Azurael had decided if she was not to serve the princess, then her services might be useful elsewhere. After all her guard duty was her last chance at anything. She could think of only one other Angel who on a slim possibility would make use of her. "Grim" she whispered to herself. She had heard Grim had an uncanny sense of showing up whenever his name was mentioned, or when he deemed it most irritating.

Sasha turned briefly into a lioness and snarled after Sephiroth. She turned bacl into her Angelic form and stalked pff to her quarters. She would have to find someone to do Azurael's work.

"Goodness gracious me, my work simply is never done. Who invokes my presence this time?" A man's voice spoke from somwhere behind Azurael. A figure formed out of the shadows of the nearby corner, an Angel, robed in black and hooded to hide his face. In his hand he held a bloodstained scythe.

"Oh, well, if it isn't the Royal Guard. Or, well, former Royal Guard, as it appears to be. What can I do you for you, child?" The reaper called 'Grim' inquired. Behind his mask of shadows was a humorous grin implied.

Azurael let out a small hiss of suprise. While she expected his arrival, the manner of his arrival surprised and unsettled her. "I have invoked your prescence." The 'former royal guard' part irked her but she knew Grim was ancient and was simply calling things as he saw them. "With the loss of my former employment I was hoping my services may be of use to you. After all given my record it was inevitable that I would hasten to your realm before I was willing. Believe it or not, I would rather a few more years alive at least."

As an after thought she followed up wi th a quick bow and a rather sarcastic "Your Deathliness."

She straightened up an looked at where she approximated his eyes ought to be.

Grim seemed to ignore her sarcasm. "I see." He replied. "Unfortunately, I have no use for mortal servants. Whatever they can accomplish, I can accomplish much more easily than they can. But before you start going to drastic measures, if your people want nothing to do with you, than perhaps the Demons can find a place for you among them. You have an alliance, no? So then nothing should stop you from seeking their help."

"If ever you need me, the offer still stands. Even just for a conversation. I doubt the dead have much to say."

"I thank you wholeheartedly for your advice and wish you a good day." With that said, Azurael took her leave and went to find Sephiroth, perhaps he might have a place for her. After that she aimed to have a nap.

"You would be surprised the stories that the dead can tell you. They can be quite entertaining. However, I will keep your offer in mind. Good luck, miss Winchester. Hehe." Grim replied to her as she was leaving. As he had come, so likewise did he disappear the same way.

Sephiroth was currently in his quarters. He had been struggling for some time to alleviate the strain on his shoulder enough to where it wouldn't hurt him to move his wing. Fortunately, he'd been able to do that, and then had sheathed the blasted thing so he could sleep, which was what he was currently doing.

Azurael, after some (helpful and some not so helpful) directions from Demons soon found herself outside Sephiroth's room. She almost debated her decision but decided to go ahead with Grim's advice, after all she had nothing to lose and everything to gain. She knocked on the door and politely waited. She was a bundle of nerves and this was clearly written on her normally placid face.

It took a minute for Sephiroth to fully realize that the noise that had woken him up was a knock at his door, which was not something he expected to hear, so it came as a surprise to him. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at the door. He wondered who on Terra would want his attention just now.
"It's unlocked. Come in."

Azurael walked in and saw Sephiroth lying on his bed propped up by his elbows. "Your Highness, as I am sure you are aware I am no longer in service to the Archangel princess. I was hoping you might employ me."

He looked thoughtful. "Fortune, it seems, looks on you kindly. As it happens, I had wondered whether or not I ought to intervene on your behalf." He admitted, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

"I don't have any issues giving you work, miss Royal Guard, but I should warn you that you will have to suffer the disdain of those Demons who do not think kindly of your people. If that is something you can deal with, then I shall be happy to have your citizenship. It may yet serve to strengthen our relations."

He stroked his chin, thinking for a moment.

"I am not aware of your past, and nor do I wish to be apprised of it. If you are determined, then you will start with a clean slate. If you do well enough for yourself, then you will have earned whatever gains you make in our society. If not, then we will deal with you as we would with any other ne'er-do-well. You will not be treated any different than one of our own."

He waved his hand aside. "That having been said, I know what Angels do with citizens that have been stripped of their status, and I have a feeling that is why you came to me. To avoid that. So then all that you need to worry about is finding yourself a job, yes? If you wish to work, go and talk to my general. If you are as good as your former position suggests, then he will find a good place for you. You can find him in the control room--he's acting as co-pilot in my place while I sleep. Questions?"

"Thank you Your Highness, you are a lifesaver. I can deal with disdain well enough, try being a thief in the Angelic kingdom."

" I have but one question. Will I be required to change uniform? Ido not mind doing so". Azurael accompanied the statement with a gesture at the silvery blue armour she was currently wearing.

"Also, what is your Generals name? I can't just call him 'hey you'".

Sephiroth shook his head once. "We are not quite so orderly as your people are, and do not frequently make use of uniforms. Our society is such that we simply make use with what we own. You may address the man as General Highwind, unless he gives you leave to do otherwise. You can't miss him; he looks like a walking dragon statue with a personality to match." He replied. "But before you go, since we are on the subject, what is your name?"

"I can get rid of the cumbersome armour then. I hate it." Azurael said vehemently.

"I am Azurael Winchester. I know your name."

Azurael politely dismissed herself and went to the control room. She immediately saw the General Highwind Sephiroth was referring to and found herself agreeing with Sephiroth's description. She walked up to the General. "General?"

General Highwind was a tall man, but not much else could be determined about his features due to the plate armor he wore. He didn't seem to notice Azurael at first. That, or, he was ignoring her. He gestured at one soldier. "You. Come and take my place." He ordered. He stood from his seat as the man he'd spoken to quickly obeyed.

The General then turned to cast his gaze at Azurael. His expression was hidden.

"What do you want, white-wing?"

"A job, I was sent here by Sephiroth. I am no longer welcome amongst the Angels." Azurael said. She was somewhat intimidated by the General. She decided to add "Sir" just in case.

"That's Lord Sephiroth to you, white-wing." Under the shadow of the demon's helm, his lips were morphed into a frown.
"But I have not known his Majesty to be a poor judge of character, so I'll ignore your slip, this time."

He turned and made his way to another station in the room, observing the monitor that was there.
"Bloody--! Who the blazes rigged this!?" He suddenly snapped, casting his gaze about the room.
One of the men jumped and quickly came to see what it was that the general had been looking at.

"If you can't bloody keep track of your duties, I'll bloody send you out the flaming airlock! Do you want this flaming ship to bloody explode?" He sighed, then returned to where he had left Azurael standing.

"Demons have no use for white-wings or their magic. If you want work, you need to prove to me that your wings are as black as the oil that our machines run on. Time to get your flaming white feathers dirty, woman!" He told her, gesturing to the control room they were in. "Let's see how you fare with black-wing magic. This flaming ship has a personality of her own, white-wing! You need to feel the rumble of her insatiable stomach, and feed her till she purrs. When she whines, give her attention. She's a sensitive lass, white-wing, and demands a lot of care."

He leaned against the wall and folded his arms. Clearly, he was tossing Azurael to the ocean to see if she could learn to swim.

"I have served as nothing more than a Royal Guard and as security aboard this confounded ship. Some-one will need to teach me how to do whatever it is you want me to do. I'm a weather witch not a mind reader." Azurael stated. "Other than that, I am more than happy to get my 'feathers dirty'".

To herself she thought "Draconian demon."

"Is that so? Well then, I guess you'll have to get friendly with your new co-workers, won't you? Go on, Stormy, there's no bloody time to be shy! The Exodus doesn't like to be kept waiting!"

Clearly, he was not going to lift a finger for her. Sephiroth had apparently meant it when he had warned her about having to work hard to earn any respect. It had once been said that Angels were quick to forget, but never forgave, and Demons were quick to forgive, but never forgot.

Stories claimed that, in the many battles between Angellic magic and Demonic ingenuity, the Demons were often pushed back and ended up with no other choice than to accept a ceasefire. Then they would start up again in a few centuries when they had made some attempts at rebuilding. They say that they had to rebuild so much, so often, that they began to forget how to wield magic, and that was how they came to posess such great technology, because they became great thinkers and builders, rather than students of magic, as the Angels had become.
Some claim that the Demons resent the Angels and blame them for their loss of magical ability, but Demons had started just as many wars as the Angels had.

The general mused on these thoughts as he watched his men work. The two races were polar opposites. That's all there was to it.
Still though, they also say that opposites attract. Perhaps the fighting would stop. Someday.

A demon beckoned Azurael over and sat her down on a chair beside him. "I'll teach you but learn quick, or Dragon-breath over there might do to you what he threatened to the idiot before."

Azurael listened and watched on diligently the Demon tutored her, gradually taking over more of the duties at that particular console until the demon just left her by herself and was monitoring his own array of consoles. Azurael absorbed herself in her work and before she knew it she was being prodded on the shoulder for some-one to take over for thier shift.

The demon who had taught her walked up to her as he was relieved "You done well for a White wing."

Azurael retorted "You taught well for a tar-feather." She thought it was a mighty fine insult.

A slight smirk pulled at the edges of the Demon's mouth. "Well, I'm Damien Abraxon, snow-brain."

Azurael responded "Well, I'm Azurael Winchester, your lady-ship." She had evidently noticed the slight purplish tinge to his hair and wings.

Despite the fact that both of them happened to be adults, this insult battle continued well past them walking out of the control room and only stopped once they separated to go to thier separate quarters.

Azurael was well relieved that she didn't share the same quarters with the princess.

As the two of them were relieved of rheir shifts, the General hid an amused smile. That 'Azurael' would have no problems here, it seemed. She worked hard, and apparently, she could banter as well as any of his men. No, she'd have no problems here. But it would be a waste of talent to just keep her at doing gruntwork. He would have to find other work that befitted her skills.
"Get back to your flaming post!" He snapped at someone who was standing idle.
He chuckled quietly to himself.

Sephiroth had slept for only a few hours, but he wasn't tired when he woke once more. Again, he attempted to move his wing. The stiffness was gone, finally, so he re-sheathed it. He stood and stretched, then left his quarters to find his good friend. He found the General where he'd left him. In the control room. The men that worked under the man hardly even glanced up at him as they moved about, tending to their duties. Sephiroth had made it quite well known that he desired no special treatment when he was down here with them.

The General looked up, however. "Ah, Seph. Back so soon?"

The young Lord shrugged. "It was enough. So, did Azurael prove useful?"

"Ai, she may as well have been one of the men, the way she handled herself. She did more than well enough." He replied. "I've not seen anyone that put so much into their work, I think she may have even enjoyed it!"

"Good. So she managed not to get offended by your reputed mannerisms, did she?" The prince looked amused.

"Oh, you know. I have to keep them all their toes." The General replied, clearly amused as well.

"Aye, and a good job of it, too. Well then? Put me to work." The prince said, pushing up his sleeves. "That's an order."