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[Mar. 31st, 2011|06:07 pm]
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WHO: Gabe and Raziel
WHAT: Information seeking
WHERE: Raziel's London flat
WARNINGS: Doubtful.

The off-duty font of knowledge )
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[Mar. 31st, 2011|04:48 pm]

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Who: Grumbletwins power activate!
What: Pub time, discussing new names.
Where: One of London's finest alcohol procurement establishments.
When: Tuesday evening.
Warnings: Antiquated snarking and occasional sweary.
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[Mar. 10th, 2011|07:47 pm]

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WHO: Kabe and Raziel
WHAT: Catching up
WARNINGS: Doubtful.

No sólo de pan vive el hombre )
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[Feb. 27th, 2011|01:49 pm]

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Who: Ash and Raziel
What: Discussing crap and being spooky cute.
Where: Uruk
When: Sunday
Warnings: Possible.

His discussion with Ariel was a mental struggle to keep himself from letting the darker side of him reply to the alchemist, but Raziel did not let on. It was with great trepidation that he needed to approach the discussion of what had to be done with his beloved, as well. Of all the touchy subjects, her brother was one, for both of them. While Asmodeus was something of his tutor in the early days, he'd become more than that - a pain in his ass, and a nemesis in many ways. In fact, despite the fact that Asmodey had taught Raziel a great many things about the world that he had never known, there was no other being in existence, past or present, that Raziel was hellbent on being nothing like.

And he couldn't trust the demon for any reason, and never had. However, Ash was Asmodey's Achilles' heel. He knew that she could ask anything of the fiery-haired devil, and he would do it for her, no questions asked.

He had been walking in the desert for an hour, and returned with a clear mind, walking into the great hall of the temple, hands behind him. "Astarte?" He called, "I've returned. May we discuss things?"
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[Feb. 25th, 2011|08:18 pm]

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[Current Mood |pensive]

WHO: Ariel & Raziel
WHAT: Tactical discussion
WARNINGS: Doubtful

Restless sinner, rest in sin )
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[Feb. 1st, 2011|04:08 pm]

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WHO: Ariel and Raziel
WHAT: Pooling information
WARNINGS: The usual. Snark, snark, snark.

Ariel popped into what looked like an entrance hall, though it was empty. Compared to London, it was very warm, and he undid his shirtsleeves, pressing them up to his elbows. He felt out of place, as if he'd landed in Cleopatra's court, though Miss Astarte was no Cleopatra. Still, he wasn't about to spend much more time in this place, not when he had an appointment to keep. "Raziel?" He called. "It's me; are you here?" He could have teleported to the wrong place, for all he knew; he'd teleported based on his best guess.
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