Let's dance, boys!

“You’re certainly not what I expected to find down here - normally those that draw the attention of these pests have a certain je ne sais quoi to them. Repulsive little things-” 

Silver optics slide past the feathered cadavers unceremoniously scattered about before lifting upon the crimson cloaked enigma before her. Intent and blatantly sizing him up.

One, after another. An angel slaying on these mere streets bereft of the usual European bustle was nothing short of ecstasy. Perhaps, not on par with a grand opus, but enough to call it a tour de force on her part. Halos remain severed from their heads, as do the entrails she kicks from her prized stilettos. The warped whistle cuts through Purgatorio, followed by golden light and theistic fanfare.

“Bosh,” she mutters, teeth crunching hard against the candy in her mouth to wantonly pulverise half of it into sucrose powder. “Bloody, angels. Can’t even respect a girl’s right to own a sodding sweet tooth...”

A deafening roar reverberates the very earth beneath her heels as the dragonic cherub, Courage, makes its entrance with a dozen or so lesser minions in tow. Cocking her pistols with the click of her mounted stilettos, the witch prepares to tussle with the naughty echelons of God. From the edges of her elegant frames, she notes the hellfire laced gate emerging from the very depths of Inferno. A knowing smirk etches itself upon painted lips.

“Pardon me, darling. But I’m looking for someone… stout, with a horrendous Italian accent, and uglier than sin? Also swears every two sentences, and is likely to make derogatory comments about attractive women. Seen anyone like that tottering around?” the elegantly clad woman inquires, her face somewhat obscured by her ivory cartwheel hat.

A bloodcurdling scream cuts through the air - one she knew all too well. Speak of the devil, and he appears… with friends in tow.

“HELP! BAYONETTAAAAAAAAAAH!” The stout informant beseeched as his car was being openly vandalized by a flock of angels.

Although Enzo was a mundane, and thus, could not see them, still managed to dodge each assault whilst driving towards her - no small feat. She was almost impressed. “Oh, bollocks.” Lifting her head, she releases an exasperated sigh.

Arcane fetters unleashes her guns as they materialize within her grasp. With flawless precision, she aims, pulls the trigger, and nails one of the apostles right in the head.

“You’ve certainly been busy, haven’t you, love?”

The faint glow of a sigil was the only warning of her arrival - opening the way between the two planes as she sashays towards him. Her hands propped coyly on her hips, a knowing gaze leveled with the Dhampir before her.

“I hope those naughty little angels haven’t been giving you too much trouble.”

Her heady perfume smothers the air, tying it into a neat bouquet of rosemary and sage few could deny the pleasure of indulging. Few could ever crack open what secrets lay abound within her touch, fewer still would even dare. 

“Oh bosh, not this again.” She chides as another bullet goes off. Another click. Another snap. Another flourish of deep black butterflies followed by plumes of ivory feathers.

‘Angel’ - Within Temptation