⍭he ℱallen

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Wearing --- Music --- Location​

---Date: Sunday, September 22, 2013 ---Day: 1 | 5/5 --- Mood: Tired --- Interaction: N/A --- Working: No --- City: New York City --- OOC: N/A ---​

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There ended up being exactly 23 bodies that day, each with it's own personality. It ranged from Jane-does with no name, to very well known people in the city. The ages ranged from 98 to 9 years old. Cassandra closed up her station and was ready to head home. On Sundays, Cassie took the night off to calm down, if there was ever a time to catch her, it was on Sunday night, or Tuesday mornings.​

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Cassandra lived in the Manhattan section of New York City. Sometimes she would stay for a couple weeks with her friend Ariana in Brooklyn, but that very rarely happened anymore. Cassandra and Ariana had gotten into a fight in 2009 when Ariana did not tell her that Cassandra's cousin Daniel had died in a car crash. Ariana told her that they were going to a special church mass that morning, and it turned out to be the funeral. Cassandra took it hard, and looked at the casket with her cousin's broken and destroyed face. That gave her the inspiration to become a mortuary cosmologist, and it was the last time Cassie was able to set foot in a church.​

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She found out throughout her years that she shared a common ground with others, people struggling to hold onto faith after a loved one died. Cassandra felt this hatred, if God was so powerful and so all-loving, then why the hell would he allow a 17 year old to die? She had grown so close to the belief that there was no God. ​

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Bourbon coffee on 14th street is one of the highest rated coffee shops in Manhattan, but Cassandra still hated it. She would go and drink a cup of coffee, think about how awful it tasted the whole time, use up the free WiFi and watch the news with others that ended their days the same way, then she would leave with the dissatisfied face of a tired New-Yorker. Everything that was described in that little paragraph literally happened, exactly. ​

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When Cassandra got to her apartment on 11th Street she heard a soft crying from one of the rooms. She walked in slowly to see her roommate, Lillian Proude, crying on the sofa. Cassandra sat on the chair across from her and looked at her. Lillian looked up at her and snarled, ​

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"What are you looking at asshole. Can't you see I am in pain here?"​

"No I am sorry, do you need help?"​

"I don't want your fucking help."​

"Okay then. I am heading to my-"​

"Am I a bad person?"​

"Huh?"​

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Lillian looked directly into Cassandra's eyes with tears filling them, "Did I do something wrong for Dillian to break up with me? I mean, I am a good person, I have cut down on smoking, I work everyday and still have time to text him an occasional 'hello' did I do something wrong? Did I do something fucking wrong Cassie? Do I deserve this kind of treatment because I told him I wanted to hang out with the girls tomorrow? Why..."​

Cassandra dozed off as Lilly spoke, when Lillian went quiet Cassandra snapped back to attention and spoke, "He broke up with you? How?"

Lillian handed Cassandra a phone, covering her eyes, and spoke, "Over a text message." ​

Cassandra held the phone in her hand and read it to herself:​

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K fine, hang w/ em. Dnt bthr callin me tmrw.​

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Lilly kept on crying and Cassandra bit her lip as she spoke, "Um... Lilly, this isn't a break-up text."​

"W-Wha?"​

"He just said not to call tomorrow. He didn't say anything like "it's over" maybe he is busy tomorrow and figures you are having fun and he plans on doing something too."​

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A silence overcame the room as Lillian grew happy again, Cassandra made herself some food for dinner and went through a normal nightly routine. Cassandra sat down at her desk in her room as she ate, she turned on the computer and opened up a word document titled simply Another Day.​

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She sat for a few minutes and read the last entry, before she wrote a new one.​

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Spoiler: Another Day #1158

There is something about New York City that is truly amazing that I really never noticed until now. That even when someone is poor and homeless, if there is someone worse off, they are still willing to help out. I mean, most people think that no one cares in the city, that everyone walks past them like they are dirt, but this is not true. I watched today as a man's bag broke in the middle of the road right as the walking light turned. Food rolled everywhere, money spilled, a roll of toilet paper unleashed itself to the street... and everyone around who saw the event stopped to help. One car, despite the law, honked it's horn because they wanted to move. When I had gotten to the man, he was left to the curb with everything in his hands. I handed him a new bag and he smiled at me grateful and continued on. Then as the man left, he saw someone on the ground holding out a cup towards him. The man placed a $20 bill from his pocket into the cup and continued on. In that scenario I myself would have probably gone about it differently. But it appears that even in despair, one can do so many great things.​

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When Cassie was done with writing, she saved the document and read it over, a smile across her face. She closed down her computer and prepped herself before she went to bed.​

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W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C
MOOD ※ TIRED ✖ DAY 1 ※ 5/5 ✖ DATE ※ 09/22/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ TRAVERSÉE CIEL CAFÉ / HOME
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Tiredly, Hay Sun walked into Traversée Ciel Café and greeted what customers there were with as much cordiality as much cordiality as she could muster in her mood. She voided her father's knowing eyes, who was standing at the counter, tending to someone who was asking a question about a book and walked to the back of the shop, quickly changing back into her running clothes from that morning.

She didn't plan to go running again, but she did want to be out of that damn uniform. She couldn't stand it. After sorting through arrived boxes in the back, she went up to the roof of the shop. The night was growing old, but wisps of sunset still sat in the sky, and she gazed at the crowd of light clouds that floated along peacefully. The serenity of everything up here brought her calmness like nothing else did anymore.

As Hay Sun had grown older, her temper and anger grew harder to appease, but no matter how terrible it was, how angry she felt . . . Her mother had always been able to simply sing a few words to her and all the hot feelings would go away. Even her brother had some kind of aptitude for it.

But not her father -- and she genuinely felt bad for that. She wanted him to be able to calm her down, but at least he was a strong man, and he could take her down if they both needed. She sighed at the thought, it making her feel depressed. In fact, her dad did have to take her down more than a few times in the past. She felt ashamed to admit it.

Wiping away all the pitiful, pathetic feelings, Hay Sun stood up and stretched, her vivid eyes flashing down below.

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The two walked quietly into the house and settled in, going their separate ways. She wouldn't talk to her dad until tomorrow night, and he would do the same. It was a pretty terrible thing, but they weren't mad at each other. He was just . . . disappointed in her. And she didn't like talking to him when she saw that look in his eye. It made her feel worlds of bad.

She quietly walked up the stairs to her room and shut the door behind her, setting all of her school stuff and headphones down, flopping on her bed. She didn't feel like taking a shower tonight. Tomorrow, before she went for a ran.

Taking off her shoes, Hay Sun rolled onto her back and wondered if it would be good for her to stay here, forever. She would have to leave some day, right? Would her dad cared if she left? He would. She knew he would. But maybe it would be better for the both of them.

With a sigh, she dozed off.​

 

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❖ MAP ❖ OOC ⟡ Day ends in 15 minutes! ❖ WEARING ✔ ❖​

❖ DAY ⟡ 1 ⦙ 5/5 ❖ DATE ⟡ Sunday ⦙ September 22, 2013 ❖​

❖LOCATION ⟡ Sunflower Motel ❖ INTERACTION ⟡ Jehoel ❖​

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Hana entered the Sunflower Motel and immediately made her way over to the sleek black laptop sitting on the table. She brought it with her to the bed and set it down on her lap. The crappy motel was a terrible place to live, but at least it had WiFi. Modern human technology was so interesting! Sometimes it honestly startled her how creative humans could be. She clicked open the blue icon on the desktop and the chat window came to life. It was still early evening and she figured there was no better time to call him than right now. He would hopefully not be too busy. Jehoel's screen name was lit up green and she clicked the call button. An hourglass rotated on the screen as it rang and rang. On the fifth ring, the call accepted and his face lit up the monitor.

The scarred black man smiled warmly, cutting through his tough looking exterior in an odd way. ❝ Xathanael! How are you? ❞ he asked enthusiastically. She could see the familiar shimmer of light behind his back where his wings were disguised.

She smiled back at him. ❝ Jehoel, I am well. Thank you. I was calling to see how things were going on your end. Everything is fine? ❞ Her brows knit into a tight line and her blue eyes were dark with determination.

❝ Of course it is fine. Why wouldn't things be? ❞ His black eyes shifted back and forth as he tried to study her face through the computer screen. He could tell something was wrong, but she wasn't one to usually share.

❝ No reason. I just wanted to receive a status report. How is the weather? Is it cooling down now that we have reached late September? ❞ He nodded a reply. His lips were pressed together into a tight white line, clearly suppressing the urge to pry. His scarred features were taut with concern and made him look dangerous and a thousand years old--he was actually older than that, but she never poked fun at his age. They were all thousands of years old.

❝ Hana, what is it? What aren't you telling me? ❞ he spoke in a soft and coaxing manner. It was a strange sound coming from such a tough guy.

She inhaled sharply before letting her blue eyes rest on him. Her chest fell and she brushed some hair out of her face. ❝ Gabriel was here today. ❞ He opened his mouth to respond but she held her hand up to cut him off. ❝ She came to warn me. I have to gather the others. Keep your eyes peeled. I have a feeling that if the Morning Star is planning something, his brother will be one of the first people he goes after to set free. ❞

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Hana spent the rest of the evening gathering up her belongings. She stuffed them into the various bags that were strewn about the room. The motel room was rather empty now, looking as if no one was really living in it. She sighed softly as she walked into the bathroom to shower and change. Her auburn hair fell around her shoulders as she pulled it out of the hair binder that kept it on the side of her head. She cleaned her face and turned on the shower. The bathroom filled with hot steamy water. The bathroom was already moldy and gross and she didn't like spending more than a few minutes in the shower. It made her fear she might catch some sort of disease.

These human bodies were so easily capable of catching sickness; it was disheartening. Angels didn't get sick. However, she wasn't an angel, not anymore.

When she got out of the shower, she dried her wild red curly hair until it was no longer damp and was straight as usual. She slipped into a pair of pajamas and scooped up the dirty clothes in her arm. Hana carried them out the bathroom and dropped them into one of the open bags. She made her way to the mini refrigerator nestled in the corner of her room and grabbed a bottle of water and a yogurt from within, eating her tiny meal quickly before deciding to sleep. It was going to be a very long day tomorrow.

She crawled into bed, the lamp on the nightstand still turn on. The compass on the chain Gabriel had given her rested beside the base of the lamp. It hummed softly, the blood inside giving it life. Hana picked it up and squeezed it in one hand as she pulled the sheets up to her shoulders and turned off the lamp. Her eyes shut. Darkness filled her vision, but there was a comforting warmth that radiated from her palm and fingers. She clutched the compass until she finally drifted off to sleep. Her hand went lax and it slipped out, lying on the bed beside her sleeping figure.

 

Joslyn Taylor Jones
DAY: 1 - 5/5 | DATE: September 22, 2013, Sunday | LOCATION: St. Agatha's Mental Health Facility in San Francisco, CA

"I will absolutely take you with me. I need you to promise me something can you do that?" Joslyn nodded her head. It seemed almost too good to be true. She would finally get out of this lace. She would finally be able to see what the world outside of this dull and routine place was like. "You cannot tell anyone. I will be back first thing tomorrow morning. If you have any personal items you would like to take with, then you need to get those bagged up tonight. Do you understand me Joslyn?" Hana's voice had taken on a more serious tone when she said this. Joslyn realized that something serious is going to happen. But that didn't matter to her, not yet anyways. The most important thing to her at that moment was that she would have to pack her things and make sure she had her favorite personal belongings with her. Once again, Joslyn nodded, the tears finally stopping. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and tried to calm herself down. Hana stood up, looking down at Joslyn with another smile. "It has been a long time since any of us have been united, Azazel. I do hope you can find yourself inside there."

A confused look emerged on Joslyn's face. Azazel? Who's that? And what's this finding yourself business? As the confusion only grew in her head, Hana traced something on Joslyn's forehead using her pointer finger. She couldn't quite tell what she traced, but she didn't dwell on it too long.

After turning around, Joslyn heard Hana speak as she went to the entrance of the garden. "Until tomorrow." Right. Until tomorrow. The day she would finally leave this place that she had been confined to for most of her life. She was curious though, the voices in her head were quiet for once, which she found particularly bizarre.

"Hmm... This isn't like you guys. Why were you quiet?" Joslyn stood up and dusted off her plain white dress. It was true though, why weren't they as rowdy as they usually were when Hana came to visit? Was it something she said? Then she decided to ask a question that would fluster the pair. "And who is this Azazel person?"

"I... I have no idea what the hell that bossy bitch was talking about. And I don't know who this Azazel person is. So stop with the questions you whiny, little pissant."

"Yeeeeeeeaaaaaaaah~, why don't you just mind your manners little giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrl~?" This was very bizarre. They were avoiding the question. Is it important? "At any raaaaaaaaaaaaate~, does this finally mean we're going to get out of this dreary plaaaaaaaaaaaaaace~?"

"Hmm, we'll finally get to see more of this world, huh? I guess I can tolerate that bitch if it means we get to travel around freely."

"Waaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit~. If we're traveling with this whore, then that means I can appreciate her wonderful cleavage as much as I liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike~."

"Ugh, you disgusting, perverted pig! You really only think of that, huh?" Well, everything seemed to back to normal for now. The two of them bickering while Joslyn just stood idly by and only answering them when they had directly addressed her. "Hey, she said to pack some of your shit, right?

"Umm... She did."

"Then what are we pussyfooting around here for? Let's go pack your stuff. We need to be ready for tomorrow when that red-haired skank comes back.

"Could you maybe, not call her that? She is being extremely kind to us, so maybe you should talk about her more nicely." She made her way out of the garden and went down the hallway to the room that she stayed in. It was a pretty lengthy walk. Plenty of time to talk with the voices.

"I guess I can try. I won't make any promises, though."

"I suppooooooooooooooooooose~ I can try to refer to her more nicelyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy~." Wonderful. They were actually listening to her for once. "I guuuuuuuuueeeeeeeesssssssss~ I'll be fine as long as I get to ogle at her fun baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagsssss~." Still gross, but an improvement nonetheless.

"I'm actually excited, for once."

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat~ is this? Our little JoJo actually exciiiiiiiiiiiiteeeeeeed~? Iiiiiiiiiiisn't~ this a surpriiiiiiiiiiiiise~?"

"Heeeeey~! I told you I don't like it when you call me that!" Joslyn used to be called JoJo when she was a lot smaller. Back when she actually got to be with her family. She doesn't like to be called that now because it reminds her of the family that ditched her in this Mental Health Facility. "You know, maybe I should give you guys names so that I can actually call you something other than 'those voices',"

"Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaat'ssssss~ true, you should probably give us naaaaaaaaamesssssssss~.

"If you give me a stupid ass name, you'll regret it for the weeks to come, you hear me?"

"I got it, I got it." Joslyn had finally reached her room. She opened the door and thought to herself what names she could give them. She sat down on her bed and pondered for a bit. "I think I'll name the male sounding one Victor, and the female one I can name Tessa. How's that?"

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm~ I like the sound of that naaaaaaaaaaame~. Viiiiiiiiictooooor~

"Weeeeeellllll~, you could've done worse. I guess I'm fine with Tessa."

"Great!" Joslyn was genuinely pleased that they were okay with their names. She started to crawl under the sheets to go to bed.

"Umm... Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Huh? Oh! That's right! She scrambled out from underneath her sheets and grabbed a bag that lay in the corner of the room. She went to her closet and began to haphazardly stuff clothes in there, not caring whether it was a dress or a blouse or what have you. Then she looked around, to see if there was anything else in particular that she cared for. Close to her bed there was a pendant that was given to her by one of the orderlies as a present. Since it was one of the only Birthday gifts she had received from a person aside from Hana, she placed it in her bag.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaare~ you sure that's everythiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing~?"

"Hmm... Let's see. I only really need my clothes. Do you think I should take my toothbrush too, Victor?"

"Honestly, you should bring it with you. I don't see why you have to ask us."

"Oh. Alright then, thank you, Tessa." After putting her toothbrush in her bag, she put it next to her bed and climbed under her sheets once more. "Well, I guess I'll go to bed now. Please let me sleep tonight, please?" Victor didn't answer, and the only sound that came from Tessa was a short, derisive snort. Maybe she would finally get a good nights sleep for once. She closed her eyes and eagerly waited for tomorrow to come.
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WARNING: The following is violently graphic. Reader discretion is advised.

Samuel Riviera
DAY: 1 - 5/5 | DATE: September 22, 2013, Sunday | LOCATION: Prison in Mexico City, Mexico
OOC: Due to writing that enormous post above, and laziness, they will speak English. Just pretend it's Spanish.

Samuel had been walking outside of his cell, stretching his legs while he was still allowed to do so outside of his small, dank cell. He had been feeling on edge lately. Sam couldn't explain it, but he just felt a whole lot more aggressive than normal. Like he had a thirst for destruction. He didn't know what was going on, but he felt like breaking something. Even for him, the desire to break something was something that popped up very rarely. There was only one thing that repeatedly popped into his mind: Break. Break. Break. Break something. Anything.

Just then, a new inmate was walking towards him. This inmate bumped into Sam, unaware of who he was. Even though it was a simple bump, it gave Sam enough reason to beat up on him. As long as he could do something to quell his desire to break something. Or someone.

"Hey, asshole. Did you just bump into me?"

"So what if I did?" The other inmates saw this new guy trying to assert his toughness. But they all knew that he had picked the wrong guy. They all knew that Sam was going to break this guy and show him who was the top dog. Suddenly, all eyes, even the Prison Guards', were on the two.

"You know, you should stow that attitude. Otherwise, I might have to show you how much of a bitch you really are, Mr. Tough guy." Sam was mocking him. He was provoking him. All so he would have a reason to let loose. Sam knew how his type usually are. Unable to back down from a fight even though they are clearly outmatched. He knew exactly what to say to make him angry. "Unless you wanna just prove me right, right now and run crying to mommy." All of the other people watching started to laugh. They knew what was coming. The only one that didn't was the new guy. And that would change in a second.

"Or maybe I'll teach you some manners!" The new guy went in to punch Sam in the face. However, Sam was a few steps ahead of him and grabbed his arm and his face and slammed it into the brick wall right next to them. Letting the heat of the moment get to him, Sam continued to slam his face into the wall. After repeating this several times, he let the new guy go. He fell to the floor, his face bloodied and bruised from the repeated bashing of his head. However, Sam still didn't feel satisfied. He growled with rage.

"Dammit! That... That was boring." He needed to hear something breaking. Not just smash some guy's face into the wall. Sam, still fuming, picked up the new guy and lifted him above his head. Everyone watching this realized what he was about to do. The guards didn't even move to stop him, they just let it happen. Sam dropped the guy onto his knee, driving it directly into his spine. A sickening cracking noise rang out. The new guy let out a blood-curdling cry of pain. As he lie there writhing in pain, Sam just stood up, brushed his hands of any dust, and quipped, "Ah, that's better." He stepped over the new guy as if nothing just happened and traipsed back to his cell.

The surrounding guards, with the scene finally over, simply yelled out "Alright, that's enough. Everyone get back to your cells! We'll take care of this guy." The cops brought a stretcher and carefully hoisted him onto it. The new guy was still writhing in pain. From new guy to mangled mess in a few, brief minutes. He was pathetic. Garbage. A low life, just like Sam. He didn't feel any remorse for what he did. In fact, he felt a lot better because his urge had been satisfied. As he went into his cell, he lay down on his lumpy and rigid excuse for a mattress. He was all alone in that cell. No one would last in a cell with him anyways. Sam simply sighed, bored out of his mind despite what just happened. He was so used to beating up inmates that it became a part of his everyday life. Beat 'em up, send a few to the hospital, eat something, go to sleep. Day in, day out. He closed his eyes and eventually drifted off to sleep. Willingly going into the world of his nightmares.

 

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The day had ended like any other and the calm Alistair returned to the place that he called home. Alistair could only sigh as he removed his suit's jacket and merely sit on an arm chair that rested before the fire that rested before the fireplace. His eyes merely stared on at the flames as they danced about as if mesmerized. He recalled the patients he tended, those that he helped, those that died and many other things. Life could not always be saves, and even though he was considered a prodigy he never thought that about himself.

Alistair dislike the claims of being called a prodigy. He preferred raw skill over merely being born with talent as everybody assumed he was born with. No matter how skill or talented he was there were still people that died, people that were destined to leave the earth. Everybody had their end and fate merely chose when that was. The boy merely let out another sigh as he shook his head and closed his eyes. The night moved on and soon enough the boy fell asleep.

 

DAY TWO ​

Monday, September 23, 2013 ​

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Beep beep, beep beep, beep, beep. The sound of Tyson's cell phone alarm wakes him up from a very vivid dream. Hitch wakes up as well and let's out a large yawn and starches his legs while heading into the kitchen. Tyson sits up on his bed and starches out as well, with just about all his bones and joints popping and cracking as he began to wake up.​

Slowly walking into the kitchen Tyson let's out a loud yawn that sounded like a bear growling while rubbing his eyes just trying to get his gears moving and the cobwebs out of his head. Tyson opens the frig and cabinet next to it and grabs the milk, two bowls and heads over to the closet and grabs a box of Coco Puffs. Tyson opens the gallon of milk and sniffs it to check to see if it was spoiled or not because it was way to early to decrypt the expiration date on to jug. Deeming it ok he pours the milk in one bowl and places it next to Hitch's food bowel. With the cat stratified he mixed the milk and cereal in the other bowl to get that coco goodness.​

With his breakfast of champions in hand he sat down the couch and turned on the news. "Good morning Galway!" the news anchor said in a disgustingly cheerful voice that all anchors have that most people just can't stand this early in the morning. "Its 6 am, and looks like it's going to bee a beautiful sunny day today." The news went on about the weather which always just goes right over Tyson's head. "In other news massive electrical storms have cropped up all over the world. While scientist call it a freak natural occurrence. A few religious experts say it may be signs. When asked what signs they refused to comment." Rolling his eyes Tyson finishes his breakfast. Realizing he has less than 20 minutes Tyson jumps into the shower for a quick wash down and gets dressed in under 10 minutes, a personal best for him. After all that Tyson grabs his piece and shield and bolts down to his car, a cherry red 1967 Pontiac GTO, Denise his pride and joy. Tyson gets into his beloved car, and presses down on the Hellboy bobble head he keeps on the dash. "Morning baby, how'd you sleep last night?" Denise was Tyson's fathers car. He gave it to him before he died of lung cancer when he was 16.​

Arriving just 2 minutes early Tyson clocks in. "Yo, Ty!" called a short but muscular black man. "Jimbo!" Tyson called to his partner. "Do you have to call me that? Its James, whenever someone calls me that I have the overwhelming feeling that I'm about to get a wet willy." Tyson smirked at James. James was the youngest of seven brothers, so as you could guess he didn't have the most peaceful relationship with his brothers, or at least growing up. "Hey, don't think you still won't." Tyson gets along real well with James because they are a lot alike. They like the same kind of music, movies, tv shows and books. "Alright then Buster Brown, you ready to go on patrol?" James asked. "Alright, I'll drive dark chocolate." "No I drive." "Fine, but you buy the coffee." "deal." The of them went on while heading towards the cruiser.​

Before they went on patrol, they always stopped at the same gas station to get coffee and a couple of candy bars. "Here you go buddy." James said while handing Tyson the coffee and two Crunch candy bars. "Thanks, I'll buy lunch." "No need bleach bottle, Lucy made us something special." James pulls out a pink Dora the Explorer lunch box with about all the dignity he could muster. He opened it showing two diagonally cut peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and a apple and grape juice box. "Ah, five star chief that one. I don't know since you fail at making toast. Ah sweet grape." Lucy was James 7 year old daughter. "All right vanilla waver let's roll." James said as he went around the other side of the car. "So anymore of those Angel dreams Roma Downey?" James asked Tyson. "Dude, your just gonna mock me." "What I'd never. Your dreams are the highpoint of my day.""Yeah no not this time. By the way if I'm Roma Downey then your Della Reese. Beitch your a supporting actress." James chuckles and puts on Angels have Fallen by Kansas on the radio. Tyson gives him a 'I'm not amused' face.​

"This is dispatch, there is a 507 at the Huntsman Inn. I repeat a 507 at the Huntsman inn." "Yay, dispatch this is officer Tyson Malone, we're not that far, we'll check it out." About two hours of driving around with nothing to do they finally got something to do. Although a 507, a public nescience is a common thing for them to handle since they only been on the job for 6 months. "I bet you its Lester. I'm telling you its Lester!" James said overjoyed because as public nesciences was his favorite thing. "No way! We busted him 6 weeks ago, he always waits about 2 month before raving again." Tyson argued with James over it. Lester is a old man who is always public raving that the end is coming.​

Arriving at the inn, they see a dirty 59 year old man in torn clothing was yelling "Repent, the end is nigh! The Rapture is looming over us! All sinners, heathens, and non believers shall burn in the fiery pit!" at anyone who went in or out of the inn. "Is your soul ready? Is yours ready? Or yours?" he continued to yell at the people. "Ha! Told you! Tell me do you ever get tired of being wrong?" James mocked Tyson because the bum was Lester. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Forgive me for looking for good in people." Tyson smirked. Parking a few feet away from Lester. The partners stepped out of the car and moved towards Lester. "Ok Lester you made your point. Now come on down to the station with us and let's talk this out." Lester looking over at them sighed. "Ok Tyson I'll go with you. You always are nice to me. But you'll know I'm right soon enough." Lester told them. "Right, just like in December when you jacked that news camera to tell everyone about the Mayan apocalypse that was gonna doom us all." James said sarcastically. Tyson smacks him on the back of the head and gives him a 'be nice' look.​

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❖ MAP ❖ OOC ⟡ ✖ ❖ WEARING ✔ ❖​

❖ DAY ⟡ 2 ⦙ 1/5 ❖ DATE ⟡ Monday ⦙ September 23, 2013 ❖​

❖ LOCATION ⟡ Sunflower Motel//Saint Agatha's ❖ INTERACTION ⟡ ✖ ❖​

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Hana tossed the bags into the beat up yellow Bug she had parked outside of the hotel. She really hated cars. They come with too many problems and pollute the world. She did like how much more convenient they were for travel than the vehicles of old, but it still didn't mean she cared for them. With a solid thunk, she slammed the trunk of the car shut and moved to the driver's door. The door frame was messed up and she had to lift the door upwards before being able to pull it out and climb inside. It slammed shut and she pulled her car keys out of the bag in the passenger seat. The keys were on a silver chain with a matching silver cross encrusted with red rubies. She clutched it tightly in the palm of her hand until it left an imprint before jamming the keys into the ignition.

The car revved to life and she set the compass down in the center console before buckling in and pulling out of the crappy motel parking lot. She felt good to be getting out of there. Prior to Gabriel showing up, she hadn't really decided what she would do next. There was no way she could continue to stay at the motel forever while visiting Joslyn nearly once a day. She rolled down the manual crank windows, letting the warm California fall breeze blow through the car. Her hair whipped around her face and she had to pull it off to the side. It wasn't a long drive back to the facility. She could see the compass slowing beginning to glow brighter, if she touched it, she was sure it would feel warm.

Hana lifted it with one finger by the chain. It dangled in midair and she let it fall onto the rear view mirror where it was now more easily visible. The trinket spun slowly as the chain twisted and untwisted over and over again. She turned the car to a sharp right and it swung back and forth like a metronome. Her blue eyes would occasionally glance at it while being stuck in the California traffic--it took much longer to get to Saint Agatha's by car. Her conversation with Gabriel seemed to burn itself into the front of her mind. It felt exhilarating to have a purpose again for the first time in a long time. She couldn't help but be a little pleased by this tragic turn of events. I am a horrible person, she thought. Father will smite me for being so enthralled by such a thing. She shook her head, red hair continuing to fly in her face.

​

​

❝ What is it? [COLOR=#008080][COLOR=#ff7f50]❞[/COLOR][/COLOR] she asked. Her hands moved cautiously out to the item dangling from the Archangel's fingers. It was on a thin chain like a necklace, wearable around the neck. It appeared to be a small golden compass--ordinary, if not for the metal used. There was something peculiar about it, however. The fluid inside was a viscous pale pink, not the usual water or some such that is found inside a compass. The moment her fingers touched it, it felt alive. The compass vibrated softly and warmed in her fingers to a comfortable temperature. She immediately let go of it, recoiling. Her feet scuffled back a few inches and she looked up at Gabriel in wide-eyed horror. ❝ Is that-- [COLOR=#ff7f50]❞[/COLOR]

❝ Seraph blood? It is. The compass is not complete. You will need to put a few drops of your own blood inside in order to make it fully take affect. [COLOR=#008080][COLOR=#ff7f50]❞[/COLOR][/COLOR] Gabriel was smiling at her in amusement, still holding the compass up.

❝ How did you-- [COLOR=#ff7f50]❞[/COLOR]

❝ I think it best if we left some things as mysteries. Let's just say--what is it the humans say these days?--I know a guy? [COLOR=#008080][COLOR=#ff7f50]❞[/COLOR][/COLOR] The Archangel chuckled softly to herself before snatching Xathanael's hand and pressing the compass into her palm. Gabriel pulled out a long curved shimmering knife. The blade appeared to be made of silver and the handle was ivory with intricate whorled carvings in it. She knew that knife, but it had been a couple thousand yeas since the last time she had ever seen it. ❝ Hold out your other hand. [COLOR=#008080][COLOR=#ff7f50]❞[/COLOR][/COLOR] She hesitated and Gabriel snatched the free one, giving her a tug on the arm until she opened up her palm.

The Archangel took the curved blade and poked it into the skin until a bead of blood began to trickle down her palm. She dragged the knife across the skin and Hana had to resist the urge to yank her hand away. It stung, as expected. Gabriel wiped the ceremonial blade off on a cream colored cloth, setting it down on the nightstand before plucking the compass from Xathanael's hand and popping the lens off the top. ❝ Keep your hand cupped so that the blood doesn't get away. [COLOR=#008080][COLOR=#ff7f50]❞[/COLOR][/COLOR] It had already begun to drip down to the floor. Cupping her hand sent a searing pain through her palm and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. Gabriel held the now open compass just under her hand and tipped Xathanael's hand so that the blood would run down her palm and into the device.

As soon as the droplets connected into a small pool in the golden case, the blood began to change colors and glow with more life than she thought possible. The pale red color was more vibrant. The needle flicked back and forth between the two angels standing side by side, as if it couldn't make up its mind. Gabriel snapped the lens back into place and handed Hana the same cloth that she used to wipe the blade off to stop the bleeding of her hand. She pressed the silky cloth against the cut and the cool fabric felt soothing where her hand burned.

Gabriel looped the chain of the chain of the necklace over Hana's head so that it felt perfectly between her breasts. It seemed to calm down now as it hummed in place. It was no longer glowing, now a deep crimson color that seemed to refrain from staining the inside of the compass or fall with gravity. The liquid stayed perfectly in place as if it were lying face up on its back. ❝ How-- [COLOR=#008080][COLOR=#ff7f50]❞[/COLOR][/COLOR] her voice cracked and she stared in wide-eyed wonderment at her sister. Blue eyes darted back and forth, searching Gabriel's face for answers.

❝ It will show you the way. The compass will come to life as it catches the trail of a fallen angel. It will glow when hearing a name or seeing a face and point you in the right direction to find them. Trust in it. This piece is one of a kind and will be a great asset to you. [COLOR=#008080][COLOR=#ff7f50]❞[/COLOR][/COLOR] Gabriel's green eyes darted to the alarm clock by the bed and she readjusted the large-brimmed hat on her head. ❝ I must be going now. First Find Azazel and then the others. It is not safe for that poor child. I fear Azazel will never truly be safe. [COLOR=#008080][COLOR=#ff7f50]❞[/COLOR][/COLOR] The Archangel began to make tentative steps towards the door.

Hana reached out and caught her arm as she took one last stride to the exit. ❝ How long? How long do we have Gabriel? [COLOR=#ff7f50]❞[/COLOR]

The sweet smile that had been on Gabriel's face for most of the visit vanished. Her features darkened and her vast grassy green eyes were now a more olive color. ❝ The Winter Solstice. You have until then. He shall use the darkest day of the year to do his bidding. Evil is strongest in the dark, but darkness is not always evil. Goodbye Xathanael. [COLOR=#008080][COLOR=#ff7f50]❞[/COLOR][/COLOR] The Archangel patted her lightly on the cheek, her friendly features having returned, before departing from the motel in a blinding light.

​

​

Hana was certain she had seen the glow of white-gold feathers before her brethren had disappeared. She missed her wings. As she turned down the drive of the Saint Agatha, the compass began to glow once more. It worked, that was for sure. She felt a flutter in her stomach as her eyes locked on the large brick building. It looked like a cross between a church and a mansion. It was large, placed on a couple acres of green grass with gardens and a farmer's field behind it. The corners had towering spires that seemed as if they could pierce the sky. The front doors were automatic sliding doors, but she suspected that at one time they had been lovely intricately carved wooden doors. A ten-foot cross was attached to the tallest steep of the building, staring down at the world below. It cast a long black shadow across the gravel driveway.

She pulled into the parking lot and took a deep breath. This would be something. She had never really busted someone out of a place before. The idea of it made her sick to her stomach, but it needed to be done. She needed to fetch Azazel and get out of this city. There was a lot of ground to cover and not much time to do so. People these days had very different ideals when it came to God, and getting them all to believe that they were fallen angels and needed to join in a battle for a world they knew nothing about with the possibility of dying would not be easy.

Hana grabbed the necklace off the mirror and took off her hat so that she could place the chain over her head and around her neck. She shouldered the car door open and set the hat back atop her head before stepping out onto the gravel and slamming it shut behind her. The car keys were slipped into her bag and she marched to the front doors. It was a short distance. They made a suctioning sound as they slid open for her. The same nurse sat in the lobby at the desk as yesterday. She looked up with a frown, but greeted her regardless. ❝ Good morning. [COLOR=#008080][COLOR=#ff7f50]❞[/COLOR][/COLOR]

​

 

Samuel Riviera
DAY: 2 - 2/5 | DATE: September 23, 2013, Monday | LOCATION: Prison in Mexico City, Mexico
OOC: Laziness, English, pretend it's Spanish, same deal as last time.

Spoiler: Nightmare (Warning: This Nightmare sequence is graphically violent and uses of vivid imagery. Reader Discretion is advised)

Where... Where am I? Sam found himself standing in the middle of a bleak and barren landscape. Everything around him seemed to be devoid of life. The ground he stood on was scorched. The sky was filled with grey clouds that blocked out the sun's rays. What little grass there was surrounding him was trampled upon and beginning to wither away. He looked around himself to see mountains of corpses lay before him. Several of them had one of their arms or one of their legs severed. Some of them seemed to have had them torn off, the broken bone protruding from where the rest of the arm or leg should have been. However, it seemed that those were the lucky ones. Amongst the corpses, Sam could see that some of them had been ripped in half, their inner organs lay scattered in between the upper and lower halves of their bodies. The spinal cord peeked out from underneath all of the blood and guts. Some of the other corpses were missing half of their faces, with the other half displaying a look of sheer terror. What kind of hell is this? He looked at his hands which were completely soaked a dark red. Did... Did I do all of this? Upon closer inspection, Sam found that he was wearing some kind of armor. Blood had been smeared all over the formerly silver-colored armor.

Sam looked forward, and found that there were more people coming at him. They were all wearing light armor, similar to the corpses that lay in front of him. So, I'm fighting these guys? As they charged, he could hear a loud roar coming from them.

He clenched his fists tightly, "You want some of this? YOU WANT SOME OF THIS!?" It was very bizarre, Sam heard the voice coming out of his mouth, but at the same time, it wasn't his voice. Am I... Am I really the one fighting here? The body Sam was occupying let out a primal howl as it charged head long into the incoming fray. This feels so familiar... It was crazy, even though this body was unarmed and the oncoming warriors were equipped with various bladed weapons, he tore through them like it was nothing. However, Sam's body did not come out of this unscathed. In the midst of the brawl, several of the enemy fighters managed to pierce the armor that he had been wearing. Swords, spears, and axes had been lodged into his body. The blades stuck out of his back as his blood mixed with the blood that was already on his armor. Still, even this heavily injured, he managed to kill several more enemy soldiers. However, it came to an abrupt end when someone came in and severed Sam's head. It rolled along the ground as his body finally collapsed into a crouching position, the weapons stuck into him holding it up.

Sam sat up sharply on his bed, a cold sweat had formed on his forehead. His breathing was heavy as he wiped his arm across his sweat-laden forehead. Shit, another one of those nightmares. They've been happening more and more frequently lately. For the last couple of months, Sam had been having these nightmares. However, each nightmare was different. In each one, it seemed like he was a different person each time. What made it even more bizarre is that in each one of them, he always ended up getting killed, whether by beheading or massive blood-loss or being crushed to death. It didn't matter who he was in these nightmares, he always ended up dead. And each time he died, he would wake up. However, Sam's recollection of all of these nightmares is faint, at best.

He stood up and saw that his cell was open. Oh. Time for breakfast. Sam walked out, cracking his neck and knuckles as he walked out. He knew that no one would dare question him about anything. They were too afraid to. Not that he cared. He actually preferred to be by himself. That way, no one would get on his nerves and he wouldn't have to seriously injure them. Of course, whenever his urges came up, he had to do something about it. Like he did with the new guy last night. That's right... I seriously fucked up that new guy last night. He kept walking down, nonchalantly stretching his arms and his back as he did. The nightmare had gone to the back of his mind for now.

 

"So, Lester what's new?" Tyson asked the dirty old bum. "Other then the end of days. Heard from your family lately?" Tyson asked, even though Lester's 'asylum was missing a few patients' Tyson felt sympatric towards the old guy, because before he was shoplifting canned goods during the whole Y2K thing he was a loving father and husband. But tragedy struck when he lost his 16 year old son by a stray shot in a police shooting during a bank robbery gone wrong. A little time later he lost it and was convinced the world was ending. His wife left sometime after that taking their 12 year old daughter with her. "No....its been months since we last talked." Lester said with a hurt tone in his voice. "Hey, it'll be alright." James said looking through the rear view mirror at Lester in the back seat of the car. Tyson glanced at his watch to see what time it was. "Say, Jimbo pull the car over here." Tyson told his partner. James give him a confused look and did what his partner said.
After the car was pulled over on the side of the road, Tyson pulled out that lunch that Lucy made for them. "Hungry Lester?" Tyson asked as he slide the little divider between the front and back seat open and handed Lester half of his PB&J sandwich. Lester with a really confused look took the half of the sandwich. James took his sandwich and started eating it as did Tyson. With a hesitant look Lester glanced back and forth between the cops and the sandwich unsure what the hell was going on. He finally took a bite of the sandwich. "You thirsty Lester? I've got some graph juice here." Tyson asked with a smile on his face. "Um no I'm fine thanks." Lester replied. "Ok, so how you been?" Tyson asked with his mouth full of PB&J goodness. "Fine, I read about your fiancé in the paper. I'm sorry, losing someone you love is never easy, are you ok?" Lester said while pecking at his sandwich. James with a nerves look turned to his partner to see his response, James was curious about how Tyson was doing too but was a little sacred to ask because he didn't want to upset his friend at such a rough time in his life. Tyson calmly swallowed the food in his mouth, and looked back at Lester. "I'm ok, its rough. God its rough. But hopefully it'll get easier." Tyson turned back around and finished his sandwich and juice. James looked at Tyson, he knew his partner too well to know when he's hiding something. But he didn't press him on the subject. "It doesn't." Lester responded. Then he finished his sandwich in silence. With there food finished they started back to the police station.

 

​

​

❖ MAP ❖ OOC ⟡ ✖ ❖ WEARING ❖​

❖ DAY ⟡ 2 ⦙ 2/5 ❖ DATE ⟡ Monday ⦙ September 23, 2013 ❖​

❖ LOCATION ⟡ Saint Agatha's Mental Health Facility ❖ INTERACTION ⟡ ✖ ❖​

​

​

Hana signed in per usual, before winding her way down the halls to Joslyn's bedroom. The nurse had said that she hadn't come out yet. She flicked the badge clamped to one of the ruffles on her blouse. She really hated wearing these things, as if they couldn't identify who was a patient and who wasn't. Her red hair bounced against her back and the heels of her flip flops smacked the tile noisily. She could feel warmth radiating from the compass and was thankful for the cooler temperatures in Saint Agatha's. It sent chills down her spine as she approached Joslyn's door.

The door was closed when she reached it. Hana knocked lightly on the wood two times before taking a step back. She never liked to be standing within inches when someone opened a door. It felt like an invasion of personal space. She clasped her hands together behind her back, trying to think of a plan. Getting Joslyn out of here would be difficult. She hadn't thought much past just getting here. Her teeth nibbled lightly on her bottom lip as she tried to think. Without the Father's blessing, using her powers was a drain on her both mental and physical state. She could try to use a glamour--make them invisible--, but it would leave her tapped for hours. She wouldn't be able to drive for very long because she would be in desperate need of a nap.

She sighed. Hana lifted her left hand so that it was parallel with her chin, checking her nails. The box was in the bag over her shoulder, but there should be no reason for her to have to fight her way out of the facility. That would call far too much attention. What to do, what to do?

​

 

​

W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C
MOOD ※ SIGH ✖ DAY 2 ※ 2/5 ✖ DATE ※ 09/23/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ STREETS / PARK
​

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❝Miss White,❞ came the poignant, touchy voice of a teacher. It was the last period of the day, Hay Sun had almost made it! What the ****, man . . . she thought to herself, wrenching her neck to look over her shoulder at the door to see which teacher had come to escort her to the principal's office this time.

The rest of the class was staring at Hay Sun, waiting for what she would do, but she didn't move, and instead gave the teacher a bored look, tinged with annoyance. ❝Yes, what is it?❞ she asked, and the teacher crossed her arms.

❝I'm not going to wait all day for you, Miss White.❞ she snapped, and Hay Sun sighed. She really didn't want to do this today.

❝I wasn't expecting you to.❞ she replied, rolling her eyes.

❝Miss White!❞ started the voice of her classroom teacher, ❝Disobedience will not be tolerated in this classroom -- now, Mrs. Baudin is waiting for you to comply, and I expect that you will because you do not want to have more on your plate than you already do!❞ She wasn't actually shouting, but Hay Sun felt like she was, and that made her forcefully stand up from her chair, making it fall backwards.

The classroom collectively flinched, including the two teachers, but then another voice cut in, and Hay Sun turned violently on her heel to begin snapping. Things stopped when she saw who it was.

❝Mr. Deforest . . .❞ she murmured, looking at him with her glowering bright eyes.

He made a motion for her to follow and she sighed, setting her desk and chair right, then grabbing her bag and calmly leaving the room.

​

Out of her school uniform, Hay Sun rode her motorcycle throughout the streets, going at top speeds where she could to take her mind off things. Mr. Deforest . . . He was the only person in that whole school that actually scared her, and she didn't know why. Not only that, but he seemed to be able to calm her down in a way none of the other teachers or students were capable of.

It really, you guessed it, pissed her off.

But forget about that. Hay Sun was more focused on the weird dreams she had been having recently. They usually involved flying of some sort, weaving about the clouds, high and low, and then landing in front of a gate where she was supposed to meet someone, but could never remember who. Golden gates, what a laugh. She didn't believe in that kind of stuff. Hay Sun wasn't a religious person because no one had showed her any proof. Where was the proof?

Even then, she would probably still not believe. Why would a god, who so much 'loved' his creations let them suffer? It seemed contradictory. As she made a sharp turn, Hay Sun wondered why a god would be like that.

With a sigh, her motorcycle came to a halt next to a park, and she parked it, flopping down onto the green grass next to it, staring up into the sky.​

Spoiler: ✖ D A Y _ D R E A M I N G

❝PITIFUL.❞ came a strong male voice, and the above scene was a sea of white and creamy ethereal light. ❝WE SHALL CONDEMN THIS SOUL, DOKIEL.❞ After making his completely harsh judgment, the man pulled up his almost-glowing, long white hair with a thin, lace ribbon.

❝. . . PURIEL, DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THERE IS NO SANCTUARY FOR THIS MAN?❞ his partner and counterpart in looks asked, looking at him with a heavy stare.

The one called Puriel turned on his heel and a cold look shot straight at Dokiel, who remained unfazed. ❝WE ARE ANGELS OF JUDGMENT, DOKIEL, AND WE ARE ALWAYS TO DO OUR JOB WITH HONOR AND DIGNITY. WE DO NOT MAKE MISTAKES, AND SO WHEN I SAY THERE IS NO HOPE FOR THIS MAN, IT MEANS THERE IS NO HOPE. WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MORTAL WHO SOLD HIS FAMILY TO PAY OFF HIS SINFUL HABITS?❞ he explained harshly, ❝WHERE MERCY IS UNDESERVED, MERCY IS NOT SHOWN.❞

Dokiel gave a sigh, but then laughed, patting his partner on the shoulder. ❝YOU HAVE GROWN MORE COARSE, MY FRIEND.❞

❝SOMEONE HAS TO BE HONEST, WHO WOULD RATHER BE LIED TO THAN TOLD THE TRUTH?❞

❝YOU MIGHT BE SURPRISED AT MORTALS, THEN.❞ Dokiel said as the two left the room.

Hay Sun opened her eyes, the sun beginning to sink below the clouds, creating a beautiful silver lining. She frowned at the thought of the dream and then all memories of it crumbled away.​

 

Joslyn Taylor Jones
DAY: 2 - 2/5 | DATE: September 23, 2013, Monday | LOCATION: St. Agatha's Mental Health Facility in San Francisco, CA

Spoiler: 1000 Years of Dreams

A little girl, probably no older than six or seven, walked hand in hand with an older gentleman. It seemed like she was guiding him around, taking care of the poor fellow. For some reason, Joslyn found herself watching as these two walked around, hand in hand. Huh? Who are they? She was just watching as they walked around an old town. The streets were made with what looked like bricks. It looked shiny from being wet, with a couple of puddles on the street. Wooden stands lined the streets, assorted fruits and vegetables on each one. The wood on the outside of the buildings that lined the street looked rather old and moldy.

The little girl wasn't talking much, from the looks of it. However, the old man, it seemed like he was having a conversation all by himself. What was even weirder is that he was answering questions that no one asked, responding to things no one, not even the pedestrians nearby, had said. Oh, is that old man like me? It was the only thing she could think of as a possible explanation. An old man that was hearing voices in his head, and a little girl that was taking care of him. Huh? Joslyn thought that this seemed awfully familiar. However, before she could even finish that thought, the old man collapsed. That's when...

...Joslyn fell off of her bed. After she had fallen, she lifted up her head in a daze. Her dull grey eyes were half open, her vision blurry. There was a little bit of drool on the corner of her mouth. She looked around her room for a little bit, still disoriented.

"Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeelllllllllll~, look who's finally up and abooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuut~." Joslyn yawned as she stretched her arms. She wiped the corner of her mouth with her sleeve as she stood up and put her blanket back on her bed.

"Good morning, Victor." The clearing of a throat could be heard, as if trying to call attention to itself. "Oh, and good morning to you too, Tessa."

"Y'know, I wouldn't so much mind this whole business if you weren't such a heavy sleeper."

"Seeeeeeeeriouslyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy~, We've been trying to wake you up for hoooooooooooouuuuuuuuuurrrrrrssss~."

"Huh? Oh, sorry... I guess when I'm able to actually sleep, I'm just out." Through some miracle, maybe because they were going to finally get out, Victor and Tessa had actually been quiet enough for her to fall asleep.

"Yeah? Well don't get your hopes up too much, Missy. That was only one night. Don't expect anymore kindness from us, understand?"

"Okay." Joslyn still wasn't thinking straight, her brain wasn't fully functional yet, since she had just gotten up.

A few minutes passed without anything being said. Then, as if to break the silence, a knocking came. "Ooh, Maybe that's Hana!" She went to open the door, and sure enough, Hana was standing there, looking at her nails. "Good morning, Hana. Is it time already?"

"Ooooooooooooohhhhh~ It damn well better be time for us to ditch this dreary plaaaaaaaaaaaacccccccce~."

"Yeah, this ska- err, I mean, this chick better be here to get us out."

"Don't worry, she will." Joslyn wanted to assure them, as well as herself, that they would really be getting out of St. Agatha's today.

 

❖ MAP ❖ OOC ⟡ ✖ ❖ WEARING ❖
❖ DAY ⟡ 2 ⦙ 2/5 ❖ DATE ⟡ Monday ⦙ September 23, 2013 ❖
❖ LOCATION ⟡ Saint Agatha's Mental Health Facility ❖ INTERACTION ⟡ Joslyn ❖

​

The door swung open and standing across the threshold was a familiar white-haired girl with pale gray eyes. ❝ Good morning Hana, is it time already? ❞ Joslyn asked. She seemed to be in high spirits and Hana couldn't help but smile at that. She gave the younger girl a quick nod as she stepped quickly across the hall. ❝ Don't worry. She will. ❞

Hana held her tongue. She was about to ask what Joslyn meant, but she had an idea. There was no reason to ask questions. She entered the bedroom and shut the door behind herself. It closed with the click of the lock and she leaned her back against it. ❝ Good morning. You seem to be rather happy today. That's good. ❞ Hana crossed the room to a nearby window and looked out. The grounds were rather empty. That would make things easier. I don't think I have much of an option. She turned on her heel, facing the girl, determination etched on her face.

❝ Joslyn, are you ready? Do you have everything packed? ❞ She needed to prepare herself. There was only one way she would be able to fully get the girl out of the Facility. As much as it would drain her, it needed to be done. I have to take Azazel with me. There's no choice. She pressed her lips into a hard line until they turned white. There was no turning back. ❝ I'm going to do something you've never seen before, or at least, something you haven't seen in a great number of lifetimes. Hand me your bag. ❞ She took it from Joslyn and slung it over her shoulder. Her eyelids shut, blocking out the room. She needed to focus. Hana took a deep breath before opening her eyes, crystal blue orbs piercing the disturbed teenager.

​

 

Name: Melissa Patton ​

Location: Las Vegas, Nevada​

Status: Ignorant​

Mood: Frustrated ​

Melissa's frustrated sigh accompanied the loud click of her phone as she slammed it shut. Her head shook slowly and she slipped it into her pocket. Why won't he pick up? she was wondering, thinking about how she had been calling her father all afternoon. Her cab was getting closer to the hotel at which her father was staying, and she was starting to get worried about him.

The sound of Police sirens had started to float to her ears a few moments before, and, her head turning toward the sound, her eyes filling with the black and white blurs of siren-flashing Police cars. Melissa leans forward, her hand rising to cover her mouth as the cab rounds the last corner.

Police cruisers are parked outside the door to the Hotel-Casino in which her father had been staying, and, lying in a pool of blood and shattered glass, her father. 'Lissa's eyes widening, she bursts into tears as she comes to the realization of why she had gotten no response to her calls.

 

Tyson and James finally make it back at the police station. James begins the paper work while Tyson escorts Lester to a cell in the station. "Alright buddy here you go." Tyson said when opened a cell door. "If you need anything just ask." Tyson gave a faint smile as he closed the door. Tyson heads back to his partner who was already about done with the paper work. "Aaaannnnnndddddd done. Next time you do the paper work Ty." James sighed. "Ah but Jimbo, your so good at-" But before Tyson could finish his sentence the chief walked in. "Hey rookies we got a fresh one, your on crowd control." The chief barked. Crowd control was Tyson's least favorite part of the job, because it was SO boring.
They went on back to their cruiser and headed to the crime scene with the sirens flashing and beeping. "So what do you think happened." James said to break the silence. "I hope it's nothing too gross." "Its probably some guy that was offed by his wife for cheating or something like that." Tyson replied. "Yeah your probably right, but still it would be kinda' cool if it was a serial killer or something." Tyson rolled his eyes at James. James always glamourized being a cop like it was the same on TV, although he likes his job he would rather be a homicide detective or something exciting. Tyson on the other hand was happy at where he was, he enjoyed the feeling of helping people.
They finally arrived at the scene of the crime. Stepping out of the cruiser they went over for orders from the detectives in charge. "Hey there maggots." Detective Norman one of the detectives in charge. Norman is the top dog around here, having the highest score from the Police Academy, that was until Tyson arrived. He always did everything in his power to humiliate and berate Tyson. "Hey! That's enough! You've only been a detective for little over a month, so get too high and mighty. Partner." A familiar voice came to there defense, it was Steward. "Nice to see ya kid. Go ahead and take post over there." Steward pointed over to his right with people taking pictures of the scene. Tyson and James gave him a nod and headed over to there post.

 

Joslyn Taylor Jones
DAY: 2 - 3/5 | DATE: September 23, 2013, Monday | LOCATION: St. Agatha's Mental Health Facility in San Francisco, CA

After Joslyn had opened the door for Hana, she came into her room and locked the door behind her. "Good morning. You seem to be rather happy today. That's good." She couldn't help but be happy. Today, Hana would be taking her away and would be showing her what the outside world was like. Almost as soon as she had entered, Hana made her way to a window that was in the room. She looked around the outside. Maybe she was looking to see if there were other people around?

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm~ I've been waaaaaaaiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiinggg~" Tessa let out a grunt to signify her disgust. It seemed like Victor was staring at Hana. Well... That wasn't unusual. It was disgusting to her, but still, it was normal for Victor.

"Joslyn, are you ready? Do you have everything packed?" Hana had turned from the window to ask her this. Quickly, Joslyn grabbed the bag she had placed next to her bed and nodded vigorously. Hana was pressing her lips together hard. Was she worried about something? "I'm going to do something you've never seen before, or at least, something you haven't seen in a great number of lifetimes. Hand me your bag." Something I haven't seen in a great number of lifetimes? What was that supposed to mean? Joslyn was greatly confused by what she had just told her. Lifetimes? Why would she say something like that? Regardless, she handed her bag over to Hana. She slung it over her shoulder and closed her eyes. What was she doing? Hana took a deep breath before opening them again, a different look in her eyes.

"Hey, wait a minute! Just what the hell is this bitch trying to do?"

"Yeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaah~, what exactly is going ooooooooooonnnnnnnn~?"

"Wait a minute... Do you think that she's..."

"Weeeeeeeeeelllllllll~, It does make sense if you think about iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit~" What were they talking about? Did they know something about this? What weren't they telling her? Joslyn didn't bother asking them about it because she knew she wouldn't get a straight answer out of them. All she could do was look back into Hana's crystal blue eyes.

 

❖ MAP ❖ OOC ⟡ It's raining. I is wet. :`[ ❖ WEARING ❖
❖ DAY ⟡ 2 ⦙ 3/5 ❖ DATE ⟡ Monday ⦙ September 23, 2013 ❖
❖ LOCATION ⟡ Saint Agatha's Mental Health Facility ❖ INTERACTION ⟡ Joslyn ❖

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Hana held the bag firmly over her shoulder before moving to the door and unlocking it. ❝ Follow me, ❞ she commanded. With a flick of her wrist, she motioned for Joslyn to come after her before disappearing out into the hallway. This section was vacant, albeit, probably not for long. She lifted the bag hanging off her shoulder and unzipped the top. Her hand rifled through it until she felt the cool familiar surface of a small glass vial. She pulled it out, letting the bag fall back against her hit and shook it once between her thumb and index finger. Her blue eyes inspected the clear liquid as bubbled momentarily before settling once more.

She uncapped it, resting her finger over the mouth of the vial and tipping it sideways to damper her index finger. Her gaze lifted and she looked at Joslyn mournfully. ❝ I'm afraid this might hurt you, just a little. Things would be easier if they weren't with you, but this should help silence them--temporarily. ❞ Her expression softened, but guilt was swelling in her chest. ❝ You trust me, right? ❞ Before the white-haired fallen angel could reply, Hana stretched her arm out and just as she did the day before, drew a cross between Joslyn's eyebrows--only this time, dampening the skin with holy water. She said a silent prayer, asking for strength and the banishment of the spirits inside the child. Her eyes closed as she sucked in air, finishing the cross and recapping the vial. It fell gingerly back into the bag of tricks by her hip.

❝ I hope it does not hurt too much. The demons would have only gotten in the way. ❞ The bag made a zipping sound as she closed it and snatched Josyln's hand. This was it. There was no turning back from here and she little time to execute the plan. Hana inhaled a slow deep breath and cleared her mind of all deterrents. How long had it been since she last tried to shield herself from the mortal world? She imagined herself invisible--it wasn't really invisibility, if someone focused hard enough, they would notice a displacement of light, a translucent figure moving past steadily--, unseen. The wouldn't no her presence was there. She gave Joslyn's hand a firm squeeze and opened her eyes.

There was a rippling in the air as she watched it extend to the girl beside her. She needed to test the theory. If no one noticed their presence walking by, they were home clear. However, she could already feel her body growing groggy. It was no light feat. Gabriel and Jehoel could easily shield their wings from humans, but they hadn't been stripped of their blessings. They were still in God's good graces. She was not. She chose to stand beside her brethren, but only because she had a duty to fullfill--that duty was watching over the girl beside her. I am the Hidden One. I am the Hidden One. No one shall see me. I may be out of touch, but I am still who I am.

Hana blinked twice, then proceeded to walk. ❝ Keep quiet and do not let go of my hand. They may not see us, but they can still hear us. ❞ she commanded in hushed tones. Her head twitched from side to side as she surveyed the halls. A tall black man with a buzz cut in white scrubs came walking by. Hana tensed, giving Joslyn's hand a firm squeeze. The Orderly whistled to himself as he walked by. She stood frozen against the wall until he was halfway down the hall before exhaling a sigh of relief. Her brow moistened with a bead of sweat. She hadn't been so tense in such a long time. It was unnerving. She gave Joslyn's arm a quick tug, signifying to resume walking, before making her way in the direction of the lobby.

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W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C
MOOD ※ TIRED ✖ DAY 2 ※ 3/5 ✖ DATE ※ 09/23/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ PARK
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Though school hours were still in, there was no way in hell that she was going back to school, and she didn't give a single damn if the headmaster was fed up with her or not. She was fed up with their shit, too. . . . But when she thought of Alicia, of Alice, Phoebe, and Alexander, her heart sank.

It was safe to say that she didn't have many friends -- and there were absolutely no complaints about that, but even someone like Hay Sun got lonely sometimes. Even if she did skip out on school completely, she wouldn't become some shut in who did nothing all day, but her friends . . . Most of the time, she saw them only at school and when they liked to come visit her at the shop, and if she stopped going to school, the times she would see them would be cut in half.

But Hay Sun had to ask herself: Were her friends worth going to school and putting up with other people's shit and getting the brunt of her actions? The answer wasn't one she wanted to think about -- but it was probably no. Her negative emotions on school aside, they would be worth it, but as the whole . . .

After a little while of basking in the sun's warmth, the girl turned to the bag that was attached securely to the back of her motorcycle and rustled through it, moving her school books and other items until she came to a leather back journal with a string of silver and a single charm keeping it closed. Setting it down next to her, she grabbed a felt tip pen and settled against the trunk of a tree to begin writing.​

Spoiler: ✖ E X C L U S I V E _ T H O U G H T S

When I was little, my mom used to tell me stories of magical creatures, like unicorns and phoenixes, about things like the Kraken, like Pegasus, and the mighty boar Gullenbursti. Things from mythology of all kinds, like the great Amaterasu. To me, those were all real things that were out there, in the sky, in the deep ocean, personifying the sun, the moon, the lighting during heavy rain.

As of late, something a little different has been introduced in my thoughts more often than ever before. Angels. Supernatural beings that can take on human forms, found in various religions and beliefs. I'd never really thought about them before because Christianity and Judaism are relatively foreign to me, and the idea of some man named, purely named, 'God' who created the world with his oh-so-mighty hands leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I'm not sure why. It might be because so many bad things happen in this world, and there is no god to save the good people which the bad things happen to.

Which brings me to a phrase Christians often say after someone or something has passed away: "They have gone on to a better place." They like to believe in God's great plan. Take murder, rape, or even a combination of the two -- were those in the great and caring God's great plan? That seems pretty shitty, to me. What to believe . . . Which is why I don't really believe in anything right now, or really care. Still, dreams to say something to me.

What more could be out there that I don't know about, or that I couldn't possibly hope to comprehend? Maybe there's more than one deity.

Next time.

With a sigh, Hay Sun closed her journal, and stood up, stretching. There was still much more for her to think about with this subject, so many thoughts she wanted to get down on that paper, but the school bells had all rung by now, and she needed to get back to the shop, soon. She wondered if religion might actually be just one, giant divine prank, or some cosmic joke by the universe to get all sentient life forms jacked up on like a drug and on each other like rabid dogs.

Some plan that would be. It made her think of her friend, Sophie. She could construct a plan like that, were she some sort of god created somehow by a wish. Hah.

With the thoughts in mind, almost rampant, they were, Hay Sun boarded her bike and headed back to the shop.​

 

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THE SHADOWY FIGURE CROSSED THE LENGTHS OF THE PARK. ALL AROUND HIM NATURE SEEMED TO BEND TO HIS WILL, PARTING WAYS LIKE THE RED SEA. LARGE BLACK WINGS STRETCHED OUT BEHIND HIM. HIS GAZE SHIFTED TO AND FRO, SEARCHING. THE BREEZE LIFTED THE ENDS OF HIS HAIR OFF THE SIDES OF HIS HEAD, BLOWING PRECARIOUSLY ABOUT HIS FACE. THERE. DARK EYES CAUGHT SIGHT OF THE ONE BEING SOUGHT AFTER. SHE HAD LONG DARK HAIR AND BRIGHT BLUE EYES. SHE WAS JUST PACKING UP HER BELONGINGS WHEN HE CAME WITHIN WALKING DISTANCE OF HER. SHE HADN'T SEEN HIM, NOT THAT SHE WOULD. HER EYES WERE UNTRAINED. NONE FROM THE MORTAL WORLD WOULD SEE HIM.

LIGHT BENT AND MORPHED AROUND HIM. HE WATCHED AS SHE CLIMBED ONTO SOME SORT OF HUMAN MACHINE AND BEGAN TO DRIVE OFF DOWN THE ROAD. A SLIGHT SMILE TUGGED AT THE CORNER OF HIS LIPS. THIS WOULD BE FUN. HIS CROOKED GRIN WAS STILL ON HIS FACE AS WINGS BEAT HEAVILY, SENDING A GUST OF WIND UP AROUND HIM. HIS FEET LIFTED FROM THE GROUND AND FLEW, HIGH ABOVE THE HUMANS AND EARTH BELOW.

HE WATCHED AS THE BIKE WEAVED THROUGH TRAFFIC IN WHATEVER DIRECTION SHE COMMANDED OF IT. THE THRILL OF THE CHASE WAS SUDDENLY COURSING THROUGH HIM. HIS FEET TOUCHED DOWN AS SHE PULLED INTO PARKING LOT OUTSIDE SOME SMALL SHOP. HE WAITED UNTIL SHE WAS OFF THE BIKE BEFORE REVEALING HIMSELF. LIGHT DISTORTED HIS APPEARANCE. NO MATTER WHAT ANGLE ONE LOOKED AT HIM, NO DISCERNABLE FEATURES WERE PRESENT, OTHER THAN THE FACT THAT HE WAS BEAUTIFUL. "PURIEL," HE COMMANDED IN HIS STRONG VOICE. "IT IS TIME YOU REMEMBER." HE POINTED ON LANKY FINGER AT HER, A GUST OF WIND BLASTING OFF OF HIM, SMACKING THE FALLEN ANGEL, BEFORE HE DISAPPEARED INTO NOTHING.

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