Dwindling Glory - Lament of the Fallen IC

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Leon the Spiteful

With Alex leading the way through the foyer, Leon fell into step behind Jillian, taking care to keep her between both he and the detective lest they were ambushed. By whom (or what), he hadn't the slightest, butbetter safe than sorry... Or eaten, or mangled, or maimed, or beheaded-

The Spiteful blinked, refocusing on the task at hand. Taking a deep, silent breath, he slowly exhaled, extending his consciousness by way of his enhanced senses. The tiny hairs on his arms, though undetectable from afar, stood on end; he could feel the stale, arid air as if it were solid, brushing against his skin like jelly encased in plastic. He could, quite literally, hear a pin drop.

In his hyper-aware state, he glanced at the detective's back, a grimace darkening his features; he sensed the werelion's despair, feeling it himself momentarily. What happened to you, White?

As they made their way up the creaky steps, a smirk formed at the vampire's ashen lips upon hearing Alex's warning. "I should be saying that to you, Detective." His voice softened as he continued, concern coloring the words, "Be on your guard, White. We have no idea what's in this house."

The tang of copper invaded Leon's senses; they had reached the study. A low, hungry growl tore from his throat in response; he quickly coughed to cut it short, chuckling. "Ahem, pardon me." He shot Jillian a sheepish, apologetic grin. He moved to the side to give her room to investigate the sigil, eyes snapping up just as the book fell from the shelf. At once, he was at the detective's side, reading the highlighted words. Before he could agree with the man's apt assessment, he sensed a fourth presence in the room with them.

Melting-chocolate eyes narrowed into a predator's gaze, darting past Jillian, attempting to locate the intruder. He choked back a short gasp, barking out suddenly, "Jillian, get over here now!"

She was standing in the middle of the sigil.
 
Jillian Aiya

"Vincent."

The name left her lips in a whisper as she stood wide-eyed amidst the gore and arcane symbols burned into the wood of the study. Jillian had been kneeling among them, beginning to identify them and sort out where the language started when the heavy thump of a falling book shook her from her train of thought. Fear overwhelmed her senses and despite the words of Alex and Leon, she was glued to the spot; and then the spirit spoke her name.

"Is it really you? Of course I would come, I couldn't.." Jillian stopped abruptly, her throat tight with emotion at seeing the ghostly face of her mentor there in the same study where he had been murdered. Blinking the tears from her eyes and taking a steadying breath, she continued. "What happened here? What language is this, doctor? And," she paused again, not knowing if this might be a touchy subject for ghosts, "Who killed you?"

Jillian looked around and through the form of Vincent Moore, trying to look reassuring to both Leon and Alex. Their expressions struck her, and she glanced from them to Vincent as if trying to show them just how amazing the situation was. Their faces remained confused and frightened and it was with a deep sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she realized at last.

They couldn't see Vincent. She looked crazy, talking to herself.

But if it got her answers, Jillian didn't much care.
 
ALEXANDRE WHITE
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Ethereal eyes crinkled, and lines on an old weary face deepened in one of the first smiles that Vincent had smiled in a long time. "I've been worried about you" Moore said, softly. The old man had very few attachments in his life, and after his wife had died the few bonds he'd made had become extremely important to him. He stepped over the book, ruffling the pages in the spectral wind that followed in his wake. Alex shivered, feeling cold wherever Moore's immaterial form brushed against his body.

"I have tried to make myself seen to many people... but I guess only the people I bonded with in life can be aware of my presence..." he whispered, sadly. Alex straightened himself up, carefully holding the book in his hand. His eyes were darting about, searching for anything that could've compromised their security. Vincent continued walking towards Jillian in the middle of the room.

"Jillian. Get out of the sigil. Please. We have no idea what it can do!" Alex was pleading. Eyes still darting uncertainly from Jillian to the door and back. "Leon." The glance he shot the Spiteful carried a clear message. They would both try to strong-arm her out of the sigil. The possibility that they were in mortal danger was sparking Alex's transformation and already, he had whiskers, the beginnings of a mane and a tail straining against the fabric of his pants.

Alex's sharp ears picked up the faint sound of an altercation happening outside. It ended quickly, and Alex did not know whether to be relieved or to swing into full-on survival mode. Moore paid them no attention and still drifted towards Jillian, a determined expression on his face. "It doesn't matter. You're here now." Moore took one step -- or at least tried to -- and his foot connected with the border of the sigil. A flash of greenish-blue light filled the room, illuminating the man's ghostly form for a split second, making him visible to both Leon and Alex for as long as the light lasted.

"He's here..." Alex whispered, eyebrows knotted and beginning to thicken. So they weren't in any immediate danger if it was only Moore's Wraith. He still couldn't get rid of the sinking feeling in his stomach. There was a strange smell in the air, masked almost completely by the metalling tang of dried blood in the room. Alex couldn't quite put a finger on what the smell was.

Moore looked at Jillian with a morose expression. "The symbol on the floor is keeping me out... I would hug you my dear, but it seems I cannot. Barachiel was wise enough to burn foreign dirt into the symbol... It seems to me that the sigil does not have any magical properties of its own, however, and only serves to keep me away from something I needed. Something the detectives needed."

"It is in Bengali. And I believe, it is a taunt... a challenge. I had just died, and my spirit was hovering, watching the scene as Barachiel burnt the symbol into the floor. I know what it means. I heard Metatron as he said the words to Barachiel."

"It says --"

Alex's ears -- which had grown pointed within the last few moments -- perked up. He knew what the smell was and his eyes were wide with alarm. A look which Leon probably mirrored.

"-- Burn in the fires of my judgment, daughter of woe, brother of vengeance and lover of heresy."

It was kerosene.
 
Leon the Spiteful


With every ounce of his concentration focused on each of his enhanced senses, Leon processed the situation at a breakneck pace; the drawback of this, however, was that his brain could only interpret the information one sense at a time. He marked the room’s significant drop in temperature, the change demanding his attention as it was the most immediate threat. Unlike Alex, he welcomed the cold as if it were a refreshing breeze on a hot summer’s day.

He felt the spectral presence moving towards Jillian, eyes shooting up to meet Alex’s, acknowledging the detective’s silent command with a quick nod. He braced himself, ready to sprint towards Jillian and remove her from the sigil, when a sudden spark of light erupted, revealing the faint figure of an older, weary-looking man.

Moore. The Spiteful instantly made the connection, rigid posture easing slightly, shifting his attention to the noises he had heard outside the room moments before. He debated if he should investigate, deciding against it so as not to announce their presence to whatever may lie beyond the door.

He leaned his head back and inhaled deeply. The overwhelming smell of old copper made it very difficult to notice anything else at first. He identified each scent one after the next: blood, feline, human, vampire, paper, ash, wood, paint, kerosene-

His breath caught in his throat, catching Alex’s gaze to simultaneously share the detective’s alarming realization.

Dashing forward, he hooked an arm around Jillian’s waist and pulled her to his chest. Turning about-face, he pivoted off the burned floor, slamming against Alex to push the transforming man towards the door. With one arm holding Jillian close to his body, the other reached up to grab the scruff of Alex’s neck, growling, “Time to go!”

Using all of his weight and strength, he pulled the two of them forward, swinging a leg in front of his body to kick the door clean off its hinges. He inwardly hoped it was enough force to knock down whatever might be standing in their path…
 
Jillian Aiya


It was as if everything else in the room shrank and became unimportant, merely a backdrop in which the ghostly form of Vincent Moore moved. She even managed to tune out both Alex and Leon, the shade holding the entirety of her attention.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry it took me this long to come. It was complicated. And even then I never expected-" Her voice trailed off, already barely a whisper as he came nearer. She held out her hands, ready to take his when the flash of eerie light lit the room as Vincent's foot contacted the sigil. Jillian gave a little jump of surprise, momentarily blinded.

Her heart broke for him; could he even embrace her? Would he still be there if she left the arcane circle that separated them? So far it seemed that his existence after his death had been so lonely that she wanted nothing more but to comfort her mentor. But he was going on, explaining in that easy way of his, and she drank in his every word in order to burn it into her memory.

Jillian couldn't believe what she was hearing- Barachiel, Metatron, real actual magic; at this time of day yesterday she wouldn't have believed in the least that this, any of this, could possibly be real. Vincent, in ghost form, was telling her that he had been murdered by an angel and cursed by the voice of God himself. The curse, the taunt as he said, stuck in her mind and raised chills along Jillian's arms.

"For goodness' sake Vincent... what you're telling me. I can't even..." Her hands were shaking and in what she hoped was before the ghost of her beloved mentor could see the tears welling in her eyes, she turned to the desk beside her. The top was still stained with blood like an irregular spot of dark lacquer on its polished surface but she tried not to look at that. The important item was within and when her hand fell upon the manilla folder in one of the drawers she could see Vincent nod in confirmation. "That's it, my dear. Take it, I think you will find it useful."

Jillian nodded solemnly, quiet for a moment before finding her voice once more. "Thank you, Vincent. For everything. I have your journal, and I just," The words did not come easily, her throat growing tight as her vision blurred with tears once more. "I always admired you. I couldn't have asked for a better mentor and... and I miss you, dear friend." In two strides, Jillian crossed and stepped outside of the sigil, wrapping her arms around the ghostly form of Vincent Moore as tears streamed down her cheeks. It was a cold sensation that took her breath away and set every hair on her body on edge, but she dare not pull away. She would not deny her friend this last comfort.

Opening her eyes, she could see Alex and Leon, both with panicked expressions on their faces, Alex seeming to be in the early stages of transformation to a werelion. Something was wrong., very very wrong.

Reluctantly, she released Vincent. "Be safe. I'll be back, ok?" Jillian tried to sound reassuring even though her stomach had suddenly become twisted with a feeling of dread. Before she even really had time to process what was happening, Leon his grabbed her tightly and held her close, moving her out of the sigil.

It all happened so fast. And she was pressed to sightly to Leon's body but still... gently. A flush crossed her cheeks and she had just enough time to see Vincent's surprised expression as he reached out before Leon dragged both herself and Alex out of the busted-down door of the study.
 
ALEXANDRE WHITE

To say that Alex was a bit disorientated would've been the understatement of the century. Everything happened so fast, that much of it blurred together in his memory. A few things stood out in his mind, though. First, Jillian was alright. Apparently the Sigil had not been meant to keep anyone in. Second, she had a suspicious envelope in her hand. It bugged Alex. How could they have missed it? Finally, he had not realized just how physically strong the lithe Spiteful was. Alexandre White was neither beefy nor was he the largest guy, but he was still pretty big compared to the Spiteful and it was a very rare sight to see a taller, broader man get dragged through a kicked-down doorway by the scruff of the neck.

Creak.

The crash of the door into the landing outside the study was resounding. The dull boom reverberated through the eerily silent house. Maybe it was the complete, utter silence of the house or the fact that the stench of kerosene was almost overpowering in the space, but at that moment, Leon faltered for a moment and Alex's transformation reached a dramatic crescendo. Despite the gravity of the situation, there was a low, irritated rumble from Alex's throat. That made two ruined attires in the space of two days and the were-lion was not happy with that.

Alex's hybrid form stood tall and graceful in its own right. A full golden mane and coat of fur covered him and a tail swished in the air behind him. He easily picked up Leon by the scruff of his neck and scooped Jillian up by the waist. Finding that carrying Leon in that manner was incredibly uncomfortable, he shifted his grip and carried him in much the same way as Jillian. He bounded down the stairs as fast as he could with Jillian and Leon in tow.

Creak.

About halfway down the stairs, a brilliant flash of light and a surge of celestial power flooded through the house. Alex craned his neck back to try and see what had happened, but saw nothing. Regardless to say, the sensation raised Alex's hackles and he made for the bottom of the stairs with renewed vigour. Alex shook the arm carrying Leon up and down, growling and mewling in frustration as he finally made it to the first floor landing. He was trying to get Leon to take Jillian and run, but in his current form, there was little he could do in the way of communicating that.

Creak.

Alex set Jillian down gently. There was a dull thud as Alex dropped Leon on the floor when all of a sudden the sound of soft applause drifted from the second floor landing.

Clap. There was a tall resplendent man up there. He was beautiful beyond words could describe and had Alex not been so thoroughly devoted to Jason, he would probably have been throwing himself at the man. Clap. The man's ageless face was framed with hair of a crimson-gold colour. And his eyes were of purest gold that seemed to radiate a light of their own. Clap. Behind him fanned three pairs of celestial wings that burned with sacred fire.

There was no mistaking him for anyone else. Before them stood the Judgment. Before them stood the Justice. Before them was the Wrath of God. Uriel. "If I were you, I would be praying and begging for forgiveness right now." A cruel smile twisted the corners of the Seraphim's lips.
 
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Jillian Aiya


So fast. Everything was moving so fast. Her heart was hammering and her head was spinning. So fast.

And through it all Jillian disconnectedly noticed the strangest things. The sudden absence of a chemical scent in the air punctuated that it was in the study to begin with. The way Alex was changing into his full were form, something shocking and unthinkable and seeming oddly to suit him. The way Leon had held her so protectively. A flash of light. The sound of clapping.

One of Alex's massive clawed hands had just set her delicately on her feet at the bottom of the stairs when she was aware of Leon being unceremoniously dropped. She might have laughed a bit at that, if not for the slow sound of clapping and the tension in Alex's leonine form. She looked up, unconsciously clutching the envelope to her chest as her eyes found the most beautiful man she had ever seen at the top of the stair.

He seemed to emit light such was his beauty, and Jillian could not help but feel drawn in by those golden eyes and long to trace her fingertips through the curls that just brushed his fine jaw. It was a moment or two before she looked past that and saw that it wasn't his handsome features casting the glow, but wings in three sets behind him illuminating the small landing and just brushing the walls though they were folded. This was an angel. A true, honest angel.

And he had come to kill them just like Moore had been murdered in this house.

A flare of anger welled in Jillian's chest despite the obvious power the winged figure held. Despite the honeyed voice that spoke them, the words were bitter poison and full of gloating. She clutched the envelope tighter, her knuckles white and beginning to wrinkle and bend the paper. She wanted to fight, to lash out at this celestial being of power for what he did and what he planned to do. And then she remembered that she was human and powerless. Jillian ground her teeth in frustration and to keep from saying anything that might put the three of them in an even worse position. She glanced from Alex's beastial form and then to Leon. Could either of them best an angel?

What had she gotten herself- and them- into?
 
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Leon the Spiteful

THUD! Leon grumbled inaudibly, standing up and rubbing the back of his neck. He turned back to Alex, about to curse at the detective for treating him like a sack of potatoes when he froze, mouth falling open and eyes widening. He had never seen a were-creature transform, though not for a lack of trying when it came to the Drakkan; he was always curious to see how pedestrians might react to a ten-foot-tall fire-breathing dragon-man, at the chagrin of his basic survival instincts.

Before he had a chance to make a single cat joke, the uncanny sound of clapping commanded his attention, his eyes whipping up to the top of the stairs. The creature slowly descending the stairs, with its gloriously shining wings, was unmistakably an angel. A low, primal growl erupted from his throat, and he immediately moved to stand directly in front of Jillian and next to Alex. So this is to what that Fallen had been referring...

Leon snorted at the angel's words, the marriage of a smirk and a scowl planted on his lips. "Forgiveness? For what, refusing to be a complacent sheep? No thanks, I would rather continue eating your precious little idiot followers." The Spiteful crossed his arms, giving the illusion of ease, though his muscles remained tense. "What the fuck do you want, bird brain?"

He hoped his stalling would buy Alex some time to grab Jillian and run. Unlike them, he was unliving, and could withstand a hefty amount of physical damage...
 
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ALEXANDRE WHITE

Yet again, Alex was tempted to smack -- literally -- some sense into Leon. Antagonizing the Seraphim was the last thing he wanted to do, yet the Spiteful was there rattling off his tongue. He couldn't blame the Spiteful for being angry, but Leon could at least show some restraint. The Seraphim simply smiled, looked Leon up and down and sniffed. Alex's eyebrows drew even closer than they already were. Beautiful as they were, he thought, Angels seemed like pretentious fucks. He was grateful that his speech was quite impaired in his in-between form as he had some choice words for Uriel that might've gotten them all smote out of existence.

"Oh, what I want doesn't concern you. But if you must know--" the Seraphim smiled yet again. This time it almost seemed genial if only the underlying malice wasn't so plainly visible. "--I want him." He pointed nonchalantly back towards the study and possibly the restless spirit within. Alex growled loudly. He knew how much the old man meant to Jillian and he knew that Vincent's help was much needed. What he didn't know was how to stop Uriel from doing what he wanted. As the low rumble of Alex's growl reverberated around the room, Uriel's hand moved like lightning, burning a sigil into the air and Alex's vision before he could even register it.

With a bright flash, the complex sigil went up in flames and a palpable amount of power rolled over the trio downstairs. At the exact same moment Vincent began screaming. "Ah, the wails of the damned. Such beautiful music." The screams were animalistic and guttural, the final dredges of the human instinct of self-preservation. It was a testament to a final and losing fight to avoid being dragged into the pit. When the screams faded, a resounding boom filled the entire house. It was as though two gigantic rocks had slammed together.

"Let this be a lesson. You will soon suffer a similar fate." The Seraphim walked down the stairs and stood toe-to-toe with Alex. Though the were-lion towered over him, the Seraphim showed no sign of being intimidated. "I had thought your faggot lover's death would've been lesson enough." Uriel's hand shot up and grabbed Alex by the jaw and brought him down so that their eyes met. Uriel's unearthly beauty was distracting Alex, but his conscious mind seized the pieces of what Uriel had said. "He defied me to the bitter end. But he still died."

A cruel smile twisted Uriel's lips as Alex's pupils dilated in anger. The roar of anger pain and grief that erupted from him was deafening, but Uriel was unfazed. Alex swung an arm, lost in bloodlust, to maul the angel. In a flash of light, Uriel reappeared at the top of the staircase. With another deafening roar, Alex leapt up to the steps, trying to get to Uriel as fast as he could. His nostrils were flaring and his chest was heaving. After two years, he finally knew who was to blame for Jason's death and he would die trying to avenge his beloved.

"Such strength. Such anger. Pity it's wasted on a fairy." Yet again, Uriel vanished before Alex could get to him and reappeared right next to Leon. "When you're done screaming once you are cast back into the pit, say hello to your little sister for me."

Before Leon could react, Uriel had reappeared behind Jillian. "Oh, and Ms. Aiya?" The Seraphim placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Burn"

The entire house leapt up in flames. With an arrogant smirk, Uriel faded from the Mortal world in a plume of fire.
 
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Jillian Aiya

Vincent's otherworldly screams rent the air with such force that Jillian felt staggered, her legs going weak and her face draining of color. Where before she had felt anger and a faint blazing hope that one of them could beat the angel she now only felt a gripping fear. They were going to die. In this realization came an odd sort of detachment as her ghostly mentor's wails were silenced with a boom.

The angel was using juvenile homophobic slurs to rile Alex and doing a very good job of it. The mention of a murdered lover was intriguing and she filed it away for later.

Later? We're going to die!

Next, he was beside Leon and mocking the Spiteful about being thrown back into the Pit. And with family, as well. A sister also in torment? Much of Leon was still a mystery, but his joy at being back in the world of the living was no secret. To be sent back after such a short taste of freedom was cruel.

Of course he's cruel! Just look at this bastard. Is this what angels are like?

"Oh, and Ms. Aiya?"

"No. Not all of us."

"Burn."

The voices seemed to run together in her mind, existing in dual states of panic and detached observation. They were not the same. One was without and one was within. And in a blink the glorious being who had condemned them was gone, replaced with heat and the smell of smoke and fuel. "Fire... the house is on fire!" She shouted to Leon and Alex, turning to the front door next to them in the foyer and wrenching the doorknob. As it turned, her hand was thrown from the cold brass forcefully, a sigil burning to life on the wood in front of her face. Jillian turned on her heel, her eyes wide and frightened as she looked to the Spiteful and the Werelion. "He's strapped us. We can't- we can't get out."

Her throat began to squeeze shut, but it was unclear whether the cause was emotion or the smoke that was rapidly filling the air. It was as if she were seeing everything from outside of her body, the crackle and roar of the blaze upstairs in the study where it had begun, the door she had touched setting off a chain reaction among the others, sigils burning brightly on each and every exit. Even the windows would be no use to them. They would burn if they didn't suffocate first, and then just like the angel had said, they would burn for an eternity more.

Once more, time seemed to slow to a crawl. Alex, anger and longing and desperation battling on his leonine features, was caught mid-leap from the landing where he had chased their executioner. Leon was frozen in the midst of throwing a heavy chair at one of the large windows in the sitting room. Jillian knew that it would bounce harmlessly off. They were trapped thoroughly.

"It certainly seems that way." The voice from earlier drawled. Jillian wondered if it was the smoke inhalation or maybe fumes that made the room seem to tilt, another view superimposed over the scene frozen in time before her. From the smoke, a figure was moving and for a moment Jillian thought that the angel from before had come back to torment her personally. But as he neared, she could see that this angel was different. He was still glorious, seeming to shine with his own light from within and with wide feathered wings folded behind him. Where the other was fair this one was dark, with short-cropped hair and piercing eyes. He was gorgeous, she couldn't help noticing in that same detached way she had taken in the scene above. As she thought it, the ghost of a smile crossed his lips. She immediately flushed.

He knows. He knows what I'm thinking. Who..?

"I am the Archangel Raziel. I'm here to help you Jillian." He paused, anger flickering in his eyes. "We're not all so callous about human suffering and eager for death as Uriel." He was near enough to touch now, towering above her and looking down into her face tenderly.

Then help us! Unseal the doors, please, the smoke... Raziel lifted a hand to quiet her rampant thoughts. "I can't just appear and wipe the seals from the doors, Jillian. A display of power like that could put me in a bad situation. I can't risk my position as it stands now to help you that way." He placed one large, soft hand upon her shoulder and looked down into her face with an expression of gentlest apology. "I am risking enough appearing to you just after Uriel has fled, but he is so certain of his victory here he would never even think to check back in."

Frustration overwhelmed Jillian, her eyes stinging while tears slid down her cheeks. Before she could even voice her protest, the angel was speaking and squeezing her shoulder. "But I can work through you, child. We can go over details later as the matter is rather pressing."

Yes... yes, whatever it takes. Jillian thought desperately. By all rights this angel should be an enemy, not someone to be trusted, but she was willing to take whatever help she could in order to see that Alex and Leon lived. They knew what was going on and how to help, and she could maybe be of use by offering herself up to the enemy for their sakes. Raziel was leaning in close, his hand coming to cup her face as a soft smile touched his features. "And this is why I feel your kind should be given a chance. So beautiful." Before a thought could even form in Jillian's mind at Raziel's knowledge of her intentions, the angel's lips met hers in the softest kiss.

A rush of noise flooded Jillian's hearing; the roar of an enraged lion, Leon's frustrated growl, the crackle of the fire raging and engulfing the house around them. The scene returned to vivid life around Jillian as she dropped to one knee in a fit of coughing. Her lips still tingled where he contact had happened, and though she was coughing it felt more take she had taken in a lungful of the purest air rather than the smoke that choked the foyer around them. As she gasped her breath, pulling the neck of her shirt up over her nose and mouth in order to get some protection knowledge blossomed behind her eyes as if she had literally been struck with it. She knew. She knew so much. But most important, she knew how to get out.

"Alex, Leon, hurry!" She cried out over the noise of the blaze, squinting to keep the smoke out of her eyes as she made her way to the same door that had repelled her earlier. Much as Uriel had done, she began to draw in the air with quick, precise movements. As she did, glowing phantom wings unfurled from her back, there but not there, her body taking on an angelic glow. The sealing sigil on the door faded into nothing but a burnt scar on the wood and when her hand fell to the handle, it swung open at the barest touch. Jillian stood, eyes wide and holding the door awkwardly as if she had not expected that to work at all.

Fast enough to make her head spin, they were out and gulping fresh air as sirens wailed nearer to the blaze. Overwhelming exhaustion crashed over Jillian then, although a small smile lit her soot-smudged face. It was Leon that she collapsed against, her body falling soft and pliable into his arms and the manilla folder still clutched in her hand.
 
Leon the Spiteful

Even with the aid of his supernatural abilities, Leon could not keep up with the Seraphim’s speed. The angel snuffed out the remnants of Vincent Moore’s presence before he could move a muscle.

The wraith’s primal wails washed over the Spiteful like a burning wave. Though he could not remember his time in Hell, the screams flooded his ears and mind, instantly transporting him back to the fiery prison. The vampire’s jaw fell slack, frozen in the memory of his agony.

A thunderous explosion snapped him back to reality, just in time to hear the angel’s horrible words directed at Alex. Rage swelled within Leon; he arched his back, posture poised to attack the unsuitably-named angel. This overgrown chicken will pay-

The angel’s impossibly-handsome face blinked into existence inches from his, halting his thought. “… say hello to your little sister for me.”

Sister…?

The angel disappeared again, but his words left Leon spellbound. One single word in particular floated just beyond his comprehension, eliciting snippets of memories he hadn’t known he’d forgotten. Wisps of black hair against the blinding sun; salty ocean air; an infectious laugh…

Though his mind was preoccupied, his eyes were trained on Jillian as the angel reappeared behind her. Abandoning the sudden nostalgia, he rushed to her side just as the celestial being disappeared once more. Smoke and fire filled his nostrils as the house erupted, first upstairs, then all around them. An animalistic growl ripped from his throat, his survival instincts kicking in, eyes swiftly taking in every possible escape route. He grabbed a solid wooden chair and smashed it against the nearest window, but to no avail; the energy of the sigil barring its destruction crackled like derisive laughter.

Sharp ears picked up Jillian’s voice through the conflagration. He watched in disbelief as she created a sigil of her own. A light seemed to emanate from her, and what appeared to be massive wings burst forth, blinking in and out of existence.

What the FU-

The front door flung open; he barked at Alex to move. Dashing towards the exit, he hooked an arm around Jillian’s waist, carrying her outside.

They moved several yards away, stopping to catch their breath. Leon placed Jillian down on her feet, but kept his hands on her shoulders, gripping them lightly. He lowered his face to hers, brows knitted together in confusion. "What was that back there?? When'd you learn to- ah!" Her knees buckled and she fell against his chest. Holding her carefully, he checked her pulse and breathing, sighing in relief that both were present.

He sat down with her on the grass, then glanced over at Alex. "Made it out alright? Didn't singe any fur?" He grinned, the teasing meaning no harm. He was genuinely grateful they had made it out alive. "Where do we go from here, detective?"

Leon peered down at Jillian's sleeping face, noticing her smile; he couldn't help but smirk himself. "We just can't stay out of trouble, can we, Mala?"

He blinked. The name had rolled effortlessly off his tongue, and yet...


Who's "Mala"?


A little girl giggled somewhere off in the distance.
 
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ALEXANDRE WHITE

Right. Left. Alex's head swung in either direction, searching for the Seraphim that had only moments ago been standing on the staircase. Uriel's cruel mocking smile had been burned onto Alex's vision, and the final breaths of Jason made fresh once again in his mind's eye. He was back in that heartbreaking moment, watching Jason's blood pool around his limp, almost lifeless body. Only difference was, this time, the Seraphim was there. Laughing. Unearthly beautiful, yet unspeakably cruel. It was almost like the Angel was stabbing him in the gut with a dagger and twisting it. Rage bubbled inside him. Consumed him. The need for vengeance absolutely filled him.

With another deafening roar, he whipped around only to see Leon struck dumb for an instant. Uriel reappeared behind Jillian. Alex's pupils contracted almost into slits and a deep growl erupted from his throat. With a single bound, he was off the staircase and on the floor, three feet in front of Jillian. "Burn." The word hung in the air for a split second and before he could even process it, the entire house had become consumed by a raging inferno. Before Uriel faded away for the final time, in as flashy a manner as he could, he looked Alex in the eye and smirked.

It was that moment that offered lucidity to Alex and for the first time, he realized just what he was up against. How could a mere mortal like him hope to wreak vengeance on such an ancient and powerful creature? Certainly it was impossible. The realization broke the haze of anger and ushered in a feeling of hopelessness. He wasn't by any means giving up, but faced with the odds, he doubted if he could ever exact justice for Jason's death. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek as his towering figure shrank.

In the place of the hulking were-beast was a lion. Alex threw himself at a nearby window which still hadn't been consumed by the flames only to be hurled back a couple of feet. Righting himself, he saw that there was a burning sigil in front of the window. They were trapped. Leon seemed to have had the same idea to look for an exit. Judging from the splintered remains of some poor piece of furniture, though, he hadn't had much luck either. Alex was concerned. Maybe Leon could live through a fire, but he couldn't, and certainly he would last longer than Jillian.

Looking at the human, Alex saw something he didn't expect. She was radiant. Granted, she was pretty, but this time she was literally emanating light. Behind her, wings unfurled and flickered in and out of existence. Her hand moved in the air, drawing an intricate sigil with such speed that the air seemed to crackle with energy around her. Before he knew it, the sigil on the door had vanished and Leon and Jillian were on their way out.

Alex leapt through the smoke and flames and out the door just in time to see Jillian collapse. Leon's jab didn't sit well with the lion. He was in no mood to be joking. Nor was it, he thought to himself, the best time to jape considering that there was a house on fire right behind them. He padded over to the two and placed his snout on her neck. He could feel a pulse, and he could definitely feel her breathing. His ears perked up in relief.

Jillian had saved them. How she had done it was a matter for another day, but for the time being he was genuinely grateful for the girl. He licked her cheek affectionately, concerned that she was unconscious but glad that she was still alive. Leon said something strange. It caught Alex's attention and he cocked his head thoughtfully towards the Spiteful as though to say "Say that again?"

To answer Leon's question, Alex jabbed his snout in Jillian's direction and then in the direction of his car. He hoped that Leon knew how to drive, but more than that, he hoped that Leon knew how to hotwire a car... especially since his keys were still in his pants that were probably by now burnt to a crisp. After that, he lifted a paw and gestured towards himself. He padded over to Leon's side, tugged at the Spiteful's clothing and then pointed at himself again. He hoped against hope that Leon got the message.

Alex's ears perked up when, for the first time since leaving the house, he noticed that there were no police officers approaching them. In fact, there were no officers anywhere in sight. He nudged Leon's cheek with his paw, probably a bit too hard because the Spiteful almost toppled over, and started walking around, looking right and left.

Where was everyone?
 
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Leon the Spiteful

The name that had left Leon spellbound after it had involuntarily slipped past his lips vanished from his mind upon seeing the detective’s completely transformed face. He stared at the lion, thoroughly dumbfounded; he hadn’t noticed Alex’s metamorphosis in the whirlwind of the trio’s escape. “You… You’re…” He blinked, shaking his head and laughing at himself. “ You can’t talk, can you?” Running a hand through jet black hair, he sighed. “Charades it is, then?”

He followed the lion’s gaze and gestures closely, eyes shining with curiosity. Jillian... Car… When the lion tugged at his pants, the Spiteful folded his arms in protest. “Oi, I’m not giving you my clothes! I need them more than you right now!” While his mouth was busy making the asinine comment, his brain put two and two together and realized that the detective was referring to the car key. “Oh, er, right-OOF!” He sat back up after being knocked over by the large cat, rubbing his cheek with a frown. “Watch the claws, Aslan!!”

The lanky, slightly-charred vampire stood, scooping up Jillian carefully and holding her close. His eyes swept across the strangely vacant scene, picking up on the detective’s silent concern. “Where… Is everybody?” He peered down at the detective, Alex’s feline features glowing in the crackling flames behind them. The absence of wailing sirens was extremely disconcerting; had the precinct been compromised?

Leon trudged towards the detective’s lonely car, slightly grateful that they were currently alone, as the sight of a gray-skinned man carrying an unconscious woman flanked by a gigantic lion would raise more than a few eyebrows. He tried the back door’s handle, but naturally, it was locked. Glancing down at the detective, he winced. “Sorry about this…” Using the butt of his elbow, he struck the back window with pinpoint accuracy, shattering the glass surprisingly neatly. He unlocked the door, pushed the glass off the backseat and gently laid Jillian down, pausing to confirm her pulse was still present. He turned, gesturing to the lion. “Hop in the back for now. I’m pretty sure we’ll get pulled over if they see a lion riding shotgun.” He closed the door behind Alex and hopped in the driver’s seat, making swift work of hotwiring the ignition. He cringed as the current singed his fingertips, but grinned widely as the car sprang to life. Within minutes, they were pulling away from the smoking remains of Vincent Moore’s residence.
 
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Jillian Aiya

Through the darkness she stepped lightly, her footfalls making no sound on whatever ground lie below her feet. Though the darkness was total, Jillian did not feel claustrophobic or disoriented.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I shall fear no evil.

Despite the origin of the verse the words gave her comfort for that was where and how she felt herself to be. What were they but the prose of mortal men after all, and though such men were capable of horrors so were they capable of poignant beauty. Perhaps the same could be said of divine beings as well; did the gift of free will make them all that different? Although frankly, the will of angels seemed to be free enough in Jillian's opinion.

While she walked and thought the surroundings began to lighten to a ghostly grey the like of which veiled the world and robbed it of detail as early dawns shrouded in mist at times did. It seemed to Jillian that her very footsteps were drawing out the breaking light that gradually lit her world instead of the sun rising on its own. Testing this, she stood still for a moment, the light remaining much the same, before running forward to see a sliver of fiery orange break on what must be the horizon. When she took a few steps backward, it sunk again and Jillian absently wondered at the strangeness of it before continuing forward.

The light, she soon saw, wasn't the sun but the figure of a man who seemed to burn with an intense inner fire. She could see from a distance that he was smiling and as Jillian neared his features came into focus. Raziel.

"You did well. The power is often difficult for those who are blessed with it to wield. That you were able to use it with no preparation is a mark of great inner strength Jillian Aiya." Raziel smiled warmly and stepped closer to Jillian. He was close enough to touch now and she could feel the heat rolling off of his body like the inferno from the house. Still wary of the divine despite the angel's help, Jillian watched him closely.

"Raziel. You mentioned that afterwards you would tell me more about what I meant to have a pact with you. I... I have to admit that I can't put much trust in you just now. But whatever your motivations you helped me- us- to escape with our lives. If I'm able to be of use to Alex and Leon and possibly many more people if this is as far-reaching as they say, then no matter your intentions with me I'm willing to do what I must." Though the weight of her words were heavy, Jillian's face remained calm and even impassive. She was decided; whatever the angel offered her, whatever the consequences, she would accept and be sure not to use her sacrifice in vain. Reading her thoughts, of course, the angel smiled sadly.

"Come, walk with me and I will tell you of the pact and what you must do to complete our covenant."

It seemed like hours that they walked the featureless world and discussed the ins and outs of power and of ritual and of what was needed for the exchange. The sky was twilit when they stopped and Jillian nodded her agreement to the blazing angel beside her.

"I understand."
"Good." Raziel said simply, taking her chin in his hand to tilt her head back. Jillian didn't resist him, instead looking into eyes that seemed at once bottomless and full to the brim of regret and hope and a million other things she could not begin to name. "We are now bound, Jillian Aiya. Complete the sigil on your body when you wake." He instructed gently, the glow of the angel growing brighter and brighter in Jillian's vision until it washed everything else from her sight. Eventually the light consumed even Raziel's achingly beautiful features. Only a pure white remained and the beating of wings rang in her ears.

The steady beat became the whirr of tires and the hum of an engine, the subtle movement and the press of the leather seat against her cheek all sending very clear messages that Jill was back in the land of the living. Groggily she sat up, eyes not really open yet and threw an arm around the neck of the lion who was riding beside her without even stopping to think just how strange it was and whimpering childlike; "Wanna go home." Jillian heaved a tired sigh, tangling her fingers in Alex's mane and slumping against his tawny side. She was exhausted and a little delirious but she was through with sleep until she was safe in her bed at home.
 
ALEXANDRE WHITE

The sound of a shattering window made Alex wince. He growled at Leon and then whined right after. Did the fucker not know how expensive it was go get a window repaired? He shook his head -- ruffling his mane as a result -- in resignation and hopped up into the back seat with Jillian, taking care to not hurt her in any way with his claws. He watched Leon with eyes narrowed as though to say "You better not do any more damage to my car or I swear, I will sell you to a brothel to pay for the repair bill."

Before long, Leon was strapped into the driver's seat and the next thing he knew, Alex heard a fizzle, a pop, and then the sound of his engine starting. Moments later, they were pulling away from the smoldering ruins of Vincent Moore's home. While Alex was relieved that they were all safe and sound, he could not help but be frustrated at all the evidence that had just been burned to a crisp. Thankfully they still had the manila folder that Jillian had gotten from Vincent. Having just gone through a harrowing, life-threatening experience, Alex hoped beyond all hope that the contents of that folder were worth what they had to experience in order to get it.

Alex watched the smoke pouring out of the remains of Moore's house dwindle in the distance through the back window of the car. His mind wandered back to the revelation that Uriel had so nonchalantly broken to him. Then again, he guessed that angering him to the point of mindless fury had been the goal of the whole thing. He felt anger well in him again, but this time not the kind that came from utter anguish. This time, his fury was the determined kind. Setting his head on the backrest of the seat, he thought to himself: "One day we will have our vengeance, Jason. One day."

As he watched the house shrink away, he noticed a strange thing, there were other plumes of smoke in varying distances from where they were. Was this a good explanation of why there was no one around? Had there been a terrorist attack staged? If those roiling pillars of smoke in the distance were a good indication, then it was very probable that a huge portion, if not the entirety of the force had been dispatched to get the situation under control. If anything, even the Pack would be involved.

Alex counted the individual pillars of smoke and saw seven in the direction of Moore's house. Looking around he could see a little more than a dozen more. Whatever was going on, it was large-scale and it was definitely a worrying sight. Had the Heavenly Host decided to make its move so early in the game? In some way, it made sense since the Legions of Hell were not ready just yet for it.

Before he could alert Leon to the predicament, Jillian woke up and threw her arms around Alex's neck, unbalancing him enough for him to end up lying on his side. Using one of his hind legs, he kicked the back of the driver's seat. He yelped when the car jerked to one side almost instantaneously before being corrected. Alex rumbled sheepishly, realizing how stupid that move had been. However, in his defense, they had just gone through a pretty stressful experience.

---

Far in the distance, ambulance, firetruck and police sirens were wailing up a racket. There was complete chaos and the media was in a frenzy. However, no matter how much anyone tried, there was no blowing things out of proportion as everything was already out of proportion. Alex had been right, nearly every single police officer, emergency response unit, and fire fighter in the city was doing one thing or another. In fact, in Alex's own precinct, many of the officers who remained were inundated with calls.

However, one frail old woman sat in a corner, trembling with complete and utter terror. She had just lost something very precious not just to her, but to an entire people. Unfortunately, everyone was too busy to help her especially since the artifact was not something that most mortals held to high regard. Unfortunate, perhaps to the eyes of many, but it was just as the Heavenly Host had planned.
 
Leon the Spiteful

A sudden kick to the back of his seat caused Leon's hands to involuntarily jerk the wheel. The tires skid but for a moment before the car continued on smoothly.

"What are you-!" Leon barked, eyes snapping up to the rearview; he cut his sentence short at the sight of Jillian awake, groggy but alive. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief, grinning wearily at the exhausted woman tangled haphazardly in the lion's mane in the backseat. "Sorry Jillian, but I can't bring you home just yet; your little doorman friend is working for Team Featherass." Chocolate eyes flicked up, catching Alex's gaze. "Chances are your place isn't the safest either, since we're not sure who we can trust. It would be safest to go to my place; no one knows where I live."

The Spiteful kept driving, noticing the rising plumes of smoke around town and the bustle of emergency personnel. He shook his head, asking quietly, "What the hell... heaven?...is going on?" He drove north, passing through Stanley Park and crossing the Lions Gate Bridge. Weaving through a second, much smaller park, the car finally came to a stop at a hastily-made gravel parking lot. Killing the engine, he hopped out the driver's seat, moving around the back to help Jillian out of the car.

"Welcome to my humble abode. I wish you could have come under different circumstances..." He flashed a teasing grin at her, face falling as he quickly snaked an arm around her waist to steady her. Leon clucked his tongue, beckoning Alex to follow. "Come along, kitty." He inwardly winced at the jab, expecting the detective to take a chunk out of his leg for that one.

He led the two up a short wooded path to his place of residence: A stout, slightly bobbing houseboat. "House" was a bit too kind a description for this particular structure... Fishing the key out of his pocket, he unlocked the door and pushed it open with his foot; its rusty hinges creaked in protest. Grabbing at the air blindly, he switched on a low-hanging light and helped Jillian to the couch.

He peered down at her, gaze a mixture of relief and concern. Black wisps curled across his forehead, his dark eyebrows knit together. "How do you feel? Can I get you anything...?"

His gaze moved over to Alex, asking in a perplexed manner, "What about you? When can you, ah... turn back?"
 
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Jillian Aiya

Still a bit lightheaded, Jillian watched the city recede behind them along with the various plumes of smoke. She watched it with an odd sense of detachment, as if what she saw just couldn't be real. They were all over the place and if there were people, if it had been like when they were trapped in Vincent's house, she could only imagine the suffering. A thick wave of nausea rolled over Jillian at the thought and she had to put her head down between her legs for much of the drive out.

There wasn't much conversation on the drive to Leon's place- wherever that was- and though the young woman knew it made sense not to go back to her apartment especially if what the vampire said about her doorman was true it didn't necessarily make her long for the comforts of her own place any less. Wherever Leon lived, she just hoped that she would be able to take a hot shower and lay down someplace soft. There was also the matter of completing the sigil and sealing her pact with the angel. As much as she was conflicted in her decision to trust the heavenly traitor, Jillian knew better than to mention such a thing to either of the supernatural men who accompanied her. She just didn't think they would understand. They might even cut off contact with her and right now she just couldn't bear that.

Soon enough, gravel crunched beneath the tires and they came to a stop in some small park that Jillian had never been to before. Opening her door and stepping out, she found that she was still a bit unsteady on her feet and gave Leon a grateful smile as he took her hands. "Thanks. Just please tell me we're not camping and I don't care what circumstances got us here." She assured him, going to stand and gasping as her knees promptly buckled and she sagged into his arm for support. "Sorry." Jill murmured as the Spiteful bore her weight up the path. The closeness and the intimacy of the contact brought a blush out in Jillian's cheeks, the flirtatious nature of her bodyguard not helping her situation. Even if he was seemingly lost in thought as they walked along. In order to turn her thoughts from where they were headed, she turned to glance at Alex in his full leonine form and found that she rather envied him for having the stability of four legs. If he could talk, would he? The poison words of Uriel still rang in her ears and she couldn't imagine how the detective might be feeling right now. Jillian felt strangely compelled to put her arms around his mane once again in order to comfort him, though she wasn't exactly sure if it would be welcome.

Jillian's train of thought was promptly derailed when they came upon Leon's house.... boat. Well, what had she been expecting? At least it wasn't a tent. Inside, once Leon had turned on the light and helped her to the couch, she took in the decor, if it could be called that. The place was old and worn but habitable it seemed; it didn't appear as if Leon spent much time here anyway and she couldn't blame him. Once again she wondered at the day-to-day needs of vampires and at how very different the situation they currently found themselves in was from the way movies and books portrayed vampiric accommodation. She supposed it was silly to expect a tent; Jillian really ought to have expected a crypt or something, but that was all water under the floorboards now. Lost in thought- that was happening a lot lately- she simply blinked up at the grey-skinned man before she realized he had asked her something.

"Er.." Was Jillian's tactful response. That expression. In the past two days of knowing Leon had he ever seemed so sincere and so sweetly caring before? Perhaps that morning, apologizing and giving her a pastry. It seemed so long ago now, given everything that had happened and it was with this same sense of detached clarity that Jillian had come into that made her realize that this was Leon's true face.

Boy, was he handsome.

Her hand was already in mid-air to reach out and touch his jaw when Jillian realized just what she was doing. Flashing a reassuring smile, she dropped her hand back to her lap before answering. "I still feel sort of fuzzy, from the smoke I guess. Does this thing have a shower? I would love to clean up and get my head on straight if you two don't mind." She asked, glancing at Alex as well. It may also be a good idea if she weren't in the room when he changed back; she doubted his clothes changed with him.

Twenty minutes and a bit of awkward conversation later, the researcher was being cascaded with steaming hot water. As it turned out the bathroom for the houseboat was very similar to the RV her grandparents had when they came from Japan to spend a few months touring Canada. The only major difference was that this water was pumped directly from the lake below them and due to the ancient filter it was running through still had some of that natural lake scent. Jillian didn't mind it all that much and the soap that was on hand overwhelmed the subtle odor anyway. She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower stall into the small bathroom, quickly drying herself and wiping the condensation from the fogged mirror. There it was, just like before she had stepped into the water: a sigil.

The circle was fine and the color of henna on Jillian's pale skin where it sat above her solar plexus, just below and centered between her breasts. With a delicate hand she traced a fingertip along it and felt that it was raised like a scar. One she knew would never fade. And it needed finishing. Already the fine angelic script was inscribed there with Raziel's promise like a living contract in no uncertain terms. He was as bound as she was going to be once she added her own signature and completed the covenant. This was, in the least, reassuring.

Taking a steadying breath inward, Jillian closed her eyes and upon her exhalation the book of her mind opened and she knew. Before her, her hands moved slowly to carefully craft the promise of her heart. Her side of the bargain to Raziel, her secret vow to those she cared for, her wish for strength to be of help, and her love for the whole of humanity. It burned like a brand in the air in front of Jillian, illuminating the steam-wet surfaces around her as well as her own skin with its fiery light. It was beautiful; it was truth. And, reaching out, Jillian held it with gentle protectiveness and drew it to her chest.

It burned and she gasped, or tried to but the breath was knocked from her body and Jillian found herself only able to gape like a fish out of water for a moment as tears streamed down her face. She gripped the bowl of the sink for support. And then, it was over. She felt herself again. Looking up at the woman in the mirror Jillian felt the fog lift from her mind and felt a sense of purpose in her body; she felt whole. And it felt good. The sigil on her body was complete and to her, just as beautiful was when it had burned in the steamy air. She smiled and pulled on her underclothes and the long flannel button-up shirt that Leon had given her to wear after her shower. She didn't want to smell the smoke of Vincent's home on her own clothing, so they would have to be washed before she was going to put them on again. Pulling back the little plastic louvered door that acted as the bathroom door, Jillian exited the bathroom in a puff of steam and made her way over to flop onto the threadbare couch.

"Phew! Well I feel like a human being again. No offense, guys." She smiled at Alex and Leon in turn before sweeping a hand back through her damp hair and crossing her legs modestly. "So, what's the plan and does it include food? I'm starving. Again. And you don't want to see me as grumpy as last night. Not after today."
 
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ALEXANDRE WHITE


With each turn Leon took, Alex's eyes widened a bit due, in part, to the unfamiliar area that Leon was taking his precious car through but mostly because the scope of the attack continued to unfold in front of him. It wasn't just downtown Vancouver. Wherever Leon drove, plumes of smoke seemed to come into view. The incident was so large scale that Alex had difficulty believing it was staged by a mere terrorist. That being said, the Heavenly Host was the father of all terrorists to begin with. He could only imagine the scenes of carnage and panic around the city. It wasn't until they neared the bridge that Alex began to hear the first and faintest of hysterics from people in the area.

Whatever had happened while they were in Moore's house was swift, calculated and decisive. He almost dreaded watching the evening news -- assuming, of course, that Leon had a means of watching or maybe even listening to the evening news -- and hearing the number of total casualties. He doubted that the Heavenly Host had any regard for the human cost of the whole thing. In fact, strike any number of residences in such a manner, and the death toll would actually bolster their armies of devout zealots in the Celestial Sphere. Alex grumbled softly, the whole situation seeming daunting all of a sudden.

When Leon pulled up in front of a house... boat? He wasn't quite sure what exactly was going on with the damn thing, only that it looked horribly unsuitable for living people. He was very apprehensive about going inside Leon's residence, if only because his instincts told him it was very dangerous. He hesitated a bit in front of the creaky door when Leon entered, turned around to look at his car and then back. Making up his mind he made his way into the houseboat. Very carefully. In fact, the only way he could've gone faster was if Leon put a collar around his neck and dragged him into the thing. Fortunately, Leon was busy carrying Jillian.

The slight swaying of the entire boat made Alex a little nauseous, but he was able, barely, to keep himself together. When Jillian glanced at him, Alex glanced back and then sat on his haunches, subtly jerking his head as though to nudge her on. Once she was gone, Alex rolled on his back and then ended up on his side, growling softly with distress. The rocking was starting to give him a headache. When he finally got a hold of himself, he padded over to Leon, and started nipping at the Spiteful's shirt and pants. He hoped that Leon would understand the predicament.

It wasn't long after Jillian settled herself on the couch and posed her question that Alex felt the day's fatigue roll over him and he lost control over his form. There was a lot of disgruntled growling and popping and cracking as Alex's bones rearranged themselves back into his human shape. A few minutes later, Alexandre Ethan White sat there, face to face with Leon, utterly red in the face, his hands covering his privates and naked as the day he was born. An awkward silence permeated the air as everyone just glanced at everyone else, not knowing exactly what to do.

Alex coughed out of embarrassment and said "...yeah. Food would be good. And clothes, too, I hope."

---

The sand dunes of the Egyptian desert were never quiet even in the dead cold of the night. The wind was ever present, a ghostly rustling in its wake as it made the sands shift, ever changing from one day to the next. Various skitterings, crawlings, and whatever manner of movement also filled the freezing night air with a quiet racket. The pyramids were very old, testament to an empire long gone and an age of conflict and prosperity that went with it. The sands were older still, dating perhaps to the very first settlers of what would later be known as the Egyptian empire and perhaps even further back.

Yet the very rock that the sands stood on were far more ancient. Primeval, existing since the dawn of time. While above the world slept, underneath the sands, creatures as old as the foundation of the desert itself stirred. Ancient forces were stirring. Old enemies were beginning to roam the world together once more. Clouds of war were gathering.

Deep beneath the sands, deeper than the chambers of the pyramids, deeper even, than the deepest tombs in the Valley of the Kings, in a yawning cavern lit by ancient magicks, faceless men and women streamed through the doorway of their most sacred site.

It was the nigh impenetrable citadel of the First Peoples, existing in its very own metaphysical alcove in the Celestial Sphere. Many knew it simply as the Labyrinth, a name that its creator Daedalus fancied for it. However, its true name was far more powerful. The Ouroboros. A testament to what the First Peoples are, primordial. Many knew it as a Greek structure, perhaps because one of its entrances was in Crete and it was described the most in Greek literature. It predated that civilization, though, and many civilizations before it.

Within, the High Seat of the Progenitus Council had called for the Council to gather. Coatlicue, the earth mother. She was a formidable force, whether in running the underground world of the First Peoples or her flower shop empire aboveground. Her voice boomed across the winding paths of the Ouroboros, reverberating through the very stone that it was made of.

"My bretheren. The banners have been called."
 
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Jillian Aiya

The snapping and popping of bones and the lengthening of ligaments as Alex reverted back to his human form was, to Jillian, horrifying. Even with her new found understanding of the supernatural thanks to her bond with Raziel some things were still just icky. Her empty stomach clenched uncomfortably and she looked away from the sight. It was a good thing she did, if not for her sanity then for her modesty since in a short time there sat the achingly handsome detective completely in the buff.

Jillian could feel her cheeks heating, her face becoming as red as a strawberry. True, she now knew that Alex had no eye for women but all the same the former lion was extremely good-looking. The tension, the awkwardness, and the sheer weight of the last few days seemed to fall for just a moment when she heard him speak, trying desperately to hold on to normalcy and act as calm as he could given his situation. The world was falling apart and here they sat in a derelict houseboat in various states of undress and trying to discuss meal plans like none of this was weird in the least.

It was hilarious.

A slow giggle began to build in Jillian's chest, gaining strength until she found herself on her back on the couch, clasping her stomach with tears rolling down her cheeks. After a few false stops she sat up and wiped the tears from her cheeks, her eyes still shining with amusement when she looked at the two men. It felt so good to have just let go like that for a minute. "Ohh, Alex.." She gasped, giving him a sheepish apologetic smile as she pushed a few damp disturbed strands of hair from her face. "I'm sorry, but it was just so funny." She tried to explain, raising her hands in a helpless gesture. The laughter had a cleansing feeling much like the shower she had just left and after it, oddly, Jillian felt her spirit nourished. A little food and she felt like they could really do something. Or at least she hoped.

Tugging his shirt down a bit lower on her thighs, Jillian boldly flashed Leon a shy smile. "So how about it? Burger run?"

---

Jillian swiped the last of her fries through a dab of ketchup before popping them into her mouth and said a silent thanks to the almighty fast food chain. Where else would still be pumping out lamp-warmed burgers and fries in the face of the apocalypse? They weren't by any stretch of the imagination great but to Jillian's empty stomach the sacks of smashed burgers that Leon had returned with was a feast. Maybe Cervantes had it right. After a swig of her soft drink, she wiped her salty oily hands on her knees and looked at the two men.

"Okay. So this is the end of the world. Now what?"
 
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Leon the Spiteful

Leon blinked, now eye level with the very nude, very embarrassed detective. The vampire was, for once, speechless; there was no doubting the detective was extremely handsome... He met Alex's tawny gaze with a look of amusement, and a hint of attraction. Unable to keep his eyes from wandering, he quirked a thick brow to lighten the mood, grinning and remarking, "You know, for a pussycat, you're quite the hunk."

Leon caught Jillian's giggle, chuckling as he handed Alex a worn, plaid blanket. "Use this for now, I'll grab you some clothes from upstairs." He brushed past the detective and ducked his head to the side to avoid the single light bulb suspended from the low-hanging ceiling. It gently swung as the wiry vampire passed it, temporarily illuminating the rest of the tiny living room to reveal the faded plastic panel door of the bathroom on the right, and an archway leading to a small kitchen on the left. Stacks of books, varying in size and mostly paperback, sat along the walls on either side of the entryway. An old transistor radio perched atop one of the stacks, its chipped brown and orange exterior almost comically obsolete.

The Spiteful walked through the small kitchen and up a winding, rusted staircase, rummaging through a chest of drawers. He fished out a long-sleeved, button-up shirt and a pair of pants that would hopefully fit the werelion. He returned downstairs and handed Alex the clothes, training his eyes on the detective's to suppress the wicked smirk threatening to overtake his lips. "These should do."

At Jillian's mention of food, the vampire winced. "There isn't much of a selection around here, I'm afraid. The nearest burger joint is about ten minutes out-" The petite woman's stomach growled in answer, and the vampire laughed. "Okay, I'll make it quick. You two stay here and rest. There's a bed upstairs if you want to get more comfortable." With a wink, he was out the door.

---

Half an hour later, Leon sat on the floor of the creaky houseboat, back leaning against the wall with his arms resting behind his head. He idly watched his two guests eat their bovine buffet as the day replayed itself in his mind. The angel's stinging words, their narrow escape, the widespread carnage...

"Mala"...

The reawakened memories flashed by, like a poorly edited film strip. He strained to remember more, but the meaning eluded him. The images elicited an uncanny sense of warmth and comfort, like he had been... Happy. But why?

Abandoning his thoughts to join the conversation, he repeated Jillian's question, tone reserved and unsure. "Yeah, now what? I mean, are we in any way prepared for this? I've got some contacts in the Hand that might be of help. Though, in my case, "help" is more like "do what he says so he'll shut up and get the hell away"...". He snickered, leaning forward to hug his knees, resting his chin on them. Chocolate brown eyes flicked up to Alex, the Spiteful's posture making him appear rather diminutive. "I assume you're well connected, what with being a cop AND a Manimal..."

An idea sparked the Spiteful's attention suddenly; he reached over to the old radio, switching it on and tuning through the channels. He was met with mostly static, but a few snippets of voices pierced through the conflagration.

-of Emergency //// Widespread attacks //// Stay indoors ////

He sighed, raking slender fingers through raven curls. "So much for that..."
 
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