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@shylarah"Uh, yeah. You, dummy." He said playfully, not breaking concentration from his game. As an angel, he figured he might be blinding to a perception based chakra user, but Lord Tsitua had insisted. He looked at the young girl with shimmering, golden, cat-slit eyes, but only briefly, as the ogres in his game were attacking his character. He furiously tapped at the buttons. "No! Come on!" He stood up, still on the mailbox, holding the handheld game up like Simba as he fended off the forces of virtual evil. A moment later a victorious melody chimed as he passed to level sixty-five. "YES!" He exclaimed, backglipping off of his perch and onto the side walk. People were staring now.
He tossed he gameboy behind him, but it never hit the ground. It was just gone. He held out a hand to shake, "My name is Zariel, Angel of Passage, but you can call me mouse." He flashed a big smile showing off his three sets of fangs.
To the boy, he was just a guy with fangs and weird eyes. Amune's perceptive chakras, on the other hand, would let her see the ethereal wings at his back and horns hovering over his forehead, both made of heavenly light. She would be able to see the purity of him as an angel. He figured Tsitua was counting on this.
****
He was.
Tsitua was perched about half a mile away on a very tall building. The monocular scope he held on his palm brought to his eye the angel and the seer's interactions. Through meeting her, he had made a dossier profile on his neural hard drive. Above all things, Amuné trusted her visions, despite the fact that they had a tendency to be vague. He had deduced this by her mannerisms and behavior throughout his encounter with her. She was reserved, yet willing to explore. Some part of her recognized him, yet she was wary. He needed to find a way to show her what side they were on that she would believe with little question. He believed that inviting her to meet the legendary Angel of Passage would do this. Clearly she would know nothing of his legend, but that didn't matter. It was his nature, not his story that would turn the tides of her trust.
He looked to his right just as Lya landed. Lya, his third-in-command, was a gorgeous woman. She stood around five feet, six inches tall with just the right amount of curves. She was the same rank as Orion, despite her positional authority, so the left side of her head was shaved. The rest of her hair was waist-length, sky blue waves. Blue was her natural hair color, du to the fact that she was from He'Lé-Änn.
She shifted her weight to one hip as she looked toward the seer, "You really think she's the one Nunque has been rambling about?" She asked, unsure of his deduction.
"Trust me," he answered, returning to his surveillance, "I speak Hellish a lot better than you. This is the girl."
He tossed he gameboy behind him, but it never hit the ground. It was just gone. He held out a hand to shake, "My name is Zariel, Angel of Passage, but you can call me mouse." He flashed a big smile showing off his three sets of fangs.
To the boy, he was just a guy with fangs and weird eyes. Amune's perceptive chakras, on the other hand, would let her see the ethereal wings at his back and horns hovering over his forehead, both made of heavenly light. She would be able to see the purity of him as an angel. He figured Tsitua was counting on this.
****
He was.
Tsitua was perched about half a mile away on a very tall building. The monocular scope he held on his palm brought to his eye the angel and the seer's interactions. Through meeting her, he had made a dossier profile on his neural hard drive. Above all things, Amuné trusted her visions, despite the fact that they had a tendency to be vague. He had deduced this by her mannerisms and behavior throughout his encounter with her. She was reserved, yet willing to explore. Some part of her recognized him, yet she was wary. He needed to find a way to show her what side they were on that she would believe with little question. He believed that inviting her to meet the legendary Angel of Passage would do this. Clearly she would know nothing of his legend, but that didn't matter. It was his nature, not his story that would turn the tides of her trust.
He looked to his right just as Lya landed. Lya, his third-in-command, was a gorgeous woman. She stood around five feet, six inches tall with just the right amount of curves. She was the same rank as Orion, despite her positional authority, so the left side of her head was shaved. The rest of her hair was waist-length, sky blue waves. Blue was her natural hair color, du to the fact that she was from He'Lé-Änn.
She shifted her weight to one hip as she looked toward the seer, "You really think she's the one Nunque has been rambling about?" She asked, unsure of his deduction.
"Trust me," he answered, returning to his surveillance, "I speak Hellish a lot better than you. This is the girl."