Season: Autumn
Time Period: Modern
Time Of Day: Midnight
Weather: Outside it is cool and slightly damp from days of rainfall but the skies are only partly cloudy. The wind whips around the city and within it in short but heavy gusts.
Setting: The Mega-City of Santa Muerte is one of near post-apocalyptic in how it looks. Towering sky-scrapers are worn and rusted and the city has fallen to decay even though millions still live within the city limits. Outside of the city is quickly fades to thick forests surrounding the circular layout of the city, there are no farms or suburbs. Just city and then forest that surrounds it as far as the eye can see. Roads from the city are hidden under the tree canopy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The moon hung high in the heavens as tendrils of clouds rolled through the night; the autumn night smelt of pine and maple as the winds cut through the shadowed fiery spectrum of flora. In the branches sat a feathered beast with talons dripping with the black essence of a broken heart. The forest floor was thick with fallen leaves and needles that crunched beneath the feet of a wandering soul.

Regret plagued a once bright face; features sagging under the strain of a pained chest. Eyes once brilliant now hollow as the sky after a storm; vision blinded by the salty sting of tears. To knees the wandering soul fell, auburn locks hiding the hands which held the weeping visage as she curled down; feeling the agony of strife that burned beneath her breast.

A blood curdling scream erupted with anger and pain from dusty lips; head craning back towards the sky above as blaze tinted tendrils washed down the back of the damaged soul like a lava fall to the forest floor.

“Why!”

There was no answer as she screamed, none would come and this only caused the rage to grow. Debris flew as fists clawed and flung this way and that out of desperation. The tears continued to fall as if trying to douse the wrath and resentment but it was futile. A fire such as this had to burn itself out and the one she bellowed to knew this.

The screams and wrath continued to echo through the silent forest that surrounded the decaying mega-city of Santa Muerte. A heavy sigh passed thin lips as he watched from the shadows through his dark blank eyes void of any detail. His shoulder length raven hair clung to head and fell to his shoulders as his broad figure observed the falling of a Seraphim.

“He won’t answer.” His voice deep and full of sorrow as he stepped into the moonlight. Her head bobbed as she sunk back to the forest floor and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to find some mock comfort in the embrace.

“He knew this would happen, why did he do this to me Uziel?” Her voice trembled as she gazed blankly before her. Sinking down next to her he crossed his legs and pulled his black trench coat tight around his chest.

“He didn’t do this to you, you did this to yourself. You were a gift of grace to a troubled soul and you let yourself grow too close. You knew better than to open yourself to such a creature. This is what happens when a Seraphim loves. I thought you would have learned by now. They can't be trusted,” Uziel said in a sorrowful voice.

“Was any of it real?” she asked as she swallowed the knot in her throat and her voice cracked. Uziel shrugged as he toyed with the leaves before him.

“Who besides Him knows the workings of a human heart; I would like to believe that it was for your sake. That it was merely pride and confusion that caused this and not maliciousness. Though looking back I cannot see it being anything other than a game to that mortal. You were a toy,” Uziel reached out and placed a calloused finger beneath her chin, turning her features to his own. “Either way, you did what you were sent to do I think. Now gather yourself and return home so that you may learn where you are to go next.”

She reeled back and shook her head frantically as she slid away from Uziel through the fallen foliage. Her eyes, so pained, looked at him wildly in disgust at the mere suggestion that she should just soldier on yet again like she always had. “No, not this time,” she spat.

“What are you talking about Af,” Uziel began but she growled and his voice fell silent.

“Do not call me that, she is gone,” she hissed through clenched teeth as she crouched there and a dark look spread across her features. Uziel knew the look of shadows all too well when it fell over a Seraphim; their faith had been shattered and his blank eyes grew sullen to see another fall from grace. As she rose, he did also; watching it consume her. She was as lost as those she had been sent to bring from the darkness; her aura faded and became tainted as the winds whipped around them.

“Of all the Seraphim, I never thought I see your fall,” he whispered, lids falling over sad eyes.

“He knew it would come,” she retorted and Uziel could only nod.

“That He did but even He must have had hope that it would not.” Uziels voice was empty as he spoke to the now fallen one. The once bright Seraphim turned and began to make her way back towards Santa Muetre, the City of the Fallen Seraphim. “What will you do?” he called out to her.

“What I should have done long ago,” was all her vengeful voice said as she continued to trudge through the autumn evening.

“I wonder what the punishment is for causing a Seraphim to fall,” he pondered to himself as he looked towards the heavens. Uziel let out a heavy sigh as he stepped back into the shadows, afraid of what wrath she would unleash on the unknown.

Flashback, First Meeting

The sound of a fist meeting a rib and cracking is the first thing that registers to Aharon as he is swept off to his newest charge. Shaking off the slight disorientation at being forcibly moved- he was not warned of a relocation this time- Aharon relaxed and excepted the information on the young man he was to help; Akseli, a derivative of the Hebrew name Axel, meaning Father of Peace.

"A strong Jewish name for a strong Jewish child," He looked into the alley where fist met flesh once more. "...if not an accurate name." He added. This boy certainly didn't want peace with the man he'd just left bleeding on the grimy ground of the alleyway. With a tilt of the head, Aharon began to follow the young man at a distance, winding through the city's darkening streets until they got quieter and they came upon a broken down house of worship. He watched the young man go in and gave himself a moment to think. He could already tell this boy would be a tough one; not yet old enough to drink away his sorrows and the boy's shadow is darker than many twice his age that Aharon has had to deal with. Taking an unneeded breath, the Seraphim opened the creaking door, raising his hand just in time to catch the bat directed at his head.

"You used a great force behind that swing, young one, it could have killed a lesser being." He always did like to get straight to the point, honesty and patience did wonderfully balanced together.

---

Akseli quickly retreated into the shadows of the Shul as the man made his voice known, eyes narrowed and muscles coiled tight, ready to attack. His Magen David clicked against the button of his jacket and he slipped it under his shirt to silence it.

"I tend not to be soft on people who followed me for an hour and a half." He spoke up, letting the empty building carry his voice and hide his location. Never the less, the man seemed to stare straight through the shadows and discern his figure out of the objects surrounding him.

"So you noticed me?" The man asked with a sincere smile. "Good for you."

"Gee, thanks." Akseli replied sarcastically, unnerved by the mans eyes finding him wherever he moved. "Glad I could impress someone who's not a 'lesser being'."

"You should be." The man replied, sitting on the dusty ground and watching Akseli pace like a cornered animal. "Though I admit humans impress me much more than they do many of my brothers and sisters, your ability to notice me following you so quickly is something to be commended." He watched, expression static as Akseli paused and mouthed 'humans?'. "Seraphim are not easily spotted if they do not wish to be; to be fair, I was following you for 2 and a half hours so it still took you some time."

"2 and hal-?! Seraphi- what the hell are you talking about?!" He demanded, throwing a piece of debris at the man lounging so casually on the ground. Said man merely caught the offending object and set it to the side.

"Hello Akseli, age 20, Jewish ancestry and sufferer of the Sin of Wrath; I am Aharon, a Seraphim Angel of the Lord, and I'm here to be your conscience as you seem to have a bit of trouble listening to the one you have as of current."

The first night for the Fallen was always the hardest to endure, Heavens light would fade quickly from the former Seraphim and the pain they would suffer was the things nightmares were born from. When you are touched by the Grace, born into the Light, to suddenly succumb to darkness it leaves a devastating scar on the heart, the soul, and the mind. Warping what was once so adored into twisted remains of torment and sorrow.

How a Seraphim confronted the Fall determined what their Sin would become. They would be vulnerable to all Seven but the first one which entered their heart and drove its dark dagger into was the one that took hold, curling its talons and locking into place.

The Fallen Seraphim, who now called herself Elisheva, was taken by Wrath. Her kindness replaced by anger, compassion with indifference, empathy with disdain. It wedged its ways through the fragmented walls of her heart, sewing its strands from piece to piece until it pulled taunt with resounding hold; stitching together the sharded remains. She had lost all her faith to bitter strife and her soul was now on fire.

Wings, once so majestic and ethereal, now tainted. Snowy feathers once tipped in golden essence now were soot ridden and dark edged; bone like talons ripped from beneath and curled inward in homage to the very ones that had slashed her from the Heavens and caused her Fall. Each stained with the blood of its host.

The Shadows played on her features as she trudged through the wilderness of the forest back towards the madness of Santa Muerte; casting a vengeful visage to haunt her face. Pursed lips hid clenched teeth and eyes that once shown as bright as the sky now where sea wrath; containing a maelstrom of emotion.

The forest floor gave way to pavement, the sound of boot scraping over concrete cut through the silent night as she moved. The winds would gust, humid and musty scents of the city wafting to the senses; growing more intense and lacing with decay with each step taken. The gentle creatures of the forest which used to flock to her during her evening strolls now hid in the shadows, afraid to approach. Her scent, once warm and welcoming, now warned them to stay away for it smelt of brimstone.

Stopping at the wall of the city she looked up at the cities silhouette and felt a certain odd kinship to it now. Rusted beams and broken windows, littered streets and shattered lights, broken dreams and false promises. It all resonated so clearly to her now as another step was taken, and then another. Her soul was burning and where she would traverse from here into the inner workings of the city was nothing but a shot in the dark; a random toss of the dice to see where her feet took her.

The moon tinged with crimson signaled to the Seraphim and the Fallen within the city that another had Fallen that evening. It was the one of the few signs from above to acknowledge the loss. A light mist fell from the tendrils of clouds that swirled through the night sky; tears from Heaven weeping, mourning for the soul that would now never return to their ranks.

So, to the streets she took and remained, wandering and watching. Wanting some twisted release from the pain and yet some sadistic desire to increase it tenfold; like a child picking at a scab or pressing on a bruise. Something to feel alive and conversely to be numb. On edge her eyes blinked at the flickering neon of a sign which read The Inferno before a cruel grin curled and tugged at the edge of her lips. It was as good a place as any to drown out her sorrows and perhaps more.

2 Years Later, Present Day

Aharon looked to the moon, dismay clear on his features. His wings curled around him protectively as hi pulled his knees to his chest. The slight crimson aura of the moon seemed to sting his very being. The mist was unnaturally chilled and his wings pulled around him tighter, the other occupant of the Shul unaware of the Seraphim's turmoil.

"Not another..." The being whispered to himself, leaning against the back of a pew, letting his head thunk against it without any thought. "And so we wait to cross paths." The pain in his words were obvious to any paying attention.

"What're you mumbling about?" Came a tired and irritated voice from the inside of the pew. Aharon didn't even flinch as a hand came over the top of the pew and dropped heavily onto his head. The sleep-drunk human heaved himself over the back of the pew and landed in front of the solemn angel, stretching out on the dusty floor and squinting up towards the moon. "It's a red moon man, shut up and sleep."

Aharon rolled his eyes and stared down at his charge. "It's a Crimson Tainted moon." He explained. "It signals that a Seraphim has been lost in a way worse than death."

Blank eyes stared back at him, hand motioning impatiently for him to continue.

"It means one of us has Fallen from Grace, from the light of heaven. One of us has been swallowed by the shadows that so consume you humans." He looked down at the young man and touched his nose, smiling when he jerked his head away and glared. "It's very hard to taint one of us, you should know that after having me around for so long."

"It's not like I've tried." Akseli snapped back. "Besides, one of your buddies isn't all high and mighty anymore, who cares?" He asked, smacking the Seraphim's shin- he couldn't kick him with his position perpendicular to the being the way it was. "You said they aren't dead, right? What's the big deal?"

"There are fates worth than death, Akseli." Aharon answered, ever the patient one. "I've heard that falling is painful. I came across a brother that fell many years ago. Not only was he unhappy to see me, but he was unlike his former self in every way. Where he was once charitable, he was now envious and a glutton for all others had. Where he would abstain from pleasure he now lusted for it. I asked him what had happened and..." A brief pause belied Aharon's discomfort. "He said his light had been torn out by the dark claws of reality."

The cool breeze that brushed Akseli's arm caused the boy to shiver and shift away. "This got you that upset?" He wondered, squinting at his guardian and the fuzzy glow illuminating his form.

"Hmm?" Aharon asked, confused. He noticed his charge's shiver and caught on. "Apologies. I didn't even notice that I had released them to your presence." After a moment's concentration, the cold of the wings became warm and the glow disappeared, allowing Akseli to once more become comfortable.

Tucking his arms under his head, the boy looked to the higher being with a very rare hint of concern. "Dude, you never let your wings out around me unless you're upset. And, you never get that spacey."

"..." His eyes never left the bloody moon as he whispered his next words. "I fear the damage of a single Fallen more than that of every shadow of Hell."

Elishevas sadistic grin grew, spreading across her features like a morbid plague with each step that stalked towards The Inferno.

The neon sign, flickering in a sickening fuchsia hue stained from the grim of time, hung over the decayed entrance; rocking ever so slightly with each gust of wind, threatening to fall from its precarious perch and crush whose ever time was up at a moments notice.

The door was worn and cracked beneath the peeling teal paint that curled at its edges. The brass handle turned to near algae from years of neglect turned with a banshee like whine as the Fallen pushed the door open.

Inside a cloud of smoke hung heavy from the ceiling as an endless supply of carcinogens rose from the burning embered tips of cigarettes and cigars held by various patrons or burning away forgotten in tin ashtrays.

It must have been quite the place of meeting some time ago. Even through the build up of dirt, spilt drinks and other perhaps unspeakable fluids one could still see the mahogany and oak wood work that lay on the floors and built the long bar that stood against the left length of the bar.

The door closed heavy behind her and heads turned, eyes peering towards her over the tops of half drunk bottom shelf whiskey and hands that should have been folded two checks ago. She noticed them not as she sauntered over to the bar and plopped down on a rickety barstool.

Resting her forearms against the rounded edge as her fingers folded together and her eyes locked with the bartender. The woman behind the bar was leaning against the back counter, a dirty rag swirling inside a tumbler in a futile attempt at cleaning.

Her eyes were a fiery blue and locks of raven hair streaked with grey fell to her shoulders. The leather bodice was cinched tight, her breast threatening to play peekaboo with the Fallen one who sat before her. Tight matching leather pants strained under the muscular legs as she took a step closer to Elisheva.

Her head tilted to the side as her eyes flashed grey for half a heart beat before a long sigh escaped her full crimson lips. Elisheva perked a thin brow, it arching deeply at the flash. She knew that glaze, she had just been auraed. The bar tender placed the tumbler on the counter, shoving the rag haphazardly into the hem of her pocket before resting both hands on the opposite side of the counter.

"When did it happen?" a sultry velvet voice asked.

"Tonight," Elisheva growled.

"And what do I call you now?" a inquisitive tone questioned.

"Elisheva."

"God is my wrath? Fitting, it was always in your blood anyways. How you fought it this long is beyond me," the woman quipped with a smirk on her lips as she tilted a bottle and let it fill a shot glass before sliding it over to the Fallen.

"Well, I don't know if I should be sorry for the fall or not falling sooner," Elisheva hissed before tossing the shot back and letting the liquid burn its way down her throat. Cringing slightly before lowering the glass after she swallowed. "Sera."

Mercator sits in a small office in the rear of his shop, The Shadow Bazaar, as a couple of his goons run things out front. after the fall business has become vastly more difficult, no online transactions, no stock exchange, Mercator had hoped to amass wealth like the corporate CEOs did. Alas, with the fall very few businesses exist and the ones that do only span two or three outlets across the city. Mercator smirks to himself, "thats why being a crime lord is much more profitable" he says aloud, but to nobody in particular.

one of the Shadow Bazaar goons knocked on the office door, "Sir, uh. Mr. Smith is here to see you." Mercator rose and opened the door, and looked to the malnourished Mr. Smith while carefully hiding any emotion behind a mask of good cheer, but thinking the entire time 'I hope he has his payment this time' then Mercator "Come in! come in! welcome." as Mr. Smith came in and as he closed the door to the office. the moment the door latched shut the good cheer evaporated, "Mr. Smith" says Mercator in a much more serious and grim tone "do you have you payment for this week?"

Mr Smith shifts uncomfortably in his chair, "w-well, that's why i'm here, i just need a couple days extension. i got a job lined up, should make me enough to pay, i just need a couple extra days." Mercator closes his eyes even before Mr. Smith finishes, he has heard it all before. a thousand times even before the fall, and a thousand more after. "yes, i am sure that is all true... but think of the position that puts me in Hmm? i cant have it known im letting you off easy, or Ms. Acer will be asking for extentions, and maybe Grumm will just stop paying. we cant have that now can we?" asks Mercator whos only reply was a terrified shake of the head. "now, i will give you the rest of the week, which would put you a full month behind, if you havent payed up by then... well, you will pay your pound of flesh. Understand?"

Mr. Smith nods and immediately leaves. Mercator marvels at the humans scurrying about in this way, so easily manipulated and coerced, then the though occurs. if Mr. smith pays up, in full, ill only make $8000 if i take him to that back alley butcher, i should make a tidy $20k from his organs... ah well. cant kill everyone for the quick buck, need other people to maintain the economy.

Smoke hung heavy within The Inferno and the stench of sweat and grim only seemed enhanced by it. Bringing out the subtle hint of death and decay that swirled with it from between the floor cracks. Remains of past brawls wedged between each like a sickening grout between tiles.

At the back most corner of the broken down establishment a stage sat that was surrounded floor to ceiling with chain link fence; an obvious barrier to keep the rowdy masses at bay when needed. Upon the stage sat the usual equipment a band would need to perform and said band quickly moved out from behind the door hinged into the wall; the only access point to the stage save a sturdy pair of steel cutters.

As the house band, The Taint, took the stage Elisheva picked up a smoldering half ashed cigarette from its resting place against the edge tin ashtray. The butt kissed with crimson lipstick from Sera. Elisheva inhaled deeply, the soft crackle of embers resonating to her ears as the cherry flared up.

Dark eyes watched the Fallen one with obvious interest from his seat at the end of the bar. He could have been thought of as rougishly handsome had he cleaned himself up. A strong jawline and chiseled features paired nicely with the muscular physique. Mores the pity it was hidden beneath too worn jeans and a scraggly flannel shirt that had see much better days.

He stood up, towering slightly over the average patron and pathetically attempted to saunter over to Elisheva with a dastardly grin on his lips. Grasping the mug of warm beer in his mits, he took a long pull as he came up to her; belching slightly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes," he said with a smile tugging at the corner of his features. Elisheva paid him no mind as Sera took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest. "I said.." he began as he was cut off when Elishevas hand quickly cupped his mouth with her hand to silence him.

"I heard you the first time," she retorted as she held the smoldering butt between her lips. Sera smirked coldly as the man ripped Elishevas hand from his lips and glared angrily towards her. Elisheva could only laugh in icy fashion as her wrist was held tightly in the man's rough grasp.

"Listen you bitch, I was just being friendly," he snarled as his grip tightened.

"Oh this is not going to end well," Sera muttered beneath her breath as she reached to the underside of the counter behind her. Her fingers curling against the long leather braided whip that she kept there for when moments such as this reached their inevitable height.

*Uzza walks silently his leather outfit along with his cloak was adorned today. Clear sign that he had owed a favor causing for his eyes to go from their usual blue grey coloration to an icy steel. He opens the door to the inferno with a barely audible slam his usual mood turned to an icy anger as he walks into the inferno. the only noticeable sign that the favor had involved killing was a small splatter of blood on his face and a small barely noticeable tear in his glove. He pauses somewhat seeing the commotion a small barely noticeable smirk appears on his face a sign that wrath was still in him as of this moment and that his usual quite self was gone. With a flourish he sits next to the woman being grabbed by the man leaning against the bar arms casually braced behind him. He faces forward but his cloak has parted enough for a gleam to come off of the scythe on his hip. It seems he is playing with them seeing what will happen with the current situation*

The door of The Inferno squeaked as it was pushed open, garnering the attention of Sera. Slowly pulling the whip from its resting place behind her she hooked it to her belt, covertly keeping a drifting eye on Elisheva in the meantime.

There was tension between the newly Fallen one and the simpleton. It hung heavy in the air as swirling tendrils of smoke wafted towards the ceiling from the smoldering cherry of the cigarette held between Elishevas ruby lips. The cancer stick flicked slightly as she rolled her lips in. Reaching up and pulling it from between her lips, her tongue gliding over the dry patch left by the butt as she looked towards the new comer and locked eyes with him.

The man's grasp on Elishevas wrist kept tightening as she ignored him, his muscles straining some causing a noticeable tremor to reverberate down Elishevas arm. Sera arched a curved dark brow as she stepped over to the one whom had just seated himself next to Elisheva and took note of the glint of weapon. Her eyes flashing grey for a moment as she looked at him, reading is aura and smirking slightly.

"Seems to be gearing up to be an interesting evening. What can I get for you?" Sera asked the newest arrival.

"Listen woman, I'm talking to you," the drunk spat. Elisheva did not faulter on her gaze to the new comer as the cigarette was pushed into her assailants hand, searing the flesh on contact. He released and Elishevas now free hand speedily moved to the back of the man's head and drove it face first into the edge of the bar top. The man sunk to the ground holding his now fractured nose beneath his burned hand, the blood streaming down his face as his eyes watered.

"Hello," Elisheva said nonchalantly as she placed the cigarette back between her lips.

"let's go get drunk." Akseli piped up, not moving his arm from its place across his eyes. "You're upset, right? People get drunk when they're upset."

A sigh from the other man allowed a smirk to alight itself onto his face as he waited for the higher being's inevitable response.

"Angels cannot get-"

"Drunk. Yeah, I know. Doesn't mean I can't." He snorted, hoisting himself into a sitting position. "And maybe just the act can change your mood; who the hell knows."

"You should learn to abstain from-"

"Sinful acts. I know that one too." Akseli stood up and stretched, grabbing his brass knuckles and pocketing them before making his way out the Shul doors. "You really need new material."

The scuffle against gravel alerted the young man to his guardian's following. "It's dangerous to be out on the night of a freshly Fallen." Aharon warned from behind the careless boy. "Imagine my power, with no inhibitions. And they're here, in Santa Muerte. Fallen flock here like bird to seed."

"And yet you're the one that turns into a bird." Was the biting reply. "I can take care of myself."

"Around humans, perhaps." Came the mutter from behind him.

"What?"

"I'm just adamant you stay careful and pick no fights tonight."

"We all know that ain't happening. Seriously, why do you even still try with me?" They made it to the doors of the Inferno and Akseli stepped in, stopping with a smirk at the scene of a man's face being introduced to the bar before him. "Call it quits and go help someone who wants it."

Silence was his reply, and he turned with a raised brow to his guardian.

"Can't handle all the sin?" He teased, going over and sitting at the only two empty seats at the bar, pulling the Seraphim down next to him and grinning at the bloodied face two stools down.

"Why must you sit next to one gallivanting around with weapons on display?" Aharon asked, ignoring the other's jab. With a cursory look around the bar, he flashed his eyes and Read those nearest to him, muscles tightening and his whole body shifting closer in protection to his charge.

A smirk and raised eyebrow was the only reply as Akseli waited for the bartender to acknowledge him. She must be a little busy with the current predicament, and he wasn't going to be an ass and demand attention from her.

*Uzza watches the man go down and smiles well... his lips move somewhat into what could be thought of as a smile and he holds up a finger to both and stands walks over to the guy and grabs him dragging him to the door by the shirt he then tosses him outside. The least violent scenario he was capable of. If the guy decides to go back inside well.. that is when he will get more violent. With a nod he walks back over to where he was and sits back down his voice sounds like what a storm would if it talked* "I will take your strongest drink..." *his hood now down as if to signify that he was not going to harm them he then looks over at Elisheva "Hello to you as well". His face more visible along with the small blood spot on his face his black hair only slightly messy. His eyes more blue grey then the icy steel they were but they still hold a hint of wrath just enough that if he is pushed wrong the scythes on his hips might end up lodged into something living*

What could only be described as a witches cackle broke from behind the tightly closed lips of Elisheva as the broken man was sufficiently tossed out the front door. She rose her shot glass to the man who took the trash out for her in approval once Sera had refilled it for her.

Snuffing out the final ash of the cigarette she flicked it in no direction in particular. A coy grin passed her lips as she brought the shot glass to her mouth; tossing it back quickly she let the shot burn its way down her throat.

"His is on me Sera," Elisheva said as she tossed a wad of grimy worn bills on the bar top.

"Nah, it's on me tonight," Sera quipped as she pushed the money back over to Elisheva. Grabbing another glass she placed it in front of the man and winked as she filled it up; the liquid slightly fogging the material as it lay in its cylindrical prison.

"To the newly Fallen, may your Wrath burn eternal and make Gabriel shit himself to know Kindness fell," Sera exclaimed with Pride.

"To me!" Elisheva chuckled with a wink. "So, have a name?" she asked the man next to her.

Turning Sera looked at the two newest arrivals and sauntered over to them with a sultry smile playing on her lips.

"What'll you have?" she asked as she leaned against the bar.

"Fallen, huh." Akseli turned from the fun and looked to Aharon. "What a coincidence."

The glare he received in return could freeze over hell itself. The bartender arrived and asked for his order, and he leaned against the sticky bar with a grin in her direction.

"Surprise me with a house favorite." He answered, giving his Angel a sideways glance. "Tight-ass here'll have a dark beer."

Let it not be said that even a pure Seraphim of patience cannot feel a great deal of wrath against his incorrigible charge.

*Uzza breaks out in a smile and chuckles. Watching all of this unfold he can't help it.*

*He nods to Elisheva his voice seeming quieter as his own wrath quiets down* "I am Uzza I am guessing you are the cause of the blood moon tonight... welcome to the darkness *With the welcome he gives his own smile seems that the rarity of his smiles were decreasing tonight*

*He then glances at the two new arrivals a look passing through his eyes his weapon still visible as if to be a warning and his recent actions a clear sign that he enjoys tossing people around.He then gives his full attention to the newly fallen angel*

"That I am." Elishevas voice was nearly chipper beneath the wrath laced infringement on her vocal chords. Leaning over and glancing down the bar towards Sera whose eye she quickly caught with an odd hand gesture and was given a wink in response.

"Right away," Sera quipped to the pair who came in mid face slam. Turning there was a bit of commotion coming from outside, wails and yells drifting in from the street but that was not uncommon in a city run by anarchy and strife. To most of the Fallen it was like a choir and one they enjoyed in the dark hours of the night. She paid it little mind.

"Names Elisheva," the Wrathful one said introducing herself as she leaned against the bartop and resting her chin on the palm of her hand as she watched Uzza.

To the bartop was rested a dark beer in a tall pint glass before Aharon, the head foaming slightly above the rim and holding on for dear life. In front of Akseli was placed a dark blood stained glass with a misting concoction that was softly aflame with white flickers.

"There you go," she said before refilling the shot glass before Uzza with the clear alcohol he had requested. "Anything else?"

*Uzza picks up the glass and tastes the vodka. He then gives a satisfactory look at the taste before tossing it back. It seems as if he has drunk strong liquor long enough to where it doesn't even burn in his throat anymore. He gently puts the glass back onto the bar top and shakes his head to Sera before going back to giving Elisheva his full attention once more*"Elisheva... interesting choice I like it. Nice to meet another one of wrath" *It seems that he had no problem with giving away all of his identity*

Akseli laughed when he saw the drink, giving Sera a nod in thanks as Aharon looked askance and the concoctions lain before them.

"You can't honestly expect me to-"

"I'm paying, your feathery ass better down every drop." Akseli snapped. "S'not like its so easy for me to come across money, y'know. I swear you're happy the fighting ring shut down."

"Of course I'm happy." Aharon answered, desperately ignoring the glass being pushed in his direction by his charge. "You'd have died there were it not for the police raid."

"I was the fuckin' champ! I don't know what fights you were watching, but I got to kick ass and make money doing it! Now I have to do it separately." Akseli griped, forcing the glass into the Seraphim's hand. "Drink, dude, or so help me I'll ask her for a funnel." He nodded in Sera's direction, downing his own glass with appreciation of the burn it caused his throat.

With a put upon sigh, the Angel handed his charge the beer and continued to avoid eye contact with the Fallen around him. "You enjoy it more than I."

Akseli gave up with a glare and began drinking from the Angel's glass.

Elisheva gave a nod as she sat there watching Uzza, appreciating the company of one sho could understand the fiery burn when Wrath intercepted Virtue and took hold. Each Sin felt differently when it curled within the heart and soul. No Fallen knew what the other felt outside of their own personal Sin. Just as no Seraphim could understand the light of another's Virtue.

Sera leaned forward on the bar, its old wood creaking slightly at the twist of leathered hips pressed against it in some odd acceptance of Lusts Fallen. A single finger reached over curling along Uzzas jaw line as a sultry expression claimed her features.

"Wrath is all well and good but Lust is true release," she purred.

"Down Sera before I take that whip of your to your back side," Elisheva taunted behind a half hearted chuckle. Sera leaned back and righted her self as her hands went up in the air dramatically.

"Oh please do," she said with a wink. The Lustful one was about to continue when wood splintered. Front door flinging open as the drunk that had been tossed out returned with a large number of friends; tissue stuffed comically up his nose, stained rich with blood. The group carried various make shift weapons; baseball bats, chains, switchblades, etc.

"I think Wrath is going to be more useful right now," Sera said as her hand fell to the whip at her side. Elisheva smirked as she spun around on the bar stool, gripping the worn vinyl in her fingers between her legs.

"Oh battle!" Elisheva exclaimed with all the delight of a child on Christmas morning on seeing what all Santa had left under the tree.

The band that had been warming up paid the entire scene no mind and struck chord, ripping into a grungy cover of Skillets song Monster, setting a harsh tone to the already tense moment.

"Fitting..." Sera hissed as the group broke stance and tore towards the group of Fallen at the bar. More and more pouring into the bar, quickly filling the space with one's Elisheva was drooling to unleash her Wrath on.

*Uzza looks at Sera and chuckles his jawbone being caressed wasn't something he is entirely used to but it doesn't fully affect him. He was about to respond to her when the door flung open*

*Uzza went from sitting casually to standing with a wicked look on his face his eyes back to the cool steel grey. Seeming from no where knives seemed to shoot out from him and end up wedged into five of the guys. Then with an expert almost elegant flair he whips out his two scythes twirling them before lunging at one of the men and wedges one deep into the man's chest the other slices into a close by man leaving a deep wound. His speed and wrath coming out more then his strength currently as blood spills. Somehow he seems to be avoiding the blood as if getting any on him would offend him*

"Mind if I join?" Akseli asked in the few moments before the fight took hold. He'd already slipped on his brass knuckles and gave a tilt of the head to Elisheva as he addressed her. A strong hand grabbed his bicep and Akseli gave Aharon an irritated glare.

"Akseli now is not the time t-"

"I told you there was no way I wasn't lookin' for a fight tonight. Just unleash man, it's fun!"

Aharon pulled away with a completely affronted look. "I will not! You know that I don-"

"Then gimme this." With that, Akseli pulled the rope from off of the Angel's belt loop, wrapping it around his hand once and leveling it with the height of many of the men's necks. "Hi there." He gave a quick wink to the guy before his brass-knuckled fist met his throat. The rope wrapped around the mans wrist and Akseli pulled with enough force to send him to the floor. Blood spurt from the stranger's nose and mouth and he didn't get back up.

With a grin, he leaped towards his next victi- er...opponent.

"Akse-!" Aharon sighed and grabbed the first aid kit he keeps latched onto his belt. He looked at Sera and the other two Fallen and then back to his kit. "This will not be nearly enough..."