9085/Path of Glory: His Name Shall Endure

Path of Glory: His Name Shall Endure
Date of Scene:	05 February 2022
Location:	Isham Park, Inwood
Synopsis:	Another decisive victory is had by the Resistance at the Wellspring of Earth (the Ginko at Isham Park.) But while Michael is sealed away by Lydia & Co. at Central Park, Metatron takes control of the forces of Heaven, threatneing to lay waste to everything as he is not part of the game agreed upon by Michael, Gaea, and the Unknown third player.
Cast of Characters:	Michael Demiurgos, Jonathan Sims, Sarah Rainmaker, Megan Gwynn, Asariel, Cael Becker, Hope Svelgate, Caitlin Fairchild
Tinyplot:	Path of Glory

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Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Isham Park is not the largest of the great parks of upper Manhattan. In fact, it is quite dwarfed by the larger and older Inwood Hill Park to the immediate northwest. But what it does have is one of New York's greatest trees.

    The Ginko at Isham Park is well known to anyone who has lived in the area for a decent amount of time. While not native to the area, it's roots sink deep into the soil of Manhattan and it has made itself a fixture and a pillar of nature in the ever-growing city. At over seventy feet tall, with a nearly 6 foot trunk diameter, and a canopy spread well over sixty feet around, it lords over the native marble outcroppings for which Isham is known.

    It also happens to be one of the Wellsprings of Gaea: notably the Wellspring of Earth

    Which is why the angels arrive just after midnight on the fifth. Their numbers swell high into the tens of thousands--in the hopes of overwhelming the forces of the Resistance (a tactic that has thus far proven ineffective). But as they swell and pulse, lighting up the night greater than any of New York's automatic lights can even hope to, they are (once again) swarmed by the belief engines of the Gozer devices set up around the park reducing 90 percent of their number to inert colorful bricks of humanoid size. Still, when numbers rise so high, ninety percent leaves quite a considerable force remaining. Those that pass the test (mostly the strongest tiers of the Hosts) continue on to their destination.

    At the head of the column are the two most notable angels of Christian myth: Michael, ever resplendent in platinum and silver, bears a sword of blue flame in one hand, and a shield of dull grey in the other. A number of swords are strapped to his back and one more, looking older than the rest is sheathed at his hip. His wings, one brilliant white and gold, the other bloody and brown, do not flap even as he approaches with speed and grace that should not come from a creature of his height and proportional size. Even so, he comes.

    At his right is the Horn Blower, Gabriel wearing polished gold armor with blue-silver wings that flap out of time with the speed of his approach. In one hand is a simple sword that glows with the same blue light of his wings, in the other is the trumpet for which he is known. Even as he draws near, he shakes out his long blonde locks and brings the horn to his lips to let out a note that shakes the very foundations of the earth with its clarion.

    Behind them the remaining force surges forth to meet the Resistance. Without waiting for the order the Resistance forces of the militia, set up around strategic barriers open fire on the approaching angels. It takes little time for the hail of bullets to hammer into the ramining lesser forces, and sparkles of St. Elmos fire light up the night as angels die.

    Notably absent from the field are any of the massive Thrones, instead a coterie of seven Seraphim--six winged and burning with the fires of heaven--release pillars of fire that spin in tornadic fury towards the front line of barricades and militia.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    This second-to-last seal is, maybe unsurprisingly, the easiest to cast. Jon's had practice now, and earth is one of his stronger elements. Patience, protection, determination. Sand and soil, green growing things, and the banks that guide the river out to the sea. Gaea is Earth, in the most literal sense, and She wants this business to succeed, so it is terribly easy to grow vines up from the branches of the gingko tree, wrap them around the strands of magic from the wellspring, green and gold, form them into the hexafoil that is the form of the seals he's been making.

    It's easy enough that he's done with the seal before the angels arrive. Soil from Grand Central Station is sprinkled over the center, and green light flashes south along the length of Manhattan. Golden light flashes back from Grand Central Station, and the seal is done. There is only one more wellspring left to seal, in Hell's Kitchen, but with any luck they won't have to deal with that at all. Hopefully, the work being done to the south, in Central Park, will end the invasion of Manhattan entirely and let them move the battlefield to another plane. The resistance was ordered to fire upon seeing the angels, and not to let up until Jon gave the order to stand down. They need to hold as much as possible, as long as possible, to give Lydia and Phoebe and Meggan time to cast their spell.

    Jon's waiting for Michael when he arrives, already hovering in the sky on wings of gold and blue and teal. "Too late again!" he calls out, as he launches himself at Michael. He's expecting Lady Death to join them, so he's mostly looking to give her a good opening as he flies at Michael and swings his staff. If he can hold the angel's attention, catch his shield with the staff, maybe she can get in a good hit--though they don't want to end this /too/ quickly.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
With what she had long since called 'the aggressors' on the assault of the place once more, Sarah Rainmaker's eyes would widen at th esheer numbers. She would muse to herslf <<Well, so many of them that they might as well get in the way of one another>> Then she would be watching high, high at the swarm <<And the Archangel is mobilizing>> Calling out a warning along the comms at the positioning and trying to give an alert around. She's not bothering with some ofher fogs from earlier. Now was not the time for those. They had to fight and hold for as long as they could. Her hands going to raise up and flicker into the air as she would see the endless raging fires coming towarsd them <<I'll try and slow down the fires>>. And she would start to call upon the storm.
    The waters, surging forth from the Atlantic and the harbor. Heavy with salt. Calling forth the waters of the underground, spitting up from the sewers. Frozen ice from the sky as the clouds already mobbed in smoke and fire to blaze down. And what Sarah Rainmaker's intent was to simply blast as much of the oncoming fires wiht water, ice, hail, and gunk to hopefully slow it's onset as much as possible. She could at least hopefully try and save them from being asphyxiated in a wildfire from the mystically created inferno if she was able to brace herself to get enough power! Though the way the flames were magic would make this perhaps of questionabl eeffetiveness. Shrieks of winds and storms going to fight fire!

Megan Gwynn has posed:
Megan Gwynn hovers over the resistance fighters on the ground, taking up a position near to Rainmaker as she surveys the scene. Up until now she's mostly been in the background, helping with evacuation procedures. Now as she watches the army of invaders, she is initially frozen in fear, awe, wonder..Many things, but mostly anger.

And of course she can sense the power in that great ancient tree, something that is undeniably of great importance to the angels and most likely their focus tonight. She keeps an eye on the tree but hangs near Rainmaker, getting ready to redirect her magic wherever it's needed the most.

Asariel has posed:
Asariel's back on the field tonight. Probably because she wasn't a fighter, she was more researcher. She had relatives to kick in the dick though! The white haired woman is dressed in black tonight and about fifty feet off the ground with her wings outstretched, the silver white feathers twinkling a bit in the moonlight. ~You'd think that after a while they'd get the message that we aren't going anywhere." the woman states in her fathers tongue as she gives a look up to the incoming Archangels.

Her eyes start to glow, the same as they do when her nerves are shot and then she waits for the inevitable clash of force against force.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Standing near Jon and the tree, Cael watches with a small, quiet smile as the man casts the spell - vines growing, and twining, making the spell extremely visible - even to her, even in this dim light. Dim light that brightens as more and more angels gather in the sky.
    Cael takes to the air, a spear in her hands together instead of her axe - but the armor remains the same, bluish silver metal covering her chest, wrists, and shins, with contrasting dark, metallic wings flapping slowly behind her. She doesn't even glance towards Jon as he rises to join her, though she knows he's there - her expression remaining grim as she focuses on the forces arrayed in front of him. This fight doesn't have to happen at all - the Resistance's supposed purpose here is already accomplished, after all. But of course - this time they actually want the fight, that's what Michael doesn't know and hopefully won't know. Not until it's too late.
    As Jon heads towards Michael, she heads for Gabriel, using the spear as a staff, attempting to intercept the angel's sword.
    Keep him busy - keep him distracted, and don't actually kill him. That's the name of the game - otherwise Jon has to try to contain the explosion, and that just brings them closer to ending this battle. And they need to fight to continue for as long as possible...

Hope Svelgate has posed:
Ever changing battle formations have been a hallmark of the Army of the Dead and Damned's appearances so far, directed as they are by a commander forged upon the ruthless fields of Hell itself. Preferring to strike from surprise and cover rather than presenting easy targets like the angelic troops seem want to do, the undead and demonic forces of the Endless Graveyard are once again not immediately apparent until the enemy actually begins to approach.

But as they do, they are greeted by the more modern elements of Lady Death's army, an army which everything from skeletal Viking warriors to reanimated corpses from the battlefields of Iraq and Afghanistan armed with advanced modern weaponry and everything in between. From the tops of the buildings surrounding the park, those armed with long range weaponry open fire on the incoming angels. A hail of spectral machinegun bullets, rockets, spears, arrows, and all manner of other projectiles form a meatgrinder for the oncoming angels that they must pass through in order to reach the park and a killing field for those unfortunate enough to set foot on the ground.

The Commander herself is nowhere to be seen however, that is until out of the clouds that part a little too conveniently as if on cue descends a cadre of winged demons straight into the angel's flank. Lady Death herself appears from a portal that opens practically right on top of Gabriel, from which she drops wreathed from head to toe in Hellfire and clad in vicious looking spiky black gothic plate armor that still /somehow/ manages to be revealing. Dropping straight towards Gabriel from above, it would appear she intends to straddle the poor winged man's back and ride him like a bronco.

<<Oh Michael! I see you've made a friend! That's adorable! Don't worry, I'll fuck you up next!>>

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    "It matters not, Jonathan" Michael says with haughty superiority as he moves to meet Jon in the air. They collide with tremendous force, Jon's staff crashing against Michael's shield. "Once your grouping here is scattered I can tend to the matter of tearing down the defenses you've put in place. Impressive as they are, with enough force they will shatter and I will have the inevitable victory that is destined." He presses Jon back and swings the sword of blue flame at the Champion of Gaea. The heat of a star contained in the power of the sword, is palpable at this close proximity even if the blade doesn't make contact.

    Sarah's rain intercepts the tornadoes of flame and magical power meets genetic manipulation and they two war against each other, the rain not tearing the firenados down, but the firenados making no further approach as they crash against the precipitous storm powers of the Apache woman.

    Even as the Rainmaker presses against the Seraphim, a creature of physical perfection wearing leather and gold armor surges forth on wings of offwhite color: one of the Virtues. It reigns in int he midst of the storm and raises a hand high above it's head. In the midst of Sarah's storm sleet shards and ice come together as the angel wrenches the ambient chill from the air, creating a lance of ice that it hurls with impressive speed at Pixie, looking to impale her on the spike if she doesn't defend herself.

    Gabriel moves toward the silver-glowing form of Asariel, intent of taking his own aggression out against the Nephilim. "You wage war against us even as your blood sings a song in harmony with our own..." he says to the woman just as Cael slames into him, his sword bracing against her blow with the spear made of the General of the Host's blood forged by blasphemous rite. "You both wish to fight me, I'm rather honored." He grins and presses off against Cael, his almost willowy form hiding the true strength of the angel whose name literally means that very thing. Cael's fought a number of the Archangels up to now, but Gabriel's sheer might is greater than even that of the General of the Hosts and he pushes her away after checking her advance.

    Only to be beaten down by the unexpected weight of the Hell Lord on his back. Still he doesn't drop. "All three of you?" he says after a quick adjustment of his position. "So be it." His wings flare out, showing a mighty wingspan in their own right and a flash of divine light brusts from them engulfing the form of Lady Death in the light of heaven weaponized. A jerk of his hips and he is free of the Commander of the Forces of Hell, but he is rather surrounded. Still he looks rather unperturbed by the sudden trio confronting him.

    The Resistance forces rain fire of their own adding to the destruction of the Hell Forces of Lady Death. And yet the forces surge on, returning fire for fire on all sides. One of the Resistance fighters stands next to a bank of computers and hits a button. Speakers, set about the field start to produce a sound that only vaguely resembles speech. There is a cadence to the sounds though, as if they are reciting something... a poem. Even as the words are unintelligable to most on the field, the words spring forth in the mind's eye:

The sun was shining on the sea,
      Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
      The billows smooth and bright ?
And this was odd, because it was
      The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
      Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
      After the day was done ?
"It's very rude of him," she said,
      "To come and spoil the fun."

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    The effect is immediate on most of the angels, the remaing rank and file, a good thousand plus strong, stagger as the chaos laden words in their native tongue of complete order break laws of nature that no creature had even thought to break. Their brief sutterstep gives the forces of Hell and the Resistance militia a chance to cut them down like blades of grass.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    When Lady Death shows up and goes after Gabriel instead of Michael, Jon grunts in surprise but then chuckles. Never do what's expected; he should have known. "Inevitable?" He smirks at Michael. "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

    The staff is caught on the shield, and Jon uses the momentum to twist away from the sword strike. The sword catches his wing, and for a moment he tumbles in the air. But his wings aren't really a part of him, not yet--they are summoned forth by magic. So he closes his eyes, lets them disappear ever-so-briefly while he falls, then re-forms them and flares them out to catch him well before he hits the ground.

    As he rights himself to face Michael, he says, "Last time I gave you a chance to give up your excess power and help us fix things, but I'm done with that. Your lieutenant, Barachiel, almost killed my friend. He sealed her away any from kind of magical healing, and for what? Because he /could/. It's cruel. It's /wrong/. It's not what you're supposed to be. And I think on some level you know that."

    He points his staff at Michael, fires off bolts of energy that form into jagged crystals that come at the archangel like a citrine rain. "Where's Caitlin Fairchild?" he demands. "Did you punish her for interceding on Sara's behalf? For healing an enemy on the brink of death? Or did she finally see what you're really doing here, and turn away from you? You're losing everyone that agreed with this foolish crusade of yours. You're going to lose."

    Behind the rain of crystals, Jon charges at Michael again, aiming his staff not for the shield this time but for the bad wing, laughing as the Enochian translation of Lewis Carroll's poem begins. "Wonderland says hello!"

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
The angel goes to outmatch Sarah in the engagement of weather. She might be able to overpower it another time, but not now. Not when she is spread thin, having to use her power everywhere.. She can for at least a short time keep up the storm going to try and hold the wild fires at bay, but only so much since she has to defend herslf in the process. She's going to then try and launch up gusts of winds to try and deflect as much of the ice as she can heading towards Pixie! But it's not going to be nearly enough. She would go to yell over into the comms to Pixie <<Try and teleport behind him and then strike him from the flank>> It's the best idea she can give for the moment as she can just keep up an attempt at holding back the fires, throwing winds as best she could to stay evasive and moving to try and stay mobile! Speed was life. Leaving the Archangels to the Experts. She had a small little role in this fight.

Megan Gwynn has posed:
Megan Gwynn peers around, occasionally redirecting torrents of rain with her portals towards the flames where they're needed the most..But it seems another threat is apparent as one of the angels charges towards her with shards of rain and ice that form an impressive lance of ice at her.

Thankfully, she catches Sarah's warning a moment sooner, and she is prepared, bringing up her hands in a magical gesture. "Sihal Novarum Chinoth!" she yells, engulfing the giant lance of ice in a pink portal of magical energy, which pops out of a second portal behind said angel, attempting to impale it from behind instead!

Asariel has posed:
"You decided to wage war against /us/. This leave familial ties to burn to ash when you threaten my home and my loved ones." the woman states in a hiss. Asariel looks to Gabriel, "I wasn't looking to fight you, Uncle Gabriel." the woman states as she watches him. Then he's tackled by someone else, "And I'm not really into the cuddle pile stuff." she motions with an amused look after the Archangel. "You guys have fun." she waves to that.

There's a look around when she hears her own voice in the recording and she lets out a breath, "I was concerned for a moment." she whispers to herself as she moves to try to help contain the Strongest Archangel.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael lets out a quiet 'oof' as she is handily shoved backwards, flying through the air further than she'd anticipated before she can arrest her momentum. She shakes her head slightly - it's going to be like //that,// huh? Well. She likes a challenge - and she can feel the influence of the amulet she wears at her throat also reveling at the thought of a good fight. Twirling the spear, she starts back in towards the Archangel, this time attempting to catch the blade of the sword on the spear, and allow it to slide down the length of it and away, the force (hopefully) redirected without having to be directly countered, then she twirls the spear quickly, in an attempt to smack the shaft against the wrist of his blade-hand.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
Lady Death becomes engulfed in Holy Light as Gabriel twists away and ...is fine? The corpse skinned valkyrie sneers at him.

<<You really can't be as stupid as this! Did you really think I wouldn't adapt by now? Charging straight into heavily fortified positions, have you really trained for millennia just to be this incompetent at warfare?>>

The blades Apocalypse and Scynister are drawn from her either side of her waist. The latter glowing with the power of the Energy Arcane as it changes shape. <<You know, I was going to save this for Michael. But I like your style. Not shying away from three on one, not that I need any help!>> But she isn't going to going to turn them away either.

Scynister's shape becomes first the very familiar one of a rune-forged scythe, but then continues to change as she shaft of the scythe becomes a chain. In her other hand Apocalypse begins to glow bright orange and red as she begins to channel very less than safe amounts of Chaos Energy from the Ends of Infinity before Creation, not just into the blade but /through/ herself as the white pits of her eyes take on the black sheen of the void and the scythe-chain-weapon bursts with the energy of Entropy that is so anathema to those of Heaven.

With a snap of her wrist guided by the power of the Energy Arcane, the empowered weapon is whipped out towards Gabriel to wrap it's chain around him again and again until the scythe blade finds him on the final spin. And then the very Chaos energy is intensified as she pours yet more power into it.

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Michael goes on the defensive against the rain of crystals. "Barachiel's methodology in executing my commands is his own action. While I do not know what his personal irritation against the wielder of Atum's boon is, I do not disparage the removal of one of your mightiest forces from the field." The recital of "The Walrus and the Carpenter" in Enochian cause him to blink and pause for a moment and a lance of citrine energy shatters against his armor pushing him back a bit with a grunt. He rights himself and -just- manages to intercept the staff with his sword, deflecting the blow and twisting in place before knocking the Champion of Gaea in the back with his shield.

    As Sarah concetrates on holding the firenados at bay, they converge on one another, against the natural flow of wind and then arc toward the Rainmaker.

    The ice lance shatters agains the back of the Virtue, and if it hadn't been from the collection of another's power it wouldn't hurt him. This lance isn't of his own making though and the creatre is impaled on the ice the physics of Pixie's portal being enough to hyper accelerate it through space. It explodes in a flash of strobing light. Even as it dies another takes it place, a lance of lightning arcing toward the Pixie in electric current.

    Gabriel eyes his three opponents and smiles at them. "Training? I am but a humble trumpeter?" he says serenely, his form blurring. "The ways of battle are not mine to study." Even as he speaks he splits into three separate Gabriel's. One for each foe. Cael's strike in interceted but her turn on the blade does allow her to strike at his sword hand. The blade vanishes as his hand spasms open and he brings the horn to his lips before blasting her full in the face with a clarion call.

    To say the sound is tremendous would be an understatement. The force of the sound is a physical thing that hammers against Cael and were she not protected by the amulet's energy, permanant deafness would be almost certain. Even as it stands, her ears ring with the sound of the blow and another blade appears in his hand, identical to the one that vanished when he was stuck.

    Asriel is met by another of the copies, and he swings a blade at her. "That is your voice reciting such nonsense is it not?" he asks as he attacks her. "Lovely work, if absolutely insane. I commend the effort, it seems to have done the trick against our forces." It might be offputting for him to be having a simple conversation even as his strikes against her would certainly be near fatal if they manage to hit.

    The duplicate engaging Lady Death smiles still. The chain swings forth and wraps horn blower, horn, and sword in it's binding. As the links touch the barrel of the horn, Entropic forces war against the very make of the Presence made manifest and the very color around the pair greys out. "Fascinating... and entirely unexpected" the Archangel of Strength says as he looks about him. He strains against the chain, his expression fading from serenity to intense concentration as presses against the very thing that could undo him in his struggle to free himself. "You have me at a loss, Valkyrie of the Pit" he says serenely. "What is your plan now that you have me bound?"

    More of Carroll's LSD fueled dream comes out of the speakers and the angels are mowed down in their distraction, even so the greater tiers increase their retort against the forces of Hell and the Grave, and losses suffered on both sides are massive.

    Asthe battle continues, light flares from various locations on the island as a whole. Something else is happening. Michael's form flickers for a moment and he looks around, his expression startled. "You treacherous creature..." he snarls and a copy of him splits from his form, arcing south at tremendous speed. A gathering of light forms in the sky and follows after him in a contrail of more angelic forces to whatever goal he has in his mind.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Fine, whatever, you endorse cruelty. Like I said, where's Cait--"

    The swipe of Michael's shield sends Jon tumbling through the air again and he crashes into the upper branches of a cherry tree near the edge of the central lawn of the park. His barrier keeps the tree from impaling him, but thus breaks several of the branches. He pushes himself up off the tree and takes a moment to send some of Gaea's energy behind him, healing and re-growing the branches he broke. He's not here to damage living things, after all.

    Then Manhattan begins to light up and Michael splits himself. Jon laughs, eyes sparkling with triumph. "Lady Death is right," he says. "Some 'Great Warrior' you are. How /incompetent/ can you be? Didn't you bother to have /spies/ in our ranks? We've been working on this for /weeks/." He shakes his head. "Well, it's almost done now. Just have to keep your attention split a little while longer."

    And then, instead of charging Michael again, he grins and says, "Catch me if you can!" Then he darts away, flying toward one of the emplacements of Lady Death's army, to bring Michael well within range of their guns. He focuses the rest of his attention on fortifying his barrier, so any of the gunfire aimed at Michael won't hurt him too badly, if at all.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Caitlin is in fact not far away. The redhead is partially concealed under a heavy green mantle and hood. Entering the field of battle en masse had not been working quite as well for the Angelic forces; the Resistance seems all too ready to bring out clever surprises.

Which is fine. Caitlin's innovative mind has a few ideas of her own.

"I see the amplifiers," she says, lowering the thermal binoculars she's holding. She hands the binos off to one of the angels in her bodyguard, all of them cloaked and suppressing their natural glory as best they are able. Caitlin leans down and picks up a compound bow that's almost as tall as she is. Carbon-fibre arrows are mounted to the bow and in a hip quiver. The redhead draws the bow to full extension and waits patiently to make her marks. She seems to have little trouble holding the thing steady. She takes aim and looses the arrow. Two more follow suite, travelling with a frightening speed that is testament to the immense spring forces contained within the bow.

Penetrator-head arrows boom against the sound barrier and rip through a generator and one of the speaker sets. The third explodes into flames against a back wall, as magnesium salts are triggered on the shaft. A phalanx of angels plummet to Earth near the speaker equipment and start wrecking anything that is actively pushing a current.

"Seed-bearers, go!" she says, and turns to make a hand signal at more angels laying in wait. They skyrocket upwards and disappear into the clouds.

The redhead pulls another arrow from her quiver. It is sleek and expertly made, silvered and inlaid with sigils and script that invoke holiness, and castigate the wretched and the demonic alike. It's nocked and levelled and Caitlin watches intently for the fight with Gabriel and Lady Death. It would be a difficult shot for most archers, but... Caitlin is far from 'most', and using a weapon with as much power as a ballistae.

The silver arrow launches forth in a blur of motion and drives a path towards Lady Death when her focus is entirely on Gabriel.

"Archers!" she shouts, and makes a signal. The angelic reserve forces rise up from their concealment and start loosing their own sanctified ammunition at the demons and the undead with chillingly accurate precision.

Overhead, there is a crackle of lightning and a boom of thunder. The first raindrops start to fall. Surprising, but unremarkable-- until a demon screams in pain with a hissing black spot a centimeter wide on its skin. Another roars in agony as the rainfall starts pattering down, in a violent torrent that covers the battlefield in short order.

High in the sky, the angels finish spreading the consecrated silver iodide in the cloud layer, and discard their spreader tanks in order to fly down and rejoin the rest of the Host in combat.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
Sarah Rainmaker would yell through the comms, not fully aware of what hte full extent of the exchange is <<Monologue later!>> She would be struggling to keep the firestorms at bay. Not something she could outmuscle on her own so she would stop trying. She would then go to extend he rhand up and over through the air, making a polar vortex go to whoompsh about them, moving to take them over to fwmoomsh about her, intent on letting the fires of the raging inferno go to swallow her up as if to consume her!
    This would be difficult. Not a question of power, but of control. And Sarah is surrounded by heat and flame. She can resist heat, she is not immune to it. She has no water, no ice, no cool. But what she does have is..
    Vacuum. The firestorms going into her detonate the air molecules about her, heat flushing with the sudden void of consumption. Sarah Rainmaker has no ability to hold in air molecules, but the sudden lashing of the winds about her with the heat and the raging inferno is used to in essence.. SLINGSHOT her up and out, bathed in flame all about her, a trail of smoke over her as she's trying desperately to blast off the worst of the secon dand third degree burns that she's going to get!
    Then she sees someone in the distance. Big.. Brawny.. Red.. And it's all she can do is launch herself at high speed towards Caitlin. Her winds can ordinarily onl push her to around two hundred and fifty miles an hour. In desperation, when fueled over by the explosion of superheat rolling off her body, at seeing her friend leading an attack.. And so the Apache Gen-Active girl is launching herslf through the air like a great bottle rocket, hundreds of meters away, approaching with body smoking and sizzling, flesh burning off in chunks and yelling loudly at her friend. Very, very visible in her yells. "CAITLIN! PLEASE! STOP!" Desperate winds lashing her along to try and take her hard in that direction. Of course, even iwth her speed it would take -very- long to get there. In the sense of time, perhaps not so long. In the sense of battle..
    An eternity.

Asariel has posed:
Asariel decides that coming out big guns blazing, "We're all a little mad around here, Uncle." she tells Gabriel as she tries to dodge the swing of the sword as it cuts her open. Blood leaks from the wound, hitting the ground below her. She then looks up to him with a wince of pain, "Ow." she grits out.

"I'm not making you any of moms banana pudding for the family union." she grunts out as she calls down the flames of heaven to roast him. Hey, it might not work, but she was going to give it a shot!

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Have fuuuuuun, Mikey!" Cael calls after the Archangel, as he races towards Central Park. Her gloating is short lived, however, as the angel in front of her blasts his horn, knocking her back, and sending a ringing in her ears, even through the noise-supression comms she wears in both hears. Hooooly shit.
    And to top it all off - a sword just //reappears// in his hand. "Cheater!" she declares, though with more amusement than actual venom. As the onslaught of angelic forces is reinforced by Caitlin's ingenuity, Cael continues her battle with Gabriel - still focused on deflecting and redirecting each of his blows, rather than attempting to meet them head on - using whatever openings she can create to swat at him with the shaft of the spear, again and again.
    Of course, Gabriel isn't exactly inept with his blade, and she ends up hissing in pain as she fails to fully redirect a blow, and the sword bites into her shoulder, causing her to favor her left arm.
    //Great//.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
Lady Death throws back her head and laughs for a moment, grinning like maniac at him as he asks what she intends to with him. <<Oh, I'm going to have my way with you.>> The black eyes like the Void make the grin seem even more malevolent than it might normally. She was about to say something else, when Caitlin looses that arrow at her. Her attention was very much fully on Gabriel and yet it would seem her senses are very much on a level far higher than a mortal's as she snaps the chain to drag Gabriel in the path of the shot like a living shield.

<<Did you run out of friends to betray Fair Child?! Don't worry, I think Gabriel is lonely and would love to keep you company!>>

Moving tightly behind Gabriel, Lady Death leans in close to whisper into his ear. <<All men are good for is a good bang.>> And with that she stabs him from behind, letting the Entropic Energies spread within his form. Raising a black metal booted foot, she kicks the Archangel square in the back, making sure the spiked heel sinks in, while pulling chain taunt with the clear goal of sending his corrupted highly explosive angel bits hurtling straight at Caitlin Fairchild.

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Michael snarls in anger and flies after Jon. "Your arrogance will be your undoing, Jonathan" he calls after his quarry. As he come closer to the undead army they turn their guns and fire upon the General of the Hosts. The bullets of the forces of the Grave are not particularly effective, feeling like little more than bee stings to the oldest of the Archangels, even so Africanized bees kill at least one or two people per year on average. And the swarm of bullets on him is just that, a swarm.

    He is brought up short and the shield in his hand expands to give him sufficient cover. Even as it grows it starts to pulse and glow with silver light. Flickering at first until it goes solid with the color and a beam directly pulled from the Source barrels down on the forces of the Grave, tearing a swath in their numbers. They would return to the grave that birthed them, but it would take them some time to do so and this for this battle, that is enough for him.

    The speakers explode in corruscation of sparks as Caitlin's arrows and orders from above do the trick. The screech in feedback before going silent. Even so the number of the Hosts has been essentially decimated by the effects of the Chaos logic in Ordered voice.

    Even as Sarah is consumed by the angelic flame, her vaccuum theory proves rather effective and the larger firenado burns itself out after serving her well done to the Champion of the Hosts. The Seraphim split their attention. Three turn to follow after the blazing comet that was the Rainmaker and the other four turn to the forces of the Resistance. Balls of holy flame form in their hands before spreading out and hammering at the barricades and Gozer engines, destroying a number of both in their assault.

    The lightning arc swipes along and as Pixie opens another portal to intercept it it cuts sharply, arcing around and flashing over the young fairy-mutant. The bolt is strong, and her form lights up almost comically: her skeletal structure on display for barest of instants before she drops from the sky in a smoking heap. She lands behind one of the barricades, her breath shallow but steady. She'd live.

    The blast of holy fire, shaped by the intent of one meant to harm the angels is enough to blast the form of Gabriel back several feet. He stares at her for a moemnt. Not in harmony..." he says, confusion turning to understanding on his features. "In tandem. Your father was rather clever, wasn't he? Child of Heaven." He lunges for her and instead of slicing at her he moves to kick her, going for blunt force trauma and not bloody destruction.

    Gabriel smiles at Cael, his sword flickering in and out over and over as she strikes at his hand. When he scores his hit he stops and smiles. "Instead of goading the General, you should focus on me, Warrior Maid of Skye." He also goes in for a feinting blow only to kick out at the spear wielding warrior.

    Caitlin's final arrow pierces the angel's armor but doesn't seem to hurt him too much. Lady Death's sword, on the other hand, is fatally effective and the image of the archangel slumps as it is impaled on the massive blade. "I... see..." he says as he starts to glow with the death throes. As he is flung toward Caitlin, his form changes. It's apparent that the facimile is not the massive nuclear explosion that the Archangels shift to as he dies. Even so, the black-ringed white and gold fireball that sails toward the Champion of the Hosts threatens to cause massive trauma to any of the forces of Heaven caught in its blast radius.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Just following your example, Saint Michael!" Jon calls, taunting the archangel as he leads him along the ranks of Lady Death's army, making sure they get a /good/ shot at the Commander of the Host.

    But then the skies open, and holy water pours out. Well, /shit/. It makes him laugh, though, as he looks up into rain that, to him, seems like normal rain. Mortals--and former mortals--are the only ones around who are actually /any/ good at this, it seems.

    <<Rainmaker!!>> he calls into the comms. <<Leave off and help me get rid of this storm! I'll supply the wind, you direct it! We can push it out over the Hudson toward Englewood!>> He banks, hard, spins his staff, and sends a bolt of energy straight for Michael's bad wing to keep him off-balance.

    Then he pulls on every ounce of power Gaea has supplied him with, preparing to summon a /huge/ gust of wind meant to push the storm Caitlin just seeded off to the west. It's only then that he notices that Sarah's become a bottle rocket speeding toward Caitlin, and his eyes widen. Because he /also/ sees Gabriel's form, wreathed in entropy, heading straight at Caitlin.

    Without even thinking about the potential consequences, he dismisses all thoughts of wind and dives toward Caitlin. Instead of wind, he summons up a barrier around the bits of Gabriel--not a full barrier, to hold it in, but to re-shape the blast away from Caitlin and toward the nearest large group of angels. He can't *technically* use entropy himself anymore, but he said nothing about re-directing what others are doing.

    The woven green barrier of Gaea's power cannot hold everything in, however. Entropy is a natural enemy of life as well as angels, and only part of the blast gets redirected--enough to destroy two of the Seraphim fire-tornadoes. The barrier gets shredded, though, and there's still a good chunk coming for Caitlin.

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
A conflagration wreathes Caitlin's perch in fire and blackness. It's a bizarre tableu, the burning divine rage of the Seraphim, being eaten in great swathes by the remnants of the voidmatter hurled from Gabriel's spiritual echo.

Their interaction is a bomblike detonation that flings smoke and shadow and detritus up and around, in a radius dozens of metres wide. It's into this morass that Jon plunges.

A moment later, a figure vaults from the building as it collapses into itself, wreathed in flames. Caitlin discards her cloak and with it the fire. The redhead is simply too redoubtable to be seriously bothered by mere heat, even divine fire. The hardest part is suppressing the pain reflex. But this is a skill she's spent most of a decade developing. The pain from fire is largely psychological for the nigh-invulnerable redhead.

She lands heavily on another roof and turns in place. A nimbus of crackling yellow light flashes once and vanishes; Jon had harmed the redhead quite badly with that entropic force before, and she had resolved to not be caught flat footed by it again.

And speaking of Jon-- he is firmly in Caitlin's clutches, arms pinned by a burly forearm that holds them straight up above his head.

Caitlin is also well-trained enough to not leave his hands free to conjure something or reach for a hidden weapon. "This is gonna hurt," she advises him, and simply squeezes his elbows towards each other in a way that human joints are NOT meant to go. The result is a pair of wet *pops* as his shoulders are both effortlessly dislocated from one another.

"STAND DOWN OR I PULL HIS ARMS OFF!" Caitlin bellows, with that explosion of voice that carries for blocks in every direction. "EVERYONE STAND DOWN, OR LOSE SIMS!" Her hand clamps around Jon's mouth to prevent him from issuing any counter-orders that might smack of noble self-sacrifice or strategic advice.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
There's a moment of distraction in Rainmaker's headspace. She has little control over things now over as she would be flung. The winds smashing about her to try and burn off the worst of the flames. <<No.>> That is all she says, even as she would be covered over in smoke, pain, and sizzling, bits of her body burnt almost down tot he bone. Not even bothering on cooling hereslf off as she would go to redirect herself as best she could on the ground towards Caitlin. Her landing is going to be bad, it's going to be messy, and she might not survive it. But for now she's not paying attention tot he raging storms. Not to the power that is being offered. Not to the safety or aid of the others. Now for the worst there is a single minded focus on what her intent has been since she ame here to New York and was hit with her sense of terror. She's going to land like a stone, speaking to herself as she would hit and roll hard.
    And then she's going to force herself upright as she sees where Caitlin is. And she's going to painfully move to boost herself with her winds, going up and into the air slowly, painfully, steam sizzling off of her.
    "Caitlin, please." She's tired. She's exhausted. She's in pain. And all she cares about is her friend. She's making no aggressive moves, just going to hover up and into the air.

Asariel has posed:
Asariel's agitation is apparent when Gabriel mentions her father, "I've not met him so I don't know what he is!" she shouts at him as she tries to hit him again, but anger clouds where the hit is going...that and Gabriel's a highly trained operative for heaven and that kick HURTS!

It sends her downwards, scrabbling to catch onto something in the air, but that's not happening.

She hits the ground with a loud crack as opposed to a thud. That's weird for sure.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Yeah, but- mocking Mikey is one of my few pleasures these days," Cael counters brightly.
    A lot of things are happening at once, and she's only dimly aware of most of them as her battle continues with Gabriel - but as luck would have it, she gets kicked clear of her fight with Gabriel, spitting out a little blood from what she hopes was simply biting her cheek or tongue, in time to see Jon try to help Caitlin - and Caitlin's retort.
    Fuck. What a mess. But Caitlin won't kill Jon. ...right?
    "We only stand down if the angels stand down as well! And Michael won't allow it!" She roars back.
    That leaves Cael with only one real choice that she can see - using her wings to propel her with as much force as she can muster, she flies directly for the General of Heaven's forces, intent on driving him up and into the sky - on the point of her spear.
    They were supposed to make this fight last, but- if Jon's in trouble...

Hope Svelgate has posed:
In the air above, cadres of winged demons shriek and howl as it rains Holy Water. The undead soldiers soldier on however, seemingly not so tied to Hell. At first smoke rises off of Lady Death as well and she grimaces, though that smoke fades as she becomes wreathed in what seems to her own aura of holy energy, how that is even possible is anyone's guess.

At the sight of the events unfolding below, first Jon interfering with her attack and then Caitlin having the audacity to survive, Lady Death's expression contorts into one of pure menace.

She drops out of the sky to land on the same roof, the structure nearly buckling under the impact. In one hand is Apocalypse, wreathed in Energy Arcane, Entropic Chaos, and Hellfire. In her other hand, that vicious Asgardian rune-forged chain scythe, similarly glowing with tremendous mystic might.

<<Go head. What are you waiting for? Would you like me to help?>> She sneers at Caitlin. <<There is a special place in Hell for Traitors. You've had your chances. If you would see everything remade as Michael decrees like the ultimate abusers who simply seeks to CONTROL all who would not worship him and force them to his will, to lick his feet, then you are the enemy and I will cut you down and Sims as well if he gets in my way.>>

It is an almost paradoxical sight, the woman glowing with both Hellfire and a Holy aura. <<Everything can die Fair Child. You are no exception. Surrender or be cut down with your foolish defender like the Traitor to all that lives and dies that you are!>>

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Michael was planning on following Jon but then his Champion has the man in her grasp. He pulls up short and crosses the intervening space in a blink, to re-emerge behind Caitlin. "Well done, Caitlin" he says before he eyes Lady Death. "You could've have had everything you wanted if you only accepted my hand when I offered it before" he says before he turns and drives a fist into the back of Caitlin's head with as much force as he can manage--which is a very considerable amount when coming from the second most powerful being, ever.

    The thundercrack that comes from the blow is enormous and the building shudders on its foundations. As he draws his fist back to his side, golden and silver energy is pulled -out- of Caitlin. "Your services..." he says to the young, pious woman, his tone somber, "are no longer required. I release you from your position as Champion of the Hosts."

    Before he can do more, Cael plunges the spear made of his own blood forged in the flames of Nullspace into his torso and up into the sky. He spits out a gout of boiling blood at her before he smiles. "And again you kill me," he says as they travel higher and higher into the sky. His form starts to break apart, the warning of his own devestating explosion. "Planning on ending your life in sacrifice as well, Cael?" he asks, as a beam of light pours out of his face as the upper half of his skull splits and falls away.

    As Gabriel's blow on Asariel connects, the two remaining images of him merge. He looks down at the place where the angelic woman fell and he sighs, "You should see to that soon. It would be terribly unfortunate to find yourself pressed into service with no knowledge of the why if my brother manages his plan." There is a flicker in his form and he seems content to watch Michael rise into the sky, the sword winking out leaving him only holding his trumpet. "And yet... I feel there is more to this death than even you understand, my brother" he mutters softly as he turns and watches more lights flare in the distance. "Hmm... it might be time to depart and prepare for the next field." He turns his attention to the battle below. "But not until this is over."

    The angelic forces, continue to struggle urged by the will of Gabriel, even as Michael's form begins to die. While their tactics may be slow to evolve, they -can- do so and the command of the Hosts on the field in this situation would fall to Gabriel if both Michael and Caitlin were taken from the field. His orders ensured his presence until something significant occured. The two seraphs Jon killed, do truly die in pillars of flame even as the remaining two continue to fight and struggle against the Resistance. The lesser forces are all but wiped out between the Resistance and the forces of the Dead.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon's scream of pain is swiftly covered by Caitlin's hand, and so he just whimpers, closing his eyes to let tears fall. Because, /fuck/, that /hurts/.

    And yet somehow, whatever Michael's going to do to him soon will be /worse/.

    Caitlin didn't reckon with one thing, however--Jon's a telepath. He doesn't bother pointing out that Lady Death gives zero shits about him, nor that Gaea is going to ensure he lives unless this is the moment he's supposed to die. (Not keeping him from horrific pain, though, evidently.) Instead, he hurls his thought at the others on the battlefield: <KEEP THEM BUSY! NOTHING ELSE MATTERS IF THE SEAL DOESN'T GO OFF!!> There's a trickle, through his mental voice, of intense pain, and terror, but also a kind of grim determination. Assuming anyone hears.

    He blinks his eyes open in time to see Cael impale Michael on the spear, and chokes back a sob. She's beautiful to his Sight, blazing like a comet. He focuses all his concentration on summoning a woven green shield around Michael to contain his blast and then slumps in Caitlin's grasp.

    His dark gaze turns dully to stare at Lady Death. <We're supposed to work together,> he sends out the thought to both Lady Death and Caitlin. <We can save the universe, if you two would stop fighting and work with me. Please. I know what to do, just... /please/.> There's desperation in his mental tone, that he cannot hide. <We can fix things. Together.>

Caitlin Fairchild has posed:
Sarah's scream gets Caitlin's attention. Consternation and regret washes over her features. It's enough to make her hesitate. To distract from what follows.

If Michael had punched her physically, Caitlin would be dead. A cheap shot, a rabbit punch to the back of the head can cause irreversible brain damage.

But what Michael does to her is nearly as bad. Caitlin stiffens and drops Jon unceremoniously. A scream breaks from her mouth and rises in volume until her pained shriek can be heard as far away as New Jersey.

There are no words. Just a scream into the skies of someone being betrayed, wounded, and discarded all at once.

The energies that suffused her are gone. The armor turns dull and listless, then disintegrates into fine powder. The holy light is pulled from her skin, her green eyes go dull, and that intense presence that follows her around like a personal gravity field just... evaporates.

Caitlin pitches forward like a ragdoll when released. There is a great crack in the roof, the building itself on the verge of collapse. The redhead disappears into the fire and smoke billowing up from below and disappears from sight.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
And then there's the brutal HIT given over to Fairchild as Sarah Rainmaker is surging up to her feet over. She's going to run forwards through the air even as Michael is being hit from other sides. She's going tos lam her hands up and over into the air, leaping over to put herself between Fairchild, between Jon.. In front of Michael, ehr hands going to unleash the best windstorm that she could muster in her state of being. She's going to hold her hands up, starting to channel as much ice as she could over onto the form of Michael, seemingly well on the way of detonating. Hands going to snap up and put all of her power to making a shield. Wind. Ice. Frost. Trying to put as much of a barrier amongst the others. Friend. Teammate. Comrade. She could do little now. Just try and take as much of the force a spossible.
    "Leave my friends alone!" There is something so raw in her form even as she's trying to put up as much raw power into it as she can. "Caitlin, please. Get out of here." Even as Fairchild is vanishing into the darkness and the building is seemingly on it's death throes.. Even as Michael is on the same. The end is inevitable here even as everything seems ready to collapse. Even as Sarah Rainmaker goes to brace for another explosion of the archangel.. This one that she's not expecting to survive. Her last impulses are more going through the motions on autopilot. Windshield. Ice. Hail. Rain. Fury. And she can only in those passing moments whisper one final thing in Apache to herself that she's not even sure she's saying in those last few eyeblinks of what she expects existence to be. "Flee you fools. Flee."

Megan Gwynn has posed:
Megan Gwynn has been out of it for a few rounds, caught up in the chaos below as she slowly climbs to her feet and surveys the scene. And even with Michael down for the count, it seems the only real way to end this battle is to remove Gabriel from the battlefield. She narrows her eyes, gritting her teeth as she climbs slowly to her feet. "Right then..Guess I'll have to cut off the head if we have any hope of ending this."

She winces a bit as more allies fall around her, climbing to her full height and summoning her soul dagger, a glowing pink magical weapon every bit as deadly towards supernatural beings as Illyana's famed soul sword. "Sihal Novarum Chinoth!" she yells above the din of battle, attempting to bring her as close to Gabriel as possible..

And once she reappears behind him, she lunges forward quickly, attempting to stab him in the back of the neck with her magical blade..Which May just be suicide..But she's got to try..Right?

Cael Becker has posed:
    "That's not my first plan. Jon still needs me if we're going to save the universe //you// can't seem to properly make," Cael says in a dry tone. "We know what to do, Mikey. Just //let// us. Let us fix things." She continues to fly up - ignoring the scream from Caitlin below her. Ignoring the pain she can hear in Jon's projected voice. There's relief on her features as the green shield appears around Michael, and she pulls the spear free, turning her back on Michael. "Enjoy exploding, ass licker." She plummets back towards the roof where Jon, Lady Death and- where the fuck is Fairchild now, she can't help but wonder as her wings flare out, pulling her up short to quickly decelarate and land beside and a half-step behind Jon, staring down Lady Death.
    See, Jon? This is how you land.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
Lady Death stands there seething. Gone is the holy aura as she simply lets the rain sizzle against her skin. The darkness radiating from her is nigh palpable and drifting off of her body in whisps of entropic blackness as the darkness wells up within her at what she is witnessing, it is all she can do to not be consumed by it and yet Energy Arcane burns out from the black pits her eyes have become as she spits towards Caitlin. <<Traitors reap what they sow.>> Her voice isn't gloating, there is no satisfaction there, it is more a pronouncement that she had this coming and very much deserved it.

Those fierce frightening eyes flash skyward at Michael in his death throws. <<Yes, I remember your offer Angel of Shit. You wanted to make me the same as everyone who ever wronged and betrayed me, you would see me turn into the abuser! And I reject you, I reject all like you. None shall predetermine and dictate my fate or that of any other. I will burn Creation to ashes before I see it remade by YOUR hand. Know this, none are truly beyond Death and I /will/ END you and any who continue to stand with you!>> Her eyes flash towards Gabriel and Caitlin as she says the last part. <<Mortals betray and betray, they abuse each other and condemn each other. But now it is clear that you are the source of all that and I am going to destroy that source, so that maybe, just maybe there might be some hope for humanity yet.>>

Her eyes then flash towards Jon. <<Everyone makes their choices. If you get in my way again, I will consider you having made yours.>> For what it's worth though, she doesn't seem to be intent on killing either of them anymore.

As the angels continue their assault though, she points both of her weapons skyward, channeling all of her frustration, anger, and rage through them, screaming towards the Heavens.

<<Harmageddon Regnar Fram!>>

And from the clouds it begins to rain literal Hellfire upon the Angelic Forces around Gabriel ...and anyone nearby.

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Michael explodes, not with a cacophonous wave of destruction but with a puff of light within the barrier of Gaea's energy. The barrier collapsing in on itself as his form dissappears from view, a shimmer a light all that remains of his usually devestating explosion.

    The soul dagger of Pixie connects with Gabriel's skin... and stops as if hitting an impenatrable barrier. The Archangel turns and regards the young woman. "A soul dagger..." he says regarding the glowing shard serenly. "Unfortunately, those can only hurt us if they touch our essence directly. This," he says, holding up a hand, "effectively protects us." He turns to regard Lady Death in alarm and suddenly embraces Pixie, his wings wrapping around the both of them in a shielding ball of feathers and light. The Hellfire rains down on him, and feathers burn away balls of flame strike him, even so his shield holds.

    The angelic forces die under the newly renewed onslaught but after a moment of the flames raining down, they vanish in a pulse of light and smoke, the only casualties of the battle left, are the cobblestone paths and the greenery covered in snow.

    Silence reigns for a time, as an eleventh point of light surges to the south and something -happens- over the island. Something significant. Something of great import.

    Michael reappears, but he is ghostly in his image. A perfect as ever, but not wholly there. Even as a ball of hellfire falls onto and through him, the flames not touching him. He moves through the air, not heeding any of the destruction that passes over him and appears (still ghostly) near to Jon, Cael, and Lady Death, his expression is sad. "A risky gambit... and one that I am sorry to see you play. You truly have no idea what you've done... do you?" he asks morosely regarding the trio. He eyes the remnants of Caitlin's fall into the fire with solemnity as well.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon yelps as he's let go, tumbling to the roof like just as much of a discarded ragdoll as Caitlin. Unlike her, however, he still needs to fight. His arms won't work, and something screams in his head that he needs to fix that before they heal wrong and they have to be re-set. He needs to find a medic. He needs to get up.

    "Caitlin!" he shouts, weakly. "Cait... lin..." But she's gone. He's in too much pain to try to find her in the wreckage. He's going to have to get hold of Troia, if he can.

    He blinks up at Cael and Lady Death, blearily. He stares at the Hell Lord for a long moment and then closes his eyes. Why is he trying so hard? Why is he /trying/ so /hard/ to befriend people who just hurt him, threaten him, even when he tries to /help/ them? Why had Isis said the three of them have to work together? How is that /possibly/ going to happen, when he can't seem to figure out how to communicate with either one?

    Why is he trying so /hard/?

    He opens his eyes again and looks up at Cael. Oh, right. That's why.

    "Roof's about to cave in, Becker," he says. His tone is dull, frustrated. "Help me up, please. Enough to get my wings out." Once she's helped him sit up far enough, he summons his wings and uses them to lift himself up off the roof.

    It's in time to see Michael sealed away and he smiles, though it's tired and pained. "What we had to do," he says, wearily. "Whatever the consequences, we'll handle them. I cannot let you reset the universe. I cannot let you destroy those I love." He glances to Cael, then back to Michael. "Whatever the price for that? I'll pay it."

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
And then Michael is gone. Is it over, finished? No, it never ends. Sarah Rainmaker isn't bothering to look over her shoulder as she's just looking at the others flatly. "Get off here, it's about to collapse. Good fight." She's dulled. Tired. FEeling like something in her as broken. Looking over to the horizon for just a half secon dover in confusion and trying to parse something. But it doesn't matter. All that matters is that..
    Her hand is going to lift up, the air raising as she would move to press up a cold draft, tryign to clear it of smoke and dust. To give just a little more of a view.
    Jon will be held up by Cael. SHe's lost track of Pixie in the fires. Lady Death shall be something that will terrorize her nightmares for the rest of her days, up there with the things that she had gone through. The others are.. Alive.
    That means she's diving down into the wreckage, "Cait! CAIT!" She's going to use her powers to lift up dust into the air to clear it to try and get an idea. Going to focus to try and use her powers to get -some- idea of where her firend might be buried. Despite portions of her flesh melted into it. Looking up over her shoulder to make sure that none of the others were about to collapse..

Megan Gwynn has posed:
Megan Gwynn's eyes widen in shock and horror as her soul dagger fails..For the first time. What the heck is their skin made of, anyway?! But she has no time to think of that as someone else summons a deadly hellfire to rain down on the angels..And herself by proxy. Her first instinct would be to bring up the magical nullifying soul dagger to shield her from the rain of burning flames..

What she is nit prepared for is the sudden wrapping of angel wings around her, ironically protecting her from those same destructive flames that seek to destroy them both. And at this point she is thoroughly confused a# to why on earth the 'evil' angel just chose to 'save' her.

When the last of the rain falls and fades she just stares at Gabriel in surprise, tears falling from her eyes. "Why..?! " she says simply.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael helps Jon back up - being as gentle as she can under the circumstances. With the building threatening to go - expediency is more important than anything else. "Rainmaker! Rainmaker, the building's gonna go! Fairchild has a better chance of surviving that than we do - //get clear//!" she calls commandingly - while making sure Jon gets airborne and //stays// airborne.
    Her gaze goes to Lady Death as she adds, "Sims believes he has this figured out - that if we all work together we can fix what's wrong with reality, and everything will be saved, and the angels will go. But we need to work //together// - not against one another. Please work with us and hear Sims out - because there's no fucking way I'm letting anyone destroy this reality. //My stuff is here.//"
    Yes, she just reduced Jon and Sara and everyone else she cares about to 'stuff.' But what else do you expect from Cael? Emotional vulnerability in the middle of a battle?
    Fuck that.

Hope Svelgate has posed:
Lady Death simply floats as the building crumbles beneath her, it is of no concern to her at the moment. Standing on the edge of the precipice internally, she fights back the Darkness that threatens to consume her. Has she tapped too much? Pushed too far? She can hear the whispers in the back of her mind, how easy it would be to just use Michael to unmake everything, end him and her pain with the rest of reality.

Her eyes flicker, and the white begins to return, replacing those Void-like depths. She dodged the Russian Roulette bullet, this time.

Turning, Lady Death stares daggers at Michael's translucent form. <<What I've done? Oh, I've only just begun. What they did?>> She actually seems impressed. <<It's a neat trick. Don't think you've escaped my wrath though.>>

Her eyes turn towards Cael, but the Hell Lord doesn't answer. Instead, she does something seemingly out of character for her, at least the character that most people are familiar with. She drops into the burning collapsing building. Moments later, the unconscious form of Caitlin Fairchild is thrown clear into an open patch of grass as Lady Death steps out, silhouetted against the blaze, weapons once again sheathed at her sides.

The building continues to crumble in upon itself behind her as Lady Death stands over the fallen woman she once seemed very intent on killing. Reaching out one of her hands, it begins to glow with the power of Energy Arcane, shot through with veins of Holy Energy as Lady Death invokes one of her least used powers, one which many may not have even realized she possessed for all of her focus on harm and killing, and begins mystically Healing Caitlin's injuries.

<<You wanted to believe so hard and were betrayed for it. That was me, once upon a time. An innocent girl left to burn at the stake by the likes of THEM. This is your one and only chance to change course. Use it wisely.>>

And with that she turns and walks away, towards where the Armies of the Dead and Damned have already begun to pull back towards Hell's Kitchen.

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    The Resistance forces are already moving to get free of the field, collecting those who are injured and the two who look to be dead. One of the casualties is a young man, he can't even be eighteen. The dark skin of his face is marred with heavy burns over the left side of it. One of the militia shakes his head sadly as they carry him off into a portal. "Amit. Damn kid shouldn't have even been on the field. How...?" They pass through into Grand Central Station.

    The other is the prone form of Asariel, her chest is still as she lays on the cracked wall of marble at the base of the Ginko.As the Resistance forces move to collect her body, there is a pulse of silver light and then--the artist is no more.

    Michael watches all this unfold around him with a sad expression. "The price you ask for is higher than you can even guess, Jonathan" he says to the man, "You should go... before--" he stops as three bursts of light pulse nearby in the air. One is an intense white, another is a soft golden color, and the final is pink and trails flower petals beneath it. Three more Archangels appear from the bursts of light: The Metatron, Uriel, and Raphael.

    Gabriel smiles serenely at Pixie. "Because I believe in faeries" he replies cryptically before pulsing in a flash of blue light to appear next to the other three. The Metatron regards Raphael, Uriel, and Gabriel. When it speaks the words come -from- it despite its mouth not moving. "Suggestion of protocol?" it asks. Gabriel shakes his head. "We prepare the next field of battle. You know as well as we that was the suggested outcome should this plan fail. What else does Michael being locked from the physical world mean?" he asks the alabaster skinned monolith that is the Metatron. Raphael and Uriel nod in agreement. The latter adds, "While the battles here are over, there is one more Wellspring that can be tapped regardless of material location. And while more difficult, the astral is as good a ground for combat as any. Let us retreat to the same plane as our General."

    The Metatron turns to Michael, who begins to sound as if he is pleading. "Do not do this. This is not -your- Purpose. You are not part of the compact." Uriel seems suddenly alarmed as he looks to Metatron. "What is he asking?" he says hurriedly.

    The Metatron ignores this and rises higher into the sky. This time when it speaks his mouth -does- move and its voice carries across all of the island. "I MUST THANK YOU, HEROES. WITH OUR GENERAL OUT OF THE WAY, WE CAN BEGIN A PROPER CAMPAIGN WITHOUT THE HANDICAPS HE PUT IN PLACE."

    Legions of angels appear behind and above it. Too many to count. Too many to affect. Too many for even the legions of the Endless Graveyard to combat. The angels blot out the night sky, a luminous field of light that goes on and on and on up into the sky above the Earth. "I AM HOWEVER NOT WITHOUT PITY. YOU HAVE 24 HOURS. AFTER THAT POINT, WE WILL BEGIN TO ERASE THIS FARCE OF A RESISTANCE AND FROM THERE WE WILL CONTINUE ON OUT INTO THE WORLD."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon's eyes widen as Lady Death goes into the building, pulls Caitlin out, and then... heals her. Gives her another chance. Hope starts to blossom in his chest. Maybe they can make this work after all.

    Then his eyes fall on the forms of the dead, out on the battlefield. Something drops in his gut, heavy like a stone. Guilt, remorse. Nobody else was supposed to die, least of all a /kid/ like Amit.

    He hears the archangels conferring, and Metatron's statement, as a kind of dull roar in the background of his thoughts. Ah. /That's/ what Michael meant by 'what you've done.' Well, good thing he already had a plan in place for a similar situation.

    He glances at Cael. "Well, time to go to St. Patrick's, I suppose. Couldn't put it off forever." His tone is resigned. "At least the Metatron taking over gives me a starting point for negotiations. There's no way Michael's pride will let his lieutenant take the glory of the win." He sighs. "First, though... I'm going to need working arms."

    He takes a moment to close his eyes and think about the anatomy of his shoulders. The way that ligaments and muscle and bone work together to make a miracle of nature: a rotating joint that allows for a wide range of movement and impressive force in throwing and rowing and lifting. He focuses on pulling the ligaments back into place, screaming in pain as he forces his arms back into their sockets. Oh, that hurts, that /hurts/, but soft green light around his shoulders gets the healing moving faster than it normally would.

    He gasps for a moment, then calls into the comm, sending it on a frequency to also reach those in Central Park: <<All forces, fall back. Clear out Grand Central and evacuate Manhattan immediately. No exceptions. I have a plan; if the angels are not gone by Sunday morning, contact Troia and tell her to pull the trigger on her last-ditch resort.>>

    He doesn't know precisely what it is that the Amazon was suggesting when she said she had a "mututally assured destruction" option to stop the angels, but if he can't talk Michael into taking command back from the Metatron and leaving Manhattan... she might just need to pull it out.

    Hopefully not, though. Hopefully, his plan will be enough to get Michael to leave. Even if it means he's going to hand himself over for torture. But that was happening eventually regardless.

Sarah Rainmaker has posed:
Sarah Rainmaker would exhaustedly watch. Glancing over at Pixie. At Jon. At Cael. At Lady Death. Giving a slow wave of a hand in acknowledgement. Looking so tired. Going to go up with another twist of her winds about her. At the commands of 'fall back' she would click her tongue on the comm in acknowledgement. But Caitlin.. Caitlin is alive. And now is not the time. She takes a breath. And then looking about with tears in her eyes she would whisper something to herself, unheard, lips forming words in Apache.. Then she would go to hold her hands up in a mist about herself to cloak herself in fog, and fly off. Away from the rest.

Megan Gwynn has posed:
Megan Gwynn blinks slowly at Gabriel, utterly confused by this turn of events. "Wait, what? What do you..?" and just like that he's gone, joining yet more angels, leaving her weakened, defeated as she looks over the fallen and shakes her head, slowly descending to the ground to join her allies. But the usually chipper Pixie is at a loss for words as she peers up at the sky, filled with yet more angels.

Cael Becker has posed:
    There's a faint smile that appears on Cael's features as Lady Death pulls Caitlin from the building, but by the time Jon speaks to Cael, she doesn't seem to hear a thing. Her gaze had gone briefly towards the portal that appeared, allowing their people to evacuate - before fixating back on the sight once more, her breath catching in her throat. She remains frozen in place for a time - and then, abruptly, she flies away from Jon, landing near the portal as the men bearing Amit approach. "No no no no..." she says quickly, reaching out to shake the boy's shoulder, as if that will make a difference. "Com'on kid... Don't do this..."
    There's no response. No sign of respirations - just fixed, unseeing eyes. "No. What was he doing here? What was he //doing// here?!" she suddenly shouts, tears springing to her eyes. "He's not supposed to- he's a kid! He was supposed to be at the station! What the fuck was he doing here?! Amit..."
    It's //now// that her gaze seeks out Jon, desperation in her voice. "Jon?" She quickly activates her comms, adding, <<"Sims, tell me you can do something... pleease. Tell me it's not too late...">>
    "Look, Becker, we gotta take him back to the station..." one of the agents tries to tell her gently.
    "No," she insists desperately. "Let Jon try first. Maybe he can-" Her gaze fixes on the boy's face, blinking away her tears.
    He can't fix death...
    "Please," she repeats quietly, not even sure who she's pleading with. He just a kid...

Hope Svelgate has posed:
Lady Death reaches an arm back behind her to give the Metatron and other angels the middle finger without even turning back to look. Instead she just keeps walking, and drawing her sword slices a tear in reality, before disappearing through it. The Hell Lords knows they're coming and would be a terrible hostess if she didn't have something suitable prepared for their arrival.

Michael Demiurgos has posed:
    Raphael, Uriel, and Gabriel stare at the Metatron in its victorious glee. Uriel looks at Jon. "I'm really glad you have a plan, Jonathan. And while I am all for hearing it right now you should go. We'll ensure you a smooth transfer." He looks to Gabriel who nods. "I will take Caitlin to her friends. They can tend to her wounds there."

    He flashes and appears over Caitlin, with barely any effort he scoops the woman into a craddling carry and takes off into the night towards Metropolis.

    Raphael looks to Cael for a moment and sighs. "Give her my deepest sympathies, but the boy made his choice and to refute the consequences of his actions would be a violation of his Will." Michael, for his part, has faded from the field entirely.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon just sort of... nods at Uriel. He has a plan; of course he has a plan. Uriel of all people (beings?) should know that. Uriel's the one that planned this whole business to begin with, and Jon was, in so many ways, made in his image.

    He flies over to touch down next to Cael, expression somber. "He's dead, Cael," he says, bluntly but not unkindly. "I can't bring him back. I'm sorry. Lady Death could, but..." He looks around, but she's already gone. Damn.

    Then he looks up at the sky, frowning. "We need to end this," he says, firmly. "I need you to hold together. I need you to bring the spear and the blood with me to St. Patrick's. And then you can throw this needless waste of life in Michael's face like the bastard deserves."

    Standing there looking at Jon morosely, like he /cares/. Like he isn't responsible for all of this. Like he hasn't already hurt and killed so many people. Like he hasn't refused every chance to truly forgive, to understand, to stop fighting and focus on the real problem. At least the Metatron isn't pretending to have anything like true mercy.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Jon..." Cael responds, her breathing trembling as she looks from him, to the boy's body, to the Agents still waiting to bear him away. Fuck. //Fuck//. "Take him," she says simply, then hastily adds, "Be... careful with him." Like it made any difference now.
    "Of course, Agent Becker," comes the simple, somber reply, before the child is picked up, and carried off the field - Cael watching them depart silently, before returning her gaze to Jon.
    His words slowly sink in, and she closes her eyes - clearly taking a moment to steel herself before she opens them again. "Of course. I'll walk with you - and I'll be here when you get back."
    She wants to scream, to rage, to collapse on the floor crying - but none of those things will help.
    Instead, she simply takes Jon's hand, to walk with him through the portal, back to the Station that's been their home for the last few weeks.