Ethereal Weeds [closed]

Saint Lucifer · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Saint Lucifer** on Fri Aug 21, 2009 10:58 pm

[ ST.JIMMY AND SAINT LUCIFER ]

.plot.

How much do you know about angels and demons?

Do you know that they've been living beside us for centuries, passing by us on the street, sitting in the darkest corners of our restaurants and cafés, glancing at us through tinted windows as they swoop by on the bus? They've been amongst us for years and years, just watching and waiting. No one ever knew they were there, because of their seamlessly perfect human disguises. And if they're angels, they've been quietly, subtly helping the humans - and if they're demons, they've been causing the odd, minor misfortune to people here and there. But because of their instructions not to arouse attention to themselves or become familiar with any humans, they've always been flitting through the shadows, there and gone so quickly no one ever noticed they were there.

Until now.

Modern day. The tension between the angels and the demons has finally broken, and a war between the two beings has broken out. The battle mostly takes place in Heaven and Hell (previously there was no possible way for angels to travel to Hell and demons to Heaven, but scientists from the two species recently cracked a code that allowed them to make the transition), but the angels and demons assigned to 'live' on Earth amongst the humans (known as "weeds" by other angels and demons) are also fighting. And the illusion is, slowly but surely, finally beginning to slip away. The odd human here and there is finding out that there are angels and demons amongst them.

The demons' instinctive solution to this problem is to kill all humans who know of their and the angels' existence - but that doesn't sit too well with the angels. And this only fuels the fight between them, as the angels try to protect the in-the-know humans from the demons who are hell-bent on getting rid of them.

And then, just to stir up a bit more trouble, some of the angels' and demons' alliances are beginning to wander. It is mostly - but not always - the "weeds" who are beginning to change sides, the demons intrigued by the concept of a pure, perfect life in Heaven and the angels tempted by the delicious darkness of Hell.

On the whole, there are not many angels and demons scattered across the world, but there are clearly enough to stir up a bit of trouble and get them noticed now that the war is ravaging both Heaven and Hell. However, there are an unusually large number of the ethereal beings wandering the streets of London, England, which is where our story takes place. And as the tension thickens, as the two species begin to pick fights in public, more and more humans are becoming aware of the existence of the angels and demons. It's not a secret anymore.

.character index.

EVANDEER, Russia - human and female - Saint Lucifer
HARPER, William - demon and male - St.Jimmy
KAMA'AR, Alice - demon and female - Saint Lucifer
ORWELL, Ripon - angel and male - St.Jimmy
ROSE, Dallas - angel and male - Saint Lucifer
WOOD, Casey - human and female - St.Jimmy

Code: Select all: [center][font=vivaldi][size=200][color=#008000]character first name[/color][/size][/font] [img]IMAGEHERE?[/img] [font=georgia][size=90][b]full name[/b] Whatever that may be. [b]nicknames / aliases[/b] Any and all. [b]species[/b] Angel, demon, or human? [b]age , sex & sexuality[/b] how old? , male or female? & hetro, homo, bi, pan, &c? [b]alliance[/b] On the side of the angels, the demons, neutral, having doubts, wandering?[/size][/font][/center]

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Russia

full name
Russia Etain Evandeer

nicknames / aliases
N/A.

species
Human.

age , sex & sexuality
Nineteen , female & heterosexual.

alliance
Neutral - to begin with, Russia is unaware of the war.

Dallas

full name
Dallas Lazarus Rose

nicknames / aliases
Is occasionally called 'Rose'.

species
Angel.

age , sex & sexuality
1750 , male, & bisexual.

alliance
Fighting for his own cause - Dallas no longer fights for the angels, but he also refuses to fight for the demons. So he just wanders about, causing trouble and having fun.

Alice

full name
Alice Kama'ar.

nicknames / aliases
"Grey Alice".

species
Demon.

age , sex & sexuality
572 , female & heterosexual.

alliance
Demons.

St.Jimmy · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **St.Jimmy** on Wed Sep 09, 2009 10:43 am

Ripon

full name
Ripon Mark Orwell.

nicknames / aliases
None.

species
Angel.

age , sex & sexuality
700, male and heterosexual.

alliance
Having doubts: Ripon doesn't know what he believes in.

William

full name
William Krist Harper.

nicknames / aliases
Often just called Harper.

species
Demon.

age , sex & sexuality
954, male, bisexual.

alliance
Harper would definitely classify himself as fighting for the demons, but in reality that's just because it suits his own purposes: having fun.

Casey

full name
Casey Brogan Wood.

nicknames / aliases
None.

species
Human.

age , sex & sexuality
20, female, bisexual.

alliance
Casey was introduced to the fact that there were angels and demons by Harper, who took a liking to her and talked his way into her bed. For a year, he let her work with him, but now he's bored of her and he's simply dropped her - this has led Casey to trying to decide whether she should simply turn her back on him, or whether by fighting for his cause she might be able to win his affections again.

Saint Lucifer · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Saint Lucifer** on Sat Sep 26, 2009 9:44 pm

part i
Even Angels Cast Shadows

+ + +

Since arriving in the human world, Dallas had developed a soft spot for rooftops. Especially the kind of flat rooftops one could comfortably dangle one’s legs from, and especially the rooftops of a city like this. They were perfect for observing the world below without necessarily being seen – in that respect, they were kind of like a shoddier, uglier version of Heaven. On this particular night, Dallas sat on the edge of a rooftop that provided a perfect view of the grimy alleyway below. He sat with his shoulders hunched forward slightly and his head lowered, and from the portion of his face that wasn’t hidden by his sweeping black fringe, one could tell he was very interested in what was going on in the alleyway below. His large, feathered wings were silhouetted against the moonlight. This time of night was the only time angels and demons were permitted to show their true forms, and even then, they had to be extremely careful no humans saw them.

Which was precisely the opposite of what the demon in the alley below was doing. Dallas had been following her for over an hour now, and from her behaviour he was able to determine that she was definitely a loose cannon. You got them, sometimes – angels or demons with no regard for the rules whatsoever, who simply wanted to kill as many humans as they could get away with. It came with being a weed: there were no loose cannons amongst the angels and demons that still resided in Heaven and Hell.

The demon Dallas was watching was young – that much was screamingly obvious. She was young, and vicious, and even more sadistic than your average demon weed. And the best thing about her, Dallas decided, was the fact that her appearance was so deceptively pretty and innocent. She was short, with a petite figure and blonde hair that fell past her shoulders, and her eyes were a deep brown and unusually large. Only her ragged black wings and twisted smile revealed that she was much more powerful than she appeared to be. Any human who saw her in her human form might assume she was eighteen years old at the most, whereas Dallas guessed she couldn’t be much more than a half-millennium old. Dallas himself had already seen one millennium, and had become quite good at gauging the ages of angels and demons around him. Younger ones were more reckless – like the girl below him – whereas ones like himself and older were more reserved, and because of that, even more dangerous.

The demon girl had a male human pressed against the alley wall, and though the moonlight revealed her features, it did not touch the face of her victim. From his voice, Dallas assumed he was something like twenty years old.

“You know what I am, don’t you?” the girl was saying, her voice velvet-smooth. “I can see it in your eyes: that hot, desperate fear. You know what I am and you’re afraid.”

“I… wh-what did I d-do?” the human choked out.

The demon spat on the ground. “You are so fucking pathetic. But don’t worry: you haven’t done anything that I’m aware of. I mean, I haven’t a clue whether you’ve done anything that ‘warrants’ punishment or not.”

There was a brief silence, as the human tried to pull himself together enough to speak his next words. “Th-then why…?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m a bit of an anomaly, even as demons go. The other weeds follow orders like their lives depend on it, but I like to bend the rules a bit.” Her smile widened. “I suppose what I’m trying to say is, I just like to kill.”

And then she killed him. Dallas had to admit, the way she killed him was enviably swift and clean. Elegant, even. As blood splattered across the alley wall, and the body of the human slid to the ground, she managed to avoid getting even a single drop of the red liquid on her. Very nice, indeed.
And then, as soon as the human had hit the ground, she stepped back, completely into the moonlight, and looked directly up at him.

“I aught to kill you now. But first, I’m curious to know: how long have you been following me?”

If Dallas were the type to grin, he would have. So she had noticed someone was tailing her. He had wondered.
In one motion, the angel pushed himself off the rooftop and spread his wings a little, using them to glide to the ground. He dropped down in front of her, folding his wings tidily behind his back. Dallas stood the same way he sat: with his shoulders hunched forward slightly, but in a way that made him look relaxed rather than scared. The silvery light of the mood reflected off his glasses as he surveyed her from underneath his sweeping black fringe.

“You tell me.”

The demon quirked one eyebrow at him. “You don’t seem afraid. But you’ve seen me kill at least one human tonight, and you should know that that killing was effortless. Imagine what I’m like when I’m really trying. You aren’t scared to die?”

“Haughtiness,” Dallas said, without much expression, “is not generally an admired trait. And no, I am not scared to die. Though I’m no longer fighting for Heaven, I still do not have reason to fear death.” He paused, before adding, “You haven’t met many of us. I can tell.”

“Haven’t met many of what? Angels?” The demon’s voice was still laced with fire, but Dallas saw for the first time a flicker of doubt in her eyes.

“No. Loners. Rebels. Those who aren’t fighting on either side, but are simply fighting for the fun of it.”

Dallas knew she was beginning to feel intimidated, and her retort proved it. “Shut up, angel, or I’ll kill you! I swear I will.”

“You know,” the angel said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “you aught to have worked out, from my previous comment about not fearing death, that death threats are ineffective on me. Also, I think that if you were really going to kill me, you would have done it already.”

“Who are you?” For the first time, the demon’s uncertainty came through in her voice.

“Rozu Dorasu.” He pronounced his name as it would be in Japanese perfectly, then translated for her: “Dallas Rose. I like languages. And your name would be..?”

“Alice Kama’ar. So.. you aren’t on either side? You won’t kill me?”

“To be correct, I am not under any obligation to kill you. However, an angel, even a rebel like myself, letting a demon live..? Regardless of the situation and whether or not I could be bothered getting my hands dirty, in the eyes of the general public, I’m a coward for doing so, don’t you think?”

“So, are you making death threats, now?” The fire was back in Alice’s voice, but Dallas noticed that even as she spoke, she took a small step away from him. She clearly recognised that he was both smarter and stronger than her.

“Am I?” One corner of the angel’s mouth crept upwards. “That depends. Are you afraid to die?”

+ + +

Russia Evandeer. Human, nineteen, indomitable, and at that moment, extremely fucking cold. S’what’s to be expected when you walk around at two in the morning, the girl told herself, as she pulled her black bomber jacket tighter around her body. But honestly, this was the time of day Russia loved most. She hated being out in the middle of the day, amongst crowds of people all chattering away to one another or into their mobiles. That kind of noise gave her a headache. No, Russia Evandeer preferred the sound of the gentle silence one found only in the emptiest hours of the morning. There were no cars on the road, no other people walking the streets – the city was sleeping. And to Russia, it felt like the whole world was sleeping. It felt like the whole city was hers for the exploring, with only the sound of her boots against the footpath for a companion.

Russia was pretty much average in height – not short but not particularly tall, either. But she prided herself on her full figure and her long, wavy hair that curtained her face and fell to her mid-back. A blunt fringe crossed her forehead, hiding her eyebrows, and beneath it, her green-brown eyes glittered in contentment. Everyone around Russia knew she only ever seemed happy when she was alone. Tonight, Russia had no true purpose for being out other than the fact that she wanted to be. But it wasn’t unusual to see her out walking at this time of night, deep inside her own head, despite the fact that it was the middle of winter.

Eventually, Russia found she was nearing an alleyway notorious for hiding drug dealers and murderers, and sometimes murders themselves. She’d been here before; of course she had. Trouble and Russia went hand-in-hand. She couldn’t help but be fascinated by and attracted to trouble and crimes and murders. But despite the alleyway’s reputation, she’d never seen or heard anyone in it before tonight. Maybe that was why she stopped, instead of just wandering slowly by it as she normally did: because for the first time ever, she heard voices echoing back from somewhere down it. And not only that, but what they were saying was incredibly interesting.

“Regardless of the situation and whether or not I could be bothered getting my hands dirty, in the eyes of the general public, I’m a coward for doing so, don’t you think?” The first voice was male, and the words were spoken lazily, yet seemed to somehow resonate with power.

There was the sound of one soft footstep, as a second voice, female this time, spoke: “So, are you making death threats, now?”

“Am I?” The first voice seemed to smile as it spoke. “That depends. Are you afraid to die?”

And that was when Russia stepped into the alley. “Most people are not afraid to die,” she said, her voice echoing along the grimy alley walls, “so much as they are afraid of losing their lives.” It was as she spoke that she realised that this was not the murderer-and-victim situation she had been expecting, but something else entirely, something far more interesting. But she didn’t falter until she had completed her sentence, and then she allowed her mind to try to get itself around the fact that both of the people standing before her were winged. The male’s wings were different to the female’s, she noticed. His were white and feathery and elegant, whereas hers were ragged and black. And they looked so real. And when Russia finally managed to tear her eyes away from said wings, she noticed she had gotten her murder after all: there was a body slumped against one wall, in front of the girl, oozing blood onto the ground.

“Excellent point,” the man said. Russia found the way his glasses were reflecting the moonlight slightly unnerving – she couldn’t see his eyes. “Though I suppose you’re now too perplexed by the fact that both myself and the lovely Alice here both seem to be sprouting realistic-looking wings to explain it.”

“What the fuck are you doing, idiot?” the girl – Alice – snapped at him. “Don’t talk to the damn thing. Kill it! It knows about us now, so it has to die.”

“Shut up and don’t talk until I’m finished here. And don’t kill ‘it’, either. Or I will kill you. And I’m pretty sure that idea doesn’t appeal to you as much as it does me.”

Alice opened her mouth, presumably to spit a retort in the male’s direction, but snapped it shut again without saying a word. The man moved a little closer to Russia, his glasses glinting. His walk was languid, and he stood with his shoulders hunched forward slightly, as if he couldn’t be bothered standing upright.

“You would be..?” he asked.

“Russia. Um. Did you kill him?” With one hand, she indicated the body by the wall.

“No. That’s Alice’s handiwork. But that’s not the question I was anticipating. I’d forgotten the body was there, actually.”

“Then what was the question you were anticipating?” Russia’s eyebrows pulled together in a frown – this whole situation was just too bizarre, and becoming weirder by the minute. She didn’t know whether to assume this whole thing was a dream, but it would make a whole lot more sense if it was.

“‘What are you?’” One corner of his mouth lifted slightly into a smile. Out of the corner of her eye, Russia was aware of Alice, leaning against the wall and glaring at both of them.

“What are you?” she asked.

The man’s half-smile widened just a fraction. “My name is Dallas Rose, and in case you had any doubts, I am an angel.”

St.Jimmy · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **St.Jimmy** on Sun Sep 27, 2009 9:28 am

Harper's chest rose and fell underneath Casey as the depths of his sleep caused him to take deep, steady breaths. He was warm beneath her, and she reached across him with one arm to lace their fingers together; the movement caused him to stir in his sleep, but then he turned his head and drifted back off, his hand involuntarily tightening around hers. She smiled to herself: it was during moments like these that it was so incredibly easy to believe that they were in love. Even despite the fact that she had never been told his real name and knew him only as Harper; even despite the fact that she knew for certain that he wasn't exclusive to her; even despite the fact that he had never once said 'I love you' and looked like he meant it, Casey believed with all her heart that she could one day win him over properly and make him fall in love with her completely. After all, she loved him with everything she had. It had been that way since she was nineteen years old, vulnerable and alone, and he had been there, showering her with compliments and ending up in bed with her. Slowly, however, things had begun to change, and no matter how hard she tried to pretend otherwise, the fact was that Harper looked bored whenever they were together now - even, at times, when they were in bed.

Before her thoughts could continue down this painful - and humiliating - path, Casey felt Harper stir again, and then his hand touched her back. She sat up a little, looking over at him and finding that he had woken up; now that she was no longer lying on him, he was free to roll over and reach for his cigarettes on the table by the bed. She let go of his hand, feeling a little disappointed, but it was a let down that she had learned to live with. He said nothing as he lay back again, exhaling a stream of smoke and simply watching her; feeling self-conscious, she drew the covers up around herself. Casey had always felt that Harper's gaze was unfairly critical, but maybe that was just born of her own lack of self-confidence. It had been something that she had always struggled with, which was part of the reason why she was so willing to ignore Harper's blatant unfaithfulness as long as she was still allowed to sleep with him, too: her feeling that she had a distinct lack of self-worth meant that she simply counted herself lucky that he had ever chosen her in the first place, and she chose to believe this rather than challenging him over his fidelity. She felt that she simply did not deserve to tell him what to do.

Harper pushed one hand through his dark brown hair, strands of which got in the way of his eyes; his untidy fringe was far too long, but it didn't hinder him and as a result he didn't cut it. Casey liked it about him, anyway, just as much as she liked every other little detail that made up who he was. Her 'love' for him was in reality more of an obsession - or an addiction - and she knew that very well. Just like everything else about their relationship, it was something that she had learned to accept.

"What time is it?" he asked her, the first words he had spoken since waking up. She cast around for something with which to tell him the time and found the digital alarm clock on the bedside table; it was two in the morning. They had gone to bed sometime in the early evening; their hours worked differently to other people's. It was the first time in around a week that Casey had seen Harper, and she was no longer naíve enough to believe that he had spent the past seven nights sleeping on his own, but she never mentioned that fact because it was easier not to. Had she brought it up, she knew that he wouldn't have cared, but it was far better for herself to cling to the notion that he did consider himself her boyfriend, and that was merely cheating on her. Even though she knew it was false, it was a preferable thought to the truth: that she was just one of many girls that he had to be used and then cast aside when he was done.

"Two a.m?" he asked, repeating her words. She watched him swirl smoke around in his mouth, and then he exhaled it and spoke again. "I have to go. Work to do."

"Oh." Casey fought hard to keep the disappointment out of her voice, but she knew it hadn't worked. "Do you need any help?" He had wanted her yesterday, after all; maybe he would need her for something today. He smiled and shook his head.

"No. It's okay. You go back to sleep."

She watched him swing his legs out of the bed and pull his clothes on, and then he turned and kissed her goodbye. The words were on the tip of her tongue to ask him when she would see him again, but he wouldn't be able to answer and she knew that very well. In the end, she just kept quiet and watched him walk out of her room, lying down exactly where he had been as soon as he was gone. She loved Harper so much, and he hurt her every time, but she wouldn't have left him for anything. He was unfaithful, yes, and sometimes she got the feeling that he didn't even care, but she could live with that. She'd have to.

After all, such were the consequences of falling in love with a demon.

+++

It was cold outside, and William Harper found himself turning up his collar as a buffer against the icy air. He was walking through the darkness that preceded the dawn: the curious two a.m silence when the world is asleep and the only people awake are those whose business it is inadvisable to enquire into. His mind drifted back to thoughts of the girl he had left behind in the bedroom: Casey had been fun to begin with, but now she was far too clingy and to be honest, he was growing bored with her. A year is a long time to be in somebody's company, and he felt that he had exhausted Casey's potential as far as having fun went. Exhaling another stream of smoke into the air, he shrugged his shoulders slightly and allowed them to hunch forwards a little as he walked; another barrier against the cold that was striking through to what felt like his very bones. These lonely hours were the one time he could show his true form, and he took advantage of that now, shaking out his ragged wings loosely and allowing a little feeling to flow into his shoulderblades where the wing joints were. It was a relief, after having had them cramped into position against his back all day.

He had by now hit a district of tall buildings, where shadowy alleyways leaned together, looking quietly menacing in the empty darkness. Harper paused for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the sudden lack of light; the shadows here were longer in the glare of the orange street lamps than they had been on the roads he had walked earlier. To his left, the ugly shape of a disused tower block loomed behind a chain-link fence, broken windows gazing out across the empty street with the jagged shards of glass that protruded from their frames acting as the teeth in the way they leered out across the road. Anybody could be in there. Watching.

"My name is Dallas Rose, and in case you had any doubts, I am an angel."

The voice came from his right, where there was an alleyway that he had not previously noticed. An angel? Harper's interest was immediately piqued, and he found himself turning in order to investigate this voice, when there was a sudden sound even closer to his ear.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

He froze, aware that there was somebody very close behind him, and also aware that they were probably capable of killing him if he put a foot wrong. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice nonchalent because he wasn't particularly afraid.

"I'm the person standing behind you and telling you what to do," said the voice, smoothly.

"I haven't done anything to you."

"You're a demon."

"Then you're an angel?" Harper's reply was swift and his voice shrewd, but the answer he was given was delivered calmly.

"Possibly."

A hand in the small of his back, and Harper was shoved forwards into the alleyway. The first thing he saw was the dead body slumped against the wall, and then his eyes roved sideways across the angel and the human. It was a strange scene, an opinion apparently shared by his angelic captor, who spoke with his question seemingly directed at the other angel.

"What's going on here?"

Harper, however, had spotted somebody who led to him ignoring everything else that was happening and focussing instead on them. A disbelieving grin curved his mouth and he nodded his head towards her almost sardonically.

"Well, well, well. Alice. Nice to see you here. Now tell me: has this guy actually got a weapon to me, or is he just bluffing? 'Cause I can't tell, and I don't want to take the risk of turning my head to see." His whole demeanour had suddenly become much more relaxed, his tone of voice lazy and languid; flirting was quite simply something that Harper just could not resist doing. At that moment, however, the unmistakable sensation of a knife point touching his lower back had him tensing again automatically.

"Does that answer your question?" said the voice behind him.

"Completely."

"Good. Now." The angel seemed to be shifting himself to face his kinsman again, because when he spoke, his words were directed towards him. "Are you going to tell me what's happening here?"

Saint Lucifer · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Saint Lucifer** on Tue Sep 29, 2009 9:57 pm

Dallas’ eyes swung away from the human girl, Russia, to fix on the two newcomers to the scene. His gaze caught first on the demon, who was being shoved forwards into the alleyway, then flicked to the angel, who was doing the shoving. Their faces were not familiar to him, but even without their wings, Dallas would have recognised the species of both of them immediately. That was how angels and demons functioned.

The demon had, after surveying the rest of the scene in the alleyway, turned his attention on Alice, whom he clearly knew. The angel, meanwhile, was inquiring as to what was going on, whilst holding the demon at knifepoint. Dallas looked briefly over his shoulder at the dead human slumped against the wall, then back at Russia, who was busy staring at the newcomers. He supposed it was a bizarre sight to come across – after all, it was very unlikely to come across a demon, an angel, and a human all standing around together and appearing to be talking instead of trying to either kill one another or flee the scene.

“Well,” he said, his tone as smooth and soft and bored as ever, “I was about to enlighten dear Russia here,” he indicated the human girl in front of him, “on the existence of angels and demons, Heaven and Hell, the war, et cetera. Alice was busy being pissed off at me for not allowing me to kill dear Russia, and I believe Russia herself is currently experiencing some kind of intense confusion because of what she has encountered here.” Behind his glasses, Dallas’ unblinking grey eyes remained fixed on the other angel’s face the entire time he was speaking, but did not betray a hint of emotion. “Oh, and I should add that I truly hate being interrupted when I’m talking, so I’ll finish my conversation with Russia here, which should give me what I need to determine whether I’m going to wipe her memories or not, and then we can exchange names &c.”

With that, he swung his gaze back to Russia, and lifted the left corner of his mouth in a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “Where were we?”

+ + +

William Harper. To be honest, he was the last person Alice was expecting to show up in this alley, but she had to admit, she was pleased to see him. She had been contemplating just leaving, as not being able to kill the human was irritating / boring, but now that Harper had showed up, things might just get a little more interesting. She hadn’t seen him for a couple of centuries or so, but they’d known each other back in Hell, before she got sent up to the human world to act as a weed. That was all in the good old days before the war, of course. Things were different now.

“Been awhile, William,” she said, turning her head and smiling at him a little. Her smile, however, had no warmth. “How’s Earth been treating you? Not well as of late, I suppose, going by your current position.” She did not make a move to help him out; she wanted to see how / if he would manage to get out of this one himself. Even with her own kind, Alice was always amused to see someone else struggle.

Stretching her wings out against the wall, she widened her smile and added, “I like that you can still flirt whilst held at knifepoint by an angel.” As she said so, she glanced across at the angel behind Harper, wondering whether he was loyal or whether he was, like Dallas, a rebel fighting for his own cause. If he was a loner, she would have no reason and thus no inclination to attack him. Since the war, many angels had abandoned Heaven, and some had even turned completely, becoming very useful soldiers in Satan’s army, and the reverse had happened to the demons, with some going up to Heaven to fight alongside the angels. But if he was a loyal angel, things would get very messy very quickly in this alleyway.

Alice’s grin widened further still. Messy was just the way she liked it.

+ + +

Russia couldn’t help it. She wasn’t scared of being in the presence of angels and demons, even though any one of them could kill her effortlessly. She wasn’t worried or uncomfortable in the situation. She was confused and a little weirded out, sure, but fuck was she interested.

“We were at the part where you explain your existence to me and I try to get my tiny human mind around what you’re saying,” she reminded Dallas.

His grey eyes seemed to shine, just for a moment, as he spoke. “So. You know, of course, about the ideas of angels and demons, residing in Heaven and Hell respectively.”

Russia nodded once.

“Well. Ever since the beginning of the human race, angels and demons have been sent down amongst you, taken a human appearance, and silently watched your progress. They’re known as the Ethereal Weeds, or often simply ‘weeds’, and their job is simply to watch humanity up close. They don’t interfere with anything unless they have to, and they just blend into the crowd, so no humans ever notice them. Until recently.

“Recently, there was a great advance in what is known as heaven-hell science. Scientists managed to rip down the barrier between heaven and hell, and the angels and the demons went to war. However, this has caused more and more weeds to be sent down to Earth, and of course, the angel weeds and the demon weeds are at war as well. Things get messy at times, especially when an angel spots a demon in a crowd of humans, or vice versa. Inevitably, a few humans have become aware of our existence.”

“But of course, humans ent supposed to know of our existence, so when a human discovers what we really are, there are a few methods for cleaning that up. The demons always take the violent approach: like Alice here, they kill any human who knows. Angels tend toward a more peaceful method, which is erasing all of the human’s memories which concern the existence of angels and demons.”

Russia opened her mouth to say something, but Dallas held up one finger. “I ent done. Occasionally, instead of killing the human or wiping its memories, the angel slash demon will make a companion out of it. It may or may not be a sexual relationship, but it is becoming increasingly more common as the war continues. Some angels and demons are even claiming to be ‘in love’ with humans, and vice versa. And I think we’re done. Any questions?”

He had been watching her face carefully, Russia realised, to see her reaction as his explanation progressed. But she had shown only a glint of interest and excitement in her eyes as he was speaking. There was no fear, no confusion, no worry. She didn’t feel any of those things. She only felt excitement, interest, and beneath that, hope. Because she was so tired of humanity. Russia had often been called a misanthrope, and eventually she stopped denying the accusations and saying, “Yeah, I am.” And here she was, suddenly presented with a life that sounded so much more intriguing than her own.

“Yes. I do have one, actually,” Russia said, moving around Dallas to crouch down beside the dead body. Her green-brown eyes shone in the moonlight as she gazed down at the man’s wide, blank eyes and open mouth, and the blood trailing sluggishly out of his hair and down his face. Another slightly disturbing thing about Russia was the fact that she was fascinated by death.

“Will you erase my memories?” the nineteen-year-old asked, as further examination of the man’s body told her his skull had been bashed against the wall, probably several times.

Dallas turned in the alleyway, moonlight glinting off his glasses as he looked down at her. “No, I don’t think so.” he told her. “You are far more interesting than any human I have encountered before, and I’m curious to know more about you. Unless you would rather have your memories wiped so you can return to your normal life, you can hang around with me for a bit. But keep these in mind: you can’t go back to the life you used to have without losing your memories of angels and demons, and you will not in any way become my ‘companion’.”

Russia smiled softly, but did not take her eyes off the dead man as she answered, “Sounds brilliant to me.”

And with that, Dallas turned back to the other angel, the one who had the demon at knifepoint. “I’m ready to talk now,” he said.

St.Jimmy · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **St.Jimmy** on Wed Oct 21, 2009 7:14 am

It did not surprise Harper in the slightest that Alice made no move to help him out of his predicament. She was, like him, an observer: she would probably enjoy nothing more at the moment than to watch him struggle to free himself from the situation he was currently in, and he understood that because had the tables been turned, he would have acted in the exact same way. Standing stock-still whilst the other angel lazily explained to the human about the existance of angels and demons was somewhat humiliating, but Harper remained motionless, body tensed but with the appearance of being relaxed. Eventually, the other angel turned his attention back to Harper's own captor, and he took advantage of the sudden distraction to twist forwards and away from the point of the knife, ending up close to Alice and with his face finally to the angel who had crept up behind him. Curly black hair and a handsome, sombre face: this was an angel who looked perhaps a couple of centuries younger than him, but one who clearly took himself very seriously indeed.

"Touché," Harper said, sardonic amusement sparkling in his face. "Word of advice: you should always keep your eye on the person you're trying to hold captive, or they might try and escape. Just for future reference." Deciding that the angel was no further threat now that he was no longer unseen behind him, Harper turned to Alice, raising his eyebrows at her. "How's Earth treating me? Pretty well, actually. Humans are incredibly easy to manipulate. No offence," he added unconcernedly in the direction of the girl who was standing by the dead body; as was usual for him, he then proceeded to give her a once-over. Not bad looking, he thought, and the angel who had been speaking to her was right: she was interesting. Humans who weren't afraid of him tended to be humans he disliked, because it limited the power he had to control them.

"How about you?" he asked Alice. "How's life?" How long had it been since he had last seen Alice? A few centuries, he was sure: she had been barely more than a child of a demon at their last encounter, but he had still attempted to seduce her. Unsuccessfully: Harper was not sure if he had ever met a girl with a stronger willpower than the one before him now. She was much more fun to be around than Casey: he was glad that he had made the decision to leave before dawn, and happier still that he had chanced across this alleyway. Boredom was not good for Harper's general wellbeing; he needed constant distractions if he was going to be in a good mood. Glancing back over at the angel who had momentarily captured him, he wondered what was going through his mind. He was incredibly difficult to read, and that was another thing that Harper disliked. Understanding what people were thinking made them so much easier to control, but the angel opposite was completely impossible to make out.

In fact, Ripon was angry. He was not having a good night: first he had been snubbed and practically shouted at by the other angel in the alleyway, and then the demon he had been holding had managed to wriggle out of his grasp and was now having a conversation with his comrade and completely ignoring him. He ran a hand through his hair - he had been harrassed enough as it was lately, with the word 'doubt' sitting so easily on the tip of his tongue but so heavily in his mind, and he didn't need the events of tonight to complicate things still further. He nodded towards the human that was splayed out on the floor, arms and legs at odd angles and the eyes blank and sightless.

"What happened to him?" he asked, wondering if it was the work of the female demon who now stood so unconcernedly talking to the male. "And forgive me, but shouldn't you have done something about her? That's your job, isn't it?" The whole situation was suddenly confusing to Ripon, who felt that he ought to be able to understand it better than this - perhaps he simply needed sleep.

Yes, that seemed likely.

Saint Lucifer · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Saint Lucifer** on Thu Oct 22, 2009 3:01 am

Russia lifted her head as the demon who had been held captive by the unnamed angel (had being the operative word) addressed her; however, she did not move away from the corpse lying awkwardly on the ground as she replied: “None taken. It’s a fact I am already well aware of. Humans eat up whatever you feed them, without stopping to consider whether it’s truth or lies that you’re shoving down their throats. With few exceptions, they are wooden puppets. Pull the right strings, and they dance just the way you want them to.”
Her green eyes darkened as she spoke. Being a misanthrope, Russia hated humanity and had been living on her own ever since she was old enough to leave home. She tended to avoid people whenever possible, preferring to wander the streets at night, when everything was dark and vaguely menacing and there was a distinct lack of living people: just the way she liked things. When she finished speaking, she glanced briefly at each angel and demon surrounding her: the beautiful girl, Alice, who was leaning against the alley wall; the demon beside her, with the interesting fringe, who had escaped his captor; Dallas, who now had his back to her as he faced his comrade; the other angel, who had very handsome features but was impossible to read.

She turned back to the man on the ground, staring into his sightless eyes with a thoughtful, almost curious expression on her face. Nevertheless, she kept her ears on the conversation between Dallas and the other angel, hoping to judge whether angels really were more interesting than humans. She certainly hoped so. She tired of humanity, and this might be her chance to finally escape the monotony that was human life for something darker, more dangerous, and infinitely more exciting.

Alice looked across at Harper, mildly impressed that he’d managed to get himself out of the angel’s hold. It had been too long since she’d seen him. Despite the fact that the last time they’d met, he’d tried (unsuccessfully, might she add) to seduce her, he was far more fun to be around than the dull, tiny humans she encountered every day.
“Life,” she said, twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger, “has been incredibly monotonous as of late. Even with the war on, I don’t get enough opportunities to kill angels, or humans who accidentally discover the fact that I’m a demon, so recently I decided I’d make things a little more interesting.” She pointed with one finger at the body that Russia was currently examining. “Here we see evidence of the fun I’ve been having.”

Dallas regarded the other angel with emotionless stone eyes. “Hmn. What happened to him? He died by Alice’s hand, as I seem to recall. You should have seen it – it was quite an enviable killing. She didn’t get any blood on her at all.” Dallas paused to push his glasses up his nose a little, and try to read the expression on the other angel’s face. It was difficult.

“My job?” Dallas echoed, in his trademark lazy, empty tone. “I am not responsible for anyone but myself. I don’t fight on either side – I am a rebel. I don’t doubt you’ve heard of us. And I suppose, to be correct, I should have killed her even so, but the fact is..” – he laughed without feeling – “I simply can’t be bothered.”

He fell silent for a minute, glancing up at the sky. Again, the moonlight glinted off his glasses. He seemed to like this. Not taking his eyes off the sky, Dallas exhaled, his breath forming a cloud of white in the air before him. “Might I inquire as to your name? And your standing in the war?”

St.Jimmy · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **St.Jimmy** on Thu Oct 29, 2009 9:49 am

They. If Harper had been looking for confirmation that this girl was different, it came in the way she referred to her own race as if she was separate from them - they. The word 'misanthrope' wandered through his mind, and he threw her a sharper look, no longer just examining her appearance but trying to see through her to what made her tick. Unlike most humans, even that was difficult to see with this girl, and he soon brought his attention back to Alice, uneasy now that his examination had been beaten with apparently no effort on the girl's part. His fellow demon was currently pointing at the body on the ground, and his own eyes returned to the dead man.

"You really were bored, weren't you?" he said, his voice holding hints of amusement. "He's very dead." Very dead. One of Harper's favourite descriptions, because yes, it was perfectly possible to be only a little bit dead. He'd inflicted that state on humans and angels many times, and 'very dead' was preferable, because at least it meant less pain along with less life. His attention turned now to the two angels, who were discussing whether or not it was their job to kill demons. The dark haired one who had briefly incapacitated him was looking unhappy, perhaps due to the fact that the other angel had asked directly for his standing in the war. At last, he swallowed, and seemed to find an answer from somewhere.

"My name is Ripon; Ripon Orwell. And I'd place my allegiance with the angels." At that, his eyes flicked upwards to Alice, apparently anticipating an immediate reaction, but Harper was intrigued by the length of time it had taken him to come to that conclusion. A doubting angel?

"You don't sound very sure," he remarked idly, digging in his pocket for the crumpled packet of cigarettes and lighting up. The smoke hazed in the air between them, and, bizarrely, he thought of Casey. Brushing her out of his mind impatiently, he frowned at Ripon. "It took you a long time to make your mind up, and it doesn't sound very well made if you ask me."

"No one did ask you."

Harper smiled; definitely doubting. He looked over at the human girl again, wondering what she made of this, but once again she was impossible to read and in frustration he turned back to Alice, wanting to know what was going through her mind right now.

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