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Post by Lilith on Nov 7, 2010 22:34:42 GMT -4
Lilith ached all over. She was pretty sure it had something to do with the small knicks from that ridiculous blessed sword, but it made all of her other wounds hurt more than they should. She was a demon for crying out loud. Wounds like this should mean nothing. But she was still bleeding from the back of her head, and even her stomach wound was being difficult.
On top of all that, the graces were gone and her church in ruins. She was going to destroy that nephilim when she next got the chance. Or perhaps she would make herself a chance. Either way, he would pay.
Appearing in the middle of Samael's living room, Lilith suddenly felt nervous on top of tired and in pain. She wasn't entirely sure she would be welcome back, considering the conversation they had had the last time she was here, and the way she had left. But with her church gone, there was no where else really for her to go without being at risk of archangels attempting to kill her. Which currently she was not at all up for.
"Sam?" she called quietly before sinking into one of the chairs and allowing herself to catch her breath. She tried to sit in a way that wouldn't get blood all over the furniture but it was slightly difficult to hold herself up. "Are you home?"
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Post by Samael on Nov 11, 2010 13:08:59 GMT -4
It had been an uneventful day in the Former Angel of Death's home. He'd spent all morning reading a book that had been sitting on his probably infinite reading list: "Saving Erasmus". The description alone had caught his attention.
Cross the prophet Job with It's a Wonderful Life. When the angel of death climbs out of a broken washing machine and announces that the town of Erasmus is about to be destroyed, Andrew Benoit, a pastor fresh out of seminary, only has a week to save it. Erasmus turns out to be a "Potterville" where a Mrs. Primrose Davenport owns almost everything and money is God. A small band of mystics named for movie stars gather at the mystical hot spot The Instant Coffee Cup (run by the wryly named John Luther Zwingli) and hold out hope. But Erasmus is interested in "profit," not a "prophet." What follows is a down-the-rabbit-hole mishmash of images; the Velveteen Rabbit, Homer Simpson, Mae West, and a Knight Templar all contribute their own bits of wisdom for Andrew. There are plenty of nods to Christian history, both overt and subtle, including a scene with several saints who urge Benoit to find "the truth within" and give it a voice. But is it the town that really needs saving? Or is it something-or someone-else?
He'd spent a good deal of his morning having a good laugh, at Death's expense, of the idea of him coming out of a washing machine. He was definitely going to be sending it to Azrael when he was finished. He wouldn't appreciate it but Sam would certainly enjoy bringing it up. Repeatedly.
Samael was putting away his lunch when he felt someone in his house.
"Sam?"
His head shot up from the fridge and he looked around the room.
"Are you home?"
In the blink of an eye he appeared in the living room. "Lilith?"
The moment he saw her he knew he felt how all those men he'd reaped in the past felt when looking at their wounded spouses. Dropping to he knees in front of her he reached forward to steady her.
"Lils," he murmured. His eyes roamed over her as he took in all the blood. Normally he would guess it was someone else's but the way she was sitting it definitely looked like her own.
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Post by Lilith on Nov 15, 2010 4:59:57 GMT -4
"Lilith?"
At the sound of his voice, Lilith allowed her eyes to close, feeling herself growing more tired and time went on. She hate to thought what would happen if the nephilim had actually manage to stab her with that ridiculous blade.
"Lils,"
This time his voice was closer, and Lilith opened her eyes to find her husband kneeling in front of her looking rather concerned. She attempted a smile and stretched a hand out to touch his cheek gently.
"Hello, love," she said warily, pulling hand hand away from him to wipe a trickle of blood off of her neck. "I've been in a bit of a scrape."
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Post by Samael on May 17, 2011 20:10:49 GMT -4
Grabbing a clean napkin from the coffee table next to them, Sam nudged her hand out of the way and wiped at the blood on her neck.
"I've been in a bit of a scrape."
"This isn't Monty Python, Lils. It's a bit more than a scrape."
Sam watched her for another moment, taking in her appearance. Looking at her stomach wound he frowned. "What could you possibly have been doing to look like this," he muttered, more to himself than to her.
"Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."
Okay so he was still a little annoyed at her for their last fight. Things like this were going to continue to happen to her if she kept following the orders to raise Lucifer.
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