THE I R A * / .

sometimes I wonder what's happening to the Jedi Order.

"There's no going back now, Astaroth."

"I don't think you've ever known me to have regrets," that louche expression drifted as his eyes looked directly upon Echion, rousing a small smile as though it spoke entirely of his content upon the matter.

It's become a wretchedly common pattern within Rome; to be bound with people through only a similar channel of grief, something Roth is not fond of in the slightest. To think only six had genuinely been lost through each woven timeline, but that Adatiel was amongst them; it was a bitter taste within their mouth each time the Ira was reminded. Worse yet to find that a spirit with a foothold into this world and the in between could find no trace of those who'd been sacrificed. Clearly it was the cost of such debt, but it weighed heavily upon each of them, "If even you cannot envision a place that holds onto their spirits then they must truly be lost; I've never thought it possible." Seraphim were bound to the cosmos, even their essence could be recycled and reforged but the thought that Adatiel was nowhere was a rancid thought that wrought no comfort.

HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN Vogue US (December 2003)

"I don't know this new version of him," it sounds a little more despondent and angsty than intended, typical of Roth, but it's the truth; whatever Nate wishes to know and understand it wouldn't be fair of the Ira to dish their version out to the nephilim. "The past version is better to leave in the unknown," a weak smile there; they like and appreciate Nate, had done so way before they realized they were Michael's son.

he was legitimately so insane for this

HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN as Luke Reiter in Vanishing on 7th Street (2010)

"Anything else would be a relief from this topic," grief was hard for them to swallow, legions of other angels fell at their sword, fell in proximity to them at the height of the rebellion; it felt awfully consuming to grieve the only seraphim within their brood who didn't deserve this death sentence. There's the smallest hint of a smile at the corners of the Ira's lips, its meant to be a comfort to Nate, not to scare them off; but it likely radiates as just plain eerie coming from the Ira.

"You're different," they possess an even tone so it's not necessarily easy to decipher if it's more of a compliment or something plain derogatory. "You might like to dress yourself against the ideal of someone who might listen to that music, but I've been doing this for a long time," he'd hopped onto the hobby and followed the wave of rock until it descended to metal, nu metal and everything in between, "I can pick out who listens to what fairly well on first impressions." A soft smile, as though Roth possessed the secrets of the world behind it, when really they were just hoarding their opinions of 2000s party music to themself. "It varies, but Black Eyed Peas is really my biggest disappointment from that era," what was that meme with that square sponge? - oh yeah, soiled it.

The Ira should have instead been coined the Petulant, wrathful qualms melding his logical reasoning into fits of trivial ire. Eons seemed to separate them from the rebellion but the familiar feeling of the fallen generals stepping forth from the now destructed Inferno spoke volumes to wounds that had long since scarred over. "I fought with them from the very moment Lucifer refused Ulthar's decree," a vague retort, it was something Roth didn't need to think on in terms of alliances but there was a wonder what their presence could mean to the Blessed who were now ousted from the divine realm, too. Uriel, Michael, even Dumah now before them seemed to be swayed the longer they sat at the mercy of mortals. but it wasn't Roth's responsibility to convince Lucifer, Sathanas, nor the rest of them if they were worthy to be spared. Sariel and Atarniel were too busy humping the leg of the Senate and Hayliel was much like a Labrador, stationed happily in his position as Senator with nothing really behind the eyes. Alas, the Senate hardly mattered in the bigger picture when the Archfiends were keen on taking Elysia under their boot and whatever else they may have craved. "There are no siblings left for them to fight so I suppose what I must do is find out what their next course of action is to be," Roth did not fear approaching them, but he certainly had been avoiding it from the very moment he felt their presence become earth side.

"Politicians tend to be, yes. But we have to trust that Hayliel, at least, will make himself heard. When has he not?" Sariel is long enough to have no faith in institutions that have not proven their worth, and so far, the Senate has failed to do so, and yet it's the only body there is. Above all Sariel is a strategist, she is a planner, and she can see where the Senate is going, and right now? After Ulthar's hunger, after the Great Old Ones attacks, after the end of the world? The Senate and humanity has learned of the gods, and they are far too enterprising to allow anyone to stand above them. So for now, she will sit back and see what happens. "Unless you have a better, quicker, way to get at the gods. If so, I am all ears."

A scowl was the only inflection of disappointment that resonated from Roth, much like a petulant younger sibling he merely felt as though he was not being efficiently heard. "Hayliel isn't my problem," but they offered a smile, hauntingly chipper considering the Ira was never known for any spasms of joy. It fell immediately at Sariel's next retort, brows knit together in a wrathful form of judgement, they weren't coined the Ira for nothing, "No, of course Sariel, you're always correct in your judgements," the Invidia, an envious eye who looked upon their siblings for all she could never claim for herself. A strategist, maybe, but Roth could see right through his sibling.

We're on our own, the Ira tried to suppress some indignant scoff, opting for an eye roll instead. "We always have been," it was as simple and as overwhelming as that; brought into this world to clean up the putrefaction of old Gods, only to be wrenched apart by a creator who was hellbent on his own powers and influence.

[END]

Hayden Christensen behind the scenes of Jumper

"Well, you have like fifty fucking employees working in this place. I doubt you're not getting annoyed by at least five of them. Or all of them actually." There was no way that entire band of misfits were all getting along. They had to have fights sometimes. Maybe Hayliel would ask Sariel what the tapes looked like. Well, actually, he'd ask her that when he wasn't still upset with her. It had been a long time, but he was still very annoyed by the words she'd said and the obvious sucking up she was trying to do as an apology. "Why do you not like karaoke? I mean, you love music so you should be down to do a screamo thing. I'll do it with you and everything. I promise I won't douse you in glitter. This time." He patted Roth on the shoulder. "Vampire party? Well, yeah, but I'm going with Yavie. Do you really think I can just show up with you without getting in trouble?"

"They have common sense, surprisingly," snarky in a very sibling-like demeanor. Though Dante and Nate could basically shake a bag of weed and toss them a couple of joints and it would likely make the Ira forget that they were somehow annoying him; very Pavlov of them. Paloma kept to herself, stocking records with massive headphones atop her head; so, safe to say, Roth thought she was perfect. "Why do you sound mortally wounded that I don't want to sing the music I love?" Again, very mockingly sibling-like as it fell from their lips, an expressive brow subtly quirking. Hayliel patted the Ira on the shoulder and it partially defused them, shrugging, "I'm more of a background artist, you're the one who is supposed to be the whole show," they knew the Luxuria was mostly conceited that way and it'd hopefully edge the limelight away from such horrific idea. Roth just knew Hayliel would betray their trust and bring out glitter and that was a massive factor as to why they'd never join for karaoke. "I guess that's the whole point of your house husband title," paired with a mild shrug, Roth supposed he should be happy that if the world ended again, Hayliel would be safe.