#cotaop

He never picked favorites out of his brothers, but that didn't mean he cared for any of them specifically. Together they were the Four Horseman, and apart they each had their own purpose throughout this universe. It, however, wasn't out of the ordinary for them to occasionally meet. He found each of them annoying in their own certain ways so their meeting was never very long. He was the strongest of the four, the other three bending to the will, more or less happily, to Lucifer when the sot bound them. His brothers were always more easily persuaded.

Pestilience had been the brother of the meeting that day, the two had met in some small fish-and-chips spot. Upon the presence of both Pestilence and Death, none of the mortals in the shop stood a chance of enjoying their late lunch. Some kind of disease with boils spread like wildfire after his brother's entrance, and those who were further back managed to get to their feet before whatever other symptoms killed them.

“I’m too nice of a person,” Sapphire realized, standing outside of the victorian style mansion that she was supposed to cleanse. The house was old and grand, and Sapphire was more than a bit intimidated - not that she would ever admit it.

“Boss wants the house cleanse.  If he gets it then he trusts me, which gives me more access to the relics and a better chance to find my grace,” she told herself quietly, plucking up her courage.With great effort, Sapphire willed her legs to move and she walked up the stairs to the wrap around porch.

To be fair, Sapphire was hardly a regular civilian though she definitely didn't consider herself a hunter. She had killed vampires in Hungary sure, but they found her and it was a matter of life and death. Besides killer survival instincts and picking up knife work quickly, it didn't say much for her. Packed in her head were hundreds of years of magical knowledge from the time she spent as an angel - before she was stabbed in the back and thrown to earth by who-knows-who and who-knows-why, so she ought to be able to handle ghosts and vampires, power or no-powers. She had dealt with ghosts in the past, but that had been with other people and equipment, she was armed with precious little and completely alone. 

She bent over and took the key from out from under the rug and unlocked the door. She had a knife forged in holy water in her boot - not really much use against a ghost. Inside her backpack was an iron poker, lots of table salt, various herbs used for spiritual cleansing, and her bible, “Alright, Saph, you can do this. You’ve done this a hundred times! (just never alone- no don’t think like that!) You’re being illogical, there’s only a one in twenty chance this is even a ghost! And if it is, it's still unlikely to be excessively powerful or excessively angry.” 

She drew her iron fire-poker anywhere, and began to go to every opening of the house. At each window or door, she pored salt and tied her cleansing herbs to to window latches and doorknobs then lit it on fire. The house began to fill with the smell of the herbs. No stir came from any entity in the house and Sapphire began to suspect that there was in fact no ghost. That was until.... 

Jo approached the silhouette with confidence radiating from every aspect of her, including her posture and arrogant grin spread across her lips. She cleared her throat when she was behind them, attempting to receive their attention, and pulled out a false FBI badge.

"Agent Simmons. I'm going to need to ask you a couple of questions."

Christmas was Gabriel's favourite holiday. Not because of the presents, or the trees, or the sexy santa themed lingerie that got everyone in the right mood (though he did appreciate that) but for the holiday themed treats. Candy canes, gingerbread, caramel popcorn... all of it only came around once a year and Gabriel loved it.

Right now, he had a candy cane sticking out of his mouth, and various others sticking out of his pocket as he sauntered down the street, ringing a brass bell. Maybe he was giving the wrong impression with his Santa getup and his bell, but his intention was pure, really. He didn't expect people to just shove candy at him, much less money. 

Just as she was lost in thought something crunched behind her, probably a pack of crackers some picnicer had left behind. Her eyebrows furrowed as she craned her head to look at the oncoming person. 

"Can I help you?"

Aziraphale sighed heavily, skimming through the pages of a first edition of the Greek translation of the Bible. He'd acquired it recently, but he'd read it before, in his previous human life. Things had been a lot more interesting then, or maybe the near ending of the world had changed his definition of interesting. Book reading was still enjoyable but he longed for something more.

He set down his cup of hot cocoa, looking up from his book. He frowned as he heard the tell tale sign of a customer entering the shop, a bell ringing. He sighed heavily, sliding a bookmark between the pages and shutting the ancient text he'd be analyzing. He would simply usher the customer out with harsh glares and high prices, then he could return to his peace and quiet. 

The first ever raid in the small city of Haar, Germany had been nothing more than a false alarm. When the sirens went off, vibrating off the skinny streets, and bouncing from tall building to tall building, there was a collective silence that grew louder and louder with each passing second. It was as if somebody had hit pause on their remote control, and this was the after mass. The people of Haar had been through the drills following a raid before; they knew what to do. Hell, it was burned into their brains. But even still, it had take a second to register what was going on around them. And then, somebody unmuted the city. Panic rode in like tsunami waves as each individual tried to worm their way into the few available shelters, all yelling and crying for mercy. Within just six minutes, the streets were desolate, the remote was switched off again, and not a sound was heard.

It had taken over an hour before the second siren went off. And by then, people had grown tiresome and restless. It was a strange feeling to know that everybody around you was anticipating the ground to shake and the homes to topple. It was like watching a firework show without the loud booms. You could wait and wait for as long as you wanted, but even after you braced yourself, the noise never came. And then, satisfied with the lack of commotion, you would stumble back to your home, and wait for next time.

Except the "next time" for Haar, would just be in four quick hours, after everybody was tucked in their beds, pretending to sleep. And this time, when the man on the radio announced the "big news", and the sirens went off for the third time that evening, everybody knew that it wasn't going to be a false alarm. Families moved quickly to scuttle into their shelters, holding children and a valuable from their bedside table. This time, it had taken five minutes to get everyone in and lock the doors tight. And instead of crying in the streets, there was crying inside their haven.

Despite all the preparation for the games, nothing prepared her when the lift brought her up into the arena. She was blinded by the striking sun and had to shield her eyes from it, which she also used to cover her face for a moment. To force herself to swallow the bile rising in her throat, and to face the area in which she was surely going to die. There was no fooling herself now in this place. She wasn't a killer, and she wasn't too sure of her ability to survive. District 3 made electronics, and she could remember no arena that was held in a giant warehouse full of things lying around that she could make. There were District 3 winners, but even when she watched footage, she couldn't imagine being able to come up with something like that to win. 

As the countdown slowly ticked back, her mind brought the reaping back to her memory. All the kids in the crowds, and with her last year, she was hoping that it would be one more uneventful reaping. No, that sounded cruel. It was never uneventful. Each year she had to watch two people she knew (briefly or closely) go up on the stage to die. She had seven in for her age, along with extra for tressera for her family members. Not as much as some, but a scary amount was even having one. That was all that was needed to be picked. Just one. 

When her named had been called, she had been completely dumbfounded. She stood there simply not comprehending what had happened, even as all the eyes turned to face her, that look etched on their faces. The one she used to make when others were called. A look when someone gave when they knew someone was already dead. At the sight of the peacekeepers moving towards her, she moved her legs slowly. Had they always been this heavy? Although she had the strongest urge to bolt, she'd never get far. It was useless and she'd rather not make a spectacle of herself. 

As the countdown got to the end, her mind came back and she found herself inspecting the area. It was flat around the Cornucopia, but then seemed to rise upwards. There were mountains and trees. She spent a lot of her time in warehouses and she never really had to go outside for much except for walking home. And then the countdown was over and everyone was jumping off their pedestals.

She jumped off hers, landing on her feet. She had to get something and picking up two easy bags, she was off running on to another direction. She knew about the bloodbaths at the Cornucopia whenever someone hoped they could get in and out quickly. There were people beside her running, but she tried not to pay any attention to them. It could have been foolish on her part because they could have easily killed her, but they were running too.