Dwindling Glory - Lament of the Fallen IC

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David Stark
Detective, Chicago P.D. Mage of the Judaic Kabbal.


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"Of course, of course. We'll have to ask them for help, then." I paused for a moment, taking some time to breathe. "We'll have to decide if we want to tell them the entire situation about the girl or not. Who knows. When the world goes to shit you'll see people picking sides and making allegiances. If they're protecting the girl, it also means that they have possession of the girl." Good ol' cynical me turned and shrugged at Alex, unable to help myself from smiling. It's always been a side of me that kept me wary and perhaps even alive at times. I can recount a few incidents where my cynicism saved my life and stopped me from stepping right into a trap.

"Ow," I intoned patronisingly to Alex when he punched me on the shoulder. I shook my head, slapping a hand to my forehead when he reminded me which team he swung for. I knew he was gay - he wasn't too open about it, but he wasn't in the closet either. Not that I ever minded. Homophobia was for retarded, inbred fucktards. "I never said that you had to fuck her, kid," I said, chuckling. "All you need to do is flash her a nice smile, make her heartbeat flutter and feel faint for a moment and then invite her in here to have a cup of coffee with us. At least let her see someone good-looking for once before making her face me." A deep laugh rumbled from the depths of my throat at that. People misunderstanding the meaning of my words always made me laugh.

I raised my eyebrows when I saw Aiya standing right outside the door when Alex was about to head out to drag her in. And the sheep walks into the den of li- I glanced at Alex and remembered what he was. Into the den of a were-lion. I let out another chuckle. David, you're a pretty funny guy.

Bringing a fist up to my mouth, I cleared my throat loudly when Jillian walked in, just to make my presence known, and also maybe intimidate her a little. Make her mouth a little looser to our questions. With Alex's good looks and my practiced brutality and bullying, we made the perfect Good Cop and Bad Cop team. Walking out of the shadows and heading towards the table in the center of the room where multiple files and documents were stacked, I tugged a chair out with my foot and gestured to it. "Well, take a seat and we'll see what questions we have for you."

Gosh, pulling a chair out for a lady? David, you're getting a little soft. For me, that was probably equal to taking her hand and kissing her knuckle.

Pushing the files and documents aside, stacking them up without a care for organisation (more work for the grunts, right? Can't have them lazing about!) I managed to clear enough space such that it would pass for an interrogation table. I sat down opposite of where Jillian would have chosen to sit, and I leaned back in my chair, crossing one leg over another.

"Why were you at the Henge when you found this?" I asked her in a straight-forward, business-like manner and I shoved the photo of the Sigils towards her. "What can you tell us about these ..." I paused, looking for the right word to use so I could test whether she knew about our world or not. "Drawings?"
 
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Pavlana let the song flow freely until the end of the song. She could sense an erratic heart beat somewhere in the small crowd of observers. When she slowly opened her eyes, Pavlana scanned the small crowd of humans that were nearby. She smiled as she sat her instrument down and shook the hand of each person. Every one of them had a calm heart rate. Pavlana smelled the sir and caught the scent of an inhuman being and spotted him. He was the one with the rapid and uneven heart rate. She smiled and started putting away her violin as if he wasn't there.

"So," Pavlana said as she locked her violin case. "What is a creature like you doing in a place such as this?"

That scent could only be from one kind of creature. This man was a mission angel. Why he was here was what she wanted to know. Pavlana hadn't seen an angel on Earth for at least a decade or two, and that one was there because of a half demon baby being born. She helped to remove the demon just as the angel sacrificed itself to become the other half. Pavlana sneezed at the overwhelming scent of the angel and rubbed her nose as she hefted her case over her shoulder.

With a lazy sigh, Pavlana looked at the rest of the paved path through the park and smirked. She looked at the man and smiled softly, letting her sharp teeth flash in the sun as she opened up her umbrella. "Well, seeing as we're both not willing to compromise ourselves in public, how about we take a stroll and observe our Father in Heaven's creation and talk about the things he has done," she offered as she stuck out her hand. Hopefully they could be civil through all of this.
 
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e was not surprised in the slightest that she knew what he was. Was it really that obvious though? Perhaps it was the perspiration from his cold sweat that enhanced the scent. He straightened the knot in his tie, smiling back at the true feeder. She seemed quite intent on getting answers from him, but with civility at least.

The angel had no reason to say "no" to her request. With caution he then examined her and walked to her side.

"What a thing to ask," he plainly replied. "I have to say that I'm more interested in knowing why you're here. Surely not to only provide free entertainment?"

Cassius sneered with a short chuckle keeping his eyes fixed ahead of the two. Was she trying to get somewhere with this? Whether or not, he couldn't expose to her why he was there. She may be pleasant now, but who was to say she wouldn't turn on him if he said the wrong thing. This was not the time nor place to create a scene.

Tactfully, he noted, "You choose to walk with me and refer to God as our father as if out of respect for him." With a short pause, he added, "Why?Call it ignorance, but I thought most, such as yourself, resented the heavenly father." His logic was that they must because they were a failed attempt at improving mankind; and although they blend in with humans, they are still failures of creation.
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[DASH=#FFDC50][DASH=#FFDC50]GM POST
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"Don't start with me, Spiteful. I know what you are. I was one of your stewards in that damnable place. I know the Divina Commedia because I was there when Dante went through the Inferno" said the Fallen, folding his hands on top of his briefcase that he had set atop his lap. He regarded the Spiteful with an arched eyebrow. The vampire had taken to a position ready for flight, but there would be no need for that.

"Calm yourself, child. I did not come to take you back. We need as many of you as we can get. YHWH is marshalling his forces. I could still feel it in my bones, Metatron speaking with the Voice. It is a fearsome spectacle to behold and not one that many mortals can resist. Metatron commands the Voice of the Lord and with it, has absolute authority over the Angels. No mortal can resist following that, no matter how much of a non-believer he is. You, however, have been sent here immune to the Voice. The Shadows heed no Angel's words." The Fallen rose, beginning to walk towards the escalators out of the station. He beckoned to the Spiteful. "Come, I've a task for you. Let us walk."[/DASH][/DASH]
 
ALEXANDREWHITE
<hr>
Alex noticed David chuckle. It was probably his partner laughing at one of his own jokes. He did that quite often, more so during cases that are grave than others. He shook his head when David brought up his fist to his mouth and coughed. Had he not known better, he would've sworn that David was trying to chase the young woman right out of the precinct. He didn't approve of intimidating the young woman, or anyone but the most terrible, hardened criminals, but it had never failed to work before. It was solely for that reason that he let David get away with it. He did not know whether it was fortunate or unfortunate that the good cop bad cop routine was so natural to the two of them. Regardless, it was their chemistry that had helped elicit a number of confessions from some high-profile cases.

He managed to have the decency to smile when David emerged from the shadows into the light. Typical of him, he noted. Despite being gruff as he was, the man always had the flair for the dramatic... Even if it was the dramatically intimidating. He repressed a snicker when David pulled out a chair with his foot. Now that was something out of the ordinary. The grimace on David's face when he did that was priceless.

The smile slipped off of Alex's face the moment David swept the documents aside. "Oi! I was looking through those!" he exclaimed. He knew it was in vain, David wouldn't stoop to the level of a grunt. Unfortunately for him, Alex was very picky in how his evidence was arranged and would not let any of the freshies on the force anywhere near his desk. He sighed. He would have to reorganize everything before they left for the day, no matter how late at night that might be.

He smiled, clearly amused at David's antics, after getting past the desecration of his workplace. If anyone on the force came close to depicting how movies made interrogation scenes, it would be David. Despite the gravity of the situation, it was an amusing sight, the interrogator lounging in his chair and observing the interrogated with an unbreaking gaze. "She certainly seems quite interested in his Journal. I wonder if she's trying to get rid of any damning evidence." Alex shook his head. David's cynicism was clearly getting to him.

"Can you also tell us more about Dr. Moore's attitude and actions prior to his death?" asked Alex, smiling pleasantly at her, a stark contrast to David's sterner countenance. He was the guy who would ask his questions and take the answers given him, with a grain of salt of course and a note to investigate further. David was the guy who would look at you as though you were guilty of the crime and press you for all the information you had to give.

How they were friends, Alex did not know. "Good cop, bad cop we are indeed..." he mused to himself.
 
As they walked, Pavlana didn't ever look right at the angel. She supposed it was because of the traditions of the time she was raised in. Back then, one never looked a messenger of God in the eye. It was naturally seen as rude for a woman to look anyone in the eye ever. Therefore, it was only natural for Pavlana to look at other things such as the birds that fed or squirrels that ran around the trees like they were following stripes on a candy cane.

With a light chuckle, Pavlana answered his first question. Hopefully they could do this with tact and not cause any problems for each other. "I'm here for a book tour, but I believe our Father has something much more in store for me," she said as she sighed. "Whatever His will shall be, I will obey. At the moment, He asks that I love the multitudes, a difficult task, no?"

She waited a little while to answer his next question. Pavlana gazed at the park as they strolled past the humans as they went about their lives in an oblivion. There were often times that she envied the humans. They were given the gift of death and of a sort of ignorance given to a child. Only a few in this day knew that the End was drawing near. A spiritual war was going on around them and they had no idea of it.

"I'm much too old to still be rebelling against God. I learned long ago that like the humans, we made ourselves the imperfect creation. We were made in God's image and we defected much quicker than the humans," Pavlana said as she ran her fingers over her pendant on her neck. "What everyone called a failure was actually a success. Elyon knew what he was doing all along," she said with a smile. "It would be foolish to believe otherwise."
 
Leon the Spiteful

Leon's smirk vanished and he bowed his head quickly. "My apologies. I'm used to mortals assuming all sorts of things, and admittedly, I enjoy playing with them. Especially the devout ones..."

His body visibly de-tensed at the assurance that he would not be taken back to Hell, but his serious expression remained. It was an entirely appropriate response to the Fallen's news. "Rallying forces? What for...?" He shook his head, dropping his gaze to the ground before him. He felt a pang of sadness for the humans, as they had no way of resisting YHWH's call. He himself had been a "non-believer" and knew all too well the ramifications of such. Even if it was against his best interests, he decided he would help them defy the machinations of Heaven.

His dark eyebrows raised, brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. "A task?"

Leon stood and caught up to his companion with ease; enhanced speed was such a delightful perk. "A war against Heaven... I suppose this means we'll be fighting Angels, then?" He leaned an arm on the escalator railing, brow furrowed in thought. "How do we... do that, exactly?" He had never associated with celestial beings before; to his knowledge, he hadn't ever even encountered one. He was a relatively new Shadow, after all.

"I assume the Hand of Thoth knows about all of this." He couldn't help but smirk at the memory of his interaction with a Drakkan associated with the Hand earlier that night. He loved to push Drakkans' buttons, extremely curious to see one of them transform into a massive fire-breathing dragon. He had doubts they could even do that, though, as he had never seen it happen himself...
 
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he woman spoke with conviction. Before today he had never met anyone else like her. The beliefs she had made him uniquely interested in her. He had heard of beings such as herself who hated God with a searing passion to those who cared not. But she, she loved the creator and found that everything he made is perfect; even in its imperfection. Was she hoping that God would save her from the depths of hell if she carried out his mission? Or that eternal damnation could be reversed? Her ultimate fate changed? The angel had many questions but only so much time.

A long and pregnant pause passed. The sound of giggling children, conversations, chirping birds, and barking dogs were part of the ambience. A gentle breeze swept across their path and gently nudged the blades of grass to-and-fro.

He quickened his pace and stepped in front of her, gradually coming to a halt. Turning around to face her, he gazed upon her pendant for but a second, then turned his gaze in an attempt to meet hers. The cold-blue irises of his eyes were the exact opposite of hers, a fiery crimson. He parted his lips and began to say, "Tell me-" The two never introduced, but of course, this was not an issue for a messenger of the highest. "Pavlana." Unblinking, he continued, "Pavlana Lilit. Tell me. Might you know the whereabouts of the Hand of Thoth? Here in Vancouver, that is."

He stepped forward to close the gap between them. His body was close to hers, close enough to catch her scent and feel her breath on his neck.

With full scrutiny he examined her. A corner of his mouth curled up as he stepped back. True feeders, lycans, and the sort... they are all damned. Their bodies stronger and superior to their human counterparts; but in the end, they're all the same. Most of Cassius's brethren secretly took pity on their souls. He could not. Since time began he had fought for his father's approval and love. So why should he hold sympathy for those who willingly disobeyed him? They deserved to be ruled with severe subjectivism.[/bg]
 
Jillian Aiya

Well, so much for getting off easy. Frowning slightly, Jillian slid into the seat that the older detective had toed out for her. She clutched her purse, back rigid while the files and papers were moved about. It didn't matter that she hadn't done anything wrong in regards to Vincent's death, she was nervous to be questioned like this. She really didn't do well under pressure.

The younger detective's shout of dismay injected a little bit of levity, her lips quirking up in a half-smile before the older man was bearing down on her with a photograph. She looked at it carefully. It was familiar. She shook her head slowly, looking back up into his face; the smell of smoke really was overwhelming. "This is from my email. I wasn't the one at Stonehenge, Detective. Vincent was there not long ago doing research." Jillian set her purse on the desk and leaned forward, pulling the picture closer. "Vincent called them sigils. This is Hebrew, here. Unheard of for this region."

The younger man drew her attention away from the photo on the desk and she looked up. He really was handsome, like he stepped off the page of some magazine with his suit and thick tawny hair. Pretty eyes, too. She glanced away quickly, embarrassed for no good reason at letting her vision linger. His tone was almost conversational and helped to put her at ease. Jill relaxed back into the chair, politely averting her eyes.

"We communicated mostly through email, so I can't say much for his actions. He went to Ireland, and then to Salisbury Plain to the henge where he found that symbol." She spoke softly, nearly raising her hand to chew on a fingernail before stopping herself. Jillian shook her head slightly. "His attitude..." She trailed off thoughtfully.

She ran a hand back through her hair, exhaling a breath in a soft huff. "He was acting strange, honestly. Said he was having nightmares, and kept mentioning Dante's epic. I could never get him to tell me exactly what was troubling him, though. It seemed like Vincent was keeping things from me." Jillian sounded profoundly hurt at the thought.

She looked back up at the older detective; the younger man made her nervous. "Look, I'll answer anything and everything you ask of me as best I can, Mr...?" She trailed off, making it apparent that neither of them had yet introduced themselves. "Vincent was a dear friend of mine, and for him to be killed like this it-" her voice cracked, the moment of strength sapped away by thoughts of her mentor lying lifeless on his desk. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment against the threatening tears. "I'm sorry." Jill mumbled.
 
David Stark​
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Detective, Chicago P.D. Mage of the Judaic Kabbal.​






I peered out of the corner of my eye at Alex and I noticed that he was smiling. With a hand shading most of my mouth while casting the rest into shadow from the light I allowed myself a private, secret smile, too. Anyone who had seen him interrogate criminals or suspects before had noted that his style was very similar to the bad cops in the movies - in fact, I played out the trope entirely. I always heard snippets of these during break times and all that, though people shut up once they saw that I had arrived. I wouldn't ever let them know that I was a big fan of the hard-boiled police detective shows and in a way, it had added on to following in my father's footsteps in my ambition to become a cop. Furthermore, the idea of such harsh interrogation had been imprinted in the minds of most civilians by the media, and they have seen even the most hardened criminals on television break under this pressure. It would only add to the fragility of their psyche. That's what I told myself, so I could feel scientific instead of feeling like some teenage who spent his days cooped up watching detectives in trench coats toting revolvers track down criminals.

Satisfied with the question Alex had asked, I nodded in approval towards the woman, just in case she thought that she was only supposed to talk to me. I had dived right into the case, right into the very heart of the matter that revolved around these sigils - if the girl knew anything about them it would save me a lot of work with a dusty tome that served as a dictionary. Alex would push the case on the official front forward, this way, while I made progress down the more obscure path - perhaps the more important one.

I raised the both of my eyebrows and faked like I had just learnt something new when Jillian anwered. Alright. So she knew that they were called sigils, but it seemed as if she didn't know anything more about them. If she was faking it, it'd make her a really, really good actor. Dante's epic? Woah. I've read that. Skimmed through it, actually. Well, skimmed through the first page. And the overview at the back. I turned my head to look at Alex and raised a meaningful eyebrow to him, picking up a pen and a small piece of paper from the table and quickly scribbled down "Dante's Epic?" just in case it would happen to slip my mind later on.

"Stark," I said in reply to her open-ended sentence with a clipped tone, my face having returned to its previous impassive state. I ran a hand through my hair when the girl started to look as if she was about to cry. I never learnt how to deal with crying women, and I'm not sure with Alex knew how to, too, seeing as he batted for the other team. Maybe it was about the same. I don't know. I waited for her to recover - well, not too long, just gave her a few seconds to herself before I asked her another question. "So you think it was a murder, then?"
 
ALEXANDREWHITE
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"What else did he tell you? Did he mention anything strange in the days before his death?" asked Alex. He had already read the e-mail correspondence between the two, but he wanted to double check if Jillian was being completely honest. Besides, if the two had met in a public place recently, there would probably be record of it, but that wasn't something that was as easily tracked down as e-mails. She did know that they were called Sigils, and he had caught what David was trying to do. The way she phrased it, however, made him doubt whether she knew exactly what they were and how they functioned in the world of the Shadows.

He noticed the upward glance and the shy aversion of her gaze. He almost rolled his eyes then and there. Why did David have to always be right about such things? Regardless, he could tell she definitely found him attractive. The feeling wasn't reciprocated, but he thought maybe he could use it to get more information out of her. It went against most of his instincts, but should it come to that, he would not hesitate. Billions of lives were probably at risk, and if worming his way into a girl's heart -- the thought made him shudder -- would help save those billions, he would do it.

She was obviously nervous. Her discomfort was palpable in the way she spoke and the way she projected herself. If anything, Alex's presence just seemed to agitate her even more for some obscure reason. What she said next caught his attention. Dante's epic. The only Dante he could think about at the moment was Dante Alighieri. The Divina Commedia had been mentioned in Vincent's last journal entry, right before he was killed, and the word Dan-- was left unfinished. Could he have been attempting to write Dante?

"Tell me, Ms. Aiya, does this Dante happen to be Dante Alighieri and the epic he mentioned was the Divina Commedia? When and where did he disclose this?" Alex put the folder containing the e-mail correspondence between Jillian and Vincent in front of her. "This folder contains the emails you've sent to each other in the past six months. I saw no mention of an epic in them." He looked at her expectantly, careful to not betray any excitement over what could possibly be a new lead, at least for the Shadows.

David's question was a good one, too. However, Alex thought it was pretty obvious already from what information they had disclosed that Dr. Moore had not died by his own hand. He hoped to get to the bottom of the mystery already, but he feared finding that what he had suspected would turn out to be true. Though he wanted the crime solved, he did not know if he wanted his suspicions of a brewing war confirmed.
 
Pavlana kept her eyes low until he said her true name. Being as old as she was meant she went by millions of names over the years. It was odd to hear her name coming from another creature almost like herself. She almost blushed as he got closer; she still wasn't used to the culture of the present. The humans of the present were much too vulgar and liberal in their relations. Such a behavior in the past would get them all executed by stoning according to the Law of Moses.

Smiling, Pavlana stopped a child running by and knelt down beside the young lad. "Hello, child. What might your name be?"

"Nicholas."

"Well, Nicholas, you see that girl right over there," she said, pointing to the small girl. He nodded and frowned at her slightly. "She could use a friend. I think she'd like it if you went and asked her to join you over in the playground. I think she needs a friend." She said to the boy before he nodded and ran off to ask her. The pair started playing as if they'd known each other for over two thousand years. Smiling, Pavlana turned her attention back to the angel and dipped her head.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I cannot help you with that. I know the Hand of Thoth is near, but I can't tell you it's exact location. I can only tell you that I can smell it somehow," she said as she shifted on her feet and checked the time on her phone. "I'm supposed to be at a book signing in about an hour give or take. Would you like to walk there with me? It's not too far," she smiled as she looked around. "Unless you're being called to do Our Father's work. I wouldn't want to impose."
 
Jillian Aiya

Jillian nodded once before opening her eyes. "Right. Detective Stark." She turned her attention briefly to the younger man, nodding to him as well. "And Detective White, right? Stark white, easy enough to remember." Detective Stark's question brought about a sudden change in her expression, surprised anger flashing briefly across her delicate features. Of course Vincent was murdered! He would never... She stared at the older detective, about to open her mouth and actually say something stupid when Detective White spoke.

Swallowing her indignation, Jill set her mind back on task. She snuck another glace up at the handsome younger detective and found that the more she did, the more used to him she became. She began to relax a bit, despite the grilling the two were giving her.

"Yes, that's right. Dante Alighieri's Divina Commedia." She spoke softly, resting her hands on the folder he slip in front of her. She remembered their correspondence; Jillian felt no need to go back through and reread old emails. She nodded and looked back up, glancing between the two men. "No, I don't think we ever did mention it in the emails. I met Vincent for coffee a couple of weeks ago. That's when he mentioned it, and his nightmares." She shook her head, her vision falling to her folded hands. "I didn't think it was any big deal, although he seemed really troubled by his dreams. He wouldn't tell me what they were about, though."

"Look, I want to help you guys. I want to find whoever did this and make sure they're dealt with properly. I have a funny feeling that all of this weird occult stuff- the circles and sigils and writing and things- had to have played some part in all this." Jill looked at them, something like desperation in her eyes pleading silently with White and Stark. "I'm not so crazy as to think that something ridiculous like demons or whatever killed him. But you know the times we live in... religious extremists will do anything to make it seem like they're in the right." She winced, wishing she could take back the words immediately. "No offense meant, if you guys practice." she mumbled.

Jillian continued on quickly, "I want to offer my services. I'm a languages specialist and... and it seems like we're running into a lot of them so far." She groaned inwardly. Sounding that desperate, they were bound to shoot her down without a second thought.
 
[DASH=#FFDC50]
GM POST
<hr>
The Fallen began to walk in the cool night air. He beckoned to the Spiteful to follow him. He knew where they were heading, and it was a vital part to the task he was about to give the vampire.

"A war against Heaven indeed..." said the Fallen almost sadly. The heavens had after all been his home for eons prior to the Rebellion. It was a beautiful place, but regrettably marred by an unsightly ruler. He would be sad to see it come to ruin. Then again, should they fail, everything would come to ruin. Even Heaven wasn't too large a price to pay to save the humans. Their intellect was their ultimate downfall, but it was also their saving grace. They had created things far beyond the imagination of the Celestials. It was this, unfortunately, that made Heaven want them as slaves even more.

"We will... Towards the end, Hell will join you. However, my dear friend, for now the fight is in the hands of you mortals" said the Fallen, weariness palpable on his melodious voice. He pondered Leon's question. It was a good one. How did one fight a war with immortals on both sides? It would simply never end. Until they found a way to make that which is immortal, mortal, there would be no end to the battle that has raged for millennia. He turned to Leon, looking the Spiteful in the eye for the first time, "We will fight until our bodies die, and then we rest, and then we rise to fight again."

He did not like bending the truth, but he suspected the Spiteful was intelligent enough to figure that out before long. "The Hand? Know of our world?" the Fallen scoffed. "They would rather cut off their manhoods and their hands and their feet first before believing in the existence of our world. The chairmen are certainly staunch atheists, but there are officers of the Hand that know of our existence, however, the situation is known only to precious few amongst the resistance groups. It will come to light soon enough. There are two people hard at work, leading a team that will make sure of that."

"That is where you come in. These two are detectives, Det. David Stark and Det. Alexandre White. They are part of our world too, but there is one person central to the investigation that needs protection, Jillian Aiya. The information she knows is vital, and while we can afford to lose her, for the upcoming battle, we will need all the help we can get. You have contacts in the Hand. Get them to offer protection for the girl. If need be, protect her yourself. Whatever the case, keep her alive for as long as you can."

The Fallen smiled grimly. "May fortune smile upon you, Leon."

"I must go now, but before I do, I must ask. Have you ever read the Abarat, by Clive Barker? There is a poem there that I think you should see." The Fallen cleared his throat before intoning:

After a battle lasting many ages,
The Devil won,
And said to God
(who had been his Maker):
"Lord,
We are about to witness the unmaking of Creation
By my hand.
I would not wish you
to think me cruel,
So I beg you, take three things
From this world before I destroy it.
Three things, and then the rest will be
wiped away."

God thought for a little time.
And at last He said:
"No, there is nothing."
The Devil was surprised.
"Not even you, Lord?' he said."
And God said:
"No. Not even me."​

"That is the kind of God that humanity needs. That is the kind of Father we Celestials yearn for. Unfortunately, that is not the kind of Lord we have. If he was faced with that same situation, he would answer without a second thought 'Me, save me.' Please, do not fail us, do not fail humanity" whispered the Fallen before walking away faster than the eye could see, vanishing with a loud crack and a flash of light.

They had stopped right in front of the Vancouver Police Station.
[/DASH]
 
Leon the Spiteful

Leon listened to the Fallen's words carefully, walking quietly along. It was rather uncharacteristic of him to be so respectful, however, in the presence of someone that knew what he had been through on an unimaginably deeper level than he himself, he felt respect was due.

He was so enthralled with his companion's words that he wasn't paying attention to where they were going; before he had a chance to speak, the Fallen disappeared. He blinked, seemingly returning to reality, eyes wandering the face of the building before him. "A bodyguard, hm? This should prove most entertaining." He mumbled under his breath, a smirk spreading across his lips.

He strolled into the police station, waltzing up to the reception desk and peering through the plexiglass. The waiting room, the reception desk, both currently vacant. It appeared the door could only be opened with the swipe of a badge, judging by the sensor situated next to it. He sat down, left leg bouncing restlessly, glancing up at the clock on the wall. After five minutes and not a soul to be seen, he wandered back outside, intent on getting into the station as quickly as possible.

As if fate decreed it, two blocks down from the station stood a rotund, middle-aged police officer surveying the area. He seemed like a pleasant fellow, his gray eyes warm, his bushy mustache speckled with white, his stance relaxed and non-confrontational.

Leon walked up to him, promptly flipping him the bird. "OY! FUCK THE POLICE!!!"

The police officer stood frozen in place, mouth slightly agape, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. "E-Excuse me?!"

Leon growled. "You heard me-" he peered at the officer's name tag, "Lamb! I have no respect for authority! You should really throw me in the slammer!!!"

Office Lamb shifted uncomfortably. "Now, sir-"

"What kind of sissy-ass name is "Lamb", anyway?! BAAAH, BAAAH!! You're nothing but a sheep, LAMB!"

"Sir, please keep your voice down. It's very late!"

Leon blinked, perplexed. "Aren't you going to cuff me?"

The police officer was baffled. "But you... I..."

Leon gave an exasperated sigh. "Alright fine, but just remember, we could've done this the easy way..." His fist collided with the man's jaw, sending him crashing down to the pavement.

Officer Lamb brought a hand up to his swollen jaw, stunned. He slowly returned to his feet, eyes blazing with rage.

Leon held out his hands, palms out, with a grin. "Shall we go to jail, then?"

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Five minutes later, Leon slumped languidly in a chair in the processing area of the precinct, handcuffs securely fastened around his wrists, a wickedly triumphant smirk implanted on his lips. As he was being led through the station by an irate Officer Lamb, his eyes darted across the interior, easily locating the office designated to the detectives the Fallen had mentioned. Lucky for him, he was currently sitting in the perfect position to glimpse the office's door, through a window with the blinds drawn all the way up.

Officer Lamb pointed at him from outside the closed processing room door, angrily recounting the story to an unfortunate audience. Leon caught his gaze, winking merrily.
 
David Stark​
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Detective, Chicago P.D. Mage of the Judaic Kabbal.​






"Murder, huh? Now, what gave you that idea, Ms. Aiya?" I said, pressing that line of questioning further. It was unorthodox, but for now it seemed effective. If the girl was distracted by two lines of questioning at the same time, if ever she was lying, it would become harder and harder for her to keep up the act... However much I doubted it was an act. Still, one could never know. Oh, I saw that flash of anger cross your eyes, Ms. Aiya. If anything, it proved that she was sincere, though there was still that nagging voice in the back of my mind that told me to take everything with a grain of salt. After all, many of those detective series had showcased characters so well-versed in lying not even the investigators were able to get anything of use from them, much less find that they were lying.

That being said, I realize that most of the criminals were well-versed in lying. Agh. David, get a hold of yourself, now is not the time to get distracted. So they'd met recently... For coffee too. I wonder if there's anything more to the relationship between the two. If there was anything, the emails certainly did not indicate it.

At the very least, she suspected that the world of Shadows was lurking there. Then again, I couldn't say for sure whether she just saw them as a mark of a deranged killer or as actual evidence for the arcane. Desperation. Yes, that was another indication of sincerity. She was right to despair. If things didn't work out, everything will go to shit.

Did she just say "If you guys practice?" I tried to stifle a laugh, but I could not restrain myself. I burst out with a chuckle, gruff as it was. "Ms. Aiya, I believe the last person you'll ever see in a church is me." Hell, I thought, you won't even see me anywhere near a synagogue. If anything, those blasted extremists were a thorn in my side. This investigation was getting slowed down by the right just because they're calling Moore out as a heathen and deserved his death. Of course, there was a lot of outrage against that, but they were doing what they can to, instead of exposing Moore's killer, expose him as an atheist and part of the Hand.

The girl had offered her services and if she was good at her languages, she would definitely be able to decode the sigils faster than me. I signaled Alex aside, leaned in and whispered to him "I think we should let the girl help. It will take some time for me to decode the hebrew text. Hell, the war might be over before I finish, but a language specialist is the closest we'll get to an actual Rabbi right now. If we agree, though, she's going to need protection."

 
Adaline Taylor
Merged with the Familiar Spirit Mariangela
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Adaline rushed into the the police station and smiled at the woman at the desk in police uniform. "Hi Adaline. How can I help you?" She asked and turned in her chair to face her.
"Um... yes, I am here to get an update on the case regarding the murder of my husband and son." Adaline muttered softly, looking curiously through the station. The woman looked at her with a sad look."You know we are trying to find who did it." She said softly. Adaline sighed and accepted none of the woman's kindness. "Is that why that monster is still out there and their case is gathering dust?" The woman winced at the remark and sighed with defeat. Moments later, she was led to the archives section of the station and was sitting at a table, thumbing through paperwork. The case was still undergoing, but it wasn't being pursued as she would have hoped by the police. They deemed it as a homicide and threw it in the pile with the other homicides of the city, which was pretty extensive.
She felt her cheeks become damp with tears as she flipped through the pages. Images scattered in her mind as if she was awake in a horrible nightmare. Blood everywhere, burnt symbols, angels.... She shook her head, rubbing her temples to clear the images. Her husband had been a police officer himself, so when the station through his case with the others, she was taken aback. He was friends with these people and none of them even cared.
She knew he was dealing with a case similar to this and had stumbled upon something huge before she found his body.... their bodies. He never let her in about it though. She looked through all his notes and files and found nothing and here she was, looking again at the same stuff, with nothing new.
She sighed and dug her hands in her hair in frustration.

"Look closer into the symbol." Something whispered in her head. It was almost like it was her own thought and before she could think, she reach through the folder and dug out a photo of the symbol that laid under her husband. Her hand snatched at it and gripped it. Adaline blinked, trying to compose herself, but her body was not within her control anymore. "This has your answer." The voice said to her. And as quickly as it came, Adaline was back inside herself and dropped the picture she was clutching. She shook with confusion. "What's happening to me?" She muttered. She picked up the photo and shoved it in her pocket though and put the file back where it belonged.
 
ALEXANDREWHITE
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Alex nodded when Jillian mentioned his surname. "Alex, if you please, miss...?" he asked, wanting to be on a first name basis with Jillian. It was standard good cop routine, and should if anything, help establish a rapport that would make the person being interrogated comfortable. It seemed as though she knew a little more than she had so far let on. Anything that would give her a loose tongue would be put to good use. After all, this Jillian was the only lead they had on the case. He doubted they would be able to make a conviction, but the affairs of the case on the legal battlefield of the mortal world was not his business. The Shadow councils will make the conviction in its stead. There was far too little evidence for mundane eyes, but nearly enough in the eyes of the Shadows.

He could see it now, yes. The Divina Commedia was deeply entwined with what Dr. Moore had been working on. In fact, one of his dreams nearly described one of the circles of hell perfectly. "Where and when, exactly did the two of you meet? Perhaps we could visit the cafe and ask around" he said, smiling a tiny bit at Jillian. He noticed the tension in her body language lessen considerably. It was a promising sign. Hopefully they could get more useful information that could be used to make headway in the case.

Alex walked towards the pile of evidence that David had brusquely brushed aside and picked up one of the articles there. "Ms. Aiya, it is my belief that the Divina Commedia was a part of Dr. Moore's... obsession, right before he died. Perhaps this--" he began, setting down the journal(with a pair of gloves and tweezers, of course). "--might tell you exactly what he dreamt of in the weeks before his death."

It troubled him, now that he saw the connection. Dante's description of the ninth circle of hell nearly coincided with the description that Dr. Moore had put in his journal. There were other details too that could only have come from the Divina Commedia and until the weeks prior to his demise, there had been no indication that the professor even knew the smallest tidbit about the epic. "This is the clearest account of the dream he claims to have had repeatedly..." said Alex, donning gloves and pointing at a section of the page that was open in front of Jillian.

It said: "I have been having strange dreams recently, dreams of a dark place where the only light came from far in the distance and bitter winds whipped about relentlessly. The floor seemed to be made of ice and the one time I made the mistake of looking down, there seemed to be men and women contorted in various ways, forever entombed in their suffering."

"I happen to have read the Divina Commedia, and it seems that Dr. Moore found himself in Treachery, the deepest pit of Hell... The place where Lucifer is bound to the icy lake" said Alex., drawing the connection between the dream and the epic, in case Jillian had missed it.

At least she was still convinced it was not of the Shadows, thought Alex. However -- he regarded her for a moment -- she seemed like she would be able to handle it should it be revealed to her. Be that as it may, there were laws put in place against that. Only if it were proven that she was in peril would the green light go on to tell her about the Shadows. For now, however, she would be kept in the dark.

He saw David motion to him and went to convene with the gruff man. "I'm not comfortable with this, David... But it seems like we've no more choice. We have no time to lose..."

Dreading for Jillian's future, as well as the futures of everyone alive and dead, he turned to her. "Jillian, if you can help us, we would appreciate it."
 
Jillian Aiya

Jill glowered at Detective Stark, clenching her hands until the knuckles went white. She had had enough. "Well Detective," she spat, her whole body shaking and blinking rapidly to keep the tears from her eyes. She always cried when she get angry; it was embarrassing. "Given the fact that Vincent, my friend and colleague, was supposedly found in a pool of his own blood with no weapons anywhere near him, I would think it might be obvious it wasn't a suicide or some sort of freak accident. I would think if you did your job-" her voice broke, the tears threatening again. Damnit...damn idiot. Don't let him get to you like that.

She blinked the tears away once again, regretful of her outburst. It was a few moments before she spoke in response to Detective White's gentle question. "Alex... call me Jillian. Or Jill, whichever you prefer." She felt ashamed for getting angry like that, although she had a sneaking suspicion that that was the entire point. Stark's amusement over her polite cover of her gaffe did make her feel a bit better though. Jillian didn't hold any of it against him; this was his job, she supposed.

This line of thinking was cut short by Alex; She glanced up into his handsome features and managed to make herself not look away. "We met at a little cafe called The Grind, out near where Alex lives. Lived." She corrected. "This was...I think the Tuesday after he got back in town. Around 10 am, maybe?" Jill tried to recall all that she could. The time and date hadn't seemed important at the time, only what they had spoken about.

When Alex set the journal down before her, she stared at it reverently for a moment. Like Stark, she didn't bother with the gloves and tweezers and read along with Alex on the page he indicated. The account made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She reread it again quickly once more before casting her eyes back to the detective. "I don't understand. Vincent was an atheist. He didn't believe in heaven or hell, why would he dream of things like this? But it explains the sudden interest in the Divina Commedia. Or the other way 'round, maybe?" She spoke softly, almost to herself.

Stark pulled Alex a way for a moment after her offer of help and while the two men conferred she read back over the journal page and glanced at the photo of the sigil on the henge. There had to be something. But the pieces just weren't fitting together. This might be her only chance with the journal and she flipped through the pages, looking for anything that might be of use. Her time doing so was short-lived, however. Alex turned back to Jillian and spoke words the woman had to let sink in in order to believe she had heard correctly. Jill nodded, shocked. "Of course."

Relief washed over Jillian; she had a job to do now. A purpose, a task, a set goal. Standing now, more confidence in her movements than there had been previously, she turned the photo to face the men. "Alright, first thing is the Hebrew on the henge. It says-" She spoke a phrase in beautiful, rhythmic Hebrew. "-Which translates as: 'To feed the seven seals, to make that which is immortal mortal, to empower the kingdom and the crown.' Does that have any significance to anything else in the investigation?" She paused, tapping a finger against her lips. Her dark eyes were sharp when she looked at the pair of detectives.

"Is it true that Vincent was found in a circle like this one? It might be useful to see that as well." Jill inclined her head politely. "And thank you both... for trusting me enough t let me help. Is there anything else you need to tell me so that I can do my job for you?" A small smile crossed her lips, lighting up her face prettily. She was emotionally exhausted, but there was no way she was going to let this opportunity slip by.
 
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s Pavlana knelt down and spoke to the small boy, Cassius looked on with confliction. There was innocence in the child, yet the angel knew that that innocence in the boy will someday be forgotten. His brows furrowed as the thought crossed his mind. Somehow, though, unbeknownst to him, he felt the strangeness of feeling empathy for the child. Unblinking, he watched Nicholas playfully take off toward his new potential playmate in the distance.

Returning his gaze to her, he answered, "Unless your book signing is near the local police department, I'm afraid that we must go our separate ways, Pavalana." Though he did not know what he was looking for specifically at the station, he had been instructed to do so.

He looked past Pavalana's shoulder and noticed that the boy from earlier had caught up with the little girl. The two were giggling, laughing and so full of life. Something about observing their oblivion to the world around them caused him to flinch in the slightest way noticeable. The pain from before shocked his mortal body once again; a visible grimmace on his face for but a mere second. Then, nothing, and just as he returned his attention to the two children, they were gone. Whatever was ailing his mortal body was a mystery. He had only taken on mortal form a few times over the eons, but this was something that had never happened previously.[/bg]
 
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