[IC] The City Of The Fallen §eraphim

[Lady Absinthia]

Battle ensued and there was no stopping it as the average patron tried to flee through the back door of the bar to escape the madness that had quickly consumed The Inferno. Blood splattered and bodies fell. Souls were ripped from forms as last breaths were drawn. Music blurring the sounds of screams and grunts as the heart of Elisheva began to pound in her chest; fueling in the Wrath beneath her breast with each breath she drew.

Pupils dialated with a sick desire as she slid off the rickety barstool and balled her fists up. While some opted to drop foes quickly she decided she was going to enjoy this. The first soul claimed after the Fall was to be enjoyed and set a clear presidence of what was to come.

Driven to the beat of drums and pounding of heart ringing in her ears boot connected with gut as hands curled along the back of a skull; powering the decent of bone to black jeaned knee and teeth. Ripping to one side the neck twisted like a possessed Barbie doll about to spit pea soup until the snap rung out; body tumbling to the ground in a demented spin as she hurled it to the floor.

Sera opted to take the high ground and leapt up to the top of the bar; the long braided whip uncurling at her side before she snapped it forward and it laced like a sickening lovers embrace around the neck of one. With a single pull back the body came crashing against the wood platform she stood on; almost kneeling at her feet as if to say "Please Mistress, may I have some more?".

A click of heel and blade released, driving straight into the jugular of her subservient. Kneeling down she unravelled the whip from his neck and gave him a sweet farewell kiss to his temple before body slid lifeless to the floor below.

[Sophrus]

Mercator stands and leaves his office, he opens his wallet and makes sure there is a couple hundred dollars inside, as per usual. satisfied he decides a pleasant drink at the Inferno would cheer him up, Mr. Smith's plight had brought him down. Even though he was fallen he was not without empathy, but he knew his pace. a business man, cant be treating anyone differently. he steps out into the cool evening and lights a cigarette and looks at the blood moon.

"my my, a new Fallen." says mercator to nobody in particular then he casually takes off down the block teleporting a couple blocks at a time between steps, making the trip to the inferno only take a couple minutes as opposed to the half hour it should have taken.

when he neared the inferno and was just across the street he noticed that people where running and screaming from the building. he watched for a few moments waiting for the stragglers to get out of the building. he took another drag from the cigarette and drops the butt to the ground. he withdraws another smoke from his suit jacket and lights it, once smoldering he teleports across the street and pushes open the door. the sound of combat washes over him, he takes a look around and finds a quiet corner away from the fighting and with a good view, he sits down and enjoys the show, casually chain smoking.

[BlackPanther]

*Uzza seems to have gotten his knives back but is still using his scythes. With another elegant twirl of the blades he smiles and does a unique move where he points the blades forward and while glimpsing around the victim he teleports a large wound now in the man who just a second ago was standing there aiming a punch at him. This move is dangerous as if he doesn't look around the victim correctly he could end up in the wrong location leaving him wide open for an attack. Thankfully he has practiced this move enough to get it right about 75% of the time even if he only uses it every once in awhile. With a smirk he lodges a scythe into another man's throat. While he is focused on one guy another guy manages to land a blow to Uzza's face causing for the fallen angel to spin facing the guy his eyes now a dark stormy grey color he grabs the guy and throws him he then speeds to where the guy was being thrown to and swings his scythes in opposite directions leading to the guys head landing in one spot while the body hits the wall. Uzza prepares for his next attack*

[Aces Away]

Akseli has taken down four other men by the time he's blindsided by two of the largest. They separate him from the bulk of the group and toss him onto a table off to the side. He winces and looks up from his position sprawled across the table to see a man smoking casually in the seat. He raises an eyebrow at the man.

"'Sup?" Was all he got out before his collar was grabbed and he was yanked right into the awaiting fist of the second man. Without even thinking, he throws a punch full force the the first guy's face and wraps the rope around the throat of the other man, puhing him face down onto the table Akseli previously occupied and tightening the rope like a noose, enjoying the swelling red that blooms in the mans face as he desperately wonts for air he'll never again reciev-

"AKSELI GRAYSON AERSTEIN." The booming voice carried over any sound of fighting that may have attempted to block it out, and Akseli dropped the rope in shock, eyes wide as the man before him took a gasping breath before passing out. The only thing he saw upon turning his head in the direction of the bar was Aharon's horrifie- no, terrified- face.

"Ahem." He coughed, putting his hands behind his back like an embarrassed child. "Yes, Aharon?"

[Lady Absinthia]

The beat of the music fueled the Wrath that was spreading like a plague through the establishment. The sound of wood splintering as tables flew and were crashed against and bottles breaking; Sera and Elisheva working in tandem to bring down assailant after assailant.

The crack of whip breaking through between the pummeling of fist against flesh. The women had opted to make each kill as personal and up close as they could be.

There was nothing to burn out the Wrath which consumed Elisheva save to let her get it all out. Sera on the other hand felt no release with each body that dropped at her feet; instead Lust building with each one it mounted the desire flickering in her dark pupils.

Either way both women wore sadistic smirks on their lips as they carved a path through the fray from the bar and back. A parting of seas as it were as if the Red Sea had been parted in that very room.

Blood flowed freely, puddling around and sticking to their boots. Elisheva finally made her way to what would be her last triumph for the evening. The man that had started it all. Her fists flew freely and she quickly beat him against the wall. Pummeling him into submission with inhuman speed, her movements blurring like the fluttering of hummingbirds wings.

Stepping back the man slid down the wall barely conscience and begging for mercy but Elisheva was having none of that this evening. Her kindness and compassion were gone and she felt no empathy towards the man. Reaching behind her she pulled her Glock out from its tucked place at her waist and pointed it right at the man's head.

"Please, for the love of God, please don't! I'm sorry! Have mercy!" he screamed pathetically.

"I'll pray for you," Elisheva said in a cold voice as she squeezed the trigger, the bullet cutting through the air and shattering through his skull right between his eyes; effectively blowing his brains out the back of his head and splattering them against the wall.

"Amen," Sera chuckled as she stood next to Elisheva and the band's song drew to a close. Turning, both women looked at the source of the booming voice as a few stragglers tried to escape.

"Full name? Oooo, someone's in trouble," Sera snarked and Elisheva busted out laughing as she tucked her glock back into its home at the arch of her back.

[Sophrus]

Mercator sitting on the table with his feet not quite reaching the floor, grinds another cigarette into the wood of the table and immediately lights another smirking and quietly chuckling at the bloody battle before him. he watches an apparent young man do a very interesting teleport slash, 'too much flourish, those scythes make it too complicated, very impressive though.' Mercator thinks to himself as the young man promptly cleave a man in half, Mercator laughs a healthy belly laugh as the body parts bounce off the floor and wall.

he shifts his focus to another who seemed to simply be brawling with brass knuckles and a length of rope, as Mercator assesses him all he could think of was 'Vanilla mortal' right up until a Saphirim shouts his name to get his attention.
"AKSELI GRAYSON AERSTEIN"
'Akseli, ill have to keep that in mind. someone socializing with an angel could be trouble...' but then the two women draw his eye, slaughtering their way through a crowd of mortals, the pair killing with brutality yet efficiency. right up until one of the women simply uses her fists to pound a man into submission and executing him to the muttering of "Amen". after this gun shot, the sounds of battle seem to quiet down and the final mortal survivors retreat from the bar.

Mercator jumps up on top of the table and claps his hands loudly but slowly. after the third clap he holds his hands together. "well done! Bravo!" Mercator glances over to the bar and teleports behind the counter. "Let me buy you all a round. you must be thirsty" he says as he reaches for the most expensive bottle of scotch in the place. Mercator also sets out an appropriate number of glasses, minus one for the Angel.

[BlackPanther]

*Uzza blinks the shout seeming to have snapped him out of it a bit. However with this distraction he seems to forget about the headless body somewhat stuck to the wall until it lands next to him with a thud causing him to flinch somewhat then he starts laughing a loud resounding laugh that gives a peek into the angel he used to be. With a grin he starts looting the bodies of those he killed no longer feeling anything wrong about doing so. Once done he stands and walks over to the bar next to the guy who basically made it apparent that he is an angel and starts counting the cash from the bodies his eyes once more a blue grey coloration. Not attacking just standing there he was curious as to what would happen between the angel and his charge.*

[Lady Absinthia]

The smoke that had been hanging heavy against the ceiling had dissipated somewhat during the volatile massacre that was now complete. The room seemed somber in spite of the jovial expressions playing on the Fallens features and cheers from yet another new comer into this little slice of a forgotten realm known as The Inferno.

Even with the seeming sobriety of the situation Elishevas spirits were high, releasing that much pain and sorrow in a single exchange was freeing in a way she had never known. Centuries of angst and buried feelings had finally been emancipated. Blood bath or night of passion, it did not matter what form it came in. The burden lifted made her feel light as air and fresh as newly fallen snow.

Stepping over the bodies that lay strone out on the bar floor. Each one beaten to nothingness, each step taken causing a sticky pull of boots as blood cooled and coagulated. Sounds of the band playing a dirge softly strummed softly to the patrons ears, the members of The Taint grinning as they played.

The only remorse coming from either woman as they moved back to the bar was from Sera and that was only because of the clean up factor. She figured it could wait as she slid behind the bar and Elisheva took a seat; the Fallen of Wrath eying the human who looked like a scolded child after being yelled at. She tilted her head to the side slightly and gave him an approving smile.

Seras eyes flashed grey as she Auraed the one untainted Seraphim in the room and perked a brow. Leaning against the back of the bar as her arms crossed over her chest and assessed the situation at hand. A Seraphim and a human being bellowed at. It didn't take a scholar to figure out scenario.

"Well well, what do we have here? A Seraphim and his charge? I don't know whether to laugh, try to make you fall or try to bring your charge under one of our wings," Sera quipped with a smirk playing on her crimson lips.

Elisheva perked a brow in interest as she looked between the two. Oh how poetic, she thought to herself. This was some sort of cruel irony in retrospect but she brushed the thought away as she shuffled her leather coat off and rested it gently on her lap.

"So, what brings you two here this evening? Come to congratulate me on the Fall?" Elishevas voice was oddly joyous in her words and she had a glow about her; one women wore when they were truly satisfied in the most primal of ways.

[BlackPanther]

*Uzza tears his glance away from the scene unfolding to the newcomer offering drinks with a small chuckle and shake of his head he shrugs* "Ill take you up on that brother" *When in a good mood he refers to the males of his kind as brothers. Which is rare. This good mood will probably only last today tomorrow most likely he will be quiet once more like the eye of a storm. For now his hood remains down his scythes back at his hips his throwing knives hidden and a gleam of excitement and an odd sense of pleasure in his eyes*

[Sophrus]

Mercator, glances as the exchange between the fallen and Angel somewhat disappointed that his presence was ignored and almost insulted by his drink offer being ignored.

Then, the hooded fighter turns seemingly amused by the evenings antics acknowledges Mercator and accepts the drink. "Good choice my friend, finest scotch in the house, on me."

He pours a pair of glasses and holds up the his own as a toast. "Cheers" says Mercator, then taking the scotch in one pull. Tasting the richness of the whiskey and drinking the smooth liquids fire. "Ahh, and well done my friend. Excellent technique with those weapons by the way, and I'm ashamed to admit I may not have been able to pull off that teleport slash myself."

He studies the hooded man as he takes his own drink, certainly a fallen, and deadly to boot, he could prove very.... Profitable.

"The name is Mercator, I specialize in acquisitions. If there is anything you need, legal or otherwise" he says as he produces a business card for the Shadow Bazaar. "You know where to find me"

[BlackPanther]

*Uzza tilts his head and takes the card knocking back his own drink removing his hood again.. he recognized that look this was definitely an angel of greed which could prove interesting in the long run for him. A way to get out any wrath that may pop up and to do it in a way that would;t require a favor owed.* "Thank you... and I will be finding you later on.. My name is Uzza" *Uzza usually isn't recognized since the humans had called him that nickname and he didn't spread his chosen name around. Leaving him practically unknown, the way he preferred it. a look crosses through his eyes* "I do believe this is the start of a wonderful friendship" *his voice is quiet once more if anything he is both brains and brawn allowing for him to be a good ally to any who manage it... which it seems Mercator has managed to do easily*

[Aces Away]

Ahoron ignored the Fallen surrounding him as he stalked over to his charge, pushing him down into a seat and beginning to administer first aid.

"What was that? Have you lost your mind?" Maybe he pressed the cotton ball a little to hard onto the cut on Akseli's head, but cut him some slack. "This is why I don't leave you to go out alone much anymore."

"Dude chill, I got lost in the fight again, I always pull out of it." Akseli pushed the older being away and b-lined for the bar where the others were, ignoring the cooling liquid attempting to glue his shoes to the floor. The two women gained his attention as he grabbed a stool, ignoring Aharon's nervous glare.

"Well well, what do we have here? A Seraphim and his charge? I don't know whether to laugh, try to make you fall or try to bring your charge under one of our wings."

Akseli raised an eyebrow. 'Tempting offer.'

"So, what brings you two here this evening? Come to congratulate me on the Fall?"

Akseli grabbed one of the empty glasses Mercator had put out and raised it to the red head. "Hey, if you're happy with it, then here here!" He grinned, oddly at ease around the group. "I was trying to drag him out of his pity party, but dude's got his feathers so far up his ass he wouldn't even have a drink."

"Feathers up my-? Akseli this is ridiculous, we should leave. Now." Aharon made his way over to his charge, stopping before the pool of blood and shifting his feet, contemplating teleporting passed it.

"But I haven't even gotten a post-fight drink!" He pouted, a sarcastic tilt of his head showing how much he cared for his guardian's suggestion.

[Lady Absinthia]

Elisheva cocked a brow as she looked over towards the Seraphim and sighed slightly. She knew his frustration all too well, charges were not easy to deal with no matter the Sin and Wrath Sins were particularly trying. She had had a few in her days. Shaking her head slightly she ran her finger along the edge of her shot glass, a soft whine emanating from it as she did.

"The harder you try to hold a charge the faster they will slip through your fingers like grains of sand," the Wrathful one muttered before downing the liquid from its vessel and motioning for a refill from Sera. Running her tongue along her lips she flippantly pointed towards Sera and smirked.

"Now this one here doesn't have one damned idea what it is like to deal with a charge. She was born Fallen. She's never had to sit there as she watched a charge descend into their Sin and you fought with all of Heavens light to protect them and bring them salvation," she commented slightly irked at the thought.

Sera just refilled the drink and let Elisheva vent, it made no mind to her. She had dealt with Wraths before. It would pass soon enough. Elisheva quickly downed another and another, each one burning less and less as it traveled down her throat.

"All she does is enjoy the Lust. She's never had Wrath twist a soul, Pride darken one, or Envy be driven to madness. This bitch has never even tasted Love much less had it ripped from her hands and tossed into the void." So much for Sera not caring as Wrath laced with Lust for a moment and her fingers gripped Elisheva by the shoulders from the other side of the bar, lifting her out of her seat. Elisheva just laughing in the woman's face.

"Listen here you pompous bitch. Don't talk to me about Love. I know Love, greater than any of you Seraphim or Fallen here. I birthed a Seraphim! And heavens light ripped her from me. So she could be like the rest of Heavens lemmings. So don't talk to me about not knowing. I know. I was punished because of who my father is, not because I Fell. So take your judgements and shove it. I've already been judged!"

Seras voice was full of pain and sorrow as she dropped Elisheva back into her seat and leaned back. Elisheva stared at her shocked by the revelation. A Fallen birthing a Seraphim? It was unheard of, why hadn't Michael or Gabriel let the Seraphim know this?

[Sophrus]

Mercator smiles at his new friend, allies are all too welcome in this day and age. he pours himself another drink and holds the bottle up to offer Uzza another drink. he gets distracted by the exchange between the Wrathful Fallen and the human/angel pair. the human says something about his post fight drink, Mercator turns stepping around Sera who was with him behind the counter, "pardon me love" he says as though he belonged. he then pours the human a glass of the fine Scotch, "enjoy my friend" he says as he withdraws another business card. "if you need anything give me a call, that goes for you too Mr. goodie two shoes" turning towards the angel.

Wrath begins her tirade about love and loss, which was a sad tale to be sure, but frequent and boring among the fallen. until Sera started and was talking about how she had given birth to a saphirim as a fallen. 'and the plot thickens' thinks Mercator 'i wonder what that information is worth'

[BlackPanther]

*Uzza watches his new ally and chuckles knowing the angel most likely will look offended and give some speech. A painful memory came back and he pulls up his hood closing his eyes as he tries to forget. He knows he isn't the only one dealing with pain, but the wound for him always seem to be fresh. He can hear the two women talking about their own pain, but dealing with his own he can't focus on it. He is slowly pulling through the memory with a slightly pained expression one full of regret.*

[Aces Away]

"Hm. Thanks man." Akseli replied to the Fallen on the other side of the bar, accepting the card and downing the drink. The card was taken out of his hand and he turned to his Angel with a glare before he hears the two women's conversations.

"If I let Akseli do everything he sets his mind to, he'd have been lost long ago." Aharon adds in direction to Elisheva. "Patience is extremely important with this one, but sometimes even I must step in."

"Wait, they took your kid from you? What bullshit is that?" He asked, anger lacing his tone as he thought of the times he and his mom had to run because child services were trying to take him away. "You don't fucking take someone's kid, Aharon, what the hell?"

"I knew nothing of this developement. No announcement was let out and no other Seraphim I am in contact with knew of this. If this is what has happened, then Michael or Gabriel kept it from us." He didn't let it show just how much that bothered him, keeping his face blank as a fresh canvas.

He still kept his distance. But having moved in front of Akseli when be took the card, it was quite difficult. He looked Sera in the eye. "Seperation of one's family is something I wish on no one, and I'm sorry I can do nothing to remedy this."

"'Bout as sorry as taking the card." Akseli mumbled, ignoring the glare shot in his direction. He motioned to Mercator to subtly hand him another card, smirk back in place.

[Lady Absinthia]

"Yeah, well that is the treatment you get when your father was the first to Fall," Sera snapped angrily. Rubbing her face slightly before her hands pushed back her long raven locks. Elisheva gulped slightly at the admittance. There had been rumors amongst the Seraphim that Lucifer had a child but all had figured it was a son. Never had she imagined that the Fallen before her was his daughter.

Elisheva had known Sera for sometime, having had to pull one of her charges from the woman's lustful embrace at the Tower of Babel. She knew she was born a Fallen but that was, while rare, not completely uncommon nor unheard of.

The room seemed tense, expectantly so, and even with the wrath that was coursing through Elishevas veins she felt pity for the woman before her. She had only lost her love, Sera had lost a child.

"Have you seen your child since they were taken?" Elisheva asked quietly. Sera glanced over at the Fallen behind the bar and let it slide right then before looking back towards Elisheva.

"Yes, many times, though they don't know it. I keep an eye out for my child, have for thousands of years," Sera admitted as she poured herself a much needed drink.

[Lady Absinthia]

Earlier That Evening

A deafening silence fell over the narrow hallway of the worn down apartment building after the sound of a single door closing roughly against its frame cut through the night. Vision took in the micro fractures in the varnish and she could see her strained expression in the brass numbers and letters screwed into the barriers face.

A grim frown pulled at the corners of her quivering lips and her lids drooped sadly over her unbelieving eyes. She felt sick to her stomach and her hand rested over her mid-section trying to hold back the retching of emotions that threated at the back of her throat; choking back down the bubble of acid that had worked its way up.

Her other hand came up and rested against the rough finish of the wood as her head lowered; crimson locks hiding her features as her nails dug into the surface and scratched lines through it, curling trails of the finish floating like feathers to the tiled floor which she stood upon.

A small breeze cut through the broken window at the end of the hallway, blowing a discarded ratty piece of newspaper against her leg; bending along the womans calf before it settled over the tip of her boots. Slow splatters began to form on the paper as tears broke from their cling along the line of her jaw; the ink of the periodical running with each damp droplet.

“Please… don’t do this…”

The whisper cracked with raw emotion as it came from her parted lips but no one heard them. She had kept her composure within the confines of the apartment when confronted with his message, too in shock over the situation to even be able to muster anything but complete neutrality. Trying to pass it off as if everything was okay with her but that was far from the truth.

She turned to logic and reason, trying to convince him that it could work; that she was willing to try and fail but that it was folly for them to just walk away and act like there had never been anything between them. There had been and it had been something so warm and welcoming that the suns crest over the horizon seemed like a barren wasteland of nothingness in the depths of winters icy chill.

Truth had been told and now her mind regretted letting that part of her be known in some way. She never imagined that he would take it like he did. Confusion was understandable and they had seemed to work past that; then this evening she was blindsided and felt as if she had been sucker punched in the gut by Michaels very fist, knocking the wind out of her and nearly sending her to her knees when he spoke.

“I’m breaking this off.” His voice had been so emotionless when he spoke; she had heard more guilt laced into his tone when he knocked over a drink than when he ended things. Everything seemed to go dark and there was a burning beneath her chest; a bullet of separation ripping through her.

Moments blurred and the room spun as he gave her half explanations. Questions, so many questions were forming in her minds eye but her lips could not form them. Slowly she backed out of the apartment and the door closed before her.

Current Time

The quick flash of memory had drowned out anything going on around her and even Seras words were forgotten right then. Downing one last shot she tossed a wad of bills on the bartop and stood up as she slid her leather coat back on. The rickety barstool tipping over from the sudden movement of being shoved back by her rear as she stood and it crashing against one of the bodies that now lay strone on the floor.

“I’m out.” A halfhearted mutter laced with pain as she turned her back and strolled over the remains of the massacre. The door slamming shut as she walked out into the night. Sera shook her head slightly watching the Wrathful one turn and leave but she said nothing and tried to focus on the mess within her bar.

“Right…. So, who’s on clean up?” she asked as she eyed the remaining Fallen, the Seraphim, and his charge.

[BlackPanther]

*Uzza pulls down the hood now that his memory has passed and looks at the angel, his charge , and the other fallen then back at Sera. He gives a small sigh and stands he picks up a couple of bodies looks outside teleports outside the door and unfurls his large wings before shooting up... apparently he is going to help clean up. He flies a bit of distance to an empty lot and starts digging a hole with a shovel he finds his strength coming in handy to make this job go faster. He dumps those bodies into the hole and covers it before digging another for the next few bodies*

*Barachiel finds himself walking outside. The cooler night air feeling nice again him. His blaring white outfit of t shirt jeans and combat boots making him stand out in the night along with a bright white rose tucked into the chest pocket on his shirt. He stands out so badly. What makes him stand out more is the arm bracers and the belt with the coiled whip and the dagger. He stops looking up at the blood moon with a hint of sorrow on his face. he wished that more could cling to the light instead of letting go and being enveloped by the darkness. It seemed like the easy way out to him. He sighs still looking at the moon, with no charge currently he is simply wandering.*

[Aces Away]

Akseli looks silently to the floor and then to Aharon. He holds out the money from his last job and tosses it to the Seraphim, who catches it with a look of distaste.

"Wanna go get a squeegee, ol' buddy ol' pal?"

The Angel sighed and looked out the door, teleporting his way out and then down the streets in small jumps.

He returns to the bar a few minutes later with four squeegee blades and a bunch of rags, resting two blades on the bar counter and keeping one, handing the last off to Akseli along with a few rags. Without complaint, the boy gets to his knees and begins mopping up the blood, gathering the excess into a puddle with the squeegee.

Aharon disappears for another minute and returns with two buckets, one empty and one filled with hot water. He gets down onto his own knees and begins cleaning. Akseli gives him a smile.