Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 24, 2014 22:41:32 GMT -5
outfit: link | tag: open | words: 498 She never thought the world could be so cold, she never had felt the freezing weather, or experienced snow upon her arms, but she now had her mind made up that she did not like snow. It irritated her that snow wasn't a being she couldn't smite for bothering her, but then again she'd need a good reason to do so. Quietly she walked through the pale hours of the morning, pausing before a great church, catholic to be exact. The bells tolled, signaling that it time for mass, and so far she noticed not a soul hurrying their way into the church. So solemnly, she entered, her eyes softening at the paintings of Jesus and Mary, the statues of the saints and some of the angels, and slowly she made her way to a place to sit alone quietly.
Her hands lay folded in her lap as her eyes looked upward, worry cast across her face. "God.. I am afraid in this land. I am lost and confused. I was created to serve your will, and to uphold your loyalty, but.. I was cast down from Heaven. What did I do to deserve this? I thought I was doing that which was right? Guide me in finding my brothers and sisters, and give me the strength to bring them back to your side. Give me the strength to punish those who dare to betray you, and give me the strength to continue on in this world as long as you desire me to." she prayed solemnly her eyes still cast heavenward. Then she sighed and leaned back into the pew, unable to hide the weariness in her face.
She had been lost and wandering Earth ever since the Expulsion, and had been unable to find anyone she knew. Of course she had encountered a few demons, which she had dispelled with ease, but as for other angels, she had met none in her wanderings. Rosengela was unsure if they were simply hiding from the sight of other supernatural beings, or if she was looking in all the wrong places. And also there was that troubling fact about wanting to eat. Her stomach growled now even as she thought of food.. Especially those french fries; such a glorious creation.
The sound of footsteps echoed behind her, and she quickly stood, turning her head to look behind her. She couldn't see anyone, and it suddenly set all the alarms in her head on full alert. Rose straightened up tall, her gaze full of promise of impending wrath if she wasn't acknowledged."If you know what is best for you, come out of hiding lest I drag you from the shadows myself and into the light. Also do so quickly. I have a schedule to uphold." she growled, filling her role as a weapon of God's wrath without even having to use her power. More than likely, it was just a shy human anyways.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 25, 2014 18:49:23 GMT -5
it's my declaration the altar spinning on the floor my fight - my darkest white the only war you will adore
Churches of any sort were not Mammon's typical haunt. Though holy ground didn't particularly affect her--beyond giving her a persistent itch that could not be scratched--the nature of those who spent their time here made them a bit more dangerous to demons. It was impossible to know, after all, what priests might know the rites and passages of exorcism. In this instance, however, the heavy risk might be worth the prize.
Mammon had not been upstairs for long, but she hadn't needed much time to take stock of the situation. Heaven was evidently in as much chaos as Hell, given the sheer number of angels wandering the streets in vessels. Her curiosity was piqued, but the angels were on guard; she could not isolate one, and certainly no angel would trust that her interest was purely scientific. Which was somewhat true, admittedly, but still frustrating.
It seemed fortune favored her, then, when she saw the angel enter this particular church. Mammon wasn't sure why, if there was any special purpose of the church. But when she crossed the threshold, there were no devil's traps waiting, no blades swinging at her head. Perhaps she had managed to take the angel by surprise. Indeed, she could hear the angel's fervent murmuring, though most of the words were lost in the echoes--not that Mammon particularly needed them. There were only a few options to pray to in a Catholic church, after all.
Surprise was not what she needed in this situation, though. She wanted information, not a fight, needed to convince the angel that this was one of the rare occasions where discourse was the better part of valor. So she made no effort to conceal herself, letting the door swing shut behind her and her boots clack along the tile floors. It served its purpose, the angel turning to face her.
Mammon stepped into the filtered light of the church windows, hands held outward, palms up, in a placating gesture. "I would rather you didn't," she said, voice mild. "Smite me, that is; I assume that would be your first instinct. I came to talk, not battle."
358 | ROSENGELA | I'M SORRY, I COULDN'T HELP THE PRIZE BIT
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 25, 2014 21:09:43 GMT -5
outfit: link | tag: Mammon | words: 289 Her eyes narrowed as she watched a demon, a foul traitorous creature step into the light from the church windows and raise her hands in an offering of peace it seemed. That act in itself, confused Rosengela, and she instinctively snorted through her nose, something she had learned humans did when they displayed anger; though animal-like, it tended to get the point across. The demon was not wanted here, especially in this place so sacred to her God.
"What reason could you give me, that would convince me not to smite you?" she hissed, striding down the isle, her boots clicking on the stone tiles of the floor as she glared at the demon. "In all my years, I have only seen you demons as being worthy of my lord's wrath, and I have always been glad to give it to you, foul beast." she stated as she reached the main aisle, lining herself up with the other woman, and her watching the other warily.
"Explain yourself properly, and I might give you a running headstart." Rosengela crossed her arms over her chest, all the nerves and fibers in her very being shrieking at her to charge forward and thrust her sword through the demon's chest. However, her own interest had been peaked by the fact that this demon was so bold, and had resorted to a peaceful route instead of running, or the even more foolish tactic: fighting. Perhaps this Earth was changing her, weakening her, as she would have already cut the demon down by now. Either way, she was taking a chance listening to this thing, and she was going to stay on her toes until she left her sight.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jan 26, 2014 0:07:13 GMT -5
it's my declaration the altar spinning on the floor my fight - my darkest white the only war you will adore
Mammon would have preferred to avoid this reaction, though it was hardly unexpected. Angels were nothing if not predictable; she might have respected their adherence to tradition were it not so damned frustrating. Fortunately for her, the angel did not yet seem to realize who she was--or perhaps she really was that brash. An angel would be a difficult battle, but Mammon lacked for neither skill nor experience. Battlefields were Mammon's forte, and so she treated this as one. Swords were replaced by words, of course, but she knew that strategy and tactics were the most important. If it came to a fight, then so be it, but ending this prematurely would simply be wasted effort.
Thus, Mammon took the strategist's route. She was not one for deception, had little use for it in the Second Tier, but she was no fool either. And there as something simpler about schooling her expressions in a host, like a marionette on a string. It was little trouble to keep her expression neutral, peaceable. In the same vein, she found herself trying to map out the pitfalls of speech, trying to determine the best route to gather information from a likely unwilling source. Torture was out of the question, if for no other reason than the time-consuming hassle it would be, so casual interrogation it was.
Mammon held her ground when the angel came storming toward her, refusing to be cowed by a petulant child. She did lower her hands slowly to rest loosely at her sides, not immediately threatening but still able to defend herself. Her stance was stiff, eyes never wavering from the angel's, expression practically hewn from stone for how much it moved.
"If you seek instant gratification," Mammon said dryly, "then there is little to give. I did not come to offer tribute to your father or beg his forgiveness." For the first time since the start of the conversation, Mammon's gaze turned from the angel took regard the statues and stained glass one by one. "What I have offered is peace, at least for the moment; if I came here to fight you, I would not have announced myself to you and simply run you through. Given your current state, I doubt it would have been difficult."
Mammon's gaze returned to the angel then, one eyebrow raised. "And as to why I am here, I came to speak with you. You have information I want and, I suspect, vice versa. Now, shall we speak as adults or continue as we have been?"
425 | ROSENGELA | BELATEDLY LINKING (LAZILY DONE) OUTFIT
|
|