A New Light (Remake)

[Midnight_ Guardian_Angel]

Darkness and sin have taken over the Earth; it appears that there is no longer any light to balance out the darkness in the world. Governments have been toppled and been replaced with anarchy. This is a world where the strong prey on the weak, where compassion is a long forgotten memory, where humanity has forgotten the good that lives within them. There is no hope left for…
What’s this? There appears to be pockets of light forming, maybe here is hope for humanity yet, maybe just maybe….but if we the guardians of this planet, can see it surely the overseers of this darkness, those deplorable sins, can as well. The beings carrying this light will surely be killed, snuffed out so their light can’t take root and spread. This cannot be allowed; we cannot let the earth remain in darkness, especially when this hope exists! We will send out amulets that will protect these bearers of light from those seven, unfortunately it will not protect them from corruption, hopefully the light they poses will help them stave that off, if not the world may never see the light again, and humanity will be doomed, in more way than one. Now where to send the amulets? Las Vegas…oh the irony, it seems the city of sin is going to play host to earths new light.

My dear sins I’m sure your all wondering why I’ve pulled you away from your fun time, I’ll get strait to the point light has appeared in our beautifully corrupted world again. We must snuff it out immediately, before it has chance to take root, before it can ruin what we’ve put together. Lust, Wrath, Greed, Envy, Sloth, Gluttony, Pride,and Treachery I leave this up to you, take care of this by any means necessary. Kill the bearers, make them fall into temptation just do not let them exist. It should be easy enough to get rid of, it exists in Las Vegas, our corruption holds strong there, now go!

[Midnight_ Guardian_Angel]

Rules

1.Follow gaia TOS
2. Do not join then never post, or disappear. I understand real life, so just tell me if your unable to post for awhile. I promise I don't bite. ^^
3. No cybering, though romance is allowed.
4. No one liners, I expect at least a paragraph
5. I'm no grammar Nazi, but I expect to understand what your saying, no text talk, or over the top cursing.
6. No God-modding, but no dodging everything either
7. Do not post until I accept you, when I do feel free to
8. To assure me that you actually read this put cheese_whine
9.Please use real pictures.
10. feel free to talk to me or any of your fellow rper's if you have a problem or you wish to plot.
Sin City (aka the ooc)

Profile layouts

SIN
Picture:
Name:
Current Occupation: (What is your sin doing while hunting our eight heroes/heroines?)

Virtue
Picture:
Name:
Age:
Pendant: (picture or description)
Current Occupation: (What does you human work as?)

To lessen confusion we have
2 sins
2 virtue
slots available.

Note: paint splotch marks day, little heart marks time, fire scrollwork marks season

Area 69 pics

Main Bar
Main Floor
Luxury room
Side Bar

Private Room are set up like the Luxury room, just smaller and with comfortable accommodations.

[Midnight_ Guardian_Angel]

Lust

Name: Rayne Zavier
Current Occupation: Owner of a Club

Pride

Name: Vivian Rose
Occupation: Model

Wrath

Sloth

Name: Zachariah Wolford
Current Occupation: Lead vocalist of 'Lazy Bones'

Greed

Name: Perla "Pearl" De la Fortuna
Current Occupation: Fortune Hunter

Envy

Name: Desiree Zelle
Current Occupation: Actress

Gluttony

Treachery
Reserved

Kindness

Chastity

Charity

Name: Hale, A.
Age: 36
Pendant: Apache Tear.
Current Occupation: Retired Marine, Grave Digger.

Temperance

Picture: [x]
Name: Blanc Jokulsson
Age: 19
Pendant: amethyst pendant of temperance
Current Occupation: Works at his parents garden shop

Patience

Name: Raphael Aquene
Age: 24
Pendant: Obsidian Pendant of Patience
Current Occupation: Lawyer

Diligence

Virtue of Diligence
Name: Skylar Kiriyama
Age: 27
Pendant: A crystal wand pendant for heart and grounding/stability and protection
Current Occupation: Office Worker (Due diligence department)

Humility

Name: Carina de Sainte
Age: Nine-teen
Pendant: Symbol of Strength & Humility
Current Occupation: Part-time Student ; Waitress

Loyalty

Name: Isis Hanson
Age: 21
Pendant: Loyalties pendant
Current Occupation: Undercover Officer

Dante Alighieri
Side: virtues

Beelzebub
Side:you really need to ask you little insect? fine the sins.

[Midnight_ Guardian_Angel]

Isis Hanson
Virtue of loyalty

On stage a young girl danced, to thumping pounding music she was one of three on stage auditioning for a part in a strip bar. Why concentrate on this one girl you say, well this girl had an ulterior motive for coming here, two actually. One was to bust a prostitution ring, girls had been disappearing from this club for some time now and her boss had finally gotten to ordering someone to investigate, naturally she volunteered. The other reason she decided to come here was this was rumored to be one of the establishments owned by the enemy, by the sins. Any information they could get on them would be an advantage in the virtues favor, and they needed some things in their favor at the moment as it seemed things were stacked against them nowadays.

Once the audition was over the girl, Isis sat down at one of the make-up tables and opened her bag looking down at the pendant within. She didn’t like leaving it alone in her bag like that, but it would be too risky to wear if this were in fact one of the sins establishments. While it might protect her to some extent, it also most probably put her at risk, made it easier for them to sense her, however it made her feel a tad more secure if it was close by. She closed the bag quickly when the manager came in and turned to look expectantly at him like the other girls. Hiding her disgust expertly when he dragged his eyes over each of them, and pointed her and one of the other girls as hired, dismissing the other one with a wave of the hand.

Once the one he dismissed was gone, he led both her and the other girl to his office and presented them with contracts to sign using both their real and stage names. She read over hers carefully. Nothing about loyalty to the company, mostly just financial things. Her eyes narrowed at one line though, ‘a customer may buy a private dance if they so wish.’ She hesitated at that. She didn’t know if she liked the sound of that, but she had to sign it if she wanted in. She took in a deep breath and thought up a quick pseudo name to sign so no one could look her up, ‘Angel Ferris’ she then decided to use her real name for her stage name, thinking very few would suspect it, or she hoped anyway. She would start tomorrow night apparently, great.

Once she was a few feet away from the bar/strip club she flipped open a phone, “I’m in.” she said listening to the response on the other line, “Will do.” She answered, hanging up swiftly. She continued a swift walk all the way back to her apartment, not wanting to linger on the streets any longer. You couldn’t tell who was what anymore. She unlocked her door and bolted it a few minutes afterward. She let out a heavy breath then going over to collapse on her couch her bag slumped next to her. She covered her eyes for a moment, taking deep calming breaths. She looked over at the bag and opened it taking out the pendant that had started all this before, even now she still questioned “Why me?”

[Heartlesscereallover]

Aiden Blackthorn

The sin of Treachery

Walking through the isle ways of the massive green house Aiden looked over the new plants as they grew. So many different plants and so little time to mess with humans now a days. Was his thought as his fingers lightly touched some of the blossoming buds giving them a little something for later on. So many people loved his shop cause of all of the beautiful flowers not knowing that he was more than they saw. The man was the sin of treachery, but looked almost like an angel how perfect was that for him. Women who came to his shop where suddenly filled with the idea of betraying those that they loved when they left with his flowers. It was way to easy to get into these humans minds, and messing with them. It almost didn't seem like a challenge for him anymore. The roses where blooming perfectly for him to put out on sale when he opened the shop later on.

The sound of knocking alerted him that someone was at the front of the shop. The sound was rather hectic as he heard someone out side say that the place couldn't be closed. Walking out from the back toward the front of the shop. Yep he wasn't mistaken as he saw an outline of a body through the cover on the door. The person outside must of been a male cause the sound of there voice wasn't a womans in anyway. The knocking didn't stop as the man started to ask if anyone was in there or not. A tick started to work in the sins eyebrow as he walked over to lift the covering. The man backed away when he finally saw someone inside of the shop before trying the handle. The man started to talk asking why the door was locked, and that he needed to get flowers for his wife. That it had been there anniversary, and if he didn't get flowers for his wife she'd kill him for being out all night.

The corner of his mouth turned up slightly as he moved to walk away from the door. Leaving the man to hit the door demanding to know what was going on, and why he wasn't allowed in. A few seconds later Adien opened the door by jerking it open before shoving a thing of flowers to the man. A nasty surprise would await the man when he gave them to his wife. The ideas of many betrayals would flood the womans mind driving her to mistrust her husband. Then she herself would betray him with someone else forcing him to lose his mind. The man had looked confused when Aiden had handed him the flowers before taking them with thanks. The crook of a smile fully turned when the man turned and walked off with his bomb in hand. Closing the door he walked to see how he had fared in sales today. With all the thoughts of betrayal in the air tonight his sales would boom in the morning when people would buy even more flowers to try to make it up to there other halves.

Oh yes those foolish humans had no idea just what this man really was, and how messed up he was on the inside. Deciding that he had enough for the day he headed toward the back but turned right before the green house. A set of stairs headed down toward a basement which was where the man slept. Once down there he removed his shirt throwing it into a basket to be washed later. Lines of what looked like barbed wire which where thorns ran along the mans back, and along his arms. At odd places where flowers blooming along the wickedly sharp looking thorns giving him a beautiful warning to anyone who sees them. That they could look but that they where to never touch him. Walking over to his bed he laid down on top of the covers thinking on how he would find one of the virtues and take his time making them betray the light before snuffing out there light.

[03I8]

Quote:

Cray length. Sorry in advance!

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Carina de Sainte
thinking ➺ [ I don't know what I know ] ♡ wearing ➺ [ casual day ] ♡ with ➺ [ psych ] ♡ at ➺ [ psych office ] ♡ mood ➺ [ nervous, fidgety ]

Flashing lights, the scent of ammonia, leather texture, and the poignant linger of new-car smell that gave her the most intense migraine. A variety of things assaulted Carina's senses with a savage sort of simplicity, the hyper-effective combination of which awoke her from a most distorted siesta. An unknown vehicle, a man named Dante, and a rush of fear. She was in the wrong part of town, not where she remembered being. The fragrance of tea and coffee greeted her olfactory senses, the jolt of pain and sting of glass faded from her somato-senses as paresthesia set in to her left hand. A spare few drops of red stained the sun-worn pavement burgundy. The nerve impulses of seeing the colored fluid escape her reach fascinated her temporarily. She was in shock.

"Now Mum won't have to worry about her daughter being left-handed."

The thought came without process and feeling, a distant ringing drowning out any sound nearby. The more her footsteps echoed, the more her brain wanted to shut-down, the more the noise was deadened, the more her pace quickened.

Rapid.

One, two, one, two.

She had to get away.

One-two, one-two, one-two.

None of it was real.

Onetwoonetwoonetwo--

"Well, miss De Sainte?"

Startled by the question, Carina's head bobbed up, spine straightening on reflex. Yeah, it's been at least a few months since that time. Why the spirits of the past were so dead-set, no pun intended, on haunting her, she couldn't explain; with all the holy and hellish revelations of recent, the nineteen-year-old was almost certain that she was better off that way. Knowledge was a privilege that gave one power over others, so, sometimes, it really did feel good to be in the dark.

"Ah. I apologize, sir. I must have, uhm," The girl paused, searching her mind for a solution to the world's problems. Unfortunately, as always, nothing surfaced but bad memories. "... I must have spaced out. That's my fault, I apologize." A loose lock of blonde hair fell upon her cheek as she dipped her head, fiddling with the edge of her cardigan. Her line of sight met the coral-red tone of her shoes below, zeroing in on the crocheted fabric that covered her toes. It was believed in a few Eastern cultures that wearing red footwear brought the wearer good luck. Of course, she could neither say that superstition had aided her nor, for certain, that she ever had much luck to begin with. To be honest, she wasn't entirely sure what the significance of luck was. She hadn't been raped or maimed or murdered. Did that make one lucky? What was to discern one man from another in terms of luck? Outlook on life? Religion, race? If one found themselves able to fill their lungs in the morning, that should be luck enough, but it wasn't.

"Is it...?" Carina interrogated the choirs in her head. Staring down at her cloth-hidden feet, the girl almost lost herself in the rich, colorful fabric. It was so radiant and pretty. Not overly vibrant, not enough to draw too much attention, but simple. Pretty. "It must be nice to have no worries," she would have thought, had she allowed herself to think such selfish things. Self-indulgence could be detrimental to her health and everybody knew curiosity was a constant scare in the effervescent go-of-things in a place like Vegas. Well, almost everybody. Then again, there were many things that she didn't understand. To be purely truthful, she couldn't say for certain that she understood anything. Not really. The thing was, the moment that any being begins to relax into the idea of knowing something for fact--the second he or she becomes comfortable with that principle of life itself, it becomes nothing more than a disillusioned abstraction. Then, the person that placed such stock in this belief--finds such credence in the tenets of this blasphemous theory--is transformed into nothing more than a dawdling baby, manipulated by some greater power.

"...coping mechanism. Do you disagree?" The psychiatrist across from her tapped his pen absentmindedly against the clip-board in his lap. He observed Carina with the objective air of someone that doesn't care from an emotional standpoint, but a medical one. Tap. Tap. Tap. Carina focused on the pen acutely aware of it. She pinched the bit of skin between her thumb and pointer-finger, the minuscule serpents of torment twinging and twitching within the nerves of her hand. The minor pangs of the lasting pinch helped steady her, bringing other branches of thought to an inevitable end. A few months ago, the thoughts that circle in her head might have brought tears to her eyes. She'd have broken her own heart with her new-found faith crisis. Now all that she felt was a desolate abyss and endless confusion, not that it was a salient issue in regards to the big picture. She was merely a lowly pawn in a great game of awesome magnitude. And, no, before anyone can ask. Not 'awesome' as in cool, awesome as in the-wrath-of-God-abideth-on-him sort of way. In the council of the holy ones God is greatly feared; he is more awesome than all who surround him. Wiser words have never rang true, and suddenly, Carina wasn't sure if there was any "good" side to be on. "It's not my place to judge," She thought, conflicted by this conviction.

"What... What was that?" Carina glanced up at the alleged professional, feeling anxiety take hold deep in her chest. The psych's expression hardly changed. A twitch of the jaw, gaze enduring. He blinked approximately once every three to four seconds, a sign of mild fixation. Body posture was relaxed yet attentive. Observational.

"Objects." The psych leaned forward in his chair, leaning an elbow on his desk with the pen in hand. "It's a common coping mechanism in young adults and teens, especially. When a subject is placed under stress, their focus is transferred to an object or action of some kind. Helps them cope." The man remained still a moment before leaning back into his chair, crossing one leg over his opposite knee and writing something on his papers. "I do believe that will be the end of our session today, miss De Sainte. Let the pharmacist know if you continue experiencing hallucinations, alright?" Tearing a slip of prescription paper from a medical pad, the doctor flashed a small smile.

"Uhm, yes. Thank you, doctor." Carina retrieved the newest prescription of her growing collection, dipping her head respectfully at the elder. She ducked out of the business suite and exited the building after having scheduled with the secretary her next visit. Walking out onto the Vegas street, the girl replaced her sunglasses and hat to the places they belonged. "Blessings in disguise, blessings in disguise...," she thought as she walked along the sidewalk to the local pharmacy. The day was sure to be a very long one.


Virtue of Humility

[Seraphiel The Forgiving]

Do not be afraid; our fate
Cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.

Dante Alighieri
The morning air felt cool upon his skin, accompanied by the few streaks of sunlight that fought their way into the previously dark alleyway, it almost felt surreal. Almost, but not quite. His hand reaching up, he felt the cold leather of his glove stroke the scruff adorning his jaw. Casting his eyes about, abhorrence plagued his mind - this place was disgusting. But then... So was the entirety of the city which held it. He hated it. No, not hated. Never hated. Hatred is blinding. Hatred is reckless. Hatred leads to mistakes. Dante did not make mistakes. No, he did not hate Sin City, he merely disapproved of it. Almost as much as he disapproved of the planned meeting spot of one of his many contacts. A contact who, as of last night, was most likely dead.

He looked to the alleyway ground, staring at a puddle of water. It had rained last night. Vegas was too far from the mountains to receive any snow, even if it were the dead middle of January. The average temperature this month was around thirty-six degrees Fahrenheit - too warm for water to freeze. Bringing up his arm, he tugged both the sleeve of his peacoat and suit jacket back, allowing him to check his watch. He was ten minutes late, a slight which the contact had never done before. Yep, he was most certainly dead.

As if to confirm his deduction, three men rounded the corner. Wait, men? Hardly. More like three well dressed, skin-headed, gorillas. The smallest of the bunch easily reached a height of six foot, one inch - two inches taller than Dante, and was well over two hundred pounds of muscle. And his two colleagues were bigger. The look on their faces? Malicious. They were here to kill him. How did he know? Well, why else would three large men dressed like a casino security crew waltz through a place like this with concealed weapons under their arms, within their jackets. How did he know they had firearms? Couldn't tell ya. He just... Knew.

Morning there, gentlemen, he called to the thugs, what brings you out here on such a fine day as this one? Instead of giving him an answer, they continued to close the gap between them at a leisurely pace. One was snickering. Overconfidence - a hefty mistake when misplaced. This was Dante's in. Now they were forty yards away. Thirty. Twenty. Ten. The one in front began to slip a hand through the breach of his suit jacket.

Close the gap, take their advantage of both reach and range from them. From reflex built over countless generations, his body moved like clockwork. As the forward man drew his pistol, Dante was already within a foot of the man. First, target the weapon. He grabbed the man's extended wrist with his right hand, pulling him forward with a strength born from somebody well versed in close-quarters-combat. As this happened, Dante slipped outside of the man's motion, still holding his wrist, while his freehand raced towards the elbow of his weapon hand, delivering a powerful palm-strike. Crack. Second step, avoid attack from the back up. Third: incapacitate first target. Time to kill two birds with one stone.

Using the horrified confusion he'd cast upon the first man to his advantage, Dante yanked him up just as the man's two friends were pulling their weapons out. It seemed as if they expected their buddy to kill Dante without any trouble, the look of surprise was plastered on their face as they took aim. By the time they fired, however, their friend stood obstacle between the bullets and Dante. One man dying, two to go. Still holding the dying goon as a shield, Dante's left hand went into the right side of the man's jacket, pulling his second gun from it's confines. Once again, like a well oiled machine, his muscle memory did the work. Two bullets were fired - each hitting their targets. Two men dead - a hole between their eyes. The third just barely holding on - Snap. Scratch that, the third now dead from a broken neck. Crouching down, he checked the wallets of the ill-fated goons. Definitely Pride's men. That's when he heard it - the footsteps of a fourth man. His head jerked up just in time to see that fourth round the corner. s**t, where was the gun?! No time.

As the fourth man spotted Dante midst his fallen comrades, his hand went directly for the gun he, too, carried. But Dante was already one step ahead, holding a blade in his hand that had initially been hidden up his sleeve, he sent it spinning through the air. Hitting it's target, the fourth crumpled to the ground, the knife now lodged in his skull. Dammit, he'd gotten dirt on his new slacks.

Walking over to the fourth victim, he yanked his knife from where it had embedded itself, wiping the gore from it off with the victim's own jacket. Irony? Not so much. More so a cruel joke, if anything. Standing back up, Dante began to make his way out of the grizzly alley. Four men dead - three through the use of one of their own firearms, one by a missing blade. No fingerprints, he'd been wearing gloves. No witnesses. No trace. No mistakes. Before he buttoned his peacoat back up, he sent a message to the innate 'leader' of the Virtues;

Contact: Madamoiselle Sainte
Msg: Next time, you get to meet the contact in a shady alley. Also, contact compromised, most likely by Pride.

And a second to another from the secret force, this one intended to be more of a precaution;

Contact: Ms. Hanson
Msg: Contact compromised, didn't show up as scheduled. Ten minutes later, four of Pride's goons came in his place. Result: four bodies in an alley. Did my best to avoid leaving any evidence, but caution trumps relaxation, yes? If at all possible, I'd appreciate if you could keep an ear open in case this shows up on paper. I'd rather we not have to deal with actual authorities. Oh, and good morning.


Where: A back alley of Vegas.
With: Myself, unless you wish to count these goons.
Clothed: This suit makes me look dashing, am I right?

Midnight_ Guardian_Angel

03I8

{{Just a sort of intro post, guys. I was bored, so I decided to make my 'badass' intro. Feel free to interact with Dante by sending any sort of text his way <3

I assume that, while humility is having a bit of an, erm, identity crisis, she'd still be in touch and working with the rest of us. Just a bit distant in social terms.}}

[Karityr]

Вы можете, вы хотите, и никогда не простят
xxxxвы осуждаете его ж.и.з.н.и.
xxВы дрейфовать в безумиеот
xxxxxxчрезмерным гневом xxрxаxзxрxуxшxеxнxиxя xxи местиx
x
xxxYOUWEREBORNTOHATE

All these ******** morons everywhere, why did they have to just look at him like that, like they were so above him while screaming at him their stupid ideas. Stupid accusations. Stupid existences. Blurred images of his hands in her hair, gripping the brunette tightly by her hair, dragging her around, feeling her struggle, fight; her fingers pulling at his hand, his arm, trying to get away. Seeing her fuzzy image as he threw her towards some wall, following that with a quick kick, clipping her shoulder, hitting her with enough force to take her hunched over form and throw her off balance, the blur of her body crumbling to the ground before he reached down and grabbed her by the hair again, picking her back up to her feet then shoving her to the wall again. His hand found her neck, lifting her up, his icey blue eyes meeting her own blue eyes. And yes through all of this, she could still give him that stare. She could still look down at him like he was so beneath her, that he was so pathetic, and disgusting. That she was so much better than him. If he could just wipe that stupid look off her face, that look in her eyes, anything to make it STOP. The feel of her body writhing in his grasp, her fighting, clawing at his arm, yelling at him, screeching, rasping. Fingernails digging at his skin, scratching. The struggling. His grip tightened on her neck, moving his hand to slide her face along the rock, listening her breath gurgling and the strangulated sounds of her pain escaping her as he ground away her face slow--

What was up with that ringing? He rolled over in bed, his head pounding as his mind continued to black in and out in time with the awful ringing, buzzing sound, what the hell is that, images flashing in his hung over mind of what he could remember of the night before, mostly just the moments of rage and having his hands yet again wrapped around someone's neck. What'd she do this time... he couldn't remember, his memory was too fuzzy, having drunk himself to the point of blacking out last night and now as he was dreaming, some of it was starting to catch back up to him.

That buzzing though, it just wasn't freaking stoppin--!! His fist slammed down on the alarm clock, the buzzing abruptly turning into fizzling as the alarm clock's smashed bits let off just the last bits of electricity, the Russian rolling back over in bed and buried his head under a pillow, groaning loudly. It was his phone that started ringing next, Diederich groping across his desk now til he grabbed it and answered in the most gruff, angry, impatient manner he could possible. "What." A split moment after he said that, he let out a slow groan, scrunching his eyebrows as he realized the possibility of what if that was his mother calling.

"Diederich Adrikovich Alexandrov!" His mother's English accent cut through his hang over like a knife, no way to defend himself from his own mother's fury. "Is that any way to speak to your mother?"

"нет." he mumbled back into the phone, sitting up in bed now and chucking his pillow across the room.

"Fired again?"

"да." He stood from the bed as he listened to his mother sigh, leaning away from the phone to say something so he guessed was his father, because why would his father not be with his mother at ... he didn't even wanna think at what time of night. "I'm... nn...sorry...I tried..." he heard his mother sigh again, walking over now to the tiny kitchen in his apartment, the place somehow managing to actually be miraculously clean, opening the fridge and pulling out a jug of milk.

"Diederich, you need to start holding down a job. All of your siblings are holding down jobs just fine. And keeping their grades up while they're working very hard, so I don't see why you can't hold down one job. We can't keep providing for you. Your father and I will cut you off if this doesn't stop." He didn't wanna hear about how well his half siblings were doing, especially Alexei. ******** Alexei, the little smart a** prodigy from hell. The only one he'd be okay with just randomly hearing about is Sveta. He snorted, grabbing a box of cereal now.

"мама, it's not that I'm doing bad at my jobs, it's more that no one at any place I work is incapable of not being a stupid s**t. Besides, Dmitri's following in Dad's footsteps and Alexei's in the mafia." There was silence on the other end.

"Alexei's what?"

"Nothin'." It took a few moments before he could hear his mother yell his youngest brother's name and the line going dead. "Whoops." he muttered sarcastically, grabbing a bowl now and pouring himself a bowl of cereal. Only for the box to be empty.

Nooo.... no... no... no. Just no. Absolutely not, this was not allowed, he Wanted to EAT His BREAKFAST. Throwing on a shirt, he grabbed his wallet and stormed out of his apartment, charging his way out of the complex now, starting to look down in the direction of the grocery store, glance the other way before just resuming his stomping, angry way to the store.

After he had purchased cereal, gone home, and consumed the overly ridiculous sugary breakfast substance, the next thing to do?

Let's go get drunk again. And so off the Russian went, headed off towards Lust's club because it at least had a bar in it... Maybe going to Lust's club would be a bad idea.... ugh who cared.... just get drunk.


[//ooc: god my post sucks ; A; ]


x
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Run, if you think it will SAVE you!
xxxxx《Diederich Adrikovich Alexandrov》
The Calm and Drinking Sin of Wrath
Șεεκ ɑɴɗ [ʏσυ'ʟʟ ғυϲκɩɴɢ ғɩɴɗ] ↠ lets just stick with he sat his a** down in the bar and is now drinking away.

[Midnight_ Guardian_Angel]

Seraphiel The Forgiving

Isis Hanson
Virtue of loyalty

Isis’s whole body jumped about three feet off the couch when she heard a buzzing noise. She let out a soft ‘oomph’ when she reconnected…unfortunately it was with the floor. She stared at the ceiling for a moment before sitting up running a hand over her face tiredly, ignore it? Answer it? Oh what to do, truly there was only one option and she knew it, though she was sorely tempted to ignore it, and sink back in to the peacefully void of sleep. She sighed in defeat after a moment and reached over into her bag, and glancing at the screen. ‘a*****e.’ She smirked at her own personal nickname for Dante. She didn’t even dislike him but if anybody went through her phone she wasn’t sure if she wanted them to know who precisely she was talking to. She opened the message blearily and read it over.

She sighed heavily rubbing her temples, her mind already of thinking of ways to cover this up in case it got out, and how to keep authorities from getting too involved. She closed her eyes thinking for a moment, thinking of a couple of people who owed her. She really detested calling in things like this, but at times it was necessary. She texted a couple of people then decided to message Dante back.

Msg: Morning, sounds like gang violence to me. Minimal to no attention.

She erased the message he had sent to her before snapping the phone shut, and yawning lazily. Well she was up for now so she figured she had better get moving. She got up off the floor and stretched walking over to her kitchen and digging out a box of cereal from one of the cabinets, noting she would have to shop soon. For today though she wanted to relax before her “new job.”
((such a bleg post >> ))

[SparksWinterWonderland]

Perla "Pearl" De La Fortuna
▛Greedl▟


And when I decide to K I L L you
I'll do it with MY hands


❥ A man slightly disorientated and looking slightly emaciated exited the nearly dead club. Unknown to him was the fact that his expensive black diamond watch had mysteriously disappeared from his wrist along with a majority of his bank account. This was of course the work of Lady Luck herself the demonic personification of Greed also known to the lowly mortals as Pearl De La Fortuna. Or Pearly if you were familiar to her.

Pearly straightened her dress and ran her hands threw her messy dark brown hair her make up immaculate, thank you water proof mascara, around her shoulders was the mans jacket which she flung into the lost and found closet. She had gotten what she wanted from him. “Tch. Pinches gringos, think they can grab me like I’m one of Rayne’s girls.” she cursed under her breath walking on her heels like they were stilts trying to catch her balance as she checked her bank account on her phone. With one swipe she saw her account grow in commas and zeros the happier she was. She could almost forgive the leachers for what they had given her.

Frustrated with her shoes Greed removed them opting to walk on the sticky club floor navigating as best she could around the mysterious stains and liquids that had been spilled on the floor the night before. A night club the morning after was disgusting and no one could say any different. Even if it was morning there were still some stragglers in the private back rooms dancing like ghosts or unconscious on the furniture.

She managed to emerge from the dubious back rooms into the main floor where the stains where more discernible now that the house lights were up. She danced around the floor avoiding anything that might even look like vomit or urine until she reached the safety of the bar stools. She sat on the tall stool next to her fellow sin “Starting early are we?” she put her shoes on the counter “you know what they say don't you Die? Cuando entra beber se sale el saber.” she teased climbing over the bar to grab a soda.

My W O R D may seem mighty hollow
But don't doubt that I C A N


Location: Lust's Club; Bar
With: Die
Song
Wearing
OOC:

[Moonbeam Vixen]

Sin of Lust

Light shinned through a red tinted window, bathing the room in an eerie bloody glow. Across from the window sat a king sized bed, the blanket on it started to stir and move. The cover moved up as it's resident sat up, falling down to reveal deep, red hair. It was wavy, long, and framed the face of woman that it belonged to. It was slightly messy, but wasn't a disaster. Her eyes opened to show jade green colored orbs. It was rare for her to rest, but never the less it was nice to get some.

Taking a long stretch, she let the cover fall the rest of the way off her body to reveal a pink lace bra. Her feet swung to the floor and she stood. From there, the morning had started. Rayne got dressed and moved out of her bedroom to her kitchen. Opening her fridge, she grabbed a can of ice coffee. Who needed more than that? "Why do I feel like this isn't going to be a good day?" She mumbled to herself as she moved to her bathroom. There she fixed her hair, makeup, and outfit to her liking. Brushing the waves out of her hair, she threw her brush back down and made her way out.

The sound of her coffee can popping open could be heard in the quiet of the club. Her door had been shut and locked without a single note to her arrival, only her coffee giving them warning. Her boots came to a halt just after a few steps, her coffee at her lips and frozen as she took in what she saw.

"Son of a b***h! What is this?" She said as she lowered her drink. Rayne wasn't known for being subtle. Anger splashed across her features, making her temper match her livid red hair. Her gaze had turned to see Wrath having come in early this morning. Greed was there too, though she looked like she had just been given her first ever gift on Christmas. Must of gotten another sucker to give it all up...

"Where the ******** is the cleaning crew? This s**t better get cleaned up or I'm going to gut every last one of them!" Rayne clenched her free hand, her anger flowing freely now. Her statement was both a threat...and a promise. These kind of things didn't go well with her, no matter the circumstance.

There was no on in the room currently that she was worried about hearing her anger. In fact, there wouldn't be until that night. During the day is when the place was it's most exclusive, because it was partially closed. Only people allowed in now where those that Lust wanted in, or at least didn't mind being there. The other sins were allowed in, as long as they didn't mess anything up. Gluttony's allowance in depended on Rayne's stock. Though her stock of drinks never really got to low, she always tried keeping that sin out when she was low. Specially at night when business was in full swing.

Walking over to her fellow sins, she walked behind the bar and stood across from Wrath. Her coffee was half drained and quickly set down on the other side. "It's early." She said as she grabbed a shot glass and set it down in front of him. Grabbing a bottle from under the counter, where she kept her best stuff, she poured the deep amber liquid into it until it was full. She set the bottle down hard as she leaned onto the counter, giving him a straight look. "What did you do." She made it a statement, not a question, thus showing that she wanted the answer and wasn't asking permission to have it. As she waited for her answer, she snapped her fingers at a woman who had walked in, dressed ready to work. "Call your damn crew, or watch them all hang. Your choice." She told the woman, who jumped at the anger in Rayne's voice and gave a hasty nod. She took off to the back, quickly opening her phone as she did so.

Location: Area 69 X Company: Diederich & Pearl X Feeling: Pissed
OOC: n/a

Karityr

SparksWinterWonderland

[Heartlesscereallover]

Aiden Blackthorn

The sin of Treachery

The sound of a alarm made the mans head turn to a small bedside table. Reaching over he picked up a small phone which had been the source of the alarm. He had worked through the night without sleeping once again. Thing is he might still of been in the green house now h that man not bothered him. Turning off the alarm Adien sat up before throwing his legs off the bed. His bare feet touched the floor before his hands moved up to run through his short brown hair. Maybe today he would leave the shop closed, and go have some fun. Normally the man wouldn't dare leave it closed for all the people would come to buy his sin. A smile was on his lips as he finally decided what he was gonna do.

Getting up he walked over to a dresser to remove a fresh change of clothes. Walking into his bathroom Aiden jumped in the shower. It wasn't that he needed one cause he didn't smell it was that the water felt nice on his body. After a quick scrub and rise he was dressed and out the door to go after some breakfast. In one pocket was a large amount of money for a certain woman that had sent him some business. They had made a deal that if she sent him people he'd cut her in on the money he made. Thanks to what he was he had a lot of business to cover some of the things he liked to do. Walking into a little dinner for there breakfast specials he got the waitress ready to betray her boss at a moments notice.

After eating he started to wonder around before heading to the best club in town. Walking into Area 69 Aiden had noticed the place was kind of a mess. There at the bar had been three of the others sins, and one he had been looking for. "Morning everyone, and how are my favorite people this day?" His words where filled with something that almost sounded like boredom as he walked up to the bar. His eyes lingered on the owner of the bar before looking to Greed. "Pearl I need to thank you for sending me those last people. They almost bought out my whole shop causing me to need to regrow everything." Next he looked to Wrath who was already with a drink in hand as he took a seat. "I think I might have one of those as well if you don't mind Rayne. So who let a tornado into your club? Normally this place is clean enough to need to spill some blood on the floors." His tone was filled with curiosity as he tried to think of what to do for the rest of the day. His plants wouldn't need him for a long time.

[Seraphiel The Forgiving]

As far as gods and heav'nly essences
Can perish: for the mind and spirit remains
Invincible, and vigor soon return.

Lord Beelzebub
Lord of the Flies
The morning was cold. The sun was warm. That was all Beelzebub found enjoyable so far. The city smelled like s**t. The people, no, the scum were all obnoxious. Disrespectful. Worthless. All this place cared for was money and sex. It seemed two of his nieces were doing their part quite well. Still, shortsighted. Money? What good was wealth if never used? What good was it when used on things that did nothing but please you for the moment? Stupid, the lot of them. And sex? A commodity, at best. Enjoyable, yes, but nothing more. At least not in a city such as this. Stupid, the lot of them... Mortals.

The Lord of Flies stood outside of the bar, one of his nephews had already walked in - Wrath. Standing there, Beelzebub stared up at the sky. The clouds. Possibly the worst part of this world was it's constant reminder of the world lost. All one had to do was look up, to the clouds. Clouds. ******** the clouds. With glaring eyes, Beelzebub took his gaze elsewhere. A few disoriented patrons were still making there way out of the club as he pulled from his suit jacket a silver cigarette case. Ignoring their presence, he took one of the toxic sticks from it's confines and set the container back where it rest. Lighting one with a match, struck from the wall, he inhaled the deadly fumes. Delicious. As the Lord of Flies and father of Gluttony, Beelzebub own being embodied such perversion, as well. To engorge oneself on everything. Anything. And he loved it. But he loved one thing above all the others: power.

A man had stumbled out the door, completely inebriated, and was making his way over towards Beelzebub. The Dark Prince could smell it on him: Greed. She'd certainly done a number to the poor fellow. As he closed the gap, he reached out to use Beelzebub's shoulder as a way of balancing. Do not touch me, he told the man. Though it sounded like a simple demand, there was something much more powerful behind the words. As if laced throughout the sentence was an energy that had absolute control. Whether through respect or fear, the man complied and wandered off on his own. Taking another drag from the cigarette, he put the glowing embers out by pressing it into the back of his hand. An audible hiss came from his burning flesh as it took the heat in full. Yet no sign of pain came to the Prince's face. Instead, it remained apathetic, devoid of all emotion. Almost as if he hadn't noticed it at all. And in it's wake, no mark was left. Putting the partially used stick back in the case, he walked back into the club.

What did you do?

The voice came from the one and only Lust. Pretty little thing, as her title demanded. Surprising, seeing as her father was Asmodeus. How that pitiful excuse managed to create something like this was beyond Beelzebub's understanding. A moment later, she was spitting out orders. That's more like it, just like her father. A smile managed to creep it's way onto Beelzebub's lips. Wrath was there, at the bar. And by him, Treachery. Lovely. Oh, and Greed. It was like a family get together. Even better, Wrath was already drinking. Wonderful idea.

Without a word, he walked to the bar, set his jacket on a seat, removed his cufflinks, rolled his sleeves up, and set two gold coins on the table. Lust would understand what it meant. Still silent, he walked around the bar (unlike Greed, Beelzebub was aware of a thing called 'courtesy'). His eyes scanned over the highest tier of scotch on the shelves before settling upon their target. Reaching up, he took hold of his prize: a bottle of Dalmore 50 Year Old Decanter. The bottle priced at around $11,000, nowhere near the value of the golden coins he'd set on the table. But money was only as good as what it procured, and Beelzebub had a self-imposed rule to follow a set price. Well, when dealing with family, that is. Pouring himself a glass, he added two cubes of ice, replaced the bottle to where he'd taken it, made his way back to his seat, and took a sip. Delicious.

He glanced up, at the creatures in his company, and finally broke his silent tone. Good morning, he said to small group, You look as beautiful as ever, Miss Rayne. Soon, I'd hope his Kingship decides to replace your father with you on the Council. It'd certainly be more pleasing to the eyes, and I've no doubt you've a better gift for tongue than he does, anyway.

Where: Area 69.
With: Lust, Greed, Wrath, and Treachery.
Dressed: Royalty.

Karityr

Moonbeam Flame

Heartlesscereallover

SparksWinterWonderland

[03I8]

Seraphiel The Forgiving

I tried so hard to keep myself from calling Dante, "God's widdle messenger," where I typed, "God's man-in-black," instead.

▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧▩▧

Carina de Sainte
thinking ➺ [ what have I done, what must I do? ] ♡ wearing ➺ [ casual day out ] ♡ with ➺ [ myself ] ♡ at ➺ [ pharmacy ==> side-street of Vegas ] ♡ mood ➺ [ guilty ]

Carina breathed a deep sigh of relief, leaning against the wall in the local pharmacy's waiting area. She had made it there without a single hindrance, something that she silently thanked the heavens for over and over. No bumping into sins, no being kidnapped, no buff dudes with scary guns--everything was as it should have been. Normal, calm, and free of any "Holy War" influences. The young woman stepped away from the wall, moving up in line. One of the unfortunate aspects of living normal life: you had to wait in lines. Of course, she would take that any day over waiting in dark alleyways for "contacts." Yes, there was something peaceful about dealing with human problems over celestial ones, not that she would complain about either.

-Bloop.-

Carina's stomach dropped like a stone at the sound of her phone's messaging system. She wasn't antisocial, but she also wasn't a socialite. Usually when her phone pinged, it was because Dante had something to say, and that was nearly never a good sign. Anxiety rose in place of the pit she felt in her chest, the muscles in her throat contracting. It feel as though she couldn't breathe, despite there being no physical ailment. "Breathe, breathe..," the girl thought, trying to keep herself calm. She straightened out her shaky fingers, eyes fluttering shut. She didn't want to reach for the phone, but it was her responsibility. What was it he had told her? Oh, right. That as the Virtue of Humility, a title that she felt was far above her, she was supposed to lead the others to success. Right. Success. Victory over the Sins. Totally possible. All the Sins had was guns, and money, and control, and everything.

"Stop, Cari, you're making it worse," Carina chewed on the inside of her cheek, opening her eyes as she finally made the move to reach for her phone. She stared at the device with blank doe eyes, a question presented over the home screen.



Phone

Message Received. Would you like to open?



Hesitating, Carina almost missed the facts that she was next in line and one of the cashiers was waving her over. Walking up hurriedly, she handed over her new script with a short apology about her distraction. The cashier smiled with a nod, taking the Rx and walking to the back. Carina, now left standing there alone, looked back to the phone still in hand. She tapped, "Open," with her pointer finger.



Dante

Message Received:
Next time, you get to meet the contact in a shady alley. Also, contact compromised, most likely by Pride.



Humility would have cursed if she wasn't so against it. "Pride?" What did Pride have to do with this? Wheels spun in the young girl's mind, thinking about Dante's usage of the word, "compromised." To be compromised meant, in this case, to have become vulnerable... Vulnerable? This was Dante, the guy that God himself sent back to aid His virtues. Was she really supposed to believe that such a man would make such a momentous mistake? The answer was no, because Dante didn't make mistakes. That was the epitome of why he had been sent here and not some Archangel with a spear-headed pike. No, if Dante said that the contact had been compromised, it meant that the contact was taken or worse...

"Here you go, ma'am," Carina zoned back in to the more fanciful side of reality as the cashier came back. He had his arm stretched across the counter, a smile on his face as he handed a prescription bag to her. Stunned into speechlessness by this turn of events, Humility could only stare at him, mouth slightly agape, until he spoke once more. "...Ma'am?" Carina took the prescription, casting her sight to the side.

"Uh, right. I apologize, I was thinking about something." Carina spoke slowly, as if uncertain of herself, as well. She offered a small smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. She felt guilt coil itself, noose-like, round her throat. She wasn't exactly lying, so why did it feel like she had done something terribly wrong? "Thank You, sir. Have a nice day." Dipping her head as she left, the girl completely exited the store before she decided to reply to God's man-in-black.



Cari DS

Message Draft:
Sorry. Are the others safe?



By others, of course, Carina was alluding to the seven virtues beside her. Funny, she used to think there were only seven virtues, total. Turns out, there were technically thirty or more virtues, as documented by various religious establishments. Considering that Dante had only gathered the eight of their group, the others were either the same virtues under different names, conjecture, or something had gotten rid of them entirely. Hitting the send button with her thumb, Humility shivered. A contact probably dead mixed with the thought of twenty-three+ archaic virtues suddenly fading from existence... At least there was now solid reasoning behind the discomfort in her own skin. That is to say, if one of Dante's contacts had been, "compromised," as he posed it, what exactly was keeping Pride or any other from denying her the ability to exist, as well?


Virtue of Humility

[Seraphiel The Forgiving]

Do not be afraid; our fate
Cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.

Dante Alighieri
The journey from alley to street took no time at all. In a city that prizes it's night life above all else, it had yet to even wake up at a time like this. The streets were almost barren, making the trip from his car to the location of Humility brief, as well. Yet, that was also due partially to the fact he was speeding. With reflexes beyond comprehension, he zipped through city, from the slums to the not-so-slummy-residential areas, he avoided notice by taking as many short cuts and back alleys as possible. Thank the Father he'd taken the time to make sure one of the Virtues was a cop, otherwise he'd be screwed. Finally reaching his destination, he slowed down and parked parallel to the sidewalk. The few people making their way about this early took the time to gawk at the lovely, black car, he'd rolled up in. Sure, the Sins may have the most money, but who's to say the Virtues weren't at least somewhat well off?

His phone went off. A message from Loyalty. Excellent news. Humility was still buying coffee, from the looks of it. Good, there was time to reply;

Contact: Ms. Hanson
Msg: Excellent work, meeting with De Sainte, will update shortly.

Another message came in, this one from Humility. No need to reply, she was just inside the shop. She should be leaving any moment. His hand shot up to fix his tie, though it hardly needed fixing. What about his jacket? No, nothing wrong there, in perfect order. His pants??? Same, even the scuff from early had rubbed off. Oh, but his shoes? No, even they appeared presentable. No matter how often he saw the virtue, no matter how many times he did this, no matter how many cycles he'd experienced, there was always something about Humility... Something demanding, almost, that made Dante go that extra step. Even Diligence was unable to affect him in this way. No, just Humility. As if he wanted to look perfect for the innate leader of the group.

And there she was, walking out of the shop. Leaning against it, his back propped up to the wall, he quickly took step behind her. Whether she noticed him or not, he wasn't sure. Probably. Definitely. Wait.... Did she? Of course she did.... The others are fine, he let out in a soft voice, sure that it was only audible to them. Oh, and good morning Mademoiselle De Sainte. I trust you're well, today? I noticed you had a meeting with a local psychiatrist scheduled for earlier this morning. I trust everything is fine, he slipped his hand into his jacket, pulling out his phone. Unlocking it, he scanned over a pdf, Unfortunately, the loss of Mr. Bennet will set us back a bit. He was talking about his contact, But we were prepared for such losses, as they were inevitable from the start. He smiled his warm smile, a way to assure his 'boss' that everything would be right. If you'd like, I'm more that willing to drive you to your next appointment, Madame.


Where: A back alley of Vegas.
With: Myself, unless you wish to count these goons.
Clothed: This suit makes me look dashing, am I right?

Midnight_ Guardian_Angel

03I8