Pack all your bags and lock all your doors, clear out the cities and pray for your little lives...
The basement lobby is full of archangels, most of them armed to the teeth. These are archangels moving to war, and not just a small operation with fifteen mostly-kids against a group of humans. These are archangels on the hunt, out for demon blood, and while there's the unmistakable feeling of unease in the air after last night, no one's willing to argue the call to war.
Romana moves through the tangle of bodies easily - people move out of her way fairly quickly, equal parts respect and fear just now. She intercepts Hart coming out of the hall and gives him a few brief instructions, which he accepts with a nod and a smirk. And then she's off looking for one more archangel among the crowd.
One of the archangels is unarmed. Apparently being involved on a disastrous mission that leaves two of fifteen angels alive gets you a free pass on operations like this. Martin Raske is in the lobby with his back pressed to one wall, arms crossed over his chest, looking vaguely nauseated as he watches Romana move in and out among the crowd of winged bodies. He's trying not to notice how no one will quite look at him except when they think he's not looking.
And there's a tiny guardian angel in the corner, biting her lip hard and practically vibrating with nervous tension. Grace can't quite decide where she belongs right now, and no one's bothered to tell her. She should come with them in case anyone gets hurt - and they will. She should go home to Des, stay with him just in case something happens, never mind that all logic says he should be well out of harm's way. God, she feels sick, and she can't stop replaying images of last night, of Vincent on the floor and angel's blood everywhere and flashing ambulance lights...
[[OOC: Mostly for Elena, but if any archangels/basement people want to run this like a party thread - that term has never been more inappropriate - and interact with each other before they all head out, go right ahead.]]
Romana moves through the tangle of bodies easily - people move out of her way fairly quickly, equal parts respect and fear just now. She intercepts Hart coming out of the hall and gives him a few brief instructions, which he accepts with a nod and a smirk. And then she's off looking for one more archangel among the crowd.
One of the archangels is unarmed. Apparently being involved on a disastrous mission that leaves two of fifteen angels alive gets you a free pass on operations like this. Martin Raske is in the lobby with his back pressed to one wall, arms crossed over his chest, looking vaguely nauseated as he watches Romana move in and out among the crowd of winged bodies. He's trying not to notice how no one will quite look at him except when they think he's not looking.
And there's a tiny guardian angel in the corner, biting her lip hard and practically vibrating with nervous tension. Grace can't quite decide where she belongs right now, and no one's bothered to tell her. She should come with them in case anyone gets hurt - and they will. She should go home to Des, stay with him just in case something happens, never mind that all logic says he should be well out of harm's way. God, she feels sick, and she can't stop replaying images of last night, of Vincent on the floor and angel's blood everywhere and flashing ambulance lights...
[[OOC: Mostly for Elena, but if any archangels/basement people want to run this like a party thread - that term has never been more inappropriate - and interact with each other before they all head out, go right ahead.]]