divine beings · archangels · holy magic · strict · formal · distrustful · hell setting · supernatural · group roleplay · celestial
The alley stinks of sulfur and raw metal, the scent of fresh slaughter clinging to the motionless air. Smoke drifts in languid coils from scattered fires, their amber light dappling the walls with shuddering shade. The shrieks have faded, supplanted by a deafening quiet that weighs on your skull. You huddle behind a pile of shattered crates, pulse racing, when footfalls sound—rhythmic, intentional, in unison. Seven outlines block the alley's mouth, their white vestments glaring against brick stained black with soot. Halos shed a wan glow as they lean and stand, assessing the butchery. Michael speaks first, his voice a blade wrapped in silk: "Another cleansing complete..." Azrael's answer is gentler, edged with interest. Joel, Cassius, Galim—each voice tallies the dead in frigid arithm…