⍭he ℱallen

❖ MAP ❖ OOC ⟡ 7 & 1/2 Hours ❖ WEARING ❖
❖ DAY ⟡ 7 ⦙ 5/5 ❖ DATE ⟡ Saturday ⦙ September 28, 2013 ❖
❖ LOCATION ⟡ Mexican Village//Backside of Bar ❖ INTERACTION ⟡ Dante//Joslyn ❖


​

❝ All of it is your good side, Hana. As is with your friend too. ❞ There was a harsh tone to his voice. ❝ Fog will be happy to meet you two. He is currently holding all of my art supplies so we will get them from him. ❞ Salgiel replied as they walked through the bar. It was a little snippy in her opinion. Had she said something wrong? They exited the bar through the back door and warm wind blew at them. Just a few yards away was the stable. There were three horses inside. Salgiel waved his hand and a white one--the others were brown--came running gracefully up to them. ❝ You remember them, don’t you boy? ❞ He must have meant the drawings. Fog walked up to Salgiel and stood perpendicular to them.

Hana took a careful step back. She wasn't really a fan of horses--too many bad experiences over her lifetimes. She waited politely for Salgiel to pull out the drawings he mentioned, but by now it was getting late in the day and she was anxious to keep things moving. ❝ Salgiel," she started, ❝ if you don't mind me asking, I have a request. It's a pretty big one too. ❞ Hana took a deep breath of the stale warm air. She had to get this out. Even Joslyn hadn't heard the details yet. She need to--Joslyn!

She turned to the white-haired girl and quickly rifled through her pocket, pulling out the small vial. ❝ Sorry Joslyn. What I'm about to say, they can't hear. ❞ The less they know and are able to report back, the better. Hana uncapped the vial and spilled a little bit of the clear liquid over her fingertips. She touched her damp fingers, now covered in holy water, to Joslyn's forehead and began to draw a cross. She shut her eyes and her lips moved slightly as she said a silent prayer. When she was finished, Hana returned the vial to her pocket. Tomorrow is Sunday. She will have to get more at church in the morning. Hana gave Joslyn a lit pat on the cheek. ❝ I'm sorry if that hurts you at all. It is meant to burn away the demons inside, not you. ❞

Hana turned back to Salgiel and began again. ❝ About one week ago, Gabriel came to me. She warned me of an attack being prepared by the Morning Star and that we only have until the Winter Solstice to stop him. I need to gather our kind to fight. There is no guarantee that this will grant us a return passage to Paradise or even that we'll be able to stop him, but the Rapture is not upon us, so there is nothing that Heaven can do. We are the only chance the mortals have in defending themselves. ❞ She remembered her unanswered call from earlier and a look of dismay crossed her face. ❝ I fear something might have already happened. I need you to come with us. We have to stick together--train and prepare. ❞ Hana spoke confidently, but she felt nervous beyond belief. What if she couldn't do it? What would happen if she was unable to gather the resources for humans to survive?

​

 

“I have told him all about our little adventures in my dreams. He recognized you easily and so he is not being shy.” Dante patted the horse’s hindquarters, which made the animal neigh. “He is not temperamental, and will not try to run or hurt you if you would like to pet him. Just make sure he smells your hand first.”

His hand reached for a large tube that was strapped in behind the saddle. When it was released, the angel swung it around and set one side on the ground. Without any explanation of what was inside at the moment, he reached over again and took out a white scarf.

Salgiel turned to Hana, “In exchange for my jacket, you can have this scarf to drape over your shoulders. It will be a lot cooler so you won’t be so uncomfortable from the heat.” When Hana returned the jacket to him, he neatly folded it and tucked it away in one of the series of bags that were strapped to the saddle.

He returned to face them and put a hand on the tube, which stood about knee-height, and picked it up. “These are the drawings from my dreams. We may return to the patio of the bar to look at them now.” With a few steps forward, he made a path to go around the god forsaken building heat to the porch. Fog returned to the stable with another jump over the fence and laid under the shade of a tree that grew near the water supplied for the horses.

“Salgiel… I have a request… a pretty big one too.”

The angel looked to her as he continued walking, she definitely caught his interest.

Hana had gotten a vial out and started putting a cross on Joslyn’s forehead.

What the hell is she-?

“What I’m about to say, they can’t hear.”

Ah, so the girl has a bit of an infestation problem eh? Well, good thing I don’t really have that. One side is enough to handle.

“About one week ago, Gabriel came to me. She warned me of an attack being prepared by the Morning Star and that we only have until the Winter Solstice to stop him. I need to gather our kind to fight. There is no guarantee that this will grant us a return passage to Paradise or even that we'll be able to stop him, but the Rapture is not upon us, so there is nothing that Heaven can do. We are the only chance the mortals have in defending themselves.”

He sat down on one of the patio chairs. It was a good thing that there was two tables, each having four chairs, because they would probably be taking up a lot of room. The tube was set down on the table, but wasn’t opened.

“Dancing with the Devil is a dangerous task, especially if there is not much time to prepare. So if Mr. All-High-And-Mighty isn’t going to try and stop this, gathering he won’t send down any angels to help, then how many of us are there? It seems like a very pressing job for you, Xathaneal.”

 

​

W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C
MOOD ※ THOUGHTFUL✖ DAY 7 ※ 5/5 ✖ DATE ※ 09/28/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ ROOM
​

[/url]

Hay Sun listened to Cassandra relay her experience, all the while feeling a mixture of relief, nervousness, excitement, and shock that this was all real and that she wasn't just . . . crazy. If Cassandra was a real, breathing person and not some figment of psychotic BS that Hay Sun created from her disbelief of recent events, then the other people on the list were real, too. Would it be a good idea to call them as well?

When the man was described as 'didn't seem very angelic to me other than the wings', Hay Sun thought about supernatural and mythical creatures that could imitate angels — even though the original idea was crazy enough. It was probably best to try and not get ahead of herself with this stuff.

She tapped a finger on her desk, ❝So there's you, in America, and here I am in France.❞ she said, ❝I have a few other names of people that also live in different countries, and have been thinking of contacting them, now that you were a success. I just don't understand what this means — but I have a feeling that I know who I can get answers from.❞ She looked at the fiercely underlined SADIE-CLARE RENVICK on the small piece of paper.

Returning to the call, Hay Sun thought a few ways to continue the conversation, but she hated idle chitchat and niceties. Business was done, and even though she had a shitload of questions, Cassandra Hansen didn't seem like the proper person to get answer from. She sighed.

❝Alright Cassandra, thanks for your time. If anything else happens, any kind of weird ****, you should call be back,❞ Hay Sun said, writing a few things down, ❝I have a feeling that something like that might be soon, so. Until then, I'll try to talk to others . . . See if I can do anything. I call you back if something happens, or anything new pops up. Goodbye.❞

She clapped her phone shut, and then tossed it on her bed. After looking at the numbers once more, Hay Sun rubbed her face. What the hell was happening here?​

 

After a few more hours of shifting through webpages of information about Zadkiel, Tyson found nothing else interesting. Other then him being a one time Ghost Rider villain who used Johnny Blaze to over throw God and basically became the new devil. After that Tyson decides to go to bed, he had work tomorrow.

 

Joslyn Taylor Jones
DAY: 7 - 5/5 | DATE: September 28, 2013, Saturday | LOCATION: Mexican Village (Backside of Bar)

"All of it is your good side, Hana. As is with your friend, too." The stranger had spoken up. There was a harsh tone to his voice. "Fog will be happy to meet you two. He is currently holding all of my art supplies

"So this fool is a fallen angel, huh?"

"I guess so." They went to the backside of the bar, where there was a stable. Wow, there were horses in there. Three of them. Joslyn had never really seen one up close, or, at the very least, she couldn't remember seeing one before. The fallen angel had waved his hand and the white horse that stood in the stable jumped toward them, landing gracefully right in front of them. The sudden landing of the horse startled her, causing Joslyn to step back a little bit.

"You remember them, don't you boy?" The white horse came up to them and stood perpendicular to them. Hana seemed to take a cautious step back from the horse. Joslyn could hardly blame her, after all, the horse sort of just jumped right at them. Sort of.

Hana seemed to be anxious and started to speak, Salgiel, if you don't mind me asking, I have a request. It's a pretty big one too." However, before she continued on with her request, Hana had some kind of sudden realization and turned to face her. She pulled out a little vial from her pocket.

"What!? No, not this shit again!"

"Rraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah~! That biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch~!"

"Sorry Joslyn. What I'm about to say, they can't hear." Hana did the same thing she did the day she took her away from the Mental Health Facility. She moistened her finger a bit before tracing something on her forehead and chanting something under her breath. As she did so, the area she traced over began to burn. The burn became more intense as she finished her little chant. Joslyn closed her eyes tightly.

"SSSSHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

"NNNNGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH~!" Once again, Victor and Tessa seemingly vanished into the ether after Hana had finished.

"I'm sorry if that hurts you at all. It is meant to burn away the demons inside, not you." Hana gave her a little pat on the cheek. Joslyn knew that she meant well when she did this, but it still caused a painful burning sensation to flare up in her head. It would fade, but it was still unpleasant to deal with it. After it was over and done with, Hana turned her attention back to the fallen angel named Salgiel. "About one week ago, Gabriel came to me. She warned me of an attack being prepared by the Morning Star and that we only have till the Winter Solstice to stop him. I need to gather our kind to fight. There is no guarantee that this will grant us a return passage to Paradise or even that we'll be able to stop him, but the Rapture is not upon us, so there is nothing that Heaven can do. We are the only chance the mortals have in defending themselves." As she finished her little speech, a look of dismay washed across her face. "I fear something might have already happened. I need you to come with us. We have to stick together--train and prepare."

"Dancing with the Devil is a dangerous task, especially if there is not much time to prepare. So if Mr. High-And-Mighty isn't going to try and stop this, gathering he won't send down any angels to help, then how many of us are there? It seems like a very pressing job for you, Xathanael." It did seem like a heavy burden for Hana to carry. Still, so this is the reason she was gathering up all of these Fallen? To fight this Morning Star? The one responsible for the demons in her head? Maybe that's why she didn't really tell her all about this yet. Because of Tessa and Victor. Does that mean that they report everything they hear to him? That's... That's horrible!

 

Richard Carver:
{---Day 7 (5/5)---Date: September 28th, 2013---Location: Kristiansand, Norway (Richard's Apartment)---Mood:Bored---Ooc: N/A}

What a bother.
The day wasn't exactly the greatest one he could've been having. Sure it was as mundane as every other day, but both his blades broke during practice. Granted he probably shouldn't have been going as hard as he was there, but recently he's been slightly on edge and fencing was a good outlet. Random dreams that made little to no sense that often involved him dying trying to protect or guard something were plaguing him. He really didn't know how to make heads or tails of it, but after a few hours the care of finding what these dreams meant just sort of vanished. He really didn't want to put in the extra effort to "interpret" dreams, not to mention things like that usually were just total BS anyway.

Regardless of his brief periods of being on edge the days went just as normally as they would otherwise. As such he followed his normal routine of just opening his unlocked door,(because he never really bothered to lock it,) and walked into his apartment. With a very lackadaisical motion he threw his bag he was carrying full of his fencing gear into an area that was supposed to be for his eating area, but was more like a mock storage area. Like always, Richard's house was a complete and utter mess, but he didn't mind it and sure as hell wasn't going to make the place look neat. With the same lackadaisical motion he threw his coat he was wearing onto the fencing bag and walked over to his kitchen area.

After "making" his luxurious dinner consisting of complete microwavable foods he sat down on the couch and turned on the television. He just sort of sifted through all the channels, paying no mind to any news station or anything and eventually landed on a channel showing sitcoms. He continued to watch the sitcom while he just lay there eating. At this point he should probably be going to bed, but his couch was comfortable enough for him to just lay there for the night.

 

(x)Mood: Average (x) Location: Mexican Village (Inside Bar) (x)

First stop on Shane's list was the bar. Since he'd never been to one it was on his bucket list of things that he wanted to do. The actual drinking part could wait, he just wanted to see what it looked like from the inside. It a bit of time, mainly cause asking the locals didn't help as much as he had hoped, but he'd managed to find it soon enough.

For the most part it was close to the same as to what he's seen on tv. Most of the drinks were behind the counter and there where plenty of chairs to sit at. Shane just found himself an empty table to sit at while he looked around. There wasn't much planned for him to do right now beside look around, which was fine.

He managed to keep himself occupied by messing around with a coin that he hand in his pocket. It wasn't much but it was better than nothing.

 

[/url]​

Wearing --- Music ​

---Date: Saturday, September 28, 2013 ---Day: 7 | 5/5 --- Interaction: N/A --- Working: No--- City: New York City --- OOC: - - -​

​

"Alright... take care..."​

​

Cassandra shut off her phone and layed down in bed, staring at the ceiling in a long silence. So maybe she wasn't as insane as thought she was becoming. Cassie put the phone on her night table just as she heard a knocking at the door. Cassandra sat up quickly, then her roommate popped her head in and smiled.​

​

"I hope I didn't wake you, I just wanted to make sure you were okay and wanted to know if you needed anything."​

​

Cassandra chuckled lightly then replied, "You didn't wake me, actually I was just about to head to sleep. I don't need anything but thank you for asking."​

​

"Okay, I am going to be up most of the night if you need anything."​

"Any reason?"​

"Yeah, family issues I need to help out with."​

"Sorry to hear."​

"Okay, get some rest and I hope you feel better."​

​

Cassandra watched as Lillian left the room, she stared at the door for a few minutes, hoping she could call Lillian back in and tell her everything that has happened within the past two days, but for roommates they really didn't know each other well enough for Cassandra to bring herself to do that.​

​

Cassandra put her head back and closed her eyes, praying that she wouldn't have odd dreams, and could just sleep.​

​

​

[/url]​

​

Saturday, September 28, 2013 | Day 7: 5/5 | Mood: Happy | Music | Location: Home​

Nothing extremely interesting or new happened to Adam. He didn't watch T.V all day, but stayed in the house all day. He found other things to do with his time either way. At the end of the day he trudged over to bed and fell asleep pretty quickly.​

 

​

W E A R I N G ✖ W R I T I N G ✖ M U S I C
MOOD ※ SLEEPY✖ DAY 7 ※ 5/5 ✖ DATE ※ 09/28/2013 ✖ LOCATION ※ ROOM
​

[/url]

One stranger-call a day had been enough for her. Tomorrow, maybe she would consider calling one of the others. Maybe.

Had Cassandra Hansen really seen the same person Hay Sun had? They both had wings, it seemed, but . . . If that was true, then what were they looking for? What did they want?

She stared up at the ceiling in the darkness. Maybe something was coming . . . Something big — and Hay Sun and Cassandra, and all those other names, maybe they were apart of it. What made them so special, though?

Fucking questions . . . Too many questions.

Hay Sun yawned and flipped over onto her stomach, nestling into the covers. She almost hoped she had a dream, just to answer some goddamned questions. A few deep breaths later and she was off to sleep.​

 

Work had come and gone and like any other day, Alistair merely returned home for a nice relaxing cup of wine before falling asleep on his bed. He grew wary of the day's mishaps and he was far too curious as to who the guest were that the angels spoke of. Surely they were taking their time and Alistair couldn't help but feel curious about them. With the thoughts aside Alistair placed the glass away and without a word he fell asleep on his bed.

 

The fallen angel had grown tired and his eyes started to glaze over slightly. With a huff, he stood up pushed the chair in.

“Well the day is ending, my lovely ladies. I’ll return back to the motel for tonight. Tomorrow, we can continue talking about this and get on the road after. If you can, try to stay up as late as possible doing whatever you can to keep your minds busy. It is best to travel at night, so sleeping during the day will probably become the new normal until we get out of Mexico. Hana, you can keep the scarf if you want, I have plenty more. I bid you two goodnight.” He bowed to the two and looked at Joslyn. “You’re lucky you have white hair. It has been my dream since I was little to have white hair like yours. In this heat, I’m sure you are thankful for it.”

Salgiel grabbed the tube and headed off towards the back of the bar again. This time, he went to go get his pencils and such so he could draw through the night in the motel. When those were retrieved, he went to return to his motel room.

 

Joslyn Taylor Jones
DAY: 7 - 5/5 | DATE: September 28, 2013, Saturday | LOCATION: Mexican Village (Back to the Motel)

The angel Salgiel had stood up from his chair and pushed his seat in. "Well the day is ending, my lovely ladies. I'll return back to the motel for tonight. Tomorrow, we can continue talking about this and get on the road after. If you can, try to stay up as late as possible doing whatever you can to keep your minds busy. It is best to travel at night, so sleeping during the day will probably become the new normal until we get out of Mexico. Hana, you can keep the scarf if you want, I have plenty more. I bid you two goodnight." He took a quick bow and then set his eyes on Joslyn. "You're lucky you have white hair. It has been my dream since I was little to have white hair like yours. In this heat, I'm sure you're thankful for it." After hearing his comment, Joslyn simply cocked her head to the side in confusion. I wonder why he would say something like that...

After he left, both Hana and Joslyn went back to the motel to sleep for the night.

 

Soon enough Shane left the bar and headed to a nearby motel to stay for the night. after going through the process again, he climbed into the bed of his room and fell asleep.

 

​

DAY 8​

Sunday, September 29, 2013​

​

​

OOC: Trigger Warning‼​

​

​

Sirens wailed through the city air as the 747 began its noise dive towards the streets of Manhattan. People ran in frantic clusters, bumping into one another. Screams and shouts filled the air as the plane's descent quickened. Those below scrambled for safety, but there was little to no time to run for cover. It was headed towards them, barreling down out of the sky. In a matter of seconds the smooth white metal machine the size of a building would crush them to death. Debris would fly every which way. Those that managed to avoid being smashed, would most likely be hit with hunks of plane. Fires would blaze. It would take no time at all. The section of New York City that the plane crashed into would be utter chaos. The chaos was already beginning...​

​

There was little time to react. The pilot was headed to New York as he so often did. Everything was going smoothly. He had just turned on his Fasten Seat Belts light and flicked off the autopilot. Flight attendants were locking carts into their places and checking to make sure everyone had themselves situated properly for the landing. All the staff were now fastened into their own appropriate seats and the plane began to slowly descend. Then, out of nowhere, a man stood up. A red-haired flight attendant got out of her seat and approached him. "Sir, sir you need to return to your seat." He said nothing. The man was white with blond hair and his eyes were unusually black--black as coal. It was uncommon to see someone of Caucasian descent to have such dark eyes. Brown, yes, but never black.​

​

The flight attendant took another hesitant step towards him and all the awake heads had turned in their direction. "Sir, you need to sit down. We're about to begin our landing." He cocked his head to the side and a sinister smile cracked his lips apart. It was the most disturbing thing the woman had ever seen. She reached out for him and his hand snatched her wrist.​

​

"Mollyyyyyyyy," he hissed, reading her name tag. His tongue flickered in and out of his mouth like a snake and she tried to rip her wrist free. His grip tightened and she could feel it beginning to bruise. A man in the row beside Molly stood up and tried to help, but the one with black eyes flicked his other wrist and the man went flying against the side of the plane. Molly screamed and the passengers sat wide-eyed with mouths agape. No one knew how to respond. Someone else stood and began to charge him, and just as easily as the first, was sent flying.​

​

Molly tugged on her wrist and his nails sliced her skin. She gasped from the sudden pain and blood began to ooze out of her wrist. It trickled lightly at first, but then began to flow more heavily. He somehow managed to cut a major vein in her wrist. She began to feel light headed and braced herself with the back of the seat. People continued to rush the man, but the bone crushing sound of their limp bodies slamming against the walls of the plane were all that they could succeed in. He dug his nails deeper into Molly's wrist. His tongue snaked out again and he lapped some of the blood off of her arm. She squirmed in disgust. When he lifted his head, his mouth was covered in blood. "Wh-why...?" was all she could muster.​

​

Her knees buckled first, then her head slammed against an armrest. He was still holding onto her wrist and her arm made a sickening twisting sound. Her shoulder dislocated. He tossed Molly's arm aside and stepped over her, in the direction of the cockpit. Some had given up hope on stopping the man, while others suffered the same fate as those that passed. Women kept their heads down low, covering their children from his sights, not that he actually cared about any one type of person in particular.​

​

A male flight attendant came out from the front with a gun in hand, standing between the man and the cockpit. He was tall, slim, and black. His suit clung tightly against his form and his hair was buzzed off. He aimed the gun and fired. The bang of the gunshot echoed loudly through the plane, and when he lowered the gun, he saw that the man was uninjured. There was a sharp pain in his chest and he looked down in time to see a warm red liquid pouring down the front of his clean white shirt. The cotton stained crimson and the buttons were slick with blood. He raised the gun and fired a second shot--another pain in his chest and he slumped to the ground against the wall. Blood trailed down the wall behind his back. His head lulled to the side and his chest rose and fell irregularly. His breath was wheezy and he could feel the life slipping out of him.​

​

No one tried to stop the man anymore. A few people sat low and quiet in their seats, saying prayers. He could hear the whispers to the man they called God or Allah, and those few were sent soaring against the ceiling of the plane without even a glance back. By the time he reached the cockpit, the pilot was quickly doing his best to land the plane as fast as possible, but there was only so much he could change in it's descent time. The co-pilot was the first to see him enter the small room and a thin red line began to dribble down his throat. He gagged and spluttered out blood. The co-pilot clutched his throat in an attempt not to drown in his own blood, but it was too late.​

​

The captain turned his head, blue eyes wide with fear. He was tossed against the windshield and his head made a crunching noise as it hit the glass. His eyelids shut and landed on the control panel. There were voices coming through a headset and he lifted it with one finger. It dangled in front of his face and he spoke two words into the microphone attached. "He risessss," he hissed once more. The man man collapsed to the ground and a black shadow lunged through the window, escaping the plane.​

​

Down it came . . .​

​

​

 

​

Wearing --- Music ​

---Date: Sunday, September 29, 2013 ---Day: 8 | 1/5 --- Interaction: N/A --- Working: No --- City: New York City --- OOC: - - -​

​

Cassandra was fast asleep within an amazing dream. She was on a boat, a little row boat in a pond, similar to the ponds in central park. Cassie was eating from a picnic basket and she felt a warmth from the sunlight that made her feel happy and content. Then she turned to see someone standing on the water and she freaked out. She sat there for a moment just staring before she opened her mouth to speak. The person was almost a shadow against the sunlight, but she couldn't define gender. But she saw wings, and heard it whisper something before she could talk, "Get out of that area now."​

​

Cassandra's eyes quickly, she stared at the ceiling for a second before she head a loud booming noise, it was absolutely horrifying and loud. Seconds later she heard another smashing noise, much closer and a scream. She shot up and sat for about a minute in shock before her roommate came running into the room, "Cassandra we need to get out of here NOW."​

"Huh what, why what was that?"​

"Fucking 9/11 all over again except if we don't get out of here now we are not going to be as fortunate."​

​

Cassandra stood up, grabbing her phone as she did, and ran out of the room and stared in horror at the broken window of their apartment. She walked up to it slowly and saw a piece of a plane before Lillian pushed her and tried to pull her to the door, "Don't bother looking out the fucking window the building across the street is falling apart in OUR DIRECTION."​

​

Cassandra ignored her and ran over to the window, she couldn't help it, it was human instinct to stare at something wrong. That was one of the major reasons for highway traffic during an accident, not because the accident is in the way, but because everyone wants to see what happened and what went wrong.​

​

Cassandra froze at the sight of the building and felt Lillian tugging her arm, "We are being evacuated can you PLEASE BE RESPONSIVE."

She shook her head to get herself out of shock and looked at the piece of the plane in her house, and it wasn't much at all. It was a piece of the metal, a small piece that could easily fit in her pocket. She walked over quickly to touch it and it burned her hand. Lillian stared in disbelief at her and Cassandra, despite the pain, picked it up and put in her pocket. Why? She didn't know and she didn't care. Then she let Lillian pull her out of the room.

The streets were an utter chaos where she was, the impact zone was a few blocks away but the damage made it this far, she was not surprised, but she was still afraid. There were no officers there yet, or very few. She could hear them coming, all the sirens, but because there was no definitive authority everyone was running away, screaming. There were injured people everywhere, even if not physical, and next to her was a mother yelling frantically for her children. She prayed they just ran off afraid during the confusion and nothing worse happened.

Cassie did not stop, Lilly pulled her along, running towards the subway. Now why was that she was wondering, is it the instinct to get to lower ground or did she seriously think the subway would still be in service? Cassandra took control at that moment and pulled her away from the subway, "Sorry but we are so close to the bridge if we run that way now we can get out of here and go. Sorry but I am not staying trapped on this island like I did when I was twelve... not again, never again!"

 

​

"New York Air Traffic Control? Come in, Air Traffic Control. This is flight 8-4-9-D-B-ALPHA. We have a situation."

"8-4-9-D-B-ALPHA, this is Air Traffic Control. What seems to be the problem?"

"There's a man, he's hijacking the plane. There's something... Something strange about him. He has no weapons. He flicks his wrist and people fly across the cabin and crash into walls. He has killed one of our flight attendants already with just his hand. He's coming this way! The man is white--most definitely white--with blond hair. He's dressed in business wear. It makes no sense! He's not dressed like the typical hijacker. There's a--BANG. BANG.--shots have been fired! I repeat, shots have been fired! People are screaming! I can't keep the passengers under control. I'm about to begin an emergency landing. The bridge up ahead might be large enough. N-no, no it's not. I'm going to aim for the river and deploy the floatation devices. I won't let him get what he--"

"8-4-9-D-B-Alpha? Come in 8-4-9-D-B-Alpha! Are you there? I repeat, 8-4-9-D-B-ALPHA, are you there?"

Silence. . . .

"He risessss. . ."

​

 

Spoiler: In my time of dying

A very sick elderly man is hastily writing in a old leather journal. 'I fear when my life ends in this form, so shall my memories.' was the first line on top of the page. 'Then will I truly be me in my next form? I can feel it already. My memories, I can only remember the more intense moments. And even then the faces are blank, even mine. Although writing what I do remember In this journal helps.' the elderly man continued to write, with his hand shaking, barely able to grasp the pen. 'I've seen a few of my brothers and sisters who share the same fate as I. Few recognized me. I find myself recalling more and more the moment that Gabriel informed me I was banished. Perhaps I should have chosen to ask forgiveness. But I still believe it was worth it. But I wish my memories would be more vivid about the good times of my lifetimes. And less accurate on the moments of death. Death of my wives, husbands, mothers, fathers, brother, sisters, sons, and daughters to be more precise.' The old man began to couth up blood. 'I realize that any soul who reads this will think me mad, but as long as one reads this, then nothing I have done in my lifetimes is forgotten. Signed Zadkiel' The man finished the page of the journal and shuts the book, lays down in his bed and closes his eyes.

Tyson woke up, gasping for breath. "Man, I need a shrink." Tyson said as he got out of bed. He walked into his kitchen, rubbing his eyes. He poured himself a bowl of cereal, and moved to his couch. He turned on the news channel. The host was less chipper then normal, but of course the only news was the plane crash in Manhattan.
After he ate, took a shower, and got dressed he went on to work.

 

​

❖ MAP ❖ OOC ⟡ PLEASE READ! ❖ WEARING ✔ ❖​

❖ DAY ⟡ 8 ⦙ 1 /5 ❖ DATE ⟡ Sunday ⦙ September 29, 2013 ❖​

❖ LOCATION ⟡ Church ❖ INTERACTION ⟡ ✖ ❖​

​

​

​

Hana was up early and at the small catholic church in the village. There was one thing you could definitely count on with Mexicans, and that was being highly religious. In the few times she had been to the country, she had noticed that most every church was catholic. It made her job easier. Not many churches kept holy water out in the open or used frequently. Catholics had to purify themselves in it before every service. Other Christianic religions only used the substance during special occasions like baptisms.

She scooped the vial into the birdbath-like alter bowl that held the holy water. Hana wished their was a convent nearby, or even an abbey. It was easier to explain her situation to the sisters. They were far more willing to believe in her than was a priest. She slipped the vial back into the side pocket of her backpack and took a seat near the front of the church. She had dipped out of the motel before anyone else was up. Hana didn't intend to stay for the whole mass, but did need some time to think. She hoped Gabriel would come to her again, but knew the odds of that were slim to none. Her hand hesitantly flew to the largest pocket of the bag and she felt for the slim velvet box inside. It was still safe.

Bringing weapons into a church was probably bad juju, but at this point, she could care less. Hana sat by herself as the town locals shuffled into the church. It was hot and stuffy in the room, but she dressed lightly in appropriate Sunday-churchgoing wear.

Salgiel said he would come with them. That was good news. A rosary was wrapped around her left hand, and her right flew to the compass under the collar of her dress. It was still warm, and even without looking, she could easily guess that the needle was bouncing back and forth between two different points. Did that mean there was another fallen angel nearby besides the three of them and Abaddon? Who?

​

 

​

Wearing --- Music ​

---Date: Sunday, September 29, 2013 ---Day: 8 | 1/5 --- Interaction: N/A --- Working: No --- City: New York City --- OOC: - - -​

​

To no surprise, everyone was trying to get off of Long Island. When she had gotten Lillian to the bridge they were already road blocked. Cassandra stood for a moment before she ran up to him and yelled, ​

"Fucking hell! There is no one at the impact zone but you won't let people leave?!"​

"Ma'am I am afraid I have to ask you to please step back and go home. If you cannot go home, find somewhere that is safe and out of danger."​

​

"Yes yes, safe and out of danger. LET ME ON THIS FUCKING BRIDGE!"​

"Ma'am-"​

"Don't ma'am me, let me on the fucking bridge!"​

Lillian pulled her away and yelled, "As much as I would love to be arrested right now-"​

"Cut the crap Lilly! Where are we supposed to go?"​

"Back in the subway?"​

"I am certain it is crowded."​

​

Lillian pulled her and ran her back into the chaos, the sirens, the screams, the news reporters attempting to get their in on the situation. They eventually ran into a place where the news was streaming and like others around them, they couldn't help but stop to see what was going on.​

​

"This just in, the plane crash in Manhattan has been confirmed an intentional attack on American soil, however we have yet to confirm which association it is partnered with..."​

​

Cassandra listened as a man behind her yelled, "It is probably Al Qaeda, getting revenge!"​

"WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!"​

​

The heard a fight break out behind her, the sounds of it horrifying, the men were actually trying to kill each other. But she was not going to be an angel and help them, she didn't want to get killed.​

​

"This just in, we have a report in from Air Traffic Control, the message sent from the pilot during the hijacking."​

​

The fighting stopped behind her and within their area, other than the background, everyone was silent as the record played. The sadness in the pilot's voice as he spoke. Near the end, she heard the cut off and the silence was deafening, then what broke it was even worse.​

​

"He risessss. . ."​

​

The silence followed again, as the news report continued, everyone in shock, everyone not knowing what to do. The noise was so inhuman, and the report only made it worse. Cassandra had a sickening feeling, that this was another chapter in the strange 3 days that she now had. ​

With the silence still there, a terrifying scream of agony and confusion broke it, and everyone who heard it stared at the source. It was a woman's voice and the woman was covering her face and crouched down to the ground crying.​

​

That woman was Cassandra.​