#abyssalarchmage

[professor-of-predators]

"Borrowed it." He doesn't move from the doorframe, pressing the vibrant crimson feathers behind the shoulders of his forewings into the wood and with it, the faint smell of the oils that keep his plumage glossy -- to a human, it is barely perceptible; the subtlest hint of a good fragrance mixed with thunderstorm, a vaguely musky and rainy smell; but to other creatures it might as well be a written (and very large) sign that he has been here.

“From whom?” Jane asked, watching him slightly. He seemed almost irritated. Possibilities popped in and out of her mind. Was he injured? Sick? Had she done something, or simply caught him at an odd time?

Finally the curiosity ate through her politeness and Jane frowned at him. “What are you doing?” 

[professor-of-predators]

Azriel just sort of APPEARS, like he usually does, only at the moment he appears a little stiffer, a little more tense than normal. That he has his wings unconcealed, and purposely leans back against the kitchen doorframe as he silently drinks a glass of water, is surely unrelated.

She’s almost used to his sudden appearances. Almost. She certainly should have been. He was always popping in and out of her apartment, coming to visit or raid her fridge. This time though, he seemed different. Tenser. She couldn’t even remember the last time he’d appaeared without his wings. 

“Az?” She asked, her own cup paused halfway to her lips. “Where did you get that cup?” 

[bastardsunlight]

"Sounds smart. Or dangerous, depending on what gets in." He turns to scan the room, seemingly unfazed by the gun. "You expecting trouble?"

"Yeah,” came the breathless response. Just because the stranger lowered his weapon... his magic or whatever it was, didn’t mean Sam was about to. All kinds of creatures played you false to get close enough to bite. It was their nature. Still the sigils glowed, but did not burn, leaving Sam with questions. 

[bastardsunlight]

He glances around slowly, FEELING his surroundings more than looking. "On a basic level, yeah, I know what you're doing." His hand closes, the flame dispels. It's a gesture of goodwill, or at least it's meant to be; if the other presses him, he can have it charged and aimed again in the blink of an eye. "What I don't know is why you've turned the place into an arcane Fort Knox. And an angel trap to boot.. Guess I was just CURIOUS."

“Wanted to make sure there was one door in and no doors out,” Samresponds, body still tense, gun still pointed. Some of the sigils areemitting a glow as the stranger stands nearby. The younger Winchesterbrother detects this, but says nothing. Asking something what it isdoesn't always get a straight answer and right now, he doesn't havetime.

[bastardsunlight]

He's been drawn here by the use of magic -- it might as well be a bright flare on his radar, and from experience, it's worth investigating. He's on his guard; this place is packed with wards and sigils, and though breaking or bypassing such things is one of his more finely tuned skills, he knows he needs to be careful. Any HUMAN who knows this much about arcane security is dangerous. "Through the door," he answers truthfully, but with the faintest hint of a grin.

Thedoor is, upon Sam's cursory glance, unlocked and ajar. He's been outof sorts today—actually for the past two weeks, since Dean wentmissing—and while wards, spells, and sigils seem to come likebreathing, closing and locking a door evidently does not. With his firearm drawn (though not pointed toward the stranger), he feels a little safer.

“Okay…well I was going to let you know I wasn't worshiping Satan in hopesyou'd leave, but you just conjured a fireball from thin air, so I'mbetting you knowwhat I'm doing or not doing—like, better than I do... And it feels like mentioning Luc.. Satan’d get you to stay.”

Theidea is hardly farfetched and the guy hadproperly identified the angel trap.

[bastardsunlight]

He pauses. So maybe it HADN'T been meant for him. The Archmage lowers, but does not discharge, the handful of flame; despite his concealment of his more monstrous aspects, he swears he can feel feathers bristling at his back. "What, or who, the hell are you trying to CATCH?"

“An... angel.” The response is a bit sharper than intended, but looking this guy up and down, there’s no way he’s an angel. Anyway, there are wards everywhere. He never would have found them, or gotten past them if he was. Right? Reaching around behind himself, Sam grasps for his firearm, intent on seeing just what this guy is made of, but he’s got to be careful. Whatever he’d conjured earlier has some heat to it; Sam can feel the residual effects of the magic. “How’d you get in here, anyway?”

[bastardsunlight]

"That's a nice angel trap you've got there. It'd be a shame if someone were to.." Azriel casually charges a spell in one hand, taking aim. "..BURN IT."

“DUDE. WHY.”

Sam moves between the sigil and the sorcerer.. or what he assumes is a sorcerer. He’s clearly had enough of this crap for one night.

[bastardsunlight]

9/9 gods damn.

@abyssalarchmage to Ulfric at some point probably