The Devil's Dream (IC)

OOC: I here by decree the Devil's Dream In Character thread OPEN!!! Nyahahahahahah!!


A cold wind blew through the humans’ city. Fall had long since arrived, and was not receding into the cold grasp of winter. Grey storm clouds, and icy chills were becoming common place, and none would be surprised but the foretold coming of snow. The city too seemed colder, darker, lessened in some way by the harsh chill of the season.
The night of spirits, All Hollows Eve, had come and gone. The longest darkest night of the year as well, nothing outwardly appeared to have summoned the coming celestial storm. Humans’ lives continued in their blissful ignorance, as they twittered about along their short, pointless lives.
But this time, the night of spirits had left something behind. The darkest dark of the year, had left a stain behind, hidden, sunken, seeping into the minds and lives of ever mortal in the city. Some could feel it, those cursed Degreys were already on edge.
It was him.
It was the Prince of Perdition, the Unholy Hand of the Damned, the Devil’s Lieutenant, Beelzebub, the Prince of Hell, and Lord of Flies, had risen from the pit, and walked the earth, his black soul a dark stain upon the world.
It was a simple matter really. The seal had grown weak indeed, it was waning, waiting to be broken, all it needed was someone to deliver the final blow, and it would shatter apart.
That was why Beelzebub was born into the mortal world again. That is why he stood atop Swartz Tower, masked in the guise of Adam Swartz. To all human servants of the large law firm, the prince was nothing more than the bastard son of their founder. To their founder, and several of his partners, he was the reason for their success, the holder of their Deals. He’d given them a good one really. Wealth fame and power, and all they had to do was provide for him.
And provide they did. Three floors of the large black tower were his to do with as he pleased. Renovations were already underway. The top three were his, now the Tower wasn’t the tallest in the city, but it was damn close. The first three of the Prince’s floors was being remade, renovated from a cooperate office, to more of a conference room, four small offices being refurbished into guest chambers, and the whole floor being redone in a bit of a darker shade.
The second of his three floors was… more eccentric, a bed chamber, despite the fact that its denizen never seemed to sleep. A large black wood bed with lavish crimson red silk sheets, a few matching furnishing, simply for show, the Prince didn’t need them, but having a bedroom in the office building would become useful in future explanations. The only thing out of the ordinary, aside from having a floor dedicated to one kid’s bedroom in a cooperate law firm building, was that the feeds from all the security cameras feed into a series of monitors on this floor.
It was the third floor that humans weren’t to see. It was this reason why he’d had his security system separate from the building’s. Cold concrete floors and walls, chains and cages, empty and vacant at current, but not intended to stay that way decorated the walls, and something in the shadows seemed to watch you. Intended to eventually house both prisoner and pet, this was Beelzebub’s floor, not Adam’s.
It was also the roof that belonged to the Devil Prince, though perhaps a different part of him. A rose garden, a half dozen red thorny bushes dotted the edges, just against the light railing, and rooted next to a rich green customized grass, such that it would’ve been cheaper to carpet the roof, and replace it once a month for several years. A small cobble path lead away from the bunker like stairs that lead down into the building, a half step up, and a large concrete expanse was on your left, on your right a small juvenile apple tree. Too young to bear fruit, at least until the coming spring… Atop the stone expanse rested a smooth black piano, draped over by some black waterproofing sheet and not yet touched.
Another step up and you stood beside the devil prince himself. Looking down upon those that scurried beneath him, standing beside a fountain, not yet running, it held nine beautiful circles, stair stepping down, until the final one’s left side opened up into a large but shallow pond, also dry at the moment.

Beelzebub stood, human for what that mattered, grimacing down at the people dotting the street below. “Worthless humans…” He practically spat the words from his mouth, lightly following this dot or that one with his eyes. “I haven’t even touched them yet, and their still…” He couldn’t find the word for it. These humans, they were given everything, they were given choices, and time and time again they chose to be cruel to another.
Beelzebub didn’t blame angels for hating him or his kind. He hated them back after all. It was in them, part of what they were, an angel hated demons, and demons hated angels. It was how it was, it was what they were. None of them could help it.
“But humans…” He hissed a little under his breath. Humans were given a choice, they didn’t have to hate their brothers, and they did anyway.
It was too easy to corrupt them. None of them gave any real resistance.
Sure there were those that hated demons, hunted them even, but never was it because they were demons, or because the humans desired to do god’s work. It was because of Vengence, never Virtue, never Honor.
“These humans today. None of them knows anything about…” His mouth curled up at even the thought of speaking the word. “Purity.” And then a slow, careful, deliberate smirk spread across his face. “Someone should show them what wickedness is.” He raised a slightly hand to his lips, casting off his human shape and letting his horns slowly rise from between his hairs, his eyes flicker into life, and his claws slowly extend from his nails. He took a light lick of his claws. “Who better to show them? Than the prince of wicked…” He grinned a little, and cast his eyes out across the sunrise.
Angels would be arriving shortly. He could feel it, even with the Eternal Night, his presence in this city couldn’t go unnoticed. He’d tipped the scales. And whether or not the angelic force knew he was here, they could be drawn, compelled to right the scale, even without knowing it. “All things in balance.” He hissed a little, and slowly began contemplating his first move.

Ellie drove through the streets of a fairly run down neighborhood, glancing at her watch every few seconds out of habit, due to the fact that the watch had been dead since Halloween. She was late for work.
Yet agian.
As she turned back onto the main road, Ellie sighed deeply, pondering the possible reasons for Gods sure hatred of her as she found herself caught in a traffic jam.
"Oh, come on!" she cried out in frustration, hitting her dashboard.
She had awoken to the awful sound of her alarm blaring in her ears that morining, seeming louder than ever, to discover that her clock had gone off an hour late. After juggernauting through her morning routine at a speed that the Bionic Woman herself would have had to stand back in awe, she had hopped into her old blue Camery and sped to the office.
As soon as Ellie saw the light turn green,she began mentally urging the cars to move. As she stared at the streets, mentally cursing the slow drivers to a firey grave, she felt something. It wasn't a feeling so much as it was a vibe. She looked around, a cold shiver running up her spine. She had been feeling that a lot lately.
Like something dark was surrounding the city.
She brushed it away as the cars in front of her started to move, driving as fast as traffic would allow her to go, to work.

There is something wrong in the world, briskly walking down the street, dark auburn hair flying behind her as she pushed her way past the humans. Something dark, tipping the scales, she thought as she swung a left, gritting her teeth as the icy wind hit her forefront hard, pulling at her jacket she had over her hoodie.

Despite the weather, Abigale was not cold, but she didn't feel like having the pathetic humans stare at her if she went on with her day in just a thin hoodie. They were also so simple minded, easy to fool, even easier to corrupt and to turn on each other. Even as an Angle, Abigale never could understand how creatures with so little time could waste so much of it on useless violence. Ever since her Fall, things have become less innocent to her, and the truth seemed to be coming out.

Gripping her jacket and holding it together, Abigale kept pushing her way past the humans, some untold darkness just ahead. She didn't know who or what it was, but it was powerful enough to get her attention even though her Angelic powers have seem to be fading. "Where are you?" she growled threw her teeth as she came to an intersection buzzing with human life. Her green eyes narrowing into slits, Abby looked up at a tall dark building, there seemed to be a dark aura crawling from inside the building.

Pausing in the middle of the busy ant like human intersection, Abigale stared up, her Angelic vision able to make out a spot at the top, but nothing more then to know there was someone up there. "Why am I here? I have not reason, and no right. I've been cast away," she hissed at herself. Pulling her eyes away and kept walking.

Daniel was in Costa coffe, filling out the orders of some really fat and really rude women who kept tapping her watch everytime he had the motivation to turn and give her a smile. Was it his fault the coffee machine was being EXTRA slow today? NO! It was not. It was stupid Tony who had thought it would be funny to shove his chewing gum up the nozzle and block the whole thing up until Rachel had to rescue it with a sharpened pencil.

Ahhh, Rachel. The entire reason for Daniel's existence. Or so he inwardly joked. She was gorgeous though and she had great personality too. An Art student, just like he was. Too bad she wasn't going to the same college, then they could have hooked up and been best buddies or something while Daniel harbored his secret crush and took the time to stare down her top when she wasn't looking.

"Two Mocha Chocas, One Vanilla Latte and a Criossant. Will that be all ma'am?" He asked politely, as she nearly snatched the tray from the counter and almost sent her purchases spilling all over the floor. Which Daniel had got sparkly clean that morning before the shop had opened. "No, I most certinaly do not want to wait a another second!" She spat at him, a tiny drop of her saliva hitting him in the eye. Charming. "That'll be £5.75 please then ma'am" He watched her busy herself away while he sorted out the right amount of change, then shutting the till to turn to a rather pretty looking young woman in a white blouse. "Well, ehy there, how can I help you?" Today was going to be such a drag. Good thing the occasional attractive female (and male) perked up his day little by litte.

Beelzebub smirked a little. He could feel the eyes of some celestial creature, for just a moment. The Prince liked his claws again, though this time he wasn't really tasting his claws, which he liked to do just because he tended to have some sort of something under them, but this time the was tasting the air. He could feel something more... potent in it, something greater than a human, but not quite as sweet as Angels'. He grinned a little more.
"Hmm..." The Prince purred to himself. Perhaps it was time he mingled with the creatures of this century. He turned and stepped back from the edge, shifting back from his demon form to his human as he descended down into the top floor of his building. He smirked again. Yes it was His building, humans may have built it, but it was his now now. Even if they didn't know it yet.
He stormed down another floor, to the bed chamber he'd had prepared. The season was cold, and he'd stand out more than necessary if he went out without some manner of wrapping. It wasn't that he needed it. Demons never grew cold. Call it an internal fire if you would.
The Prince shucked off his leather coat and leggings, and donned his formal attire. He paused for a moment admiring himself in a tall body length mirror as he adjusted his tie. He smirked a little, nothing wrong with a little pride in your appearance, particularly when you looked as good as him. He smirked again, his eyes flicking as hot coals for a moment before he placed his shades over them and brushed back a lock of his hair, smiling at himself one last time before he strode down the last fight of stairs to the cooperate office floor of his, and stepped into the private elevator that was the only way to ascend to his floors. He blinked a little as he reached into his suit pocket and found some small little plastic 'key.' He felt it a little, it was nothing more than a square, and there was no keyhole for him to put it in, just a small black plastic square beneath the buttons.
Beelzebub tentatively waved the technology in front of the reading square and the elevator dinged as the doors closed. He smirked a little. Humans and their creations, it would never cease to amaze him what humans could come up with. For every invention they used to harm one another, they had another to protect themselves.
The Prince adjusted his sunglasses and smirked, brushing back his hair a little as he toyed with the small gold bangles just beneath his bangs. The elevator dinged again and the Prince stepped out. The smiling blond girl with a bust almost as large as her head smiled at him and graciously bid him farewell for the day. He simply nodded back to her.
Having a human form was helpful, but it did cause so many headaches as well... Though as fun as actively torturing mortals was, there was nothing quite as gratifying as watching a beetle squirm as you slowly crushed it beneath your thumb, slowly feeling everything crack and leak from the creature as it twisted in it's death thralls. Beelzebub grinned and stepped out onto the cold street, adjusting his sunglasses as he smirked a little more. Humans were so akin to insects, sometimes he had trouble differentiating the two.

Swinging a right into a Starbucks, Abigale froze just in the door way as she felt that same darkness again, although this time on the same level. Her eyes narrowing and jaw locking shut, Abby forced herself forward. It's no longer my place, she said for the um-teenth time since she fell and began to lose her Angelic power.

Approaching the register Abigale ran her fingers threw her hair and smiled at the young human smiling at her, "Hello, how may I assist you today ma'am?" I could take you to bed if you wish...

Fighting her instinct to instantly curl her lips she smiled back at him, "Yes, I would like a medium hot chocolate with cinnamon." Without giving the price back Abby handed out a 5 dollar bill to him and he took it without a word. Despite her loss of powers, human minds were so feeble she could still read their thoughts like they were speaking them. Although, over the past 50 years, even that ability she had to actually think about to use, and any humans with the slightest bit of powers she could only catch words here or there.

Mind if I lick that off you? "Here you are ma'am," the boy said and held the cup out to her, his eyes roaming over her body as he handed over her drink. Taking the drink Abby smiled, allowing her fingers to touch his hand, leaving small burn marks there causing him to yelp and jump in pain. Smiling as she walked out of the store, she had the wonder look of the boys horror struck face as he covered the blister on his hand and stared after her.

Fools, all of them. Fools.

Gabriel Lamb drove slowly through the darkening city. His last...employers...had been generous, and his Porsche caught the eye of more than a few humans. This was his payment for Nigeria. Before that, it had been Chechnya, before that Bosnia. He'd even gotten to go home recently--at least in his terms--to give a man named Ahmed Yassin advice on how to combat the occupation of his homeland. Unlike some of his ilk, there was always a place for Gabriel Lamb in the mortal realm, and he'd stayed here a long time.

He'd felt it, all right, the night of the 31st, the night when he hated his brethren most. He could sense them, then, just across the veil, the legions that waited to march with him at their head, held back only by the Great Old One's fear of losing again. But maybe, just maybe, that blast of energy he had felt meant things were finally changing. For each demon's summoning was unique, and only one was that powerful. Beelzebub was here, and he was close.

Gabriel signaled and turned left. He could see Swartz Tower rising a few blocks ahead. Seeing no reason for his human mode of transportation to be damaged if Beelzebub got pissy, he parked at the side of the road; nobody would even try to steal the car, not after the South African antitheft device he'd had installed. He walked the last few blocks to the foot of the building, paused, and considered.

I don't know his alias, and I can't get up there wearing this meat puppet. I think my best hope is probably to wait in the lobby. If he doesn't notice me, he deserves the property damage I cause on my way up.

And then, lo and behold, the being himself walked out of the door. It was unmistakable; demons had a fondness for using the same human form through the millenia, and Beelzebub looked just as metrosexual as ever. Quickly, Gabriel laid a hand on his arm to get his attention, murmuring in his ear.

"Hello, pretty boy. Tell me that it's starting again. Tell me that it's time for a real war..."

Beelzebub smirked as the first of his followers presented themselves to him. "Hello Brother, I trust you've been having fun?" He grinned a little and shrugged off the other demon's arm.

The prince swept back his hair, just to distinguish he intended for the battle demon to follow him as he continued down the street. "I must admit, things have changed since I was last here... though things have also remained the same..." He turned back and glanced at the other demon. "What was your name again? You reek of battle..." He ground his teeth a little sizing up the other creature of hell. He felt old, not a lesser creature, someone he probably should've remembered.

He didn't have the 'style' of tempter demons, they tended to get a little too, human, after a while. This one still seemed to raise himself above the sheep of this world. And a request for a real war... a soldier? An old one from the feel of him. Might as well throw him a bone. "Our war isn't yet... but I am here too... rally the troops as it were. I trust you'll aid me in this matter?" It wasn't really a question. Beelzebub never asked for anything, he just liked to give the impression he did. It was one of those little torments that made sure to fill creation with just that right amount of mild malice and contempt.

Gabriel smiled sardonically. It would be just like them to forget about him. While they'd been laying low after the last go-round with Heaven, he'd been busy making humans, who were supposed to be the point of the whole fight, either utterly miserable or grotesquely dead--sometimes even both. War brought out the worst in humanity, and Gabriel had caused a lot of them in the last seven hundred years. But no. No appreciation, not even a remembrance of his name. This was what he got for staying away from demonic politics. And "reek of battle?" What was that? Had all the forces of Hell forgotten what they were there for? His answer was just slightly more tactful than his thoughts.

"The name is Azazel. And of course I'll help you...that is, as long as you're stronger than I am. That's how the hierarchy works, after all."

"Actually I'm afraid the 'hierarchy' is now more, kill those who are weaker than you and don't know it, or get killed by those stronger than you when you assume wrong." Beelzebub smirked, he may not have recognized the face, but he knew the name. Azazel, one of the greatest soldiers of the old guard. He was strictly old school, as the humans might have put it. And as far as the Prince knew, he was nothing of a politician, not one to scheme of his own accord. He was a hired murderer, but one of the best.

He was exactly what the Beelzebub needed. "Adam Swartz , Lord of Flies and Prince of the 'homeland' shall we say?" He smirked a little, clearly thinking himself at least a little clever. The Prince brushed a lock of his perfectly kept hair behind his ear and stopped, just outside a Starbucks. "Care to join me for a coffee? I hear they're all the rage." It was more an invitation to talk than to drink, but Beelzebub also wanted to try the 'espressos' he'd heard were the chosen beverage of the kind of human he tried to be, and he was curious why.

Holding her hot chocolate in her right hand, Abby swung a right just outside of the store and sat down on one of the may ice cold round tables, each surrounded by four metal chairs. There were a select few other humans who chose to sit out in the cold like her to enjoy their drink, but most seemed to be frozen to their seat now and were shaking to much to move from it. If anything the cold chair was refreshing.

A small smile pulling at her lips, Abby took a small sip of her hot coco and watched as humans hurried back and forth, rushing to get out of the cold as fast as they could. It truly was hard for her to believe that she once fought with her life to protect these pathetic creatures. They should be able to fend for themselves, she thought to herself and shook her head lightly. Taking another sip of her coco, Abby froze where she was, her green eyes shooting into the crowd and scanning over the humans. It's here. Coming this way. "Who are you?" she whispered to herself and gingerly placed her cup on the table as she stared out into the crowd of humans.

Gabriel suppressed the desire to scream in frustration. Clearly, nothing had changed down there in the last three millenia. Politicking, mincing around, a lot of accidents that went 'just as planned,' and nothing of real significance. They'd abandoned the War in Heaven and the war for Earth and left him hanging out to dry. The rage he felt was palpable; but he hadn't lived more than 4000 years without acquiring some talent for dissimulation. All he said was: "Gabriel Lamb. I know who you are; it's hard not to. Everything with metaphysical senses has been either yammering in a corner or wondering where to find an angel-forged personal defense weapon ever since you got here. And I can tell you from long experience that coffee is foul. I suppose it's as good a place to talk as anywhere, though."

"Well nice to hear that I haven't lost my clout just yet. But you'll understand if I assume your definition of foul and mine may be a little different, I haven't exactly been enjoying the luxuries so abundant in this world." Beelzebub smirked a little more and gingerly lifted the wallet of some, middle-class nardowell teen, that happened to be waiting in line for some sort of caffeine based beverage. "Of course that isn't to say you have. But you'll understand if something that wasn't previously pumping through some sort of entity sounds refreshing."

He smirked a little more and started leafing through his newly acquired wallet. There was a lovely picture of a lovely little redhead smiling at the camera just inside the flap. The Prince took it out and examined it. "What do you think?" He held the photo out for Gabriel to examine. "A rather good likeness don't you think? A wonder how they get the paints so smooth though..." He ran his thumb over the surface and shrugged a little putting it back before he began leafing through other less personal things, ID, Credit Cards which were completely beyond him. He honestly thought that they might've been other forms of Identification that he wasn't aware of, though he'd never actually admit that he didn't know what they were for. A few thousand years bellow ground and suddenly he felt out of touch.

Dreary. Crowded. Loud and full of angry humans. It truly was amazing that they have lived so long without the aid of the Angles. Letting out a long tired breath Justin flew down to the human world, keeping to the shadows as he came within the humans weak eye sight. Landing gracefully in an alley way, Justin stood to him maximum height of 7’1” and glanced around the area. Poor creatures, he thought and let his eyes fall shut. Folding his massive wings in close to his back, in a bright flash of light Justin shrank a couple of inches, new clothing on his body and with a cringe Justin’s hand flew to his chest and felt a shirt there. “That I could do without.”

Pausing before he removed the shirt, he saw all the humans on the main street just outside of his dark alley way all wore such attire, and more layers then what he was wearing. Cocking his head to the side much like a bird he walked forward and glanced about. They must be cold. Poor things are so fragile, he thought and gently reached out with his mind to a passing human.

Fucking winter. I hate the cold. To fucking crowded in these damn streets and fa-
Pulling away from the humans thoughts Justin shook his head and let a small smile pull at his lips. Choosing to keep his shirt where it was, Justin made his way out into the sea of humans. Before he could make it more than five feet he froze and the overwhelming presence of darkness. “Prince.”

Abby shook her head and pushed the dark feeling from her mind and quickly shook away the cold chill creeping up her spine. Letting out a long breath she lifted her cup and took another sip. Already cooling off. Damn, she thought as she drained half of her hot coco. Placing her cup back down she let her eyes fall shut for a moment, and let her mind reach out to feel emotions, thoughts and anything else that would distract or amuse her.

In her daze, Abby was suddenly thrown back into reality when a powerful light erupted close by in her mind. Her green eyes shooting open she turned just as Justin walked out of the alley. No, was her only thought as her heart began to race, her body frozen in place. What’s going on? she thought to herself as she continued to stare at the man that banished her from the heavens.

'Good God' Thought a young, beautiful woman as she neared the Starbucks cafe, her nose finely tuned to all the scents and smells around her. 'Not only is their coffee cheap but mixed in with the aroma of several non-humans and my nose feels like it will explode' The woman sighed, her name was Larka Van Helsing, the surname not being her own but having been taken from the reknowned Vampire hunter, whose name had sparked fear even into the most deadliest of Vampires, back in her homeland of Transylvania. She had adopted it simply because she found it appropriate, she was currently being hunted herself by the foot soldiers of the self proclaimed King Vampire, Count Dracula himself, though his efforts were always fruitless. His foot soldiers were always left, knocked unconcious in some unholy gutter at the side of the road. 'God, he does annoy me so. You'd think he would learn to give up and accept defeat once in his lifetime. Honestly, men are so predictable, not to mention aggrivating'

Larka slipped into the cafe, a bell tinkling above her as the door opened. She was completely oblivious to the several stares she was recieving, from both men and women. In a flurry of long, sleek black hair, like a cascade of midnight sky, she was at the counter, thanking whoever was 'up there' that there wasn't a queue. She did not want to draw too much attention to herself that the Lord of Flies or his companion felt it necessery to slip in a remark about her heirtage.

"Excuse me, Miss? Can I take your order please?" Larka raised her head to meet the gaze of another young woman, though this one was considerably younger when you knew Larka's true age. The girl suddenly fell into a trance after meeting the gaze of ice blue and she felt a flush rise to her cheeks. The woman in front of her was more beautiful then she realized... While the human wondered why her heart was beating so fast in the prescence of a woman when a) she had a boyfriend and b) she wasn't even attracted to females, Larka gave her a quick sweep down with her eyes. Dirty blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. Wide hazel eyes, a decent curve factor to her slim frame. Tall for her age and a slightly tanned complextion in places which her skin had been exposed to the sun, indicating a foreign holiday of some sort. Larka immediately wondered where she went and if it was near where one of her own business' resided.

"Oh, just a Latte and a Shortbread piece for me, thank you" She answered politely, her voice mysterious like the wind which breezed through the trees and made the leaves rustle and dance on their branches. A small smile came from the secret werewolf and the girl immediately felt warm inside, as she turned away to get what was asked. However, this warm feeling suddenly stopped and a cold pit in the bottom of her stomach arose. Even when she glanced back at the beautiful woman, she could not find that warm feeling again. Once Larka had gained what she wanted, she gave the young girl another small smile, but alas that warm feeling did not return. She gave her a note of money, graciously accepted the change and slipped away to find a table, hopefully one in a corner where she could full out the book in her coat and read peacefully to herself without any non-human disturbances.

The Prince of Hell, while in actuality fully aware of all those moving about him, a talent mastered for survival in his previous home, he simply couldn't be bothered to care. An Angel a wolfe and a something in between, trifles and boring really. He was more interested in getting his first mortal beverage, the mythical 'espresso.'

Beelzebub smirked warmly at the, attractive piece of meat, manning, or rather, womaning, the counter. "Ah, yes, I'd like an espresso please." He said with his best attempt at humanity, it had been a few years, but he didn't come off any less human than most young turks with slicked back hair and shoes worth more than most peoples' entire wardrobe.

"Mocha, Half-Mocha, Decaf, Half-caff, Half-Mocha Caff blend, Half Caff Mocha blend, Mocha Caff blend, or Half-caff Half Mocha double blend?" She replied with the practiced smile of one in the service industry.

"Uhm, regular will be fine please."

"Alright, what size? Grande, Venti, Venti-Grande, or Grande-Venti?" She smiled once again. Though clearly the demon royal was getting a little annoyed.

"Regular will be fine please..." Beelzebub's brow twitched a little. This was turning out to be far more trouble than it was worth.

"Alright now one more thing." The blond barista said with the same smile she'd wore asking the previous two questions.

Beelzebub was ready to rip her throat out. "And that would be?..."

"Do you want sprinkles on that?"

The Prince twitched a little, but restrained himself, a coffee house massacre would set his plans back a little, and more importantly reveal his presence to the world, well more than simply being in the world had already done so. "No, no sprinkles thank you." It was a matter of minutes until his beverage was ready, and all Beelzebub could do is hope that it would be worth the clearly designed by his people establishment. Which of course. It wasn't. One sip and the Prince was ready to side with Gabriel, coffee was foul.

Standing before a great sheet of mirror, which stetched to his ceiling and was wide enough for Andrebis to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Metatron, and still have a few inches on each side. Skin beaded with water, hair still damp from the morning's shower, Ramiel gazed at his reflection. Cool blue eyes stared back. He watched as droplets of water ran in narrow rivulets down his left arm. Bringing his right hand to his left shoulder, he slid it down in a slow, smooth motion - hesitating only slightly when his fingertips came into contact with his burnt flesh. It felt callous and unnatural.

"--the day will be cold, but hopefully clear..." The voice of the clock-radio cut through the tension, and broke the trance Ramiel had slipped into again. It was a morning ritual -- one that had lasted almost a thousand years. Turning away from the mirror, he slapped his hand on the machine responsible for the interruption. He took the clothes that lay freshly pressed upon his bed; a suit of dark grey and a soft blue shirt. With the garments in his hands, he sighed softly and dressed himself.

Standing upon the balcony of his 7th floor apartment, Ramiel slipped the hoop of sterling silver into the hole in his ear. Satisfied it was secure, he leaned out over the railing, watching people as they milled up and down the street, or drove their cars to work. Ramiel didn't work. Originally, yes. He went through many lifetimes of hard labour, but as life on Earth became easier for humans - it became ridiculously simple for Ramiel. He'd lived on Earth for a millenia, and each time his newest persona would "die" - he'd leave the money to himself in his next life. Bank accounts, interest rates, life insurance -- all these things, given time, gave Ramiel enough provisions to rent a large apartment in an excellent part of town, and live their comfortably for many years.

When 'Randell Micheals' was no longer desired, Ramiel would begin anew. Naturally, however, if asked -- Ramiel ran a business. "This and that." he would say. It gave him an honest appearance. There were questions time to time, but money was a cure for all problems. A sigh escaped Ramiel's lips. Humans were... disappointingly easy to slip into dark ways, but were difficult to bring to a path of light. Sometimes, Ramiel would just wonder if it was worth the effort to protect them. In times like those, the pommel stone of Conscience, his angelic blade would darken, and Ramiel would again sigh and ask forgiveness.

Ramiel walked down the stairs outside his building, heels of polished black shoes clicking against the concrete steps. The day was cold, certainly. Though the morning sun was overhead, any warmth it offered was snatched away by the icy blades of the wind. I wonder what kind of day it'll be? Closing the button of his suit, Ramiel prayed it would be a good one and began the short walk into the busier city center...

Rio swore as the sole of her Doc Martin's flopped against the city pavement. She walked a lot, never tiring of life's simple actions (and because of her refusal to buy or steal a car), but it was apparent that her human-made boots were unable to keep up with her stamina. She flopped past an old theater, sneaking a peek at the ticket prices: nine-fifty for regular admittance, eleven for the midnight double feature. It was economic blasphemy.

She scratched the back of her head, making the hair stick up, and smoothed down her bangs farther into her face.

"Humans..." she thought as a young man with a greasy, untamed Mohawk whistled. "So ignorant." If only they knew what war was waging on the other side. Naw, better to mess with their sense of security.

Rio stuck her up-turned nose in the air, breathing in a wave of delicious human-food-y scent.

"Coffee. Coffee sounds good." Shoving her hands into the pockets of her dusty Petticoat, she continued walking, her sole still flopping uselessly. She didn't have to walk very far to find another Starbucks, what with them taking over the culinary world and all. She crossed the street without looking, sending a car honking. Flipping off the silver BMW without a sideways glance, she shoved through the glass door, a jolly little jingle following her. Another smell hit her, causing her to hesitate.

"That’s not coffee," she mumbled. Not daring to spare a glance, Rio shoved to the front of the Starbucks line, sending a blonde woman with rather large breasts stumbling into a businessman. Ordering her coffee and ignoring the overly happy salesclerk, she tensed, grabbing a Madeline cookie for support.

The Prince of Hell perked a brow, some small little, demon from the smell of her, had just pushed herself to the front of the line in the coffee house. Perhaps it was younger generation thing, but Beelzebub couldn't see why anyone would be in a rush to get their hands on something as foul as this beverage. But then again younger demons always were in such a hurry to, well to do almost anything.

"You know, it's rude to cut in line." Beelzebub smirked. Humans were always scurrying about for that matter too... He took a sip of his foul espresso. He'd bought it, even if he hadn't used his own money, so he was going to drink it. Plus his persona of the rich fantastically self assured businessman would drink it, no matter how much it tasted like imp juice.

Another thought occurred. This town was supposed to be teaming with demons and the like, and while it certainly seemed to be, there was also an uncomfortably large amount of angels turning up. Something would have to be done about that... But at the same time he couldn't risk drawing too much attention too himself. He'd need someone else to deal with them for him. Gabriel was an old soldier he could likely handle it, but at the same time he had no sense of dance to him. He knew how to kill and fight, and was more than likely one of the best creatures in hell for such a job, but for flare, color, what the humans called panache.

That required... perhaps something, else, something fresher, something, just a little less like a soldier, and more like a...

The Prince of Hell perked a brow.

The Metatron, the voice of god. He had spent a long time on high, watching the creation of his lord grow and change. After all, the seal had kept angels and demons alike form enterfering. He had been one of the first to notice the weakening of the seal, god had seen it comming. The metatron was not surprised, god always saw things long befre any of them did, he knew everything. Other angels had asked why god didn't simply tell them what was to happen and how to fix it, the answer came that they had to learn how to solve things themselves, they had to grow and become more than they were. Many did not understand, how could an angel become more? But god had said it and that was enough for the Metatron, and should have been enough for the denziens of heaven.

In the end a contengent of angels was sent down the earth, Raphiel was in charge, they were to keep a closer eye on things. If angels could interfere so could the fallen and the damned. It was several years before they even saw much demonic activity, and at the provokation of humans much less. The Metatron sighed when he learned this, he liked humans in general and he was disapointed in this outcome. Humans were basically good, he'd decided, and in general mankind wanted four things. Power, the ability to control their own lives and some times other's, which in the end is not all that unreasonable, who would not want to control their own destiny? But Satan had helped to put into the hearts of men a lust for power that could not be slaked easily. The second was wealth, to have an abundance of money or resources, those things that made life easier. Pleasure was another, to have those things that are fine and of good report. Music, foods, art and culture, these were among them, yet again though Satan had perverted that desire and made it debauchery and gluttony. But the fourth thing was one that Satan had tried hardest to destroy, it was love. Love in its purest form was the desire to be accepted and cared for by another. Humans desired this above all things, they did the oddest things for love and it ruled them entirely at times. Love had faired better than the other desires of man, but it had still been twisted somewhat.

It was quite a while before god had deigned to send the Metatron to earth, the Metatron went without asking why. He knew that the will of god was to be done and he would find out his purpose soon enough. As he reached the planet he appeared to be no more than a shooting star that streaked from on horizon to the other. He would land as softly as a dove in a darkened alley of the city he'd been told to go to. In the shadows of an old building he changed. His wings folded in and vanished, his gold armor melted away into a white suit. With his human form in place he moved out onto the street and merged with the throngs of people. He would observe for a while, and act when or where he felt the need.