(no subject)
Elashte is in one of the sunrooms of the Main Gauche, looking rather effete in a sweater and trousers and playing something long and technically complex on his beloved violin. Peace talks have gone as well as they could have and documents were drawn up, but the problem is that no one will respect them unless signed by both a Neqa'el and a first Angel, and while he is one, the other seems to be in short supply.
Ashley's gone back to Vegas and sent the next crop of influential figures up to meet with him, and Elashte's been writing those loyalty triggers into them as well. Loyalty among demons is a tricky beast, but he's more than capable of instilling it through honest or underhanded means. A few of the new demons he's considering keeping here - he could use a small militia. Once the accords are signed he'll no doubt be expected to keep the local demons in line, and forces may be necessary for that.
But for now, he's clearing his mind. Anyone is welcome to come have a chat with him, or to listen to him play - a few centuries' practice makes him quite the violinist indeed.
The Rani is in her lab doing something unspeakable to a pigeon and is probably not amenable to interruption, but just outside of her lab sits Specimen 139, who is working on forming diphthongs. The Rani's been... altering... her favorite pet again. While the grand majority of speech sounds (and, you know, a grasp of grammar) are still beyond her, S139 is working her way through the vowels.
In the city of Chicago, Malek Asenath is being grumpy in the Grant Park snow. See, the thing about winter is that it's not good for giant cold-blooded lizards, and that's put a damper on his shifting. Sure, it's fine for the odd game of scrum, but not for just raptoring out.
And he doesn't have another Anya. And Suzie is busy. And... he really should just find another young, impressionable demon and kidnap her, shouldn't he? In the mean time, he's just going to nurse his economy-size hot chocolate from one of the local coffee shops. You know, one of the ones that didn't blow up or burn down.
In the basement of the Conrad Hotel for once, cooling down from a workout session by lounging in the commons room with a smoothie (she invaded the kitchen in search of fruit and blenders), Dmitri Lang is taking more enjoyment than one might expect a sort-of Angel of Knowledge to take from the fact that she is becoming certifiably Archangel-trained in the ancient art of asskicking. It takes the edge off the sudden discovery that she turns into things for no reason other than the Doctor pokes at things like a career five-year-old.
Though the raven form is nice. She can fly. Even with her old wings, she could only ever glide. Granted, the longing for carrion isn't the best of all discoveries, but...
And finally, in the Kashtta Tower, there's a little 5'2" Guardian Angel by the name of Andy Mackenzie scouting out the offices and wondering if anyone would mind if she started putting up pictures. Potted plants. Wall hangings. Anything. ...especially to cover up some of the remaining bullet holes peppering the walls.
So far as getting her first Ward goes? This is not encouraging.
Ashley's gone back to Vegas and sent the next crop of influential figures up to meet with him, and Elashte's been writing those loyalty triggers into them as well. Loyalty among demons is a tricky beast, but he's more than capable of instilling it through honest or underhanded means. A few of the new demons he's considering keeping here - he could use a small militia. Once the accords are signed he'll no doubt be expected to keep the local demons in line, and forces may be necessary for that.
But for now, he's clearing his mind. Anyone is welcome to come have a chat with him, or to listen to him play - a few centuries' practice makes him quite the violinist indeed.
The Rani is in her lab doing something unspeakable to a pigeon and is probably not amenable to interruption, but just outside of her lab sits Specimen 139, who is working on forming diphthongs. The Rani's been... altering... her favorite pet again. While the grand majority of speech sounds (and, you know, a grasp of grammar) are still beyond her, S139 is working her way through the vowels.
In the city of Chicago, Malek Asenath is being grumpy in the Grant Park snow. See, the thing about winter is that it's not good for giant cold-blooded lizards, and that's put a damper on his shifting. Sure, it's fine for the odd game of scrum, but not for just raptoring out.
And he doesn't have another Anya. And Suzie is busy. And... he really should just find another young, impressionable demon and kidnap her, shouldn't he? In the mean time, he's just going to nurse his economy-size hot chocolate from one of the local coffee shops. You know, one of the ones that didn't blow up or burn down.
In the basement of the Conrad Hotel for once, cooling down from a workout session by lounging in the commons room with a smoothie (she invaded the kitchen in search of fruit and blenders), Dmitri Lang is taking more enjoyment than one might expect a sort-of Angel of Knowledge to take from the fact that she is becoming certifiably Archangel-trained in the ancient art of asskicking. It takes the edge off the sudden discovery that she turns into things for no reason other than the Doctor pokes at things like a career five-year-old.
Though the raven form is nice. She can fly. Even with her old wings, she could only ever glide. Granted, the longing for carrion isn't the best of all discoveries, but...
And finally, in the Kashtta Tower, there's a little 5'2" Guardian Angel by the name of Andy Mackenzie scouting out the offices and wondering if anyone would mind if she started putting up pictures. Potted plants. Wall hangings. Anything. ...especially to cover up some of the remaining bullet holes peppering the walls.
So far as getting her first Ward goes? This is not encouraging.