Aziraphael is sitting in a booth with a cup of tea, pulling a scone apart. The pieces, by now, are exceedingly small.

Occasionally he remembers to eat a bit.

Raguel closes the door behind him as he comes in and crosses to take a seat on a stool at the bar. Last time he was here, he saw a way home through that door, watched people he knew step into it and remained still as it closed behind them.

He doesn't expect to see such a thing again.

But he can't help keeping an eye on it.

Raguel is in the bar, wary expression in place. Every time he comes in lately, he half expects to find corpses scattered across the floor. With very good reason.

Feel free to tell him just how good.

Halloween wasn't exactly celebrated in France until after Montparnasse's time, and he hasn't heard anything about it in the bar, so he was rather confused when he woke up to find only priests robes where his clothes should have been. He was rather suspicious that this might be Yeliel's doing, or the work of someone else he pissed off. But he'd ( Read more... )

Illyria's sitting out by the lake. If you had the misfortune of speaking with a much grumpier and slightly sickly blue demon goddess earlier, she's feeling much better, the effects of the hellcandy having worn off considerably ( Read more... )

Raguel is late to the bar, looking tired but otherwise none the worse for wear. He takes a seat in the back and gets comfortable. After a few minutes he can be seen twirling a dingy, broken feather between two fingers.

[OOC: Raguel grills Thom at length on his history, love & Lucifer. The Archangel Michael drops in and spews vitriol and Lucifer ( Read more... )

Illyria is in the bar. Still in human clothes, though she is blue as usual otherwise ( Read more... )