((OOC: Another party thread. You know how it goes. And if you don't... ask! ^^ Happy Riftversary! Even if it's two hours until... it's over. :/ I'm sorry I'm slow
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Your life is not going to get any less complex today, Sydney.
Missy's prowling around, having had a few more drinks. The bar's starting to hop a bit more with people filing in from the parade and she's looking for someone, anyone interesting.
And what's this? A doppelganger? Missy's first reaction is to bristle a little bit from across the bar, because how dare someone with her face show up here. That's like showing up to a party in the same dress, only... Worse. And generally more unlikely.
...And then she remembers- didn't her little boy-toy mistake her for some girl? Cindy or something? ...No. Sydney. That was it. Oh, this could be fun and she's been hurting for some payback ever since that ordeal in the park. There's a chance she could be wrong, but Missy likes taking chances and if she isn't the same girl, then... Well, she has her face. That is a very serious crime. (Yeah, like Sydney can help it
( ... )
All Julia wanted, really, was a quiet drink. Or at least to finish her drink before getting into a fight, and God damn it, always with the demons, fucking things up. Well, she'd heard Chicago was interesting - after all, if a place like this can destroy a woman like the First Among Firsts
( ... )
This is officially Missy's least-favorite night ever. She howls in pain when something snaps in her wrist and then proceeds to shoot the newcomer a disgusted grimace- fucking coldbloods, always mucking about when they should just tend to their own business- but she can't really do much else other than breathe heavily and look annoyed, all while her wrist hurts like hell"Yeah, sure," she growls, giving Sydney a deeply murderous look. One day there won't be angels around to save her and then she is going to end her and her little boyfriend too
( ... )
"Fu-u-uck," Casey hisses, grunting in an incoherent expression of pain, when Logan breaks his arm. The crack that he hears? Yeah. It's broken. Of course, it's not like this is his first broken bone. He's had more broken bones than he can count.
The pain is something that he can get a hold of after a moment of controlled breathing, but fuck. It's hard to defend himself without an arm. Demon. She has to be a demon. From the feel of the heat from her hands on his arm and the strength that she has to break his arm with little effort and without hitting at the right spot means that she is, definitely, a demon.
He locks his jaw and grits his teeth, swinging his leg toward her to kick her, again, before he rolls away when someone is dragging her off of him and making the whole defense position unnecessary. Great. It's easier not to think about the broken arm when he's engaged in a fight.
Casey gets to his feet with some effort. His arm is hanging in an awkward, unnatural position next to his body.
Sydney stumbles back and rather than dropping the knife, just tucks it away, out of sight. In this city, especially after just being attacked by a demon - or, okay, attacking a demon - she is not going to leave a weapon just lying around. She reaches up to press a hand to the bleeding gash that traces up her chest and over her shoulder. It fucking hurts, but she'll be fine long enough to get back to the Tower. She glances back to the demons, and the angels who intervened, and- COLE?
But no, he moves differently, speaks differently, has different expressions... Still. Cole doppelganger, and the Sydney doppelganger not far off... "What the hell is wrong with this city?" she mutters, and then sweeps her gaze back to Casey. She hasn't actually ever spoken to him, but she recognizes him as one of her father's... employees, and... "Hey. Do you have to go to a hospital, or can you hold up until we get back home?" They should probably clear out before any authorities show up.
Logan, meanwhile, has frozen in Vincent's grip, endeavouring to
( ... )
Vincent spares a glance over his shoulder, and... Oh, hey, it's that girl from the horrible feargas night. He'd make some comment about why she seems to always manage to get stabbed, but that's really not the important thing right now.
"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," he mutters at Logan and starts pushing her towards the door behind the other archangel, still holding her in a position where it's going to hurt if she goes anywhere but where he's steering her. "March."
Missy is just taking this like she plans to kill everything as soon as she gets outside, and if she could move her head right now, she'd be making sure that Logan hasn't been killed by that other fucking archangel.
Logan's furious, just short of hissing and spitting like a cat, and tugging just a little at Vincent's grip on her in an attempt to find a way free without hurting herself... Yeah, that's not going to happen
( ... )
"You could call it that," Vincent shrugs, talking over the sounds of the approaching sirens, and still keeping his firm grip on Logan. He lets his own grayish-black crow wings out, more to give him some added strength lest his demon captive start getting as uppity. "James in the Chicago PD couldn't catch a cold, but he knows how to handle this sort of thing, and he gets bitchy if we go over his head
( ... )
Julia hands off her own demon, brushing her hands off on her pants like the demon might've possibly contaminated her. She watches a moment longer as they cuff the behemoth, and then turns back to the other angel, smirking a little.
"Sorry, yeah. I'm Julia, nice to meet you. Thanks for the backup there, by the way - not exactly used to that." She's more of a solo hunter, not because she can't play well with others, just because things never quite worked out and eventually you give up on that sort of thing.
Vincent watches James as he shoves the two demons into a car and barely notices when Missy gives him a dirty, devious look over the car door just before she's shoved inside. It's the look of a demon who knows something he doesn't and promises to make him hate this night before it's over
( ... )
Julia's smirk grows, just a bit. She doesn't know why he's rambling - maybe he's just the talkative type. Maybe he's got a little crush on her. She shakes her wings off again, glances off once in the direction of the police cars, and pulls her wings in without the slightest wince.
"Ohhh... Sterling. Heard of you. Been in Tokyo a few times, though... not recently, I'll admit. Your reputation precedes you, sir."
She reaches up to rake her fingers through loose blonde hair, shaking it out. Now that she's gotten over the initial shock, the cold of the outside air is nice after the heat of the bar.
He gives a little salute. "Well, don't believe all the rumors you hear, especially if you're hearin' 'em from Mitsuki or anyone who knows her." He's... Mostly kidding. Hey, adrenaline high off a spontaneous hunt, apparently all that energy goes into talking way too much for his own good, although no one would have ever pegged Vince for the strong, silent type.
And, okay, this is bugging the shit out of him. "In all seriousness... We've never met, have we? 'Cause there's something so familiar about you and I can't... Put my finger on it. Do you know Leo?" There's no need for a last name. Clearly there is only one archangel named Leo. Ever.
She shrugs, folds her arms over her chest. "Doubt it. I think I'd remember. And, uh... I may have. A time or two. Never been on a hunt with him." Leo isn't the type that respectable archangels hang out with. Not that Julia ever claimed to be responsible, but... "Could've been a relative you know. I've got a few." Like... all Barnams ever? Yeah, she gets that more than you'd think.
Okay, that cuts out 'any event with Leo' which would, honestly, make a lot of sense for him, considering he can barely remember anything of most of his times with Leo, but doesn't explain her not remembering even a little.
Relatives... Okay, he knows a lot of angels, knows a lot of-
And that's about when his brain decides that whatever it was doing holding back exactly why Julia looks so familiar is a lost cause and just gives up, leaving him with a realization that smacks him right between the eyes.
"Romana," he says, his tone suddenly going very flat. It doesn't sound like a question, but the slight arch of his eyebrows asks for confirmation from her.
Julia blinks a little - that was not an association she expected. Hardly anyone knows that Romana even had daughters, let alone knows her well enough to- He took over the archangels here. Which means he must have been close enough to her mother to... oh.
She smiles wryly, and looks down. "Yeah, well. Julia Angelos. Nice to meet you. Not exactly a good surname to throw around these days." After Romana... Fell. People start looking at you funny, like they expect you to lose it next. And even before that, she didn't usually give her last name freely either, though for... different reasons.
Vincent swallows hard. "Yeah, I guess not. Not gonna judge you for it though. I still have a lot of respect for your mother, even after..." Yeah, after Romana Fell. And wouldn't listen to reason and tossed aside whatever the hell it was they had- whether it was just general and captain or something more- with a .42 caliber love letter straight to the head, as nauseatingly poetic as that sounds. He shrugs, "Well, we're not exactly a product of where we came from."
And if Vincent thought this was probably the most unfortunate thing that could have happened tonight, about four blocks away in the direction that James's police caravan left, something explodes. He jerks his head in that direction and makes a face that conveys, in no uncertain terms, how much he's come to hate this city.
Missy's prowling around, having had a few more drinks. The bar's starting to hop a bit more with people filing in from the parade and she's looking for someone, anyone interesting.
And what's this? A doppelganger? Missy's first reaction is to bristle a little bit from across the bar, because how dare someone with her face show up here. That's like showing up to a party in the same dress, only... Worse. And generally more unlikely.
...And then she remembers- didn't her little boy-toy mistake her for some girl? Cindy or something? ...No. Sydney. That was it. Oh, this could be fun and she's been hurting for some payback ever since that ordeal in the park. There's a chance she could be wrong, but Missy likes taking chances and if she isn't the same girl, then... Well, she has her face. That is a very serious crime. (Yeah, like Sydney can help it ( ... )
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The pain is something that he can get a hold of after a moment of controlled breathing, but fuck. It's hard to defend himself without an arm. Demon. She has to be a demon. From the feel of the heat from her hands on his arm and the strength that she has to break his arm with little effort and without hitting at the right spot means that she is, definitely, a demon.
He locks his jaw and grits his teeth, swinging his leg toward her to kick her, again, before he rolls away when someone is dragging her off of him and making the whole defense position unnecessary. Great. It's easier not to think about the broken arm when he's engaged in a fight.
Casey gets to his feet with some effort. His arm is hanging in an awkward, unnatural position next to his body.
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But no, he moves differently, speaks differently, has different expressions... Still. Cole doppelganger, and the Sydney doppelganger not far off... "What the hell is wrong with this city?" she mutters, and then sweeps her gaze back to Casey. She hasn't actually ever spoken to him, but she recognizes him as one of her father's... employees, and... "Hey. Do you have to go to a hospital, or can you hold up until we get back home?" They should probably clear out before any authorities show up.
Logan, meanwhile, has frozen in Vincent's grip, endeavouring to ( ... )
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"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," he mutters at Logan and starts pushing her towards the door behind the other archangel, still holding her in a position where it's going to hurt if she goes anywhere but where he's steering her. "March."
Missy is just taking this like she plans to kill everything as soon as she gets outside, and if she could move her head right now, she'd be making sure that Logan hasn't been killed by that other fucking archangel.
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"Sorry, yeah. I'm Julia, nice to meet you. Thanks for the backup there, by the way - not exactly used to that." She's more of a solo hunter, not because she can't play well with others, just because things never quite worked out and eventually you give up on that sort of thing.
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"Ohhh... Sterling. Heard of you. Been in Tokyo a few times, though... not recently, I'll admit. Your reputation precedes you, sir."
She reaches up to rake her fingers through loose blonde hair, shaking it out. Now that she's gotten over the initial shock, the cold of the outside air is nice after the heat of the bar.
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And, okay, this is bugging the shit out of him. "In all seriousness... We've never met, have we? 'Cause there's something so familiar about you and I can't... Put my finger on it. Do you know Leo?" There's no need for a last name. Clearly there is only one archangel named Leo. Ever.
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Relatives... Okay, he knows a lot of angels, knows a lot of-
And that's about when his brain decides that whatever it was doing holding back exactly why Julia looks so familiar is a lost cause and just gives up, leaving him with a realization that smacks him right between the eyes.
"Romana," he says, his tone suddenly going very flat. It doesn't sound like a question, but the slight arch of his eyebrows asks for confirmation from her.
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She smiles wryly, and looks down. "Yeah, well. Julia Angelos. Nice to meet you. Not exactly a good surname to throw around these days." After Romana... Fell. People start looking at you funny, like they expect you to lose it next. And even before that, she didn't usually give her last name freely either, though for... different reasons.
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And if Vincent thought this was probably the most unfortunate thing that could have happened tonight, about four blocks away in the direction that James's police caravan left, something explodes. He jerks his head in that direction and makes a face that conveys, in no uncertain terms, how much he's come to hate this city.
"Son of a bitch."
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