Who: Azazel and Lilith What: The two Superpowers of Hell need to talk. When: 12 July, 8 pm Where: Picadilly Circus, London Warnings: Will be edited accordingly.
The crowd of oblivious humans didn't realise they were making space for her, but as Lilith stepped out of the underground she smirked to see how Fenrir had cleared a space for her among them.
The light was falling, and the square was filling up with the night-time crowd, the London lights twinkling like jewels in firelight. Bright neon, car fumes, the rise and swell of sound. The city had changed since the last time she'd been here, centuries ago. She liked it better now. Materialistic, ever-hungry, vice and sin alongside the most exquisite elegance and taste, seperated by only a heart-beat.
Humans were even easier to manipulate when they didn't believe in the Real World. This century was good for her brothers and sisters.
Her high heels clicked softly on the pavement as she made for the statue of Eros, following Fenrir. She was unsure of how this evening would go, but she'd taken precautions - like Fenrir - and had a lightly sketched plan that required a little dressing up. Cairo's hair was freshly washed and blowdried, silky and loose around the shoulders left bare by the slinky black dress she wore. Sweeping low over her chest and reaching down mid-thigh, it caressed every curve, complimented perfectly by the elegant silver bracelet on her right wrist. Small diamond tear drops glittered at her ears, swaying gently with the black leather handbag under one shoulder. . "Azazel," she fairly purred, resting her hand on Fenrir's furred head as the Hound brought them together. "I'm glad you could make it."