†See no Evil† [Open]

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Dressed in the long flowing gown of a Priest, Father O'Connell would stand amongst the pews of the church and gaze around at the stain glass windows. The church had emptied for the night several minutes ago, however it's doors were still open to those who wished to stumble in for a late night confession. Cracking his neck loudly, he would sigh as he walked to the back now, checking the pews to make sure no belongings were left behind that someone would need. Glancing from side to side, he would reach the end and be satisfied that nothing was remaining. A smirk on his face showed that he was pleased with having to do no work before he went out to the front.

Opening the front doors now, Riley would stand out upon the steps with a cigarette in his mouth. Even as a Priest he did these things, he supposed it wasn't against any rules he knew of or cared about, he killed almost every night even if they were considered "Unholy". He supposed in the eyes of god he was now considered a Martyr, which allowed him to break all the rules he wished, he would come to heaven simply due to the amount of evil he would banish from this plane in his short life time before he met his end in the war between good and evil. Taking a seat now on the steps, he felt a little naked without his .357 yet there had been no need for it, there never was here.

Exhaling a cloud of smoke he would gaze to the starlit sky with a longing gaze. He needed some help, a sign for what direction he was suppose to go now. Mindlessly killing the damned could not be his only calling, there had to be something bigger going on that he was suppose to aid in. "Give me a sign father, I knew yer listenin'." he grumbled under his breath, but that was merely a basic assumption, he had a sort of half faith at this point in time. He knew there was a god, however he also felt that most of the time he was not paying any mind and that people like himself or White Angels were left to clean up his messes. "Ya lazy bastard.." he grumbled once more as he exhaled another cloud of smoke.

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For a vigilante-style white angel in a town crawling with unsavory sinner-types all programmed to shoot anything with white feathers as soon as look at it, tonight hadn't been a bad night. He'd only been shot, uh, three times. The really great part was that he'd not died and he'd saved a life, the latter part of which was his job and the former a fairly common job hazard. Oh, what tangled webs he wove.

In any case, his tango with death, tonight on the docks with the lord of a local vampire clan, had taken a lot out of Malachi. When he was this tired, he generally preferred to recouperate himself and his strength in one of the few places he felt completely safe; the church. And so, he had taken flight (as soon as the hole in his wing had healed up) that night and escaped to the first church he spotted from the air. It was a regal one, newer and all lit up like it had just spat out the contents of an evensong crowd, which wasn't far from the truth. The night air was pleasantly warm on his skin, and he tried not to pay much mind to the blood he was covered in as he sped towards the house of worship, wondering if there was a sympathetic priest there that would let him stay the night and wash up a bit.

As he was tonight, Malachi cut a rather interesting figure. He was as gorgeous as he ever was, and picturesque with those gigantic white wings of his, but he was also wearing a very human ensemble of cargo shorts, flip-flops and a wrinkled blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. He also happened to be quite covered in blood. He had managed to get shot once in the wing, which meant one of his beautiful white feathered appendages looked like it had been hit with three water balloons full of crimson paint. The angel had also sustained an injury to the stomach and shoulder, which, though healed now, left holes in his shirt and the front quite covered in his own blood. One of his arms, which had been used to stem the bloodflow, was bloodied as well, and of course there were spatters and smears on him as well. He looked like a very morbid ghost, really, since he'd lost enough blood for his skin to look rather ashy. What he really needed was rest and some sugary something-or-other.

When he touched down on the asphalt of the street in front of the church, he was exhausted enough not to check his landing spot beforehand to check for any humans. He was a ghoulish sight without his wings visible. As he lifted his head towards the open doors of the church, however, the first thing Malachi spotted was a priest standing on the steps having a smoke. Aw, hell. He didn't want to have to do any cosmological explaining tonight. As the angel furled his wings from flight, he decided that it might not be a bad idea to just show himself to the priest for what he was-- otherwise, he might've looked like some vampire or other creepy-crawlie, and that would never do. The wings appeared, thusly, in the priest's vision just as Malachi approached. "Evenin', Padre." His voice was very, very tired. He hoped this man would be experienced enough not to be too alarmed by his sudden appearance and the wings at his back.

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Lo' and behold the answer of god, leave it to him to send strange freaks that come from the sky. For a moment Riley would stare with a powerful, challenging deadlock, his eyes giving off a look that could kill. "You'd better either be really crafty or an Angel.." he started in a slow tone that was heavily ladened by his Irish accent. He was weary of all the strange happenings in this city, knowing that everything that went bump in the night often did so every night regardless of location. His cigarette would hang loosely in his mouth as he continued to examine the Angel over, he longed to be holding his guns because without them he felt quite naked. "You look pretteh' beat down eh?" he called out.

His eyes would do a full physical sweep of the Angel, his wings and clothing covered in blood. Just barely able to be made out was a bullet hole in the wing which was actually more then one unlike the Angel probably thought. Was that a Shotgun blast? It seemed that a few pellets had gotten through from this distance anyway. Walking down the steps towards the man he'd shake his head and place an arm around the mans shoulders without even giving the man time to analyze what he'd do. "Inside ye get, 'fore you bleed all over me steps." he added with a small grin to try and lighten the mood due to his opening hostiliy and cold statement.

Helping the man through the front doors he would try to guide Malachi to the pews so that he could sit down. "Get some hot water and bandages." he asked of one of the other foyer attendants as she nodded and vanished. She was like his helper, even when it came to supernatrual things. "Looks like you've had a rough night boy-o. What exactly have you been doin'?" he asked with a serious glance. There wasn't much many could do to seriously hurt an angel to the point where he was covered in his own blood without being special themselves. "Whats yer name?"

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As soon as the priest moved forward and threw a friendly arm around Malachi's shoulders, he knew he wouldn't have to worry about shocking the man. That was good, he thought. Explaining the entirety of the world outside of human life was taxing and, well, aggravating after having had to do it for so many years and usually under circumstances that were less than ideal. "Inside ye get, 'fore you bleed all over me steps."

Malachi did as the priest asked, happy for the man's unquestioning help. He didn't have too much trouble walking, but it was a fraternal gesture and one the angel appreciated. He could tell that this man was a friendly one, beyond the collar and cowl he wore. His grin and casual language relaxed the angel after a long and tiring night. Malachi felt most at home in a church or other such place of worship. There was a peace in them, no matter what sort of religion they belonged to, that replenished him. It was a personal thing as much as it was racial; sure, any white angel was comfortable in a church, but Malachi especially so. The bloodied man allowed Riley to steer him to the pews, steady on his feet but sluggish and dizzy. "Get some hot water and bandages."

"Aah, don't worry 'bout the bandages, I've been miraculously healed." He relaxed into the pew, comforted by the fact that things in churches were so slow to change. The world sometimes seemed to move quickly around him, and while he didn't generally mind, it was always nice to take refuge in the slow-moving waters of traditional churches. His wings had shifted as he sat, the clean one folding back behind him as usual and the one that had been shot stretched out behind him, half unfurled and taking up quite a bit of space. He was quite sore-- mostly healed, but sore. Chi had needed to fix himself at a far faster pace than usual, and that had meant he'd done a sloppy, half-finished job. His wing he'd not really quite gotten to, a minor wound compared to the gaping hole a bullet had made in his stomach.

"Looks like you've had a rough night boy-o. What exactly have you been doin'?" The Irish priest, an attractive young man, was being serious, but Malachi couldn't help a little laugh followed by a grimace at the pain of having moved his stomach. "Uh. I was taking a walk, if you believe that." He rolled his head around on his neck a moment, and afterwards looked down at the knuckles of his right hand, which were somewhat bloody. He thought that might be the only bit of someone else's blood on him, and picked at it a moment before speaking again. "I walked up on some vampire lord or other, who immediately started shooting, go figure." The angel sounded mildly aggravated, but mostly just as though it was another night on the job. Not overly bothered except that he'd been, well, shot. "Whats yer name?"

"Malachi Logos, Padre. And you?"

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"..righ' then." he spoke skeptically as he eyed the Angel slowly. Of course there were things that he had still to understand about the way Angels worked, so he would move closer and inspect the wounds anyway. He was amazed to find that there in fact were no wounds and all he'd need was the water for cleaning the wounds general area. "Well slap me arse.." he breathed in a tone of amazement as he stood and looked down at the Angel. "Yer late fer church." he scolded with a small grin as he let loose a gentle laugh. He couldn't truly believe that an Angel chose to fall out of the sky as he insulted the lord with his curses. He supposed it was all part of divine comedy.

"A walk ya say? Where? O're a cliff?" he asked with a chuckle as he looked at the banged up angel. He looked like he'd walked into a war zone with the way his clothing and wings had looked when he'd first arrived. The woman would return with the bandages and descend upon the angel only to find the same shock that he had, there was nothing to clean or bandage. "..what is this.." she whispered softly as Riley could only smile and shake his head. To be human made everything much greater of a surprise then it most likely would be for other damned who saw this stuff everyday. "Vampire Lord? Hm.. I 'spose that'd do it lad, especially now that they're in the middle o' a war." he added with all seriousness now.

Raising an eyebrow at the Angel, he chuckled slightly. They all had names that seemed to be quite large in presence. "Well then nice to meet ya Malachi." he said softly as he extend his own hand forward. "Father O'Connell, but ye can just call me Riley." he said with a devilishly handsome grin that seemed to be quite natrual to him, he enjoyed smiling and it was a nice way to trap the ladies. Despite being a Priest, he had his own rules and practices that he followed, ones that he believed were alot truer to what the big man had wrote. "I suppose you'll be needin' a place to stay? This way." he said softly as he led stood and led the way.

Down stone stairs they would go to a grand room beneath the Church that contained walls and walls of books. A bed and a desk were the only things here. "It's not much, but it'll do for what ye need."

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Naturally, Malachi wasn't too bothered at the skepticism at how quickly his wounds healed. Not from humans, anyway, whose bodies healed slowest of all the species. Which was, of course, why the fragile creatures had such shot life spans and perhaps why they were the Chosen of God, most prized of any type of creature than walked the earth. The angel chuckled heartily at the priest's surprise and his odd little phrase, and then gave him a well-amused, wry grin at the admonition that Malachi had missed his sermon. This man's rough, teasing sense of humor combined with his inner gentility made Malachi like and trust him immediately. "Ah, damn. Well, nobody's perfect, eh? I promise to make the next Mass, Father." Chi laughed shortly, leaning over to rest his elbows on his knees.

He did indeed look like he'd just been in front of a firing squad, though, the shot to his wing and stomach had been from directly in front of him and at near point-blank range. The one in his shoulder wasn't as bad, and had hit him at an angle. He snorted at Riley's quip about walking over a cliff. "The docks. Lively place afterhours." Steady blue-grey eyes watched as the woman returned, only to find the wounds she'd been about to fix were replaced with quite flawless skin. He'd shocked her a bit, and for that he was a little sheepish. "Sorry, dear one." It was a quiet little apology, comforting and kind. She seemed to recover quickly, though. Perhaps, he thought, she too had gotten used to such strange things, and stranger.

"War? That would explain why he was so jumpy, then." His eyebrows rose as he ruminated on the night's events, Malachi's lips pursing slightly in thought. He took the man's hand though, his own grasp gentle and energetic. "Riley it is, then. Thank you." Chi took a moment to study the priest before him, the one with a naturally debonaire, rougish charm and a teasing affability that made him a refreshing sort to speak to after all the cryptic Fallen and vampires and what-have-yous he'd been dealing with since he got to Noctum.

He rose after Riley, ignoring the soreness of stretching his stomach, which he was noticing hadn't really healed as well as he'd initially thought. Ah, well. He wasn't perfect, and healing was a difficult art. There was a sort of state of mind to be attained before he could do it just perfectly, a zen-like focus on the stitching of skin, of the swiftest reproduction of cells, with everything in it's right place. He thought perhaps, too, he'd gotten some of his stomach acid mixed with blood, and that was causing much of his discomfort. Malachi would set it all right in time.

As the priest led him down into a cool basement room lined with books and outfitted with extreme simplicity, the angel didn't hold back a grin. "It's quite absolutely perfect, Riley. You're a Godsend." The angel was looking a little bit less than his usual upright and ready-to-go self, his shoulders sagging slightly in exhaustion. The fight itself hadn't been altogether terrible, but undergoing that much pain, combined with expending all that effort to fix that much flesh, was taxing to the extreme. He went to lower himself to a sit on the edge of the bed, wings moving to counterbalance him somewhat as he sat slowly and carefully. "Ahh. So, a war, is it? Do you know what they're fighting over?" Naturally, Malachi felt duty-bound to investigate this whole mess further. It was a general rule that when the damned fought, the innocent were dragged into the mess and hurt or killed.

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"A promise, eh? Well as an Angel I'll be supposin' that ya can't go back on yer word now." he joked back as he chuckled to himself. This here was a genuine, one of a kind person, Chi. Riley felt at ease around him to say the least, he was usually on guard around most people, even his own assistant here at the Church. Something about the way she seemed to relaxed around the paranormal, it made him suspicious of her and thus he never let on about anything other then knowing that they existed out there. Chi's statement about the room would make the Irish man place a hand on the back of his neck and look around somewhat sheepishly. "Bah. Ain't anything more special than a cheap hotel room. Don't mention it." he'd blurt out as he coughed to clear his thoughts.

Flattery with him was somewhat of an awkward spot, mostly when it came from men, but usually from everyone. Shuffling into the room, Riley would remove a book from it's shelf which would cause a gentle rumbling. "Inside e're you'll find a bathroom where ya can clean up." he spoke as he pointed to the book case that was now sliding aside to reveal a rather large hallway. "Should be the last door on the righ'." he grinned as he turned to examine the Angel once more. He'd always wondered what it was like to fly, to be able to enter the Heavens and to be directly in contact with God himself. "Shouldn't be too bored, plenty o' readin' to do." he added.

As for the more serious topic, the Priest would lean against a bookshelf and seem to be lost in thought. The war, something he'd stumbled across on accident but could not ignore now. "Well ya see, the Lycans and Vampires are fightin' over profits at the moment. However there is a group of Lycans who're actually freeing the slaves from their slave ring, and tha's pissin' em' off." he stated in a slow, dry manner as he seemed to be thinking a bit about that once more. "I'd say he thought you were there to take his slaves." his right hand reached up to his chin as he rubbed it gently, the sound of stubble scratching present. "A nasty trade. If on'y I could do something 'bout it."

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Chi found the priest's modesty at the room he offered fitting, and bared his nice white teeth in a smile. There were things people shouldnt't get too good at, and accepting praise was one of them-- as were smiling, crying and celebrity, to name but a few. The priest then went to tug a book out of the shelf, which revealed a secret passageway to...a bathroom. Malachi couldn't help but laugh at that. It had to be some architect's little joke, that a medieval sort of secret passageway led not to some occult chamber but a bathroom. The angel thought it funny, but didn't complain; he really wanted to get all this blood off of him.

But not, of course, before he got more news out of the priest. That there was a war going on around him was news to Malachi. He knew quite a bit about the slave trade that had been his primary focus since he'd arrived here a week or two ago, but not much about the rest of the politics boiling beneath the town's bustling surface. As Riley took up a lounging posture on one of the room's many bookshelves-- about which he'd made a little quip that illicited a chuckle from Chi, who kept himself more than busy, the angel listened with rapt attention. He'd sat down on the edge of the bed, forearms on his knees, wings half-open behind him. The angel's blue-gray eyes were focused on his new friend and ally, obviously quite interested in what he was so languidly speaking of.

The lycans and vampires were fighting-- no surprise there. But over profits? He very much wondered what sort of profits. Those begotten from the slave trade, he mused, but was unsure. That there was a rogue group of lycans bent on saving slaves was quite shocking news, though. His brows sprang upwards at this, his body language reeling from the news. Malachi sat back at this, hands moving to prop his torso up beside his hips. "I bet it is. That's some interesting news..." His eyes slid to the side, thoughts sworling around in his well-aged mind. Chi needed to find these lycans, somehow or other, and investigate what they were doing. Perhaps, even, ally himself with them. It would be very good to have someone to work with. Malachi was very aware that he could not put a dent in the slave trade by himself.

"Haha, I'm sure he did." The priest scratched at his stubble, Malachi thinking it was mildly amusing to see a lazily unshaven priest but not commenting. "There may be something. Do you know anything else about this lycan group? I've been doing what I could on my own since I got here, but there's only so much I can do alone." He gave a little mischevious smile. "I could use a little help, if you're serious?"