O Daughter of Babylon

these magi abhor you, unadored angel.

[luxminus]

It's the flower of light in the field of darkness that's giving me the strength to carry on.

#LUXMINUS !! Talitha Vermille, Nephilim Assassin. Fallen Angel of God's Wrath.

An independent & selective OC blog mired in Religious Themes, Anger Issues, Drug Addiction, and Seeking Purpose in Life. Corralled and crucified here, By Veronica!

21+, EST-5, Content Expected: Religious Imagery, Blood, Drug Usage, Strong & Suggestive Language, Violence, Body Horror & More.

CARRD ☆ STARTERS ☆ MEMES ☆ EDITOR: BETA

[tweets-from-the-tower]

[pitchcanker]

WRATH

[spakona]

The name is familiar, and that's clear enough by the way her eyebrows shoot upwards sharply. It shouldn't surprise her that it's still standing, but so much of Boston is still standing. The only real thing that's strange is her, from a different time and a different world.

"I was invited in once," during a high profile job -- it was an invitation meant to offer their appreciation, "Far too fancy for my blood. I bet all its members would have a conniption if they saw it now."

Hell, maybe she would have. She'd barely kept it together walking back into her old home. So long as the inhabitants there weren't worth trailing off for, then Evelyn was perfectly content with that solution.

"It all looks so different," even if the things that her companion spoke about were familiar, it was hard to accept they were one in the same, "At least the library is still up. It would be fucking awful if it was lost in the war, too."

What a fucked up sense of priorities -- families lost, people lost. And here she is relieved about a library. Instead of dwelling on it, Evelyn sighed, and began checking the laser rifle she'd gotten from Preston. Thinking was suicide. Going through the motions was all she could bear.

"Have you been to Boylston often? I'm sure it doesn't cost a years' salary for some to get in these days."

[luxminus]

"You'll be able to ask the remaining members just how they feel about the state of their club once we arrive." They had been QUITE outspoken about Talitha intruding on their space. How now, she wondered, would they respond to someone from their time, from their lives, reappearing and without a veil of dust clinging to her bones.

Turning the valve on Gehenna, a fresh bout of gold flame lashed across the blade. Equal parts beacon and warning about her as she began her march toward the club.

"I've only ever been once. During a pilgrimage toward Trinity I was called inside by a pointed expression of despair... I found quite a rare vintage inside."

As she walked the streets, she felt comfortable closing her eyes. It was easier for her to traverse by faith than by sight, most days. Allowing one sense to rest, and another to take its place.

A higher sense, that told her there was a band of raiders moving outside of the range of the Combat Zone and nearing their location. It told her there that Swann was deep, deep asleep in his hole, and that Evelyn behind her was past the edge, but remaining afloat through sheer determination.

"After we recover for the night..." She opened her eyes again, casting her gaze up toward the library, the 'sight' of the ghouls feeding near the back entrance fading. "...we can take some time in the Library. If you'd like, that is."

A comfort that could be taken. A brief one, but one nonetheless.

[just-barrow]

Sofia Boutella as Eve Mansour in SAS: Rogue Heroes

[luxminus]

Every scale of her soul, serpentine and perdition-borne, was sharpened to a razor and thrumming with the rhythm of War. This was an ENEMY. This was HER ENEMY. Darkness unleashed, cast in the flesh of a person.

"I see you, Prisoner in misery & chains. I know you as you are, and I weep for that which weighs on you."

She reaches for her sword, a custom nine millimeter pistol that had seen her through tragedy and triumph alike from the tender age of seven. The weapon was loaded, ready for battle, but not yet raised at the woman in scarlet.

"You dwell in darkness, and the shadow of death, @hexsreality. Let me share my light with you, to break those bonds... or force me to act as I am bid by them above."

[luxminus]

Seven books sat open behind her, sigils, stains and signs from eras long forgotten, half-remembered and cast from the annals spread across pages, paragraphs and psalms.

Magic had never been her strongest subject in the coven. The Many Mothers tried not to allow her to delve too deeply into the mystic arts, for fear of inciting the monster that sat in her gullet, but in such an oversaturated environment, it was hard not to learn by osmosis.

"Do you have a form in mind already? Preferential features I should draw on?"

Changing herself was easy. She did it often, and with no more effort than it took to inhale. Inverting that? Exhaling her efforts unto @manneatcr should have been just as simple. Right?

[luxminus]

"The third proverb has said as much..."

Trust in the Lord with all your heart. The plans scripted above, multi-threaded and vast in their designs, were not for those below to question or deviate from. Their job, both Talitha and @lcngdays was to do as they were told.

“maybe this is for the best.”

Lifting her head from her position of penitence, she turned her gaze toward the individual that was questioning his place in the great wheel.

"If you have doubts, air them now and then never again. I won't tolerate uncertainty clouding my efforts."

[luxminus]

Can I interest anyone in a holy* starter call from one Talitha E. Vermille?

[luxminus]

I didn't forget about Tali. I've just been recovering from some medical issues. I'll bring God's Wrath down on your headtops soon, promise!

[luxminus]

I know we all respect and support the church out here, and that none of us would EVER say or do anything to poke fun at some of its beliefs, bonds, burdens or baggage...

but the idea of the intro to 'Jesus is the One' being Talitha's theme song/lyrical leitmotif has me... weak.

Talitha: Bitch, you better praise God or I'ma shoot, and that's on God I ain't playing 'bout my Lord and Savior, I'm on my job If you ain't a Christian, I'ma stab you in the face If it ain't 'bout Jesus, I'ma hit you with this K! (Chorus Singers: Jesus Is The One, He's The One!) Tali, again: Hell yeah, praise Jesus Christ!

[incubabe]

"Whether it is or it isn't," and sadly, Pennsylvania was (or is, as it were, is, or will be), "no bus driver's gonna let you on. Forget the accoutrements, the bike'd be enough for 'm to keep on drivin'." God. Why am I talking? You said no, she accepted it, give her the polite nod, be thankful that this at-best heavily armed woman is not bringing it to bear against you!

"Yeah. No problem." Let it go, let it go, let -- "Listen, there's a women's shelter, 39th and Spring Garden. I don't think they'll let you take in all of your stuff, but it's better than nothing." This smile, at least, had the warmth of sincerity about it, for Ms. Cross was an excellent actor.

[luxminus]

"Hm... I must be so very far from home." No weapons she'd understood. Some would be made uncomfortable by the presence of such an arsenal, not all could have the fortitude of the woman standing at Talitha's side. The bicycle, however? Perhaps rural towns populated only by fleeting Greyhounds were not a basis for universal experience after all.

Kickstand raised, Talitha turned away from the street, one foot before the other with thoughts turning to not being at rest for the hours it'd take to get-?

"That's very kind of you to let me know. Thank you." Genuine appreciation offered, Talitha was often surprised by the 'kindness of strangers'. She couldn't leave half a dozen holy weapons unattended and outside of a shelter for even a night, the risk was far too high... but the offering was heart warming, and would give her some solace as she wandered the torrential streets back toward her hotel.

"If ever our paths cross again, I'll owe you. A meal, shelter, a soldier, a favor, what have you. You've my word on that."

[kxllerblond]

Clark did not actively ease (was it even possible for him to relax?), but he did seem to at least grow visibly more calm with each step they managed away from the cafe. He had stopped somewhere off and out of the way, arms crossed in a confident but otherwise moody stance. ❝-—So you pestering me wasn't even your initial priority. You inconvience me on a whim. ❞ he didn't know whether to laugh or feel insulted, frankly. 

And a coven to the south? Something ELSE he'd have to look into. ❝ Witches or bloodsuckers? ❞ he asked suddenly, head cocked to he side, the main  meat of the conversation ignored for the time being. After a beat and before she could likely get much of an answer out, he gave a dismissive gesture. ❝ Actually, I don't care right now. I'll fix whatever you fuck up later if need be. ❞ and he would and it was not a matter of ego or said with the intention of dismissing her...it was just fact. When things ran amuck on the supernatural side of things in the state, he was typically the one to come and clean things up. He lived there after all and messes attracted more people like Tali...and Clark did his best to avoid that. 

❝ You expect to discern the type of person I am from one short interaction? Christ, and that's ignoring the other flaws in that method. The fact I could sense something about you, the fact you decided to confront me in my place of business. ❞ he held little back in the shortness of his tone as he looked her up, then down, and clucked his tongue. ❝-—But I suppose that's why you are what you are and not a scientist. ❞

His weight shifted from one leg to the other, a quiet exhale serving as a place holder between ramblings and a means to calm his own inner storm. ❝ Bad, by the way. I am objectively a bad person. But so are you. As for expecting a physical confrontation? It's a given with your kind, no? I simply want it away from the collateral of both my business and the patrons inside. ❞

[luxminus]

"I was told that there are no accidents. Mysterious though Her ways may be, they were not crafted by rolls of dice." No, not a 'whim', a calling. An illuminating word and a guiding hand led her to his doors, just as they'd carried her through all of her myriad adventures, assignments and assassinations.

The question he asks her next isn't necessarily a curious one. It is the logical question to ask when presented with that information, but his immediate follow-up and the assumption that SHE was simply a violent crusader, a leather bound hunter hocking rock salt slugs and spitting cold iron? That gave her pause.

"I would be very interested in seeing you 'fix' my visit to the 'Mères Maléfiques'. As volatile as the mothers can be? If you survived setting foot one on their sanctified soil, a miracle will have been performed." She sips at her coffee again, a cursory swirl of the cup followed at lip height, to poorly hide the curious smile blooming further and further as he spoke.

He thought her foolish. Impulsive. Ignorant, even. She did not disagree, she was all these things and more. The only beast allowed within the temple was one well-versed in means of devouring other beasts.

"I discerned what type of person you were when first we locked eyes. The interaction that followed it was irrelevant to that purpose."

To see vice & virtue in tandem when gazing through one's windows, that was her gift. A lone, mercurial gift, among a deluge of curses. One such curse weighing her head down, bloodying her gaze from time to time.

"I've never claimed to be good. Do you honestly believe I've deluded myself into thinking such?" No, that was a learned opinion. It had grounds elsewhere. "Have those who've wielded the cross in opposition of your being presented themselves as 'good'? Truly, and wholly 'good'?"

How disgusting of them. Utterly, and selfishly, disgusting.

"I don't wish to fight you." Her heartrate was steady as she spoke, golden glowing eyes leaving his as she tossed her nigh-empty cup down the length of this distant locale, finding the mouth of a trash bin from yards out. "If I wanted your life I'd have taken it."

Lying was not in her company mandate, nor was vainglorious posturing. If the horn had truly sounded, she'd have given herself to its command and erased this man from the Earth. She would not have stopped, nor been stopped, until the deed was done. That is the kind of beast she was, the kind of beast allowed within the temple.

"Thank you for this conversation, and for enlightening me to your nature. I don't know their weight in your eyes, but you've my apologies for my unwanted presence."

[lovesinistra]

[luxminus]

"Sometimes you just hit the gas and start thinking about the Crusades, man. A bunch of long-haired, big armed boys running into middle earth and just having it out about who loves God more. Brown people, black people, white people, all in one space just fucking it out; just fighting it out.

'I love God more.' 'No, I love God more!' 'I'll fucking... suck your dick!'"

The cigarette hanging from her lips ashes itself, dusting her with holy nicotine and reminding her that she was not alone. "Sorry, what was the question?"

[fhtagn-and-tentacles]

NTN 

by Sergei Sorochkin

[luxminus]

That's a good dent right? It's not everything, but that's like... seven replies? That's gotta count for something. How many points do I still owe you on this?