[3.1] The First Meeting

[Azazel]

A single billowing gust of wind swept down the Main Street, not all too far from Veil as the group of Angels approached slowly. Azazel stood at the head of the group, like a sentinel of power, his eyes seemingly glinting in the murky early-evening light, the setting sun burning orange streaks across his white-blonde hair as he came to a halt, the other Angels behind also pausing in their movements. Now that they were closer, he could pick up the individual signatures coming from within the building and nodded slowly. He reckoned that with three Archangels they would have no problem facing what was within, but there was also enough there to make him wonder whether or not he would be able to pull punches in the coming fight. He looked over his shoulder at Grigori, knowing that the big man wouldn’t do so anyway, and then at Kushiel who surprisingly looked a little bit nervous. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Out of all three Archangels she was most definitely their weakest link and you are only ever as strong as your weakest link. Still, Azazel knew that she had it in her to be able to fend off anything that came at her, but for now, he needed to focus on the task at hand.

“Alright.” He muttered, his gravelly tones seemingly reverberating and bouncing around more, giving him far more volume than what he had given out. “No doubt these guys will have questions, but remember that we’re not here to play nice.” His hands moved out of his pockets and with two fingers moving out and away from the clenched fist, he positioned them a few centimetres away from the door. Icy blue eyes narrowed as he thrust the fingers forwards, colliding with the doors and sending them billowing inwards in splinters of wood and metal that rained down upon the occupants within. Azazel casually stepped within, his eyes still narrowed, his very presence seemingly chilling the air as he regarded the room before him. As his gaze traced it's path across the room, it felt as if the Archangel had a pair of spotlights training themselves upon wherever it was he stared, his sight acting almost like a beacon in the gloomy darkness of the early evening.

The bronze, setting sun silhouetted the figures of the Angels, leaving them standing like bastions, gateways, an obstacle separating the lighting within Veil and the shadows of the currently approaching night time. Azazel gave one short, brief chuckle before he finally spoke.

“Good evening.”

[Lea]

The waitress at the bar was a tall woman with very dark brown, nearly black, hair and brown eyes that had a reddish tone to them, a dark mahogany, they'd been called. She sighed quietly as patrons froze, quaking with fear. As she dried her hands and madeher way, quite calmly, to the door that let her out from behind the bar, some of the patrons were starting to react with panic. By the time she made it halfway to the door, she was walking calmly through a sea of panicking normals rushing wildly toward the fire exit... and giving her a wide berth while doing so.

She stopped, about a yard and a half away from the Angels, and put her hands on her hips with a raised eyebrow.

"You must be new here," she explained with a sigh, shaking her head after a moment of sizing up the Angels. They were obviously powerful, obviously in it to win it, whatever 'it' was. "You see, Veil is a neutral zone. A safe zone. Whatever your standing in whatever current war is going on in these streets, my bar? Is safe. Sanctuary. Like a church, except with more dancing and better food. Got it? So you're gonna nicely state your business and then stop scaring the normals, or you're going to leave. Or I'm going ot make you leave."

She gave them a sweet smile.

"Alright?"

Then she chuckled. "The unpleasantness out of the way until you decide to do something stupid..." and one fighting glove left her pocket and slid onto her hand, "why don't we introduce ourselves?" She slid on the other glove. "I'm Tifa. I run this place."

She put her hands on her hips.

"Your turn," she said in a friendly voice, with a friendly smile, and prepared to defend.

[Azazel]

Azazel calmly regarded the woman who stepped forwards in order to challenge their entry. He watched as she sized up the group whom he was with and asked them what their business was. What is it that she had called this place..? A church, sanctuary? That was the unfortunate logic of humanity. They believed that there will always be a place where they can hide from the coming storm, somewhere where they can wait it out and allow everything to blow over, before returning to their normal lives. Azazel almost envied them in a way, he never had the opportunity to sit out his issues. He'd had to solve everything the hard way, with his bare hands. It appears he'd need to solve this too.

"Sir, allow me to handle this."

Kushiel stepped from behind the larger Archangel and went to move in front of him, in order to take care of this woman before him, but Azazel simply held out a gloved hand, halting her in her tracks, whilst those cold blue eyes locked onto Tifa's mahogany brown. This woman had a fighting spirit, and Azazel could respect that... He would allow her to see the error of her ways himself.

"My name is Archangel Azazel." He said bluntly, his hand sliding back into his pocket as he took a step forwards, squaring up to the waitress. "And I'm here to do God's work."

A large boot suddenly burst forth, aiming for Tifa's gut.

[Lea]

She caught the strike. Oh, it cost her a few inches and a rather large bruise, but she caught it.

She snorted. "An Archangel? Well, Mr. Azazel, I can't say I've ever had one of those try to start trouble before."

She yanked, spun, and tossed the Angel into the opposite wall, the one adjoining the dancefloor. She hopped up onto a table, then began to cross the room casually.

"God's work, though? Yeah. That one I've heard."

She leaped down onto the floor, a large area now completely clear of paying customers, and chuckled.

"So. I guess we're dancing now, huh? C'mon, big guy; show me how good a dance partner you are."

[Azazel]

It was highly unlikely that Tifa would have been able to see Azazel's facial expression whilst she was throwing him around like a rag doll. It's a shame, if she had, she would have noticed the utmost calm mask that he was wearing on his face as he was flung into the wall, the same for the other Angels stood in the room. As she stepped down onto the floor, heading over to where he had been flung, the dust cleared to reveal that the large Archangel wasn't even there anymore.

"I think you're too slow to be my dance partner..."

Azazel's voice rang out from behind Tifa as he slid into position behind her, his hands still in his pockets, his leg coiled like a spring before lashing out in a massive kick aimed at the small of the waitress' back.