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Post by Lysandor on Jan 27, 2008 14:05:40 GMT -6
Lysandor removes his jacket and gives it to Ciel. He's wearing an old, very baggy sweater that faded from black to grey long ago, his only concession to the cold.
"The mortal realm boasts of a wider variety of temperature than most of Hell," Lysandor tells her. "For one who has spent most of your life in Hell, the mortal realm can take some getting used to."
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Post by Narrator on Jan 27, 2008 16:46:18 GMT -6
Outside the shop across the dingy, slushy street. The cold wind howls blowing the fallen snow about as the street lamps have become much brighter and begin to flicker oddly. On the street by a service entrance to the store on the corner the snow blows and for a brief moment a lone figure stands squarely to the street looking directly into the shop at the 3, through the shops front plate glass window. For a moment the figure is there, dark against the showy brick building behind it, clear and illuminated by the bright streetlights. The lamps dim now, almost to die as the light then fades into the harsh shadows. Then as the lamps return to their normal candle watt glow and the blowing snows soften, the figure is long gone.
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Post by Ereshkigal on Jan 27, 2008 23:16:59 GMT -6
Ereshkigal is looking to Ciel but nods at Lysandor.
"Lets go now. Ciel, I will come back soon or find a reason for Lysandor to bring you here. But I have a bad feeling- right now..." She takes the Devilcat's hand in her's and heads quickly for the exit a worried frown on her face. Her coat buttons it's self as she walks and she doesn't seem to notice. The employee whose been slowly preparing the coffee she asked for earlier starts moving to stop them, complaining that the items haven't been paid for.
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Post by Ciel on Jan 28, 2008 12:45:34 GMT -6
Ciel takes Lysandor's jacket haltingly and buttons it. "Thank you Master Lysandor. That was very sweet of you." She put her hand back in his other and looks at Erishkegal as the Queen looks at her.
"Yes Majesty. I will await the time as to be allowed such a real privilege..." she tries not to look around and see what the Queen's looking for...she has a feeling that she would not wish to see.
She slips her hand into her Queen's and goes quickly between them for the exit. She barely notices anything but the walk in front of them.
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Post by Lysandor on Jan 28, 2008 17:37:57 GMT -6
Lysandor bows his head slightly at Ciel's thanking him, but his sterling eyes snap to the outside when the Queen mentions a "bad feeling," which is hardly ever good.
"Perhaps I should go out first," Lysandor suggests, following the Queen and Ciel. He doesn't pay any attention to the protesting employee, discarding the possibility that they could be a threat.
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Post by Narrator on Jan 29, 2008 11:04:07 GMT -6
The lady behind the counter starts shouting at them over the unpaid tab and moves from around the counter to chase them out the door, ticket waving high in her hand. "I'm going to call the police!" she screams into the chilled night. "You'll be sorry! Don't come back!" she shrills into the dark.
The icy wind begins to pick up and the blowing snow is cold and begins hindering visibility. The packed snow on the sidewalk has become very difficult to traverse making the walk very slippery.
High above them in the frosty sky, the figure from before is watching them as they scurry off to the gate. Like mice in a maze they don't see what dangers await them around the next bend. Each step is becoming more and more difficult. This can't just be coincidence, can it?
It is almost as if these demons were deliberately slipping and sliding... into... a trap?
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Regent
Bourgeois
The Regent of Darkness
Posts: 246
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Post by Regent on Jan 29, 2008 11:42:25 GMT -6
As the demons walk, yet another pair of eyes also watch them from the deep crevasses of the dark. The snow and cold have no effect on his clarity and he remains hidden in the shadows.
He has a ring side view to the up coming conflict. He spies the figure lurking high above the demons and he sees the humans and their high pressure fire hose waiting to blast them as soon as they pop out from around the corner.
Undoubtedly to spray them with full force and knock the demons down to the snow and freeze them solid to the street.
'How unsportsmanlike.' he ponders.
A faint whisper leaves his lips directed toward the Demonic queen as they approach this frigid doom. The message simple but direct. The faint whisper meant to be heard by the young queen, almost as a memory or a dream to her ears.
Urgent but not commanding the word makes a resonance in her ears accompanied by an image of the eager humans waiting for them, pops into her minds eye like a weird distortion of memory. It is as if the very darkness were pleading with her not to proceed.
It whispers to her in a ghostly voice in an eerily familiar but very ancient tongue...
"Stop."
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Post by Ereshkigal on Jan 29, 2008 17:37:00 GMT -6
Queenie, pauses, shakes her head a little and looks around. She looks at Ciel and Lysandor.
"Ciel... can you smell anything?" she murmurs in the Devilcat's ear as she motions Lysandor closer pulling the three of them into a doorway out of the wind.
"It might just be my powers acting up- but I think we need to find an alternate route to the gate. If Ciel can't smell anything then I'll take point and fly. If I loose control...just run." She says it softly, worriedly her warm hand squeezing Ciel's tightly.
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Post by Ciel on Jan 30, 2008 0:21:08 GMT -6
Ciel sniffs the air and nods. "I do smell something off Maje...G-ghostie." She snuggled into the two of them and tried not to let her heart pound out of great fear...
Not another rogue angel?
She nuzzled into Queenie's neck and sighed out. "I do not want to run...but if I must..."
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Post by Narrator on Jan 30, 2008 12:03:51 GMT -6
The hesitation of the group of demons has the humans confused, they should have been here by now. They begin to whisper among themselves and start peeking around the corner to see what is keeping them. The lone figure floating high above remains silent as he watches them duck for cover.
The figure flies ahead to the waiting humans. He lands out of their sight and he appears like a ghost from behind them as he walks up to the human leader with an arrogant glide. The beautiful man removes his scarf to reveal his priestly vestments.
"My children," he coos to them, his voice is rich, smooth and calm, "The unholy know we are here." His clear blue eyes shine silvery for a moment as they twinkle in the street lamps glow. "So, we shall take our holy baptism to them... In the name of the Holy Father, amen."
No sooner do the words escape his lips when the men holding the hose begin to scream as they charge around the corner straight toward the hiding demons. The hose in their strong hands prepared to release its torrent of freezing, holy water on the unclean from the water truck hidden just around the corner.
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Post by Lysandor on Feb 1, 2008 12:49:57 GMT -6
Lysandor follows Ghostie's motioning, and stops in the doorway. He frowns as he looks around in the night, above and below. "What is it you sense out there?"
Lysandor hears the screaming, and reacts instantly, pulling out his weapons and sliding them on in a heartbeat. He positions himself in front of Ereshkigal and Ciel to take the brunt of the attack, blocking them with his body.
"Run."
He stands his ground at the charging men, his stance ready and waiting.
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Post by Ereshkigal on Feb 1, 2008 13:34:30 GMT -6
Ereshkigal looks at Ciel and smiles sadly.
"I'm sorry, this is why I asked you to stay safely in Hell. But I won't allow them to hurt you. I made that desicion after... Zarek. No one will stand in front of me and fight battles while I look on helplessly." She steps up next to Lysandor, lays a hand on his arm. A slender black bladed sword in held surely in her other hand.
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Post by Ciel on Feb 1, 2008 23:10:42 GMT -6
Ciel sighed and looked at the ground at their feet. "I sense something made of...light."
She turns to her Queen and defiantly holds her own ground, producing her own dagger from somewhere in her leather pants. " Just as I will not allow them to hurt you, my Queen. I have learned a great many things in your absence, and standing up for those that I love is a great one of them. I cannot stay safely behind and allow you both to go into danger to save me. I cannot stand idly by and watch you both be hurt or possibly killed keeping my sorry hide out of major danger."
Her green eyes glinted in the darkness of their hole as she stepped aside to stand beside her love and her new protector, being on Lysandor's other side. " I have also come to a decision that I will fight my own battles as well. Though I thoroughly believe in the Elite's great skill, I must learn to protect myself as well as those that I care for."
She laid her non-dagger hand on Lysandor's shoulder for a mere moment and got into her own battle stance. "I will not be helpless anymore either."
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Post by Lysandor on Feb 3, 2008 16:48:24 GMT -6
Lysandor wants to argue, but stops himself. From the determination in their eyes and voice, it's obvious to him that they wouldn't listen to him in any case. Besides, he just might need the help.
"If you must stay," Lysandor says, resigning himself. "But I beg of you both, if it starts to get out of hand, please just run. It is my duty to protect you both, with my life if it comes down to it."
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Post by Ereshkigal on Feb 3, 2008 17:44:30 GMT -6
Queenie glances sideways at Lysandor and says with a chuckle.
"Funny, I was going to say that myself. If I loose control- just run." She smiles past him at Ciel and her eyes are warm with pride. Then she looks back at the humans and moves into a battle stance.
"Get ready!"
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Post by Ciel on Feb 3, 2008 18:46:03 GMT -6
Ciel nods at them both and stays in her stance.
"I have been more than ready to protect for a long time. Let them come."
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Post by Narrator on Feb 5, 2008 11:38:34 GMT -6
The men come to a sudden halt as they have reached the end of the length of fire hose. They see the demons take a defensive posture and they begin to laugh.
"HIT IT!" the burly leader yells and he cranks back the pressure release. The hose bucks wildly in their hands as 200 psi force of torrent water jets out toward the demons. The freezing water spray is quick to reach them and in a blink of an eye, blasts them all off their feet and onto their backs on impact. The pressurized blast sends them sliding down the street like bugs caught in the whirlpool of the commode as they scramble in futility for any hand hold to prevent the inevitable ride down the drain.
The demons tumble over themselves in a tangled heap as they skid down the block. They come to a quick stop as they strike the curb hard and land up in the gutter. It holds them steady now from the mighty stream of rushing water released by the now out of reach water hose.
Though now clear from the dangers of the pressurized blasting, the real danger becomes painfully evident. The clear water is quickly freezing to their exposed skin in the sub zero temps. Soggy clothing become very stiff almost instantly and parts of their wet hair begin to stiffen with ice, their drenched forms begin freezing to the now mirror polished ice rink of a street.
The 10 men laugh as the demons tumble. They soon realize the 3 are out of reach for the full force of the water. They shut down the hose and quickly gather up weapons of convenience they have brought with them. They begin the quick march to the end of the street to swiftly pummel the freezing hellions before they can get back to their feet. They have come prepared for this and they are wearing ice climbing boots with wicked shoe spikes not to slip or slide in the slippery mess they have just created.
The priest watches them intently from the distance as his quarry begin to freeze. Form out of nowhere, a sudden gusty blast of winters icy, wind cuts through the streets bringing with it sharp chunks of snow and ice to mercilessly pummel the downed demons.
The street lights flicker as they did before, because the temp drops even faster. It almost feels as if it were to purposely freeze the queen and her subjects solid to each other and to the slick pavement.
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Post by Ereshkigal on Feb 5, 2008 13:29:35 GMT -6
Ereshkigal's coat flairs in front of Ciel and Lysandor, protecting them from at least some of the water. Though ice cakes her hair and her face where it touches her clothes it is simply absorbed. She kneels in front of the drain giggling as she brushes the ice from her fur covered cheek.
"Oh please! Mortals? Ice? Against the black void of nothingness? Against me?" And Ereshkigal stands up shedding snow and chunks of ice to spread her wings sheltering Ciel and Lysandor from the frozen wind. She keeps giggling and her laugh is more than a little mad.
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Post by Ciel on Feb 5, 2008 20:04:44 GMT -6
Ciel is shivering even harder as the water hits. She holds to her dagger for dear life and as they slide to a stop behind Erishkegal, Ciel automatically grabs for Lysandor. Her fangs are chattering against her bottom teeth as she tries almost in vain to pull them both up.
She's trying, with an extremely shaky hand, to brush the ice off him while there's much more ice shards in her own hair. "M-m-master E-elite... S-sh-sshould we r-run now?"
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Post by Lysandor on Feb 6, 2008 13:12:45 GMT -6
Lysandor struggles to his feet, helping Ciel as much as she was helping him. He removes his sweater before the fabric could begin to stick to him in earnest, but even so, the ice removes a layer or two of skin from various places on his body. He shoves an icy lock of hair out of his eyes as he glares at the human men.
"Falling back to a less slippery surface might not be a bad idea," Lysandor says to both Ciel and the Queen. He looks as the streetlights dim and flicker, then begins to search the area for the one responsible for their current predicament. "This being of light . . . he'll be watching to ensure that these humans succeed in their task, and when they fail, he will come himself."
Lysandor steps up beside Ereshkigal and slips into a fighting stance, balancing himself as much as he can on the ice. He removes two daggers from their sheaths now exposed since he removed the freezing sweater. He has one other sword in case the daggers aren't enough.
The Fallen Elite is ready, even eager, for the fight.
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