Rachel (rmontana) wrote in bizarre_city, @ 2013-04-20 19:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | remy montana |
August 4, 2013
Remy Montana/Balaur and Tristan Collins
Java Voom, a coffee shop
8 pm
Plotting
Most days in the life of the fake priest were spent toying with the minds of an unsuspecting flock of believers. They didn't know it, but their souls--and possibly bodies--would someday be within his grasp. Sometimes he felt lazy for his particular method of collecting souls for the unholy harvest, but then he remembered that he had overtaken a priest, had been in control of the body for a good, long time, and managed to give a convincing enough message to his congregation that carefully skirted topics that could damage him to bring in the sheep. Then he'd have a little chuckle and feel justified in his efforts. He wasn't an overachiever like the higher ranked demons, but he did just fine for what he was.
Though his primary mission was to gather sinners for the lake of fire, whenever he heard of or found an angel playing in or around his sandbox he felt the need to oust the troublesome goody two-shoes. It just so happened that he had heard, first through rumors, that there was an angel in town. Interest piqued, he found one of the sources of the rumors--a non-believer whose lack of righteousness was certain--and eventually "convinced" the man to give Balaur all the information he had. This then dead-ended with a man named Tristan Collins, but instead of stalking him to find out more about this alleged angel sighting, Remy decided to contact him through the trail of informants he'd found. He sent along one simple message: "I can help with your angel problem. Meet me Sunday night at Java Voom, all black."
So he sat in the coffee shop across town from his church of unholiness, dressed head to toe in black save for the white clerical collar he wore. Even his coffee was black, not that he ever drank the brew. It was just after his last sermon of the day, which had seen a woman fall to the floor, convulsing with seizures. Most of the other patrons had assumed she'd been "filled with the spirit" and so let her be. Remy, for his part, had continued preaching around her. She eventually recovered and dazedly made her way back to a pew. The priest hadn't bothered changing out of his costume, instead heading straight to the coffee place so that he'd get there early.