See I've come to burn your kingdom down

It was dark at night and the moon was high and full in the velvet sky. For a moment, Jessica pondered if leaving the company of others had been a wise idea. It was a full moon, meaning werewolves would be out there, and she heard of the ones unable to control their violence and impulses with the moon’s effect over them. They had packs. She was on her own, barely fed.

At that thought, the girl heard a crackle. Right now, the pale ginger was standing in a dark alley, and she thought she was on her own. Flicking around, her head instantly got light. Her hands were raised to the level of her ears and they were bleeding. God dammit, always the same drill! Ain’t you fucking got nothing new to share, you stupid vamp system? Her vision became blurry for a moment. Fuck. Desperation hit her. She couldn’t deny like that. Die of hunger, what a fucking fate. Quickly, Jessica underpinned her body on the brick wall, her forearm against it. As if she even could breathe, it was like her respiration became heavier. She had never experienced such hopelessness and symptoms in her death.

Especially when it came to the stumbling vampire from the alleyway. Ah, so that's where you've been, he thought. She didn't look good, he realized, a quick observational glance over Jessica--instantly recognizing her by the waves of red hair that flowed around her--telling him all he needed to know. He was surprised she had waited so long before seeking him out, before seeking out the means to feed herself with something to keep her alive, for if Lucifer wasn't mistaken, she seemed almost near death, very near starvation itself. 

In fact, if he wasn't mistaken, she planned on playing him for a meal. Oh, dear, you've got another thing coming. But, for the moment, the archangel was entertained at her audacity, and decided to play along, catching her by her upper arms and keeping her standing, looking into her eyes, searching her face. 

Ten, maybe fifteen, were chasing her. They were fast, she had to admit, but not faster than a vampire full of adrenaline. Luckily, after a whole week without any nourishment, she had found a prey. Stumbling through the woods after unburying herself from the ground, Jessica found a fox’s lair. Never, ever in her life she imagined she would feed from an animal, but it’d been a while she hadn’t seen a human - living human, uninfected - and her ears were starting to bleed, she was becoming weaker. The girl was so hungry, the minute that unusual blood type touched her tongue, she practically tore the animal in pieces. It was like evolution rewound and now she was in the Stone Age, acting like a brutal, driven by instinct caveman - or woman, whatever.

That’s what saved her. One by one, Jessica broke their spines, never stopping on her track, aware they would reach her if she ever remained in one spot. When there was only one left, the thought of feeding on it crossed her mind, but she quickly discarded the idea, ripping its head off instead, even though with a certain level of difficulty, that fox’s blood not exactly helping that much to keep her strength.

A crack resounded from near by and she whipped her head to the direction, hissing. There was blood all over her mouth and chin, splatters across her face and clothes. It wasn’t another of them. They walked on herds, which wouldn’t make them that silent, and they’ve attacked her already. It was somebody - something else.

Once the virus had taken humanity, had turned them from alive to Infected, he didn't care what happened to them. 

The voice that sounded brought a bit of a smile to himself. There was fire in the voice, an attitude that he could, surely, end up putting to use, and his Grace knew the creature that would be up ahead. Vampire. As Lucifer came from the shadows, he raised an eyebrow at the sight before him. The pitiful look of the vampire. 

She may have had a fiery attitude, but she was weakened. Starved. Almost useless... 

The trunk was cold and uncomfortable against his back but it beat resting on the ground where he would be a much easier target to spot and attack. This at least gave him the advantage of height.

The machete was resting loosely over his lap, ready to be swung at a moment’s notice. He had a gun tucked into the holster on his thigh and two other knives hidden on him. He kept his fingers crossed he wouldn’t need to use any of them. Not tonight at least, not while he was resting.

He started to approach the tree, leaning against it from the other side, just slightly out of sight from the human, blocked by the tree itself. That was the one, unfortunate thing about actually climbing it; there were blind spots Lucifer could put to use. Half-hidden in shadows, arms crossed over his chest, he glanced up and watched the hunter. 

     So…  it’d been a rocky few months.  Devil’s traps and holy water worked on all demons, even the ones with white eyes.  

     So for the last few months, she was being tortured for information she didn’t have.  That’s…  cool…  she guessed.  Well, actually it was pretty shitty.  Super fuckin’ shitty.  You summon a Knight of Hell one time and suddenly everyone wants to kill you!

     Her offenders had vanished into thin air, of course…  so she was stuck.  And had been stuck.  And would continue to be stuck had it not been for the stranger that had entered the building.  She couldn’t exactly threaten them into helping her — not really…  the pesky little trap she was sitting on, and the rope tied around her wrists, prevented her from doing much of anything other than sit there.

Wards were broken, and he strolled through the building, looking for any random individuals. Any followers that may have been... left behind. And that's when he felt her presence. Ah, so there was one little demon, sitting bound--her essence muted. 

He approached the door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, the slightest of grins of his face and eyebrow raised. "You know, I can see that. Sorry state you've found yourself in, Meg." 

“The path is open. You are free to leave.”

Again she swallowed, showing strength of character by straightening her body a little more and nodding to him as she took a couple of steps backwards.  “Okay..thanks” She had no idea what his thoughts were right now. It was hard to decipher anything with him. The only emotion which was clear was when she had insulted or pissed him off.

Hearing him say he would not stop her, the blonde let her eyes wander to their surroundings. Maybe it was some sort of check on her part, but she needed to make sure there was only he and she—not something else lurking close by.

Her blue hues seemed unwilling to let him out of her peripheral vision, that hesitation you get when stress and anxiousness suffocate you so you feel like you can’t breathe properly. Frankie took the deepest of breaths, pushing much needed oxygen into her lungs, before dragging her eyes to look the other way as her body about turned.

This was… well, if he was correct, this was Azazel’s boss. What other archangel would ooze such malignance? 

"An antique, unfortunately," he replied, trying to keep his apprehension from his face. He’d talked himself out of worse situations. Nevertheless, he made a mental note to avoid any suspiciously Croat-free zones from now on. "She’s a tad banged up, I’m afraid. Rough landing."

Now that the angel was closer, the Master could see the faint shimmer of his halo and the almost fibre-optic appearance of feathered wings. He knew that the limbs would have looked utterly tangible and solid had he been his true form, but in the vessel they were nothing more than pale reflections. Humans couldn’t even see them, and, remembering that, he drew his eyes quickly away. No sense making it obvious that he wasn’t what he seemed. 

Angels had never got along with Time Lords. Now would be a bad time to reveal himself. 

Talking to him wasn't likely to distract him from the very thing he wanted to know for certain--What and Who this being was. 

"I believe mostly all of them would be considered antiques in some form or fashion, or completely unknown to the vast majority of the primitive minds of this world." He looked harder at the Master, eyebrow raised knowingly. Lucifer knew the other was definitely not of this planet, not of this creation. There was something deeper amongst his form that the archangel could barely notice, but it told him what he needed to know as far as that much was concerned-- 

He pulled back, form straightening. Lucifer didn't need his vast wealth of experience, his vast knowledge, to know the other had seen him. Truly seen him. Or at least, partially. The damaged wings that hung broken in a way, reflecting past glory; the light that was faded, crooked and bent. Every sign around him showed just who he was, just what he was--No longer as bright as the Morningstar was meant to be-- 

"I knew you weren't human, but this--I was not expecting to run in to one of you down here," said the archangel, head tilting in observation over the Time Lord. There was fascination there, mixed with the slightest hint of disdain; hatred. It had been ages since he'd come across one of them, and Lucifer understood now why he hadn't recognized the other instantly.