nbsp; "You have such a wondrous gift.&nbsp; You really should use it for the good of all.&nbsp; There are things...limitless possibilities.&nbsp; I can help you.&nbsp; You....you can help me."<br><br>"Come, Sam.&nbsp; You have more to do this night," she spoke in a commanding way but soft and encouraging.&nbsp; Vorianne held a body that needed help, infernal or not.<br></blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>Sam smiled a little and closed her eyes as she leaned her head back against the ambulance wall. "Oh, thank God. A hallucination. The adrenaline must finally be hitting me," she said to herself with a shaky laugh, her voice soft and breathy. The sound of new footsteps approaching the ambulance bay, however, drew her attention to another ethereally beautiful woman coming toward her, this one with a limp and crumpled body in her arms. "Aw, you've got to be kidding me! Even my subconscious is trying to work me to death..."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Remiel</strong> on <strong>06-12-2010, 09:03:01</strong>
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				<strong>Nick Ramirez -- Ambrosia Restaurant, Downtown -- Still having dinner with Izuriel</strong><br><br>Nick smiled ironically as the woman opposite him seemed to go all glassy-eyed and vacant for a moment, before returning to life.&nbsp; She was somewhere else in the city, he knew, at the moment, no doubt trying to show mercy on some poor soul.&nbsp; It was a trick they both did, a talent reserved for the Prince and Seraph of Gilead alone.&nbsp; <em>This must be what the Almighty feels like</em>, he thought.&nbsp; <em>I wonder if he ever finds it tiring.</em><br><br>He watched her cut into her Veal Soufflé.&nbsp; It was almost absurd; why should such beings as they, immortal creations with (technically) no souls, derive such enjoyment from mere trifles as food and drink?&nbsp; There was nothing about it that was magical, that was mystical.&nbsp; He could practically see every atom, every molecule in the concoction currently being devoured.&nbsp; In a hundred years' time--heck in a year's time--it would be dust.&nbsp; Nothing special about it at all.&nbsp; &nbsp;And yet, from the expression on Izzy's face, it was an experience worth savoring, worth remembering.&nbsp; Silly angels...<br><br>And yet, he supposed, the same thing could be said about his own affectation for his music.&nbsp; It was a silly thing, indeed; but give him a Bo Diddley croon when the lights were low and the mood was just right, and heaven and hell could go hang for all he cared.&nbsp; He had tried, thousands of times, to play the piano like Diddley could, could reproduce every note just right, but there was something...something <em>missing</em> about his own attempts.&nbsp; As B.B. King would probably say, it "ain't got no soul."<br><br>All right, so there were still some things he hadn't figured out yet.&nbsp; Like the identity of the Iurus Formator, for one.&nbsp; &nbsp;There had been one in Gilead as far as he could remember (and that was saying something!)&nbsp; although the individual identity seemed to change from time to time.&nbsp; Just a hundred years ago, it had been a grey-haired old Italian man.&nbsp; As soon as, it seemed, Nick had managed to identify him and track him down--poof!--he vanished.&nbsp; If there was any mystery in Gilead, it seemed to revolve around the "wish maker".<br><br>"Well," he sighed, as Izuriel turned down his offer, "at least I tried.&nbsp; What is it with you angels?&nbsp; Always nothing but duty, duty, duty.&nbsp; &nbsp;You know what they say--all work and no play, and all that."<br><br>He drained his wine, dabbed both corners of his mouth with a napkin, and stood up.&nbsp; "Always a pleasure, Izzy.&nbsp; Let's do this again sometime soon.&nbsp; Don't worry about the check; I've got this one."<br><br>With a flourish, he reached into his suit coat and produced a slim, elegant piece of paper and a pen.&nbsp; He scribbled something on it, then put the pen back in his breast pocket and the cheque on the table, facedown.&nbsp; "Don't worry about it.&nbsp; The owner of this restaurant is a friend of mine."&nbsp; With a devilish wink and a grin, he turned away from the table, straightening his tie.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>twistedlace</strong> on <strong>06-12-2010, 22:02:36</strong>
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				<strong>Vorianne - Mercy Hospital - A Race to Save the Undeserving</strong><br><br><br>Vorianne made good time, better than she could have reasonably hoped for as she raced down the alleys towards the hospital, careful to keep off the main streets.&nbsp; She couldn't risk other modes of transportation, not with the fragile burden that she carried that cried out at the slightest jostle.&nbsp; Flight, even at the lowest speeds, would have put an unacceptable strain on the Infernal even had she dared to attempt it.&nbsp; Without the glamoring abilities that many of her kin possessed, flight had always been a dangerous proposition for Vorianne and only resorted to in the most dire situations.<br><br>As well, she could hardly avail herself of a taxi with her blood drenched passenger, the same logic ruling out subways or other public transportation.&nbsp; And so she was left cradling the wounded Infernal in her surprisingly strong arms, carrying his solid weight as easily as a Nephelim might a small animal.&nbsp; She made her way as quickly as she could through the darkened alleys until she reached the hospital, it's smooth white exterior glinting softly in the lights of the city.&nbsp; She felt the creature's breath become more ragged and shallow as long strides ate up the distance across the carefully manicured grounds as she approached the ER's entrance, a single ambulance parked just outside the sliding doors.<br><br>She caught sight of two figures as she approaching, and it was a testament to her preoccupation with her charge that she failed to recognize the first until she was almost on top of the pair.<br><br><em>No, no.&nbsp; Not now.</em> she thought as her heart seemed to stop beating in her chest at being in the presence of her Lady.&nbsp; A small corner of her recognized it as merely one of her other selves, a very real but less . . . glorious version of the Seraphim.&nbsp; It made a convenient excuse for not having sensed her earlier but Vorianne still felt her breath catch in her throat at the sight of her.&nbsp; The gentle flow of her long raven black hair as it framed her expressive face and warm, inviting dark eyes.&nbsp; The soft flutter of her black tipped wings as well as the slow shifting of the silky dress she wore, the fabric moving as if in an invisible breeze to always show the Seraphim at her finest.&nbsp; Not that Vorianne believe for a moment that it was possible for her to look otherwise.<br><br>The arch angel felt her heart swell with the unconditional love and devotion that her Mistress's presence always evoked in her as well as . . . .certain baser desires that the Seraphim's angelic being also brought forth.&nbsp; Closing her eyes for just a moment in frustration at the unbidden feelings Vorianne ruthlessly suppressed them, berating herself once more for ever <em>daring</em> to think of the Lady Izuriel in such a fashion.&nbsp; Of contemplating the soft curves that lay beneath the flowing dress,&nbsp; of the caress of those full lips . . . . <br><br>Once more Vorianne pushed such things away, locking them away in a silent corner of her soul as she always did, a ravenous hunger that she could not allow to be sated.&nbsp; They subsided and slowly left her and after another pregnant moment she opened her eyes once more and took in the woman next to the Seraphim.&nbsp; A Nephelim.&nbsp; Attractive with short, almost boyish hair and a slim figure that filled out the EMT uniform she wore quite well.&nbsp; The eyes were quick and intelligent, though apparently dulled somewhat by lack of sleep and . . . .something.<br><br>Vorianne blinked, her eyes shifting for just a moment to a lighter, almost glowing blue as she stole a glimpse at the girl's soul.&nbsp; It was not enough to see the Nephelim as she <em>truly</em> was, or even as the girl imagined herself (sadly with the Nephelim, quite often two very different people).&nbsp; But it was enough to provide a quick series of images.<br><br><em>Awakened, or at least on the cusp of it.</em> Vorianne thought to herself as she crossed the last few feet between herself and the pair, bowing as deeply as she could to Izuriel with her burden and nodding slightly to the Nephelim <em>And one our Lady sees fit to court into the Fold herself</em>.<br><br>The arch angel felt another emotion pierce her heart for just a moment before she forced it too away.&nbsp; Jealousy.&nbsp; That the Lady herself would come visit the Nephelim, to seek to bring her to the Light with her own hands rather than trusting it to another.&nbsp; That she would value the mere mortal such . . . but no, it was not proper and in fact dangerous to think such things.&nbsp; And so she smiled faintly at the Nephelim, certain that her blood soaked appearance as well as the state of her burden would unnerve her and seeking to somewhat temper the image before turning back to her Lady.<br><br>"Lady Izuriel." she said softly, her smooth voice a worshiping whisper.&nbsp; There would be time for her report later, for now the Infernal lay very close to death "I bring the one they captured.&nbsp; He is fading quickly and I fear I may have rescued him too late." she bowed her head and continued "What would you have me do, my Lady?"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kirinis</strong> on <strong>10-12-2010, 06:51:19</strong>
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				<strong>Saziel - Somewhere Midtown - Three Steps Behind</strong><br><br>The wind gently cradled Saziel as he completed his arc and landed on the rooftop with a gentle thump as his feet touched the rooftop.&nbsp; He was about to leap again when he caught a distinctive scent; the scent of aged wood and warm metal.&nbsp; Saziel halted and settled back to standing as he surveyed the rooftop, Sister was here earlier but based on the fading nose of the scent, she had left a while ago.&nbsp; He looked around, there were not a single trace of violence near in the air which meant that Vorianne had not reaped in the local area either.<br><br>Saziel paced on the rooftop trying to get a better sense where his Sister had headed off.&nbsp; Perhaps she had seen an Infernal or some Nephilim that had done something to incur her wrath, which wasn't that hard to do.&nbsp; Or perhaps the Lady had given her an ending to carry out.&nbsp; All of which were assumptions not grounded in hard solid fact.&nbsp; He was going to have to do better if he wanted to find where Vorianne currently was.<br><br>Standing here and dibbling was not going to find his Sister any faster and Saziel decided that it was probably best to keep on moving.&nbsp; He closed his eyes and let the wind whisper a suggestion before he dropped off the edge of the rooftop to land in the alleyway.&nbsp; Saziel started walking on the sidewalk again, mingling with the crowd.&nbsp; He found comfort in the masses and they would guide him to her sister as even though they were unaware of the presence of the Sides, they instinctively gravitated towards and away from certain situations.&nbsp; All he had to do was read the signs.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>11-12-2010, 04:03:57</strong>
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				Yiruma - When The Love Falls (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IVeD9b8cgow#)<br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://www.klast.net/bond/images/connery99.jpg)</div><br>"Ah, Mr. Amicavahl," the doctor hesitated after butchering a Romance-language remnant and leaving Latin for dead.&nbsp; Clemenza took his broken-name in stride and smiled it away as if sloughing the mortal coil could be as easy as shedding a snake's skin.&nbsp; "Ah, sir, the complexity of your condition is significant and it appears to be beyond our capability to treat at this facility.&nbsp; I would like you to submit for psychiatric evaluation and some general testing."&nbsp; <em>I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in.</em>&nbsp; "Physically, however, you seem to be as fit as a fiddle.&nbsp; I'm happy to report that your cholesterol is low, your blood-pressure is well within its normal ranges, your heart and lungs appear to be healthy and surprisingly youthful."<br><br>"This is the problem," he drawled with an upturned finger that pointed to his head. <br><br>"Well we don't know that yet, Mr. Amic," the doctor was obviously stymied.&nbsp; "Sir, that's why we're proposing that you be transferred to another facility that is better suited to testing such things."&nbsp; The doctor was as generic as he could possibly be.&nbsp; With a white lab coat, dark hair, glasses, a nondescript nose, and a face that defined "unnoticeable" he scanned the clipboard with an increasingly furrowed brow as if slowly digesting the contents held therein.<br><br>His bare feet were a little chilly and the robin's egg blue hospital gown left his entire back exposed.&nbsp; A lesson in humility was part and parcel to a hospital visit.&nbsp; "I would, of course, submit to such tests."<br><br>The doctor squinted salubriously as though he could wring the last of his carrot's vitamin-A from a new pair of bifocals.&nbsp; "Would you mind expounding upon your symptoms please?&nbsp; It says here that your Gob... "he stopped and eyed the old man incredulously.<br><br>"Gobstopper, yes, it hasn't tasted as sweet as I remember."&nbsp; Clem responded with pleasant naivete.&nbsp; "And, as I'm sure a man of your education and stature can understand, after conferring with the representative at Wonka Enterprises and lodging a formal complaint right beneath his gums I'm left to question the everlasting nature of such a sweet specimen."<br><br>"Mmhm."<br><br>"Initially I begged the question 'do Gobstoppers dream of confectionery sheep?' but now it seems the responsibility lies solely on my taste buds or, perhaps, my brains interpretation of the bio-electric signals they are sending."&nbsp; Clem arose swiftly belying his youthful nature while wearing such a venerable countenance and approached the doctor with startling alacrity.&nbsp; With his hairy, bear ass hanging out of the hospital gown, the cold, sterile walls reflecting futility back into his plea's reflection.&nbsp; Herr doktor, visibly shaken, taken aback, and excepting of his personal-space debacle listened plaintively with a raised eyebrow and a ready backpedal.&nbsp; "There's something terribly wrong here.&nbsp; Can't you feel it?&nbsp; There's nothing out there!&nbsp; Nothing!"&nbsp; He gripped the doctor's arms with the strength of a younger man and eyed him warily.&nbsp; "You feel it too don't you?"&nbsp; His voice lowered and he looked about with a furtive gesture, "tis okay, I'll keep it to myself.&nbsp; No need to alarm the flock."<br><br>Over the man's shoulder he could have sworn, had he not induced a sugar-high, that he had just seen the folded wings and lissome form of a cherubic host.<br><br>"Wait, what kind of hospital is this?" Clemenza hissed suspiciously.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Writersblockade</strong> on <strong>11-12-2010, 16:58:00</strong>
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				<strong>Edward Riley&nbsp; - Downtown Gilead: Walking the Walk</strong>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The city was heating up, but Riley wouldn’t have known it. everything just seemed to merge into the other, and he couldn’t get a fix on why he felt so disjointed. And what the hell was with his reflection? What was happening to him? Suddenly he stopped. He was on the outskirts of his usual area, even when he walked around for work. It was funny how you only know about where you work and the immediate bubble around it. He was about to walk back when he’d heard the quickly muffled cry of “No!” before the sound of a bottle breaking.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;What happened next was beyond him. He walked in the direction of the sound. Walked like he knew something was wrong. It was a little like an out of body experience, because he wanted to go the other way and couldn’t. He was compelled to go to that alley, like something wasn’t giving him a choice. He had enough control to see his reflection in a car he passed by. It was him again. The soldier. It was all too strange to come to grips with. He wanted to leave badly…it didn’t involve him, he didn’t have to be there. There was something else though, more powerful. He needed to be there, was looking for the obvious danger. Yearned to vanquish it.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But by the time he got to the alley, the feeling was gone. He’d had control over his body again. he thought he might be able to just leave without anyone noticing, but the assigned lookout challenged him with a loud “You gotta problem, man?”. Riley stood there. He didn’t know why but he just…stood there, like his mind was processing the question in every context. The second time the man asked, he did so with the sudden sound of a switchblade to add emphasis to it. Riley looked at him, a little confused, but answered “Yeah…I do.”<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With that he began to walk closer. The lookout gave a quick glance to the other two guys holding the woman against the wall and said “got a fucking hero over here…” and walked to meet Riley. Each step Riley took towards the man made him tingle, until that tingle travelled down his right arm. He thought it was nerves until flashes of blue light appeared in the darkened alley. He noticed the lookout’s sudden stop, but Riley kept walking…needed to keep walking. “Hey! Step the fuck back!” the lookout said, his voice laced more with fear than command.&nbsp; It didn’t matter in the slightest, since Riley wasn’t quite himself today.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With a punch, the gathering sparks of power in his hand turned to a force in and of itself. Before the lookout could react, his body was propelled to the side, where he collided with the wall and collapsed. After taking a moment to look at his unconscious body, Riley’s eyes made their way to the two holding the woman. One left at a run, but the other grabbed the woman and took out his own blade. Before he could put it to her throat, Riley gave another punch, but this time it extended into a solid streak of light. Blue energy pierced the man’s knife arm at the wrist, and he cried out before dropping the knife. Riley walked closer and kept the man’s arm pierced when he looked to the startled and very confused woman. “Leave” He said, and it wouldn’t be known if it was the overall situation, or the look in his eyes as he said it, but she hauled it back outside…into the light. <br><br>Riley then had time to regard the last man. Huffing through the pain, the man asked him “what the hell are you?” to which Riley honestly replied “I don’t know”. He wanted to kill him…he didn’t know why, but the idea seemed so&nbsp; tempting…so…adequate. In the end, however, he couldn’t do it “I suggest you take yourself and your friend back there to the hospital. Please don’t let me see you again.” he said, with a hint of sadness in his voice. Something was off…every fiber of his being craved the judgment, but he could not deliver…not now. The energy left the man’s wrist, and though no mark showed, it would be about a week before he felt right using it. he didn’t know how he knew that…he just did. <br><br>Standing silently as the man roused the lookout, they both hobbled out of the alley as fast as they could in their condition, and still he stood. The charge still pulsed and flashed around his arm and hand, and the blue was more vibrant than anything he’s ever seen. It somehow seemed more real to him than even the alley he stood in, but it couldn’t last. As the thirst for justice fade, so did its power, and Riley was able to stand as the last flashes of brilliant blue faded to nothing. He walked out of the alley and back to work, feeling just a little different. He didn’t realize it, but that moment would start a chain reaction that would turn his life upside down.<br><br>On the upside…it appears as though he wasn’t crazy, though now he had a thousand and one other questions.<br><br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Starlequin</strong> on <strong>12-12-2010, 23:39:25</strong>
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				<strong>Samantha Cole -- Ambulance Bay 2 -- Everyone deserves a last chance</strong><br><br>Sam's eyes focused a little more on the newcomer, and more importantly on the ragdoll figure in her arms. A heavy sigh escaped her lips and she shook her head, weary, but after a moment she squared her shoulders and half-climbed, half-tumbled out of the ambulance. Maybe there was no winged woman standing next to her, and maybe there was. Maybe the woman with (a young boy? A small man?) in her arms was nothing but a figment of her imagination. Or maybe they weren't. It was entirely possible the whole 'wings' thing was just some weird embellishment brought on by her exhausted brain, and she was just looking at a desperate woman needing help for her injured child. And the glow might have been just...<br><br>Alright, the glow was still kinda freaky.<br><br>In the end it didn't really matter, because Sam couldn't, wouldn't risk turning someone away if she could help them. Not even in her dreams. As the woman drew closer Sam turned and began clearing away some of the scattered equipment from the ambulance floor, and laid out the makeshift backboard. She reached for her walkie, but after a couple of clicks realized the batteries were nearly drained. '<em>Ugh, great. Cheap piece of crap. God forbid the bean counters pony up a few extra bucks to get radios that actually work when you need them,</em>' Sam thought, disgusted. Still, there was nothing for it. She'd take a look at the victim and try to get him as stable as possible, then make a run for help when she was able.<br><br>The raven-haired beauty was forgotten momentarily as she turned back to the approaching woman, who was now more 'arrived' than 'approaching'. Sam snapped on a new pair of rubber gloves as she gestured for the woman to set the patient in the cleared space and spoke, trying her best to keep her voice as soothing and tremor-free as possible. The lady didn't seem to be in shock, but better not to take chances.<br><br>"Ma'am, are you injured? Can you tell me what happened? Is this your son? Does he have any aller--whoa!"<br><br>Her eyes almost fell out of her head when she got her first clear look at the victim. Cuts and burns riddled his flesh, whole sections practically charred to the bone, and his frame was pitifully shrunken from what was most likely malnutrition. One eye held a spectacularly gruesome starburst of exploded capillaries, and the other looked to have been gouged with a skil saw. Pieces of meat were literally falling from his bones, and several of the bones themselves seemed almost pulverized. Sam had never seen anyone so mangled before, certainly not with a heartbeat. <br><br>A faint but powerful odor of...sulfur?...permeated the bay, and Sam had to steel herself to keep from vomiting on the floor. As best she could tell, the patient seemed to be close in age to the woman who'd brought him in, and despite the damage he'd suffered she could see little resemblance in their facial features. So. Not blood relatives, then. Alright, so probably no medical history to work with, but that was still doable. Besides, at this point worrying about an allergic reaction was probably moot.<br><br>Sam clambered back up into the ambulance and began digging through the small cabinets looking for bandages, antiseptic, vials of morphine and fresh syringes, and began the tedious and delicate work of holding someone back from the brink of death. A pair of scissors snipped through the ragged clothes and exposed his chest, and Sam started swabbing and dabbing with gauze and alcohol pads, cleaning the wounds as best she could. A pathetic groan erupted from the man's lips, and she leaned down to speak reassuringly to him. <br><br>"Sir? Can you hear me? Sir, you're in a hospital, you're going to be ok, do you hear me? We're going to get you fixed up good as new, alright?" As she pulled back and began drawing up an initial dose of morphine to dull the man's obvious pain, she glanced over at the woman (women?) standing nearby. "Ma'am, please, if you're not injured could I ask you to run over there and press the little green button on the box by the door, and tell whoever answers that we need some help in here? I'm not sure I'll be able to stabilize him on my own."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>19-12-2010, 21:54:42</strong>
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				Aeris's (Aerith's) Theme - Final Fantasy 7 (Advent Children) (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lxRIxovS7nQ#)<br><div class="floatright">(http://images.mirror.co.uk/upl/article/13298887/2008/06/12/12255235.jpg)</div>Clemenza Amichevole ~ Gilead Hospital Emergency Room ~ It is a good day to die!<br><br>A growing, growling unease spread across herr doktor's suspicion; it was a malignant blight -- both pox and cancer -- upon the cameral nature of the firmament.&nbsp; Clemenza's boundless spirit of juvenile joviality brimmed to near teeming, burbling and boiling past his ward's psychic screen.&nbsp; It was obvious, now, that the sterile, stark coat before him meant well but boded equally unwell.&nbsp; The robust Italian found himself admiring the man's aplomb while, at the same time, appreciating his own state of airy undress.&nbsp; His exposed posterior bristled with the thought but smiled reflexively with such complementary commentary; he determined not to immediately don his apparel after the evaluation and visit himself upon the world.<br><br>"Ah, Mr. Am...Clem," the man garbled, "Your condition appears to be beyond our ability to effectively treat in this facility.&nbsp; I am recommending that you be transferred to our advanced psychiatric ward for further observation, testing, and evaluation.&nbsp; I can arrange for your transfer immediately."&nbsp; He beamed such a guiltless, guileless grimace that Clem had the startlingly clown-like visage wiped from his mind by a prize-fighter's round of toothless pugilism.&nbsp; Such thoughts vacated his mind's premises with blinding alacrity but the lingering aftereffect ringed his standoffish suitor with halo after halo of liberated libations.&nbsp; The draught he quaffed slaked evermore and thirsted ever after.<br><br>"Well, I must thank you, doktor, for your commitment to the Hippocratic Oath.&nbsp; The reputation of this hospital is well-deserved, indeed."&nbsp; Clem paused for a moment to let his compliment gestate.&nbsp; "I must be on my way, you see.&nbsp; It appears I've come at the wrong time."<br><br>"I'm sorry?" queried the incredulous reply.<br><br>"Be well," he nodded and smiled.&nbsp; Clemenza turned and tucked his apparel neatly into the crook of one bare arm in coagulated ball of linen before striding confidently toward the door.&nbsp; He nodded once toward the nameless, faceless glob at the desk before announcing, "I was not ready."&nbsp; Equal parts cryptic and solemn, a splash of hubris, and a dash of hamartia -- shaken, not stirred.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lady Kitsune</strong> on <strong>20-12-2010, 08:08:09</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://i814.photobucket.com/albums/zz64/kumiho333/Pretty%20Gals/fanbingbing11.jpg)</div><div style="text-align: right;">________________________♥____ <strong><em><span style="font-family: papyrus;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Izuriel, the Lady Seraphim</span></span></em></strong></div><br><div style="text-align: right;">_______________♥____<em><strong><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">Location:</span></span></strong>Nick over here....Lil' angels over there...</em></div><br><br>"Awww, Nick.&nbsp; You're gonna leave, just like that.&nbsp; Pay if you like," she said rising and standing at his side.&nbsp; She held him there with her hand on his arm.&nbsp; Her touch was light and she didn't bother to hold back the soothing aura of her angellicy.&nbsp; "I suppose it is too be expected.&nbsp; You don't get your way and then you run away.&nbsp; Really, one of these days you are going to have to at least finish this conversation.&nbsp; The one I'm sure you really want to have.&nbsp; And it isn't duty.&nbsp; It's love.&nbsp; Do you even remember what it's like?&nbsp; Have you even ever felt it once?&nbsp; And I don't mean the love of Our Father.&nbsp; I mean true love.&nbsp; I dished it out everyday.&nbsp; I felt it, even if only through others.&nbsp; Perhaps, He knew it was too much for me, that I so badly wanted it of my own and that is my punishment.&nbsp; You want to halve Gilead.&nbsp; I want Armageddon.&nbsp; If it comes, there will be no need for Gilead.&nbsp; We will be free.&nbsp; Don't you see the loop hole, Nick.&nbsp; If it happens, we get to start again.....even you."<br><br>Her look had softened.&nbsp; She wanted him to see what she saw.&nbsp; They had been doing this for so long that there was a kind of camaraderie in there rivalry.&nbsp; She didn't hate him and she could even call him friend.&nbsp; Of course, she would never tell him that.&nbsp; She couldn't.&nbsp; He had been such a great Angel and even in his demonic state, he was to be feared but she felt something akin to sorrow in him.&nbsp; She couldn't put her finger on it, just that there was something that seemed to bother him over these last years.<br><br>"There are things afoot.&nbsp; I shouldn't tell you.&nbsp; But you know me.&nbsp; I like things fair.&nbsp; I'll see you around, Nick.&nbsp; Probably sooner than you think."&nbsp; Izuriel leaned up on her tip toes and gently kissed Nick's cheek.&nbsp; She left a glowing ruby kiss stain of her lipstick and as she stepped back, she smiled.&nbsp; Then in a swirl of grey, black tipped feathers...she was gone.<br><br>**************************<br><br>Meanwhile, at a hospital in Gilead.......<br><br>Izuriel looked up, her eyes glazing for a moment as her other self was apart of her once more.&nbsp; She looked at what was unfolding.&nbsp; She was impressed that Sam was holding up under such odd occurrences.&nbsp; She really liked this one.&nbsp; Such potential.&nbsp; She would have to harvest this one.&nbsp; She had the feeling that Sam was a very important Nephilim.&nbsp; <br><br>Izuriel moved to hover over Sam as she worked on the Infernal.&nbsp; She bent down and let her wings drift and brush against the side of her body, the soft sweet scent of vanilla and cinnamon bursting in the air.&nbsp; She watched a moment and then only became more amused.&nbsp; When the girl said she couldn't stabilize the man, she wanted to laugh.&nbsp; She put a finger under the girl's chin and guided her to look Izuriel in the eye.<br><br>"Dear,girl.&nbsp; Do you not know that tonight seems wondrous.&nbsp; You can save him.&nbsp; All by yourself.&nbsp; Just do as you did before.&nbsp; She straightened and looked at Vorianne.&nbsp; Such a precious Arch Angel.&nbsp; Her precious Arch Angel.&nbsp; She could see the devotion in Vorianne's eyes.&nbsp; She both nurtured it and ignored it.&nbsp; <br><br>She walked over to Vorianne and put her hands upon each shoulder and looked the Angel over.&nbsp; Her eyes narrowed as she felt the range of emotions.&nbsp; Her face smoothed out and she pulled the Arch Angel into a warm embrace.&nbsp; She did not fell like anger today.&nbsp; No, today was for Mercy.&nbsp; "You have done well.&nbsp; Maybe not what I would have done but it suffices.&nbsp; Strive for a bit of restraint.&nbsp; Messy only makes others notice.&nbsp; Now, I look forward to your report later, for now.....we watch."<br><br>Izuriel turned away and faced Sam.&nbsp; She crossed her arms and cocked her hip, a waiting pose.&nbsp; For this was a test.&nbsp; Would she have faith to try or would she let herself be stuck in the mundane.&nbsp; Decisions, decisions, always one must choose.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Starlequin</strong> on <strong>30-12-2010, 20:30:33</strong>
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				<strong>Samantha Cole -- Ambulance Bay 2 -- First steps are always the hardest</strong><br><br>Not enough gauze. Not enough bandages. Not enough antiseptic. Not enough not enough not enough! His pulse was weak and thready, and some of his wounds looked like they were already reaching the preliminary stages of infection. Others looked like...well, almost like they'd been cauterized. Sam's shaking arms kept the already-bloodsoaked gauze pads pressed against as many of the oozing wounds as she could manage in a last-ditch effort to staunch the man's blood loss. But keeping him alive much longer was one fight the exhausted EMT was pretty certain she simply couldn't win.<br><br>'I don't think a hundred doctors could save this guy now; he doesn't need a medic, he needs a miracle,' Sam thought grimly. Shadows flitted overhead, and her brow furrowed in confusion until she glanced up to see the impossibly lovely dark-haired lady standing over them. The odor of sulfur was quickly fading, but in its place arose the scent of pine needles in winter, and her grandmother's fresh apple turnovers. Sam felt the woman slip a finger under her chin and pull her face upward to meet her eyes, and even though her touch was gentle as falling snow, it was also as inexorable as an avalanche. Her eyes were so comforting, and Sam felt a sudden surge of warmth and peace wash over her entire being.<br><br>"Dear girl. Do you not know that tonight seems wondrous? You can save him. All by yourself. Just do as you did before."<br><br>Oh, her voice. So beautiful, so harmonious. So...heavenly. But, what did she mean? Sam wanted to break down and sob in frustration when the lady broke their eye contact and moved away, taking those soothing sensations of warmth and safety with her. Almost immediately, she crashed back into the cold and unforgiving waters of reality, and fresh tears formed in her eyes. '<em>Do as I did before? I don't know what I did before! I...I can't save him...he's going to die, and it's...it's my fault</em>,' she thought. She felt powerless, and more alone than she could remember ever feeling in her life. A man was about to die, and all she could do was mop up his blood and listen to what may or may not have been a delusional daydream.<br><br>Except that her hands were glowing again.<br><br>Sam gaped in confused, slightly horrified fascination at the shimmering sparkles that swirled around her fingers, certain at first it was just a trick of the light playing through her bleary vision. But as her tears dried and the glow remained, she jerked her eyes back and forth between the women standing nearby and her own hands. "What?! How do I...how is this...I mean..." Sam looked down again at the man on the gurney, then back to her hands. Slowly, with the utmost deliberate care she could manage, she lowered her hands onto the man's chest, touching him gingerly as though either he or she might break at any moment.<br><br>"Somehow, I have a feeling this is really going to hurt..."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Esoteric Myobi</strong> on <strong>31-12-2010, 18:48:20</strong>
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				<div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/01/Taya.jpg)</div><div style="text-align: right;">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/23/Stamp.gif) <span style="font-family: pristina;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 25pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>T</strong>aya, the <strong>I</strong>urus <strong>F</strong>ormator</span></span> (http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/23/Stamp.gif)</div><div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Currently:</strong> Gilead Memorable Park...<em>Alice, the Mad Hatter, the Cheshire cat...now where'd that white rabbit go again...?</em></div><br>Shenovi had always struck Taya as an odd one. It wasn't every day when someone approached her in hopes of forming a contract. Or perhaps power hungry would be a better term for him. Bored? Perhaps. There was no questioning the fact that he enjoyed toying around with people. The poor unfortunate souls...<br><br>Thinking back, Shenovi's antics seemed rather tame in comparison to the destruction she'd seen the Prince and Seraphim bring about. Now those two -- heh, she couldn't help but smirk a bit -- like an old married couple, it was never pleasant to stay when they quarreled. A building might topple or a crater appear in the ground. While those were mostly due to Izuriel (The lady has some serious anger management issues but those brownies? Yum.) the Prince wasn't one to fool around either. The Prince, hrm. Now what alias was he going by now? A visit to B.L.Z. Bubb's would probably help refresh her memory. <br><br>Nibbling absently as she picked at the decorations on her sundae, she stared uninterestedly at the 'Cheshire Cat'. Just another guest to the tea party, though one with no invitation. Scrutinizing him for a bit, a raised brow was her silent response that she saw no resemblance. It was probably all in the red demon's head, she could practically see him rearranging the entire story as he fit people into roles on a whim. Apparently the only similarity the bound demon had with the Cheshire Cat was the mutual hatred of water. Scalding hot tea that not only burned but left the skin glistening a harsh red as steam licked at the cool air. She wondered if demons looked like that after taking a dip in the baths of hell.<br><br>As the cup of tea was pushed towards her across the table, she listened idly to his response. A finger traveled lazily around the rim of the cup, circling slowly before finally picking up the teacup and cradling it in her hands. "Hmm..." She hummed softly to herself, as if still lost in thought. "All fragile creatures. All fragile beings. Is it because everything is so fragile, because it may all disappear in a second, that many will strive so hard to live?" Glancing up at Shenovi, her eyes met his over the top of her teacup, fragrant steam wafting up between them. "You have lovely pink eyes you know. Like glittering jewels." Cold and hard, she had seen demons with eyes that seemed almost human. Her own eyes had taken on a faraway look, distant as if she weren't completely there. <br><br>"And what is life? What does it mean to live and be alive?" Questions that she had asked before, questions that she had never found answers to, questions that she didn't expect to be answered anymore. Having never had the chance to live, Taya had spent her time in Gilead pondering the same things over and over. Some may have come to guess at her existence, at her previous 'life'. Others still regarded her as a mystery. "Is it the ability to feel pain and pleasure? Or is it the capability of dying?" She didn't respond to Shenovi's offer of brewing more tea, neither denying it or encouraging it. Taya wasn't a fan of pain, but she wasn't afraid of it either. Pleasure was rare and death? Death seemed to elude her no matter how she tried to move on. Escaping from Gilead, from her task as the Iurus Formator...both impossible dreams.<br><br><div style="text-align: right;"><strong>Currently:</strong> Downtown Gilead...<em>Party over here, or party over there...?</em></div><br>Ah, to be everywhere and nowhere all at once. Is this what it means to be a mere entity? To be 'unreal'? <br><br>Just as she could still 'see' and 'feel' the Taya at Gilead Memorable Park, so she could clearly see and feel the hectic life of Downtown Gilead. The tea party seemed dreamlike from her current point of view, but something had caught her interest. So many sparks were gathering...<br><br>Standing in the middle of a busy intersection, she was precisely in the center of Downtown and from where she stood the sparks were spread evenly around her. A cluster there, and the rest were scattered throughout the city. People rushed past her, paying no mind to her as she pondered her next location. There was always the option of flitting off to them all...but what was the fun in that? With each split she became less of herself and more of her surroundings, breaking away and returning was always painful. Not physically, but mentally. The loss of being in touch with and experiencing so much...Taya now preferred to keep her jumps to a minimum. <br><br>"Mercy Hospital, what's so interesting about you that's brought the angels over?" Elsewhere...another Nephilim awakening, and then that dark void, that cold flame flickering before vanishing for the moment. Now where has the Prince run off to?
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>05-01-2011, 02:09:20</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ludovico Einaudi - Ora (by Bojan Stipic) (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZI2cQDnMYpU#ws)<br><br><strong>Clemenza Amichevole ~ Gilead Memorial Hospital Triage Egress ~ Once upon a time...</strong><br><br>The hospital, it seemed, was intent upon keeping him within its sterile confines.&nbsp; The walls were pained and painted, the windows were bars of gray steel, the orderlies and nurses were guards and sentries, the doctors were wardens.&nbsp; The spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch kept him vigilant as ever of the yawing spectacle that enveloped him whole.&nbsp; <em>The price of freedom is eternal vigilance.</em>&nbsp; The broad-backed constitution beamed a posterior puckered proudly and prominently figured in the hoosegow susurration.&nbsp; What were they if not inmates?&nbsp; What was his sentence?&nbsp; How long would he await punishment?&nbsp; Purgatorily-punitive procrastination.&nbsp; The conclusion was as stirring as the sounds of his sibilantly slippered feet sliding along the tiled floor.&nbsp; The wad of clothing tucked neatly into the crook of his arm served only to remind him of the loafers held lovingly in the other.<br><br>Again he found himself disoriented, absently missing the confectionery's delight, but disoriented nonetheless.&nbsp; A long, serpentine corridor slithered ahead of him with a series of interconnected spinal columns.&nbsp; Wending his way through the labyrinthine hallways numbed his sense of self the way each white-clad encounter numbed his sense of direction.&nbsp; A hospital.&nbsp; This was a place of God.&nbsp; A prison.&nbsp; This was a place of the Devil.&nbsp; Triage, home of only the most saintly.&nbsp; Triage, the river Styx.&nbsp; Clem allowed himself to be surprised by how few people took an interest in him, his peculiar clothing, and his evidently aimless wanderlust.&nbsp; The pep in his swishing-slipper step made the gait of his locomotion rather startling to an onlooker.&nbsp; He appeared as if to float with the help of winged talaria woven tightly about his ankles.<br><br>As he rounded the corner, through the double-sliding glass doors, kept open by the Divine Providence of motion-sensors, Clem espied something wondrous.&nbsp; A glowing white nimbus limned an angel.&nbsp; She was clearly put on this earth for a reason.&nbsp; There, in ambulance bay two, something remarkable transpired.&nbsp; A woman looked down upon an inert form with the transcendent gaze of a Madonna to her child.&nbsp; She laid her hands upon the victim.<br><br>Clemenza counted himself among the lucky for being in the presence of a miracle as he slowly approached with a face befuddled by wonder and innocence.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>twistedlace</strong> on <strong>10-01-2011, 04:32:07</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Vorianne - Mercy Hospital - Dealing with an Uninvited Guest</strong><br><br>The angel bowed her head at the carefully metered rebuke from her Lady, at once both elated by the praise and intensely&nbsp; . . .frustrated.&nbsp; It was not her place to either question or defy her mistress.&nbsp; Even thoughts of such led down the path of Damnation, the same that those she condemned had walked.&nbsp; As an incarnation of justice and vengeance, such thoughts were as foreign to her as mercy was to an Infernal.&nbsp; And yet . . .and yet she was unable to full banish the frustration that welled in her.<br><br>What would her Lady have of her?&nbsp; To stand idly by while other side corrupted the innocent, and dragged the wicked even further into their hell?&nbsp; To <em>not</em> strike against . . . . . .Vorianne quickly banished such thoughts once more, soul wracked with the internal conflict that never escaped the deeper recesses of her heart.&nbsp; No.&nbsp; She would be faithful.&nbsp; She would be dutiful and obey her Lady.<br><br>She watched as the nephelim battled with her own self doubt, the arch angel's heart reaching out in rare moment of sympathy for the conflict in the mortal's soul.&nbsp; A conflict she knew all too well and one Test that she prayed the Nephelim would find easier than her own.&nbsp; Bowing her head slightly she added her own supplications, praying not for the well being of the Infernal, but that the Nephelim would find the strength to embrace the Light.<br><br>She continued such for several minutes, remaining half kneeling before her attention was drawn from the tableau before her by movement at the edge of her vision.&nbsp; The doors into the interior of the hospital had whisked silently open and a man had emerged, clad in the hospital gown that placed him as a patient of the mortal apothecary.&nbsp; She watched him from beneath the shadows of her hood, eyes glowing a soft blue once more for a bare instant as she glimpsed his soul.&nbsp; Glimpsed, and reeled in mental confusion at what she beheld.<br><br>The man, as mortals reckoned age, had to have been in his sixties at his death as they often retained their previous life's age when they entered Gilead.&nbsp; She had seen the souls of many of the elder, and often recoiled at the filth and much that such had taken into their souls over their decades of life.&nbsp; But . . .but this man.&nbsp; A purity that she rarely saw outside of children . . . .an a simpleness of thought that bespoke a childlike disposition as well. And&nbsp; . . . another nearly Awakened, but further from the cusp than the medic seemed to be.<br><br>She felt the rebuke that had almost escaped her lips die there as she rose from her kneeling position, hand drifting back away from her sword as she walked slowly over to the man, hooded eyes continuing to regard him as she stood between him and her Lady.&nbsp; Placing a hand on his shoulder she spoke as&nbsp; . . . gently as she could.<br><br>"This is not your place, Neph . . . my friend.&nbsp; Go back inside, let the healers attend to you." she murmured, her soft voice barely a whisper in the reverent chapel that, for the moment, was the entrance to the hospital.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Starlequin</strong> on <strong>14-01-2011, 21:57:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Sam Cole -- Ambulance Bay 2 -- The agony of being (re)born</strong><br><br>Pain. Lots of it. Later, if Samantha was asked to describe what was going through her mind in the instant her hands touched the man's flesh, that would be her answer. It felt as if her entire body had been dipped in burning shards of broken glass, and it was only getting started. She could feel wounds opening in her skin, muscle and deep tissue splitting apart under the merciless caress of nonexistent razorblades. The scent of brimstone and burning flesh exploded in her nostrils, and her vision went cloudy as her brain dimly registered the sensation of flames climbing lazily all over her form. Hysterical sobs wracked Sam's body, and she wanted nothing on earth more than to curl up into a little ball and pray for the pain to end.<br><br>But she couldn't tear her hands away.<br><br>Tears fell free as rain, and her voice strained with horrific screams as the pain kept coming. Sam was certain she wouldn't, couldn't survive, that the weight of the agony would grind her into dust and leave her nothing but a memory. Flashes of light strobed in her vision, blues and reds and greens that danced and spun in sickly dizzying patterns. Were the ambulance's lights on? She could swear she heard heavy bootsteps. And gasoline, and melted rubber. And the smell-taste of copper, heavy and cloying. Out of a distant memory, she heard men's voices, mumbled shouts and tightly suppressed panic.<br><br>"<em>Hang on, Sam</em>!" "<em>We're losing her, she's got--</em>" Needles piercing skin, plastic on her lips. "<em>Get that spine board over here!</em>" "<em>Sam, can you hear me? You're--</em>" Jostled and bounced, hurts so much. "<em>She's not going to make it, her injuries are--</em>" "<em>Goddamned drunk driver, if he lives I'm gonna--</em>" "<em>She's crashing, get the cart!</em>" Jolt after jolt, heart feels so tired. "<em>We lost her. I'm calling it; 3:22..</em>."<br><br>The light continued to shine, brighter and warmer than before. The pain was still terrifying, a ferocious beast that raged and roared and gnashed its teeth, but now it was growing further and further away on the opposite side of an expanding gulf.<br><br>Knowledge flooded into Sam's thoughts. Memories. How her muscles had ached that night, how she'd strained to help lift an overweight man out of the wreckage of his car. How her partner had screamed for her to get out of the way, horror thickening his voice in inhuman ways. The feeling of steel and plastic slamming against her hip, the pain of the left side of her skeleton crumbling like a house of cards under a jackhammer. And the final, blessed cessation of pain that saw her slip into darkness as warm and safe as her mother's womb.<br><br>And then she woke up here, in this mock-place, and went on as if nothing happened. But it did. It had all happened, all the things she'd half-remembered, the lost memories so faint they were wisps and smoke. And now she knew, she knew everything her life her home her brother her death but oh God the pain had flown across the canyon and it was tearing into her again and--<br><br>'<em><strong>Samantha</strong></em>.'<br><br>What?<br><br>'<em><strong>Everything is going to be all right, Samantha</strong></em>.'<br><br>But it hurts, it hurts so much!<br><br>'<em><strong>I know, little one. I know. But I promise, Samantha. You are going to live through this</strong></em>.'<br><br>Why...who are you?<br><br>'<em><strong>You know who I am, my child. You have always known. You are simply hearing me for the first time</strong></em>.'<br><br>The light finally faded away, and Sam's palms released their preternatural grip on the man's nearly healed body. She fell back and collapsed onto the ambulance bench, her body jerking and spasming as the pain continued to roll over her. Through her tears, she saw the black-haired woman-<br><br>-<span class="bbc_u"><em>angel</em></span>-<br><br>and attempted to reach out to her, sobbing pitifully. Her voice was cracked and pathetically weak as she whimpered softly.<br><br>"<span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">...please...h-help me...</span>?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Jago</strong> on <strong>19-01-2011, 02:57:56</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Clemenza Amichevole ~ Hospital Chapel ~ Witnessing a Miracle</strong><br><br>Opus III﻿ ft. Kirsty Hawkshaw - Its A Fine Day (Leon Bolier Remix) (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hAnn2CGL0ms#ws)<br><br><strong>"This is not your place, Neph . . . my friend.&nbsp; Go back inside, let the healers attend to you." she murmured, her soft voice barely a whisper in the reverent chapel that, for the moment, was the entrance to the hospital.</strong><br><br>"As fate would have it I'm no longer in need of healing.&nbsp; The attending physician assured me," he smiled.&nbsp; Curiosity clawed at him like niggling cat's nails into expectant flesh.&nbsp; Had he just witnessed a miracle?&nbsp; The room spun.&nbsp; With a last, longing look he turned to usher himself back into the hospital.&nbsp; A wave of awe rolled over him.&nbsp; The soft, almost angelic voice struck a choir's chord within him and plucked his heart's strings.&nbsp; <em>Divine divinity.</em>&nbsp; Clem almost couldn't resist turning and looking over his shoulder as the scene receded.&nbsp; A tear formed in the corner of his eye but deigned not to flute the flume.<br><br>"Where shall the newborn go from here?" he asked himself.&nbsp; It was a fine day today.&nbsp; It will be a fine night tonight.<br><br>Each footstep brought him closer to home.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Divine Misdemeanors - Gilead</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lady Kitsune</strong> on <strong>22-01-2011, 02:53:09</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatright">(http://i814.photobucket.com/albums/zz64/kumiho333/Pretty%20Gals/fanbingbing11.jpg)</div><div style="text-align: right;">________________________♥____ <strong><em><span style="font-family: papyrus;" class="bbc_font"><span style="font-size: 18pt;" class="bbc_size">Izuriel, the Lady Seraphim</span></span></em></strong></div><br><div style="text-align: right;">_______________♥____<em><strong><span style="font-size: 10pt;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">Location:</span></span>In front of the Hospital, in the presence of a Miracle</strong></em></div><br><br>Izuriel's face lit with a half smile.&nbsp; She watched as the young woman put her hands upon the dying Infernal.&nbsp; The soft glow.&nbsp; The flux of power.&nbsp; Izuriel shivered in anticipation of the Beholding.&nbsp; Here was a true power.&nbsp; This one would be great among the angels.&nbsp; Alas, choices must be made and careful she must be if to win the woman to her side.&nbsp; The Nephilim always took the Beholding differently.&nbsp; Some went insane from the knowing, some withdrew.&nbsp; The strong made the choice.<br><br>She tilted her head towards the man who approached.&nbsp; So soon, another.&nbsp; Well, this certainly was an auspicious night.&nbsp; She cast a quick glance to Vorianne and shook her head.&nbsp; His presence could be just as important.&nbsp; She let her smile warm, to shine upon the Nephilim who dared to come close, to assuage his curiosity.&nbsp; <br><br>"Clemenza," she breathed.&nbsp; "Come.&nbsp; Witness.&nbsp; It is the choices of this night that will bring us closer to the Coming.&nbsp; Be welcome, friend, and know."&nbsp; Her voice rang of omen and prophecy.&nbsp; The energy in the air rose as Sam continued on her course of discovery.&nbsp; Still, Izuriel waited.&nbsp; She must know.&nbsp; She stood still, her own soft light pulsing, her form only revealed to those within the small circle before the entrance.<br><br>"The time comes soon, sweet Vorianne.&nbsp; I felt it in the winds this morn.&nbsp; Soon, but not yet.&nbsp; We must gather them to us.&nbsp; You and Saziel, we must watch for them," she mouthed the words but only Vorianne heard.&nbsp; It was a silent voice that echoed like the vastness of space.&nbsp; She let her attention focus on the girl once more.&nbsp; This was it.&nbsp; She was Beholden.&nbsp; There was no turning back.<br><br><em>"...please...h-help me...?"</em><br><br>With those pitying words and the look of a lost lamb, Izuriel answered.&nbsp; Wings of gray and tipped in black sprouted forth from behind her.&nbsp; Rustling and expanding, spread wide.&nbsp; She glowed with the light of a soft sun.&nbsp; This was a subdued form.&nbsp; Only a full angel could look upon her true form and not have their eyes burned from their sockets.&nbsp; She knelt before Sam and reached out and touched a cheek.&nbsp; Her smile was inviting and caring, eyes that shone with a light that spoke of how everything was going to be alright.&nbsp; She gathered the girl into her arms, feeling the vulnerability.<br><br>"Dear Samantha, you have performed a great miracle.&nbsp; With this, you can help those from your old life and even the entire world.&nbsp; Do not be overwhelmed.&nbsp; Your burdens are shared.&nbsp; We stand with you.&nbsp; <em>I</em> will stand with you.&nbsp; I will...help you."&nbsp; Izuriel enveloped Samantha in a feeling of love and warmth.&nbsp; "This world needs you and I need you.&nbsp; Everything will be alright, now."
			</dd>
		</dl>
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