New Orleans and Tokyo
Adia, Samael, Shekhina, Enlil
In a small, cluttered room in a New Orleans apartment, our story begins. There are books everywhere, and a pile of dirty clothes in the corner. In the center of the room are two single mattresses piled one on top of the other, a few tangled sheets covering them. A figure is lying on top of the sheets, writhing in pain. She is tall, a round girl with long legs and a large, heart shaped face. Her eyes are closed, and her face is contorted in pain.
In her mind plays a violent, pain wrought scene. The images switch between the picture of an armor clad woman, with long beautiful wings of ivory and a cruel smirk, stood below the suspended form of a bloody, wire ensnared form.. seemingly of a man. On the ground at the woman's feet lay six ebony heaps, and upon closer inspection it can be determined that they are wings, much like the one's on the woman's back.
The gory picture flashes to the image of a new room, one with rich crimson colored tapestries hanging down from every conceivable angle. Beyond them lay nothing more than a dark abyss. A figure appears, a man... or possibly a woman. The figure begins to speak, his words echoing throughout every inch of the cavern like dwelling. Engel, Angelo, Ange...
Images of the same armor clad woman flash in time with the words. Again the figure speaks. Enkeli, Kedvenc, Anjo... A smile appears on the figure's face before the layers of fabric binding this unknown specter disperse, reveling a mirror. Within the bounds of it's golden frame lies the same woman, her hand reaching out, beckoning the girl enter. The woman's thin lips mouth some unknown phrase, and the former voice echoes it. Destare, Metatron...
"Stop...Stop...STOP!!!" Her voice goes from a whisper to a scream and she sits straight up. Her eyes are dark blue, the color of the ocean at midnight. Right now, they are huge, contorting her face with a childish look of terror. She takes a deep breath and closes them.
"I am Adia... I am not Metatron." She opens them again. "Who the fuck is Metatron, anyway?"
A soft snicker drops into the night air as an effeminate man remains perched atop the guard rail of a small balcony in the cramped city of Tokyo. In his arms is clutched a small stuffed teddy bear, his lips pressed against the soft material of the creature's head. "Awake, my dear, for one day soon the bell will ring and the blood will run." He slid off the rail and walked inside, for tomorrow was fast approaching.
Deeper in the heart of this thriving metropolis sat two women in a ramen stand; the elder had white blonde hair, which hung about her shoulders, and was thoroughly enjoying her bowl of the noodle concoction, and the other, a young girl, had long curls of raven black, off set by a pair of ice blue eyes. This child had an odd little smile on her face, as the next few words spilled from her mouth. "Wenn man vom Teufel spricht, dann ist er nicht weit."
The elder halted her next mouthful of food, and smirked at the comment. "So shall you rouse him or shall I, Enlil?"
The child, addressed as Enlil, got to her feet, throwing her half of the tab casually onto the table. "You just enjoy your noodles, 'Nee-san. The stray dog is mine." And the girl walked away, disappearing from view.
The two strings of italic words are all words meaning 'angel'. The phrase
'Destare, Metatron' is Italian for 'Awake, Metatron'. And 'Wenn man vom Teufel
spricht, dann ist er nicht weit.' is a German idiom translated as 'Speak of
the devil and he is bound to appear', so it is in reference to Lucifer.
Perched in the rafters of a tiny New Orleans Theatre, Chris Seelie looked up, and blinked as a shiver danced up his spine. Further down along the same beam, another boy looked up at him with concern.
With a shake of his head, Chris turned to look at the other boy after a moment. "Yeah?"
"You went quiet. You okay?"
"Huh?" He brushed an impudent lock of indigo hair out of his eyes. "Yeah, fine. I just got this feeling like someone was talking about me, y'know?"
The older boy chuckled and nodded. "Oh yeah. Why, once, I got this feeling that..." His voice trailed off, more or less unnoticed by Chris, whose mind was still stuck on the feeling. This feeling was... Something strange, yet not unfamiliar. He had felt this before, it was almost deja vu. But... Who?
Follow a character? Metatron, Samael-Omega, Shekhina, Enlil, Lucifer