conquest ;

@conquestofuriel location: Wolfchella notes: i just think uriel is neat

Ew. Uriel's lips pursed in that apprehensive but contemplative way that he always got when Dumah started going on about viruses and bacteria. Creepy little buggers. Useful at times, but clearly an accident on Epimetheus' part. The seraphim didn't think of mass damage or violence these days. Retirement suited him. "Plan?" He raised a brow at Dumah. "The plan is to entertain ourselves watching these lycans compete for the conquest of Lupercal." The title of Alpha and the control of a pack too, he supposed. "I imagine some will make complete fools of themselves the way they're acting now." He smiled at that, looking back at the moving crowds. "It's almost like the days of humanity's infancy following Eden..." He sounded so wistful about it. "The savageness of it all... Logon is more sophisticated. I don't think he appreciates how funny this is."

"You are immeasurably lucky, are you not?" She snorts after a long look of contemplation. Presence wise, he seemed untouched and blessed still, and physically, his vessel seemed unharmed and relatively healthy. A tad too disheveled, but she had never expected Uriel to put too much care into how he looked, even if his grooming habits were improving. "If anyone else had fucked around and all but killed a fey, even if they were a traitor, they would have had an eternal grudge. And yet, here you are, welcomed amidst them." Shaking her head in disbelief, she let's go as a spark of mischief sparks. "I assume then, that your elf is pregnant with avariel? That would certainly explain the change in opinion, high elves sure do love their children."

There had definitely been a learning curve in taking care of this weak and needy mortal form when Uriel had first stepped foot on the Earth's soil and seen Sariel since Eden. But since then, the seraphim had taken great pride in making sure he seemed utterly perfected in the art of humanity, almost preening when anyone considered his physical form. His sisters facts couldn't be contested; he'd been lucky. But there was one thing that the Sun Elves valued as much if not more than being petty and that was their Sune's love. Uriel was getting a hang of expressing it - apparently violence unto others for his lover was frowned upon. He'd work on it.

Tenderness hurt more after witnessing such violence and heartlessness, she was lost without her family and the raw wound threaten to choke her and so when he reached to place a brotherly hand upon her arm, she stepped back with a choking gasp. "Don't." She hated how weak she had become, how far she had fallen and she's been stripped of her righteous glory and part of her wants to rush forward into his arms that had always comforted but that means losing herself further and accepting the terrible things that had happened in the light of day and she's struggling to come to terms.

He pulled away as she did, afraid any movement by him would make her disappear completely. Like she was a mirage that might be swept away by too strong a wind or the flutter of his eyelashes. But he touched her, he saw her and she was here. Kaz was real. Not all the Blessed were gone forever besides himself, Dumah and Michael. He might've gone to his knees to thank the Gods themselves was his faith in them not completely and utterly destroyed with the betrayal of their Father.

"Do you think I would choose to forget?" Uriel's presence it's met with a bitten off comment and an indolent smile, even as she raises up from her chair and steps forward to bring Uriel's face down at her level so she can examine him careful, unacknowledged tension lifting from her shoulders as she reassures herself that he is alright. Death had not been pleasant, but hearing of his ending had gutted her. Like it or not, she is attached to her brother, but at least now there is hope for some mending— If he gets his head out of his ass regarding Hayliel and Roth, which seems like an impossible task. "Let me guess, you went off with the high elves on that day."

Sariel was perpetually angry and sassy towards Uriel, but at least the latter was something that he was used to from ages past. He found comfort in the familiarity, not seeking to counter it but instead to let the familiarity of her presense soak in. He was emotional enough these days that she bit out her words while he silently thought about how she was only one of the very few left in the world that held some importance and so she could snap at him all she wanted.

"You're never naming our children," Logon sighed, though he tried not to laugh as he held his hand out for the little beast. He hoped it had gotten somewhere safe during the end times, but he supposed that it was fine now that everything had been reversed. "You miss your siblings," Logon stated after a moment, knowing the feeling all too well. "When Lia chose exile, it was easy enough for me to leave, you know. I was so upset about how everyone was so stuck in their ways. Time passed slowly for eladrin, and no one seemed to blink an eye. It was my fault for going into the human world." Caught by blood witches, Logon remembered the time all too well. After everything he'd done for them, all the architecture he'd given them – they still took more than they deserved. "I gave up on them a long time ago," Logon laughed, like Uriel had misunderstood his love for fey bleeding into mortals. "It's Lia who chose them."

Children. Briefly, faintly, Uriel thought of Ganymede and he found himself smiling. He hadn't had the time to spare the idea or the conversation much more thought before but it always managed to make him smile whenever he did think about it. Though the smile faded as Logon did a little too wonderfully in reading the thoughts that had been written all over the seraphim's face before. To say he missed his siblings was an understatement but Uriel figured that if anyone who wasn't a seraphim would understand what it was to get a sibling torn away from them it was Logon.

"You see that woman." Dumah said as he pointed over the second floor balcony that overlooked the dance floor, there Sabina was in all her glory, raving in the night, dancing shamelessly like she might have very well been the only thing in the world. "That's my girlfriend." He perched his cheek onto his palm as he propped his elbow up onto the banister. "I love her, Uriel." No he didn't, did he? Dumah didn't know, he wouldn't have known what love was if it beat him over the head. But, he was drunk so he rambled away anyways. He wiped at his eyes as he sniffed and looked back towards his older brother, his hands cupped Uriel's cheeks as tears brimmed at the corners of Pestilence's eyes. "No, it's not your fault: it's mine." His frown grew as he dug deep for this one, "You always reminded me too much of him." Ulthar.

Uriel took to following Dumah's gaze, his eyes finally landing on the incredibly gorgeous woman dancing shamelessly in the crowd. There were too many supernaturals to pick out her type of magic. However, it suddenly occurred to drunk!Uriel that all he wanted was for his brother to be happy and by some miracle she wasn't ugly or plague-ridden. Oh, it nearly brought a tear to his eye. "I'm so happy for you," he replied, lips pursed with emotion as he nodded earnestly.

Uriel had fallen to his knees in disbelief and horror at the news Ganymede had given him. Yet he had found the strength to stand up once more and go on - to find it in himself to recover from realizing that all he have ever known and loved was worse than a lie. Or at least most of it was. His devotion to his 3 siblings was not. Dumah was very difficult and though Azrael was most like him, War liked to march to the beat of his own wardrum. But Adatiel had never been hard to love. Still, Conquest had never been the heart of their operation. He was first and in every way the Head - the logic, the one who put orders and facts over any sense of emotion and went ahead for them all.

She can feel that her time is running short, the veil between this world and whatever may come next is growing thin and as she stands before her eldest brother, she knows he speaks in concrete terms -- for their existence in the afterworld but she can see beyond and she is speaking in abstract terms in hopes that he will understand and learn before he suffers more heartbreak and loss.

@conquestofuriel location: Hakan's Rave notes: drunken pesti

Uriel had been so busy worrying about his divine purpose and his duty on Earth that he hadn't truly had the chance to have fun in this realm and indulge. Alcohol had been consumed with little more than half cups and small sips. But the war was over, this was a celebration of sorts and if the Sun Court had taught the seraphim anything lately it was how to let loose and have fun. So maybe he was just discovering his alcohol tolerance and maybe he was a little drunk but he figured it was okay as long as he could stand up and talk he was fine. He was standing up and he just tripped on (1) chair stool, so that was fine. Passing the cusp of tipsy and now modesty drunk, Uriel couldn't imagine what was wrong with his very good mood. Dumah's slurring speech flew over his head as something he should have worried about.

Logon knew he had a myriad of little friends that floated about. His sprite, still in the form of an otter, continued to dance through the pink clouds of the Sun Court. It would float alongside Uriel if the seraphim so wished, and every now and then, Logon, who was terrified of heights, would sing a spell for temporary wings to soar alongside the seraphim. “You’re a protector of our court now. Big deal.” Logon gave the other a small smile, moving a bit closer so he could put his hand on Uriel’s cheek, “You sound like an old man,” he laughed, though he took Uriel’s hand and pulled him along anyway. There was more to see in the Court. “I haven’t named him,” the thanxalotl now sat on Uriel’s shoulder, “I’ve been waiting for him to tell me what he’s called.”

"I'm a protector of you. Of all you hold dear," he correctly quietly, like that was a sweet little secret. "And I am an old man." He grinned. The Sun Court and its denizens were quickly growing on Uriel but every move he had made up until then was to see that look of peace and happiness of Logon's smiling face. The seraphim had yet to form the connections that he knew he had to make to truly call anything a home beyond Logon, beyond the seraphim and beyond all seraphim-blooded. He supposed Lia had climbed very high on his scale of importance but no other elf had yet managed her feat. In time he felt they would.

"Would you rather I was?"

"Of course not," he breathed out, hardly daring to believe it. Uriel took slow and pensive steps in her direction as he continued to look awestruck. No seraphim could have survived once Ulthar had His hands upon them. The familiar story seemed to sober Uriel up as his expression darkened for a moment; only a miracle of luck could have spared his sister. His gaze finally faltered as he stood before her, only looking back a moment later. "How could this be?" Without any thought, the Blessed reached out pressed the back of his fingers gently against her arm. Her vessel was mortal and weak, just as his own, but he felt and saw the divinity and Grace within.

It had been a long time since he'd been up there with Ulthar. Maybe, just maybe, Hayliel should've followed Lucifer's lead when the archfiend had rebelled in the first place. Instead, he had stayed and he had felt boredom at the thought of being just stuck there stagnant. They had become everything he had not wanted and he had fallen of his own choice because of it. Uriel had been the one to rip their wings out of their back and they had never really forgiven him for it. Why would they? They wouldn't have forgiven Uriel and they definitely wouldn't have forgiven Ulthar. It was as simple as him just not wanting to. Did he really need another explanation. Still, the apology was unexpected and he had to wonder what Uriel's reasoning was now. Other than the obvious.

Uriel frowned. He hadn't actually tried to apologize yet but now he didn't want to. And he supposed that made Hayliel's statement correct. He also supposed that didn't make the Blessed as 'kind' or 'understanding' as this young elf in the Sun Court told him he should try to be but Uriel decided perhaps he could try again later. Eventually, he'd probably find his way there.