paixaorpg | Everything that is... [completed]

Entry tags:

Everything that is... [completed]

Character(s): Duma, Kyoko and Lucifer!
Content: Duma enters Paixao~
Setting: Vanaheim (F3)
Time: Tuesday morning
Warnings: Duma's naked but he's genderless so uhh... none? XD

Last thing he remembered was the strange patch of greenery; the green a strange sort of relief from all the red, orange and brown of Hell. Sometimes, when he gets fed up with all the screams of anguish and roars of maniacal laughter, he closes his eyes and remembers green things, beautiful and fertile forests nurturing all the creatures that reside among their leaves. He always knows when dreaming ends and reality begins, however, and he is sure that the patch of greenery splattered upon the strangely desolate hill is real.

He had hovered above the hill for quite some time before deciding that it would be best for him to come down and inspect the forest by himself. Landing gingerly on the outskirts of the forest, he spares no moment before quickly and yet gracefully walking into the comfortable darkness between the trees. Strangely, the forest seems like any other he had known on Earth and there were no demon, no soul of sinner, no one except for himself walking through the mysterious woods. Duma blinks his eyes once as he slows his steps down and looks around himself; the sickening orange of Hell cannot be seen through the foliage.

Duma's expression is unreadable as he continues his journey through the woods without glancing back even once. His partner might worry, but Remiel can manage Hell by himself in his absence so it would be alright for him to inspect this strange place for awhile. Duma's steps make no sound while the constant glow that emanates from within himself makes him seem like an exhausted traveler's hallucination rather than a real being walking through the woods.

After awhile, he finds himself looking up at two fruitful trees that seems to be a gate leading to a beautifully constructed Dome. While the gate is very tiny compared to the gates of Hell, it is nonetheless quite tall. Duma steps closer, eyeing a certain mortal who just walked away from a booth and into the domes. Perhaps there is a person behind the booth who could give him more information about this place?

He walks over to the booth, and before he could say anything, a gaunt fair-haired person yells out, "Name?" Looking deep into the person's eyes, Duma does not answer. The person's blank expression is changed very slightly as he sighs frustratedly and repeats his question, "what is your name, sir?" Duma's face is unreadable, but a slight amused smile can be seen as he elegantly takes the pen and paper from the gatekeeper and writes his own name down. The gatekeeper narrows his eyes, but takes back his pen and paper anyway, placing a white metal object on Duma's hand. "Right, I think white would suit you," gesturing towards the domes, "get in, I got others to tend to."

Another would have shrugged, but Duma simply leaves the booth and steps into the domes with the white metal object in his hand. He is unclothed save for the Key of Hell hanging around his neck. The key, gnarled and scorched, is a strange contrast to Duma's flawless skin and pearly wings.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She walks. And walks. Her steps are focused, paced yet rapid, determined is the word; her huge head twitches and shifts from side to side at every movement. She's looking for something. Someone.

She's been walking this land for hours already, only stopping briefly just beyond the gate she'd passed through to examine the device they'd given her. Scientist that she was, she'd figured out within a matter of minutes that it was something very similar to a laptop, connected to some kind of wireless intranet the main purpose of which seemed to be public communication within... wherever it was she'd found herself. Paixao, the accompanying brochures had said. What kind of fucked-up place was this that gave out brochures at the door, anyway? She felt like she was in some kind of theme park, but the atmosphere here was distinctly other than that of harmless entertainment; the situation she'd found herself in was all too real and unamusing. She'd posted a short entry to her journal (http://mutterundstolz.livejournal.com/642.html) asking for help in finding her daughter, then tucked the device under her arm and continued on her way.

Her way where, she doesn't know. All she can do now is continue to search this place. She doesn't feel hunger or thirst, and wonders if she will soon. She wonders what she even needs to eat. And before she can think too much further on that topic she starts violently at the image of the man before her, his feet not quite touching the dusty ground, huge pearlescent wings swirling around him.

If he wasn't the image of an Angel, she didn't know what was.

This place is, for lack of a better word, strange. The people have the same complexion as him, although they do not quite shine the way he does. They also did not appear as surprised as he expects when they saw the halo on his head as well as his wings. Normally, Duma would take care to wear the clothes deemed normal by the people that he wishes to associate with, as well as discard the wings and halo for the time. Although, Duma very rarely comes out to associate with anyone unless it is asked of him by someone he looks up to, and the number of those Duma counts as authority is very little. He wishes he knows that it is by authority that he has been led to this strange place.

A quick glance to the right, however, slightly dampens his mood as he finds himself facing a creature unlike those he supervises over. A beast. And yet, there is something distinctly human about it, something female. His face unreadable, Duma flaps his great wings twice to bring himself eye to eye with the giant.

A woman, he muses as he looks deeply into those four vivid green eyes of hers, neither a demon nor a beast. Duma reaches out his hand to her face in an attempt to touch her; there is a limit to what one can see through another's eyes but a touch can tell you more than a thousand things. The ghost of a smile appears on Duma's face as he ponders his next thought, and yet beast has numerous meanings...

Kyoko screeches loudly at the creature's attempted touch, falling back instantly into a combative stance and letting out a rumbling battle cry from deep within her gut. Her instincts as an Evangelion cloud her human mind, all her senses shrieking loudly: Enemy! Destroy it! Enemy! A red mist clouds her vision, and she lets out another deep bellow as her hands spring for the creature's throat, aiming to choke the life out of it.

As he expected; the boundary between what is a beast and what is human is hardly there. Gracefully, Duma soars away from the creature's intended clutch, a frown almost fully formed on his lips. It, she, regards him as an enemy. He knows that his place as the angel of vindication plants hatred in the heart of most, and yet no one would have guessed it if they were only to look at him. He is the image of purity and innocence. Innocence is what keeps him afloat, keeps him from fallen, but she seems to think that he is an enemy she must destroy. Whatever it is she thinks that his kind has done to her.

Waiting for the creature to stop pursuing him as an enemy, Duma lets himself hover downwards until his feet are as close to the ground as they possibly can be. He can wait until she is tame enough to let him touch her. He can wait for however long it takes.

She launches into a leap as the Angel soars, but her strength is severely diminished and his wings easily carry him far beyond her reach. Bracing herself for an aerial assault, she instead watches on, confused, as the being merely comes to rest a safe distance from her grasp. It's not going to attack?

She looks the Angel over, then herself. Compared to a human, she's still unnaturally strong, but this being is no human, and though the Soryu line might never back down from a fight, the thought flits briefly through her mind: could she even defeat it? The creature's actions, far from reassuring her, only heighten her adrenaline rush. She knows from painful experience that there are far more noxious means of attack than the physical, and she inwardly recoils at the memory of the sickening assault she and her daughter suffered at the hands of the 15th.

Sinews coiled, she remains in a tensed position, though makes no move to attack, merely watching the being for any clues as to what it may be about to do next.

My, my, this one is very determined about attacking him. Duma is not made for fighting, but he can bring about great power when he is fighting for the Name. And yet, he is still unsure of whether he was meant to come here or he had strayed from the path he should have taken. He is still pure enough to bear his great wings, however, that should be a good enough sign, and his feet don't quite touch the ground either. Duma's eyes are still fixed upon the creature, even though he is starting to see less of the creature and more of the human.

She is confused, he muses, she fears me. It is good to be seen as having the upper hand, even if it is actually false. She is still poised to attack him if he makes any threatening movement, he needs to make sure that she does not see him as a danger. Perhaps that will 'tame' her.

Stretching his right wing slowly, Duma keeps his gaze softly upon her. Then, just as slowly as he had stretched out his wing, Duma turns his gaze to his wing, attention wholly diverted from her to smoothing out uneven feathers on his right wing. Even the trivial action is full of grace. Duma knows that it is unwise to turn your attention away from your enemy, but she is no enemy. He hopes that she will take his action as him turning down her offer of battle.

She stares at the creature, dumbfounded, as it goes through a motion that she can only describe as preening. She remains alert, wondering if the action is merely a prelude to some form of attack after all, but the being's demeanor is not one of aggression. Instead, it seems almost.... disinterested.

She was prepared for most consequences, but not this. She studies the creature's movements intently, but it does not seem tensed; quite the reverse, its movements almost languid. One can easily be fooled, however, and she does not quite let her guard down yet.

Opening her mouth, she attempts to ask a question regarding the locatin of her daughter, but all that emerges is a guttural growl.

...Really.

That was all Lucifer had to say at the moment. He had gone from Ruler of Hell, Prince of Darkness, Lucifer Morningstar, First of the Fallen, etc to 'Lucifer Morningstar; Lux' (he even had the business card) in a rather alarmingly short amount of time. Of course he kept his ears open and was rather vindicated when he discovered that He had put Duma and Remiel in charge of Hell. Amused, however, that the Dream Lord had taken the suggestion to heart. Ah well, even the stuffiest of stuffies can apparently be talked to.

However, the '...Really.' was for his current predicament. Situation, if you will. He had not intended to go here, and for him he rarely went anywhere he had not inteded to go. In fact he had been intending to go really anywhere, but that was hardly the problem. The problem was that he was standing in a line of infernally inane conversations and none of them were giving him what he wanted.

Lucifer had patience, he just usually chose not to indulge it.

With a slow mental sigh of one who has dealt with far too many idiots (ruling Hell for 10 billion years did that to a person) he simply walked to the front of the line, cutting off the person who was talking to the friendly associate at the Gate. Speaking of the Gate, rather excessive, he thought, as he thought of many things that weren't his.

"...Excuse me," His smile was the 'yes you want to help me I'm charming and you want to obey me' sort of smile. Or the 'I'm plotting your death' smile, it was hard to tell. He indulged both of those smiles frequently.

"Yes? Oh, you must be new, can I have your name," She responded with a smile that broke glass, a true Sale's Associate smile.

"Hm," Lucifer decided she wasn't at all worth his time. Not like anyone really was, and slipped her a black business card.

L U X
Lucifer Morningstar

"Welcome to Paixao, Mr. Morningstar!" That did earn her a blink however, as did the black (remarkably like those ultra thin palm-top-mini-computer things) thing at him. He spent just a moment too long giving her the blank stare when he found himself on the other side of the Gate. Brief anger rose, he had probably just been pushed aside!

... on the other hand, it was very refreshing for his name not to incite garlic throwing or worshipping or 'OH MY GOD SAVE ME JESUS CHRIST'. In fact, he liked being without the latter very much. A brief look at the black thing confirmed that it was some sort of computer. Hm. Go figure, a further look provided him with a bit of interesting information.

Who would have thought? His retirement seemed to be rebelling against the idea, and for once Lucifer was inclined to agree. This was only reinforced as a few more steps brought him to eye a rather naked man with wings and a thing. More percisely, an angel, more percisely, Duma. The thing was still a thing, however.

"...fancy that."

When normal 'men' said 'fancy that' it could come off sounding, well, rather gay. When Lucifer said 'fancy that' it was more of a 'I am obviously better than all of this and you have hardly incurred any curiousity in me but I feel compelled to comment on it and you are insignificant' sort of tone.

The growl did not disturb him as much as it should as he rather understands that it is of no threatening manner. She is probably asking for directions or some kind of other information about this place. Whatever it is, Duma is very glad that she probably will not attempt to pounce on him anymore. It is not exactly pleasant to be treated like a pesky bug by this eight-feet-tall creature, woman. Duma has not switched to preening his left wing. The woman touched it and the feathers are all in disarray.

Duma had been the target of a seemingly hungry female beast a few moments ago and was just getting the hang of keeping her teeth away from him when a disturbingly familiar voice stops Duma's preening. Slowly, he turns away from his wing and faces the newcomer. Could the existence of this place be his doing? Duma regards the previous ruler of Hell with a slight nod, almost entirely turning his back on Kyoko. This is a very unpleasant situation...

Kyoko turns as the being does, eyeing the approaching newcomer with the suspicion she naturally affords most people. The creature doesn't seem to be taking kindly to this new one, she can tell from subtle shifts in posture and expression, but that could mean anything; right now she has not a clue whose side she should be taking. This new being, she senses -- and, if he knows the Angel, she deduces, it would not be inaccurate to guess -- is no more human than the first.

A war between Angels? She has no time for it. She must find Asuka. But equally, if these creatures are some breed of Angel, she must know all she can. She stands, passively, watching them.

If Lucifer could hear Duma's thoughts he certainly would have been more than a little exasperated. It wasn't like he was the source of all ills. Yes he did sometimes, on occasion, perhaps, do things that weren't quite in the best interest ... okay, he never really cared about the best interest of anyone except himself. Which did not mean that he would go about creating extravagent white cities. In fact, this seemed far more like that ridiculous Silver City.

Actually, a glance around afforded him a look at all the blondes, this was quite like the Silver City. Stupid sheep meandering around just waiting for some Greater Power to descend and direct them. Already Lucifer was regaining his distaste for this place. Paixao. He'd never heard of it before.

Unlike the angel Lucifer is wearing clothes. The finest clothes money could buy, though he had to admit that the black suit reminded him of priests (all their black and white) though that irony of that thought wasn't lost on him at all.

"This is quite dramatic." There really wasn't any other word for it. A thing facing off with an angel and then his own arrival with those blasted ornate Gates behind them?

The creature, woman, seems to have decided that Duma would not taste as good as she thought earlier, which is wonderful. However, there is still the problem of what this place actually is and how he managed to be able to get form Hell to here. If anyone can go from Hell to this place, there would be chaos here and everywhere. There is, after all, a reason why there are so many gates one must pass when passing into or out of Hell. Of course, there is also the matter of why exactly Lucifer is here. Duma never thought of the other angel, devil, as someone who would loiter around without purpose.

Duma follows Lucifer's gaze as the latter looks around at the pale blonde-blue-eyed people walking to and fro and here and there. The number of people resembling Duma himself is quite alarming, but it should not be so strange to find a place where everyone is of the same complexion. After all, Asia is filled with people of around the same complexion. However, Lucifer apparently finds these people very distasteful. Duma does not wonder why.

This is quite dramatic. Dramatic? Duma never thought of it that way, but there has been quite some drama involved in the recent events that befell him. There were the magnificent gate and terrifying monster trying to pluck his feathers out. Yes, this is quite dramatic. Duma nods in agreement to Lucifer's statement, then turns to give Kyoko a slight glance, to make sure she knows that he still has not forgotten about her. Perhaps she is in need of his help.

The Angel -- if that is what it is -- turns to regard her, meeting her quadratic gaze in a way that is almost... reassuring. She is now utterly confused. Why would it look at her that way? Every synapse in her body wants to respond to danger, but from this being at least, there seems to be none.

Perhaps the creature is not what it seems. This place, certainly, is like nothing she has ever known. She tries again to communicate, but nothing more than rasping growls come out, and she sighs in exasperation.

Kyoko was never one for party games, but right now a quick bout of charades seems the only option. Once the being is looking at her, she mimes out her question the best she can: pointing to herself, then making a motion as if rocking a baby in her arms; indicating the red of her core, then pointing at her hair; then finally making a wide questioning gesture, indicating the world around her.

She's not the best at this game, but she hopes she can be understood.

The thing was playing charades. Lucifer considered, for the briefest moment, that it could be a demon, but there was something all too human about it. Her. He preferred thinking of it as an it anyway. So he was stuck in this place Paixao with two mutes who were playing charades.

Joy.

"...I don't suppose this is one of His plans...?"

The idea was tossed out to Duma, but if it was one of His plans than most likely this would not be Duma standing before him, but Amandiel or Ibriel or some other angel. Though, the city with it's feeling of compliance and containment had His sort of style.

This is less dramatic than it is utterly ridiculous. This woman wanted to gobble him down just a few minutes ago and now she wants to play with him. He supposes she thinks that he would make a better plaything than food. He supposes that he should just play along with her game of charade. Herself, baby, stomach, head, question and world. Her baby with her stomach on her head is in this world. No, make that a question. Her baby with her stomach on her head is in this world?

Duma shakes his head in reply. He does not understand her question, and if his understanding of her mime is right then he does not know whether a baby with a stomach for a head is in this place or not. And so, him shaking his head to her is the perfect reply.

...I don't suppose this is one of His plans...?

Lucifer's tentative question turns Duma's attention back to the ~~man~~ ~~angel~~ devil. While Duma rather hopes that it is indeed one of His plans, it is not. It cannot be. Duma cannot find any reason why he should be in this strange place, so it cannot be one of the Name's plans. However, he could not find any reason why he should take the Key of Hell, and it was one of His plans, was it not?

Duma is not trying to be irritating, really. He never even wanted to be irritating, but he simply does not know and he rather thinks that the answer is a no. And so, another shake of head for Lucifer it is.

She sighs, again, one of the few human vocalizations she still possesses. Either it doesn't understand her question, it hasn't seen a redheaded girl, or it simply doesn't want to cooperate. Maybe it's not allowed to answer questions.

At least it isn't trying to rape her mind.

She folds her arms in irritation; she's wasting time. Yet these beings could definitely be something she needs to know about, and besides, the replies to her journal entry said that Asuka had last been sighted here.

Taking her leave of the two's immediate space without any preamble, she sits down on a nearby bench to browse through the network of journals. Maybe she can find more information here than from talking to another mute.

"I'm going to assume by extension then, that you have no better idea than I the purpose of this place." It grated on him, not knowing. At least when it was one of His plans it was (if ineffable) clear what was the probable thing. This was less than that and it was no way to start a vacation.

If he really tried Lucifer might be able to communicate with the thing. The woman. But -- he really didn't want to try, at all.

The former ruler of hell (first of the fallen, adversary, satan, ~~Father of Lies~~) let more of his displeasure show. He had been at Lux and then he had been here. Duma was here, which meant Duma was not in Hell (which by default also meant that Remiel would be sole commander of Hell for the moment which inspired none of his confidence). There was a woman thing looking for a something something and a ton of people who seemed either too helpful or useless. Not to mention the little computer seemed to show some very interesting people were also here. He made a little post (http://atsehaske.livejournal.com/437.html?mode=reply) to the journal, raising his eyebrow as it 'posted'. Quaint.

The woman seems to be rather disappointed by his reply, which is a common response that Duma gets from almost all those who attempted to communicate with him. It is all well and good, he is not bothered by it one bit. However, he does think that it would be nice if she had not given up on him and turned to the metal square for help instead. It is always nice to feel useful and Duma has not had the opportunity to feel that way for quite some time now. Perhaps he can help Lucifer, instead?

I'm going to assume by extension then, that you have no better idea than I the purpose of this place.

So, the great Lucifer does not know what this place is and he did not mean to go here but he is here. That could mean that whoever brought them here is more powerful than Lucifer, or at least lucky enough to actually bring him here. The only being more powerful than Lucifer is the Name, so perhaps this is part of His plan. And yet, Duma did not hear Him say anything about going here; he had gone to this place following his own will. Duma has not been able to hear Him clearly for some time now, however, so perhaps He spoke and he did not hear. That is a rather disheartening thought.

A quick glance to Lucifer shows him also tinkering with the metal object that the woman retired to. Most people resort to ignoring him when they realized that they cannot get a word out of his mouth, but being ignored is never something he finds pleasant. Crossing his arms in front of him, Duma tries to appear patient as he waits for his current companies to perhaps turn their attentions back to him. Not that he has anything to say, really, but it is nice to have people talk to him.

Feeling the Angel's eyes burn into her through the laptop's screen that shields them, Kyoko looks up from her journal with a soft growl. It seems to want her attention, but how can she communicate with it?

In a sudden insight she flips the journal around to show it the post she made to the Paixao bulletin board (http://community.livejournal.com/paixaomb/27249.html), accompanied by the rather crude attempt at a drawing she managed to create with the laptop's touchpad and her rather cumbersome hands. As and afterthought, she opens up a new journal window and types into it for the creature to see, What are you? What do you want?

Lucifer gives the journal what can only be described as a 'doubtful' look. First, it appears as thought Death is here. Or at least, has a way to see posts on these journals. That was less reassuring than more. More skimming of the entries brought a thin smirk to his face. Someone wondered if this was Heaven? While it had all the bland decor and numbing stupidity associated with at least half the Host this was not Heaven. Or Hell, for that matter.

Ah, the thing has acquired some intelligence. The words it shows Duma brings more amusement. What are you indeed. The second question was interesting enough, even for him, as Duma isn't exactly the most talkative angel. He waits for the angel's answer, allowing some of his attention to be diverted to those standing in front of him. It had occured to him that perhaps the people on the other end of the journals didn't actually exist, or were merely mimicking people that did exist. He'd find that out - later.

Wonderful, it seems that she has decided that Duma is not so boring that a piece of metal object is more interesting than he is. The creature suddenly flipped the metal object to show him something on it; a picture of a red-haired girl. Reading the writings on it, Duma finally understands what she meant by the stomach and the head she pointed out during her strange game of charade. She wants him to find her daughter. That is all well enough, Duma will try. There is nothing for him to do here except for explore and he supposes that keeping an eye out for a girl with red hair in this place should not be too hard. Duma gives her a nod and a slight smile.

The next thing she shows him on his journal almost makes him chuckle in amusement, however, as she asks him what he is and what he wants. He originally thought that his halo and wings made what he is extremely obvious. In reply to her first question, Duma twitches his wings to bring attention to it. With any luck, she should start noticing the halo as well.

Her second question is harder to answer. What does he want? Does he even want? There are things he must and must not do, but he never actually thought about things he wants and does not want. However, he did not want Hell. He still does not want it. He wants to be in the favor of the Name again. He wants to go home. With a deeply sorrowful expression, Duma looks upward in longing. His eyes would break your heart.

Kyoko's eyes brighten at Duma's smile -- alright, now we're getting somewhere! -- and she offers a smile in return, although her sharp-toothed maw probably doesn't make it the most reassuring smile he's ever seen. Nodding, she flips the journal closed. She's not sure she wants to wait for the other one's answer; something about it unsettles her deeply, and she doesn't think she wants it anywhere near Asuka.

But come to think of it, can she even trust the white-winged one? Her heart sinks as she realized that in her desperation, she may well have just sent two Angels after her quite probably injured and vulnerable daughter. The first creature's indication of its wings in response to her second question doesn't reassure her any, and she follows its gaze to the heavens, to the spindly spires and artifical skies above. The look in its eyes is strangely melancholy, more affecting than she could have imagined, and she finds herself standing in solemn silence, staring at the sky.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he was amused. A pair of mutes were communicating in pantomimes and writing on these journals. On the other hand, the replies he had gotten to his post revealed that there were more idiots running around than first assumed. And he had assumed there were a lot of idiots running around.

"Duma, I'll take my leave. This place doesn't suit me."

A smirk, because Lucifer was always aware of the irony of a situation (and there always was irony). He tucked the journal into the pocket of his jacket and turned right back to the Gate he had come from. Well, gates did a few things, and usually one was to let people out, as well.

Lucifer's leavetaking brings Duma's attention back to the First of the Fallen as he turned back to the gate he cam from. His presence is not exactly pleasant, but it was nice having someone he knows around. Even in Hell, even if he never said it, it was nice having Remiel around since at least he knows the other Angel, no matter how talkative he gets sometimes. Duma lets none of his thoughts show on his face, however, and he kneels down on the ground that he can now touch. It saddens him terribly, but he lets none of it show either.

He writes his name on the ground slowly, as if he has just learned how to write, for Kyoko's sake. Still kneeling on the ground, he places both of his hands over his heart to show her that that is his name. And looking up to the woman to check that she has seen his gesture, he starts writing her name below his, to show that he knows her.

D U M A
KYOKO ZEPPELIN SOHRYU

Perhaps, if she knows him, she would not be so violent. Perhaps, if she knows that he knows her, she would be more wary. Perhaps she will understand that Duma is not among those sons of Lillith that she and her daughter fought, that he is an Angel, not one of the Lilims.

Kyoko doesn't pay much attention to the other being's leavetaking; she never liked it much anyway. Her focus still on the heavens, it is diverted by the Angel's kneeling, and it soon becomes apparent that it's writing something in the dirt.

"DUMA". And it touches itself -- a fairly transparent gesture. So the being is called Duma. She's never heard that name before, and it doesn't sound like anything she was warned about, but she still remains on her guard even as the creature shows it can write her name, too. She smiles faintly, a toothy gesture, and nods at Duma, but her mind is elsewhere. And when the laptop-like device bleeps, and she notes the latest responses that have been made to her post, she goes rigid, filled with a mixture of excitement and fear.

Her daughter is being brought to her.

While Kyoko had been occupied with her journal, Duma walks soundlessly toward her. She seems to have gone rigid because of something she saw on the journal, and yet it is hard to see whether she is scared or excited. The woman wanted to find her daughter, so perhaps her daughter spoke to her through the journal. Duma lifts his own white journal to his face and opens it, looking at many journal entries listed down on the display. Not as interested in it as Lucifer and Kyoko was, Duma flips it close and looks at Kyoko inquisitively.

He read the entry (http://community.livejournal.com/paixaomb/27249.html) on the message board that Kyoko made already, but while he is glad that the daughter has been found, he cannot help but feel a little worried over the fact that it seems to be Death who is replying to Kyoko's entry. It is less about the fact that she is Death than about how she is one of the Endless. Even Death who is said to have been most caring of mortals don't go around finding lost children like a social worker. And Lucifer is here beyond his own will, even if he is the Will. Something must be about in this place, and Duma fears that he should not be here, he might have disobeyed the Name because he was not listening.

However, does it matter anymore? He has been exiled, even if he still has his innocence, perhaps. Shrugging the matter away, Duma walks quietly to Kyoko's side and takes a seat beside her as a sign of trust.

Kyoko taps her feet agitatedly, occasionally shifting position or standing up to pace a while before sitting back down. All she can do is wait, now, and the Soryu family's lack of patience is infamous.

She is grateful that her daughter is being brought back to her, but the woman -- what was her name? Didi? -- didn't say how long she'd be. She could be weeks, days or hours. She feels her stomach finally starting to comaplin, but shrugs it off.

With little else to do, Kyoko decides to use the journal -- none of that primitive scrawling in the dirt for her -- to try and communicate with Duma. Flipping the laptop open, she types onto the screen, If you are an Angel, why don't you attack? and holds it out for him to see. She still doesn't entirely trust him.

The woman is anxious about her child, but Duma wonders whether the daughter she is waiting for is alive or not. After all, it was Death who replied to her notice on the message board. Duma wonders if he should stay around and wait for her or try going back out the gate like Lucifer did, or maybe explore the area so that he has something useful to report to Remiel about his disappearance.

Turning towards Kyoko to gesture to her of his leaving, he sees that she is holding out her journal for him to see. Duma gives her a look bordering on amusement. Perhaps she thought that those sons of Lillith she fought are Angels. He wonders if he wants to bother explaining it to her, he usually just ignores the person he does not feel obliged to reply to, but he is not doing anything so he might as well reply. I am Duma, the Angel of Silence, I have no reason to attack you, Duma explains to her without speaking. Daughter of Eve, I was not born of Lillith or any woman. He is not one of the Lilims.

Having explained that, Duma gives her a nod and a slight bow to tell her that he is leaving. She can fend for herself, considering the way she tried to eat him and all, and it does not seem as if there are dangerous things in this place. Well, there was Lucifer, but he is not dangerous when unprovoked, really. With the gestures, Duma stretches out his powerful wings and flies away. He does not know where he is going, but he can hover around and get an overview of what the city is like and then find the best place to land. He has been exiled to Hell, there is nothing worse than that.

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Everything that is... [completed]

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