As the morning sun kissed the dew bespeckled grass in Talos Island, the angel's eyes fluttered open and the warm, uplifting scent of buttered toffee flavored coffee wafted its way to her nose. She smiled and gave a soft sigh of happiness. Life had been quite satisfactory--nothing had occurred that even indicated turmoil in the metaphysical plane. The archangel, though longing for the glory and majesty of her Heavenly home, was quite content with her mortal form upon this earth. For the past four years, she had served as a bastian for those in need; as an entertainer for those needing upliftment; as a friend to the friendless--as the person upon whom many could rely. She smiled at the happy memories of lifetimes past, but none of them compared to the lifetime she currently lived. If only this could last until Kingdom come...

But, as those who are purely mortal know, nothing will last an eternity--not sadness, not happiness--even if the being in question is an angel or a principality. As the dawn of morning broke across the earth, another dawn broke across the principalities and powers under the earth.

"Rijarin..." Demoryel purred to the icey fae standing in a darkened corner of her lair near the Golden Giza.

"Not now..." he murmured. "I have to think..."

The succubus moved from her bed, tail coiling as if stretching itself after a strenuous workout. Her arms snaked around his waist and chest and her lips trailed along his shoulder. "There is not now anything for thinkings," she began. Before she could continue, Rijarin cut her off.

"Yes, there is," he rounded to her, his eyes flashing. "I am here...as is she. There will be penalties to be paid, demoness. Severe penalties..."

Demoryel smiled her smirking, sneering, mocking smile. "What if..." she began, her fingers walking around Rijarin's body, "I were to deliver you something....to appease?"

"Appease me...?"

"Nein," she whispered, then added with a coy smirk, "I am enough for das... Nein, I am to mean appease de vone from beyond..."

"That One...seeks power..."

"Ich kenne..." she grinned. "I know. Think of .... what de vone could not do mit....a Celestial."

Rijarin paused for a moment, pondering. "But, where woul----you don't mean...." his lips began to pull back into a sneering smile as the Mistress Demoryel grinned a wicked grin. "Brilliant..." he breathed, soliciting his own wicked grin, "...you evil, evil woman."

"It is time..." she began. "De souls of de innocents...dey vill be freed vonce more..." She took his hands and encircled her waist with them, then rested her own upon his chest. Through half-closed, seductive eyes, she leaned forward and sealed their plan with a kiss--one that was returned and furthered by her ethereal partner. As they moved back towards the succubus' bed, the fae paused and looked at her intensely.

"You realize...this will start a war."

"You realize," she replied, "that is what I desire...."

"We can't just let this happen, Michael," Gabriel murmured as he leaned back from the viewing pool. "That's our sister."

"Suriel is a big angel, Gabe. She can take care of herself," Michael retorted, hardly looking into the viewing pool. "Besides, this is what she's meant for."

"To be bait to the spiritual warfare mortals cannot see?"

Michael paused and then turned to his brother, "Gabriel, Suriel has lived many lifetimes. Each one has come to its natural end, culminating in just such a battle. Do you recall Angelique Murphries?" Gabriel stared blankly. "Her last incarnation, brother. How did that life end?"

"Her throat was slit..."

"...by?"

"...I get your point." Gabriel sighed and looked back into the pool that seemed almost a split screen. "She's just happy in this life, Michael. She really and truly is. And what of Ian? What will become of him?"

"He will return here. He will be with his true family--and learn--and be sent back to protect her in her next life. That is the way of things. It is how it has always been."

Gabriel twisted his face into a frown. "It may be, but that doesn't mean I have to like it." He leaned forward, gazing into the pool. He watched as Angelica and Ian shared a morning cup of coffee and some sizzling bacon and eggs before starting into their routine of exacting Merciful Justice upon those deserving of it. He watched as Angelica gave Ian a quick kiss before dashing off to the radio station to fill out paperwork and put together playlists. He watched, and as he watched, he saw the the compassion his sister had for all those with whom she came in contact. He saw how they reacted to her--how they loved her. How many of them seemed to want to be a part of her life--how she drew them in and captivated them. "This time needs to be different, Michael," he finally said. "There are too many people she's touched. Too many people who would be lost without her."

"Gabriel...." Michael sighed. But, as he turned his head to face his brother, he saw the intensity with which Gabriel's eyes burned. He saw the lines of care upon his furrowed brow. Michael arose from his chair and walked to the pool, observing as Angelica grinned gleefully and pulled yet another picture from a young listener from an envelope. He watched as her eyes filled with tears as she read the heartbreaking stories of loss from others. Finally, he sighed heavily. "You're right, Gabriel. You are absolutely right. Go. Warn her."

Gabriel, the Messenger, nodded and took to wing. As he descended to the mortal plane, a freezing bolt stopped him, coldly. "What's this?" a voice cooed wickedly. "Big brother is watching again? How voeyeristic of you. What would little sister say if she found out you've been spying, hmm?" The demoness fluttered around the frozen Celestial, taunting him. "Perhapsssss," she whispered hotly in Gabriel's ear, "I should tell her..." Before Gabriel could protest, however, he felt something hard smack against the back left side of his head, sending a searing pain into his temples and eyes. As darkness edged his vision, he swung his eyes to the right, just in time to catch a glimpse of Isabelle Flores--Demoryel's thrall.

"YOU!" he managed to breathe before her hands swung into a flurry, manipulating the gravitational forces around him. His body felt as if it were tearing and compressing all at the same time. Still, he had to fight this demonling. "You will not win, Isabelle."

She let out a screeching laughing. "Isabelle?! You think I am mortal, Celestial? It is you who will be destroyed. I am Jezebeth, and you...will. Be. Mine!" She flew in towards him, lips parting and landing firmly on his. Gabriel held his breath, struggling to break free. He reached for his sword, but there was none to be found. He pushed her away from him, breaking her kiss and glared with a righteous fury. She laughed again.

"Get away from me, foul creature!" he exclaimed.

"What, do you prefer your dates....more masculine?" she let out a cackle whilst she summoned to her hands a stone gargoyle. Gabriel was still stunned from the blow to his head that he could not find the will to move quickly enough. The Gargoyle hit him in the chest, knocking the breath from his body and the wind from his wings. He plummeted to the earth, smacking down right in the midst of Nerva Archipelago. His eyes opened for a moment, then fell shut as everything turned to darkness...

_________________
Love & Celestial Kisses,


DJ Angel, Station Manager
Champions Online: @djangelica | The Secret World: DJAngel
Twitter: @Kryssieness | Facebook: Angelkins | Skype: crymson_fate | YIM: fair_hero | Steam: Angelcakes
The Snowflake Diaries | dA | Ravelry

(( Muahahaha! *rubs hands together* Save Quana, will they? He'll show them! What better way to pay his debt to Demoryel? ))

_________________
Mizythra: What does the queen actually do these days?
Maelthra: Convenes parliment, feeds her corgies... offers to cut up the prime minister's food for him.
Mizythra: ahahahah. Wow.
Maelthra: srsly
Mizythra: What does the king do? Anything?
Maelthra: Is no king
Mizythra: Well, when there is one.
Maelthra: Same thing, but hopefully with less dogs

(( ))

_________________
don't run away... it's only me.

[Team] Lobotomies: Note to self, get scissors.
[Team] Cheeseman: Just don't run with them
[Team] Lobotomies: But that's the best part!
[Team] Cheeseman: But you'll put someone's eye ou- oh I see



@Pretty Hate

Gabriel's eyes--well, his left eye--slowly opened, the dim light of dungeon room encased him like a fog. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come from the parched throat. He turned his head to the left, slowly, then to the right, taking in the full impact of his predicament--then it hit him. All at once like the force of Mac-truck, it him. His body began to shake as the intense pain settled into him--from the tips of his hair to the tips of his toes--everything ached. He closed his left eye and drew in a slow, painful, deep breath. "Holy One, please grant me the strength to endure..." he spoke from his heart. He tried to sit up, but found he was bound to a table; he let out a short, defeated sigh and turned his face toward the ceiling.

A door to his right opened and he heard the shuffle of feet enter. A sharp, stinging backhand made him wince and turn his head to the right. Jezebeth stood, smirking, with a large, hulking man behind her. The man's hand rested upon her shoulder, stroking it lightly, a smirk firmly embedded upon his lips. His deep and resonate voice burbbled from his chest as he spoke his greetings to Gabriel. "Well, well, well. What have we here, my dear Jezebeth? Have you captured yourself...a Celestial?"

"The Mistress will be pleased. It's not just any Celestial...it is her brother," Jezebeth's sneering words came and landed with a dull thud upon Gabriel's ears. He closed his eye, his thoughts a scattered rambling. But his thoughts were stirred by the deep, menacing chuckle.

"Excellent, Jezebeth...excellent indeed," Vorn nearly purred in admiration and leaned in to devour Jezebeth's neck in biting kiss. Jezebeth grinned, her eyes flashing with a fervent lust and she turned to Vorn. Gabriel turned away.

"Aww, what's a-matter? I thought you were a voeyer," Jezebeth cooed. "Or, do you only spy on your sister...?"

"His sister?!" Vorn exasperated. "You are a sick and twisted man if you are spying on your own sister! You're no Celestial..."

Jezebeth snaked her arms around Vorn's hips and leaned around the man to hiss to Gabriel, "Why don't you prove to us your worth?" Gabriel gave a heavy, painful sigh and rested his head against the hard slab of a bed, and said nothing. Surprised, Jezebeth blinked and looked up to Vorn, "Is he giving up? You said he'd be a good toy..."

"No, I said he'd be fun to toy with and use as bait," Vorn grinned, tapping Jezebeth's nose.

Jezebeth glared up at Vorn, "Bait?! For whom?! The Mistress wan---"

Vorn cut her short, weaving his fingers into her hair and pulling her head backwards to look at him directly, "Wants. Angelica. She doesn't want this half-brained pussy of a brother," Vorn jerked his head toward Gabriel. "She wants the real deal."

"So, I've wasted my time?" Jezebeth snapped.

"Not at all," Vorn smiled, drawing her closer. "You see, now is the time we get to play....and then, we'll send word to her that her darling brother has been kidnapped. She'll come, and when she does... we will be waiting." He leaned in and devoured her mouth in a lustful kiss, his other hand roaming over her body. Gabriel, again, closed his eye and looked away. He prayed in his heart that Suriel would not come--that, perhaps, Michael would come in her place--and bring Divinity, his firey sword of slaying. His thoughts were forming cohesion when, once again, he was ripped from them by the biting reality of another backhand across his already bruised cheek.

"Cut him free, Jezebella," Vorn grinned. "It's time to play."

Dutifully, the demon of falsities did as bade and cut free the Celestial. She grinned as she stared at him, slinking in closer to him. Gabriel kept his one eye on Vorn. He was far less concerned about the demoness dancing around him than he was about the man standing a mere twenty feet away. The demoness only had so much power over him--but the man, on the physical plane, had more than Gabriel could match--especially in such a weakened condition. Jezebeth came around to Gabriel's right side and gleefully stared at the swollen eye and cheek. She saw the blood oozing from just above his eyebrow and was close enough to hear his blood pulsing. Slowly, slowly, she leaned in closer. Silently, her tongue uncoiled from her mouth and ever so lightly, touched the flesh of the Celestial. An unsuspected right elbow to her temple knocked her across the room and into a heap on the floor. Gabriel was unrelentlessly upon her in an instant. He had had enough of the demoness and her foul presence. Drawing from her own energy, he pulled it to himself, empowering himself for the battle at hand. She climbed to her feet to face him, but was instantly thrown backwards from a blast of pure, Holy Energy. She regained her feet and planted them firmly, summoning ice to encase the Celestial, "You need to chill out!"

"What is with you and the bad puns?!" Gabriel lamented as he negated her speed, boosting his own. She groaned as she pressed forward in her assault, hitting him with more icy bolts of hatred and loathing. As she approached, Gabriel lifted his arms to deliver a might blow, but before he could, he felt a large hand grip the back of his neck. The icy blast froze him in place. He was trapped.

"Naughty, naughty," Vorn chuckled to Gabriel, "...tell me Jezebella, are your powers so weak against Celestials that you cannot do your job?"

She cracked her neck to the left, "No, Vorn. I am not weak against Celestials--I was the one that knocked him out of the sky, remember? Where the f--"

"Silence!" He bellowed over her. As the echoes of his voice died away, he turned to Gabriel. "You are not the one we want, but you will bring her to us."

"I will nev--"

"That wasn't a request, Celestial," Vorn interrupted. "You will bring her to us." He grinned and then addressed Jezebeth, "Jezebella....do the deed."

She grinned a slowly growing grin, "With pleasure." She stalked slowly around the two men and then behind Gabriel. Grabbing his left wing tightly in her hand, she began to slowly twist and bend until Gabriel cried out in pain and there was a snapping sound, much like a wooden bat makes when connecting with a baseball.

"The other, too," Vorn sneered. Tears flowed from Gabriel's eyes, but this time, he'd be ready. Without thought or concern, he spit in Vorn's face. Vorn closed his eyes a minute and stifled a growl. "No, Jezebella...I take that back. Don't break the other....Hold him." She once again encased Gabriel in ice and watched as Vorn walked around behind him.

Never had Jezebeth recalled seeing that much blood, nor had she ever heard such a glorious sound of screaming. Vorn took the wing and crushed it in his hands, tossing it on the floor in front of Gabriel. As the icy prison melted, Gabriel sunk to his knees, then collapsed on the floor. He remained there, motionless. "Is he dead?" Jezebeth asked curiously.

"No. He's just in shock. No one spits on me and gets away with it--especially not some weak Celestial."

Jezebeth stared at the crumpled figure on the ground for a few moments, the blood pooling around his body. "So...what do we do now?"

Vorn smiled, taking a lock of her hair in his fingers and sniffing it, "Now...we send word to Angelica."

"Like write her a note?"

"No...there are ways....there are so many other ways....." He leaned in and bit at her neck before whispering in her ear. A smile played over her lips and she turned to him, kissing him deeply. "Find her, then return to me and I will reward you."

"...as you wish...."

_________________
Love & Celestial Kisses,


DJ Angel, Station Manager
Champions Online: @djangelica | The Secret World: DJAngel
Twitter: @Kryssieness | Facebook: Angelkins | Skype: crymson_fate | YIM: fair_hero | Steam: Angelcakes
The Snowflake Diaries | dA | Ravelry

(( This is getting better every moment! Can't wait to see what's next ))

_________________
Mizythra: What does the queen actually do these days?
Maelthra: Convenes parliment, feeds her corgies... offers to cut up the prime minister's food for him.
Mizythra: ahahahah. Wow.
Maelthra: srsly
Mizythra: What does the king do? Anything?
Maelthra: Is no king
Mizythra: Well, when there is one.
Maelthra: Same thing, but hopefully with less dogs

Angelica smiled. It was a beautiful day in Paragon City. She sat oustide of Hellfire Tacos, sipping an Americano with one of her DJs, Pretty Hate. The two spoke of the station and new ideas for shows and old ideas for events and new ideas for getting Templar to ask Reiki on a date or even how to get a restraining order on Reiki so she'd stop showing up at the station and chewing on the wires. Bael came out and sat down at the table a little too close to Angel for her own comfort. She smiled and shifted a bit further away. Pretty Hate smirked, but kept silent for a moment, then smacked Bael's arm. "Stop it."

"What?! I didn't do anything!" he whined.

"Leave her alone. She's married."

Bael blinked at Pretty Hate. "So?"

"Okay!" Angelica chuckled nervously as she stood up, "Well! I should--wow, look at the time--" she lifted a watchless arm and declared "--I really should be getting back to the station! There's an event tonight and such and I need a playlist and I should probably find a location and, oh! Yes, I just remembered! I have to floss my toenails and all. Lovely to meet you, Bael. Always a lovely time, Pretty. I'll see you soon, dear!" And with that, Angel took to the sky and flew back to the station.

"What's her deal?" Bael glumly asked Pretty Hate.

"What do you mean? She's an angel, genius!"

"Huh. I thought that was just her gimmick."

"No. She's an Archangel, Bael. You don't mess with them. Besides, she's got two brothers. I've seen her get upset and transform into her Archangel form--it's terrifying. She's huge!"

"Really?" Bael inquired with interest. Pretty Hate shot him a glare of daggers. "Okay, okay. Just watch out for her, kiddo," Bael finally stated. "She's got somethin' an' I'm sure there's someone out there that wants it." One of the other employees came out and tapped Bael on the shoulder. "What is it?"

"Phone call. F-for Pretty Hate," the bumbling teen stated.

"Do I look like Pretty Hate?" Bael sneered. "Or...maybe does she look like Pretty Hate." The teen seemed to be beside himself with awkwardness and apologies. Pretty Hate chuckled a bit, then stood up and walked to the phone. "I always love watchin' you walk away..." Bael said just loud enough for her to hear him.

Pretty Hate rolled her eyes and picked up the phone, "Hello?"

"Hi, is this Pretty Hate?" the voice inquired.

"Depends. Who wants to know?"

"Someone who is trying to get in touch with your boss."

"My boss?"

"Yeah, DJ Angel," the voice said, then fell silent.

"Why don't you call the station?"

"Tried, no answer....look, this is important. Can you give her a message for me?"

"Who is this?" Pretty Hate asked suspiciously.

"Isabella Flores. She'll know who I am. I need to see her right away, but I can't go to Paragon City on account of the fact, well, everyone thinks I'm dead. She'll understand. Please, hurry! This is important!" And with that, Isabella hung up the phone.

Pretty Hate blinked several times and put the phone back on the hook. "That's odd."

Bael was at her side. "Who was that and how'd they know to call here?"

"Isabella Flores...and I don't know. She wanted me to have Angel meet her."

Bael mused for a few moments. "Hm. Be careful."

******
Angelica lighted down at the station doors. She sighed, then chuckled and walked through the threshold, heading for her office. She waved to a few of the DJs who were there doing paperwork--Logos, Cyclos, The Paperwork Ninja....Wait... she thought, Did Coz let him back in here after that last incident?! Ugh...that man... She finally got to her office, unlocked the door and stoppered it open, taking a seat behind her desk to look through her database of music that was "Lovecraftian" in nature. She glanced at the photos on her desk--her wedding picture with Ian; a picture of her with Shecky, Sultry, Pyrria, Crypto, Templar, and Attercap; a picture of her and Jules in their pj's from the Pajama Party two years ago; and one of her with Mini-Angel and Plushie-Angel. There were photos around her office of other friends--Aerial and Mini-Aerial 42 (with George, of course); Wild Muse from the Freaker's Ball; Posthaste and One Hit Wonder's wedding day; Py and Connor's wedding picture; Pretty Hate in a tug-of-war pose with Ghost Widow and one autographed picture of Ascendant. She chuckled as the memories of each of those pictures flooded back to her. Such wonderful memories--memories she hoped she would never lose. She gave a sad sigh and looked back to her computer. Her phone buzzed with an incoming text from PH.



Angelica blinked. "Really?! That's....weird," she thought. "Well, the playlist shouldn't take too long to do, I'll check on Isabella in a few minutes." She began to work on the list but her thoughts kept returning to Isabella.

Isabella "Crypt Walker" Flores had died and been bound with chains to the underworld. Angel had offered to give her life anew if she would but simply put her faith in the power of the Holy One. Demoryel had offered her life anew if she just accepted a little kiss... Demoryel's promise of power won out in the end. But, perhaps Isabella was having a change of heart? Maybe there was still hope for the one whose hope had died. As she put the crowning piece on the playlist, she hit "SAVE" and grabbed up her keys, locking her office door on her way out. As she headed toward the door, Dante passed her in the hallway, "Oh, hey, Angel..."

"Heya, Dante," she responded absently.

Dante arched a curious eyebrow at Angel's response, "Everything alright?"

"Hmm? Oh! Yeah, just an old friend wanted to meet up with me. I have to head to St. Martial for a little. I should be back in time for the event tonight, but just in case I'm not around by the time Pretty Hate starts, ping my phone. GPS will tell you where I am. I need to be back in time for the audition tonight, but you know how I can be!" She gave a nervous chuckle and waved to him as she walked out of the station. Dante got an odd feeling... maybe it is stirrings of his new powers after tapping into the Well of the Furies and started the long path to become an Incarnate like Statesman or Lord Recluse, perhaps his old intelligence operative instincts kicking in... maybe it was the tacos from El Supernatural Mexicano he had for lunch, he wasn't sure. Dante simply shrugged his shoulders as Angel left and heard a crash from his office, "GORRAM IT, COZ!".

With a small chuckle, she headed for the Pocket D--the most direct route to where she was headed--and ran through. She smiled to the guard at St. Martial's door and nodded that she understood how rough it was there but she still really needed to go. He let her through after a few moments of discussion and she flew to the pillars in front of the Giza. She did not find Isabella there, however. Instead, she found the broken and battered form of...

"GABRIEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she shrieked. "No! Nonononono!" Her eyes filled with tears as she lighted down next to him. "No, no!! Please, not Gabriel!" She tried to gather his limp body into her arms, then froze in unutterable horror as she realized his wing had been ripped from his body. Her stomach pitted and then tried to claw its way up her esophagus and out into the world of man. "Oh, my soul...." Gabriel's left eye opened a sliver and he looked up at his sister. He tried to move his hand to touch her face, but he had no strength. Angel tried to pass her healing energy to him--to take his pain onto herself. She shuttered as the pain intensified with each wave. Finally, he managed to grip her wrist.

"....stop...." he whispered. "...g....g....go.....home.....Suriel...."

"What?! And leave you here?! Gabrie---"

"...it.....is ..... a tr....tr...."

"Trap?" came the familiar low voice of the last person she wanted to see. A pain cut through her heart like a knife. "Thank you, Gabriel. Your services are no longer required. Jezebella, you may have your plaything." Vorn paused and sneered a grin, "...and I....have mine."

"The Mistress doesn't want her dead, Vorn," Isabella snapped.

"I know," he glared. "But that doesn't mean I can't have my fun." With that, Vorn plucked Angel from off the ground by her wings, grinning a wicked grin. "Don't worry about Gabriel. Isabella will keep him just fine."

Angel's heart sank. She watched without choice as Isabella--now Jezebeth the Deceiver--pushed an icy finger into Gabriel's right eye. Angel closed her eyes. The painful scream was more than she could bear as Jezebeth cackled with glee. "The brain is such a fun thing to study...but, it should be...on ice!" Tears streamed over Angel's cheeks as she began to cry, morning the loss--even if briefly--of her brother, Gabriel.

"Now, Angelica," Vorn sneered in her ear, "We have some unfinished business...." And with that, Vorn took to the skies, carrying Angelica to his lair. "Believe me when I say this day could not come soon enough."

Angelica grit her teeth. "You're just mad because I hit you with a forklift last time!"

"SILENCE!" He bellowed. "I did not ask for your voice to exit your throat. I ought to crush that pretty little throat of yours..." He stayed his hand, however, and touched down to his lair. "No... no, not yet. I want to hear your delicious screams...."

She swallowed. This was not going to be a fun night. Ever so discreetly, she hit a button on her cell phone. She just hoped that someone would see the ping and come before it was too late. Once inside the lair, a cracking backhand sent her spilling to the cold floor and into blackness.

**********
Ian Reynolds had just gotten home from the grocery store when he felt an odd sensation--it was as if his left eye were being ripped from the socket and a needle was being shoved into his brain. Doubling over in pain, he clutched at the table, then dropped to his knees letting out a cry of pain. But, just as suddenly as the pain came on, it disappeared. He blinked back tears and checked to make sure his eye still functioned. Satisfied that he could see, he looked up. Suddenly, doubts refilled his mind, for standing in front of him, cloaked in a white, holy light was Gabriel.

"She needs you, Ian," Gabriel began. "But you are not ready to face this battle alone. Go. Find her friends and bring them with you. Vorn has her..."

Ian blinked a few moments, then shook his head, "Wait...what happened to you? Why aren't you helping?"

Gabriel stared at him a moment, "They killed the temporal body, Ian. It will take a few days to reconstruct a new one. I've already told Michael--unfortunately, the Demoness had planned for this. He is fighting her even as we speak. But, you must save Suriel. Please." Ian nodded and reached for his phone. There was, indeed, a ping from Angel's phone coming through to his. He tapped the ping and it zeroed in on her location.

"St. Martial?! I thought I told her not to go there without me..." he glowered.

"She did what she thought was right at the moment, Ian. Do not be upset with her..." Gabriel scolded.

Ian nodded and turned to head to the station. He always hated going in there--mostly because he had grown accustomed to his retinas and Coz had a way of making them hurt. Still, Angelica was in trouble and he would need help. When he arrived, he nearly ran into Dante. "Oh, hey..." the men both spoke their apologies. Ian cut in, "Pheo, listen, there's a problem..."

"You got the ping, too?" Pheonyx said with earnest, sliding the leather jacket aside to reveal the holstered .40 caliber on his hip and the flames that made up his mutant abilities flickered from behind his yellow-tinted glasses.

Ian nodded and the two headed for St. Martial.

*************
"So much fun," Vorn gleefully applauded. "Who ever thought that I would become a pleasant pheasant plucker, hmm?" He spun in a circle admiring all the white and pink feathers on the floor. Isabella was busy gathering them up. "What on earth are you doing," Vorn stated rather than asked.

"I was going to make a down jacket," she smiled. "...and maybe a shirt...and a pair of pants....I mean, think of the power in these feathers!"

"Ah...but look at the original owner, now, hm? Not so beautiful anymore," Vorn grinned and walked toward the victim. Angelica was chained, spread eagle, against the cold stone wall. Her glorious wings of white and pink were now nothing more than flesh and bones, bloodied and bruised. Tears flowed from her eyes as her body shook from the shock. She sniffed and whimpered, silently praying for strength and compassion. Vorn sneered down to her and trailed a pointed fingernail along her cheek...back and forth....back and forth.... "Such a waste," he then dug the nail into the soft flesh of her cheek and left a gash in the pale skin. Angelica let out a whimpering cry and drew in a sharp breath. "What do you have to say, Angelica? Will you kneel before Vorn?"

"...never..." she whispered. She hadn't expected the chunk of ice to fly from across the room and hit her squarely in the back. She also hadn't expected it would break her ribs. She started coughing, each jerking movement jabbing the bones into her lungs.

"I think you will..." Vorn grinned. "Cut her down!"

Dutifully, Isabella released Angelica from the chains that bound her to the wall. She slid down the wall into a crumpled heap on the floor. Vorn, hands on his hips, tilted his head back in hideous laughter. "See? Even the Celestials bow before me!"

"Not all of us," Ian declared as he kicked open the door. "Prepare to meet whatever foul thing created you, Vorn." He drew from the scabbards, two white-hot swords of Justice and began stalking towards Vorn. Isabella threw a few ice cicles at him as he stalked forward. He paused, turned his head to the left and started for her. While Ian and Isabella fought, Vorn watched in amused satisfaction--until he felt a gun at his neck and heard the distinct sound of the slide of an automatic pistol click into place, putting the gun's hammer is ready position.

"Somethin' funny, Slappycakes? How's the gut, doin', by the way?" Pheonyx grinned from under his shades. "We'll be taking Angel with us--and I'd highly suggest not coming after her again."

"I didn't go after her!" Vorn smiled in defense. "She came to me!"

"Whatever, I don't care, dipshit... and this makes TWICE I've punked your old-school Foundation style." Pheonyx finally declared. "Ian, leave her and grab Angel. Let's blow this joint."

Ian glared at Isabella. His righteous indignation flared up inside of him--as did his protective nature. The woman was backed against a wall and grinning at him. "You know...she's really into girls...why do you think she gets along with Aerial and Pyrria so well, hmmm?" She then erupted into cackling laughter and Ian growled. He growled, then thrust both blades forward into Jezebeth's stomach. She ceased her laughter and looked down, just in time to watch him rip the blades sideways out of her body. They locked eyes for a moment. Blood pooled at the corner of her mouth and began to trickle over her chin, then her knees gave and she fell to the floor in a heap.

He stared for a moment, then turned and walked to Vorn, sticking a blood-soaked blade tip in his face. "You're next."

"C'mon, Ian....grab Angel and let's go. I got Vorn," Pheonyx called.

Ian glared deeply into Vorn's face, dragged the blade tip along Vorn's cheekbone, leaving a nice, neat gash and then leaned down to collect his crumpled wife's body. Before he could stand, Vorn delivered a driving blow to Ian's back, knocking the wind out of him and pushing him down upon Angel, who let out a pain-filled scream. Dante fired off three "Rikti Stopper" rounds, hitting Vorn in the arm, the leg, and foot. He collected Angel and looked back at Ian, "I can only take one of you..."

Ian nodded, holding his ribs, "Go...I'll catch up..." Dante nodded, and shot a grappling hook from his wrist. He looked back at Ian, then reached down and slammed Ian's mediporter and zipped up the line with Angelica, still managing to somehow flip Vorn the middle finger as they were pulled upward by the grappling line wrist bracer's micro-winch.

*******
Mercy Hospital was filled with good people. It was beneficial to have such a place--a place that could repair most damage quickly. Ian's ribs healed almost instantly and Angel's, though tender, seemed to be strong. Her wings, however....There was nothing they could do. They were just bones...and would remain so until the feathers had time to regrow. Angel nodded and looked to Dante and Ian. "Well...could be worse."

"How's that?" the men asked.

"You two could be dead...like Gabriel..." She frowned for a moment and looked down. After a long, awkward silence, she looked up and smiled. "Hey, they're just wings. They'll grow the feathers back, don't worry. Pheo, we've got an audition to listen to and I have an event to play. The wings will be the perfect fit for the theme tonight, anyway! It's H.P. Lovecraft's birthday!"

Ian and Pheo exchanged a look. This was only the beginning...

_________________
Love & Celestial Kisses,


DJ Angel, Station Manager
Champions Online: @djangelica | The Secret World: DJAngel
Twitter: @Kryssieness | Facebook: Angelkins | Skype: crymson_fate | YIM: fair_hero | Steam: Angelcakes
The Snowflake Diaries | dA | Ravelry

Friday night was difficult. All her friends kept asking about her wings. They seem so important to everyone else... she thought. I'm not even sure why this incarnation has them... She looked over her right shoulder to the flesh and bone that was there and pulled her lips to the left in thought. She looked back down at the envelop and smiled. Ah, Wisecracker... she was never sure how to take that one. But, in his own words, he had done his good deed for the day--in the envelop was an instruction booklet for making Tech Wings. She chuckled again and set it to the side, then returned to her packing.

"You shouldn't go by yourself," Ian mumbled as he leaned against the door jam watching. "It's too dangerous."

"I have to, sweetheart," she said without looking up. "I have to find Michael and this is the only way I know to do it."

Ian sighed and looked at the floor. "Let me go, instead."

Angel frowned, her heart was simply breaking, but she had to be strong. "Ian, I love you. But you are not ready to face what's out there alone. Gabriel--an Archangel and Seraph--was taken by surprise. And he's done all this before. No, I cannot risk your life to seek out Michael. Not after what they did to Gab---"

"He's still alive, Angelica," Ian barked. Angel blinked several times. Ian just hung his head and shook it, with a sigh, then ran his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I know what they did to Gabriel's corporeal body, Love, and I can't let that happen to you."

Angel smiled sadly and walked over to Ian, putting a hand on his chest, "It won't." Ian opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him. "It won't because they cannot tread where I am going."

"It's not where you're going that worries me. It's how you're getting there," Ian stated, his green eyes boring into hers. "...that and the fact it's been almost two weeks since Gabriel's ....whatever it was.... and you've not heard from Michael."

Angel deflated slightly and turned from him, "I know...that's why I have to go."

"Then let me come with you," Ian pleaded, kicking away from the door and following her. "Please? I wasn't there last time something happened...I need to be this time."

Angel smiled at him and hugged him, giving him a quick kiss. "Oh, alright. It's not like you don't know where I'm going, anyway." Ian smirked. Angel rolled her eyes, "Don't get smug, Big Shot. Pack your bag for an overnighter. Let me just tell Sarge my plans are changing."

"Sarge?" Ian asked, quirking a brow.

"Mmhmm. He's one of the guys that comes to my shows every now and then. He's a Master-Sergeant, but insists I not call him 'sir,' so I call him Sarge, which seems fine." Ian just stared blankly. Angel sighed, "He was one of the folks who wanted to help get back at Vorn," then quickly moving on, "Ya know, he's wracked up a lot of enemies. I mean, people I didn't even think would dislike him, can't stand him! Even Wisecracker can't stand him." Ian blinked a few times and just smirked, chuckling. "What's so funny?"

"You."

"Me?! Why am I funny?! What did I do?!"

"Vorn's a bastard. He's been on people's shit-list for a long time, Love. But, now he's gone and done something stupid."

"Oh? What's he done now?"

Ian chuckled and slipped his arms gently around her waist, then leaned down to kiss her. "He messed with the wrong Angel."

************

"Du bist ein Riese Dummerarsch!" Demoryel bellowed as she hurled a beam of negative energy at Vorn. "I give jou vone ting to do....and jou come to mir mit .... dis!?" She indicated the sprawled out Isabella, evisceration still oozing. She clenched her jaw--and her fists--as she stared down at the demonling. "Out." She spoke calmly. Vorn opened his mouth to protest and defend himself, but she cut him off, her face altering to something a bit more horrific...with more teeth. "Get. OUT! Vorn blinked. He had not seen her beauty waver before. Without saying anything, he turned and left the room--much like a scolded puppy. Once he was gone and the door closed, Demoryel set to work.

The beauty faded from her. The fair skin, the green eyes, the vibrant red hair...faded. In its place was the horrifying reality of her true and evil self. Her wings were twisted and gnarled, soot and cinder colored. Her flesh was the color of slate; her hair was long and black; her face bore no resemblance to that of a human, but rather that of an enraged, vampyric pygmy. And it was in this form that she was most powerful. Without limitations of an earthly body, she could do as she'd done in the past--command Lucifer's army. After all, Demoryel was a demon of high-rank and rumors had gone throughout all the levels of Hell that she was the "favorite" lover of Lucifer's.

She stretched her gnarled, taloned hands over the prone body of Isabelle Flores. "Thisss, my precioussss, isss the lasssst time I will do thisssss for you...." her voice hissed in an unearthly and unholy rasp.

"Mistress, it is this body!" Jezebeth whined. "It is weak!"

"Ssssilencccce, imbicccccile!" Demoryel scolded. "Of coursssse it issss weak! A mortal'ssss body cannot handle the power we posssssessss in thissss plane. That isssss why Gabriel ssssstill livesssss!"

"No! No, I killed him myself, Mistress!"

"Fool!" Her voice resonated within the dungeon. "You did not kill Gabriel--only hissss temporal body! And now I musssst deal with yet another missssstake of yoursssss!" Jezebeth recoiled in fear as she watched Demoryel move her hands slowly along Isabelle's body. Demoryel's hands caressed the flesh of the twice-dead woman--so gently, so tenderly, so seductively. When they arrived at the abdomen, the hands lifted from the body a few inches and Demoryel tilted her head backward. The shadows of the room began to coalesce and swarm and swirl together. They whirlpooled around the succubus, then began to reach to her and touch her as a lover touches his partner to arousal. The sight was, truly, erotic and Jezebeth could not help but allow her own thoughts to wander--to imagine herself as one of the shadows. The shadows weaved in and among themselves, taking turns with the succubus, and in turn, yielding some of themselves to her whims. She manipulated the shadows and used them for healing and repair for the broken body before her. "It issss time, Jezebeth....return to your hossssst....and be careful thissss time...."

"Yes, Mistress...." And for the briefest of moments, Jezebeth was one of the shadows--but Demoryel was a cruel Mistress and denied the demon of falshoods the pleasure she sought, instead painfully shoving the demon back into the temporal host. Isabelle's eyes flashed open and she looked up at Demoryel. A slight cry issued from her lips until the demon inside fully seized control. "I-I-I'm sorry, Mistress!" Jezebeth formed with Isabelle's mouth.

"Asssss you should be, weakling! Now. Bring me SSSSSSURIEL!"

Jezebeth scrambled off the alter and ran toward the door. When she turned back for one last glimpse of the horror of Demoryel, she found her to be the way she always appeared--red headed temptress, seductively clad, sitting on her bed in a provocative pose, filing her nails. Jezebeth blinked and Demoryel looked up. Her green eyes flashed red and Jezebeth jumped and headed out the door.

**************

Angelica and Ian arrived in Dark Astoria. It was a middle ground--a hallowed ground--after a kind. If ever Angelica could not wing her way Heavenwards, she knew she could come here and seek out her brothers. She headed for the graveyard and looked about, "Michael?" she gave a whispered yell. "Michael, are you here?"

"...Suriel..." she heard a voice that was not Michael's respond. "Suriel, sister, over here." She followed the sound of the voice and saw Gabriel, shimmering before her.

"Gabriel!" She ran to him, then stopped short, realizing he was merely astral. She deflated slightly.

Gabriel smiled, "Hey, don't be down! Just be careful. I haven't heard from Michael since Jezebeth killed my corporeal body."

"Me, either...." Angelica frowned. "That's why I came here...."

"I know. Suriel, you have to find him....just, please, be careful, Sister." She nodded and Gabriel smiled, vanishing before her.

"Ian...we have a problem."

"I figured," he replied. "What do you want to do?"

"We have to go back to the beginning..." she stated cryptically.

"...the beginning?"

"Well, not the actual beginning, but very close to it..." she reiterated.

"I do not understand...."

"Eden, Ian. We have to go to Eden. I have a very bad feeling about this..."

***************

Something wasn't right. Everything had gone too easily. There had to be a catch...

"Going somewhere?" a voice cooed from the trees. "I didn't think you'd have the balls to come back here..."

"I didn't think you'd remain such a coward."

"Coward?!" came the spitting word. "I roam freely, doing my own business, fighting my own---"

"You do not fight!" came the biting reply. "You have others do your bidding for you. You convinced so many that you were right and for what? To what end? To be---"

"Thrown out of my own house!" hissed the response. "You threw me out on my ass! All of you turned your backs on me and treated me like a steaming shit-pile! Wh---"

"Listen to me, pl--"

"Why the fuck should I listen to you!?" the hate-filled words ripped through the gardens of Eden. "You made me this way, Michael! You, Gabriel, and our darling sister, Suriel. Do you know how long I've been waiting to do this?"

"Do what, Lucifer? Kill us? We did what--"

"HE told you to do! I know. If you forgot, I was fuckin' there." Lucifer slithered from his hiding place. He squared off against Michael, both in corporeal form. "Well, y'know what I gotta say? Fuck Him. Fuck Him, fuck Gabriel, fuck Suriel, and FUCK YOU!"

"Lucifer!" Michael scolded.

"What? Are you going to cast me into Hell? Go for it. You're just His bitch and you know it!"

Michael filled with holy wrath. One thing hadn't changed--Lucifer still knew how to press Michael's buttons. With a primal yell, Michael drew out his fiery sword--Judgement--and started toward Lucifer. But, Michael had not anticipated the legion of demons Lucifer summoned to his side--he had not anticipated facing not only Lucifer, but Demoryel, Abigor, Baal, and Samael. Each one, in turned, summoned their own legions of demons. Michael soon found himself overwhelmed. Judgement cut through the lesser demons, banishing them from this plane, but one Seraph against five arch-demons proved to be more than Michael could handle. Lucifer laughed as Michael was disarmed--quite literally--by Abigor. Lucifer chortled as Samael removed the wings--one piece at a time. Lucifer sneered as Baal began to peel Michael's flesh from his body. Lucifer cried in ecstasy as Demoryel defiled the Celestial.

"I'm so giddy with glee, I can't express myself!" Lucifer giggled with maniacal glee. "Why, Michael...do tell us how you feel...."

Michael, still barely alive, looked over to Lucifer. His body shuddered in pain, but it was slowly ebbing away. He could feel his Celestial spirit releasing. He smiled a weak, painful smile, "How do I feel?" The demons leaned in to hear the whispered words of Michael. "I feel pain," the demons grinned with glee, "I feel pain that you do not understand the difficult choice we made so long ago, brother...I feel pain that you never will..."

"NO!" Lucifer cried. "NO! NO! NO! NO!" he stamped his feet as the others dissipated. "That's not fair, you bastard. But, I should have expected that from you. Good luck working your way back into heaven!"

"I do not need to work, Lucifer," Michael stated. "You do not have to work, either. You just merely need to accept tha---"

"Save it," Lucifer interrupted. "Save it for the mindless humans who care about your bullshit." Lucifer grinned, one final trick up his sleeve. "You will have to work your way back into Heaven...because where you're goin'? There ain't no door..." He produced an ancient dagger, the hilt of it was gilded silver, with bone and ruby accents. The blade was gnarled and weathered, but it still seemed solid. Michael's eyes widened, for he knew what manner of dagger Lucifer now held in his hands. "I can't wait for li'l sis t' find you!" Lucifer snarled out, then plunged the dagger deeply into Michael's heart. The Celestial released a holy cry of pain and terror as his spirit blew into a thousand pieces, then, like iron to a magnet, rushed into the dagger itself. Lucifer grinned at the grotesque shell before him. "C'mon, li'l sister Suriel....come find Michael."

_________________
Love & Celestial Kisses,


DJ Angel, Station Manager
Champions Online: @djangelica | The Secret World: DJAngel
Twitter: @Kryssieness | Facebook: Angelkins | Skype: crymson_fate | YIM: fair_hero | Steam: Angelcakes
The Snowflake Diaries | dA | Ravelry

((holy craaaaaaaaaaap O_O))

_________________
don't run away... it's only me.

[Team] Lobotomies: Note to self, get scissors.
[Team] Cheeseman: Just don't run with them
[Team] Lobotomies: But that's the best part!
[Team] Cheeseman: But you'll put someone's eye ou- oh I see



@Pretty Hate

Angelica knew something was amiss when she and Ian arrived in Eden. Cautiously, her eyes moved over the landscape and native entities, drinking in details. Something within her knew...

A small glint of light caught her eye. Curiously, as only Angelica was, she started toward the place where she saw the gleam. Ian stayed with her, defending her from the entities that tried to obstruct her path. "Ian, leave them....they just want to see...." Ian blinked and stared at his wife as she walked. He couldn't understand her compassion on, well, everything. He was a fighter, trained for battle. She, however, preferred peace and love to blades and guns. As she neared the location of the flash of light, she thought her heart would stop.

"...no..." she whispered. "No...no, this....this....can't be...." She swallowed hard and turned to face Ian. "We have to leave. Right now." Ian blinked and opened his mouth to question her. She quickly silenced him, "No time to explain. Run!" He nodded and turned, heading toward the portal, Angelica on his heels. As they scrambled for the portal, Ian felt a sudden burst of cold; his upper body, carried by the momentum, lurched forward, but his feet were frozen to the ground. Angelica plowed into him, causing his legs to buckle and snap. Dazed from crashing into her husband, she never saw the ice bolts coming at her. One after another, after another smashed into her chest, pinning her to the ground in pain. As she struggled to sit up, she finally caught a glimpse of her attackers. "Ri....Rijarin?! Isabelle?!"

"Save it. Someone wants a word with you..." Rijarin grinned. He stalked over to her and grabbed her by the flesh and bone that were her wings. She let out a cry of pain and he grinned. "So good to hear you scream...I look forward to hearing much, much more..." He grinned wickedly and tossed her over his shoulder. "Have your fun, demon," he sneered to Jezebeth. "Just keep him alive..." And with that, Rijarin lept into the air and carried Angelica toward the Darkness.

Her scream was the last thing Ian heard; a searing pain shot through his stomach as Jezebeth plunged a dagger into his belly. "Payback's a bitch, ain't it?" He stared at her a moment, mouth slightly agape. Jezebeth grinned. "Don't worry, you won't die. I have to keep you alive. For some reason, Demoryel finds you useful. You're handsome--that's probably it." She ripped the dagger from its place and Ian let out a gasp of pain. He crumpled to the ground, closed his eyes and focused, and began to regenerate the wounds in his body. "You know this doesn't have to end like this..." Jezebeth stated, interrupting his focus. "Suriel doesn't have to die..." Ian said nothing. "She just has to admit that Lucifier didn't deserve to be treated the way he was..."

"I don't really see that happening, do you?" Ian growled. He fiddled covertly with his GPS beacon, sending out signal to Idrael, Jules, and Sarge.

Jezebeth smiled. "It depends. Is she willing to lose you, too?" She grinned and stalked around the wounded man, tossing a leg over him and straddling him. She produced a silver, bone, and ruby hilted dagger, dragging the flat of the blade alone his cheek, "See this?" She held it in front of Ian's face. "This is the Dagger of Anathama." Ian glared at the demoness. "It's only purpose is to bind the souls of Celestials."

"...and demons. I know it well."

"Do you?" Jezebeth grinned. "Then you won't mind joining Michael until I summon you!" She stood up, lifting the dagger above her head, poised and ready to plunge it into Ian's heart. "Say goodbye, Iaoth..."

(( At this point, I will open this thread for the weekend for those wanting to be involved to post. You will not find Angel. You may come upon Ian & Jezebeth, but send me a forum PM before you post any action regarding them. MSGT T. Morris is the one to contact regarding Angel's whereabouts come Friday night. This post is currently IN THE FUTURE, but I won't be able to post it when it would go into effect. If you have questions, IM me ))

_________________
Love & Celestial Kisses,


DJ Angel, Station Manager
Champions Online: @djangelica | The Secret World: DJAngel
Twitter: @Kryssieness | Facebook: Angelkins | Skype: crymson_fate | YIM: fair_hero | Steam: Angelcakes
The Snowflake Diaries | dA | Ravelry

((Does this mean since Rijarin nabbed Angel, I get to write up something about him prsenting her all pretty on a platter for Demoryel? ;D Kidding. I'm leaving his part all up to you, though I'm enjoying the whole thing! ))

_________________
Mizythra: What does the queen actually do these days?
Maelthra: Convenes parliment, feeds her corgies... offers to cut up the prime minister's food for him.
Mizythra: ahahahah. Wow.
Maelthra: srsly
Mizythra: What does the king do? Anything?
Maelthra: Is no king
Mizythra: Well, when there is one.
Maelthra: Same thing, but hopefully with less dogs

29 AUG 2011

"All right, boys, got a light recon patrol coming up." Master Sergeant Morris looked around at the faces in the briefing room, all of which he knew. All of which were glad to be back in action. After spending so long as a bastard company, and then inactivated, it was good to be flying Regimental colors in front of the command building.

"Regiment got intel late last night - they're expecting a large meeting of demons in the casino in St. Martial. We're not going in to light everything up, we're just going in to see what we've got on our plate right now."

"Weapons tight, roger," acknowledged Sergeant First Class Begley, the platoon sergeant. Staff Sergeant Sutton begrudgingly began piling his explosives on the table, emptying his equipment pouches.

"This ain't your first rodeo, boys," the master sergeant said. "We've been through the shit before, this ain't one of those times. Let's just get in, get a look-see, and get the hell out of Dodge. We board the bird at 2300 hours, ought to be on target by 01 or so. That's all I've got for you."

"Roger, Master Sergeant," the men responded.

*****

The MH-60 Black Hawk helicopter touched down on the shore of the Fortune's Wheel area. The Paranormal Rangers made their way through the city quickly and quietly. In this environment of superpowered heroes and villains, no one gave the Rangers a second look - they had bigger fish to fry, or so they thought.

Acting as though they owned the place, the men entered the Golden Giza through the front door and spread out - Sergeant Tinney and Sergeant Hadfield took the front door, posting themselves as rear security. Sergeant First Class Begley and Staff Sergeant Ellis found a pool table from which they could pretend to play a game while keeping an ear out for trouble, while Staff Sergeant Sutton hung out on a bench near an archway inside. Sergeant "Doc" Best, the medic, followed Master Sergeant Morris into the meeting room and were virtually unsurprised to find a party in full swing. Inwardly, the Master Sergeant winced - several demons were obviously inside, including one onstage. Matching her appearance against his mental records of entities previously encountered by the 95th Paranormal Ranger Regiment, he instantly identified her as a succubus. Definitely not one of the kinds he really wanted to mess with, not even a little bit. Moving right along, he recognized a botched Circle of Thorns summoning, but one of the demons gave him pause. The being appeared to be made completely of ice - definitely a supernatural entity he had not encountered before.

"What do you think about that one, Doc? I'm thinkin' an APIT round might stand a chance against him," he whispered to Doc Best, referring to the Armor-Piercing Incendiary Tracer cartridge regularly used against vampires and the like.

"Tough to say. The ice might act as an armor or the AP nose might punch straight through and just make 'im mad," he said, equally stumped.

The ice demon approached the succubus and the two began conversing - the loud music on the dance floor coupled with years of shooting heavy-caliber ordnance didn't do the Master Sergeant's hearing any favors, and he struggled to make anything out.

"...going to......Celestial....Eden," was virtually all he could make out. Angel, he thought, frowning immediately. He didn't know too many creatures that went by the term 'Celestial', having never had to fight one before. To his limited knowledge of benevolent entities, Angel was the only one.

The two conversed more, but the combat veteran had a hard time making heads or tails of the conversation. Reading Doc Best's poker face as best he could, he knew the medic was equally at a loss. Between the two of them, they were able to make out one more word - "Lucifer." References to that bastard never ended well, and Master Sergeant Morris' heart sank.

From his right, a woman stumbled away from the bar, headed over and tapped Doc Best on the shoulder. "Help you, ma'am?" he drawled in his Southern accent.

"No, but he'll help you off the floor," she said. Doc Best's face registered confusion before she brought her knee up to his crotch. The poor medic crumpled, doubled over in pain. Body armor protected against a great many things, but this was not one of them.

Master Sergeant Morris, with years of honed reflexes, pulled his trusty Colt M1911A1, his thumb cocked the hammer in one fluid motion. "May I ask you if you've completely lost your marbles?" he asked incredulously.

It was hard to understand the drunken woman's speech, but she placed her hand over the Colt's barrel, slurring something about gunpowder. Little did she know, the 95th Paranormal Ranger Regiment made their living dealing with the undead, the demonic, and the just plain weird. Their R&D section, after extensive testing, had developed a gunpowder derivative that would indeed ignite under extremely adverse conditions. Adverse conditions, of course, being alternate dimensions where normal gunpowder just plain didn't work, or even the several magical no-fighting zones they had had to fight their way out of.

The drunken woman continued slurring about how she was a slave to her troublemaking family as Doc Best stumbled off, to be relieved by Sergeant Tinney who arrived with his M4A1 with the underslung M203A1 grenade launcher at the ready. Master Sergeant Morris waved him off, and Sergeant Tinney lowered the weapon hesitantly.

"None of us are slaves," the Master Sergeant admonished. "No matter where we come from, no matter who we are, we define ourselves by the decisions we make, the paths we chose for ourselves."

She slurred something else about how she had basically gotten her jollies off and was disappointed that he held his fire, but she retreated to the other side of the bar.

Looking around, he realized that any anonymity they may have had when they walked in the bar in full battle rattle was gone; it was time be anywhere but here.

"Sergeant Tinney," he ordered, "round up the boys. Its time to go."

The Rangers rendezvoused at the front door, made their movement back to Fortune's Wheel where the helo waited, and boarded.

The succubus and ice demon's barely-heard conversation disturbed him. A chill ran through his body, but it wasn't from the helo's open door. He clutched his old M1918A1 Browning Automatic Rifle, finding comfort as he always had in its solid heft, the way the wooden stock slipped naturally into the hollow of his shoulder, the knowledge that whatever happened, he could stand to and make a fighting stand. I've got to find Angel and warn her, he thought to himself. Shit's about to get uglier than ever.

*****
31 AUG 2011

"On the plus side, Master Sergeant Morris, we've finalized the reactivation and reorganization of the 95th Rangers," Major General Michael Connors said, nodding. "First Battalion of the 95th is already at 100% strength and deployed to Transylvania for training maneuvers."

"Look, sir, that's fantastic, and I'm really glad to hear we're finally back as a Regiment, but what about the Paragon City detachment? With the intel we picked up on Monday, we've got demonic entities taking action against friendlies and I need more men to stop it," MSGT Morris pleaded.

"You'll also be pleased to hear that Dog Company is also at 100% strength and currently deployed to Millennium City, which you'll recall has needed our attention for a long time now - "

"Sir, that's friggin' wonderful, but shit's going south at my loc time now and I need men!"

The general frowned. "Master Sergeant Morris," he began delicately, "we've had Eagle Company's attention focused on Paragon City since the Rikti invasion, you know that. Eagle Company's sector of responsibility will remain Paragon City until such time as its decided you're presence and direct interdiction capabilities are no longer needed."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean!?" Sarge exploded, losing his temper.

"That means, Master Sergeant," replied the general, stressing the enlisted man's rank, "that Eagle Company is already on station and will require no further reinforcements."

"I've only got a seven-man squad, including myself," he protested.

"You have Eagle Company," the general said firmly.

"Didn't you hear me, sir? I've got.... You've got to be kidding me."

General Connors nodded. "Now you're getting the idea. At this point in time, ParaSOCOM has no more personnel to allocate to Eagle Company, 2nd Battalion, 95th Paranormal Ranger Regiment, and as such, you are not only the commanding officer of the company, you are the entire company."

"What the hell am I supposed to do about-?"

"Handle it, goddammit, Master Sergeant! Handle the goddamned problem at hand, report back to me when the situation is under control. Unless you think your age is catching up with you and you're no longer capable-"

"With all due respect, fuck you, sir," Sarge replied, and cut the transmission. He leaned back in his chair, took off his eyeglasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Well, that went well, Top," Sergeant Begley noted. "At least we know what we're dealing with."

"Bureaucratic bullshit," Sarge grumbled. "Sergeant Ellis, what've we got to bring to the table?" he asked.

Looking around the 95th's liaison office in the Vanguard Compound at the Rikti War Zone, Staff Sergeant Ellis sighed. "Not much, Master Sergeant. Vanguard and Longbow elements are stretched thin as it is - we got lucky that we found a helicopter on Monday. Our elements, well, what you see is what you get. Seven men, the personal weapons we have on site, couple hundred thousand rounds of specialized ammunition - silver, cold iron, APIT in .50-cal, .30-06, 7.62, 5.56 for the sniper rifles, battle rifles and light machine guns. Got the same mix in .45 ACP for the sidearms. In 12-gauge, we've got a couple thousand rocksalt and wood stake shotshells. Assorted fragmentation, incendiary and smoke grenades, both hand and 40-mm M203. We've got one M1114 Up-Armored HMMWV with attached Browning M2 .50-caliber heavy machine gun, one falling-down shack off to one side of another agency's compound. Outside of that, Top, we've got two more things - Jack and Shit."

Master Sergeant Morris rolled his eyes. "Basically standard field load, heavy on the ammo."

"Just like always, Master Sergeant."

Sarge kicked the desk halfheartedly. "It'd be best if we had more men, but we're screwed on that count..."

"What's the plan, Top?" Sergeant Hadfield piped up.

He thought for a long moment. "All right, well, as you know, DJ Angel, you know, from the radio station, is a Celestial."

"What kind of Celestial?"

"One of the good ones. Doesn't matter what plane she hails from. What we do know is that she's one of the supernatural entities we're supposed to ally with and make all nice-nice. Winning hearts and minds, and all that. If we're friends with supernaturals, hopefully they won't irrationally hate us an' we'll all get along. Makes our job easier. Doesn't hurt that she is a downright decent, good and kind human-bei... Well, whatever she is. She's good and kind, that's what matters.

"Our mission, as I see it, is to prevent bad things from happening to her and entities like her. Same as always. Save the good guys, kill the bad guys. It ain't rocket surgery, boys. Phase one of this op'll be to see if we can't find her before something ugly happens. To do that..." He frowned, running through the options in his head, weighing them against the available assets. "Well, shit, looks like we're gonna do this the old-fashioned way. We search the city for her."

I don't have the slightest idea what to do if that doesn't work, he neglected to add.

"And operations in the Zone?" Staff Sergeant Sutton inquired.

"The Vanguard will have to hold the line without us. They know what they're doing," Master Sergeant Morris replied. "We'll split into teams," he continued. "The HMMWV seats five with the Gunner, so Sergeant Begley will command that vehicle. Sergeants Sutton, Hadfield, Tinney, and Doc Best will roll on that vic. Sergeant Ellis, you're with me. We'll go through Crey's Folly and Baumtown together, and split up at Independence Port, see if we can't find her that way."

Staff Sergeant Ellis looked puzzled. "Um, Top, we only have one HMMWV. Are we hoofin' it?"

"Hell, no," Sarge replied. "I'mma drive my Mercury."

(( I haven't finished reading yet, but if the "ice demon" you're referring to is Rijarin (which I'm assuming, since I recall that conversation from the last Sanctus show), he's not a demon, he's fae ))

_________________
Mizythra: What does the queen actually do these days?
Maelthra: Convenes parliment, feeds her corgies... offers to cut up the prime minister's food for him.
Mizythra: ahahahah. Wow.
Maelthra: srsly
Mizythra: What does the king do? Anything?
Maelthra: Is no king
Mizythra: Well, when there is one.
Maelthra: Same thing, but hopefully with less dogs

((I know that, OOC-ly, but the Rangers don't. Note how they mention they have no immediate idea how to deal with him? Never seen one of them before. And when the place is packed to the gills with demons, well, it'd take an extraordinary leap of illogic to immediately assume fae. I try to keep my OOC knowledge separate from my IC knowledge as best I can.))

(( Good point. He's been mistaken for a demon more than once even OOCly, so I just wanted to make sure you knew as it would make a difference in how to deal with him and such ))

_________________
Mizythra: What does the queen actually do these days?
Maelthra: Convenes parliment, feeds her corgies... offers to cut up the prime minister's food for him.
Mizythra: ahahahah. Wow.
Maelthra: srsly
Mizythra: What does the king do? Anything?
Maelthra: Is no king
Mizythra: Well, when there is one.
Maelthra: Same thing, but hopefully with less dogs

02 SEP 2011

Six fresh tanks of gas and thirty-eight hours later, Master Sergeant Morris and Sergeant Ellis found themselves cruising down the same road in Steel Canyon for the fifth time, with no end to the search in sight. No leads, no information, no nothing. It was as if Angel had vanished from the face of the earth.

Undaunted, and completely immune to human feelings such as fatigue, Sarge's 1968 Mercury Montego's big 427 cubic-inch Cobra Jet engine puttered away happily, cheerfully burning gasoline and propelling the rest of the machine like that was its job. Which it was. And that engine was damn good at it. The suspension, which Sarge had upgraded specifically for a friend he hadn't seen in ages, didn't so much as creak as he piloted the old Mercury around the same corner, again, for the fifth time.

Sergeant Ellis reached for the ASIP radio under the dash, grabbed the handset and keyed the mic. "Eagle 1 Victor, this is Eagle 7 Victor, radio check, over."

The response came back immediately, "Eagle 7 Victor, Eagle 1 Victor, roger, your goddamn radio works, still haven't found anything, out."

Sergeant Ellis looked over at Master Sergeant Morris, the faint traces of a smile playing about his lips. "Well, proper radio etiquette says its always the station that initiates the transmission is the only station authorized to 'out' other stations."

"Ryan, shut the fuck up."

Sergeant Ellis replaced the handset on its hook, leaned his elbow on the Mercury's armrest and looked out the window, frowning.

Master Sergeant Morris, usually perfectly capable of dealing with Sergeant Ellis' unique sense of humor, was exhausted and aggravated, as was Sergeant Begley, the man operating Eagle 1 Victor's radio. The Mercury alone had added nine hundred and fifty miles to her odometer, and that was done all by doing loops through Paragon City's districts. The search seemed hopeless.

The Force XXI Battle Command Brigade and Below (FBCB2) computer bolted to the passenger-side dashboard bleeped. Sergeant Ellis directed his frown at it, tapped a few controls. The FBCB2 bleeped again. Insistently. His frown deepened. "Master Sergeant Morris," he spoke up, immediately professional once again, "I'm picking up a distress signal on the Blue Force Tracker. Its coming from the Woodvale district - Eden."

Sarge's brow furrowed. "Angel?" he asked.

"Don't know. I don't recognize the identifiers, but for some reason its being routed through the GPS network to the FBCB2 network and its being broadcast on military GPS channels. Its definitely being identified as a Blue Force - its friendly. Or so it says." He looked over to his superior NCO. "How the hell did they get into the FBCB2 network? That's classified as all hell!"

Master Sergeant Morris was already downshifting and punching the throttle. "Don't ask, man, that's just a headache waiting to happen." The Montego's transmission slammed into second gear at high RPMs, spinning the rear wheels. Rubber screamed against the asphalt, and the old Mercury powered forward, fishtailing slightly. "Get on the horn to Sarn't Begley, tell him to-" he was cut off by the radio's squawk.

"Eagle 7 Victor, this is Eagle 1 Victor, we're picking up a distress signal on FBCB2. Current location is Atlas Park, we're maneuvering to intercept in Woodvale District, over."

"Eagle 1 Victor, this is Eagle 7 Victor, roger, understood, en route to rendezvous at target location, out." Sergeant Ellis grinned smugly. "I outed him that time."

"Ryan, shut the fuck up."

*****

Sarge's Montego screamed past the diesel-powered HMMWV in fourth gear, halfway through Skyway City, registering 120 miles per hour on the speedometer.

"Eagle 7 Victor, this is Eagle 1 Victor, we're doing 65 and our engine is screaming! We cannot maintain any convoy interval! Need you to slow down!"

Staff Sergeant Ellis looked at Master Sergeant Morris meaningfully, knowing full well that the HMMWV was only rated up to 55 miles per hour. While that diesel engine would cheerfully enable the HMMWV to pull a house along with it, the machine was not built for any speed whatsoever.

"Tell Sarn't Begley to dismount Sarn't Tinney and Sarn't Hadfield and have them push the goddamn thing if he has to, but we need to get to Eden time now," Master Sergeant Morris ordered.

Sergeant Ellis helpfully translated over the radio. "Eagle 7 Actual says to catch up when you can, but we need to be on target time now."

The old Montego screamed through the exit tunnel into Founder's Falls reading 130 on the speedometer. Sarge took the curve, powersliding the big machine sideways, straight, and sideways again. When the road finally straightened out, Sarge shoved the transmission on down into overdrive and gunned it again. The speedometer reached 155 before Sarge finally let off the gas and began gently pumping the brakes. Even so, at the circle at the end of the street, the Montego still screamed sideways as he turned the machine off the road, bounced up over the curb and brought her to rest on the sidewalk under the entrance to Eden. Smoke drifted from the tires as he shut down the big 427 and dismounted.

Sergeant Ellis peeled his fingers from the dashboard and the armrest, where he had been hanging on for dear life, and shakily dismounted as well, moving towards the trunk.

Sarge threw open his trunk, found Sergeant Ellis' rifle and tossed it to him before finding his own M1918A1 Browning Automatic Rifle. He slung his weapon and waited for the HMMWV to finally roll up, which it did, smoke pouring out from under the hood. Sergeant Sutton got out from behind the wheel, rifle already in hand. "Top, Eagle 1 Victor is overheated as all hell - she barely got us here, but she's not going anywhere for a while. You wanna tell me what this is all about?"

"Gentlemen, we just moved into Phase II of the op - Combat Search and Rescue operations. Let's get in there, on the double! Move, move, move!" At his order, the slightly confused but determined Paranormal Rangers scaled the hill, sprinted across the open field, and headed into the combat zone now known as Eden.