Dec. 7th, 2011

[identity profile] fujimoto-shiro.livejournal.com
Southern Cross Monastery—it’s located on a relatively small stakeout of land completely surrounded by urban sprawl. The concrete walls barely separated the surrounding office and apartment buildings, a few billboards were visible from the property’s courtyard. Those gates were open just before dawn, anyone is welcome enter the monastery: provided they are able to pass the protective sigils. Those should not be a problem for ordinary humans.

One lone person stood in the courtyard, near the doorway of one building. Despite being dressed in priest’s garb, he still wore a scarf wrapped around his neck, and had his hands stuffed into his pockets to keep warm out in the winter chill. However, there’s nothing to grumble about. The forecast called for snow on this day, and snow was his favorite thing about this season.

(( OOC: Haah... no idea if this sort of scene is allowed since it doesn't quite fit the scenario in the community description. If not, PM me and I'll remove the post. But anyway! It's an open post, time setting before the series beginning. So, how soon before the series beginning is up to you. I'll roll with it. ))
[identity profile] uncrownedangel.livejournal.com
[ The air here smells so sweet.

It's delectable. How long has it been since he last had a pair of nice, strong lungs with which to breathe in a cool breeze? Satan has lost all count of such things. The air here, though-- It is not quite the same as the way he remembers Assiah to be. It's distinctly... lacking. All that fills him is sweetness, and there is none of the putrid stench of those mice that call themselves mortal men.

Really, it's quite refreshing.

Holding up a pale hand, Satan flexes its sinews and its bones, bringing it up to caress his host's own face. Ahhh, the softness. There is such delicious pride in this one, such ego and such vanity as Satan so seldom sees. He's going to enjoy this flesh, of that he has no doubt.

Arthur A. Angel.

The body is holding up surprisingly well to his possession, able to contain all of his flames without splitting at the seams as his hosts tend to do. And the mind of the man is so very easily silenced and chained down. This 'Arthur' appears to be a very weak-willed and capricious creature at the end of the day. It's a match made in Heaven, if Satan should say so himself.

But if this creature whose body he has claimed is really so pathetic in the end, then there must be something more to why his body hosts Satan so well, and Satan has the distinct feeling it has something to do with the sweetness of the air here.

In fact, everything here is sweet. He is going to have so very much fun. Where to begin?

If memory serves, he has more than a few wayward sons on this side of creation.

Contrary to popular belief, Satan too cares deeply for those who have strayed from his flock. ]


Hello~? Is anyone out there?

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