Human time on Earth sure was different than it used to be. The years passed by quickly and the humans aged just as fast along with it. Their lives, although growing longer, were still short, so short, and suddenly Abraham could understand why Satan's army was so much larger than the Lord's. There was just too much sin for a creature with such a short longevity to possibly answer life's question correctly, especially considering the mental capacity. They were getting smarter, but the process was slow and inefficient. Many of their own species purposefully sabotaged acceleration plans and destroyed or severely delayed progress in general. It was interesting how self-destructive and self-loathing this chosen species of God was. They were in many respects insignificant and unimportant though for some reason God never saw it that way. Never. Not even now, in what is considered on Earth the 1800s in England. England. A place of sharp income disparity, great suffering, starvation, and filth. There were noble plays and performances, fancy and, for the first time in a long time, well chosen fashion, but that was about it on the positives of the era. Abraham, an angel of the Christian God, had slipped away from Heaven permanently to be in control of himself, his misery having given him the strength to finally turn his back to God. He had been living among the humans at various locations on Earth for a couple hundred years now. He had seen progressions, more regressions, beautiful artwork and despicable battles. All in all though he had marshaled an even stronger disdain for humanity, though his loathing for God kept him trapped on Earth. He had travelled to England on a rouge, vague feeling. It had been a long time since he had experienced such emotions - a 'gut feeling' as they're commonly referred to. It pulled him towards the damp country and deep into London's roots, right in the centre of a wide and varied cultural exchange among many different people. Most were poor, sorry creatures barely surviving. Everyone except the nobles were covered in layers of dirt and filth-caked rags. Abraham absolutely hated being there, but the longer he stayed, the more he wandered within the city, the stronger and clearer the feeling became. It was still hazy and somewhat far away, but he began to feel more at ease in the city, even if he was normally stared at thanks to his appearance, height, and consistent wearing of clean and fashionable clothes, normally higher-buckled black boots, black slacks that rose past his midriff, a black belt, and black suit jacket, complete with wrist cuffs, rings, necklaces, and a ruffled undershirt, a light grey in colour. The whole outfit accented his long, straight, dark brown hair that flowed to his mid back, often whisking behind him in the breeze. His look, so immaculate, made many of the citizens uncomfortable, and many of the nobles hateful, envious, or completely won over. Many noble women had tried to garner his attention (and some of the men), but Abraham knew, could just tell somehow, that they were not what his feeling had brought him into the disgusting city for. No, there was still something else and he'd just have to put up with all the others until then. Even if it was trying on his nerves. Today Abraham was passing through a different section of London, one quite far from his flat that he tricked his landlord to believe he was paying each week, and a little different. It was less filthy and a little more picked up. Houses didn't line the streets but instead little shoppes, most pertaining to entertainment or goods relating to recreational activities. There was a bookstore devoted entirely to Shakespeare, a dress and robe shoppe, one that sold herbs and tea, and one that was definitely a mixture of several directions that sent a sharp 'feeling' into Abraham and suddenly he just knew. Stopping suddenly but only for a moment the angel collected himself and moved forward determinedly. He wasn't sure what to find inside the shoppe or what it was he was even looking for, but the feeling had been unmistakable and it just felt so right to approach the store, which was closed, much to Abraham's disappointment. But as soon as he had gotten close enough to realise it wasn't open, the feeling within him vanished and he was left feeling just as lost as before. This store wasn't the thing he was looking for, but it was related, somehow. The angel didn't have the slightest idea as to how, but could only close his eyes and give his head a slight shake before moving on, slightly fouled with how it went. Was God or Satan influencing him, perhaps? It was somewhat of a crazy idea but he could definitely see evidence of them both in humans, rather frequently too. It wouldn't be completely surprising but yet... Abraham just couldn't bring himself to quite believe the whole hypothesis. His mind, body, and soul was just playing a grand trick on him. It had seemed that way ever since Raphael left. Perhaps it would always be like this.