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A modern fantasy set about the end times. Fight with angels, demons, gods and myths of all kinds in a battle for the fate of the world.
Silent Rapture

SilverFlight

Tende altum, volare altius
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There are things we can't see. Powerful things. For the most part they keep to themselves, content to let mortals go about their business. Now though, now something is happening. We've always been told stories about the end times. After all the stuff you hear on the news hey, maybe you're even hoping for it, but it's not supposed to be like this. Things are moving, but they're wrong. The angels are panicked. So worried in fact that they turned to much less conventional methods. They're asking for our help: We are the spirits, the demons, the monsters. We are Orisha, Oni, house gods and tricksters. We are the humans with their eyes open and their hands in the magic. We come from all corners of the globe, from every country and every culture. The call has been sent. Now it's time to answer.

((This thread uses the threadmark system. Please find all the links above the first post.))

**We are accepting new characters!
 
Last edited:
The answer to the clue is revealed in this post
world's end.jpg


Inside, the pub was nothing special, old wood counters and a mirror-backed shelf in behind. Stemmed glasses hung from a metal rack over it and there were beer glasses lining one wall. The wood tables were worn, each covered with a green paper table cloth. The floors were old wood too, and sticky in a way only a centuries-old London bar could provide. The entire place smelled antique and despite its modern-day additions: the computerized till, the outlets for laptops, it felt antique too. There was an old jukebox in a corner and even that gave an anachronistic feel in contrast to the rest of it. There were a few patrons inside, human, and completely oblivious to the horrific death that awaited them should things in the cellar under their feet get the better of Jophiel.

Harian paused for only a moment in the doorway, taking everything in. The larger part of her mind was still wondering what had possessed that bloody angel to go down there alone, but she denounced the irony of the thought, choosing to dwell instead on her instructions: Collect the team. Jophiel's instructions. He was not the one who summoned her, but the one who did had bound her into the service of the angel, whether either of them liked it or not.

There was something odd about the scene, now that she really looked. Not a soul was staffing the place, but with one or two people hovering about the counter, it was clear what Jophiel had meant for her to do while she waited. She groaned and slipped behind the counter.
The pendant he’d given her was that of a stylized owl. It was identical to the owl drawn onto the back of each invitation. Some sort of protective charm on top of the guiding spell she guessed. She put it on and begrudgingly began pouring drinks for the thirsty patrons, looking much more worried than she would ever admit.

What happened before...
Ha! I told you they were real. I win!

Harian stared in disbelief at the phone box on the corner of a tiny road just off Camden high street. The busy London traffic whizzed by on an uncharacteristically bright and sunny day, but the sun couldn’t match the beaming smile on the angel’s face.
She took out her mobile and turned her back on the offending red box. “Well I still think its completely stupid. Who thought of putting phones in boxes anyway? It’s much easier to have one in your hand.

It’s too bad you haven’t been here for a few hundred years. The early 20th was great fun.
And it’s too bad you haven’t had time to get used to this century’s tech.” Harian waggled her cell phone between two fingers. The angel made a face, but said nothing more about it.

They turned together to face the front of the little pub that was their destination.
The World’s End.” Harian read its name aloud and turned disbelieving look at her partner, that was what he was, she supposed, seeing as she was stuck with him on pain of obliteration as per the confines of her contract. Jophiel continued to beam at her, and she continued to hate him for it. “So clever.

Isn’t it?” He replied happily, missing the sarcasm. “Must have fun where we can eh?
Oh! Yes! Fun!” Harian added in a saccharine voice that barely hid her loathing. It faded quickly. “I love being forcibly torn from my home and shoved into a physical body to perform dangerous tasks against my will.

The angel’s smile fell and he looked down at her in earnest. Harian resented the fact that he had to look down, but her human form was short. She couldn’t do anything about it for now. She also very much resented the look of genuine regret on his perfect face.
Harian, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have chosen this. If I could set you free I would.” The angel looked genuinely regretful.
Gaaaah! Don’t do that!” Harian snapped in exasperation. Shoving his arm roughly.
Do what?
Offer sympathy…it makes it harder to hate you.

Jophiel lead the way around the back of the pub, to a small staff door that lead down into the cellar.
You delivered the invitations? To everyone on the list?
My contract leaves very little room for error, so yes. I followed all your instructions. With that little charm you put on the cards, they should be here any minute.
Good. Wait in the pub.

What are you going to do?” Jophiel looked serious. Harian did not like it when Jophiel looked serious.
There’s a pestilence demon down there. It’s what I’m going to test them with. I’ve sealed it in for now but I think it might be too strong for the trial. Something has been feeding it, and not in the normal ‘E. coli outbreak’ sort of way.
What sort of way then?” Harian’s ‘like’ for this situation was already well below zero and continuing to descend.
Erm…more of a…’Black Death’ sort of way…

Harian started. “A what?! You mean if this thing breaks out it could cause a deadly plague?! And you’re just going to nip down there and slap another binding on it are you? Alone?”
“I can’t put our potential team mates in danger, this is only supposed to be a test.

Oh, but it’s fine to put yourself in danger?” Harian made a noise of deep disgust. “Is this level of stupid going to be a regular thing with you?
Just put on the pendant I gave you and go inside. I won’t be a minute. Wish me luck!” And with that he lifted the barrier and slipped through the door.

Howabout I wish you half a brain?!” Harian yelled after him. She cursed as the angelic ward fell back into place. Now he was down there and she had no way to get to him if things went wrong…but of course, there was no chance of that happening…



Lioness075 Lioness075 andujarprime andujarprime The Dark Wizard The Dark Wizard Crocodile Crocodile Feywild Feywild FoldedPages FoldedPages KhazTheGiraffe KhazTheGiraffe Crazy Trey-n Crazy Trey-n GamerCarrot GamerCarrot The Velveteen Rabbit The Velveteen Rabbit Naberius Naberius
 
After receiving the invitation from an angel to come to a specific bar Hayle um'd and ah'd about actually going but there had to be a reason that they asked for her specifically right? Angels and demons don't usually get a long so she was surprised to hear that they wanted her to go to a bar. Sighing she walked back and forth in front of the bar, her clothing more natural looking and her appearance much more human. Her hair tied up and her markings looking more like tattoos and no longer glowing from the concentration she still had to do to control the temperature that was being emitted by her demonic body.

Shaking of her nerves and deciding that if they really wanted her here she may as well discover why exactly they wanted her here, pushing open the door she stepped into the bar getting a few looks from the random patrons already drinking thanks to a lady standing behind the bar.

Smiling she headed over to the bar as well leaning against the counter and just taking in the wonderful bar that she was in. Sure it wasn't as cold as she would've liked but there was nothing she could really do about that unless she used her unnaturally cold magic to make the temperature in the room drop, but unfortunately that would give away her demonic powers and she was told from the very start that humans should have no idea of her existence... well not yet at least. Turning her attention to the woman behind the bar she smirked at the woman "Having fun serving drinks?" she chuckled.
SilverFlight SilverFlight
 
Getting to The World's End had been troublesome for Nero, to say the least. He'd been so secluded for his entire life that figuring out how to decipher the card, sneaking onto one of the massive air-ships that they called 'planes' - through the cargo bay no less - and navigating his way through the winding streets of London all proved quite difficult for the largely uninitiated lad. The sprawling brick buildings, assorted shops and vehicles drifting their way down the streets were all new to him as well, so coupled with the experience of arriving onto the scene, the journey here took far longer than he'd hoped. Here, where he stood against the wind, staring up at the bold gold print of the pub's title emblazoned on it's face.

"A pub, as they call it?" he murmured to himself, the words spoken so low that only he could hear them. There was a book that he'd delved into that had mentioned something similar called a tavern, where the patrons gathered to drink, be merry, and sometimes escape the world outside of it's walls. This place seemed similar based on the few glances that he'd taken through the windows. As a matter of fact, he'd observed everything outside of the building that was visible in an attempt to find another way inside, even going so far as to clamber up to one of the windows in plain sight. At the exclaims and glares of shock and distaste from some of the people walking by, however, he stopped and had been simply gathering the will to step inside. This would be his first time inside of any building other than his home, after all.

After an embarrassingly lengthy period of time, Nero finally decided to step inside of the establishment. The first thing that he noticed was the abnormal, mild chill that suddenly permeated the air in comparison to the outdoors. The second thing was that it was mostly barren, aside from a few patrons scatter along the assumed bar, all facing a bartender with deceivingly familiar eyes. Otherwise, almost everything seemed quite ordinary and far from somewhere you'd meet to discuss the end of the world. Perhaps it was in the irony of the name? Someone had a good sense of humor.

A few steps into the room was when he felt it. A deep, pestilent chill that crept it's way up his spine unlike anything he'd never felt before. Nothing was amiss as far as he could tell, but something certainly seemed off nearby. The nephilim brushed away the feeling the best he could, smoothed down his ruffled clothing - the same that he seemed to always wear - and strolled further into the building, deciding to leave the patrons to themselves for now in favor of one of the nearby empty chairs in the middle of the room.

'Ahhh...' the voice in his head suddenly, silently spoke, dripping deceit and something akin to amusement. Nero forcibly pushed it back down, though it did manage to mutter a few more words before fading away . 'So this is where it begins...'
 
"This time would be different" Thanatos said to him after rescuing his soul from the underworld once again. The God of death didn't escort him out like he always had before. If Phillip had been thinking he might have figured something was bothering his master, but then again one does not keep a clear head when you're burning in the fiery lake of hell. Phillip just wanted to leave. To say the least Phillip was pleased with being set free upon the mortal plane once again. Even if he had appeared in such an abnormal place.

The bathroom stalls were the first thing Phillip noticed. Graffiti and various other markings lined the walls. He could hear the sound of his masters portal closing behind him, the crackling of the fire embers, however he didn't care to look. Teleportation always made Phillip sick, Thanatos knew that but never seemed to care. Before he could muster a word Phillip's body started to instinctively crawl to the nearest toilet stool. It was then, after his bare skin slid across the dirty floor, that Phillip realized he was naked save for his silver chain wrapped around his neck. After a few taxing dry heaves whatever was left inside his stomach was now churned up in the toilet bowl. He carelessly reached for the handle and flushed the contents. Puke and bile soaked his facial hair and Phillip felt unnaturally hot, his thick black hair was covered in sweat and what looked like ash or soot.

This was not the best start of a new life.

"What would you do for your soul?" Thanatos's words echoed in his throbbing head once again. He pushed back the thought, not knowing if he could trust it. Rising to his feet he grabbed some tissue paper and wiped his face clean, then dropped it on the floor without a care. He didn't know where he was but surely his master wouldn't just teleport him anywhere, if what Thanatos said was true a group of unlikely beings would be waiting for him. He'd have to find some clothes first though, he didn't know what he was gonna walk into. And walking into it naked was certainly not the best option.

Phillip waited inside his stall until he heard the bathroom door open. Letting out a silent prayer he waited for the stranger to turn his back to him and face the sink. It was obvious the man was drunk, lazily stepping and whistling some unfamilar tune under his breath. Luckily the man was about Phillip's size, hence Philip's previous prayer, and before the man could finish the next verse, Phillip's balled fist came down hard on the back of his head.

He removed the mans jean's, tshirt and leather jacket. Leaving him his chain wallet but taking the mans money. (Phillip didn't know if he'd need to catch a plane or not) The outfit was a little small but it would work. He then dragged the man inside the stall, sat him on the toilet seat and locked the door. Finding a sign that read out of order He placed it on the door of the stall, smiled, and walked out into the bar scene. His outfit made him look like a steroetypical biker, something he wasn't used to.

Immediately he saw a woman behind the counter pouring drinks for patrons. Phillip found an isolated seat at the middle of the bar, put a $10 bill on the counter and spoke to the bartender. He hadn't had a drink in what felt like an eternity (perhaps because it was).

"A double shot of vodka," he said to her, "I need something strong." His mind wandered constantly but his thoughts kept coming back to what Thanatos had said to him.

Could Phillip really earn his soul back? Or was this another trick from the gods?
 
Gabriel wandered the streets of London, taking in the sights. It was often he had an occasion to visit other countries. He had been to England only twice before, but never got a chance to visit London itself. It was bigger than he imagined, though he chalked that up to the picturesque post cards that every gas station in America sold. Still, he had been here for a whole two hours and hadn't heard a single death threat.
"London 1, New York 0." He thought, smiling.

He made his way to his destination slowly, taking in the surroundings and getting a feel for the place. He liked it here, though he couldn't put his finger on one specific reason why. As he walked the streets of the sprawling city, he made notes of points of interest to visit, should he have the time. Most importantly, the London Library. He had always been meaning to visit but had never had a chance. It suddenly dawned on him precisely why he liked it here. The history. This city was far older than nearly all of the places he had visited before. You could almost feel the centuries of stories trapped within the very walls of the buildings, the sidewalks and streets. It had a life of its own, almost magical by its very nature.
"You don't get a feeling like this from many of the cities in the US. The air itself fairly bristles with the storied past of this place."

Looking up from his musings, he noticed the pub in the at the end of the street he was on, sitting silently on the corner. It held a bit of that old post card magic on its facade. The red paint, the old wooden sign. It was like something out of a movie. He stood there for a moment, just admiring the simple yet elegant design. Realizing that he was attracting glances from passerby, who could probably very easily recognize a tourist when they saw one, he hurried along inside.

It was a tad more brisk inside, he noted. He enjoyed the cold. He glanced around the quaint room, taking in the mixture of old world and new age technology with an air of fascination. Noticing a few others nearby, he silently wondered how many of them were 'sleepers', and which ones were here for the same reason he had been summoned. He walked over, taking a place at the bar slightly away from the others. When the bartender came for his order, he smiled, not realizing at first who she was but remembering quickly.
"Ouzo, neat, if you have it. Didn't realize you were a bartender."
 
Ayramis looked down at the card in his fingers for what seemed to be the hundredth time. He let out a short breath and shook his head looking back up at his surroundings. The street seemed surprisingly busy for midday. Or at least he felt like it was midday from the position of the sun. He didn’t bother looking at his watch to confirm. He watched several passersby, some glancing his way but quickly looking away. He was used to that reaction. Nobody it seemed could maintain eye contact. “Rather rude turn the world’s taken over the last several hundred years eh?” He asked aloud to nobody in particular. He shifted his cane to his other hand as he continued walking down the street. He noticed a couple walking towards him. Young couple it seemed, they gawked openly for a few seconds, talking to each other before they realized his piercing grey eyes had settled on them. He flashed a polite smile and kept walking past them. He was used to being noticed. Used to being talked about, stared at even. He understood completely that his expensively tailored suit and designer scarf were out of place in a working class neighborhood in London. Especially when he was standing across the street from the mundane looking building that was his destination.

Ayramis took the card out and let a bit of his energy flicker across the face of the card. As he finished, he felt the familiar tingle of magic, and a nudge at his internal compass tugging him towards the pub. He tightened his grip on the gold Jackal head of his cane as he pocketed the card. Noticing another person entering as he made his way across the street. He looked up to the bright sky one last time as his shoes clacked across the pavement. He shook his head and muttered to himself before opening the door. “Hopefully it’s worth it.” He wasn’t used to involving himself in human affairs that didn’t involve food. But he knew something big was stirring, and it was only going to get bigger, and uglier.

As soon as Ayramis stepped into the bar, he knew. He knew he wasn’t exactly among the mundane. He could feel the energy in the air, see it in the shiftiness of the bar patrons. He smelled several scents that, well they just weren’t human. Brimstone for instance is not common among humans, from his recollection at least. Nor was the energy from soul work. That was very unique, something he knew all too well. Ayramis looked around at the current patrons, wondering who exactly was gathering such an eclectic group, and for what. His eyes stopped at the bar, more specifically, at the bartender. He knew her, even if she wasn’t in her previous form, he knew her. He smiled making his way straight to the bar. “Two fingers of Macallan, please.” He asked as he caught her attention. He felt the atmosphere shift slightly as he made himself comfortable, sitting on a stool. The temperature had dropped considerably, and the feel of soul work and smell of brimstone was slightly stronger. He leaned his cane against his inner high between his feet, his scarf wrapped loosely about him. He looked over the aged bar, and pictures hung about the place and waited patiently.
 
As soon as he exited the taxi, Falarion flipped up the collar of his button-down. Grumbling to himself, he pulled on the simple, light brown leather jacket he had "acquired" from a store not far from the airport. It was not something he prided himself in being able to do, but it was not the first time that he had been forced to get clothing out of his price range in order to better fit in with the crowd. He had no idea what to expect from this place and he was not overly fond of looking like he was worth less than anyone else. A number of his humanly traits had carried over with him in his past and one of them was a deeply embedded concern with fitting in, to a degree. He had not needed to worry about this when he was in India because everyone there had loved him for who he was, but London was another story. The moment he had exited the airport, the cool chill had permeated his clothes and sent a shiver down his spine. When he had looked at the people swarming around him, he quickly saw that he was not dressed for the occasion or weather. A simple sweet talk and snatch had led to him acquiring the leather jacket, which gave him a bit more protection from the chill. He would need to buy more appropriate clothes at some point, but the jacket sufficed for now.

Sighing, he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans before he sauntered towards the bar. It looked like some vintage-style place meant for tourists and its name suggested his assumption was correct. It was cheesy and he had to wonder how had come up with the name to begin with. The red and gold clashed together nicely, though, and the lanterns at the entrance made him feel as if he were going back in time. He did not keep up with technology that well, but he at least recognized that lanterns were a bit older in retrospect to the lighting that many humans utilized today. Approaching the door, he paused a moment and tilted his head to the side, curiously listening for noise inside. It did not seem like he was entering a rambunctious atmosphere, which was okay to him. He could always liven it up himself if need be.

Pushing the door open, he winced at the soft creak that came from doing so. Once inside, he let the door shut softly behind him and glanced about at the crowd. As expected, he did not recognize anyone and he sat down on a bar stool with a slight huff. It was much easier to have fun when he knew someone in the crowd, but he did not want to make a scene without someone to potentially back him up. He drummed his fingers on the bar and waited until he got the bartender's attention. He did not normally drink and thus, his knowledge of alcoholic beverages was rather limited. He figured keeping it simple would work best and said with a warm smile, "Two shots of whiskey, yeah?" He would decide what to do next once he had enjoyed at least one of the shots first.

A chill permeated the air and Falarion frowned at this before rubbing at one of his arms. It was not a dramatic difference in temperature, but it was ever present and he disliked colder weather. Given his usual attire and where he had come from, colder weather simply was not his type. It was now that he began to wish he had bought a scarf or even a beanie along the way here. In retrospect, he had not been in that much of a rush and could have done so, but he also was beyond curious about what this adventure would entail and his curiosity had the tendency to get the better of him.

While he waited for his drinks, he slowly swiveled on the bar stool to get a better view of the occupants. He made little effort to conceal his curiosity, as he figured being an obvious tourist would give him some leeway in acting weird. Almost immediately, he noticed a young woman with the oddest tattoos and even odder ears. He felt as if he were seeing an elf in real life and he was not entirely sure what to make of it. She was leaning against the bar not too far away from him and Falarion quickly glanced away to avoid any suspicions from her. He had heard of humans pretending to be otherworldly beings before and assumed that this woman was perhaps doing that. It made him feel uncomfortable, though, as she seemed far too at ease with such an appearance that suggested there was more to it than he would like to think. He had known that this note and destination were of utmost concern and would surely involve other beings of incredible strength and character as he himself had, but it was still weird that he was finally going to be around others like himself. It almost felt like a rude awakening. After all, the crow messenger had not surely expected Falarion to combat some impending darkness on his own. As greatly as Falarion thought of himself, he doubted he could handle such a concern solely.

Shifting his gaze elsewhere, Falarion then noticed another young human who also exhibited some odd features. It was hard to tell from a distance if they were another kind of tattoo, but he could see some vein-like tattoos appearing just over his neckline. Falarion knew quite a few who had odd tattoos back in India, but he was unsure why one would want tattoos highlighting their veins in sharp contrast. The individual had shockingly white hair and pale green eyes that seemed to hold secrets behind them. While very curious to know more about these odd individuals, Falarion forced himself to reign it in for now. If they were to end up joining him for whatever this odd adventure was to be, then he would meet them all in due time. After all, he was not entirely certain if there were different social standards for interacting with others like himself and he prided himself on making great first impressions.

Hearing a fist thump onto the bar near him, Falarion flinched and then swiveled in his bar stool once more to get a better view of someone joining those few sitting at the bar. The man looked relatively youthful like the others and Falarion, but Falarion had learned in the past that many of those like himself were keen to appear younger than they truly were. He had a sense that most of this group would appear as such. Leaning one elbow against the bar now, Falarion glanced out at the various bottles on the shelves ahead of him and wondered who was sitting near him now. Despite his appearance, Falarion knew the person had to be powerful if they were here and he was more curious to know why they had chosen to dress like one of those rambunctious bikers. Maybe he would be the muscle guy in the group.

Hearing the entrance door creak open once more, Falarion peered sideways at the newcomer and raised an eyebrow at their appearance. At first guess, he would say the person was a philanthropist or some young adventurist. They had this neat and organized appearance, yet seemed ready to take on anything thrown their way. Already, he felt a liking towards the person and the young man certainly was one of the better dressed of the group. Perhaps he could ask him for some fashion advice a bit later since Falarion figured a white button-down with a light brown leather jacket on top and some casual jeans were not the best for appearances. He most certainly would not mind looking the part or even catching the eyes of some ladies along the way. Or guys. Honestly, he had no preference, just so long as the person looked nice and had a personality to match their appearance.

Soon thereafter, another patron joined the growing crowd with a creak of the door. Falarion was not surprised at this point to see another young man entering, though he was now torn between asking this man and the previous patron for fashion advice. Both seemed to be well-tuned with such things. Before he could think more about it, the bartender was walking in front of him and Falarion gawked when he realized just who it was. He had not thought much about the odd sense of familiarity when he had first entered, but now he realized who it was. It had to be the lovely little crow who had delivered the note to him. He quickly shifted from gawking to a wide grin, as he leaned forward on the bar and said sweetly, "Darlin', I had not realized you were going to be joining me here. Had I known, I would have surely dressed more appropriately like some of the other young men here." Honestly, he could not help himself.
SilverFlight SilverFlight andujarprime andujarprime MrBossMan MrBossMan Naberius Naberius Crazy Trey-n Crazy Trey-n The Dark Wizard The Dark Wizard GamerCarrot GamerCarrot Feywild Feywild FoldedPages FoldedPages The Velveteen Rabbit The Velveteen Rabbit Crocodile Crocodile
 
"Having fun serving drinks?"
That lilting, playful voice Harian recognized from the snow-covered forests she'd been traipsing through not long ago. Harian smiled.
"Hey Elsa, yeah tons of fun. Might let you take my place if you ask nice."
Hairan poured out one of the sweet-smelling fizzy ciders and slid it down the counter to Hayle without asking for a payment. If Jophiel was going to make her do this, she sure as hell wasn't going to do it properly.
"I'd put it on the rocks but, you're freezing the whole bar as is."
GamerCarrot GamerCarrot

Harian spotted Nero coming tentatively through the doors. He took a seat in the center of the room, but that was not exactly close to the counter. She felt she needed to keep an eye on him.
"Hey, normie!" She waved in his direction. "Get over here. Come sit with us." She wondered if he had the sight to recognize her, but in case he didn't, she decided to give him a little help:
Her eyes were the same unsettling green as they had been in Italy, but it was the card in her hand that would send the message home, the stylized owl on it's back.
Crazy Trey-n Crazy Trey-n

The man in the leather jacket that sat down next was definitely not on the list, but he wasn't human either, not entirely. Harian stared at him for a long moment. He had ash in his hair and the faint scent of brimstone. That worried her, but he didn't seem anything more than tired. She poured him the double but refused the bill. "You know this is England, right?"
Harian didn't seem anymore interested in taking the right form of currency either, simply placed the bottle on the counter for him.
MrBossMan MrBossMan

The man from the library in NYC came and sat down next. Harian poured him the best Grecian brand she could find under the counter.
"Didn't realize you were a bartender." Was he trying to be funny?
"And I didn't realize you were thick enough to actually come here...oh, wait. Yes I did."
She was insulting, but the usual edge to her tone was gone and her smile wasn't as sharp.
Naberius Naberius

Anubis was next to arrive, or, Ayramis, as he went by in this lifetime. Harian poured his order, tossing the bottle and catching it with a flourish.
"What, run out of embalming fluid?" She shot him a cheeky smile.
"Seriously though, I'm glad to see you. Means I have a better chance at surviving this."
andujarprime andujarprime

The character names Falarion had been sitting there before Anubis had come, Harian had served him as she had the others, but when he recognized her she stiffened visibly.
When he spoke Harian nearly choked. 'Darlin'?
The venom in her glare was impressive.
"That wouldn't help one bit." She growled softly. "And you're not drunk enough for that sort of talk."
Lioness075 Lioness075
 
Gabriel accepted his drink with a polite smile, holding it up and giving a mock toast gesture.
"Yamas."
The drink went down smooth, leaving behind a lingering taste of black licorice.
"You know me. Skull thicker than tank armor. Besides, the boss would want me here. She's very insistent sometimes."

Gabriel let his gaze wander across the other nearby patrons, taking note of the more interesting ones. Not for the first time, he wondered just how many of them were to be his new comrades. If a literal angel was summoning the supernatural version of the justice league, then this was going to take as many heavy hitters as possible.
 
Zoya didn’t like London. Never had. The brief times she’d been there on little adventures for fun hadn’t exactly enlightened her. The city had many pretty sights it was true, though the winding streets always made her weary. The weather was disappointing too, so dreary and dull. It really could use some sprucing up, but her days of causing storms and snowfall with her folk were over. Whichever God they’d been followers to was long gone, yet she still remained.

Whilst she pondered over whether she should travel to the country after deciphering that invitation, she’d considered not accepting it at all. She’d never admit to anyone that she’d been anxious about not getting the clue right, potentially making a fool out of herself. She was a sucker for peoples love, not their judgement. Still she’d gotten on a plane, packed her most essential clothes and snacks, finally heading to London after an internal feud.

She was having to wear a more stuffy outfit to suit the weather, Zoya enjoyed furred cloaks but hated when they got wet so she’d stuck with something more sleek that had less poof. Getting to the bar was her main priority, it’d been relatively simple travelling with her white handbag and hair that was styled into a bun. Arriving at the premises was a relief, she could finally take her coat off, but stepping in she realised it was even colder inside than out for some reason and decided to keep it on to her disappointment. A frown flitted onto her face as she took in all the rather peculiar folk that stuck out like an odd thumb in the aged bar and its grizzled patrons, then relief as she spotted Harian and had reassurance she wasn’t a complete buffoon.

Slinking over to the bar and taking a seat, Zoya graced a smile on her face as she glanced at the others before honing in on Harian who apparently did bartending. “Long time no see,” She murmured, shifting on the seat to try make herself more comfortable, “I’ll have whatever you recommend, dear.” She shrugged with a lazy grin, slipping money out and holding it between her fingers.
 
A small smirk danced on Hino's lips as he sat perched on the tallest building on campus. It was approximately six o'clock in the morning and all the students seemed to follow the same predictable series of events: waking up, looking outside, checking the school's website, letting out a triumphant cheer, and going right back to sleep. On the other hand, the university staff were visibly frustrated and frantically trying to figure out what on earth they were going to do. This was happening at colleges and universities all over Northern New York and Southern Ontario. Hino had an ongoing yearly tradition of creating a massive freezing rain storm that brings the entire area to a halt at some point in April in order to give a few lucky students an extra day to study. There were other benefits, of course, children got a snow day, everybody gets the day off work, and there's nothing like seeing someone wipe out on a patch of black ice in front of their friends. Over his many, many years he has noticed that there seems to be a universal rule that has been passed down through the generations when a friend slips on ice: laugh first, and help them up second.

Satisfied with his work, Hino put on a pair of old headphones and pressed play on his cassette player. He bopped his head to the intro of "I Think We're Alone Now", and on as the first line of the song started to play, a bolt of lightning struck Hino and he vanished. Thousands of miles away, in a national park in California, another bolt of lightning struck and Hino reappeared. He started dance-walking his way to his humble cottage in the thickest part of the forest of redwoods.

"I think we're alone now.... There doesn't seem to be anyone around," He sang to Volt who sat on the front step. She tilted her head at the sight of an abnormally large, half-naked, indigenous man, dancing horribly. "I think we're... Alone now..." He trailed off. As Hino approached the house, he realized a small card was lodged in the side of the door. He took off his headphones and looked around cautiously into the great abyss of trees. No one ever wandered this far into the forest, and even if they had, Hino had glamoured it. If any mortal looked up the house all they would see is several dead trees. It was no mortal that had visited, it was something else. He removed the card an examined it carefully. It appeared to be an invitation with a warning, an owl, and a vague map.

***

London, England. The last place Hino has ever wanted to visit. In fact, he actively avoided the entire continent out of spite. He had visited South America, Central America, Africa, Antartica, Asia, and even Australia, but had yet to go anywhere in Europe. After all, it was the British and the French that colonized and ravaged his home; and they had the nerve to call his people savages. However, despite all his vows to never visit, he had come. The end of the world was far more important than even this. It wasn't until he received the invitation that he sensed a presence of darkness. Perhaps he was too tired or too busy to be paying attention to notice before, but now he couldn't stop thinking about it.

He sat on a bench across from the bar named "The World's End". It turned out the meeting place was far more literal than he imagined. After receiving the invitation, he initially thought that the "World's End" had a much deeper meaning. When he was eventually drawn to London by an unseen force, he spent hours scouring the city, looking for something- anything that could be the symbolic answer to the riddle. Who knew the easiest way to find it would have been to stop by the library and google it. If only he had thought of that first. Hino was unsure about going in, on one hand, this could be the only way t stop whatever was coming, on the other hand, it could be a trap laid by whatever darkness was coming. The only thing he knew to be true was there was a significant amount of power emanating from that bar.

"Ah, screw it." He stood up and walked confidently across the street. A few pedestrians stared at him, but not many and certainly not for long. As far as they knew, he was just a casually dressed, large man, on his way to get a drink. Nothing unusual about that. Underneath the glamour however, he was wearing his wolf headdress, sealskin boots, and caribou-hide pants and gloves. His tattoos on his face and body visible only to those with a very keen eye. He stepped into the bar. It was quite full, especially that bar itself. Hino couldn't help but feel that there was something not quite right about many of the patrons. He stood awkwardly at the door as he tried to assess the situation.
 
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As he waited at the bar for his drink Phillip took in his surroundings as best he could with a massive headache. His eyes drifted over to the TV where he saw two British news anchors discussing local politics. He scanned the bottom corner of the screen, looking for the date....his head sank low when he saw it. Three years, three years Phillip had been in hell. No where close to an eternity but it sure felt that way.

When the bartender managed to reach him she poured his drink but didn't take his money (or the bikers money for that matter). When she mentioned that he was in England Phillip let out a sigh. "I've been to worse," he replied "trust me." He then took the bottle she handed to him, and seeing that as a better alternative to the shot glass Phillip took a long drink from the bottle. Vodka wasn't his favorite but it was good enough.

He then spun around on the bar stool, his back leaning up against the counter, bottle in hand. He began to look at the other patrons of the bar in between gulps of burning liquid. Just by the various people he immediately saw Phillip realized something was amiss. He then muttered some words, quietly, oh so quietly under his breath. Suddenly his eyes went wide and started to change colors more rapidly then usual. He could feel their presences, soul work, as he liked to call it. There were people in the bar with Phillip that were by no means mortal, he was sure of it....but who?

He cocked his head back, once again aiming his eyes at the lady pouring drinks. She seemed unnormally normal, and seeming how Phillip didn't much wanna socialize with anyone he didn't have to, he spoke to her.

"Lady," he said to her with a kind of hushed tone. "You wouldn't happen, to ugh, know where a guy can get one of those cards huh?" Pointing at the card she had in her hand with owl. "The reason I mention it, is because, well, I know a guy who said something to me about them." He didn't really know why he was tiptoeing around his question. He had a feeling this place, these people, were different but he didn't want to just come out and say it. Just in case.

SilverFlight SilverFlight
 
The steady influx of people was unsettling to say the least. Nero was never quite in his element around too many people, considering not many chose to speak outright to him; his modest temperament typically kept him from standing out in the few crows he'd been in. This time both his curiosity toward the other guests and the virtually inexplicit beckon from the green-eyed woman lured him over to the bar's countertops. Every single being in the room seemed to hold some grandeur about them in one way or another, so it was only natural that Nero felt somewhat less significant.

Just as naturally, the boy unknowingly seated himself right beside the man with the cane between his knees - the ancient Egyptian god of the underworld and afterlife, Anubis.

With a hand on the back of his head, he shot a nervous, knowing half-smile in the busy Harian's direction, followed by a timidly raised hand aimed at the ancient Egyptian god beside him. "Hey, how's it goin'?" It seemed as though he'd be trying to make some friends for the first time.

andujarprime andujarprime SilverFlight SilverFlight
 
Falarion laughed lightheartedly at Harian's response. Her glare seemed to roll right off of him, as he continued grinning at her. While the others had chatted with her in small talk manners and had received a friendlier response, Falarion's was clearly not going the same way. Nevertheless, he persisted. He would break through her tough exterior sure enough and would help her see life the way he does. If not, then he would at least have a lot of fun along the way.

Giving her a devilish grin now, Falarion downed one shot before saying, "Lucky for you, my dear, I do not require being drunk to talk like this."

Winking at her, he downed the second shot and then sat back at the sound of someone else joining the small party. Except the person was awkwardly hanging around at the entrance while warily eyeing everyone inside. To Falarion, while they seemed to be one of the bigger guys of the group, he also seemed like a deer frozen in headlights. While Falarion had little experience with people such as himself, he prided himself in having learned how to socialize with humans at least. It was better than nothing. Before he could call out the guy, someone sitting near him asked a peculiar question ( KhazTheGiraffe KhazTheGiraffe ).

Spinning unnecessarily fast on his stool, Falarion grinned while his tail whipped out behind him and accidentally slapped a young woman beside him ( Feywild Feywild ). Sadly, it did not slap her someone more polite. He could not help but blush slightly, as he knew the woman was bound to react any second now to his tail. His Glamour would keep it hidden from eyesight, but there was only so much he could do about it when he hit something. He could not pride himself on his self-control.

Grimacing, Falarion immediately sat up straighter and tried to feign innocence while he looked past her and at the man beyond who was asking the odd question ( MrBossMan MrBossMan ).

"Y'know, that's an oddly specific question to be asking unless you already know what the card there means,"
Falarion said while raising an eyebrow.

It made no sense that people would be randomly discussing such a thing in public. Belatedly, Falarion realized his statement could come across as rather forward and perhaps be misunderstood as a threat.

Trying to back peddle now, Falarion held up a hand in a placating manner and added, "I'm merely curious why you would ask such a roundabout question instead of being straightforward with our friend here." He grinned at saying this, knowing declaring her a friend would likely irritate Harian further ( SilverFlight SilverFlight ).
 
Gabriel sat quietly, listening to the banter of his fellow patrons.
"Yup. These are them, alright. Like something straight out of a novel."

He kept that particular comment to himself, smiling again. He contemplated joining in and conversing with some of them, if only to get a feel for them. He hated not knowing anything about the mission or the people he would be partnered with. But he kept to himself, content with listening in and learning what he could from observation alone. After a while though, he decided that it wouldn't hurt to try and get to know some of them. Not knowing how exactly to initiate 'small talk' with random, possibly supernatural strangers, he spun around in his seat to face the entrance. He leaned back, placing his elbows on the bar to prop himself up.

"So... Anyone else here for the AA meeting?"

It was a dumb joke, and he knew that. But it was something. And perhaps a dumb joke was the best way to break the ice when dealing with an unfamiliar situation.
 

ARYS;

LOCATION; The World's End |INTERACTIONS; Sweet, sweet alcohol | MENTIONS; e v e r y o n e



It was one ostensibly average day in San Francisco that Arys' life turned upside and that, my friends, is quite unusual for the scheming trickster demigod. Having been enjoying her signature strawberry soft serve in a waffle cone one moment, imagine the astonishment painted along her brows and the mischievous shimmer in her eyes when her teeth made contact with a not-so-tasty card instead. With a swift scan of the area, Arys was able to identify a woman with brunette hair donned in a pinstripe garment relishing in her ice-cream. An uneven smirk that favored her right side was the only evidence of her piqued interest. Her salmon-hued irises darted to a decorative owl on the card. Using her pointer and middle finger, Arys flipped the card.

Darkness is coming. If you wish to help stop it, meet me at the World's End.

Oh?

A very cryptic message, indeed. Luckily for the strange woman, these were the variety of things Arys savored. So, when the time arrived, Arys chose to rise up to the occasion. It had been a long journey teleporting to London. Well, Arys decided to have a few pit stops along the way. It was a wonder she even arrived on the correct day. She stood outside the proclaimed pub for a moment. The building was a washed vermillion and drearily dull. Arys puckered her rose-colored lips to the side in contempt. She much preferred vivid and glitzy decor.

She inhaled sharply, puffing up her chest, and then blew air through her cheeks, disheveling her bangs. Well, she was already here; there was no sense in wasting all this time. Walking through the door of 'The World's End' did little to quell her disdain for the pub, the sound of an exhausted bell announcing her arrival. Her nose wrinkled, a mixture of antique and must fragrances overwhelming her senses. It reminded her of a grammar (grandma). The brisk atmosphere elicited the fine hairs on her arms to stand erect. Instinctively, Arys brought her arms up to caress the length of her arms to produce makeshift heat.

Exercising a prompt examination of the establishment revealed many other beings to Arys; a beautiful white-haired woman with complemental pale skin and distinct blue marks; an almost angelic appearing male with red markings daring to peak out of his clothing; a seemingly ordinary man with dark hair dressed as a biker (though they seemed a tad bit too tight for his frame); another quite ordinary man... surveying the area grew tiring quite suddenly for the salmon-haired demigod. To be frank, the patrons of the bar bored Arys.

"Well, this is no fun," She complained aloud to herself, nearly pouting. It wasn't until she turned her eyes to the bar did she spot the woman who had stolen her ice-cream cone. Hanging along her neck was an owl matching the one on her 'invitation.' The poor woman was busy attending to other patrons asking for drinks. Despite this, Arys walked to the bar, however, she made a point to sit some seats away from others, tucking her knees and legs beneath her on the barstool. She placed her forearms on the wood of the bar but quickly retracted them, acting as if her skin had been scorched.

"Why is this place so... sticky?" She mumbled to herself, her lips snarled in a look of disgust. More tentatively this time, she leaned her arms on the bar, glancing over the edge to the alcohol tucked safely below. Once she located a bottle that interested her and a nimble inspection around her indicated no one was looking, she fanned out her fingers and a bottle of Hine Triomphe Cognac and a glass came soaring towards her. She caught the two expertly, promptly popping off the bottle and pouring it into the glass. Although she had only been on this plane for a short six months, Arys quickly learned that her antics frightened 'normies' as she called them. For this reason, her horns were more often than not hidden, and her tricks were concealed as well.

Arys brought the glass to her lips, taking a tentative sip of the liquid. A delicious mixture of orange peel, honey, and toasted nuts swarmed her tastebuds. "Well, at least this place has excellent taste in alcohol, despite its questionable decor," Arys spoke to herself, one eyebrow cocked as she downed the rest of the drink. When the last drop hit her tongue, she promptly poured herself another glass. As she sipped this round, her salmon eyes scanned the room again. It was clear she was not the only one invited who possessed some type of supernatural abilities. Some chose to hide their true identities (and some chose to fling their tale wildly). All around, Arys could feel the air pulsing. A variety of talents and energies spread around the pub, but one stood out to the demigod. This energy was different, suffocating almost. Lingering on it too long produced an extended a relenting chill along Arys' spine. Whatever the source, it was not apparent in the room everyone was gathering in.
code by Ri.a
 
Ayramis chuckled lightly, his eyes not leaving the clever djinn. “Oh, it's not that I ran out, but the stuff doesn’t taste too good.” He responded before taking a sip of his drink. He took a moment to savor it, closing his eyes. Then without looking finishing his drink. The moment his eyes closed, the voices in his head rose substantially, from a dull murmur, to a roaring sea. It took him a few seconds to quiet them, and when he did his eyes were opened once more. “Survival is what we’re all after isn’t it?” He responded aloud. Not exactly for her to hear, but more like talking to himself. He knew, or at least hypothesized that the people gathered here. The reason he was feeling so many strange energies. It all had to do with the same reason he was here. And it wasn't good, at all. Ayramis took another look over the bar, at his fellow patrons. “Glad to see I won’t be going this alone” He muttered to himself.

Ayramis felt someone brush against him as they sat beside him, but paid it no mind. If it were a danger to him it likely wouldn’t have been able to get through the doors to begin with. Besides, he was now curiously studying his glass, and the bottles along the wall. Losing himself in thought, the voices in his head began to murmur louder. He almost missed the young looking gentleman beside him. He looked back down, an eyebrow arched in curiosity. He wasn’t used to people actually approaching him. Not without schemes or propositions for investment opportunities, business plans, or new food ideas. Not for a long time anyway. “Oh, well I guess it’s goin' about as good as it can be. When you find yourself at the world’s end at least.” He said with a smirk, then looked at his glass once more, and at the boy’s empty space. Because he seemed to be a boy. He gave off a peculiar vibe, but Ayramis could tell he was young in the ways of the world. “How bout a drink? The names Ayramis” He introduced himself before trying to wave down the bartender once more. “Let’s have another 2 eh? And a glass for my new friend here. Oh, and please, do me a, what do they call it? A solid? Yes, a solid, bring out the 50 year bottle. This seems like a special occasion, so let’s have the special stuff eh? Not that 18 years is bad, but it’s got nothing on 50.” He said as he placed his glass down and patted the boy’s back. “You drink right? Don’t answer that, today, for now at least, you drink. Yes? Excellent!” He asked and then answered, a smile on his face. He needed to distract himself from the voices, this was as good a distraction as any.

SilverFlight SilverFlight Crazy Trey-n Crazy Trey-n
 
When Harian replied Hayle chuckled and took a sip from the glass she was just handed "You know I can't help it kitty cat. It's in my nature" she teased. She was trying her hardest to control the temperature within the room but she still couldn't quite remove it completely so some of her cold nature still came out. She smiled as she took another sip "Thanks for the drink anyway and trust me you don't want me back there serving drinks everything would turn to ice." she chuckled.

She noticed the blonde haired man next to her who seemed to be somewhat child like spinning on his bar stool talking to Harian as well, it made her chuckle seeing him so happy and child like. But she couldn't help but notice that he was cold earlier, she may have not been paying attention fully but she had noticed that he was shivering a bit even with a warm jacket on. Plus he also seemed to know Harian pretty well since he was talking to her as if they were old friends, leaning against the bar more she looked over to the playful man next to her and smiled "You two seem to know each other very well?" she asked looking at both Harian and the man next to her.

SilverFlight SilverFlight Lioness075 Lioness075
 
Kiyomi
Location: The World's End

A cold, yet gentle wind blew through the streets of London, sweeping up lone leaves lying on the old cobblestone into its grasp and carrying them away into the darkened sky. Suddenly, the breeze came to a halt and the air grew eerily still. With long, ivory hair and blue eyes that seemed to glow faintly in the shadows, a woman emerged from the alleyway and teetered on the edge of the street corner, her gaze fixating on the bar on the opposite side. As if honoring her presence, the wind returned, but much gentler as it danced with the strands of hair cascading down to her hips. There was a soft smile on her pale complexion that reached from cheek to cheek, and with one final pause, the mysterious woman approached the bar in long, graceful strides, her traditional Japanese silk dress brushing against the ground ever so slightly.

Without even reaching for the handle, a sudden gust of wind slipped past her and squeezed through the crack in the bar's entrance, swinging the doors open as she walked inside. She paused after entering the building, the doors closing behind her. Kiyomi's pale eyes trailed around the bar, carefully inspecting each patron within the bar as she began to pad forward, finding an empty space between the others and slipping past. She recognized Harian immediately and smiled.

"My, my... How lovely it is to see you again." Her soft voice purred from beside the others, directing those quietly spoken words towards Harian who stood behind the wooden counter. She had a voice of silk; soft and delicate. Kiyomi lowered herself onto a bar stool and crossed her legs, leaning an elbow onto the bar's edge and leaning forward, her eyes sparkling.


"You wouldn't happen to have a bottle of Sake for me, would you? I'm awfully parched after such a long journey." Kiyomi flashed her newly acquainted friend a lovely smile and tilted her head to the side.


SilverFlight SilverFlight Everyone Everyone
 
"So... Anyone else here for the AA meeting?" Hino turned his head to face the source of the voice. A man with short black hair sat on a stool facing outward from the bar. Hino couldn't help but note that the end of the world in a bar full of... interesting people was a strange time to crack a joke; and a bad one at that. He made his way further into the bar, deciding that he had spent enough time lingering at the door. Looking around, he saw the that almost everyone seemed to have a drink, or even a bottle, in their hands already. Even those who had walked in only moments after him seemed to already be ordering a drink.

"Well if it is an AA meeting you're all doing a horrible job," He looked at the man unimpressed. Hino leaned against the bar, and checked over his shoulder. He had tremendous anxiety. He was alone, in a horrible place, and in a bar full of people he could not trust with unknown abilities. Plus, for the end of the world, many of these people seemed in good spirits. He was starting to think he should have brought one of his brothers, though they probably would have been more of a problem than a solution. This was a mistake, I shouldn't be here. As he turned to leave he caught a flash of something familiar across the bar: a white card with a familiar owl on it. Moments later he spotted another one in another patrons hand. Suddenly he felt the overwhelming urge to stay. Hino, typically unwilling to start conversations with strangers over the past few years, reluctantly turned to the man who spoke earlier.

"What exactly are we doing here?" Hino fumbled around in his bag for his invitation which had taken great care of, "And does everyone have one of these?"

Naberius Naberius
 
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((You do not need to read the interactions you are not tagged in. I realize there is a lot.))

"Insistent boss, I can relate." Harian replied as Gabriel enjoyed the drink she'd poured. "Does yours use spirit-destroying binding sigils too?"
She was only partly joking.
It was only later, when he dropped his lame joke that she actually put her forehead gently into one hand. This was going to be a looooong day.
Naberius Naberius

Zoya's beautiful blond hair dipped into Harian's view and she looked up to throw her wily smirk in the vila's direction.
"Don't ask me that. I'll end up just giving you shoe polish."
Despite that promise, Harian reached for the best bottle of cognac she could find and poured out half a glass, sliding it over with more than a little finesse.
Feywild Feywild

Harian noticed the trickster demon sitting at one of the tables close by and grinned at her. She also heard the question about the pub being sticky. "Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to."
FoldedPages FoldedPages

The low voice in her ear made her turn back to Philip. He was asking about the cards. That brought a delighted smile to her face. Whomever this was, he promised to be an interesting addition.
She made no attempt to hide the disgust in the rolling of her eyes as Falarion laid it on as thickly as he could, but then he intervened in the conversation, questioning the man before she could get a word in.
"Firstly, we are not friends." Harian snapped, gesturing sharply between herself and the monkey god. "And secondly, these," she produced a card out of thin air, "Barring the one you already have, are none of your business." She slapped it on the table and slid it in front of Philip.
"Welcome to the club. I hope you don't regret it." The smile she gave him was sharp as a cat's tooth.
When Hayle began to assume she was friends with the flirtatious god Harian groaned. "I just met him Hayle, and I already hate him." She said quickly.
MrBossMan MrBossMan Lioness075 Lioness075 GamerCarrot GamerCarrot

Nero finally made it to the counter, and took a place beside her old friend Ayramis.
"Relax kid, he doesn't bite...much."
The old god offered to buy them drinks and Harian held up a hand. "Whoa, you want him to drink?" Her eyes shifted to Nero. "You're like, what, in human years? Ten? Pretty sure there's a rule about that."
She let the words hang in the air for just a moment. "Well, it's a good thing I don't give much of a crap about rules. Still though, don't get him hooked on the stuff alright? You know how easy that is for humans."
andujarprime andujarprime Crazy Trey-n Crazy Trey-n

A gentle female voice pulled her attention next and Kyomi's elegant features appeared between the other guests. It actually made the djinn smile with relief.
"Glad you came." She said, fetching the little clay container and a shallow dish. She poured out the sake (the good stuff, behind the glass) and as she held it in her hand, the drink began to steam visibly. She set it before Inari's kitsune and bowed her head. "Dozo."
The Velveteen Rabbit The Velveteen Rabbit

The large man that walked in next took a little time to recognize. Harian squinted, and then brightened.
"Hey!" She waved him over. "Good to see you got my note. I'd have delivered it in person, but gods tend to use my kind for target practice."
Djinn on the physical plane usually meant human sorcerers were up to no good, and since they weren't of the physical plane, they weren't protected under most codes of godly conduct. It was a pretty awful deal.
It was only after the buzz of conversation had washed back over her that she heard the thunder god ask the right question. Harian turned to him.
"Yes." She answered him. "Everyone here has one. Even me." She held up the pendant around her neck.
KhazTheGiraffe KhazTheGiraffe

Harian was about to say more to the storm deity when the door opened again: Immaculately dressed, confident and commanding. Harian felt a wave of relief wash over her as Anastasius walked into the room.
"Oh thank whatever's most powerful on this damn planet. Stazz, you made it."
In her eyes the odds of her dying horribly in the angel's hair-brained trial just dropped by a considerable amount.
The Dark Wizard The Dark Wizard

*~*~*

There was only so long Harian could keep the assembled beings entertained. Where the Hell was Jophiel? Her worry grew with each passing second and manifested in a finger tapping the bar as the others spoke amongst themselves.
One should always be careful what was wished for. Harian knew that better than anyone, so when she caught herself wishing for some sort of sign, and then got one, she could have kicked herself.
The shock reverberated through the entire building, rattling glasses so hard one of them leapt off the shelf and shattered at her feet, making her jump.
It had of course, come from underneath their feet...from the cellar where Jophiel had disappeared to.
Oh...shit.

The normal patrons began looking around, some had panicked looks. This was bad. When the second shock came there was a chorus of shattering glass behind her and one of the bottles broke on the shelf, spilling shards and strong-smelling whiskey onto her shoulders and across the bar counter.
The screams came next as the normal patrons bolted for the doors. Time for the fail-safe.
Harian grabbed the pendant about her neck and spoke the word of unbinding. The magic Jophiel had woven into it unfurled, a clear, bright bubble of magic that swallowed everything in the pub, spirit, demon, god and human alike.

When the light subsided, every one of the regular customers was frozen in place. The protective shield glittering about their bodies. They would stay like that until the spell was released. The warding stuck to the doors as well, barring access...or escape. Harian would have to be the one to move things forward.
"Jophiel owes me for this...Okay listen up!" Harian called, addressing all of those who had been called.
"Every single person here knows about the end. This world is headed for change. Most of you know there's a Hell of a big bump coming. I was drafted to help. I went to get each and every one of you..." She glanced at Philip, "Except for you...you kindof just wandered in here, but you're involved now so," She shrugged and continued. "You were picked because you have skills, and your different perspectives offer strength the feather dusters upstairs don't have."
She pointed at the floor. "Underneath this pub is a demon. If we don't send it back to Hell it'll unleash a plague the like of which hasn't been seen since the Black Death. So unless--"
Harian never got to finish, because with the third shock-wave the floor splintered and cracked. Dark tendrils ripped through the concrete and then through the wood flooring, tearing it right out from under their feet. The bar, the lights and every single one of the assembled team were plunged into the gaping maw of darkness.

*~*~*

They had farther than she thought to fall, or maybe it was because they were falling it, Harian shoved debris off her legs and pulled shards of glass from her skin. They stung. She felt the pain of every injury, but only until her essence shifted to fill them. Harian again, thanked the powerful beings that there had been no silver anywhere near her. What they had landed on was soft. Eerily soft. Harian summoned a flame to her hand and took a look around:

The flame did not illuminate farther than the most distant body. They were sitting in a plush, grey substance that was slightly damp to the touch. It was light, and powdery and drifted in motes about Harian's flame. In one horrified moment Harian realized what it was...mould. They were sitting in a bed of festering, evil, demon mould. Harian could see it covering every available surface of the wide, long storage room, which was easily the size of a school gym. Harian was pretty sure the cellar of this pub wasn't that big...they must be in a place halfway between worlds. A place where the darker forces had more power. This shouldn't be happening...

There were shapes under the mould too: boxes, tables...and some that looked far too human for Harian to want to dwell on the fact.
The darkness seemed to press into them with a conscious intent, curious at first...and then eager...hungry. Every sense Harian possessed screamed at her to run. She realized then that the darkness wasn't normal. It was induced, by whatever demon Jophiel had come down to fight, but she didn't see the angel anywhere.
For the first time since any of them had met her, Harian looked visibly afraid.
"Keep those cards on you at all times." She said, trying not to let her voice shake.

Lioness075 Lioness075 andujarprime andujarprime KhazTheGiraffe KhazTheGiraffe MrBossMan MrBossMan Crazy Trey-n Crazy Trey-n Naberius Naberius The Velveteen Rabbit The Velveteen Rabbit Feywild Feywild FoldedPages FoldedPages The Dark Wizard The Dark Wizard Crocodile Crocodile GamerCarrot GamerCarrot
 
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"Well ladies and gentleman, the party just started for real."

Gabriel's entire demeanor had shifted in an instant. Already on his feet, he reached into his pocket and pulled a cigarette from a pack, lighting it with a match. He drew his handgun and made ready to go to work. Not for the first time, he thanked his link to divinity for the extremely high pain tolerance.

"Been a few years since I had to deal with a demon. This should prove to be interesting."

He took stock of the room and the others, making sure the card he was given was still in his dusters inner pocket.

"Hope you lot are as skilled as this angel seems to think. We're in for a hell of a night. No pun intended."


SilverFlight SilverFlight
 
When the first shock resonated through the room, stillness overtook Zoya as dread pooled in her stomach. It was even worse when it continued, the drink she’d barely finished was churning in her gut for what she anticipated to come. Harian’s voice had managed to cut through her manifesting panic, though hearing the words she shouted didn’t exactly reassure her. Pestilence and plagues were the worst. No matter how nervous she’d been, true fear was instilled into her when the safety she thought she’d had in the bar was snatched by the rupturing darkness that swallowed her whole.

Her first instinct was to cast her arms out and blast the air around her into giving her a safer landing, but the guilty thought of potential hurting anyone switched her into spinning through the air to allow herself to at least float down by harnessing the musty air of whatever she was condemning herself to fight. When she landed on the debris and shook off the grotesque feeling of the tainted air she utterly despised, horror flooded through her as she squinted in the dim light to try get a better look around the strangely large room. Zoya shifted into a defensive position in preparation for the worrying sights she’d glanced at, resting uneasily in her heels she’d really regretted wearing now, the flooring here was so bad.

“I’m having a little crisis here your pun is appreciated.” Zoya found herself laughing half manic, hand slipping into to her coat pocket where her card still remained, “I can’t say I’ve had too much experience fighting demons that probably want to kill me for fun though.”

SilverFlight SilverFlight Naberius Naberius
 

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