☩ The White Faces ☩ IC ☩

|| The OOC ||

Gabriel

Date: November 9th, 2003
Time: 2:41 P.M.

"Evelyn... The world hath bestoweth such a cruel and unruly curse upon your soul. Their tongues of fury lash out upon your grave, as it is nothing but the remains of trash and simple dust. Would thou be so kind as to cometh in thy Lord's embrace?" Her voice was clear and rung like sweet wind chimes when soft breezes came in. Her eyes were gentle like the meadow of purity, it's flowers in bloom and swaying. This was indeed St. Gabriel, the Angel of Death, and certainly, she had stuck to her title as she coaxed a poor victimized soul to the Gates of Heaven. But this wasn't just any normal victimized soul. No, it was contaminated by a White Face and even though these people had heavenly beings in front of them, they were still reluctant on going to an eternal lifetime of luxury and easy tidings. Her lip quivering, Evelyn simply sobbed and shook like a wet dog, her face going downcast as streams of blonde hair brushed against her forehead. The seraph simply put her soft, gentle fingers on the adolescent's face, brushing away the tears and politely smiling. It greatly pained her to see humans go so young and knowing it was a self death made it more painful. When Gabriel had first heard of the White Faces(which was probably around WWII), her small, beating heart simply tore to pieces as she watched the destruction unfold on Earth. But like a good daughter, she stuck with God the Father and tried her best to fight off White Faces as much as she could, but in vain. On average, about fourteen angels go to Earth every day and fight them off or collect human souls and these are the ones that are strong, that have fought in Heavenly wars and trained since they died or the beginning of time. Now, as the White Face population increases, the angels grow weaker and the human mind grows warier. It's a nasty thing, really. Turning back to Evelyn Greene, Gabriel simply soothed her with soft words and eventually, the teenager stopped crying, truly listening to the words of Gabriel the Archangel. Slowly, Gabriel composed her postured.

"Now, Evelyn Marie Greene, thou art good in heart. However, a scraggly demon hast pursued it and twisted it around, making it something it is not. To solve your horrid problems, you placed a strange device to your head and blew it to bits, correct?" The angel inquired, looking up at the girl with attentive, knowledge-filled eyes. Slightly chuckling, her eyes still puffy, Evelyn nodded a simple "yes", brushing away the leftovers of salty tears with the back of her hand, sniffing a bit. Gabriel sighed and shook her head, as if she pitied Evelyn and looked up at her once more, her pupils slightly shifting to utter despair. "I inquire that the Gates of Heaven shall be always open to you and so will thy Father's arms." With that, the tiny "child" smiled and took her by the hand, her white and neatly feathered wings spreading open like a high school play curtain. The way to Heaven was practically like a new path and as they flew towards a certain bright light, Gabriel couldn't help but frown and have her thoughts get the best of her. She thought of the once barren Earth, as it was so empty and so dark... somber, even. And now that she looked back on it, it didn't seem too bad of what it was now. Back then, it was so simplistic and sure, humans sinned against one another, but now these things were getting craftier by the minute, as they slowly weave their way through the web of Satan, God of Earth. A whist of longing grew in her eyes, as she remembered her older brother's face perfectly... Suddenly, she felt a squeeze of anxiety on her hand and snapped out of her thoughts, looking over at Evelyn, who was now pursuing her lips. Shaking her head, Gabriel smiled and pushed her into Heaven. At first, Evelyn looked back at her, fearful and wide-eyed but when elder angels took her by the hand and complimented her, she followed them with a hesitant nod.

She couldn't help let her mind wander, though, as her bare feet purposely slipped off holy ground, plummeting into pure darkness. Her wings kept her steady, but all she felt was the wind riding up on her back, fiery red hair flying upwards and brushing against her cheek. How many humans have Heaven saved so far in this grueling battle of Demon versus Angel? Surely over a billion, but she had this lingering feeling that White Faces were coming up with a secret plan and- She sighed. Maybe their influence was rapidly falling heavily on her. Paranoia, indeed. When the archangel stopped herself from being pulled by the gravity, her wings beat in a rash fashion and stood on her small toes when she stepped on earthly ground. She knew where she was and had the whole place memorized from top to bottom, to every nook and cranny there was. The rest of the way she planned to walk on foot and admire the rotting and dried up leaves that the trees had to offer before Winter came. Leisurely walking along the dirt road, it seemed to be just like something you would see in an old, inspirational movie or even an abstract painting. Surely a sight to see. When the girl perked her head up to see the white, cloud infested sky, brown leaves covered about half of it, and towered over her like skyscrapers. Frowning, Gabriel walked along, her pure feet brushing away the dead leaves that seemed to resist the ground. Lately, she felt like those leaves, resisting any sort of battle from the demons. She felt as though she was going to fall off any second and join in with the other leaves, becoming unfaithful to God and weak. What composed her being right now, other than endurance and faith? That was all she was really depending on and so far, it only broke her heart, as well as maybe even 3/4 of the angel population. Speaking of angels, though... Her eyes widen as she remembered she was meeting up with Nathaniel today!

Nathaniel the Archangel, St. Nathaniel, or even Nathan to some of the younger and "hip" angels that just came to Heaven, but Gabriel knew who he really was. Despite his irrational and short tempered behavior, he burned Lucifer's wings and scattered the ashes among the Earth, sending the girl into despair but relief. They both played a big part in the War, especially Nathaniel, who she certainly admired. She truly did love him and was always content when in his presence, even if he could cause uproars at times. She still enjoyed his company greatly. Today, they were meeting up in pursuit for White Faces to destroy and send back to the fiery depths of Hell. As of now, they would be staying together more than they did before, since God believed sticking with Gabriel would "put out the flames" or something like that. She couldn't exactly remember that well. All she knew was that her big brother had a behavioral problem and she was expected to fix it. Approaching a large magnolia tree with dead leaves surrounding it, she looked up at it's long and intricate branches, every minute a leaf falling to the grass. They had always met up here when they were fighting, whether in the beginning or the end in their mission, she always felt that they needed to meet up here. It was probably the largest magnolia tree she had ever laid eyes on and she always saw such innocent children climbing the branches, giving no care to the world. It made her feel nostalgic. It maybe even made Nathaniel feel nostalgic too. But she knew that nostalgia and longing were two different things... She longed to be those children. Oblivious of what was happening, smiling and innocent. But no. She could never be that. Because one day, she would be the one to take their lives away from them.

Abatu, the White Face

Date: November 9th, 2003
Time: 3:23 P.M.

Torrents of ominous, white figures danced around in the realm of Hell, their cackles raising and echoing. One of them was Abatu, an old and definitely feared demon known all across Hell and even on Heaven and Earth to some. His sadistically gleeful face just screamed with victory, his coal eyes like buttons, as if they were sewn in my the Devil himself. On his head, he wore a black top hat with a rose needled into it and with the "charm" he gave to humans made it seem like he was a magician. Sure, he was a magician. He could disappear and creep people out. But that was all the tricks that clarified his magic. The rest was just genuine evil and works of Lucifer. Abatu enjoyed every moment he heard scared and terrified screams from his victims... because then, he surely knew he broke them like a toothpick. The human mind is an intricate thing and you have to know which threads to pull to make it function the way you want it. Abatu was a mastermind at that, and, if not, an utter genius. His voice was so low and soothing, mellifluous even, just like a cat. Oh, and the way he curled his fingers in delight as he watched his victim's blood shot eyes widen. He observed them greatly, watching them sleep and wondering what they were dreaming about, as if he didn't already know. They weren't dreaming at all. In fact, they weren't even asleep. It irritated him to be ignored and he admitted he could get a bit loud and scare his victims more than he wanted to. One time, a full grown man even hid under a bed, masking his bravery with sheer anxiety. It was hysterical, but Abatu was aware that his job was at stake, for he was not doing it right. Not that Lucifer would ever fire him, but still... Even he could get paranoid sometimes. Calmly, the kooky old man sat in a chair composed of mahogany and yawned, gazing over at his dancing and demonic brethren.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey! Settle down, you white assed bastards! It's almost night time and we haven't even chosen vulnerable humans to pursue! Yix! Who are you planning on getting tonight, hm?" The White Face acted as if he were a leader and technically he was. Usually, it was the same old routine, over and over and over and over again. Three to five demons torture the humans until they die, they come back, have a little celebration, and move on to the next one. A boring business, Abatu admitted, but necessary to please his Master. Slowly, a long and grotesque-looking Yix made his way up and dipped his head. He was a rather calm fellow, compared to the others, but those were the most dangerous, for inside, they weren't mentally stable at all. Then again, who was mentally stable when it came to Hell? Yix slowly murmured his victim and they all went down the row, practically silencing themselves for questioning, except for a few rambunctious youthful demons. When everyone was through, Abatu picked his shark teeth with a red coated and long, bony finger. Leaving a trace of blood on his white teeth, he licked it off with his tongue and stood up, towering over the demons, putting two hands to his thin hips. "Well, I'm off to Earth for an early start. Besides, I smell..." He raised an eyebrow and turned left, disgusted, "angels." Abatu finished his sentence and with that, he disappeared like a snake. Naturally, the demon hated angels and with many particular reasons, but the biggest one was that his Master had told him to. Just as Gabriel and Nathaniel were loyal to their God, Abatu was loyal to his and has been since the downfall of his poor, forsaken Master. He almost saw that sadistic being as a scary, abusive father. Not that Lucifer ever abused him, but his menacing dagger-like eyes and threats were enough. His Master was the only thing that scared him to the point where he shook and cowered like a submissive dog.

Appearing in America, he particularly liked to move to more rural areas, for he believed that was where the more interesting people settled. But occasionally, he would drop by a city or two. When the demon did, though, scientists were poking needles at his victims and he was somewhat territorial. Peering his white head around corners and trees, spotting different small houses, he was barely visible to the naked human eye. It was almost amazing how he could so simply walk from one place to another in one gargantuan step of teleportation and invisibility at the same time. Abatu was glad that Lucifer had blessed him with such hellish and scary powers. As he came to the last house in a rural town's neighborhood, he couldn't help but walk through the wood walls of a certain house, where he sensed something a bit.. sad. Stepping through, he spotted a man with sable hair that fell to his ears and moonlight, grey eyes, sadly tapping on a piano, creating a wonderful, but tragic composition. When Abatu sat down in his leather chair, the man stopped as the temperature in the room grew colder, but his body temperature grew hotter. Simply smirking, Abatu could already predict the outcome because obviously, the man had already sensed the hell spawn's presence and it had only been seven seconds. This man would be just like his other victims, neither strong, nor weak, nor happy, nor sad. It was all the same. Leaning on his white hand, Abatu yawned and smirked in sadistic delight. The outcome, he could easily see. Paranoia, self pain, death. Always in that order, so perfectly aligned and not even the slightest bit changed. Abatu watched the man go back to his piano playing, but with a heavy feeling of anxiety. Of course. This was how it always begun.

Slamming the bar shut, locking the oven door firmly closed, she immediately distanced herself from the appliance, scrambling over the tile floor her crimson hands slipping on the ceramic. No noise emanated from the oven as the internal temperatures rose. Stained clothes were discarded on the floor, the little dinosaur pajamas laying beside the bloodied meat hammer in a drying pool of scarlet. The constant angry glow of the control panel monitored the rise in temperature inside the machine, counting up over a hundred, cooking the small body inside. On the refrigerator door, a photograph of a little boy hung in a picture magnet, eyes squinting shut with a broad smile on his face as his dark brown hair blew in the fall breeze.

Greasy black hair fell carelessly flopped into her face as she blindly stared with panicked gray eyes as the oven peaked at two hundred-sixty Celsius; the small flat filling with the smell of cooking meat. She pulled herself up using the counter-top, legs trembling violently beneath her, adrenaline pumping in rapid torrents through her veins. A bark of a laugh escaped between labored pants, hesitantly followed by a few more. The woman giggled uncontrollably, staggering away from the scene of her crime in a trail of carmine footprints. "It's done now," she whispered to no one, a manic smile splitting chapped lips, "It's over."

The home was brightly lit, every light bulb baldly burning, their shades discarded carelessly throughout the few rooms. Collapsing into the corner of the old couch, she drew her legs up, dazed eyes gazing unblinkingly at the black screen of the television with her reflection. Scraggly hair that had not been washed in weeks and sunken shadows under her eyes from ill sleeping habits were then accentuated with her filthy turtleneck sweater, flecks of blood staining the sweat-soaked fibres, and well-worn jeans, almost coming undone in several places. She laughed, wallowing in her victory and not yet ready to come down from the adrenaline thrill. The image in the television was fascinating as well, the horrifying image of a mother gone mad; like a movie. It was just like a movie; and the film was ready to roll the credits any moment now.

Swallowing air, she closed her eyes, muscles finally feeling the need to relax. What to do? 'Anthony will be returning home soon,' she thought, laying her head back against the pillow, 'His plane lands tonight. I need to clean up the house before he comes home. And dinner. I need to make dinner.' Cloudy irises cracked open as she spared no glance to the opaque mirror, willing her sore body to move and stumble towards the kitchen. The smell of burning was prominent, as though she left something to overcook. With no thought into her actions, she turned off the oven, unlatching the door and opening the gaping cavern, a billowing cloud of smoke escaping the machine. She spared not a glance at the charred remains of a body as she went about opening the windows. A cold breeze pushed through the cotton fabric of the sweater, but she could not feel the chill. Her body felt on fire, as though she was burning alive. He heart pounded in her ears, body rigid and quivering in fright as tremours of terror wracked her frame.

"Mommy."

There was a boy in the reflection, his eyes hidden from sight. He stood by the oven, watching her with a small frown, russet hair blowing in the cold wind. He wore his dinosaur pajamas, stained in blood as crimson tears rolled down pale, chubby cheeks. She could feel him watching her, her body feeling both scorched and frozen as she gazed into the glass a moment longer before whipping around.

Empty.

"M-maybe I should lay down first," she muttered her knuckles white as she gripped the counter. She began to sidle away, fingers slowly uncurling from the wooden edge. There was nothing here, the demon was killed, it was gone. She could rest now that the monster was dead. That was right, she needed rest, a relaxing bath and sleep would do the trick. She could clean up later. Her steps were still uneven, the half-dried blood sticking to the cheap carpet as she passed the television, ignoring the small shadows in her peripherals despite how they made her heart jolt into a panicked frenzy.

The bedroom door was open, toys scattered around the nursery. She wanted to keep walking, she wanted to get away from there as fast as she could, but her feet wouldn't do as she commanded. They stayed cemented to the floor dead centre of the threshold. The sound of clashing plastic met her ears, placing her on high-alert. Again. Again. Again.

"Kssssshh-ow," a child's voice cheered as the toys smashed together, grinding and scraping. She didn't want to look, she didn't want to see what she knew was there. Despite this, her head turned robotically, looking into the dimly lit room, the lamp's shattered remains scattered around the far wall, leaving the street light outside to cast it's dull yellow glow over the shadowed silhouette that held the molded action figures in the air.

"Bam!"

Crunch

"Bam!"

Crunch

"Bam!"

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The metal hammer came down upon the child's head. He fell instantly, blood gushing from the wound. He didn't move, she thought it was over, but no, a finger twitched, a gentle release of air from the lungs. Stripping the small figure of the toddler clothing, she wasted no time in shoving the fragile frame into the oven and turning it on.

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He turned looking at her, the bloodied tears dried and caked on the ashen skin, heavy shadows from the wild bangs falling over his eyes. The frown turned into a small smile that slowly grew with the erratic beating of her pulse. It grew, spreading his lips thin as wicked, jagged fangs revealed themselves. He lifted his gaze slowly, head tilting to the side as the toddler began to giggle through clenched teeth, shoulders jumping from the force.

She ran, abysmal black eyes watching her. Everywhere she went, she heard the laughter grow, if she spared even a glance at her reflection, he was there, right behind her; his black eyes always watching. "Go away!" she screeched, tears streaming down her face as she ran, slamming the door shut to her room and throwing the deadlatch in place with the flick of her fingers. She was surrounded by silence, the mad cackling instantaneously disappearing from existence. She could feel him. He was still there. How could she be rid of this demon.

She straightened up from the door, trudging along to the adjacent bathroom, the large marble tub the sole focus as she passed by the floor to ceiling mirror, the grinning face of the black-eyed monster watching her. She stripped, body still shaking in fear she could no longer register; a blast of icy water cascaded from the spigot, filling the pool. She stepped in, unable to feel the biting chill of the temperature, submerging herself underneath the shallow depths, the grinning face of a black-eyed child watching over her.

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Jolon cackled wickedly as he abandoned the apartment, nothing of interest residing there anymore. He kept the features of the child, growing a fondness for the unruly brunette hair as he skipped away. His white face seeming to glow as it caught the faint light of the crescent moon. He sighed heavily, continuing down the sidewalk, invisible to human eyes. "I'm bored. New game~!"

http://i473.photobucket.com/albums/r.../Jolon-1-1.jpg

"Ring around the rosy.
Pockets full of posy
Ashes, ashes
We all fall down..."

Spoiler

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KKI2gOawEPA

"JUST STOP IT!" a man screamed as he ran from room to room in his apartment. His eyes, red with fatigue and his whole body seemed like it was bruised all over. The man, named Tony Falcon, was a happy man who did well for everybody. That was until now...

"Now now... what's the hurry? There are more sounds I'd like to play with you." a demonic entity appeared, his white face glistening with sadistic joy.

"JUST STOP IT!" the man shouted as he locked himself in the bathroom. Poor guy... he didn't know that demons could pass through anything.

The white faced demon glided through the door as he turned off the light in the bathroom. The bathroom was only illuminated by a single candle light that the man lit as the lights went off. The mirrors in the bathroom began gushing blood as the victim screamed in pure horror. He tried to reach for the doorknob when the door itself began gushing blood. Fear... such fear the man felt. He was almost at his limit. The very walls of the bathroom became flooded with blood as creatures from another dimension swam around Tony. He could breath in the river of blood... but not for long. The very horrors that man was afraid of had come to life... all in the bathroom.

The demon named Harlequin pretty much knew what the man's fear was and in gleeful spirits(no pun intended) delivered fear into his eyes.

The mirrors in the room erupted into a fury of shards as unimaginable blood soaked horrors began creeping out of the mirrors. Their eyes bloodshot, their skin flayed and their faces were mashed beyond repair.
The horrors along with Harlequin began singing a terrifying chorus of satanic chants.

"Back to the depths of Hell, you greed infested mortal.
Suffer for your greed and lust, now and eternal.
Cry hard now and lament, for your pain will be true.
The pain in store will make the dead weep for you."

The man groped for the nearest sharp object to impale himself with but to no avail. Anything he could use to end his suffering were taken by Harlequin. The blood soaked horrors began ripping their own innards to shreds as they bathed blood on Tony. His paranoia and fear were at the max which Harlequin fed on.

The demon did feel pity... the man was already wetting and crapping himself. To end his suffering, Harlequin blasted him away with a sonar wave. The man landed near the window as the horrors began lurking on the walls and ceiling of the house, edging nearer to Tony. There intestines dangling and leaving a trail of blood.

Harlequin came last out of the bathroom as he unveiled his true form. Harlequin laughed a piercing sound as the man's ears bled. Tony saw the window and knew what to do. As what Harlequin expected, Tony jumped out of the window... that would be fine if he wasn't situated on the 38th floor. Harlequin floated out of the window as he snapped his fingers. The whole room was fixed, nothing was destroyed. Only the window where Tony jumped out.

The demon flew towards the corpse when the crowd began to gather in.

"Your soul is mine." Harlequin chuckled as he absorbed the trails of fear and paranoia, sating his hunger. When his meal was done, Harlequin trailed forward... looking for another victim to play his melody of death to. They'll be smiling from ear to ear.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The white face floated above the crowds as he was in search for a new victim. Suddenly, he saw another white face... he was in a form of a child. Feeling bored, Harlequin transformed into a bald kid with huge red eyes, lollipop included. Like a child, Harlequin skipped beside the fellow white face, which he discovered was named Jolon.

"Done with your prey? I just had one of the best preys yet." Harlequin chuckled as he licked his lollipop.

Waiting underneath the old magnolia tree, Nathaniel ground his teeth in impatience. Known as the ‘least angel-like’ of the archangels, he nevertheless held destructive powers far beyond those of his kin. Unlike most angels, who remained dressed in those flowing white robes that they seemed so obsessed with, Nathaniel was dressed in more pragmatic wear. His torso was wrapped in a tight-fitting white shirt and a thin beige jacket, while his legs were sheathed in loosely fitting white linen pants, ending in a pair of shiny black loafers. His hands were hidden beneath a layer of white leather, which creaked every time he moved his hands, but they insulated him from the chill of the wind well enough. His unruly blonde hair was slicked back with what the humans called ‘gel’, and a thin layer of golden stubble lined his chin, while his face was twisted into a frown of barely suppressed anger. “She’s late,” he muttered quietly as he folded his arms across his chest, leaning his back against the generations old tree and watching the dead leaves come spiralling down.

Intercepting one on its descending path, the Archangel let it float into his hand, staring at it absent-mindedly and tilting his head. It was strange. Even the most pure and beautiful things would become corrupt and dead. Flowers and plants like the magnolia, which dedicated their lives to purifying the air for the corrupt humanity, a thankless task that everyone took for granted, and would only end up killed by those they saved, or killed by age. Inverting his hand, Nathaniel cupped his hand in even further...and the dead leaf burst into brilliant white flame, which crackled hungrily as it flowed around the foliage. And yet...the leaf was not consumed. Though the flame licked and danced on the brown leaf of the magnolia, it did not physically harm it. Nor did it spiritually do any damage. There was nothing corrupt about the lead, apart from its death, and that was his sister’s domain, not his. He was meant to watch over the blazes which consumed the earth, slaying the wicked and incinerating the heretics. More often than not, it would also consume the innocent, but Nathaniel’s belief was that better one innocent die now than a million die later.

Crushing his hand into a fist, the flame hissed out, and the crackling sound of the leaf breaking apart was heard. For a second, the white fire consumed Nathaniel’s hand, before disappearing. Opening his hand once more, he let the broken fragments of leaf drift down to the ground, and his eyes followed every piece as they settled near his feet. “Hey mister!” he heard from his left, causing his head to swivel around, his face still locked into the rictus frown, “can you do that again?” Several children had climbed down from the tree, and were now watching Nathaniel, after having seen his display of pyrotechnics. “Away with you, children,” he said with contempt, his voice edged with annoyance, “I have no time for you.”
“Aww, come on sir!” one of the girls said from the back, “we just want to-“
“AWAY!” Nathaniel shouted, standing up straight and looking at them with his face radiating annoyance now. The children all laughed as they ran away from Nathaniel, making sounds of mock fright. Clicking his tongue, the Archangel turned away, muttering under his breath. He didn’t get humanity at all. They took everything for granted, and looked out only for themselves. Sure, there were those few genuine kind saints, but they were diamonds in the rough, or a needle in a haystack. He honestly wondered why he even tried saving them. They always screamed when he tried to liberate them from White Faces...then again, his method of purification involved immolating them in his flames, which probably didn’t do much for their already stretched sanity.

Hearing the crunch of feet against the dead leaves, Nathaniel turned his head to face the sight of his sibling, Sister Gabriel. Sighing, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants and strode towards her, disappointment in his eyes. “You’re late,” were his first words to her, sounding brash and angry...and yet his face displayed something completely different. His face was twisted into a grin of wry amusement, and his eyes bore a certain brotherly kindness, completely at odds with his previous self. He didn’t know why, but Gabriel was the only one that provoked this emotion from him. Probably because she was the youngest of the Archangels, while Nathaniel was the second-youngest. “What took you so long?:

Angelo

Fall was Angelo's favorite time of year. With the leaves changing and the cool winds, it was like a version of heaven on Earth. The only problems were the demons; cruel creatures determined to lead the humans into an eternity of pain and despair. It was a sad, sad time when another human fell into a demons trap, much like today, and every other day. Humans were so easily swayed by temptations and tricks. Tricks were a silly thing, another way to hide the truth from the eyes.

A small child sat on the sidewalk, chalk left untouched in the plastic bucket beside her. Her legs were drawn up to her chest as she stared at the rain water flowing past in the gutter. Her face was tear stained, and her tiny hands clutching the old pair of jeans she wore.

"Today is not a day to spend crying," Angelo said to her softly. He sat down on the sidewalk next to her, his white, flowing pants fluttering softly in the breeze. He looked down at her, a small smile on his lips. The little girl glanced up at him, then back down.

"My parents are fighting," She said softly. She sniffed, wiping her nose with a sigh.

"Oh?" He asked, looking back to the house. The girl nodded, then looked up at him again.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"My name is Angelo, what's yours sweetheart?" He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

"Amy," She said.

"Well, Amy, I understand how hard it is to hear them fight, but you have to understand that people fight all the time, it's just how it is," He paused, "Life is too short to spend angry or upset," He looked across the street.

"But not for you," Amy said quietly. Angelo laughed softly.

"No, not for me, but I have reasons to be happy," He said, "Why don't you draw me something?" He asked. The girl nodded happily and pulled the bucket of chalk closer, selecting the pink one.

Perry

Another day, another suicide. Perry sighed as she stood outside the apartment, waiting for the investigators to come out so she could ask them questions that probably wouldn't get answered. She had already talked to the family, who were here moments ago before the body was removed. Poor soul, jumped through his bathroom window, thirty-eight stories high. The family was a mess, all crying saying that this man, Tony, wasn't the kind to kill himself. He was a do-gooder, someone who gave what he had to others. The family always said nice things, things that made the person seem like some kind of saint. Perry scoffed, people weren't that good unless there was something in it for them.

The investigators finally walked out of the apartment building, only to be hounded by other reporters. Perry decided to listen in, instead of being jostled and pushed.

"There is no evidence of foul play, Tony Falcon simply committed suicide," The investigator held up his hand as he spoke to stop all the questions.

"Detective! Don't you think it odd that the man jumped out of his bathroom window? Even more odd, the fact that the bathroom door was locked when Mr. Falcon died?" A rather annoying reported bellowed at the detectives, shoving a microphone in his face as he tried to pass. The detective stopped, no doubt wondering where this reported had gotten his information.

"There was no other human being in the apartment at the time of Tony Falcon's death," The detective said, glaring at the reporter. Perry scribbled down what she had learned, and a few other comments before she finally got into her car and headed for her office. This story was due to run in the mornings paper, so once she reached her office she sat down and began to type.

Shoshan had to admit, maybe she was going a little overboard on the partying, but why not? She had time to spare and she loved trying all the new kinds of drinks. Besides, there were lots of new people to meet, places to see! She didn't want to just sit and waste away. Cool air nipped at her cheeks, as she hurried down the sidewalk, sandwiched between her two best friends, Lindsey and Darren. They'd been by her through thick and thin, and it was never a real celebration without them.

"So this club, Vortex, apparently it's some kind of franchise, they've got branches of it everywhere!" Lindsey chattered on about the different locations of this club, she and Darren sharing a side-glance before mutually deciding to just let her have her fun. Once they actually got dancing, Linds would be too busy to chit-chat. As the sun began to set, the nightlife crawled out from where it had hidden away, more people joined them on the street as they drew closer to the club. "How fun! Looks like word has spread already!" Shoshan couldn't help but exclaim while catching sight of some of the snazzier outfits on display. Grabbing both Lindsey and Darren's arms, she began to drag them forward, "We won't get in if we don't walk faster!"

Laughter followed them throughout the night. Flashing colors and the smell of alcohol and gyrating bodies lingering around their senses. Night began to take over the city and as Shoshan took her drink at the bar, she couldn't help but feel like her luck was about to change. Perhaps things will start looking up for her.

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Zadkiel was a bit of a loner by nature, but yet he loved to be around people. He was quite and introverted, but that was mostly due to the fact that when he talked, most people usually excused themselves from his company. He forgave them, of course, after all, what kind of angel would he be if he didn't forgive the ignorant. Then again, he supposed he was rather ignorant too.

Sighing, the dark-haired angel patted the front of the book, "Share with me the secrets of humans. I want to know why they laugh and cry."

An insistent tug on his clothing brought him out of his contemplation, and he looked down only to find a scruffy looking girl sucking on a lollipop bigger than her mouth. "Mister, you look funny."

"I... look funny?" He didn't understand this. Was his expression peculiar? Was it his stance? "Yeah, you're wearing a dress. Momma says boys don't wear dresses."

"Ah, that is what you meant. Your ambiguity confused me. Dear child, this is not a dress; this is traditional Japanese clothing, called a yukata." Several moments of slurping followed before she lowered her lollipop with a frown. "Momma also says using big words is rude, are you trying to pick a fight? I beat all the boys in my class, you don't scare me!"

"I mean nothing of the sort, only saying that this is not a dress." The little girl was not persuaded, and proceeded to kick him in the shin. Blinking down at the action, he gave her the smile he'd been practicing, "It's okay, I forgive you." Her eye twitched and she dropped the sweet, "Momma!" Off she ran, with Zadkiel none the wiser. Pulling a hand-mirror from his pocket, he practiced his smile again. "Well, it's an improvement."

There was a gently breeze to the crisp autumn day. It was the sort of breeze that Avarielle could find nothing but comfort in. But then, she was the type of woman who could find comfort in many things; a simple breeze, the sound of running water, the turn of a leaf and a single drop of rain. She could find the comforting beauty of the world in all those small things that humans seemed to overlook. After all, Avarielle loved the wild nature of the world and everything that came with it. As a result from this she often found herself in a slightly less than bright mood when surrounded by walls of dark stone and not a tree within her sight.

And yet she couldn’t help but enjoy all the people who wandered through the iron jungle, casting their own aura and presence into the atmosphere. And no one offered the exact same anything to this world. This too, was something she took comfort in; the number of people who walked this earth happily without ever having to run into some kind of problem that was beyond their capacity to handle. Like demons; filthy, disgusting demons. How irredeemable those filthy creatures were. Hurting people, corrupting the world and causing mayhem without the slightest moral line, in all of her life as an angel she could not comprehend how any being could be so completely evil.

Avarielle took a deep breath, how easily it was for her to lose her cool at the oddest of times; mentally-that was. She had no trouble keeping up the appearance of stability all of the time, with only a few exception to note. Avarielle’s mood raised greatly when ahead she spotted a tree and beneath it stood a surprise. A surprise that was the two Archangels Gabriel and Nathaniel, the former made her very happy as she had always had a fondness for the small angel; but the latter always gave her a slight degree of uncertainty. Archangel Nathaniel was one with a quick temper and the ability to control the flames; one of the few things she thought made an awful combination. But, despite her hesitation, the angel wandered over to the two, longing to be within Gabriel’s company.

Myrtie Stanton was a young, healthy and happy eleven year old girl who was living in the southern areas of Manhattan. She was living with her grandmother until her mother returned. Myrtie’s mother was a woman with a fancy job that required her to leave very often and go visit foreign countries, and that was as much of it as the young girl understood about the situation. And for the time being the young girl was far too young to care, as long as her mother returned to her she would be happy and continue to smile every day. But the door did not open the day Miss Stanton was set to arrive, or the following day and not even the day after that. Silence filled the house along with the absence of the little girls smile. Weeks passed, spring rolled onto summer and summer onto autumn. The girl became as dead as the season as she slowly became ignorant to the outside world. It was at this location that Raphael was taking a detour from the designated meeting place, but he felt obligated to help this girl as the death of her mother was caused by one of the white faces.

Left alone fate would have it that this young girl would slowly spiral down into a miserably life and live a very unsuccessful life. The girl’s grandmother was a woman of terrible health and she was currently doing little to improve it as the doctors had said she shouldn’t bother. They knew nothing. The woman would have been fine had she received treatment and good health care. These things are a matter of time though, and that time had long passed. Within a year she would die as her body slowly gave into the ailments that plagued her and no mortal being could help her now. The poor elder woman had been frantic lately, trying to figure out what would become of her beloved grandchild when she passed away. But now the gently woman needn’t worry any longer she would be healed and her life would extend long enough so that she would at least be capable of rearing the young girl into her adult years. It hadn’t taken long at all. He came in through the opened balcony door (which he couldn’t help but feel was an unsafe habit to have) and cured the elder woman in her sleep before returning the way from which he came and closing the door after himself.

There was not a far distance between the location where the two Stanton’s had lived and the meeting place, but even so, Raphael was in no mind to be late since he would probably encounter a more than slightly irritated Nathaniel and he did not care to hear that man fume. It was not long before the old magnolia tree could be spotted in his foresight, beautiful and somber. To his surprise not only Nathaniel and Gabriel waited beneath the trees narrow branches; a third angel could be seen standing among them. As he landed upon the ground he offered a quick glance in the unfamiliar angel’s direction to see if he would recognize her. He did recognize her, her name was Avarielle but other than that he knew very little of her save that if he recalled correctly she was quite fond of Gabriel. But then so was Nathaniel. Raphael offered a small head bow in the direction of Avarielle as an action of acknowledgement before he turned to face the other two.

“Please forgive the time delay there was something I needed to take care of.”

Gabriel

Date: November 9th, 2003
Time: 3:31 P.M.

The poison to kill an angel was any sort of impurity or just genuine evil, corrupting the fibers of their existence. In Gabriel's case, things were making her a bit anxious and hesitant on the whole idea that they should gather up, rather than work solo(with the exception of Nathaniel being her partner). Gazing over at the irritated man, she smiled innocently and gave her famous "whoops-I-didn't-mean-to-do-that" gestures, bobbing her shoulders up and down one time. She usually did that to him a lot and other angels. It was cute to most, but to him, probably a total nuisance or even worse.

"I apologize, dear brother, for Evelyn Greene was being a tad bit difficult." While coaxing the fair girl, she had spoken like she was some sort of pilgrim, but that was not her real way of speaking. It was just habitual when she talked to humans for some reason. It was never a problem for any angel, so everyone was used to it. Gazing into her big brother's eyes, it always confused other angels and made them worried when the two made contact with each other.

His tone was mad, his eyes were kind, but his facial expression was sarcastic and cynical. Lots of them would get confused and worried for the small "child" and even for Nathaniel. Rumors were spread so hastily, but nobody truly knew of Gabriel's temper. Like a truly mad Gabriel. Truly mad. Nobody's witnessed it... but still, there's a truth to every rumor. Suddenly, something caught her inquisitive attention.

As she sensed a heavenly, maternal presence come their way, her head slightly tilted towards it. Avarielle, the very woman that brought her some sort of twisted enjoyment just for being there. She had no idea why, though. Her voice, her scent, her very presence just made the little seraphim feel happy and at ease. It was something she never experienced with any other angel. As the woman approached, Gabriel gave a warm, welcoming smile and dipped her head in greeting, streams of reddish brown hair falling to her face.

"Hello, Avarielle. It's nice that you could make it." Giving her normal, delightfully charming smile, Gabriel turned back to Nathaniel to see his reaction on the matter, but another archangel appeared. Raphael. His voice was soft and merciful, but she knew he wasn't one to forgive people as quickly as Zadkiel did. She couldn't say they talked much, but he was one of the older archangels and helped her fight in the war, so as far as siblinghood went, Raphael was included.

Clearing her throat for some reason, she gave a welcoming smile to Raphael and seemed to take a delight in his company as well. "That's alright, Raphael. I suppose we are all a little late when it comes down to it.. Well, except for Nathaniel." Whether to irritate him, or just be friendly, it was unknown. Her tone was sweet but the grin on her face sort of made it confusing. Looking out at the sky, Gabriel felt a strange feeling once again... Smelling the air, her eyes grew serious and she knew exactly who it was. White Faces.

Abatu the White Face

Date: November 9th, 2003
Time: 3:38 P.M.

Abatu was about to dig his sharp teeth into this delightful "snack" until he smelled a familiar, but soothing scent outside. His blank eyes widening slightly, he floated out and spotted his two comrades. Well, one of them at least. The other disguised as a creepy child, but nonetheless, a comrade of his. Slowly, he recognized the two as Jolon and Harlequin, their taste buds definitely satisfied. Smirking, the demon made his way over and dipped his head, chuckling.

"Oh? I didn't expect to see you two here, Jolon, Harlequin. If anything, I figured you would be back in Hell and plotting for your next prey..." Abatu smirked and scratched the black hairs on his white scalp. It was normal for other demons to tease each other. Nothing the others weren't used to. Especially by Abatu.

Suddenly, another ghastly scent shot it's way in like a missile. Frowning, Abatu turned and saw something that wanted to make him vomit. Angels?! Seriously? Three White Faces and four angels? That just wasn't fair. A smirk played on Abatu's face... the angels would obviously lose. Crossing his arms, he pointed a long, bony scarlet finger towards the seraphimic group. "Aye, look what we got here. A couple of spineless winged birds." He gave a toothy grin and tilted his hat, disappearing. Time to start some action.

Jolon could sense his kin before the other took to walking in step with him, "Harlequin~" he giggled his greeting more than spoke, the jittery laughter sounding like a child being viciously tickled, "Of course of course, but the last is always the best, and the next will surpass. The cycle repeats and the game is never not fun; always changing with our favourite prize at the end. But your forms are so ugly friend, you need to work harder.” The small pudgy hand had lost its form long before, a long, narrow finger dyed crimson at the tips, poked the other's face with a boney tip. The way his smile spread to right below his up-turned eyes and never faltered when he spoke was not uncommon for their kind, but looked grotesque in how the thing lips twisted in unnatural ways to form words.

Suddenly a stronger presence invaded their space, forcing the young demon to look up to the newcomer, the Devil's creation of life Abatu. Jolon bowed his head in turn to show some respect for the powerful demon who stood tall and imposing; a true role model and one to be envied. “I lose time travelling back and forth, finding children is easier when done in their presence. You can always find the troubled ones faster. I love the children Abatu, I love to be among them, even if the others can't see me.”

Fingers tapped along wickedly sharp teeth, the grin holding strong until a smell caught his attention. The reek of angels among his children. It churned a feeling of hatred through his innards, the smile becoming no smaller, but the corners steadily fell to an ugly frown. “Wretched birds with ugly wings decaying within,” he muttered through clenched teeth, lips not moving to form the words either. He too let himself fade away, not wanting to be out-manoeuvred and killed by Angels.