Midnight Angel: The Tale of Starcrossed Love (Cittàgazze and LithiYum)

[Cittàgazze]

Black folds opened like the veil of eternity cast aside in lightly breed air. Eyes of a crimson tide flickered and to.him the earth was born anew. Death and rot surrounded dark citadel and filled the air rank. And amongst the caw of carrion crows, there in sickening revolt, flew a chorus of angelic beings, great wings bringing them to the sky. Oh how they wept for the destruction of so many and yet not one descended to the earth to find the source of such malice. They feared the man of Multitudes, he called the Hand of Tribulation, and he likewise feared them. Lith footsteps brought the black clad man to cracked wondows overlooking the fields that had stained red. The same red that stained his hands and the blade dubbed the Blade of Retribution. Hunger ravaged against his stomach and for some reason the smell of fresh death smelled delectable.
It was half past noon, later in the day than he would have preferred it and it was sweltering hot and humid in his black suit. Long strides took him past the bloated bodies and black birds took off with a ruckus; they weren't happy one bit it having their feast disturbed by the one that brought it to them. A baby's cry rang out and the Multitude hissed in protest. They hated life, and none more so than infants. But Cittàgazze had a heart, blackened and cold as it was. Ears perked and head turned towards the noise. It came from a bramble of bushes. /The mother must have hidden her,/ Cittàgazze thought to himself as he pushed away the branches and cradled the girl. She was white as alabaster and those blue eyes were home to innocence. The Multitude hissed again. He was at an impass for a part of him wanted the child dead while another another wanted her to live. But what would the family think? Under his breath he spoke, "Vile. Phoenix. Daziel. Honey. Zachariah and Favlos," he called out. "What should I do?" But before he could answer the babe went pale and passed. He once more bit the urge to devour the infant and lay her down. A upward facing right palm made it look as though his arm rested 'pon an invisible table. From the palm, four scarlett orbs lifted twenty feet in the ground and henceforth spread in a square with twenty yard long lengths that connected with insubstantual spiritual energy. And from these a fence formed around Cittàgazze with only a finger's breadth from each other.

But as he spoke the babe grew cold and still. Narry a breath of air moved to still the buzzing flies. But it was late in the day and he had elsewhere to be. Beyond the sound of the Multitude he heard another voice. This one was also familiar; the sound of Daziel, his sister's husband and a man that he would call "brother." His brother was calling him and he needed to go. Casting his mind outward he heard:

Slowed breathing let him to cast his mind out and suddenly he heard it through the noise of the Multitude:

First came Warden.

"Lord Daziel, perhaps you are aware what amount of tactlessness it shows to bring an army to a peace negotiation? Or how arbitrary to the point of such a thing that action is to that point?"

And then Daziel.

"This is how you greet me, you poke at me... you claim me as untrustworthy, you surround me with men and women who do not even falter whilst gazing upon me, with scorn in their eyes? To shame... but, maybe all can be forgotten... Come to me, Hand of Redemption."

That was how they were able to get ahold of each other. And this was what he was waiting for. He stood upright for a moment to compose himself slightly. This was it. The curtain was opening and the stage was his. In his left hand a slight waver in the air of a light red color was all that was seen of the spirit that promptly turned into a fedora that was dark red in color. It was one of the many tricks he could pull out of his hat by manipulating the spirits. And it felt as though a spirit cleansing rain was in the forecast.
Darkness deeper than deep opened up in the adjacent air and with a smile, Cittàgazze stepped through.

.....


/Drip, drip, drip./ The high ceiling didn't fall victim to a single crack yet even above the noise of a roaring flame of hellfire the noise was heared. It was one of those noises that made a normal man cringe as though a egg was broken over his head.
/Drip, drip./ Black as tar and thick as tar the very essence of what was most vile. And still it dripped and never it pooled, but rather it became a grain similar to ash. And from this ash a haze of multiple hues wafted from and in the circulating vortex of flame the grains of ash took to lifting amongst the haze and that flame touched the ash. Like gunpowder it turned to smoke of a dark black. The haze onsumed the smoke and the form of a man took place. And that man was Cittàgazze. He stood beside the Lord of Purgatory himself and to his other was Zachariah. /Oh Zachariah,/ He thought to himself, /you're still two points behind./ He took to lean his right shoulder against the King's head and side of Daziel.

"Mine brother. " His voice was marred just as his face. It sounded like a multitude at once. A rare smile lit up his face for a moment, but because he was in the den with the fox, it faded quickly. And his look turned to Warden, a man who was large and imposing. Because he could not at first see why Warden ar first thought a army was brought, his question was answered at once. "Warden. We come as witness to the precedings that transpire here today." He paused for a moment to reach deep into his pocket, his left as his Soul Blade 'the Blade of Retribution' was attached to his right hip. From it he got out a bloody hunk of afterbirth and took a bite. "We are many and one. We are not ignorant." He let the afterbirth fall to the ground and held up his hands parallel to the ground with his palms up. From each palm, two purple orbs rose up and drifted to each upper corner of the room and their light began to glow brighter. From them series of bars and rods formed insubstantually although the soul of anyone who passed through either in this plane of existence or by going to another would find themselves taken captive. "There," he said, "now we talk." The outcome was a Gate with pencil thin bars only a finger's breadth apart running from the floor to the ceiling. The soul energy given off fed the room. It deepened shadows that painted the walls black and when it touched the hellfire the flame seemed to burn even brighter. And around his neck was a necklace. And the necklace was of seven keys he alone could use. And the locks they went to were of mind, body, spirit, balance, heart, life, and death.

At once his eyes snapped to Delk and to Zachariah, to each and every face in the room before turning once more to Warden. "Now, sir," he said with a wide smile. A deep bow was given and extended right hand which ended as fast as it happened. "Shall we have a drink?"

 

[Rogue]

Life was many things, there seemed to be many different forms. However, for this woman, there was only here and now. It was all she cared to focus on. Perhaps, in an earlier time, there had been more to her, something that held some kind of significance, that gave her vibrancy. However, she'd cast that piece of herself aside. It was no longer a suitable way to survive. She traded warm smiles for stoic expressions. She traded the warmth of affection for the harsh reality of a woman closed off to the rest of humanity. Closed off was safe. And in her line of work... it was effective. It was how you survived. Moreso under the thumb of Warden. The man dealt with dangerous things, seeking to leak his empire where ever his influence could stretch.

Apparently, there was to be a rather important gathering today. Although nothing more than that had been said, Aurora had been volunteered to stand at his side as his witness, a member of his family. This being said, Aurora was fairly certain the only reason he would have a woman at his side during any kid of gathering was as a distraction. And Aurora, herself, was quite distracting. She had olive colored skin, matched with crimson eyes and platinum blonde hair. As light as the sun itself. Her figure was kept at it's athletic best, as (even as a woman) she would at times be in the line of battle. She'd had a few kills under her belt, although she was more akin to the stealth kills, the one to call when you absolutely wanted to make sure that no one saw it coming. Perhaps that was the reason she was here with him.

However, she'd wiped all that clean from her mind as she noticed Daziel seated not far from Warden. This was much deeper than she had previously assumed, as the two familias did not often wish to be under the same roof unless necessary. They had a rather... loose alliance with one another, had co-existed peaceably despite all of Warden's nagging and bitching about what should and shouldn't be. The woman was stiff, even as she was directed to take a seat.

He'd been lavish with her this morning, bathing her in fine oils, having her hair tied up in elegant braids so that it did not fall around her breasts. A white dress hugged over her form, neither formal nor casual in nature. It was relatively low cut, revealing the curved tops of sizable breasts and relatively decent in length, as it stopped just a few inches short of the top of her knee. However, there was a slid that ran along the right thigh, stretching nearly high enough to reveal the woman's unmentionables should she move too unfavorably. Expensive white stilettos clung to her feet, opened toed and laced about her ankle.

She had been relaxed, more or less, until the roar of hellfire reached her ears. Her gaze cast upwards. She had clearly sorely misunderstood the ramifications of this meeting. More importantly, she misunderstood the situation that she had allowed that bastard to place her in. Not that it was the first time he'd put her in a compromising position. And, if she lived to see the next, it likely would not be the last. Crimson eyes studied each more the male who seemed to drip from the ceiling made, as dapper as he himself was. The sickening sound of the afterbirth slapping against the floor had nearly caused the woman's upper lip to curl in disdain, but she had somehow managed to house her distaste for the display. That was truly all this was. At least, she'd assumed so, but as the gate was formed, that certainty began to waiver.

At the mention of a drink, the Warden glanced towards her. Naturally, he wouldn't allow anyone else to fix him anything he would ingest, after all. There were very few people in the room who wouldn't have benefited from his death. And so, stand she did, moving towards the necessary area to fix his drink of choice. And once this was done, she returned to his side, setting the drink before him and settling back down in her assigned seat. It was then that he'd pushed the glass towards her. The blank expression twisted into something that could have almost mirrored amusement as she took the glass in her hand, fearlessly taking a rather heavy sip before moving the glass back towards him.

“Pity that after all this time, you don't trust me.” She commented, letting her hands fall into her lap as she crossed her legs, one after the other. “Or perhaps it is you do not trust them, and I am merely expendable... I'm wounded.” Of course, this was a sizable amount of sarcasm, one that the woman was known for, and one that Warden often discarded. If the woman hadn't been as useful as she had been the last few years, it was likely that he would have already discarded her for a.... newer model.

Eyes shifted now, resting on the standing male. Daziel must have been serious to call him. And this being said... Aurora was certain she knew what was happening here. A war was in the brink. Here there would either be an olive branch extended... or Warden would sign the fate of hundreds of innocent lives, caught in between the two families. Not that it was the first time it'd happened, but regardless.