Unofficial-official meetings[Angels only]

[Uriel]

March 4, 2012
Rome, Italy

So this was what it was like beneath Sarqael's home?  It had been so long since she'd been in London.  The fun thing about being an angel was the fact she could see the variations in people and how they acted about one another.  

It went without saying that Uriel's holy eye went on to show her the life-sins of those around her.  The glowing tattoo was barely recognizable in the midst of the chaos.  Each person had their own story and each was just a toddler to Uriel.. yet- Uriel was a toddler to others.  How strange was that?  Thoughts came and left and Uriel found herself at a park where she could play with the children.  Of course children where their father's blessed people.  Well- up to a certain age, anyways.  Her energy was still low, so after a couple rousing games of tag, she had to sit and catch her breath.  

Maybe it would have been a good idea to relax a little longer, but her work constantly called her.  Seeing these poor children, then the people who would walk right by with the most angry of looks on their faces really bothered her.  If there was thing that Humankind went through with evolution- it was a lack of love to others.  Now, they seemed too far-obsessed in their own ways to stop and enjoy time with families and friends- or when they did they were so strained that they needed some sort of substance to mellow them out.  It was sad to her.  Had the fallen ones' hands clutched the people so hard?  

Her eyes watched the people go by and the day seemed to begin fading to dinnertime (or she assumed it was).  Leaning her head back, she crossed her legs at the ankles and wondered...  Why did she get such strange looks?  The cleric-like dress probably didn't look right out for a random day in public.  It didn't stop her from smiling at the people who passed her by.

[Azrael]

Mmmm….. It was rather shocking, London wasn't raining today. It wasn't even overcast or cold. It was actually a pleasant day given what was normal for the city. She still strode around in a pair of tight fitted black jeans, black combat boots, an artfully cut up shirt that hung over her slim frame, and a leather jacket over that which was left open. Her normal array of piercing were in with a chain dangling from the piercings at the top of her ear to the lobe. Deep red lipstick was on as her makeup was done perfectly without a hint of blush, just her eyes and lips. A black cigarette dangled from between her lips, painted nails pulling it away to exhale and tap away the ash that was there. A guitar case was strapped to her back as she walked along, short black hair flowing slightly about her head.

After her delightful meeting with Metatron the day before, it was time to waltz about the mortals again. Right now she was strolling down the street looking rather unremarkable except for her distinctly punky-gotchic sort of style and perhaps her guitar. A couple of rings were on each hand, one extending over the knuckle of her third finger as if it were a piece of armor mail. She exhaled slowly as her eye wandered around, sensing the life energy that was flowing all about this place with the people that strode by her. Glancing up to one window, she could see one of her brethren flying away with a young man held by his hand up towards heaven. The white wings shimmered as a particularly bright ray of sunlight as they flew away up to where he would know a better life. Part of her wanted to know what had happened, and part of her didn't at all. It was just another move in the cycle of life. All things had a beginning and an end.

Her eyes slid forward again as she let her cig dangle between her lips again, turning left to enter the park as people and couples and families skipped past her. She chose a bench that was in some quiet corner and placed her guitar case down, unzipping it to draw out the black acoustic with red accenting and just a hint of mother of pearl inlaid into the fingerboard. After a quick tuning, she began to play, parting those lips so that she could sing. It wasn't some pretty lilting voice, it was the voice of a rocker that was powerful and yet unobtrusive in this environment. The sun hung high overhead and there she sat playing until the rays turned the sky a brilliant red-orange with pink and blue hues.

As the air around her began to cool and she could sense the shift in those wandering about, Azrael rose up from her stoop and packed away the beautiful guitar once more, sighing lightly to herself as she cast her gaze around. Which way should she go now to examine the various lives of the mortals around? She pulled a pack out of her pocket and lit it up, breathing deep of those poisonous fumes when her gaze settled upon a singular, EXTREMELY distinctive figure. No one dressed like that ever. Or it had been a VERY long time since they had. A smirk spread on her lips as she strode over to the archangel, bowing her head respectfully to her superior as she exhaled smoke away from her. "Good afternoon, I wasn't expecting to see you here. Enjoying your time in London?" She called to her, refraining from using her angelic name for the moment as she stood a few feet away from her, remaining respectful of the fact that she was smoking.