For heaven or hell, we shall not wait...

[hymnsofgenocide]

In the center of the Main Gauche's garden, there's a fountain. Standing on the edge of that fountain (because he's a tiny bastard, and he needs the height advantage so he can be found) is one Jeremy Taylor, guns and knives strapped to every portion of him in reach, and a sniper rifle in his hands

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[technicallyiam]

Missy's here with literal bells on (her collar today actually has a little tinkling bell) and... Not much else. She's actually just wearing a little faux-kimono (of the sort that are only kimono in that they vaguely look like them) for the benefit of an easy transformation when it comes to that, but she'd rather be human for the actual briefing. She'd have weapons on her, but she doesn't expect they'll do much good. Once she gets transformed, there won't be any going back.

She's also resisting the urge to make Napolean jokes here. She's a good soldier and will not disrespect her 'commanding officer' even if she is a snarky little bitch sometimes. Even when she was back in the militia, she held some iota of tact in the face of serious combat.

[sauntereddown]

Logan is positively gleeful. She's got a couple guns on her - just pistols, but she'll grab something more appropriate from her room when she heads up to the roof - and she's already gone around the complex quickly, dropped off a few... well... explosives in various locations, and she is looking forward to this. Chicago and coffee shops are nice and all, but Logan's happiest when there's fire and bloodshed on a larger scale.

She bounces up behind Missy and slides her arms around her, resting her chin on Missy's shoulder. "Hey, babe. Love the bell."

[technicallyiam]

"When I say I come with bells on, I mean it literally," Missy grins sweetly in that way that suggests that she could use those same teeth to tear your throat out. Not that she actually used the phrase 'with bells on' at any point, but, well, it was a implied cliche.

"Looks like it's going to be a real party." She takes one of Logan's hands and squeezes it tightly- not reassuring, because like they need that right now- they're fucking awesome- just an expression of excitement and a little bloodlust.

[sauntereddown]

Logan squeezes back, and grins. She can't quite match a behemoth for teeth-baring grins, but she hangs out with them enough, it's close. "Told you Chicago was the way to go for vacation." Only in special demon land is "war with archangels including the First among Firsts" a vacation in any sense of the word.

She kisses Missy's cheek and then disentangles herself from the other demon, eying Jeremy thoughtfully. "He's kind of tiny, isn't he?" She's one to talk.

[technicallyiam]

Missy giggles a little at the kiss and resists the urge to respond in kind, but... Well, they can concern themselves with that kind of affection when there's not an impending war.

And after that ordeal with those stupid humans, Missy's ready for some good old-fashioned archangel-killing.

"I was just thinking that!" Missy whispers back, covering her face with her hands like they're gossiping schoolgirls. Occasionally (or often), they are special, special girls. And Logan is allowed to be tiny. Rakshasa are meant to be a bit less so.

[hymnsofgenocide]

"Funny how, for all I'm tiny, I've got really good hearing." Jeremy smirks at the girls, not taking offense, for the time being. He's used to it, and if he has his way, he'll be proving just how fucking good he is by the time this is over.

"I'm guessing this is our lovely Behemoth and our sniper." He grins. "I'm waiting for a certain pain-in-the-ass Glaysa to get out here before I do the big speech, but in case there's no time, here's what I'm looking at having you do: Missy, you'll be covering the Glays while he mindfucks our angel friends, over at there." He points. "That's where they're most like to be pouring in, so we want to get as many of the bastards as we can. Logan, you're on the roof, over there, playing sniper."

[sauntereddown]

Logan flashes him a grin almost as bright as the one she gave Missy, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. "Yes, sah," she says with a cheerful, only partially mocking salute.

"I took the liberty of laying down a few explosives as well. There, there, there and... there. They just... happened to be in my room." Yes, just happened. Sometimes Logan feels the need to play innocent, for no discernible reason. "You might want to stay clear of those until I've had the chance to use them."

[wineandvenom]

Jeremy just nods. Better a few explosions than letting the bastards win. El can rebuild, if they're all alive to do the rebuilding.

...And that's when Eric runs up, still shirtless. "Heard you wanted me," he says, "I have to admit, I'm flattered."

"Don't get used to it, kid," Jeremy shoots back. "You're not that cute."

And they wonder why the narration snarks about them acting married.

"Right," Jeremy continues. "You'll be with Missy," and he points her out, "mindfucking the incoming angels as well as you can. She'll show you where to go, and she will cover you." He glares at them both for a second.

"Okay, kids, speech time! Start listening!" He waits for a moment, to make sure he's got everyone's attention.

[hymnsofgenocide]

Jeremy clears his throat. "Everyone paying attention? Good! If you're not, please shoot yourselves now and save the angels the trouble."

He looks into each pair of eyes. "Most of you, I've discussed just where I want you. If I haven't spoken to you personally, I want you at the entrances! There, there, and there!" He quickly points, singling out demons in the crowd and directing them where he wants them. "And I want a couple of you working the hallways, cleaning up anyone that gets past the rest of us."

He grins, and it's not a pleasnat grin at all. "Here's the thing. I don't like you. You probably don't like me. Most of us here are fucking demons, and we don't play well with others." A smirk, then. "But here's the thing, dumbasses. The angels do. And while I may not give a fuck about any of you, I'm thinking we all want to spite those sons of bitches, and take as many down as we can. We split up, we get pissy over who does what, and the fuckers win. And that thought kinda pisses me off." His accent is slipping as he warms to the