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Nanji listened to both the Wolf and Sariel's words, her heart fluttering about almost uncontrollably as she looked to the creature holding her for protection and strength. With a small smile she looked up at him and two dull thudding sounds met her ears, her eyes growing wide as she felt one of the Wolf's knives dig into the flesh just below her arm.
Sariel fell forward slightly and with a small strangled cry Nanji fell from his grasp; hitting the floor with a loud thud. Her eyes closed only for a moment, yet what would happen in that moment was, if anything, crucial to her new situation.

There was a small ink stain on the floor when she opened her eyes and had herself collected; the noble, beautiful creature Sariel seemed to disappear, two glimmering daggers left from when they had pierced his papery flesh. With a small breath she steadied her heart, her eyelashes fluttering as they began to fill with tears; a pure look of innocence on her face as she glanced upwards to the Wolf. There was nothing she could say in the moment, and as she lowered her eyes; her hands shot forward grasping the parchment between eager fingers and quickly tucking it away in her pocket, hoping that if she had saved what was left he might return.

There was a moment it would seem where time was indeed suspended, and in this moment Nanji looked to every face in the room, avoiding the Wolf's eyes and general direction; the only glimmer left was the salty glean of tears. It was as if the consequences of her actions had already come full tilt.

Vaatra smiled as he heard the words come out of the angel's mouth. It was a smile of rememberance, and a smile of victory over a foe, all in one. He was sure that this would end badly, but he didn't really care.

Once the wolf was dealt with the wingless would be forced to do one of two things, try to take the book to the church or leave the book at the Joint where Vaatra and his brother would destroy it. The first of those two options was much, much, more likely. Either way, Vaatra fully intended to get that book and if Hikaru or Gaberiel or whatever he preferred to go by in this day and age try to take the book with him on his way back to the church. Well Vaatra, as much as he did sometimes, occasionally, once in a while miss the days of being on the same side as the angel. He was willing to kill him for that book. Because if the church got an item of that magnitude, the country and perhaps even the world would change in a way that Vaatra was not particularly inclined to be pleased with.

But for now the enemy was not the angel, instead it was the wolf. So Vaatra downed the last of his drink, disappeared the glass, and appeared himself his trusty shotgun. "Well then brother? Ready to rebuild this place again?"

There were few sounds coming from above now, small lingering whispers of voice straying through the floorboards; there was very little that could shake Ama once she was asleep. Slowly her oceanic eyes fluttered open, the fuzzy haze of alcoholic delight still clouding her vision, making the world obscure and incomplete. Slowly she looked around the front of the well lit bar, thinking for some reason that it had already reached well past closing time; more then enough reason for her to go home. The whispers grew louder for a moment and a dull thud sounded from somewhere above her, it was definitely time to make her leave. With a slow and lazy stumble Ama exited the bar the small jingle of the bell making her head reel in pain, it was late enough that the patrol wouldn’t find her and early enough that she might still be able to make it home before her parents woke to find her missing.

Mrrrr...


The Wolf grinned, that strange, almost-purring growl punctuating his pleasure at the situation - this was all too fun, all too enticing. He squatted down, fingertips lightly resting against the cold wooden floor - somehow, the pose brought more to mind a beast poised to leap than it did a restive madman.

"Hush, little pigeon of mine. Clipped wings can't be redeemed, no."

Languidly, his arm seeming almost to flow rather than reach, the Wolf straightened out one limb, careful, elegant fingers closing gently on the bindings of the Red Book. He lifted it from the ground, eyes lazily flitting over the page it was open on.

Shff...

Shff..

"Ah."

With a quiet, pitiful noise, the page tore free, wrenched from its place within the book by deft and unerring fingers. The wolf folded it easily with the hand that held it, tucking the end of his own story into the darkness beneath his coat - it seemed as if a chill wind ruffled the extravagant fur lining of his collar for a moment, and then he stood. With measured pace, he moved until Nanji was just before him, her eyes cast anywhere but on his own - vulnerable before him, her very being open and defenseless there, on the ground.

Krik...

Forceful, certain - the grip on her neck cracked the Wolf's knuckles as he lifted her by her throat, forcing the helpless girl to her feet with a malicious twinkle in his eye.

"Trans...action..."

Looking over Nanji's head, he smiled at Hikaru, teeth of gleaming pearl unnervingly perfect in form.

"A transaction suggests an exchange of commodities, my clip-winged pigeon."

He looked back to Nanji, her eyes fearfully edged to the very limit of peripheral vision - she still refused to look him in the eye. His head tilted - this way, that. Slowly, with another growling purr, he brought his face closer to hers, tongue hungrily flicking across his own teeth.

"One for one, shall we say?"

Closer, closer - finally, with her scent filling his nostrils, the Wolf could not resist a taste. Cold, wet, but suffused by the warmth of his breath - the Wolf's tongue ran its way up the skin of her neck, a single, frightening motion following the bend of Nanji's jugular vein.

"A fair rate of exchange."


The Wolf breathed heavily, dark eyes agleam with greed as he tossed the Red Book away - a simple, fluid swing of his free hand sending it sailing through the air to skid noisily across the floor by the Wingless' feet. Slowly, the devilish rogue backed away, dragging Nanji with him...




Cold night wailed its troubles beyond the window.

Nanji could hear the creatures deep footfall's coming closer, her body began to tremble and her eyes closed slightly, her breathing quickened and her senses seeming to be null. The sound of ripping paper made her cringe, never before had she known a page to be torn from a book as beautiful as that and never before had a simple sound made her heart race so quickly. As soon as her breath left her there was a hand grasping her throat, the knuckles popping with bloodcurdling certainty.

Nanji gasped as the creature lifted her into the air, her eyes bulging slightly as she was raised to the very tips of her feet. She looked to this creature now, the glimmer in his eyes hungry and fierce, something almost enthralling. She watched the creature as his tongue ran somewhat seductively over his pearlescent teeth, the sight making her choke softly. Her hands reached forward slowly and grasped at the hand around her neck, the Wolf's head coming closer to her; his breath hot and smelling of blood, his tongue dancing along her flesh with some obvious amount of carnal satisfaction.

With a low gasp she pulled on the Wolf's hand, the cool feeling along her neck making her shiver in an almost delighted way; without much fight she was pulled closer to the window, the cold window pane rattling and shivering with the crisp autumn wind.

((Still.... Oh Mai... -Dies-))

Vaatra, with his cigar in his teeth, dropped the bottle of scotch which landed on it's side getting the delicious substance all over his cute little green bunny slippers. He then raised the pistol gripped, pump action twelve gauge and leaned around the corner of the door, to finally see his enemy. And as though it was purely to anger him he saw that the girl was in the way.

Normally he wouldn't really give a damn whether or not she died, but so far as he could remember she was quite the chef, and would work for little to nothing save room and board. He wouldn't shoot her. Besides, there were also two other factors to account for. The fact that if she took the brunt of the shot the creature would take little damage, and if she died, Gabriel might get a little pissy.

Of course, in the second or so that this took to process in Vaatra's head his brother was already flying across the room. So he, in a resigned tone, finally said. "Ah, ******** it." Then rushed in, dove to the left and while in the air, with as clear a shot as he could get, he squeezed the trigger and the firearm went off.

A summation of Story events to date:
The questionable joint, founded by two demon brothers of seemingly unparalleled power, is a place of power. In the many incarnations of the place, arcane artifacts and devices of divine and infernal power gather. The first of these artifacts, a human artifact, is an incarnation of a man who only goes by Ed. Somewhere between fifty and six hundred, the man bartends better than any soul, live or dead. The second of which is a tome that arcus and vaatra could never explain, bound at times in velvet, at other times in treebark, and others yet in the flesh of pseudonatural creatures, the book is by no means an inactive part of any Story. These two artifacts are but a few of the things that find their way to the tavern, but they are always amongst the first.
But this is a Story, not a History. The story occurs in three parts
Part the First, The Theft
One night, whilst drinking and taking care of business, the two demon brothers were graced with a young lady of a visitor. Her prowess with pasta awed the brothers, as well as their elderly bartender. She soon found herself a position in the tavern's staff. She spent some time in the tavern, taking advantage of the surplus electricity, and means of entertainment, before heading home to break the news to her broken and tattered family. Or, she would have broken the news, had not a lamppost broken both her forward momentum, and cranium. At some point, a fine gentleman by the name of Paxamule had made his way into the tavern. Whilst Arcus and Ed hurried to the young Nanji (for that was what the young lady was called) to assist in her speedy recovery, Pax slipped into the restroom, and comely Ama entered the establishment. Arcus hurried nanji up the stairs, whilst Ed served drinks, and Vaatra proceeded in his drunken stupor.
Pax became invisible, and began to lighten the pockets of ama, and proceeded to find his way towards the room where nanji was recovering. There he did what thieves do, and lightened her load as well. Arcus, quick to notice arcane doings in his establishment, locked the door with a powerful enchantment. After shooting at the girl, pax used a device to dispell the enchantment, and strode downstairs. The three demonic beings, ed, Vaatra, and Arcus gathered in the main room before arcus sent ed up to nanji's aid. The police were called in, and Pax escaped unharmed, The Theft a success.
Part Two The Murder
The officer left behind for questioning was one matthew riley, of the magical Chaos cleanup squad. The tavern being what it was, magic tended to escape with regularity. He proceeded to try to arrest two fallen angels, a young lady in their care, one of their patrons, and their vaguely infernal bartender, who was upstairs, taking care of the girl nanji. After nanji had fallen to a peaceful sleep, and ama had drifted towards the upper room, Ed came downstairs. A conflagration had broken out, and the officer was channeling the fire into his gauntlets, and pointing the residual energy at Master Arcus. Ed rushed towards the officer, and leapt in the way of a massive wave of fire. The effects were by no means anything less than gruesome and fatal. Such was the death of Ed, and he shall rest in the halls of heroes. One of the few people arcus cared about dead, he flew into a rage, and cut almost clean through Matthew.
The near-fatal wound put matthew on the defensive. His entire divine power was immediately devoted to keeping him breathing. He used a charm to transport him to a clerical station, where he currently resides in critical condition. So came the success of The Murder.
Part Three: The Rape
After dealing with the death of their long-time friend, and in the case of Nanji, short but fast friend, the three settled down for sometime. Ama left, and a newcomer by the name of Sariel appeared. Nanji found herself extremely charmed by the young man, and found herself hanging on his every word. This was, of course, the Glamr of a Vampire, but with the grief that riddled the place, none of them noticed the majick. One thing came to another, and nanji found herself alone with the new man, in a room that had, until that point, served as a storage room. In that room, there lay a book, and in that book, there lay a Story. But no story such as this one, the Story that lay in that book was a powerful entity, The Wolf. Sariel read to the girl, binding himself closer and closer to the girl's heart, and the book's will. The arcane discharge of such an event drew Arcus' attention away from the glass of hard liquor that kept him numb, and he hurried to the room. The energies also attracted the attention of another agent of the Church, this one a Fallen.
To explain the Fallen, on must tell of the Falling. An event of mass exodus from heaven, and the creation of the first demons, Satan's war with the god Yahweh is referenced in most holy texts allowed by the church. Many friendships were sundered, the closest of which was that of Gabriel, and his two lieutenants Ar Kos and Va' Treya. When Satan's rebellion began, the two sided with him, their ideals matching. But Gabriel's lasting and close relationship with the Arch-Angel Michael kept him loyal to Yahweh. The friendship was quickly stretched, and they clashed more than once on the battlefield. When the two left heaven, Gabriel swore vengeance out of a place of loss so profound it could destroy a lesser being. The two absent lieutenants became as close as brothers, and grew in infernal power. At this time, you may recognize them as players in this story. Gabriel stayed in command of the Cherubim, the largest and least specialized ranks of angels, until some point that Michael appointed him to some earthly task. Whilst in a meeting with earthly agents of his God, Gabriel was bound, and his wings removed. This prevented him from ascending to his home, and so he was at the mercy of the Church until that point they returned what was rightfully his. He developed a taste for human narcotics, and eventually a habit formed. He changed his name to Hikaru, ashamed to be known by his angelic misnomer. And then, he was called to investigate a large amount of energy, and the assault of a clerical enforcement agent.
By the time Hikaru arrived, the Story had Sariel under it's thumb, and had changed the physical reality of the room. It became a bedroom of fairytale lore, complete with a bed made of living wood. Arcus entered the room, hoping to catch sariel by surprise, and the roots of the bed slowly blocked the doorway. Words were passed, and the book cast aside, still gathering power from reality to make that which was Ink whole. Sariel slowly became a part of the book, as much paper and ink as he was flesh and blood, and something far more sinister congealed.
Hikaru entered the tavern, and spoke no small amount of terse words with Vaatra, who held no patience for the Fallen whilst his brother was in danger. The two strode up the stairs, and the Plot in the room thickened, much like a broth when cornstarch is added to it. Arcus strode to destroy the book, realizing it for what it was, and Sariel stopped him, now completely under the book's whim. The Wolf sat underneath the Cover, waiting for his opportunity to strike.