#thebittertruth

The midnight hour was fraught with restlessness, cold sheets of rain descending from a velvet, heavy shroud of storm clouds that flickered with lightning dancing in the oppressive, brooding sky. The city of Manhattan below spanned like a starry tapestry, a maw of teeth surging into the very sky. Bolts of lightning struck lightning rods with cacophonous claps of thunder and showers of sparks that rained on the pelted streets that ran like veins, pumping smoggy traffic and blitzing headlights across city blocks and creating a dazzling, shimmering nexus. Upon the soggy concrete that reflected the cascades of neon, the Azure Dragon trekked in a human guise, painfully mortal in slacks, a pea coat, and shoes that shuffled carelessly through puddles. The rain was his territory, the water his home. No matter which shoreline an ocean straddled, the seven seas were his dominion. Mortal, god--or some divine median between the two. The stench of Hell was strong among mortals, the burning ozone of Heaven glaring from above like the heat of an unseen sun.

The blaring of a car horn jarred him from the fugue of his thoughts, a taxi swinging away from the curb and charging into traffic, Dan Heng balking with slight distaste. Had he a choice in the matter, he would've preferred to live in the currents of the world's oceans and rarely emerge upon land, but this was important. The feud between Abrahamic forces of Heaven and Hell had become obnoxiously dominant in the past thousand years, a progression he'd passively watched while they canvassed the globe on the banners of countries conquering both east and west. With a brief flourish of his wrist, Cloudhymn magic sent an unseen wave through the crowded streets these people would never see, a returning wave painting arrows upon street corners that beckoned him like twinkling stars a pilot followed while braving the almighty seas.

Banking sharply, an unassuming alleyway curved into a dead end to the naked eye, yet before him revealed the entrance of a ritsy night club only their ilk could perceive. Angels, demons, the mythic that had been borne from the forces of nature; this was the world that existed alongside the mortal. The gargoyle bouncer gave him one look and saw past his mortal guise, inclining his head in deference before the gaudy, black and gold double doors swung open and invited him inside the smoky cabaret where dreamy jazz fumigated the air like fog, scarlet and velvet dripping from the walls and ceilings like blood. Dauntlessly did he enter, a bespeckled hostess regarding him hawkishly.