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Salvation

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Salvation Empty Salvation

Post by Digital Muse Sun May 22, 2011 8:32 pm

The fall had come early to the San Francisco bay area this year. The fog lay heavy against the wet, darkened streets as a dark figure walked down narrow alleys between closely built brick structures not far from the water front. No one really came to this old part of the town anymore and the money-hungry developers hadn’t set their sights on this section of the city thus far. Rebuilt immediately after the quake in 1906, nothing had changed other than the names of the businesses and warehouses. Crumbling old brick, rusting warehouses and boarded up windows were the norm, rather than the exception here. One business though had been here for as long as anyone cared to remember. And that was where a solitary figure directed his footsteps.

It'd been a year, to the day, since the last time this man approached the shop. He'd been coming here once a year for a very, very long time and this was the first years in that time that he'd found the door locked. After ten minutes of knocking, he rammed against the old wood with his shoulder, splintering the frame, and pushing the door off its hinges so he could step through. He regretted having to do that, but he’d pay Abraxus for the damages, of course.

"Abraxus, are you here? I've been knocking for ten minutes, old man."

The figure stepped across the threshold of the door leading into the main room of the Occult Shoppe, a small specialty store hidden in the lesser traveled part of San Francisco. From the street, the store was hard to find, unless you know what you are looking for. The storefront was old, and from without, the building looked nearly condemned. The windows were covered with thick black fabric, which kept any light inside from being seen on the street. The only hint that there was something behind the door; a little more than a slab of wood painted gray long ago and now faded and peeling, was the small sticker above the door handle. The decorative, peeling script read: Occult Shoppe. Business hours: Anytime

"Where are you, Old Man?" He called out into the dimly lit main store. The heavy black fabric over the windows prevented the light inside from being spotted, but also light from the street from getting in. So, the only source of illumination in the room is a single gas lamp, sitting on the clerk's counter at the back of the room.

The inside of the store is wondrous. The bookcases and tables, and even the counter, look as though they are hundreds of years old. The wood was faded, and splintering slightly along the edges and all was covered with just the right amount of dust to add to the atmosphere. The shelves were covered with an assortment of arcane objects; talismans, charms, scrolls, even a half dozen crystal balls. Trinkets to charm the uninitiated... the kind of thing people who didn't know better expected to see in a 'magic store'. The books on the shelves were only slightly more useful... basics on card reading, copies of holy texts and the like. The real collection was in the back room, through the door behind the counter. That was where Abraxus, the proprietor lived, and where he did his real work.

The man stepped forward, carefully winding his way through the room, avoiding bumping into any tabletops, lest he knock over something breakable. He passed before a large ornate mirror leaning against a wall. The tarnished surface reflected the image of a very tall man dressed in unrelieved black. From over coat to conservative suit and tie, his clothing was unremarkable. His build was hidden, but he gave the impression of having been in some form of the military with his straight back and broad shoulders. The reflection also revealed a strong jaw, close-cropped light brown hair and deep blue eyes. All in all, he certainly was not remarkable. He reached the doorway leading to the back of the shop, and called out again.

"Where are you? It's not like you wouldn't have been expecting my visit. I've been here about forty times on this exact same day, every year."

As the man approached the back room that led to Abraxus' living quarters he heard the sound of something being knocked over followed by a woman's low pitched voice "Shit". The curse was followed by the sound of scrambling.

The visitor turned swiftly, bringing his focus back on the main room of the shop. His eyes scan through the dim light, made only slightly brighter by the lack of front door. The only thing he could see out of place was the toppled statue of Isis, the Egyptian goddess of motherhood and fertility, which had fallen from its place on a table of similar likenesses and bric-a-brac.

"Who's there?" he called out to the room, as he took a step forward. He would have at least seen, or heard, anybody heading for the front door. Even if all he caught glance of would have been their shadow as they ran into daylight. Lacking that, he knew the owner of the voice must be there. "I won't hurt you." He spoke to the empty room, reassuringly.

Upon the old carved desk, he spied an odd-looking laptop. It was littered with more stickers than seemed possible, but more oddly, it was something Abraxus abhorred and distrusted. It was powered up, but showed only a screen saver of a fall of black feathers. As his eyes scanned the dimly-lit room, he saw the usual trinkets, odd collections of skulls, crystals and puzzle boxes that he’d always seen. But as he keeps looking, his eyes light upon a large black raven that studied him with great interest.

"Well... you certainly didn't carry a computer in here yourself, little one." He said to the raven as he worked his way around the counter. The visitor kept his eyes on the darker parts of the store, approaching the laptop, and reached out for it slowly. He passed his finger across the touch pad below the keyboard, and glanced at the screen as a box pops up, asking for a password. He frowned sourly. He'd heard many stories of people who set their computers to delete everything stored on them if an unauthorized someone entered the wrong password. Opting to leave it be, he chose to fold up the laptop, and carry it under his arm to continue searching the store.

"Whoever belongs to this will have to come to me to get it back, isn't that right, little one?" He turned back to the raven, and extended his hand, palm up. "Why don't you come with me, while I search for my friend?" He offered to the out of place creature. Abraxus must have had some reason for keeping such an odd pet.

As he reached out toward the raven, it leaned away from him suspiciously, but then hopped from its chosen perch to his forearm. Its claws grip his arm with startling strength. The bird stared at him, canting its head so it can see him clearly out of one eye. After a moment or two, the Raven took flight from his arm to alight in the worn leather chair behind the desk. There, it stretched and morphed into a skinny, homely girl with a prominent nose, wildly razored black hair and insanely brilliant clothes.

She cocked her head at him and studied him for a second, "You didn't take him." She pronounces. She smiled brilliantly. "I'm Jinx."
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Salvation Empty Re: Salvation

Post by Digital Muse Sun May 22, 2011 8:32 pm

The man raised an eyebrow, staring at her for a moment before simply nodding. "Hello Jinx. I assume this is yours then." He set the laptop down on the table where he first saw her in her raven form. "I apologize for trying to go through the files. I was hoping to find the name of the owner." He looked the girl over, studying her features. She was a stark contrast to his own mortal body. Her wild clothing is eye catching, where as his suit, shoes, pants, belt, shirt, tie, and coat, are all simple black. "You are looking for Abraxus as well?" He asked softly.

She nodded like a bobble-head doll. "Oh totally! See, I just came from Sacramento and some dudes tried to grab me. I thought it was the Feds...cause they do stuff like that, ya know? Anyway, they had this gnarly tattoo. Both of them, can you imagine? I mean I wouldn't want ink at all, but to get the same one? That's just weird." She paused for a breath, barely.

"Unless they were boyfriends or something." She shook her head and ruffled her hair, causing a myriad of bangle bracelets to jingle pleasantly. "But I thought maybe I could duck in here and hang with Abraxus....but he's gone and if he's gone...someone took him too." She asserted. “Cause he never goes anywhere.”

He frowned. If this girl was right, and somebody took Abraxus, then that was troubling news indeed. "What do you know of the man, Abraxus, child? How did you come to learn of him?" He spoke to her as he walked back toward the second room of the shop. He kept his eyes open, scanning the room while he waited for a response from Jinx.

Jinx skipped after him when he moved away from her, "Hey wait! Who are you? I mean it's kinda normal when someone tells you their name that you tell them your name back." She tilted her head in that curious bird-like motion she seemed to favor. "I mean, unless you really are a serial killer, cause you wouldn't want anyone to know your name and stuff. But, I can totally tell that's not what you are. Cause I'm good like that."

She turned around and placed the stickered laptop on Abraxus' desk once more. Popping it open, her fingers fly over the keyboard. She called out over her shoulder, "Abraxus sorta raised me. Had absentee parents, you know? I literally got lost and found this place when I was 7. He made greatest blueberry scones." She paused, "What about you? And why'd you call me 'Child'? I mean, I am over twenty-one and stuff. I don't have any ID or anything, not legal stuff anyway. But, I really am over twenty-one." Her voice was bright and lilting, seemingly always on the edge of a joke.

"I apologize. I wasn't meaning to be rude or disrespectful," He said as he knelt down to run his hand across the worn down, ancient carpet covering the floor near the old trestle that passed as a dining room table. "When you get to be my age, you will probably call everybody you see 'child' yourself." For the moment, he ignored her questions about his name. No need to get into such things just yet.

Something about the scene bothered him. Nothing that he saw so much, but rather, something that he sensed. Something about the energy of the place is wrong. With these mortal eyes, he knew he could not see the flow of ambient energies in the world. But, there are ways around such limitations. From where he knelt on the floor, the visitor closed his eyes, lowered his head, and folded his hands. He spoke softly... quietly... the words barely above a thin whisper.
"Heavenly father, grant your faithful servant Sight so he may shine your light of truth upon the lies of this world. In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti."

When he opened his eyes again, the world around him had shifted subtly. He could see faint traces of energy in the air around him. They looked remarkably similar to motes of dust seen through a ray of sunshine in a dark room. All except that each trace was brightly colored, identifying the auras of the energies in his vision. Most of the building was covered with a fine, powder blue haze. This indicated Abraxus' own aura, and the life energy of his home. But, a great stain of deep, blood red could be made out cutting through the faint blue, a mark of evil in the home of a being of good.

He stood once more, quickly turning back to the doorway, so he could speak to Jinx. "We do have a problem. I believe you were right, and Abraxus was taken. I-" His words were cut short as he turned gaze toward her. Her aura was unlike anything he's seen before. When he looked at Jinx, he could see her human form quite distinctly. But, seeming to loom over her was a dark shadow in the shape of a demon. Huge wings bat-like wings spread from its back and clawed hands mimicked her movements at her keyboard. At the shadow’s head was a huge bird's head with an enormous and sharply menacing beak.

Unaware that the visitor was staring at her, Jinx’s fingers fly over her laptop and she whoops suddenly. "Got it!" She spun the screen so he could see the mark of the Illuminati...only altered. "That's it! That's the tattoo those guys had!" She looked up at his face, then faltered and blinked at him oddly..."Um...did you know that your eyes are glowing?"

The visitor knew that no mortal would have seen the divine light of the blessing in his eyes. He took a step back, as he reexamined the girl, this time seeing her true form, her hidden self... the monster that exists alongside her human shape. "I had thought you were merely skilled at self Transmutation." His voice was suddenly louder, nearly booming and echoing in the small room of the shop. A wind picked up from nowhere, as he began to concentrate his power, ready to defend himself against this creature. "But, you are not even human."

Jinx's eyes grew wide when his voice suddenly took on a booming tone. She put her hands up as if to stop him, but other than rising to her feet, she made no other sudden movements. "Whoa, whoa. Whoa! Wait a minute! I never said I was human! What're you doing? Don't go all Hulk on me!" Shifting slightly, she tried to ease around to the far side of the desk, as if that might protect her. She babbled quickly, "You aren't the bad guy, I'm not the bad guy...uh...can we talk about this?" She kept backing away, talking fast. "Look...you're a friend of Abraxus...me too...I can help you find him. Yeah. You need me....I hope....but... seriously...I can track...um....shit."

The visitor stopped moving, standing still rather than slowly stalking toward the girl. She wasn’t attacking... she wasn’t raising energy to defend herself... and she was afraid. His brows knitted into another frown. Demons are very, very rarely afraid, and certainly would not be of the pitiful divinity he could put forth in his current state. Slowly, he relaxed slightly, letting the collected divine energy fade from his body to disperse back into the world around him. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on removing the blessing that gave him Sight, and when he opened them again, the room, as well as the girl, appeared normal once more. "You, Miss Jinx, are not just some random creature of the supernatural. You are of Lilith’s brood... a demon. Am I right?"

Jinx smiled nervously, still tensed to flee if need be. But, she nodded, "Yeah." She shrugs, "Like I said, absentee parents." She looked almost apologetic. "You must play for the other team...I'm guessing?" She began to straighten slowly, sensing him 'powering down'. She fairly tiptoed back to the laptop. "But...the tattoo? Um...I found it...pretty good, huh?" She was looking for some praise obviously. "I can help...seriously."

He considered the girl for some time, full minutes of silence, staring not at the picture of the tattoo on the laptop screen, but rather, into her eyes. It was said that the eyes are the windows to the soul... but, he had found that a great deal can be learned of even creatures without souls, if one took the time to look. In those quiet minutes, he contemplated his current problem. The fact that Abraxus was missing was troublesome to him, personally. The old man was a friend, and had been for many, many years. Yet, finding him would take precious time away from his greater mission; from his quest to return home. The simple fact of the matter was if he turned his back on a friend, in their time of need... then he didn't deserve to return to His loving embrace.

Coming to that final conclusion, he stepped forward, extending his hand to the demon girl. "My name is Verchiel... and yes... I am an Angel of the Lord."

Jinx stared back at Verchiel, but fidgeted nervously. Amazingly, she met his penetrating gaze willingly. "Verchiel...and yeah. I got the Angel part. I could totally tell when you came in." She suddenly grinned brilliantly and tapped her temple with a slender finger. "You kinda glow all over." She observed. "I've never met an Angel before." She tilted her head finally and then accepted his hand, giving it a light squeeze. "I thought you'd be taller." She added in an off-handed manner.

The visitor looked slightly offended by the comment. "I... it's just... the mortal body... has its limitations. I can not help that." Pulling his hand away, he turned to the laptop. "If the men who attempted to take you, the ones wearing this mark, also took Abraxus, then you are lucky to have escaped. I don't know if you are aware, but Abraxus is no more human than either of us. There are planes in this universe where that old man is considered something of a lesser deity. He made his home here because he liked the food... or so he told me once."

Jinx was delighted by Verchiel's discomfiture. It made her more comfortable suddenly. She fairly hopped forward so she could see the screen image too. "Yeah? I was clever! I was daring! I..." She grinned again and admitted, "I ran like hell." She paused, "Who are they? It looks like the Illuminati symbol, but it's different." She nodded at his pronouncement about Abraxus' true worth. "Yeah, I know about him. He helped me sorta break ranks. I don't really belong in hell...it sucks. All that manipulating and back stabbing and ladder climbing. Corporate politics, at its finest, you know? Not for me."
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Salvation Empty Re: Salvation

Post by Digital Muse Sun May 22, 2011 8:33 pm

"I do not know who they are, which, is rather troubling. I was one of the Potestates. Of the Order of Powers, of the Third Choir. A keeper of history. I should know." He stared at the screen for some minutes more, before turning on his heel, and heading back behind the counter. He grabbed up two large paper bags, the kind that Abraxus uses to bundle up his customers purchases, and stepped into the back room once again. "We must assume that these people are dangerous. The fact that you share a connection to Abraxus may be key to his abduction, since you were targeted as well. Though, there is every chance that you and he may simply be the latest victims of this group." He walked up and down the bookcases in the back room, reaching up to grab ancient tomes and blood scribed books of lore, placing them into the paper bags as he moves down the rows. When he finishes, about eight books in all are in his bags, and he steps back out in to the main room.

"Could you tell if the men who attacked you were mortal, or some sort of supernatural creature?" He asked as he selected books.

Jinx hopped along after him, noting the books he's taking curiously. She gave the impression that little she saw was ever forgotten. "WOW! A Posetat-whatzit. What're you doing here? I mean....this is kinda slumming it for you, isn't it? Or are you on a mission? Is it a secret? You can tell me! I never tell secrets...unless they're bad guys, then I tell everyone. But that's totally not you. I can tell." The girl never shut up. At his question, she paused, then shook her head, "Nope. Mortal. But they were prepared. They know about Vamps and Lycans and stuff. They thought I was a shape-shifter and tried to throw a silver net over me. Didn't work, but they are looking for inhuman critters."

The visitor set the bags of books down on the counter, and reached for the small gas lamp. Taking the lamp in his hand, he closed his eyes, saying a silent prayer that his friend is still alive and well, and that the mortals who took him had not killed him already. "I am not on a mission. I live here. I have for over sixty years. Ever since the day I Fell." Only a second after he spoke that last word, he turned around, and hurled the gas lamp against one of the bookcases in the back room. It shattered against the wood and books spreading the fire quickly in its wake. The old books acted like fuel soaked tinder for its flame. Verchiel turned back to Jinx, with a very serious look on his face. "We really should leave before the mortal authorities arrive."

"Sixty years? But what..." her next question was cut off as she watched in horror when the Angel smashed the old-fashioned oil lamp against the books. She shrieked in outrage. "All Abraxus' books! What are you doing? Are you insane? There's irreplaceable knowledge stored here!" She wheeled on him, "He is so going to kick your butt!" She grabbed up her precious laptop and a Hello Kitty backpack and sprinted for the door, shouting dire punishments upon Verchiel's head.

The former Angel followed the irate demon out to the street, where she was still shouting at him, condemning his actions. Finally, he raised his hand, trying to force her to be silent for just a moment. "Fire is eternal, and as such, it does not truly consume anything. Abraxus will be able to rebuild his collection. My actions were merely to hide the 'irreplaceable knowledge' of demons, angels, and world ending magic... from the mortals."

Cut off in mid-tirade, by Verchiel's raised hand. She just looked confused, "Fire doesn't consume? Are you off your rocker? Ever seen a body burnt up? I have. It consumes plenty!" She stomped away and back again to lift up on her toes so she can wag a skinny finger in his face. "You are...are....so grounded!" She finished lamely. "C'mon! I'll drive. Man!" She stomped away again, heading for a battered mini cooper with suspiciously wide tires and chrome exhaust. All the way she muttered about “High and Mighty Angels doing whatever they want and never mind what anyone else thinks...." The rest was muffled as she climbs into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut.



Verchiel allowed himself a very, very small smile, which made him appear quite handsome. But he quickly forced his face back to a neutral expression as he stepped up to the car. He opened the door, and tossed the bags of books behind the passenger seat before getting in himself. "You did not recoil at the minor displays of divinity I was able to summon in the shop. How are you with handling larger divine energies? I know that some demons are more easily harmed by such things than others."

Jinx started the car engine and it sounded far more powerful than would be normal for such a small vehicle. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, threw the little car it into gear, then pulled away from the curb before answering. "I didn't want to get hurt and have to start a war by taking you on. You weren't the bad guy....Abraxus was more important." She answered logically. Jinx drove on for a time, miraculously silent until they came to a stop light. "And what do you mean by larger divine energies? I mean what do you know that I should know? Who's snatching freaks?" She smoothly pulled ahead when the light changed and continued, "I dunno....I never met an Angel before and Mom wasn't exactly forth-coming with stuff like that.....we don't talk much."

"There are two reasons I ask.” He said, “One, as you said, the symbol tattooed on your attackers was much like the Illuminati insignia. If there is a relation between the groups, they may well have some way of attacking demons using their Faith. It is not unheard of in the history of Man for a mortal's faith to be enough to overcome a demon. Secondly... I was going to suggest we hide in a church, as to mask your particular aura from detection. But, if you are unsure of your tolerance for the divine, we should avoid that. I can most likely work a sufficient mask myself, when we get where we are going."

Jinx blinked, "Illuminati? I dunno....why change the image? Maybe they're trying to pin it on the Illuminati or they're an off-shoot group....something." She failed to hide the shudder at the suggestion of hiding in a church, "Yeah. Can that idea. Not my sorta place....I'm sure you can understand why. All that holy water and prayer and stuff" Her nose wrinkles comically as she concentrates on the road. Jinx considered, "They didn't know about me...thought I was a Lycan cause they tried to use silver. That's how I got away. Besides, any idiot knows that Were-Ravens aren't affected by silver but are with gold. So these guys don't totally have their ducks in a row...yet. If they're the same ones that grabbed Abraxus....they had to have hurt him." That made her fall silent.

Verchiel nodded. An offshoot group. That did make the most sense, with the information they had thus far. "We must assume that they will be ready to face you next time you meet. If a time comes that you feel threatened, you should leave the city. Fly as far as you can, and stay away." He leaned back, closed his eyes, and tried to let the information at their hands fall into place in his mind. There was not nearly enough to simply solve the problem at present... but certainly enough to give them a start. "We need to find these people. When you said you could track things, how did you mean? In this reality? Or the Virtual one?"

They pulled into a driveway of a metal warehouse where Jinx hit the electronic garage door opener clipped to her visor. "Actually? Both. I have contacts all over. Not everyone's on the web." She pulls into the warehouse's dark interior. She pulled forward until Verchiel could feel the front wheels settle onto a pressure plate on the concrete floor. As soon as she put the little car into park, the lights came up in an interior space that filled the entire small warehouse. One third was given over to vehicles; the Mini and a motorcycle. The floor space was made up of a living area with seemingly randomly placed 8 foot walls that separated the living area into kitchen, living room, offices, bathroom and bedrooms. He couldn’t see the back portion of the warehouse, but his innate sense told him they were very near the water.

"Impressive." Verchiel stepped out of the car, and scanned the apartment. It was nicer than most of the places he spent the night. He stared at the four walls of the building, and realized that, while the building was probably secure in the mundane sense, the people who encountered Jinx earlier could still find them. He turned to her and asked softly, "I need something sharp. May I borrow a knife of some sort?"

Jinx retrieved her laptop and back pack from the back of her car, and then headed to the living room with a bright grin. “I always wanted my own Bat Cave.” She glanced back at Verchiel with a quirked brow. "Uh, sure...in the kitchen." Turning her attention back her laptop, she got busy with her search of files, blogs, bulletin boards and more for more 'disappearances'. She peeked toward Verchiel frequently to make sure he didn't feel the need to rid the world of one particular skinny demon.
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Salvation Empty Re: Salvation

Post by Digital Muse Sun May 22, 2011 8:34 pm

In the kitchen, Verchiel found a sharp knife in one of the drawers. He set it down on the counter, and turned to look at Jinx, catching her as she kept peeking toward him. He turned to face her, and locked his eyes with her own. "Faith can move mountains. Faith can cure illness. Faith can change the world. And more importantly, for the moment... Faith can protect. There are magics older than even the race of demon that draw their power from Faith, and deep belief. These magics are shaped not by words, or blessings, or charms... but by blood."

He raised his arms, and slowly, methodically unfastened the buttons on the wrists of his shirt sleeves. Rolling back the sleeve past his elbow on each arm, he grasped the knife tightly in his right hand, before moving towards a skeptical-looking Jinx. "I can protect us, while we are here. I can hide your energies from scrying. I can enact magics that should make those looking for you simply miss this building as they search the city. But, in order to do that..." He stalked forward, coming to just within feet of the demon. Holding the knife in his hand, the muscles in his bare forearms tense as if ready to strike, "... I need blood." He murmured gently.

Once again, Jinx's alarm bells clanged incessantly inside her head. Her eyes grew huge as they fix on the knife. "Uh...Verchiel? What are you talking about?" She rose to crouch on the sofa in case she needed to leap aside. Maybe the angel was nuts...."Dude...what are you doing?"

Verchiel stood still, staring at the girl, he drew his lips back in a snarl and made a sudden feint towards her. Then, suddenly, he stopped, and a wide smile crossed his face. "If it's not too much trouble, would you please prepare some food? Something high in sugar. I don't actually have to eat, but, I am going to have to use a fair bit of blood, and the sugar helps this mortal body replenish its supply." With that, he turned to walk past Jinx, heading to the nearest wall of the loft apartment. Once there, he spaced his feet, and stood firmly. Closing his eyes, Verchiel muttered a prayer to The Father as he dragged the tip of the blade across his forearm. Blood flowed freely from the wound, welling up and spilling from his arm down to the floor at his feet with steady drips. That done, he placed the knife in his left hand so he could dip the middle three fingers of his right hand in the pool on his forearm. Then, as if a master artist, with brush in hand, and a blank canvas before him, he began to draw. He used Angelic Script... Sigils and seals, spelling out a prayer for protection, written in his own blood, and powered by his Faith.

When Verchiel feinted toward her, Jinx fairly leapt over the back of the couch in terror. But, then he smiled mischievously at her. Her shoulders drop their tension and she scowled at him, "Asshole." Briefly, she watched him while as he cuts himself then began to paint her walls with his blood and magic. She headed toward the kitchen muttering ominously, "Serves him right to eat my cooking for being a dick." Not being much of a homebody, Jinx excavated a few frozen pizzas from her freezer and popped them into her oven. Next, she made a pitcher of Kool-aid with extra sugar in it. Tasting it, she grinned, "Hey! That's...“ She turns to his back, "This is pretty good!"

It took the Angel several minutes to finish painting one wall and, more than half an hour to finish all four. The limitations of a mortal body, he thought, chuckling with mild frustration. It slowed down as it lost blood. Once all four walls are finished, and the prayers said, Verchiel staggered forward, towards where Jinx retrieved their makeshift meal from the oven. "Do you have a first aid kit? Something I can wrap my arm in?"

Jinx watched the Angel stagger and moved to meet him half way. She put her arm around his waist and it is then that he can feel her hidden strength. "Here, I gotcha." She helped him to a stool at the island in the kitchen area. She eyed his wounded arm and licked her lips unconsciously. "Um...don't get freaked out... OK?" She peeked up into his face and dipped her fingers into the wound. Jinx closed her eyes when his arm suddenly burns as if on fire. But as he watched, it began to knit closed painfully, leaving behind a vicious scar. Jinx let go of him and stepped away quickly, in case he turned violent. Pretending nothing odd had just happened, Jinx poured the sugary drink into a glass for him. She was clearly embarrassed as she hands him the glass.

Verchiel gasped in pain as the unseen fire burned across his flesh, but as it dies down to a dull ache, he looked at the scar, and his eyes go wide. He accepted the Kool-Aid from Jinx, and after draining half the glass in a single gulp, he asked her "How did you do that?"

She shrugged, trying to pass off complete nonchalance, "That whole famine, disease, pestilence, death thing? I figured out how to reverse the disease one." Jinx cleared her throat, embarrassed. "I'm working on the other ones." She turned her back to him to cut the pizzas. Once they're cut, she slid them onto the island. "I can't replace the blood, though. You're on your own there."

"I appreciate all the help you can give, young Jinx. The blood would be replaced far faster than the cut would have healed." Verchiel drank down half of his glass of Kool-aid in a single gulp. The mixture was far too sweet for his liking, but the sugar is necessary. The pizza filled his empty stomach nicely, helping to replace the energy that he’d lost binding the blood magic to protect the loft. "When we are done here, you should reach out to your contacts. Try to find a new group, or people with the tattoo marking them."

Jinx managed, somehow, to put away a nauseating amount of the sweet Kool-aid and nearly an entire pizza by herself in record time. Food appeared to be the only time she was silent. More or less. When Verchiel suggested tracking the tattoo, she nodded, mumbling around her last mouthful of pizza. "Yeah, been working on that already." She hopped down from the barstool and fairly bounced to her closed laptop. Sweeping it up, she returned to open it next to Verchiel. The screen showed a minimum of 15 open windows all apparently searching files or something as they continually flashed to different screens or pictures or text every few seconds. It was a phenomenally powerful search she must have been running. "I've been searching the tattoo design itself, tattoo parlors, police records, hospital records and even magazines and bulletin boards." She fairly gloated, "Wicked, huh?"

"Wicked?" The Angel raised an eyebrow at her use of the word. "Are you saying this is infernal sorcery of some kind? I have no objection to using such tactics, so long as no being came to harm to power the spell."

Jinx gaped at the Angel. "Sorcery? I'm good...but I'm not using magic. That's too damned easy to trace, my clueless friend." She patted the side of the laptop case, "I have learned and studied and wrote some of the best software available. I make a living with this." Again that grin appears. "I can make a computer sit up and bark, my friend." A few swift keystrokes pop up yet another window without interrupting the searches still running. She peered at the report, her finger following the lines as she read them. "Hmmm. a few arrests for B&E, one gunshot victim, no tat artist listed as actually doing the ink....definitely an offshoot of the Illuminati, though. Unofficially official, if you get my drift. They’re probably, the 'janitorial' branch; kind of the guys that clean up the messes."

Verchiel leaned back, raising his hand to his head to massage his temples with his thumb and forefinger. He barely understood half of what she was talking about. Having lost his divine knowledge of all history at the moment of his Fall, he never did gain insight on the use of computers. Anything beyond Google was a mystery to him."Does that infernal machine tell you where we may find them? Or where they are holding Abraxus?"

Jinx noted Verchiel massaging his temples as if developing a headache. "Why does everyone do that?" She wondered aloud. She just doesn't understand that her incessant chatter could give a statue a headache.

She looked the report over once more. "Well, the police report and the hospital records both list an address. We can check that out first, but I doubt it'll be a valid address." She read a bit further and whooped suddenly.

"Jackpot! A supply store, for 'herbs and cosmic enlightenment' registered a sale of Rohipnol." She grinned and bounced with excitement. "That's gotta be a clue! And it's like 2 blocks from the address for one of the tattoo guys!"

Verchiel nodded.” It is a place to start, at least. "Good work, Child. You've found the first stone on the path before us. We will follow it where it may lead."

Jinx rolled her eyes at him, much like a child would when a parent said something inane. "I am not a Child. I'm over 21. By a lot. My name is Jinx." She corrected him petulantly. She snapped the laptop closed and shoved the sticker-encrusted thing into her brilliant backpack. "So. Mystery address first and then the shop or straight to the shop?"

"I believe we should inquire at the shop first. We may discover that there is nothing suspicious about the purchase to begin with. Or, we may find that what we suspect is merely the tip of the sword." He casts his gaze around the loft, checking each of the four blood seals on the walls. "The magics protecting us will last for at least full night and day. I do not know if you need rest, young one, but I have been traveling for several weeks, and my mortal body is tired."

"Oh." She sounded disappointed. Looking him over, she pursed her lips. "Fine. I don't get tired much." She frowned in thought, and then asked, "How come you do? What's the deal?" She dug her laptop out of her bag, opened it and revealed the search still going as it was before. Barely taking a breath, Jinx just kept going, "I mean, you're an Angel. You shouldn't get tired, right? Or need healing." She looked up at him, "How come I had to heal you and just what are you doing down here? You're kinda a long way from home, ain't you?" She tapped away on her laptop, then rubs her nose absently, "What level are you in. In heaven I mean? Warrior? Guardian? Judicial? What?"

The Angel closed his eyes. In his mind, a simple debate was playing out between two of his inner voices. One wanted to keep his secrets from this demon... this spawn of hell. She should not know of his past. The other, the side that he had come to accept as his mortal humanity, spoke against the first. She was helping him and as far as he knew she has taken no action that would put another being into harm. She had proven herself trustworthy thus far. After a few moments, the human side of him won out. "When we first introduced ourselves, I told you I was of the Order of Powers, of the Third Sphere. Our tasks were many and varied, but, mostly dealt with three things. We are the keepers of history over His Kingdom. We distributed power among the mortals of the Earth. And we acted as the first line of defense against demonic attack, protecting the paths leading between Heaven and Earth."

She nodded as Verchiel explained, and then tapped her own temple, "Yeah. I got all that before." She grinned infectiously, "I got a nearly eidetic memory." To prove it, she repeated his words back to him perfectly mimicking his voice and inflection. She giggled riotously at her little 'trick'. "I can do that with darned near any voice or sound. It's amazingly handy, you know." A few more keystrokes occupy her for a few seconds before the barrage of questions continue. "So you were sent here for what? I mean, I busted out, personally. What's your story?"

"It's... embarrassing, to speak the truth." The Angel drank back another gulp of sugar filled beverage, before resting both of his hands on the counter top and leaning forward. "It was nearly eighty years ago, by Earth time. The Powers are tasked with distributing authority among the mortals of this world. I was... given an order from my commander that I could not follow. And was thus, banished."

Jinx devoured several slices of pizza as Verchiel told his tale. When he finally confessed to refusing to obey orders, she lit up and laughed raucously. She extended a fist toward him to bump knuckles in solidarity, grinning. "My brother! Way to lay the smack down on those sanctimonious so and so's!" She giggled again, "Maybe there's hope for you after all." She pronounced.

Verchiel shook his head, "You do not understand, Child." He leaned back, staring blankly at her raised fist for a moment, a curious expression on his face, before he looked her in the eye. "I was ordered to grant a significant portion of authority to the National Socialist German Workers' Party. I was tasked with granting Adolf Hitler everything he would need in order to conquer Europe."

Jinx blinked when Verchiel ignores her offered fist. "Humph!" She snorted before continuing with stuffing her face. "So what?" She reasoned. "Maybe it was a test. You know, will you go against orders if you know they're wrong. And when you do what they hope you do..." She looked up briefly, "You know. The right thing? They slap you down for your troubles." She waved a dismissive hand, "Bible's full of that sort of stuff. Look at poor ol' Job. I mean seriously!"

"Job was tested, by God himself. Confronted by God himself. Used as proof against the strength of corruption, by God himself. Were it my Father who had commanded me as such, I would not have hesitated to fulfill His orders. But I was not convinced that the command came from Him. I do not believe that He would have given power to a man who brutally destroyed millions of His faithful children." Verchiel closed his eyes, taking a breath of air, deep into his mortal lungs. "I was banished without being granted an audience at His Throne. I was banished, not by His will, but by the Angels above me."
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Salvation Empty Re: Salvation

Post by Digital Muse Sun May 22, 2011 8:34 pm

Jinx smiled slyly. "Isn't God omniscient?" She danced a little and sings the old Christmas jingle as she cleared the dishes, "He knows when you've been sleeping. He knows when you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or good. So be good for goodness sakes." Obviously taunting the angel with her logic.

"Do not tease me, Child." His words escape his lips with a bitter edge to them. "The true workings of God are beyond the understanding of one such as you. Beyond even those in the First Choir of Angels. I do not doubt He knows of my situation. But, there are many rules in His Kingdom, which even he must follow. He cannot simply reach down from On High, and scoop me back up into His loving embrace."

She shrugged at his argument, "He makes the rules. He can do whatever he wants to. Maybe you're supposed to be here, smart boy." Despite his warning, her spirits were not dampened. She was also obviously enjoying Verchiel's discomfort a great deal. It tickled her sense of irony that Verchiel had been thrown out of heaven and she broke out of hell and both were connected by one man. Abraxus.

"You cannot judge others by their actions and you by your intentions." The Angel continued to glare at the Demon. She was having far too much fun at his expense. "What kind of Father would He be, if He created this governing body of rules, and then simply refused to follow them whenever He found them incontinent?"

She shrugged. "A normal one?" Jauntily, she returned to the island and hopped onto the stool next to the conflicted Angel. "How do you know I'm wrong in my interpretation of your predicament? Hmmmmmm?"

"I know nothing of the sort, Child. Your logic is sound. There is no evidence to dispute your arguments. For all I... know... you could be right." He paused for a moment, glancing up to meet her eyes as she sits next to him. When he spoke again, the sharp edge was gone from his voice. "But, I have Faith."

Jinx grinned brilliantly and clapped Verchiel on his back sharply. "Good for you! I don't. I think 'He' is one sadistic bastard. But hey." She shrugged her skinny shoulders and changed the subject, confident she had the right spin on Verchiel's situation. "So, kiddo. What do you want to tackle next? Crystal and rock shop or something else?"

"Yes, the shop is the next step. I do require rest, however. We should continue on our journey in the morning." He casts his gaze around the loft apartment. "Do you have a place I may sleep?"

Jinx grinned mischievously and looked toward the ceiling. "What? Don't you just hang from the rafters?" She snapped her fingers, "Oh wait! That's Vampires. I keep mixing you guys up." She then just waved airily around the apartment. "Pick a perch, my friend. I'll be up most of the night tracking the drug and see if there's other kidnappings."

"Thank you, Jinx. For both the meal and your hospitality." Verchiel pushed himself up from the stool weakly, and it is only as he stands that he could feel how tired his mortal body had become. The divine power he channeled to intimidate Jinx earlier in Abraxus' shop, coupled with the blood loss, and the energy needed to power the Blood Seals, had drained him dangerously. He wandered to the nearest suitable location, the couch just outside the kitchen area of the loft, and lay down on his back. Sleep came quickly as soon as he closed his eyes.

Jinx watched Verchiel when he goes to lie on her couch. She giggled when he fell asleep so quickly, "They're so cute when they're sleeping. And their gums aren't flapping." She observed before turning back to her computer search of obscure newspaper articles, bulletin boards, and online advertisements even hacking the police records to find cases of missing persons that might be connected with their case.


Two cases caught her attention. Reading between the lines, she found a Fae woman that had been ritualistically butchered. And a werewolf child kidnapped almost immediately after the failed attempt on Jinx. That made her curse softly. "Awww damn it." She printed out the cases for Verchiel to read in the morning. Or rather...in about an hour.

The Angel did not sleep long. Though he was required to surrender to the 'mortal' weaknesses such as eating, breathing, and resting, he needed far less than any human. He woke after just two hours, feeling well rested and refreshed. He sat up on the couch, and for a moment, Verchiel was confused by his surroundings. Then, as he glanced at the demon girl, hunched over her small laptop computer machine, the realization of where he was hit him, along with the memories of the last day. He sighed, and rubbed his weary mortal eyes with the back of his hands.

Jinx glance up from the greenish glow of her laptop monitor when she heard Verchiel sigh. In a cheery voice, she asserted, "Yep. Still here. Lucky you!" She then waved the copies of the cases she'd located. "Here's a little light reading for you, Angel-eyes. I don't recognize the ritual shit around the Fae woman. Maybe you can interpret it while I catch a shower?"

Verchiel nodded. "Of course. Ritual magic is old magic. I was a Keeper of History. I should be able to recognize it. Just as long as I can avoid using these machines the mortals are so fond of." He stood slowly, stretching the stiffness from his back. The couch had been comfortable, but too short for his tall frame. He had been forced to curl up to sleep. He moved towards the demon girl, and reached out to take the pages she holds out to him. Immediately, his eyes fall to the paper to begin reading.

Jinx handed off the sheaf of papers and then put her laptop aside. It continued to flip through dozens of files still set on a search Jinx had set it upon. Hopping to her feet like a marionette jerked to its feet by an invisible puppeteer, she scruffed her wild, razored hair. "Dude. You're gonna be here a while. Better get with the program and learn to get along without sticking out like a sore thumb. The more you blend in, the better off you'll be and the less likely you'll end up in a rubber room for the 'good of public safety'. With that pronouncement, she danced toward the shower in the other room humming 'No more Mr. Nice Guy' by Alice Cooper off key.

The Angel read; turning to the next sheet of paper every few seconds as he drew in the details of the information Jinx had supplied him. Though his body was mortal, his mind is still that of a Power... a Keeper of History. It took him only a minute or two to finish everything she handed him. When he looks up, his face goes through a very mortal physical reaction. He paled at the implications of what he just read. He stood and walked quickly after Jinx, bringing the papers with him. He didn't even register the sound of the shower running as he pushed open the door into the washroom. He stepped forward, his eyes focused down on the pages detailing the killing of the Fae woman, and he reached out, pulling back the brightly colored shower curtain with a jerk. "Are these descriptions of the body accurate? Are you sure this is how she really died?"

Jinx had been singing at the top of her lungs...badly. She was enthusiastic, but far from talented. Holding the handheld shower like a microphone, she gyrated and played to an imaginary crowd as if on stage before a wildly appreciative audience. When Verchiel innocently jerked the shower curtain open, Jinx shrieked in shocked anger and turned the water on the intruder as if shooting him. She stumbled back, still spraying Verchiel with water, but recovered quickly. "Hey! What the hell?! I know I'm irresistible and stuff, but dayum! You scared me half to death!" She turned the water off, grabbed a towel to wrap around her head and stomped off to the bedroom muttering, "Honestly, can't a girl even trust an Angel...of course not...*mutter mutter

Verchiel did not move as she sprayed him defensively with the showerhead. He simply held the papers high, keeping them out of the stream of water. He interrupted her when she starts muttering at him. "Jinx! I need to know if these are accurate!" He followed her out of the bathroom, and through the loft, staying just a foot or so behind her as she moves. His shirt and pants are soaked, but, that is of little concern at the moment.

Her voice is muffled as she pulls a sweater over her head with the towel still wrapped around it. "I don't know! I just pulled the text files! Jesus! Get a grip!" Finally getting the sweater pulled down, she headed to a dresser to get a pair of bright turquoise panties. She stepped into them and wriggled them up over her rump and hips. "Why? What's the deal?"

The Angel stepped forward, once again completely invading her personal space. He held the papers up to show her the pictures of the murdered Fae woman. "Jinx, this is extremely important! If this is accurate, then the ritual used to kill this woman is almost as ancient as the blood magic I used to protect this building! It is a ritual of Power, specifically, of Binding. Whoever did this would have been able to remove the essence of her power, and store it in a container of some sort for transport. They stole her power, Jinx!"

Jinx actually backed up a little when Verchiel crowded her in his insistence that she take him seriously. She pressed her fingertips against his chest to push him back a little. "Ok. OK, Conan! Don't get your knickers in a twist." She huffed at him softly, then skirted around him to head back into the living area and her laptop. Climbing onto the couch and sitting cross-legged, she called up the case of the murdered Fae woman. This time she accessed all pictures connected to it, crime scene, autopsy, even a news feed with pictures and film of the curious crowd at the edges of the crime scene. She peered at it for what seems like an eternity before shrugging. "OK. You're right. So it's one of yours or one of mine. But what's their plan?"

He shook his head. "I cannot imagine an Angel going through with such a barbaric ritual. One of my brethren could have simply slew the woman, in any number of ways. I believe this act to be one of the utmost evil." Verchiel lowered his eyes, forcing his mind to process information, and recall facts he learned long ago. "Abraxus once suggested to me that he could bind the powers of an Angel to my mortal body, thus granting me my divinity. I assumed he was merely jesting. However, what if it was no joke. If he is capable of such a feat, would it not stand to reason that he would be able to bind the power of a Fae to another being?"

Jinx made a face at Verchiel. "Don't go pointing fingers so fast, Sherlock. Satan was once an Angel too, after all." She reminded him. "But." She continued, "I think you've got the idea right. Someone wants power. All of it. That means they need a victim from every supernatural genus. Vampires, Weres, Fae, Ghosts, Demons..." She glanced up to her guest, "Angel." She frowned, "But the guys that tried to grab me had no idea I wasn't a Lycan. They screwed up....someone sent them..." She stopped, "How could someone screw that up?" She ruffled her wild hair, "How'd they know I wasn't human in the first place, if they didn't know what I was?"

"I could not guess why they were unaware of your status. Though, I doubt you were a target for them to use in the spell, Child." He leaned back, only now truly stepping out of Jinx's comfort zone. "If they took Abraxus with the intent of having him perform a Power Binding... they would need something to force his hand. He is not, by nature, a creature of good... but he is by no stretch of the imagination, evil. He would not simply grant such power to anybody. Unless they were able to force him."

Jinx barely seems to register when Verchiel steps back from her finally. Her agile mind was still mulling things over. "That wiley old bastard! He sent them! Abraxus told them I was a Lycan to get me on their trail!" She leapt to her feet stomping around in anger. "OOoooh! I'm going to kill him....soon as you save him!"

Verchiel glared down at the girl, his lips curling back in a snarl. "I have no intention of allowing you to harm him in any way, Demon."

Jinx stopped dead in her rant and looked up in compete surprise. She then explode into a riotous fit of laughter. She gripped his shoulders, hanging on while she laughed uncontrollably. Slowly, so slowly, she got herself under control. "Save your breath, Superman." She laughed some more, "Oh. Oh god! You're a hoot! How long have you been here? 60 years? What the hell...pardon the pun...have you been doing that whole time? Living under a rock? I mean seriously! It's a figure of speech for Christ's sakes!" She wiped her eyes of hysterical tears, "You're like a new born babe...how on Earth have you survived this long? Seriously. I really want to know!"

He stared at her as she laughed, and raised an eyebrow as she tells him off in her own, charming, way. "If you do not intend to do him harm, then we can dismiss with my warning. Though, I must ask you to refrain from using the Son's name in such a manner, if you please."

Jinx straightened and rolled her eyes when Verchiel admonishes her for her cursing. "Whatever, Gideon." Changing the subject, she nodded, "So. You wanna shower before we head out?" She peered at him over her slender shoulder, "That is a ritual that humans do that you should become familiar with. I'll teach you others as we go."

"Cleanliness is next to Godliness. It is not a ritual you need teach me, Child." With that, he heads for the shower room, to take his turn. The surprising parting shot, caught Jinx off-guard and made her grin after his retreating back. "Feather-head's got some balls after all." She murmured to herself. While she waited, she downloaded the shop's coordinates into her GPS and sent out a message to the preternatural communities via innocuous bulletin boards warning of the possible kidnappings, advising extreme caution along with a contact email for her. She didn't think any information would come from the email, but she liked to cover all her bases. If she had time, she'd set up an attack on the FBI and NSA files to see if they had anything relevant to this case. But that required a great deal of planning and other hackers to help. She really hoped she wouldn’t have to go that far.

In ten minutes, Verchiel emerged from the shower room, fully dressed, a stark contrast to the demon's own naked stride to the bedroom. The heat of the shower had helped his mortal body to relax, and removed a great deal of the strain the night on the couch caused him. "Are we ready to go, Child?"
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Salvation Empty Re: Salvation

Post by Digital Muse Sun May 22, 2011 8:35 pm

Jinx groaned at the 'Child'. But, continued to stuff her be-stickered laptop into her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. "If we're gonna work together, you're going to have to drop the superior attitude. You're in my world now. You are the student, I am the master." She grins, "You got that, Tonto?"

He resisted the urge to ask what a 'tonto' is. Instead, he stared at the girl, and speaks in a clear tone. "This is God's world, not yours. All worlds were created by Him, and all belong to Him. Though, I suppose I can think of you as a... tour guide, for the time being."

Jinx just face-palmed at Verchiel's lecture. "Fine. Fine." She peered at him, "You really need to learn the subtleties of human language or you're going to become very boring." She headed to her car. On the way, she paused by a tall, locked cabinet. Opening it, showed it to be packed with a frightening array of rifles, shotguns, and even claymore mines. "Do you know how to..." She looks at him suspiciously. "Never mind." Making a quick decision, Jinx took out a shot gun and a box of shells, handing them to him. "Here. Aiming doesn’t much matter with this.” As she climbed into the car, she explained quickly how to use it.

"I would feel more at ease with a sword, truth be told." He observed, but he listened to her instructions, relating the use of this modern weapon to the ones he knew about before his Fall. "But, this will do." Once her lesson is done, he followed her to the car, and slipped into the passenger seat.

Jinx fired up the powerful engine and once the Angel was seated, she fairly blasts out of the loft apartment. "YeeeeeeHA!" She squealed in delight. Emerging on the street, she thumped her GPS onto the Velcro strip on the dash, and punched it on. A pleasant female voice called out turns and mileage as she drove. "OK. News Flash. A sword is a one man weapon. We'll likely need to sweep a room." She peeked at him, "You've really got to get with the times, Grog. Honestly, what HAVE you been doing all this time?

"I have personally felled entire armies with a blade. Though I now lack the divine power of my past Angelic self, I have kept in practice with that aspect of my former duties as a Power." As he defended himself to her, his eyes keep darting back and forth between Jinx and the little box on the dashboard that was calling out directions and distances. After a few moments, his curiosity got the best of him. "How does she know where we are, and where we are going?"

Jinx mostly ignored Verchiel's assertion that his skill with a blade was...'heaven-sent'. "Yeah, Yeah, Zorro. I'm sure you can slice and dice better than a set of Ginsu knives. That's pretty useless if you can't reach the baddies. Am I right? That's why the room-sweeper is better. Not many will charge a double gauge. Ya know?" When he asked about the GPS she just groaned. "I can tell you but you won't get it...will you?" She shook her head, "Ostrich." She then explained things anyway, "It locates 7 to 15 satellites which triangulates your position in relation to the address you've typed in and a database of all known roads, geographic markers and tells you how to get where you want to go."

Verchiel listened intently to her explanation of the GPS system, his face still showing a confused expression. "Yes. But... how did they get the woman to fit in the tiny box?" He watched her out of the corner of his eye for a moment before his face cracked into a small smile. "Apologies. I was attempting to be funny."

She peeked at him, catching the tiny smile and laughs brightly. "Good one, Jeff Dunham! There's hope for you yet!" She drove on, alternately singing, cursing other drivers and firing off questions, "You STILL haven't told me what you've been doing for the last 80 years." She accused petulantly.

"Simply, I travel the world. I meet with supernatural creatures, practitioners of magics and sorcery. I consult with minor deities, shamans, witch doctors. I am trying to return home, you see." He leaned back in the car seat, watching the buildings and streets pass as the girl drives, rather too fast for his comfort, to their destination. "My hope is that some of these people and creatures I speak to may find a way to let me return to the Kingdom. Also... I..." He stopped for a moment, the next words being rather difficult to say. "I miss my friends, Jinx. I miss my home, and my Father. I miss my former life. In this mortal body, I have no way of knowing what is happening in Heaven. No way of knowing the state of things. I seek out those who may have newer information."

Making the last turn, Jinx pulled to the curb, cut the engine and turned to face Verchiel more fully. "Maybe you should have spent more time learning about people than wallowing in self pity." It's the first time she hadn't been smiling since he'd met her. "They're the ones that need help." She cleared her throat suddenly, embarrassed by her outburst. "Come on....let’s do this thing."


"I can best help those that need it by returning to a position of power. As a mortal, there is little I can do." He turned to the door, opening it and stepping out to the sidewalk. He hid the shotgun under his long coat, and shut the car door quietly, waiting for the demon girl to join him.

Jinx grabbed the GPS, her backpack and exited the car back-side first, after reaching for a flash light and a small leather case from her glove box. As she joined him on the sidewalk, she snorted at him. “You see humans making a difference every day and they’re not divine. Wake up, Rip Van Winkle.” She obviously thought it high time the fallen angel woke up and smelled the coffee. She paused beside him, studying the darkened store front they were about to invade. “No cameras, but it’s probably wired for sound.” She stepped forward confidently. “Don’t touch anything till I tell you. K?” Jinx raised onto her toes to examine the window sills and door frame. “Ah Ha! Thought so!” She grinned, rummaged in her backpack and produced a tiny pair of cuticle nipper, Deftly, she snipped the delicate wires about the door. “We’re in like Flynn.” She opened the door and slipped inside with a wink.

"Tell me," The Angel asked and slipped past her, examining the door more closely. "Exactly what language is it that you are speaking? In like Flynn' is an unfamiliar expression to me." He placed the flat of his hand against the door to shut it and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. He exhaled slowly, muttering old Latin under his breath, sending just a tiny bit of energy out through his hand. "The immediate area beyond this door seems to be free from mystical traps as well."

Jinx giggled, “It’s from a movie in the early 70’s. James Coburn. It’s really…” She broke off. Any way she would have used to describe the movie would go right over his head. “We’ll watch it when this is over. Your education is sadly lacking, my sad, unenlightened friend.” She worked her way between the shelves of paraphernalia and books without even looking at them. Like Abraxus’ shop, the interesting stuff would be in the back. “Let’s go see if anyone is home!” She sauntered behind the counter intent on searching for a computer first, mundane stuff next. The living area was amazingly cramped and frilly. Doilies covered every surface. Porcelain figurines covered every surface as if guarding the blank spaces.

Verchiel followed her slowly, forgoing the search for a computer, and focusing on the books in the shop. Nothing jumps out at him as being important... in fact; nothing jumps out at him as being even in the least bit arcane or powerful. "This... must not be right, Child. I sense no energy here at all. Are you sure the woman in the small device lead you to the correct location?"

Jinx flipped a business card up from the living area behind the shop itself. "Yep." She showed it to him. "This is the place. You don't actually think they'd do anything on site, do you?" She laughed. "Look for a basement or secret passages or the own...." Her voice stopped in mid sentence when she opened a closet door to the sight of an old woman hanging by the neck inside. "Owner." She finished.

At the sight of the woman, the Angel stopped his search. He stepped closer to the woman, examining her, and the area around the closet. "The door was closed... and there is no stool or such thing that she could have stood on inside to have hanged herself. Unless she somehow moved the stool, and then closed the door, after she died, another is responsible for her death." He reached out slowly, placing his hand on her forehead, and closed his eyes. In a soft voice, he murmured and the air around him became slightly charged with energy. "Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual Light shine upon them. May their souls, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, Rest in Peace. Amen."

“It’s hinkey, alright.” Jinx had no such empathy for the shell of the old woman.

When Verchiel finished his blessing, she rolled her eyes at him. “You just gonna leave her there?” She had walked away and began a remarkably thorough search of the tiny little two-room apartment. Amazingly, she was careful and neat as she went through the old woman’s things. She huffed repeatedly as her frustration grew at finding nothing. “Nothing. Not even a stash of booze. Something’s not right here. There’s no real components, books of true knowledge and no computer at all!” She kept looking, denigrating the mundane old woman’s seemingly ordinary life. Why here? Why her? There’s nothing here. There’s no reason it should be here….” She thought as she knocked on walls, looked at the size of the rooms with a critical eye…”Unless, she was related to someone? Or knew them?” She speculated out loud.

"We came here searching for a poison. Rohipnol, correct? Perhaps this location was chosen because the woman truly has no connections to the supernatural world. A way of masking their tracks. If she was involved with the occult, there would have been a risk that she would have heard of the attacks, and realized that it was a drug she sold that was used." He kept his eyes on the demon girl as he spoke. This type of thinking is not at all something he is accustomed to doing. His life before mortality was more about being pointed towards the demons that needed to be destroyed. "Does that make sense?"

Jinx ignored Verchiel for a moment, as she kept knocking on the walls of the old woman’s apartment. “No, actually it doesn’t, Watson. Rohipnol isn’t a poison. Strictly speaking. It’s a drug that some humans use to drug someone so they can then rape that person without the victim having any memory of the event. If they wanted to, they could have simply had it sent to an anonymous post office box. But they had it sent here. Why?” She kept thumping walls with a tongue sticking out between her lips in heavy concentration.

Suddenly, they both heard the dull thud of a hollow wall. She turned and grinned, “Care to join me?”
Digital Muse
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Salvation Empty Re: Salvation

Post by Digital Muse Sun May 22, 2011 8:35 pm

Verchiel listened to the explanation attentively, trying to take in as much knowledge of the modern world as he could from the demon girl. He was so focused on her voice, that it took him a moment to realize what she was referring to when she asked him to join her.

Once he realized what she meant, he shook his head slightly, stepped forward, and reached a hand out to the wall where Jinx had been tapping. He laid his hand flat against the wall, feeling the texture of the dead woman's wallpaper. The rough grain of the aged floral pattern scratched at his palm and fingertips as he slid his hand slowly along the wall around the space Jinx indicated.

Just as his fingertips reached the overlapping edge of one sheet of wallpaper and the next, he felt a slight break in the wall. Thin, almost unnoticeable. And hidden well visually by the overlapping layers of old and faded flowers on the paper.

"There is a door here, I believe. There must be a way to open it."

While Verchiel felt along the wall looking for the edges of the door, she peered around the tiny room chock-a-block full of potential trigger devices and groaned. “Crap. Anything could be a trigger; a figurine, a book, a pressure plate or even just pushing on it to see if it’ll swing open.” Jinx pursed her lips and tapped her chin in thought. Suddenly, she grinned brightly. “Hang on to your hat, Angel-face.” Barely had the cryptic warning been spoken when her body contorted, stretched and grew. Black feathers sprouted from her skin, she grew to an impressive 8 feet in height. Her normally pert features morphed into a menacing black beak and her frame gained an unnatural bulk. Huge leathery wings sprouted from her back as she took on her demon form. Backing up a few steps to give herself some room, she opened her wings to their fullest width and began to flap. Heavy gusts of wind blew through the tiny little living area. Figurines flew off tables and shelves, smashed into walls or onto the floor, books and papers took flight in the maelstrom that Jinx created.

After what must have seemed an eternity, Jinx stopped flapping her massive wings and paused to survey the destruction before shrinking once more to her more innocuous human guise. She shot a warning glance toward Verchiel and muttered darkly, “Don’t you even laugh about how I looked….it’s the lamest Demon form ever.” That warning delivered, she ruffled her hair, setting her bracelets to jingling and looked around. One book held fast to its perch on the mantle. “And there we have it.” Striding to the fireplace, she grasped the book by the spine and tilted it outward. She glanced toward Verchiel as a panel in the wall indented and then slipped into a hidden pocket revealing a darkened staircase leading down. “Ta Da.” She crowed.

Verchiel stood firm as Jinx transformed, and assaulted the apartment with gusts from her demonic wings. His coat flapped around his waist in the wind, and his mortal eyes dried out, leaving them stinging and itchy. As she finished, and transformed back, he blinked repeatedly, trying to work some moisture back to his eyes. "No," he muttered, "I'd never laugh at a demon."

Turning, he inspects the open passage in the wall. The staircase is old, rusted and worn. A thin metal railing, loose from the wall, supported rust encrusted steps of metal grating. Only a handful of steps were visible before the entire construction faded into shadow, the light from the apartment lacking in strength to illuminate the depths of the secret room.

Though sure the demon could see properly in the dark, the Angel himself could not. Again, even as he folded his hands together in front of his chest, he cursed the limitations of his mortal body. "Heavenly Father," he spoke the prayer in a mere whisper, and sent all the power of his faith into the words as they passed by his lips, "... grant me light, so I may see the path laid before me, and follow it to its end."

As he opened his eyes, his hands began to glow with a soft blue light. Nothing as strong as a flashlight, but more than enough to be able to make out the detail of the climb down the stairs. "Did you want to go first?" He spoke softly, as he turned to Jinx. "Or, should I?"

Jinx joined Verchiel and peered down the dark metal stairway. Her natural instinct for self-preservation kicked in when he offered her the opportunity to explore the passageway first. “Me?? Hell no! You go first; you’re the one with the shotgun. And the whole “slaying entire armies” stuff.” But, no sooner had she said that when her natural curiosity got the better of her and she stepped out onto the rickety metal grate landing. She didn’t look back at him, merely whispered, “Stay close….just in case.”

Slowly, testing each step before putting her weight on it, Jinx led the way down the stairs into the darkness. They couldn’t hear or see anything as turn after turn indicated how far below the street they had travelled. Finally a dull glow indicated they were drawing closer to some room deep beneath the little magic shop. It grew more and more bright and soon voices wafted up toward them along with the soft crying of a child. Jinx stopped when she heard the child and swore under her breath with a great deal of imagination. “They got a kid. We have to do something.” She whispered harshly.

The voices below appeared to be arguing with one another. It sounded like 4 men, one was almost whining, while the other three were showing various levels of anger and frustration. They were arguing about killing the old woman and the need to kill the boy that Jinx and Verchiel could hear crying below.

The soft blue glow emanating from Verchiel's hands were the only source of light on the stairway. Without that, he would have surely missed a step, and fallen head over heels down to the end of the passage, to come to a rather embarrassing meeting with the men in the room at the bottom.

The voices were varied. Based on the accents, the Angel counted one German, one Russian, and two Americans in the group. It was one of the Americans that was whining, hesitating, unsure of the other threes conviction to kill this child. Verchiel whispered a silent prayer, dimming the glow around his hands until it all but vanished, before leaning forward, to whisper in Jinx's ear.

"One of us needs to go in, and try to get the child out safely. The other should wait around the corner, as a surprise, just in case things turn out poorly."

Jinx bit her lower lip at Verchiel’s suggestion. He was right, of course. But, she didn’t like the odds one bit. Her voice fairly squeaked when she whispered back, “I can grab the kid….but there’s four of them, for Christs sakes! What if they have guns or…or…holy water or something? I can be banished you know!” To give her credit, though, she slipped her backpack off her skinny shoulders and quietly set it down in a corner of the landing they’d paused on. “You better cover me, Angel. You guys haven’t been very trustworthy in the past, after all.” It was a cheap shot and probably unfounded, but she was scared. She wasn’t a commando by any stretch of the imagination. She hesitated and started down the stairs, “How do I get myself into these messes?” She muttered softly.

Verchiel nodded, and raised the shotgun to his shoulder in a ready stance, prepared to drop it down at a moment’s notice. He whispered a quick prayer of protection and luck as the child's crying became louder and louder. The angry voices seemed to be shouting down the more hesitant one, and the Angel feared that the entire situation would quickly reach its boiling point.

Jinx quivered with an overload of adrenaline coursing through her. She kept up a running commentary under her breath, “He tricked me. What the hell am I doing? I don’t give a damn about nobody. Nobody but me! I’m serious. If I get shot someone’s so gonna get it!” When she was low enough, she crouched so she could see through the rusted railing into the room beyond. It was a poured concrete room, perhaps 20 feet square and 10 feet tall. On the floor a large pentagram had been inscribed with simple chalk and chained in the center was a brown haired boy of perhaps 10 years. His eyes were swollen from crying and his clothing was in shreds from shifting to his werewolf form. His face and exposed skin showed bruises and scrapes where the men had obviously beaten him while they’d held him.

While Jinx assessed the situation, she looked the men over. Two men had shaved heads and their bulk pointed at hired muscle. The whiner was American, small and had pale blonde hair. The way he wrung his hands and hunched, he gave the unpleasant impression of a rat. The last man was larger, but no more than 6 feet in height. He wore a heavy sweater and jeans. He also had an American accent. None of the men looked to be more than their mid 20’s. “Davis, if you don’t shut up about your Aunt, I will carve you up and leave you here.” The man in the sweater snarled. “We just have to wait for the Master and we can finish this part of the ritual.”

Davis sniffled, “He won’t like it. He said no kids. They’re no good. We can just let him go and get someone else.” His eyes darted to the bruisers standing nearby. “We’d be OK if you two hadn’t screwed up with that girl the old man told us about.”

Jinx shook her head, Abraxus had set them on her; he wanted to set her on their trail. She’d be sure to thank him for that…if she ever found the old man.

Verchiel's breathing was steady, and deep. He was forcing himself to remain calm, even though all his mortal instincts told him to run; to leave the demon girl to her own luck, and get out of here. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, tickling his skin like tiny pinpricks each time he moved even a little bit. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to fight off the flight instinct, and just at that moment, the thin metal hand rail that he was leaning against snapped.

The screws holding the rail ripped from the stone wall with a loud crack, and the rail itself scratched loudly down the stone, before landing with a metallic crash on the mesh stair at his feet. Each of the sounds echoed loud and long in the narrow staircase hidden beneath this old lady's home.

Verchiel winces as the conversation in the room cuts out. He and Jinx are in so much trouble.

Jinx jerked at the sudden screech of sound from above her. The men in the room below have guns seemingly materialize in their hands at once. It’s obvious they’re professionals despite the earlier argument when one of the bruisers heads for the stairs to investigate. The other follows a few steps behind his comrade. Davis and the man in the sweater head for the boy, and begin to unlock the silver padlock that keeps him chained to the floor. Not knowing what to do, Jinx opts for small and shrinks suddenly into her raven form. In the darkness, the small size of the raven is difficult to see and the first bruiser steps past her. His back-up, however caught the movement of her shifting and pointed his pistol at her. As he squeezed off a three round burst, Jinx launched herself into the room with the bullets panging off the metal grate where she’d been just seconds before.

Her heart hammered in her chest. She hated guns and bullets hurt! A lot! She aimed for Davis, her claws raking his neck when he dodged away from the boy. The key to the padlock skittered away to the far corner. She wheeled in mid-air and swooped back toward the man with the sweater, but he grabbed a knife from behind his back and took a swipe at her, cutting a vicious gash across her breast and causing her to tumble from the air awkwardly.

Just as the first rounds were fired, the thug that had missed Jinx's raven hiding in the shadows turned his head to see what he'd missed. Verchiel took that moment to act, swinging the butt of his shotgun down against the back of the man’s head. The Angel pushed past the thug, and brought the shotgun down level with the chest of the guy who took the shots at Jinx.

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, the man spun back to face him, whipping his arm up and over the barrel of the gun, and pushing it to the side. The shotgun fired, the bullets digging into the stone wall just inches to the side of Jinx as the raven flails toward the floor. The thug holding the gun under his arm snapped a left hook at Verchiel’s face, caught the Angel in the jaw, and sent him sideways. The shotgun dropped from his grip as Verchiel stumbled into the wall.

Bleeding and shaky, Jinx skidded to a halt near some crates pile in a corner of the main room. She scrambled behind the questionable cover of the wooden crates when the man in the sweater opened fire with his own 9mm. That does it! She thought to herself through the sting of the cut at her chest. She shifted swiftly from raven to her Demon from and rose up from behind the crates like a nightmare come to life. She spread her wings wide knowing she’d get shot, but also knowing that in this form, it wouldn’t hurt as much. Roaring aloud with everything she had, she lifted the crate in front of her and hurled it toward the man with the sweater.

The man in the sweater dropped his knife and paled at the sight of the demon that rose from behind the crates. Screaming, he pulled the trigger on the 9mm emptying his clip and sending small gouts of blood spraying from Jinx’s torso. The smell of urine permeated the room when the boy’s bladder emptied in his fear. Davis gave up trying to free the boy and gripping the side of his neck, he leapt to his feet and bolted to a hidden passageway Jinx hadn’t noticed when she’d first surveyed the room. The man in the sweater had emptied his gun, but continued to pull the trigger on the empty clip before throwing the useless pistol at the monster before him and turning tail to run after Davis.
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