Red spots stained his vision, smog blurring the edges. Around him, the earth was shrouded in fog and soaked in a heady drizzle that felt good on his skin. Hot and cleansing, like fire running down the bare of his bruised skin. Perhaps it was just all the blood loss making him dizzy instead of his nonexistent appreciation of nature's refined beauty. He needed to get back to his camp, tend to his wounds and bring back news of the battle. They still had time to form a small militia and perform a quick strike against the enemy while they were weakened. Create a straightforward path for their troops to march directly to the gates, perhaps end this once and for all. Hah! Wishful thoughts of a dying man!

Each step felt like two lifting lead lined boulders, the weight forcing him into a hunched shuffle. The rain pelting down on him in torrents. Eventually, his knees gave out under him. The ground crashing into him, soft with rainwater and his own blood. He'd be damned if he should die now! Gritting his teeth, he crawled forward, nails digging into the dirt and dragging himself forward. Ahead of him, loomed high walls of twisted copper, glimmering darkly in the gloom.

---

"Father, will you please read to us once we are done unpacking the rations?" Bright eyed, Andrew gazed up at him with the sort of look that would be illegal to refuse. A deep chuckle left him, reaching out, he ruffled the boy's hair. Around him, the others had paused with their boxes in hand, freezing halfway through sorting cans of preserved fruit, newspaper wrapped vegetables and the bottled rice water that the women were so fond of, ears pricked. The older ones tried to appear busy, pretending that they had outgrown the interest over such story sessions, only wandering near enough to eavesdrop because they had nothing better to do or the mantle near by was in need of a wipe down or the heater had to be refilled with coal. Just going about doing their chores, perhaps only catching a part of the story out of vague interest or chance.

"I shall run out of stories at this rate." He said ruefully, receiving a look of incredulity in return that earned another laugh on his part. That was, before the sirens rang.

The box hit the ground, tipping over to allow several cans to roll out. Those could always be picked up later. Right now, the hall was in a state of orderly chaos. Panic repressed as they marched down into the basement, alongside the anxious tradesmen that rushed in, arms full of their precious livelihood. Scrambling past the pews and trying to push their way past the young children calmly lining up to head down to the basement. Disgusting, but they were only panicked. Panic made people do things they didn't mean to do, it made them blind, not belligerent. Priestly, he intervened to calm them and make sure that the younger ones made their way down past the heavy steel doors first.

It didn't last long. They had just crammed everyone down into the dank concrete room before the sirens ended, cutting off quickly. A breathy chuckle leaving him as his heart dropped back down into his chest. Leaning against the cool wall, he caught himself and ushered everyone out after the silence confirmed that it was safe.

"Perhaps we should move up our story telling session, only this once." He announced as the tradesmen filed out, grumbling under the breath. The younger ones cheered while the elder feigned disinterest, continuing to help unpack the boxes closest to the circle they formed along the upraised stage at the back of the great church. Planting himself on the step, he searched his memory for some new story, preferably one to calm them down after the whole ordeal.

Ollie and Andy settled down beside him, knees pulled up to their chests. Bella right by his feet and the Snicket siblings kneeling by her side. The corners of his lips twitched upward and he lifted little Jacob onto his knee. It was a familiar scene.

The battle wasn't going well. Through all the haze of smoke and rain high above the earth below the rain mixes with blood and falls like red tears from the sky. The humans below recognize the signs and flee from the red rain, many crying and praying that the rain will be the only thing to descend today. Overhead the rain becomes a storm as the forces clashing just across the veil begin moving closer and closer, unable to confine the fighting, and truly, not caring about how far up or down they go. They simply want to hold the line. It is a light skirmish, by many's standards, however that does not mean that the bodies are not beginning pile up on both sides.

Among the fighters one rookie seems to be keeping stride with those older and wiser angels, his eyes flaring with his energy as he takes down one demon after another. Behind the glow, hatred can be seen. His cries and bellows sound much bigger than the boy himself, however as he tears his way through the battlefield, covered in blood from both demon and angel, the enemy comes to understand not to underestimate the child. They've heard of him, from other demons, from other battles. They would call him the mad angel, ripping his way through the battlefield like an angel possessed, not paying attention to his own wounds until the retreat.

However, Laisander is not crazy. Obsessed, maybe. Over confident, most definitely. But, he is quite sane. Like any youth trying to prove his worth though, he tends to go overboard when it comes to handling demons. Proof is found easily as with a shout his blade sails out and takes the head off a demon who never saw it coming while another demon sinks his spiked mace into Lai's shoulder. With a cry the blade returns in an arc and cuts the demon's throat. As he gurgles out his last breaths Lai removes the mace and throws the foul weapon aside, rushing to aid one of his fellows.

The fight is short, no more than half an hour, and by the end Lai finds himself with his feet on blood soaked terran soil. The water from above pouring from the heavens slowly returns to normal and begins washing away the grime on the young angel's skin. Without bothering to return to their realm right away a medi angel rushes over to the troops youngest member and begins treating his major wounds, glaring at him but biting his tongue. No matter how many times the others have told him, he simply loses himself in battle, so there really is no point any more.

As his wounds are being treated Laisander flops down on the hard packed earth, now mud. The medi angel swats him but only grumbles a little as he now has to kneel. The few too wounded to go right back up follow suit, letting the medic do their jobs while complimenting one another. Lai sits away from them, not really having anything to say to the others. 'A battle is a battle, and surviving isn't enough to celebrate. We didn't actually achieve our goal. We simply held the line. If we had just pushed, that little bit more, we could have retaken Arbath Point. . .' He does not really resent his fellows for not doing what he thought they should, but right after battle he can't think of anything other than “We could have done better”. A bad habit, but one he has no intention of changing until the war is over.

The rain slowly lessens, but does not stop completely, and one-by-one the other angels leave. Once the medi angel is done treating Laisander, he leaves too, until the only one left on earth is the boy. The rain continues washing over him and with a sigh he cleans his clothing so that, other than the mud he's sitting in, he looks pristine. 'I like ti down here. . .Even with the red washed soil beneath me and the stench of demon still in the air, there's something so. . .Peaceful about all of this desolation. . .' Looking around he notes very little damage to the planet itself and nods, a slight smile gracing his normally stern face.

Standing the soil slips off of him as if he were made of cellophane and he looks untouched save for the now soaked bandages over his shoulder and calf. Going over his schedule he realizes he should be getting back, however as he turns to leave something begins nagging at the back of his mind. Looking around he feels a presence. . .A demonic presence. . .However it is so faint that at first he thinks it's a dying demon left on the battlefield. His head goes up, like a dog scenting the air, and after a moment he locates the source.

His head snaps around. “It's by a bunch of humans, near a holy house. What is a demon doing in such a place!?” The faintest twinges of fear for the humans races through him, and his duty to those who follow the lord compels him forward. His wings make hard rustling sounds as he beats them quickly, pouring on as much speed as he can. As the first signs of humanity appear at the edges of his sight the angel touches down and like a leaf in a fire his normal outfit peels away from him and a new one curls into place. His hair, a bit out of place from the battle, ripples into a perfect braid with his bangs sticking to his cheeks, making him looks a little more believable as a human and his clothes, though clean, appear worse for wear. He learned through trial and error that if he wore nice clothes that most humans would easily guess he's not human. Pressing his energy down so the demon won't feel him coming he lets out a sigh and continues slipping into his disguise.

His wings seems to dissolve, feathers falling away and leaving him with them well out of sight, and adding the final touch he reaches up and pulls down his goggles to cover up the top half of his face. The leather of it is supple, and quite comfortable, even though he doesn't wear them often. 'If they make me they may start fleeing the both of us, making it harder to target this demon' Racing forward as fast as a human can he slows as he notices that. . . .No one's fleeing. His pace becomes a simple walk as he looks this way and that. 'But, if there's a demon tormenting them, then why?' His confusion only mounts as he comes closer to the church and sees only relived and disgruntled faces.

A few people glance his way as he simply stops and stares so he ducks his head, moving towards the church slowly, hands deep in his pants pockets. 'This doesn't make any sense. I can feel a demon in the church. How can everyone be so calm!? Demons only enter human settlements to torment humans. . .Maybe I'm catching him before he starts?' Keeping his head down he slips into the church and settles next to the front doors. If he begins snooping. . .His eyes go wide as he hears the sounds of children. He knows a lot of holy houses house children who lost their parents, but children and demons in the same place are a recipe for disaster. Feeling his panic mount he stays leaning against the wall and just watching. Several humans are in the pews, praying or speaking in soft voices. He can't see the demon or the children, however he makes sure his holy energy stays down so the demon will not make him right away.

Does he miss the battle? Of course. It's in his blood, in the blood of those around him, it calls and threatens and whines, but it never begs because that's not what war is about. He begs. That's how he knows that for the most part, it has left him to slink away into some dark corner where it snaps and growls, trying to intimidate or lure him back with it's siren sweet voice, but he puts it aside for the gentler call of the children as they bombard him, as children do, with question after question, interrupting the story ever so often, earning his laughter, "Not so loud now, we still have people coming to pray. Actually, I shouldn't even be telling you a story before your daily prayers."

"Noooo...." The loud whines of impatient young ones filled the great hall, before he quieted them down. Having to stifle his own quiet laughter from disturbing the church goers. Their numbers usually increased after a Siren, the many people coming to thank The Lord that they hadn't been affected by the battle and pray for further protection and secretly, under their breaths, ask for the impossible end to this. He could get so philosophical about it and he had a thousand times over before that it wasn't even fun to try anymore, so he turned his attention back to his less priestly duties.

"Alright, alright, calm down." He murmured, continuing the story to calm them down, trying to be clever with the questions that were shot at him. Having to stop and think every now and then, having to come up with something to satisfy the children's curiosity. Eventually a merchant came in, interrupting their little story session. Sending the children off, he stood and straightened his clothing, heading straight for the man.

It was much harder to tell the wealthy apart from the middle class and poor nowadays, mostly because everyone was considered middle class at this point, but the people who liked to think themselves higher often had that sort of stance. They held their head higher and puffed out their chests more, kept their feet together and always had their hands out. To Xephos, they were silly signs, false shows of strength, like a venom-less cobra puffing up it's hood or a black and yellow beetle. They always seemed so dangerous when they were so easily crushable, crunching nicely under one's foot as if they were made to be stomped on.

"Father, I was told that you were accepting travelers for the night?"
"That is correct, we welcome any weary folk wishing to stay the night as long as they do not mind staying for a small fee."
"I am willing to give but some food for a night's stay, we do not wish to venture out into battle scarred ground."
"That is a generous offer, but that is a trade product. Merely, we ask that you lend a little labour into helping us distribute our rations, we have yet to properly achieve an efficient distribution line, you see."
"Very well, Father. If that is all you require for a night's rest."

The man bowed to him or rather stooped down slightly as if trying to mimic a bow, but failing spectacularly at doing so. He nodded and sent the man off anyway, turning to find eight pairs of eyes staring up at him expectantly. Their little feet tapping impatiently, fidgeting where they stood while they tried to remain quiet waiting for him to finish up and get back to the story. He supposed that he should reward them for their obedience. Much to their misfortune, someone else rushed up, calling for the priest's attention.

"Father," An inquisitive pig tailed girl, nearly a young maiden at this point, called him. Earning another soft groan from the children as they dispersed, intuitively knowing they weren't going to get their story time any time soon, "There is a young man standing by the door, I believe he wishes to talk to you. He has been looking in quite a while."

Glancing at the doors, he caught him. The young man, goggles obscuring part of his face, scrutinizing the interior of the great hall as if looking for some flaw in the marble, of which there were many. His head lifted too high to be bowed down in prayer and too low to be gazing up at the mosaic windows; the dying light of the sun filtering in to play across the colored glass depicting the Virgin Marry clasping a rosary, dousing the church in a spectrum of light. If he wasn't staring up there, then he didn't know why the boy was there.

"Perhaps he is seeking a night's rest, you may invite him in if you wish. They all are hesitant at times to seek help from the Lord's house." He waved her off to help the boy, watching her skip over the same way she would skip when she was younger. Soon, he believed, he should urge her to mingle with the townsfolk and build herself a proper home within the town. As much as he loved having innocent smiling faces around to brighten the area, he felt guilty having them so attached to him to play with the other children of the town. Perhaps he sheltered them too much...his thoughts dancing around his mind, he returned to helping unpack the boxes.

---

"Excuse me, Sir, but are you here to spend the night?"

The angel's head goes up. 'It's coming' He keeps his energy down, in case he can shoo the demon out without disturbing the humans, however the sight that greets his eyes stops him cold. 'The children, they. . They know him!? They. . It's. . .' He can not believe his eyes. The little human children seems to be fond of the demon! The looks in their eyes, their adoration, it's all so foreign to him all he can do is watch the seen from behind hid goggles. His gaze remains locked on the demon, and it takes several minutes to realize what he's wearing. The sight of the familiar black and white configuration floors the angel and he can not even try to pretend his moth doesn't fall open at the realization.

Snapping it close quickly however he can almost feel his world turning upside down. His thoughts are so scattered that when a young girl bounces up to him it takes a couple tries before she can get his attention. “Sir, sir, are you okay? Did you fall asleep standing up? Sir?”

He snaps out of his thoughts as she waves a hand in front of his face. Looking over at her he catches her smiling in relief as he finally moves. “Pardon me, I was thinking. What did you say?” His voice is much quieter than usual. Then again, the only time he really uses it is in battle or when having to shout over all the other voice in his household.

Clasping her hands behind her back she bends over slightly, trying to hide the fact that she's happily exasperated to have to repeat herself again. “I was just asking, sir, if you are seeking shelter for the evening. The beds are free, however we do ask for a fee of labor to help us out around here.”

Laisander blinks slowly, wondering if he should accept. Looking back to the “Priest” carrying boxes around he can feel his temper flare and without another thought he nods. “Yeah, I wanna stay the night.” He looks back to the girl. “What do I need to do?” His hands slips out of his pockets in a show that he's ready to work. She looks a little startled at his sudden shift however with a slightly nervous laugh she motions to a doorway on the opposite side of the church.

“There's a lot of things that were delivered recently here, and we need to get all the boxes over to the pantry and storage rooms. If you'll just follow me. . .” He nods, following her into a room full of a very jumbled mess of boxes. One of the young men in the room take the angel off the girl's hands and begins directing Lai in what he's suppose to do. They try to take it easy on him, thinking his small stature may mean he's not very strong, but almost without thinking he proves them wrong by lifting up several heavy boxes full of cans.

“Where to?” He asks, not sounding strained at all by the weight. The youth looking at him points vaguely towards the room opposite them and with a nod Laisander makes his way towards the place where the false priest is working. He does not look at the man, letting some of the kids direct him, a few letting out noises of amazement, and settle the stack down with others of the same kind. As the children gather around to gape at the strong man Laisander's expression softens. Looking around at all the excited faces he almost lets himself forget what he came for.

However he quickly recalls and looks back towards the demon. When they had passed earlier there is no way he could have missed the holy energy emanating from the angel, and Lai wonders what the demon is going to do about it. However a tug on his sleeve catches his attention almost immediately. Looking down at the young man he smiles. “Yes?”

“How are you so strong? Are you stronger than Father Xephos? Do you come from far away?” The string of questions catch him off guard and he answers with little thought.

“I eat well and work out, I don't know him but probably, and yeah, my home is pretty far away. . .” The boy's eyes go wide as he races out of the room to find Father Xephos and tell him the news of a man who claims to be stronger than him. Lai rolls his eyes and goes back to work.

It stirs a little inside of him, rears it's head and stares before he subdues it once more. Clamping a hand over it's eyes, he strokes it's head back down into submission, but one could only keep a beast in the dark so long before it grows tired of sleeping. As it had been so long, since the creature had gotten to satisfy the burning hunger in it's belly. So long since it has had such a tempting trophy prey, flaunting it's prized hide right in front of him. Unfortunately, the predator wasn't about to be overtaken by instinct and the hunter had long hung up his gun.

Lifting his head, he catches the man's gaze for the briefest of moments as he bends down to lift several of his own boxes, the corners of his lips tugging up into a tight lipped smile. Painfully sincere, yet ironically unrevealing; like the terse politeness of strangers passing each other in the street. The moment is brief and perhaps only Xephos notices it, but they're both left with their own thoughts as they part. His feet carrying him automatically towards the makeshift kitchen they had set up in the back room.

"Has the stove burned itself out again?" He asked the pair of legs bent down next to the old iron stove, the upper half of a torso swallowed up by the large cavity in the stove's side. Sounds of the inner mechanisms being tinkered with; gears grinding and liquid rushing through lead pipes like gritty music to his ears. A loud tap of the wrench against the side of the clunky iron stove answered him as a soot blackened arm loomed out of the depth of the machine.

"I think we've gotten in some new parts, but most of them were on pre-request."

Clunk Came the reply, another heavy tap of the wrench.

"Well, I'm sure there'll still be a few parts left over to scavenge, I'm sure we'll find something for the stove by tonight."

Clunk Clunk

"Then it'll be soup tonight. We have a rather large number of guests..but The fireplace will have to do. We still have that big pot in the storage don't we?"

Clunk.......Clunk Clunk Clunk

"I'll send Javier out to scavenge for parts. Speak of the lamb, and here he comes running." He exclaimed as the boy in question came skidding into the kitchen. Winded, he reached up and tugged the taller's sleeve, much to the man's amusement.

"Father, Father! The new traveller!" He exclaimed with the utmost urgency and Xephos felt ice run through his veins and his gaze is suddenly more inquiring and his lips press together in a thin line before the boy finishes his sentences, "He says he's stronger than you, Father! And he's lifting up the boxes like they're pillows! All three at once! That's as much as you can lift, Father! Is it true? Is the traveller stronger than you?"

The tension left him in a rush, though some resided within the cracks of his temperament. Kneeling down, he gently reprimanded the boy, "Don't bother our guests, he's probably strong because he eats his vegetables unlike you. Perhaps if you do the same, you'd be as strong as me one day. Now come, go help Melanie with dinner, the stove's broken so get the big pot from the storage and use the fireplace, like I showed you, with the liquid coal."

Sending the boy off, he decided it was time to show their weary travelers to their rooms for the night. Fingering his cross cufflink, he took a deep breath unnoticed by their mechanic who was too lost in the world of wires and gears to notice his initial apprehension.

---

"We are truly grateful for your help." He began, approaching their newest guest, clapping his hands together, "May I show you to your room for the night?" Before an answer could be given he turned around to address the other merchants who were eager to set down their loads and follow him to their lodgings.

"Dinner will be prepared a little late tonight, I apologize for the inconvenience. Now, we often have lights off by nine. You may move about freely after hours, however, we discourage gatherings and leaving the north wing for the sake of the children, their safety and their sleep. The lavatories are located at the end of the hall, I trust you will behave yourselves." He instructed smoothly, watching the men disperse whilst he was still talking. He wasn't too bothered. People had the inane sense to behave themselves as not only a guest, but as a guest in the house of god. Very few misconducts could slip past him as well.

Strolling down the narrow hallway, the little group becoming smaller and smaller the farther they went, until all had found their rooms, but one. He had only expected as much. Turning on his heel, he flashed another polite smile, palms upturned and open, "Allow me to show you personally to your room, child. You have been of great help to us today and made quite a spectacle of yourself among the young ones. They do not usually fawn over our guests as they did you..."

With that he turned on his heel, back to the man as he led him further down the hallway, right to the door at the end, farthest away from the occupied room and the main hall of the church.

As the demonic energy fades with the false priest's departure Lai lets himself relax a little bit, watching the little ones prance around, helping where they can. He continues bringing boxes from one room to another, going where the church folk tell him to, all the while glancing towards where he can still feel the evil presence. 'He's back there, just. . .Just what? What is he doing here!? The children seem to love him and trust him, which means he's been here a while, and he didn’t jump me as soon as he sensed me, meaning. . . .What? He's a demon with some self control?' Several of the humans step away from him but he ignores them, continuing working.

Even thought that can't see his eyes, many of them sense his increasingly foul mood. Normally he's almost calm around humans. He knows how his moods affect those around him in the human realm, however in his current state it's all he can do not to charge over to the demon and start flaying some answers out of him. However, when one of the kids runs in front of him, almost knocking the boxes from his arms and his first response it to wanna smack the kid he finally notices how much he's stressing and forces himself to calm down. 'I will get my answers, I will. . .I just have to wait. . .. '

The kid looks frightened at first but after a few seconds he smiles and ruffles her hair. She giggles and pushes his hand off before returning to her running about. He watches her go, remembering his cousins back at home that he should get back to one of these days. Being active in the military makes it hard to get home time, and ever since the incident he's not found himself wanting to go home very often. He does miss the little ones though and he resolves to go see them when he's done here. As the demonic presence draws closer he sets down the boxes he's carrying where he's told before heading out of the room to wait for the demon to come in close. However when he does, meeting his eyes and everything, all he does is begin acting like the perfect host.

Laisander suppresses a growl and listens silently to what the male has to say. 'I guess he doesn't want to be outed. . . .I don't get it, I don't get it! Demons terrorize humans, fact of life, and now he doesn't even want them knowing he's here. . .Or, well, at least, what he is. . .Maybe he's got a screw loose? I've heard of crazy demons before. . .' He follow at the back of the group, listening to the male talk, watching as he points people off to their rooms, their numbers diminishing steadily until at last he is walking alone behind the false father. 'If he wanted to try anything, this would be it, but. . .I don't sense the fighting spirit in him. He's not preparing to attack I would know. He's just. . . .Trying to be polite. . .Makes me more uneasy than if he had a knife at my throat. . .'

He tenses a little when the demon turns to address him, his eyes narrowing behind his goggles. He stays silent, following a little closer when they continue on, and he even smiles when he notices how far his room is from the others'. 'Easier to come and slit my throat in my sleep, eh? Maybe that's his lure here. . . Drawing in angels with the innocent act. . .' He knows he's just being paranoid at this point but in the silence there it little else for his mind to think on. He would break the silence as they walk, but what would he say to a demon? When they finally reach his door Laisander doesn't hesitate, walking straight up to the false priest, turning at the last second to open the door. Pausing he puts a hand on the door frame, the other coming up to push his goggles so they are resting over his bangs rather than his eyes.

Turning his cool gaze up at the demon his loathing of the beast is clear. “What business have you here demon? Think long on this for it will decide what I shall have done with you.” His voice is harsh, unyielding, and before the demon can respond he slips into his accommodations and closes the door softly. Letting out a long sigh Laisander compliments himself on not losing it, taking a few slow breaths before looking around the room. It is small, simply furnished with only a lamp on a small table, a bed, a small chest, and a small window. 'Wow. . .The barracks is more crowded, but at least the beds are bigger. . .Ah, well, they are doing their best' Shrugging he plops down on the bed and yawns. He knows he can't sleep before at least showing up for supper, but he can't help feeling exhausted after the battle he was just in, and the stress he's been under since arriving. 'Perhaps a nap. . . .'

He didn't respond, there was no need for a response. Instead, he just let a lazy smile play onto his lips as the Angel spoke, keeping it until the door was shut in his face. Slowly, he unclenched his fist and flexed his sore fingers, watching his claws retract back. Gathering his thoughts, he restrained himself from the urge of ripping the fragile slab of wood off it's hinges. Turning away after a good minute and calmly retreating back down the hallway. There was much to do still; boxes to be unpacked, goods to be sorted and distributed and stews to be supervised in the making off. Not to mention, he had to make sure their guests were comfortable during their stay.

Half an hour later brought about the rapping of small hands against wood. A young messenger sent to summon the guests for supper time, with a very special 'present' for the guest stationed at the end of the hall.

A wax sealed hand crafted envelope made of starchy pulp and creased with much thought. It was handed to Laisander with wondering eyes and not a word before the little messenger went off after reminding him once more that supper was ready; evidenced by all the other inhabitants of the rooms down the corridor stirring and getting ready to leave their rooms.

Inside the envelope, as most envelopes would contain, was a letter with neat looping handwriting that read, with a hint of a lazy smile and abstract politeness,
Dear Guest,
After much thought and consideration,
I believe that my business here does not warrant your knowing, however,
for the duration of your stay here,
should you dare create a scene,
raise your weapons on holy ground
or lay but a single feather on any one of the children,
I will kill you.

Rest the night and be gone by the morrow,
Peace be with you,
Father Xephos.

From within the envelope, out rolled out a single silver bullet, bouncing on the floor until it came to a rest by his foot, the surface that faced up gleaming with the engraved name, Laisander. A rather ominous warning that the demon meant business.

---

Stew poured generously from the ladle, sloshing into their wooden bowls. It's mouth watering aroma filling up the chapel and inviting in all who were near to fine near the roaring fireplace that they had painstakingly installed during the early times, when parts were even scarcer and coal and dead wood was a plenty. The church had been as much as a shelter then as it was now, having weathered out the years.

"I do hope you will not mind if we say grace before our meals." He clasped his hands together in prayer and closed his eyes, offering his prayer. The children seated along the steps reciting with him, "
Father, we thank thee for this food, For health and strength and all things good. May others all these blessings share, And hearts be grateful everywhere. Amen."

He opened his eyes just to see their newest guest enter the room, to which he smiled and offered up a bowl of warm stew and vegetables to him, "Did you enjoy your rest, my son?" He asked loudly, holding out the bowl openly to him infront of everyone. The fire making the shadows dance behind him, beckoning to Laisander as all eyes turned to the exchange between the priest and traveler, unable to see beyond that.

Feeling as if he'd just closed his eyes the angel jerks away at the sound of the knocking. It takes him half a moment to realize that he's not where he should be and with a sigh he rolls to his feet from the floor. 'I didn't even notice falling off the bed this time. . .I gotta stop doing that, the floor is not good for the joints. . .' Dusting himself off Lai wanders over to the door, actually quite relaxed despite his silent complaints. Opening it on to those wide innocent eyes helps to keep his mood uplifted despite the clear demonic aura around the letter in the child's hand Taking it with a light smile he avoids grimacing until the child races off.

Sticking out his tongue as if he's tasted something foul the angel reads it in the doorway rather than in his room, since he still plans on spending the night and doesn't want the taint to be hanging around all evening. Pulling out the letter he pops his neck before reading. 'What does that demon want that he can't say to my face, hmmm?' As he reads he has the good sense to turn at least towards his room so that when he 'accidentally' torches the letter no one sees him. The sheer nerve of the demon trying to tell him what he can and can't do removes all the relaxation he had only moments before and now it takes all the self control he can muster to not race off and take the demon's head the very instant the letter burns completely into ash.

The small sound of metal on stone draws Lai's energy charged eyes down to the floor where he spots the bullet with his name on it. The sudden show of whimsy and stile coming from the demon seems to extinguish the anger radiating off the angel like a high wind and he cracks a smile. Reaching down he carefully picks it up, looking it over like a fine piece of art before slipping it into an inner pocket. 'Well, this is different. . .He is either taunting me, or something I can not even fathom is going on here. . .' With a devilish grin equal to a demons in self satisfaction he heads out of his room, following the mass of bodies towards the smell of food. He does not really need to eat right now, and human food is hardly substantial to this holy being, however he decides to eat a little to be polite, letting those who need it more to eat without worrying that he's not doing so.

Coming to a halt in the archway leading into the place where everyone is gathered for the evening meal Laisander instinctively bows his head at the sound of the prayer. He recognizes the demon's voice however that does not lessen his respect for the praise for the lord. 'Even though your father resides in hell, in this house, all the praise goes to Him' As soon as the prayer is done Lai continues on his way, picking an empty stretch of a bench beside one of the many tables. However before he can take his seat the demon is right there, in front of him. His goggles now hanging around his neck the angel looks up at the demon with his clear calm gaze.

His anger from before seems a distant memory as he smiles at the false father, taking the bowl with his right hand. Before the demon can retract his own hand though Lai reaches out and grabs it by the fingers, like a gentleman preparing to kiss a lady's hand. His eyes narrow only a fraction as he brings the demon's hand in close, pressing it to his forehead in an old sign of respect for the clergy. Most watching to not recognize the gesture, but a few do and go back to eating without a word. “Yes I did, thank you, father.” he murmurs softly before releasing the man's fingers and continuing on his way to the bench.

After being seated he smirks to himself. 'That old blessing is to ward of demons. He had his message delivered to me through an innocent, the coward. At least I delivered mine in person' Sighing gently he says his own private prayer before taking a few bites. However his meal I interrupted only moments later when the boy from before appears carrying his own bowl of soup. His eyes are as wide and curious as ever and with a chuckle Lai decides to tease the demon a bit. The youth lets out a happy squeal as Laisander pulls the youth up on to one leg so he can set his bowl down and eat with the angel. The boy gets comfortable and looks up at the angel expectantly.

Laisander glances towards the false priest and with a gentle sigh lets the glow from his wings show just enough for only the demon to see before wrapping one around the young man so that the feathers are brushing his back ever so slightly. The gesture is a protective one, and the boy doesn't even notice it, however it would be clear to any angel or demon that he's being non hostile with the action. Taking another bite he looks down at the young man with a smile. The youth looks up into the angels face, taken by how pretty Lai is, as most humans are. In fact, several sets of eyes around the room glance over every so often. Some are a little leery about his looks, but most are just curious.

Lai finally breaks the silence between them. “So, what's your name, and what's got you so obsessed with how strong I am?”

The boy giggles, ducking his head down a little playfully. “My name is Javier, and I just wanna be strong like you and Father Xephos so I can help more.” He beams at the angel. “I like helping out!” He hangs his head a little. “But I'm so small, I can only do little things. . .”

Lai bounces him a few times, recalling how his smaller cousins like it. It works and the slightly down youth giggles. “Well, everyone starts with the small things. You keep working at it and you'll be strong one day. Just work hard, eat healthy, and don't forget to play every once in a while. Play is good for you.” The angel speaks with a serious tone, but with a sparkle in his eyes that makes the boy grin.

He takes a bite, looking back at the angel curiously. “Play is really important?”

“Yes!” Lai says with a laugh. The closeness of the innocence helps to keep the angel calm, keeping his temper from flaring at the idea of the demon being so close. He would never willingly let a child be hurt. “Play is very important. It helps you learn things that training can not, or even school work. . .Not that they aren't important too.” Eyes wide the boy eats and listens as Lai goes on to talk about how to grow up healthy, and many little modified tales of his own youth to make it sound like he grew up on earth. As he talks the adults around him slowly move off to bed for the evening while the children not so subtly make their way over to listen to the stories.

They try to pretend that they are not listening, but by the end Lai I sitting facing away from the table, talking about the time he followed a bird to the top of a tall tree only to have it fly off and have him stuck there for hours until his mother came to get him. Several of the children look a little sad at the mention of his mother, one even starts crying. With a sad look he slips Javier off his lap and scoops up the little pigtailed girl. He crying grows dimmer as he rocks her, shushing her gently, letting his holy aura flow through her. When at last she calm he smiles at her and tugs gently on one of his pigtails. She pouts and wraps her arms around his neck. The rest of the children seem happier now too and begin whining for another story.

If anyone had asked, it would be hard to deny the little touch of disappointment that brewed inside of him when the angel took the bowl without a single protest, smiling up at him with burning sincerity. And he realized then, that he had actually wanted to goad the angel into reacting negatively to his own cordiality. Before he could better understand exactly what was running through his mind then, he felt slender fingers wrap around his hand. His fingers twitched and he tried to pull away, his gaze growing sharper as his smile tightened. Wondering if the angel had remembered his previous warnings.

There were pews on either side of them, one several steps behind him filled with three men, middle aged: eyesight going. He had played it wrong by drawing attention to his act, but he had the advantage in being near the end of the church where the shadows were rampant, darker if he purposely made it so. By slowly shuffling to the right, he could maneuver himself in such a way that he could block off field of vision from those at the side and partial vision of those at the front, relying on the darkness climbing near the walls to deter them from craning their necks and trying to watch. Most importantly, the children were on the steps, too occupied in their stew. A simple flick of his wrist before the man's grip got too strong, a hand forcing his jaw up and shut, and he could break the man's wrist, at least momentarily, and break loose. He doubted, very much, that the man would continue any further assault in full view of everyone nor would he accuse the most 'holy' man in the church of breaking his hand. Even with the children having taken so quickly to him, Xephos had been here raising them for far longer than anyone else.

Gears grinding, he readied himself. Deciding to wait and see what move the man would try to pull before he countered it. His heart raced, blood rushing through his veins in an instant. He could feel the adrenaline start to set a fire to his skin, the air becoming colder and heavy. Each and every dust particle distracting as they floated past his vision in that slowed moment. It was an unfamiliar old friend, this sort of tactical thinking and how quickly battle ready he was. It was scary to him how quickly he assessed the entire situation and the layout of the room to his advantage in the mere few seconds it took for the man to press his fingers against the cool of his forehead.

Freezing, his gaze slowly slid down to the angel's face, studying his expression as if trying to decipher what sort of game the man was trying to play, trying to suss out some fatal tell from the slightest twitch. The man still looked painfully sincere as he bowed his head in prayer and released his hand.

"May The Lord have mercy on you." The words flew out of his mouth stiffly as he slowly withdrew his hand. Fingers burning, he pressed it against his other sleeve, trying to dispel the tingling that ran down his bones. He stood there awkwardly for a few moments, staring down at the man before he hurriedly turned and walked away. His foot steps punctured by the sound of laughter and tiny feet as the children rushed to gather around their new guest.

He knows he shouldn't, but he pauses in his stride and glances back.

The scene ought to be framed in a picture and hung on the wall of some god loving orphanage slash animal home. It hurt his eyes, especially with the un seen glow of the angel's wings: feathers looking ever so delicate and soft and...painfully innocent. He wanted to hide the bold display, conceal it beneath the dirt and concrete of the church floors. He doesn't think he can bear listening to whatever he's saying to the children, so the demon finds himself sitting at the first pew, hands clasped and heads bowed in prayer as more children gravitate towards the man and supper has become an unintentional supper time.

The words don't help him, but they keep his senses distracted along with the sounds of the fire being put out and the cast iron pot being taken to be washed up. Wooden bowls clacking against one another, footsteps across the floor, tired yawns and the sounds of popping joints and stretched muscles. Laughter....They breezed past him, too slow for his liking, ignoring the priest lost in prayer. They distract him just enough for him to peek up from over his clasped hands, eyes darting over their forms with quick scrutiny before he closed his eyes and tried to fall back into the trance of prayer. Every so often taking a quick glance over at the children, reassuring himself that they were safe before he hurriedly averted his gaze.

When the sun light fell completely away from the centre window, he knew it was time to break up the little gathering and herd the children off to bed. He felt the tingling sensation from before run down his hands, strong enough to make him halt his prayer and itch his fingers, at the mere thought of approaching the angel again. It didn't hurt, but it burned...if that made sense. It was like the bite of a fire ant, stinging, but not painful enough to warrant attention if one did not wish to give it. He wanted to give it though, to flick away that foolhardy insect and tear those daring jaws straight from it's head.

When the man sent out just a spark of his energy through the young girl, he felt it rip down his spine, making him jump as the urge boiling deep down inside of him grew and he knew he couldn't stay within the same room anymore. Not anywhere within 30 feet of the man. It perhaps hadn't been as bad as he first made it out to be, but now....it was getting worse.

His muscles felt strained and coiled and he couldn't get them to relax. Blood was pounding in his ears, thumping angrily until it was bashing against his skull, rushing up beneath his skin like it was going to break through the surface, beating down on his lungs and forcing all the air out. He couldn't force himself to focus on anything, but the thought that he had to leave.

Eyes trained forward, he stood and made a silent exit, trusting that one of the older ones would remind the children of their bed times.

---

Cold, biting air blew against his skin, quenching the fire that had been lapping at his flesh. He let out a breath that was lost in a gust of wind that blew against him. He didn't even care that it completely messed mussed his hair, curls haphazardly sticking out; getting in his eyes.

He didn't care, he really couldn't as he sat on the porch of the church, engulfed by the darkness of the night. What had overtaken him back in the church....he hadn't felt in a rather long time.

As he sets into one final tale for the evening Lai watches out of the corner of his eye as the false priest begins radiating a bit of his demonic aura before standing and practically fleeing out of the church. 'Serves him right' he thinks with a silent laugh at the sight, however moments later he notices the children turning their attention on the retreating man. Confusion sweeps through him again as they all begin to murmur softly with worried eyes. 'They. . . .They really do care for him. . .How can that be? Humans have always feared and rejected demons, as they should. And before, instead of striking back at the pain I gave him like the beast he is. . .He. . .prayed. . . .' With a soft sigh he catches the children's attentions and launches into his short tale.

They all watch him with wide eyes, glancing at the door every so often. When at last the tale is over one of the other children thanks him with a warm shy smile and begins herding the littler ones off to bed. He pats a few on the head, standing and looking towards the door as well. Despite his anger his curiosity grows as one of the older children hands off her stack of bowls she's been clearing off the tables and pews to another and begins moving towards the front door. Driven partially by his need to understand what is going on, but mostly for his desire to protect the human child, he stops her mid way and offers he a warm smile. “Are you worried about the father?” He manages to say the word without any venom in his voice. She nods, looking to the door again.

His smile warms a little at the sight of her honest concern and he reaches out and pats her shoulder gently. “I'll got get him then. You should finish your chores. I am sure you all have beds you need to get to, and I think I know why he's out there.” She nods, a little confused but his fine features and holy aura settles her mind. With an nod and smile she goes back to clearing the dishes left by tired guests and Lai looks to where he can sense the demon. 'I think it's time we talk a bit, demon. . . .' Walking slowly he lowers his energy, not wanting to look threatening and prompt the beast into attacking. Opening the door he shivers at the cool breeze, stepping out carefully before closing it and leaning against it.

The demon is only a few paces away, the rushing air tossing about his hair haphazardly, his priestly robes fluttering quietly. Instead of approaching him right away he gives the male a few moment, beating back his own anger for now, wanting answers first before anything else. Once he is sure he's in control of himself, instead of approaching the demon he walks off to the side a bit, leaning on the porch railing and taking in the night air with long, slow breaths. After about a minute he at last speaks up. “I'm surprised you didn't lose it in there. So much so in fact that I'm willing to listen, free of judgment, for now at least.” Casting half a glance at the beast he says a little softer, “I followed you stupid demands, all but leaving, though time for that is yet to pass. Even among you kind that should earn me a little something.” He manages not to sound too upset with the other male, but he can not help his natural angelic distaste to show though when he said “your kind”.

He sensed him, long before he heard the door creak open and his footsteps echo on the hollow steps leading up to the church, and his aura eating away at the darkness with a feverous light. He opted not to turn around and subject his eyes to such an unendurable sight. Choosing to instead focus on the thin smog breaching the night line of the great walls of the city in the distance, though his ears couldn't help but follow the angel's movements. Tracking his every move as drawing a mental image in his mind as to the other's position in relation to his, planning out possible escape routes, points of attack...etc. Old strategies and battle plans resurfacing in his mind, probably having long been executed and changed without his involvement. That shouldn't have stirred such feelings of frustration and anxiety within him.

The silence didn't help, mainly because he couldn't focus on the silence. The whisper of a passing breeze, the breathing of the man across from him, the grinding of hidden gears within the clock tower right above them, ticking ever continuously and ever agonizingly loud and berating to his ears. When the angel finally broke that chaotic symphony of 'silence', the demon sighed and shifted, keeping his gaze fixed to the cobbled road ahead of him, "There is no such thing as 'free of judgement' and I advise that if you wish to earn the respect or favor of any other of 'my kind' , then you ought to resort to senseless violence and bloodshed instead."

Gathering himself, he turned to fix the demon with a deadpanned stare, "Do not come into the house of Our Father and believe that your white wings give you right to pass judgement and infringe the privacy of another. You are a guest to this house, taken in on the morales and belief of our sanctuary, that does not give you the right to actively mistreat another or take advantage of what kindness has been laid on you this far."

"I will put this simply and I believe it is rather fair in all reason. The war has not touched this place for a good century, I will not allow you to bring it to this place again. As I have left it behind, you will leave behind all notion of whatever rivalry still thrives between my and your kind whilst you are here. You will not antagonize me nor lay a hand to harm those who reside here and as all guests, once your stay is up, you will leave and not speak of what you know of this place to anyone."

He stood, wind swept robes billowing somewhat, and turned back to the church. Feeling mildly better, less...lost in the past at least. He nodded at Laisander, "Do get to bed on time, lights out has long since started." He said with as much indifference as he could muster before crossing the distance of the last few steps leading up to the church and slipping inside. He didn't let himself break his stride, feet carrying him all the way back to his chambers were he was determined to continue on his bed routine without a hitch or hesitation. Hopefully, they little meeting had resolved his problem, but after a few peaceful moments of nonchalant silence, they nagged him once more.

Combat practices, the feel of steel and the shock of the recoil....his fingers itched, was he really pistol whipped now? The thought made him chuckle tiredly as he slipped inbetween the sheets and blew out his candle. Perhaps a restless night's sleep would turn things for the better tomorrow.

'I can't believe it! I show him a modicum of respect and courteousness and he throws it back in my face!Well. . .At least he's willing to admit his kind are bloodthirsty monsters' Lai watches the beast stand, careful to keep his face neutral despite his growing need to teach this foul thing a lesson. He would not be the first one to crack in this. He would not desecrate holy ground by spilling out this demon's blood over nothing more than a petty insult. As his cool but polite gaze remains on the demon his mind screams for him to stop telling lies. He has done no invasion of privacy, he's simply asked a question! He has mistreated no one, even though the demon deserves it! He has taken no rights not naturally his as ordained by the lord God, especially on holy ground.

He keeps his breathing even, even managing to keep his aura under control as the false father goes on and on with his falsehoods. It is not until he speaks on the war and the rivalry between their races that his calm expression shifts. However it is not into anger or spite, but one of curiosity. 'Is he serious? He is here to keep the war away? What in all that's holy is happening that has him doing such a. . .Such an angelic thing? Or. . . .He's not lying, not that I can tell, and I'm good at spotting lairs' His eyes narrow ever so slightly, as if trying to see the male better. 'And does he really think I would harm anyone here? I know angels have caused their fair share of human deaths, but he speaks as if I would arbitrarily just go about killing them for fun or something. . .'

His eyes remain locked on the spot even as the demon passes him and walks inside, the large door closing surprisingly quietly. His mind and heart are in conflict, and one he knows he can not resolve by morning. 'He acts like he actually wants to protect this place, these humans, like a proper priest should. But I can see the evil, the demonic aura, it's still there. It grows, pulsates. . .But, he. . .Everything he's said is almost exactly what I would say to a demon trying to come into a church I'd decided to protect. . .' He punches the railing, fracturing it. “Drat.” He mutters, doing his best to make it less broken. Construction is not really his forte.

Once the fracture is almost invisible he turns to look at the church. 'He's a demon! He knows it, he doesn't deny it, and he practically challenged me to fight him, like he needed some excuse to attack me! Why, how!? What the holy heaven is going on?!' with a frustrated sigh he once more follows the demon's instructions and heads inside, plodding belligerently to his room. As he tucks his hand into his pocket he pauses for a moment at the feeling of cold metal. About half way to his room he stands, his mind racing, then slowly he pulls out the bullet. Looking it over, running his fingers along the surface, tracing his name, well, his nickname 'I guess my full name is too long for a bullet' he simply lets himself go for a moment. He relaxes, keeping his energy in though so the demon doesn't take it as an attack.

“What do you really want here. . .Father. . .” He asks the air softly, not expecting an answer. After a long moment he sighs once again and slips the silver hunk of metal into his pocket and continuing to his room. Once inside he lays slowly on the bed, staring at the ceiling, doing as asked and not praying as to not alert God of his location. God can always find his angels, but prayer would actually catch his attention. 'The demon prayed. . .If he was really praying, God knows he's here, and is letting it. . .' It is that thought more than anything else that lets Lai catch a few hours of sleep that night, staying up most of the time trying to figure it all out on his own, and the rest raging against the demon's presumptuousness. When at last the first rays of light appear outside his winder the angel wakes, and without a sound leaves the church. No one sees him, and an hour later when little Javier races to his room to wake him he finds the empty room, a sadness on his face that Lai is not there to hug away.

~*~*~*~*~

The head of his unit gave Lai the same old speech upon his return, Laisander's habit of spending time on earth without checking in an old issue but not one the arch angel really has a problem with. Lai took the speech in stride, promised to do better next time, and over the following week did his best to stay in line. Near the weeks end he headed home to spend time with his family, all the while unable to shake his thoughts about the demon. It isn't until he leaves home and heads back to work that he realizes he has to do something.

~*~*~*~*~

Looking over his personal log Lai notes that he has actually quite a few of off days that he has racked up over the years. 'I could use these. . .' he muses. Biting his lip he looks around the room, most of his bunk mates either eating or gossiping, a few playing ball and horsing around. Normally this would irritate him but at the moment he's actually glad that they are not bothered by the same thoughts plaguing his own mind. 'I'm actually kinda glad that they can goof off right now. . .Almost makes me with I could too. . .But this. . .' Pressing his fingers to his forehead he lets his lip go and a long breath hisses out between his teeth. A few angels look at him funny, but they all know he's antisocial and don't bother to ask what's up.

With his log in hand Lai hops down from his bed and heads to the unit captain. He arranges two days off starting the moment the request is in. As soon as everything is in place the captain raises an eyebrow curiously. “Didn't get enough of you family during leave?”

Lai simply stares at the man until he shrugs and walks away. 'Sorry, but any answer I would have given would have sounded so guilty. . .' With that he races out of the facility and makes for the nearest gate. Once outside he heads to earth, staying in the clouds until he's where he wants to be. It is a sunny morning at the church but he lands a good mile and a half away for obvious reasons. He takes his time getting there, his clothes the same as before but a bit cleaner now that he doesn't have to hide so much. He also takes the time to package his aura, not wanting it to send the priest into a frenzy on sight.

Walking into the shopping area along the road he pretends to look at a few things before making his way towards the church. The sound of children is like music to his ears and he makes his way around to the side yard where the younger children are playing. 'Must be after morning chores already' As soon as they spot him watching several of them squeal and race to greet him. 'What can I say, I love kids, and kids love me' He laughs, ruffling hair here, patting back there, returning hugs best he can while still standing. Javier actually climbs like a monkey up his side until Lai props him properly against his hip. “Well, seems like I've been missed!” He says cheerily, glancing at the nearest wall and wondering how the demon is going to react.

“We were afraid you were gone for good!” a girl pipes up.

“Yeah, you were just gone, like magic!” Says a young boy hanging off his free hand.

“Javier cried!” The group laughs at the declaration and the boy in question begins denying it vehemently. After a few seconds he wriggles his way of of the angel's grip to go chase his accusers and Lai laughs happily.

“Children are such gifts. . .” he murmurs, watching them play fight, running around with abandon, their innocence like bright shiny stars.

The next morning begins with him having a near heart attack, despite the odds of that ever happening were close to nil. The soft cry of despair coming from far down the hallway reaches his ears like a thunder storm, creating the same effect that a real thunderstorm would produce on a young child or a very paranoid astraphobic adult.

He still can't shake his old habits or skills rather. His body reacts even before his eyes fully open, rolling out of bed to land in a runner's starting position on his knees. The blood's pumping through his veins like horses on a racetrack. The doors feels like a sheet of paper, barely blocking his way as he barrels through it and down the hallway. Robes flapping wildly, hair completely disheveled and a deep purple hue beginning to creep up onto his skin, he looked like a madman racing down the hallways. Thank the moon that very little were awake at this hour, most of them reluctant to leave their warm beds after a late night. They'd rather turn their heads and bury themselves in their woolen blankets than investigate the soft whoosh whispering past their doors in the early morning. And as he counts the many closed doors that he races by and the heartbeats behind those doors, his lungs and heart nearly collapse in on themselves when he reaches the eleventh door and finds it wide open and abysmally empty.

He was going to kill the man. He was going to push his spinal cord so far up his body until it snapped and protruded out from his neck should the man have touched a single hair on Javier's head! He was going to break every single bone and pluck out each feather one by one from his wings if he found a trace of his aura clinging to the boy! He was going to-

"He's gone, Father! He left without saying goodbye!!" A tearful Javier runs up to him just as he skids to a stop by the open door. Burying his head against his midriff and sobbing softly. The bedroom stinks of an angelic presence, but it's only residual and the boy is unscathed, at least physically so. Catching his breath, he kneels down to wrap his arms around the boy and picked him up. It had been a while since he had carried any of the younger ones, most having outgrown the age where they should be coddled. Javier was still as light as a feather though and didn't seem to protest his embarrassment like he usually did. Clinging to him in the midst of his sniffling. Gently, he brushed away those tears and tried to soothe him.

"Now, you know he couldn't stay forever, Puer. He probably had something important to rush to."

"Like what? I wanted him to tell us more stories...and teach me how to be strong like him and you..." The boy sniffled.

Bouncing him gently in his arms, he started on the path back to the boy's room, "Don't you enjoy my stories already? There, there, don't be upset. There's nothing to be crying over. C'mon, go get cleaned up for breakfast and afterwards I'll tell you a new story alright? An extra long one, but only if you stop crying. We don't want the others to see tears pouring from your eyes now do we?"

The boy nodded sorrowfully and for his sake, he blocked Javier's view of the heads and tiny eyes peering out from behind their doors. They disappear once he glances over his shoulder, after gently ushering the boy in.

As much as Javier was sad and as glum and solemn the other children were, even the older ones, for the entirety of the day, after having not seen their guest at the breakfast table and hearing from a red eyed Javier, he couldn't help but feel like a boulder had been lifted from his shoulders.

---

And as the days rolled by and their memory of their guest slowly faded with the intake of more guests and the daily grind of chores, Xephos felt like things had returned to normality. The urges inside of him having subsided and the corners of his mind having dulled once more; thoughts coming slower, no tactical plans...memories...Just the peaceful concentration on what really mattered.

And the pantry was stocked and the fireplace was given a good cleaning after the stove was fixed though the heavy scent of stew still lingered for many nights after and he considered having a stew made every week or so just for variety's sake. Blessings were given and the rare sermon conducted to those who would listen, stories were told on the regular and he hadn't felt this refreshed in a while.

Perhaps the angel's brief stay had been a blessing in disguise, certainly, it had reminded him to get his priorities back in order. What mattered most were the children, their safety and well being, not whatever sentimental temptations still lingered. Yeah...it hadn't been such a bad thing.

On Monday, he carved out another cross from a slab of wood, whittling down behind his locked door. What it symbolized didn't matter to him, but the fact that he had made it...meant something.

On Tuesday, he replaced the rosary beads around his neck.

On Wednesday, he trimmed down his claws until they couldn't be called claws.

On Thursday, he had to pen down a lengthy order for new mechanical parts to improve the church since they had come into a small profit of trade from a gratuitous trader who had spent the night and left some of his goods behind when he left. It was ways a shame when such people had to leave, the children had just started to take a liking to him as well.

On Friday, he got a chill and wondered if it was possible for his immune system to actually break down.

Saturday and Sunday seemed to go by in a blur.

---

Monday rolled by and he'd let the children out to play since it looked like a nice day. Their laughter brightened his morning, distracting him partially whilst he cleaned up the podium, whistling a toneless tune. (Oil stains always seemed to appear in the strangest of places.)

And then the laughter stopped momentarily and though that should not have worried him greatly, he suddenly felt anxious. Maybe he'd just check quickly, to make sure that they weren't getting into any trouble.

Their laughter had resumed by the time he stepped out the door and relief flooded into him. How silly he was to worry about nothing. His gaze softened as he watched the children stop and wave to him, eyes bright, wide smiled and all...And then they'd pointed towards the man and he froze for a moment.

Unconsciously, his feet led him in slow strides towards the man and a smile stitched itself onto his face despite the slight reddish tint that colored his eyes.

"Good morning, my son. I did not expect you here on this day." He said softly, stopping inches in front of the man. The sarcasm and questioning tone of his voice only evident to the man, "Perhaps it will do you well, to rest after what I'm sure is your weary travel back here. Children, do not tire our guest, he needs his rest." He wondered if he could sneer and have it go unnoticed, but turned his back before he could consider it and strode slowly back towards the church.

The chase only lasts about a minute before the children simply start playing once more, turning the chase into a game of hound and hare, with Javier as the hare. Laisander watches with a broad smile, acting as the rabbit hole where the boy can stand and breath for a few seconds before being chased again. 'It's almost like the games my cousins play, but a bit more fun and less training involved' As his family is very steeped in the military life, even as young ones they play fight more than anything else, practicing maneuvers from stories their older relatives tell them about. When he feels the demon exit the building he remains still, watching the children despite his natural urge to turn and face the beast.

He watches the children, not even looking up when addressed instead smiling and ruffling little Javier's hair as he once more comes to stand beside the angel. “Good morning father, it's good to be back.” he replies softly, shooing the boy off as the false priest tells them to leave him alone. His voice is soft, non combative. He wants to know more, and fighting the man would to little in the way of getting him answers. 'Especially with how afraid he is about them finding out about him. Of all “orders” he's given me, that one seemed the most serious of the bunch' He sighs softly, following the demon a few paces, just far enough to not be overheard by the children, before stopping and saying just loud enough for the demon to hear, “I seek no quarrel with you. . . .Father. I will follow these rules of yours, though most are unnecessary to state as I really do love children.”

Stepping in a little closer to the demon, carefully hooking his arm to turn him a bit, not wanting to have to follow the man all the way inside. His touch is gentle, and devoid of his holy grace. “And before you get your panties in a bunch, keep in mind you never once said I could not come back. I've done as you have so politely requested of me, and even ignored your less than polite death threat. This is a house of God and I have rights to be here as one of His sons. I do not need to do as you ask, but I have. By your own words I should be trying to beat some respect out of you, but as you've taken to the guise as a man of the cloth I expect you to abide the same laws the rest have to follow.”

Letting go and stepping back he sighs again. “Your flock is safe, from me at least. I worry for them with you around and you can not even pretend to blame me for that. You are a demon, you are all well known for your evils against humans, and until I hear the truth of it I will come and go as I please.” His tone is very calm, his face relaxed, not wanting to alert anyone to the tenseness of the very one sided conversation. A few kids stop to look every once in a while, but they have learned that sometimes grown ups just need to talk. Very softly he adds, “No one knows I am here. I'm on my own time. A vacation if you will. No one will bother to look for me. . .No one care enough to do that.” That final little confession about his relationship with his fellows is quite unintentional and he doesn't even notice he said it. He remains still, waiting to see what the demon will do, his only movement to look over his shoulder at the children now playing on the near ancient play equipment.

((Can I also blame you for changing my style from past tense to present tense? ))

It sends a sharp electric shock up his arm and he visibly tensed, shoulders raised and hands clenched into fists. He grits his teeth and turns to face the man. All his senses on fire and his entire body on high alert. The touch shouldn't have made him react like that, especially not one that was just a touch. People have touched his arm and shoulder before. And those who could, though there were very few people that were able to, sneak up on him from behind and tap him square on the shoulders hadn't made him react like he was about to find some great beast right behind him.

And it takes a moment for the angel's words to fully reach him and even longer for him to process it over the roaring in his ears. It overwhelms his senses for a good minute. The world flashes white and he feels that urge inside of him lift it's head up from it's heavy slumber and he hurries to soothe it before it can fully awaken from it's slumber before he focuses fully on the man stood before him and his seemingly sincere words.

There is the misconception, that demons are gifted with the gab; able to twist the truth and manipulate their words into an unrecognizable mess of double meanings, puns and ominous foreshadowing. And if they can't, then they're excellent liars as well. While, angels are supposedly cursed with the inability to tell a single lie be it harmless or not. He doesn't know exactly how the mortals were able to come up with such a classification of liars and honest good doers, but it's not completely untrue. It was much more like how if one chose to be an architect, they would have to learn to be practical and artistic. It wasn't an inborn trait, but it came with the trade. And after all that being said, angels usually were more honest, but they also had the habit of sounding more sincere than they actually were.

Something to do with their aura or just the entire image of justice and righteousness associated with them that made it so easy for people to be taken in by their warm assurances and promises. And Xephos wanted to believe him, let himself put faith in that goody goody image of the angel, yet he knows better than to trust so easily.

He doubts it honestly, even if he knows the angel is truthful about his love of children. He doesn't believe that the angel has come all this way here just to hear him give some sort of confession even if he can follow what rules have been preset for him. He doesn't trust that the angel is here on his own time, though if he is, then chances are that it would not be for too long. He would just have to wait it out. It's not like he can kick him out without either one of them creating a scene.

He knows that he shouldn't care either as long the angel didn't cause any harm to the children, that life is a long ways away. He has no quarrel with either side not any involvement in any part of the war. And he doesn't want even a hint of it to spill over here.

"I am not in a guise." He blurts out a little too quickly in response, then collects himself and straightens. Letting out a silent breath of air before he continues, "Here, I am the one who manages this sanctuary. It is not a vacation home for you to come and go as you please. Keep up your own guise and stay as long as you think you can. The rules stand as before, and I stress very carefully, you refrain from showing yourself to the mortals."

His gaze narrows and his mouth was sets itself in a thin line as he seemed to contemplate what he wishes to say next, "These people here don't need anymore trouble added onto their lives." He adds on with a dead panned tone before he turns on his heel and strides back towards the church.

Javier comes up running into Laisander's arms soon after, squealing with laughter as several other children try to maneuver around the man to catch him. He dodges them, trying to stick close to the man and avoid their reaching arms. This goes on for several more rounds of 'catch' before one of the older children appears and tries to usher them inside for lunch. Tries to

"Can we have lunch outside today? Like a picnic?" One child cries out and is immediately followed by several more pleading cries and wide eyed stares.

"Did you all not have a picnic a few weeks ago?"

A chorus of 'no's follow and the elder child sighs and punches the bridge of her nose.

"Alright, alright, only if Father Xephos allows it." A series of cheers and then more worried looks. The eldest usually went along to ask and in this case, they didn't have an elder, but child minds then to be quick in coming up with solutions, even more so in manipulating the feeble adult mind with a weapon known as child like cuteness. Laisander's was left defenseless an helpless against such a fearsome thing.

The sudden snapped answer surprises the angel, causing his head to whip around. He tenses slightly but relaxes, realizing the absurdity of what the demon is trying to claim. 'Is he seriously trying to claim the has taken up the cloth? That's. . . Not possible, is it? But, if he has, and any of that praying is real, then. . .God knows he's here, and is letting it happen!? How!?' He has to calm himself down with a long breath before he feels open enough to listen to the rest of what the other male has to say. He listens quietly, his gaze once more relaxing even at the absurdity being presented him.

A faintly sad note enters his voice as his gaze drops. “I would not show myself anyways. I know how humans would panic at the sight of me. . .” At the final declaration Lai is ready to agree with the man, however before he can even lift his gaze the beast is walking away, too far now to speak up without sounding like he's yelling at the demon. With a slow exhale he watches, his head tilted to the side. 'He seriously believes what he's saying I think. It's not like we angels bring the war down on the people for fun, or even on purpose most times. It's like, he blaming me personally for the suffering of these people! I have never harmed a human, even on accident!'

He lets out a small noise, almost like a low growl, at being judged by a demon of all things, but it is the only sign of his indignant feelings. 'If I want answers, I mustn’t goad the beast. He seems ready to explode as it is and if he goes over the edge the little ones will be the least of his concern' His eyes narrow as the priest vanishes from sight and he lets out a hissing sigh. 'What is the world coming to when Yahweh himself suffers a demon to dwell unchallenged on holy ground. . .' With another sigh, this one sounding tired, he turns just in time to catch hold of Javier, chuckling as the rest of the kids follow, too excited to follow the rules of the game.

He simply stands around watching as the game wraps up, glancing up as one of the older youths come out. 'Oh, it's the girl who greeted me' He smiles at her, earning a blush. The color does not go unnoticed by the angel but as he knows better than to let it get to him he lets it pass, quickly switching his focus on to the youngsters gathered around him. As they begin to plead with the elder he smiles, adding his own happy inquiring eyes to the group. Once they get the okay though they all suddenly turn to him. His eyes go wide. “What?”

They tug on his hands and arms. “Go with us!”

“Yeah, pleeeaassee!?”

“It's better with an adult asking, and you agree, don't you?”

Lai's stomach drops a bit. 'I don't know kids, I may actually hurt your case here. . .' However, as it is with the little ones at home, when those bright shining eyes lock on to him with the sincere plea behind them he quickly gives in, letting out a half laugh before a gentle sigh. They all cheer and crowd around him as he heads inside to find the father, positive the demon isn't ready to see him yet. The children hush when they finally find the priest and as soon as he's sure he's got the man's attention he gives him a soft smile. “The children are wondering if they could have a picnic outside today. They seem to really want it.” He bats his eyes cutely, looking very much like one of the little ones who take it from there with please and big shiny eyes.

Children are far more tactical and calculative than one would ever think. They corner him while he's relighting the lamps along the altar where the great figure of Mother Mary stood, looming over all who came to pray. Hands clasped together, head bowed and eyes closed in eternal prayer. Some of the oil had spilled out onto the base of the pedestal, soaking into the porous stone and making it start to erode in on itself with all the air pockets now trapped inside.

He wasn't sure what he would do when the structural integrity of the base of the statue was compromised. If it fell down on someone someday, considering it was made of solid granite and weighed a ton, he wasn't really sure how exactly they would replace it...nor what they do about the unfortunate victim under the statue, but that seemed less important to him. The statue had been a pillar in the church for a long time, having stood the test of time. It had been a constant fixture in their lives, a sort of special symbol. The children had passed by it everyday to the point that didn't even see it anymore when they walked passed it, but surely they would notice it when it finally crumbled. If it was any time soon. Who knows, by the time that this sentimental piece of carved stone had finally worn itself away, the children might already have grown up and gone away. Gotten married, settled down with kids, lived long full and happy lives. And he would be....elsewhere.

For a moment, he put down the lighter and leaned against the stone. Taking a moment to himself before soft footsteps from behind make him whirl around to find the one person he wanted to see least, armed with a crowd of children. God have mercy.

It's not an outrageous request by any means, but the children did just have their lunch outside the previous week and he didn't want the dirt and dust to get into their food. Something that happened often when they were half busy kicking up the soul and playing around their food.

The angel wasn't not helping his decision either and for a second he felt an urge. Not the urge, but a lesser one that just wanted to take the back of his hand and connect it with the man's cheek in order to hopefully knock out those annoyingly bright eyes. He doesn't wish for the urge to get any stronger and turn into something else though and he doesn't think he can handle the wide eyed stares of disappointment the children often give when they're not given what they want. He spoils them a little, that he has to admit.

"Fine, I will allow it, but Athena will supervise you and you will have to listen to what she says. If I hear one complaint that you've misbehaved, then you shall have to assist me in lighting up all the lamps in the dorms." He gives an ultimatum which the children don't really hear over the sound of their cheers.

"Father, why don't you join us?"

"Someone has to take care of the church whilst you play." He politely declines,knowing that there is still much to do around the church and he isn't in the most sociable of moods. Wishing the children a good time, he turns to continue his relighting of the oil lamps, but he doesn't fail to pick up Javier's insistence and tugging at Laisander's sleeve.

"Quick! Quick! Convince Father Xephos to come to the picnic with us! You have to!" He cries and the rest of the children are quick to beg as well.

The angel does his best to remain sill, the only part of him really active those annoyingly bright eyes most with faces like his can pull off with little to no effort. 'Sometimes it pays to not be overtly “Manly”, though I'm not sure the qualifies. I get the distinct impression he's more annoyed by this expression than swayed by it, but I can't help it. The kids are being cute, and I wanna be cute too. . . .Even if it is in front of a demon. If he's really reformed he should have any problem with me playing the innocent I know myself to be. I may have slaughtered many of his kind, I never once enjoyed the killing, nor have I harmed any humans'

The children quickly work their magic and at the cries of delight at getting the okay he gives the demon an honestly grateful smile, the joy of the children something he is truly happy to see and feel. A moment later however he is distracted by the ever exuberant Javier trying to get even more out of the angel. 'Me, convince him of anything? I think at this point it's near blackmail and an more would be mean on my part' He glances at the demon priest. 'If I'm ever going to get anything out of him, I have to play by the rules'

Scooping up Javier, Lai props him on his hip and ruffles his hair. “The farther here has his work to do and it wouldn't be right to drag him away. After all, he does it to make sure you can go out and have fun. We should let him be so he can get it done quickly, then maybe later you all can bog him down with some fun activities?” The children giggle and cheer and with a final smile at the dutiful priest the angel heads out with the children. A few dart off to go find the appropriate persons an items for the activity. Laisander smiles at this, the children a well oiled system if he's ever seen one.

Once outside he sets Javier down and they begin working on picking a spot for their meal. After some fussing they find a patch of earth on the right side of the church to keep the breeze mostly away and far enough from the grass that they will see any ants coming a long way off. Just as they confirm no pests in the area the rest of the pack arrives with all the fixings, including of course a giant picnic basket carried by a tall girl Lai presumes is Athena. He had seen her in passing the day before and as she looks upon him with a soft smile Lai returns the look with a nod and half smile of his own. 'The older ones are definitely kept busier than the little ones. I think I've met all the kids, but the teens are a different story. Is this place mostly staffed by youth?'

Thinking back on it he realizes that he had not seen a single other priest. 'I was so focused on the false father I suppose I could have missed them. But, even if there are others, there can't be that many. . .' Letting out a sigh he helps the little ones set up and soon they are all sitting and laughing and enjoying their meal. Lai manages to keep them from running around too much with the help of Athena and soon they are all down to their desserts. As soon as the small cups with ice cream are handed out, the little tongue depressor shaped bits of wood that come with them digging in with relish in place of spoons, they all turn to the angel and without a word beg for a story. With a fond smile he nibbles on his own ice treat and obliges.

Javier has a sad little look pass over his features for a good minute before he lets himself be convinced by Laisander, waving goodbye to Father Xephos. Satisfied by all the reassuring smiles that are shot his way and encouraged by the cheers and cries of joy from his fellow peers, he's off running the moment his feet hit the ground. Tousled head of hair bouncing up and down with the other children as they proceed to continue their game of tag, chasing each other around the yard before one of the elder helps herd them up for Laisander to focus them on picking a spot for their picnic. The children are excited, barely able to hold sill whilst they go around the backyard, crying out their opinions about each and every spot until they found the 'perfect' spot for their picnic which coincidentally was the exact spot they had picked the week prior, but they couldn't be trusted to remember that in their excitement.

Next comes the debate on what game to play after as those sent out return with all sorts of toys and props that were grabbed unthinkingly in the excitement. Working like a military faction, throwing out strategies that wouldn't work out or had the slightest kink in them until they reached a decision that everyone could agree on, but by then of course, Athena had gotten fed up and was calling them all to eat before all the food she had painstakingly set out got cold. It was a good day.

Within the church walls though, Xephos busied himself in his work. Having relit and refueled all the oil lamps, he was heading down to the west wing. Making a mental note to change the wheels on the cart or oil the joint before the whole thing came apart. It might right now if he wasn't careful. So he was careful in wheeling it down the long stretch of corridor. He was careful when he stopped at each door, careful in putting down the stopper to make sure it didn't roll away down the completely level corridor. Careful in sliding one tray out from the other before he disappeared into a room and re emerged, either to continue to the next or to grab something.

By the time he's finished his round, stored the cart and the trays properly, shelf all the books that have piled up on his journey to and fro, the children are already begging for a second story. It's a sight to see them, even surrounding the angel, they don't fail in making him smile when he exits the church. Staying back, he watches them from afar before Athena approaches him with an empty picnic basket hanging off her arm.

Bowing to him, he nods back and asks, "Would you mind helping Greta on her delivery? I'll take over watching the young ones." Athena nods, leaving without a word. Obedient child, she was sure to find her own niche in this place one day.

Settling in a shaded corner, he silently observes the children and their 'newly appointed' story teller.

Despite holding their rapt attention for over an hour, his own attention focused on recalling his accounts in such a way to make them seem more human, they all glance over when Lai pauses for a moment. They spot what he's looking at, tucked away in a shady corner of the yard, but as he is in the middle of his story they quickly look back to him with little whines. He smiles at the soft noises and continues. With grand gestures and even playacting little bits of it the story is a hit and as it comes to a close the children let out little war cries. Not a handful of seconds pass and they are up in arms, ready to slaughter the hoards of evil that are half the children acting like little demons.

In truth the story had been simple, a reconnaissance mission to a deserted part of the planet where there had been demon sightings but nothing confirmed. The only hitch of course was an attack by a rogue band of demons that had been hiding out there, not wanting to share their capture of a small group of frightened children. The demons had become bandits and the angels mercenaries on a job for the church, but still the children felt the need to vent their excitement in a playfully violent manner. Not wanting to get trampled Laisander scoops up the blanket, folding it expertly with a few quick turns and moving away from the rowdy bunch with little difficulty.

Stopping a few paces away from where the demon is seated Lai flops down himself without looking at the man. Instead he watches the children, two of the little ones tackling down one of the taller ones in a maneuver that would have made Lai's commander proud. He stays silent, the demon already knowing what he wants and feeling no need to push the point. 'Besides, I always start the actual conversations while he just tries to say his bit then storm off in righteous anger. It's his turn to either speak up, or once again blow me off. I have two days to start cracking this egg, and a ton more days I can come pester him on until I get my answers'