Young Writers Society

Kratzer lowered his gun as he realized that this was just another unfortunate fellow who'd stumbled into this like all the rest of them. "It's real," he said, tone calm.

"Real as anything ever is," a woman said in a singsong lilt, walking forward from the back of the church. She had long, black hair that framed an elegant, pale-skinned face. A piercing, emerald gaze found its way to Edward, then to Kratzer. "Then again, it's all relative." She glanced around the group. "What a curious assortment. An angel who's a demon, a couple demons who are angels, and several others who I'd imagine weren't whatever they are now, if the surprise is anything to judge by."

The moment the woman began to speak, everything in Kratzer's demeanor changed. He was guarded and quiet and the usual confidence he carried with him was instantly replaced by a carefully-crafted mask of uncare. She looked at him.

"Glad to see you made it, Silberfuchs," she smiled a little. "Cornyx, Melkyael. My, my. What a party we have here. Do introduce me to your friends, Engel." She looked towards James and Maahes.

His jaw tightened a little but the assassin dipped his head in instant obedience, or perhaps it was simply resignation. "James and Maahes, a few individuals who I...encountered many years ago in an incident similar to this one." His voice was so carefully controlled it was unnatural, even for him.

"James and Maahes...Maahes...Wasn't than an Egyptian deity? Are you a god of sorts, or merely named for one, Maahes?" she inquired.

"Oh. Sure." Sevy blinked at the use of Grim's alias. It took a moment for him to realize that Grim probably just didn't want to give away his identity, and then he felt awful for not realizing before. "Rightttt. Griffith." He cleared his throat and gave a cross between a wince and a smile.

Damascus dipped his head in a nod, a confused smile plastered on his face. Why was Griffith going through so much trouble to explain his nickname? He really didn't mind strange names- he had one himself.

Sevy glance over at the intimidating-looking demon, wincing again as he fell over into a pew. "Nah, he doesn't seem too bad. Probably in the same boat as we are, poor guy." As he made this observation, he fingered his horns absentmindedly, at this point he had simply accepted the fact that he probably didn't look all too friendly himself.

Damscus looked around, trying to catch sight of the demon being mentioned. Instead, his eyes fell on a figure that had apparently just fallen out of a pew. Was that-? It couldn't be... there was no way that the odds were in his favor once again.

Before he had a chance to process, he found his feet moving him toward his sworn brother and old friend.

"Ah- please excuse me for a moment." He called over his shoulder at Sevy and the others, pushing down a pang of guilt.

He approached Boris, glancing briefly at the avian-amphibian creature sitting above him.

"Boris! You're here too!" A few new features came to his attention, and he tilted his head as he offered a hand. "And... with wings."

The moment the woman appeared and Kratzer's demeanor changed, Maahes felt a shiver run up and down his spine. He didn't know who the woman was or how she was connected to Kratzer, but he was sure that it couldn't be in a good way. Stuck in this form instead of his actual body, he felt weak and helpless when she turned her attention to him. Even more frightening was how his body was desperately telling him to run away, even though he knew that would only end poorly-

He took a hopefully unnoticeable deep breath. This woman reminded him of the Goa'uld he had met in the past, and those Goa'uld had only been so powerful - they all had some sort of weakness. He had handled people like her many times in the past. Despite being like this, he still had his experience to back him up. He could deal with her.

"Maahes was the name of an Egyptian deity," he confirmed, taking a step forward and adopting an expression and tone more fitting of the Scarlet Lord. "I have no way of knowing if we're from the same reality, but, where I come from, I was the one who the myths were made for. Calling me an actual god might be a bit of a stretch, but I was certainly worshiped as one."

Rule number one of dealing with people like this: never let them know just how powerful he was. He had to balance out showing off his power without coming off as too cocky - if he did, it would make his claim lose credibility.



The demon considered the hand that was offered to him, but ultimately decided to get up on his own. He did, however, thank the angel - he wasn't rude. He was going to try finding some place to retreat to; he didn't want to deal with any other people until he figured out what had happened to him. But then he heard the names being exchanged, and he spun around to look at the others present in the church.

Of course, the blood on his sunglasses was making it difficult to see, so he finally succumbed to temptation. He took them off, rubbed them furiously with his sleeve and put them back on. There. Now he could get a better look at the people involved in that conversation.

James. The demonic features were a bit...distracting, but he could somewhat see the resemblance. There was just too little facial hair for him to call it an exact match, and the outfit didn't exactly help.

Engel. He could see that much clearer now that he had gotten rid of the blood. The man looked almost exactly the same as he had when they had met in the bar, though he weirdly was an angel now. He couldn't quite get over that yet.

(The German accent was an added bit of confirmation.)

Boris. He was in a nearby pew, and apparently was also an angel now. It wasn't that hard to recognize him, compared to the others - his appearance had barely changed since their last meeting.

Damascus. There was no one who was clearly him, but the man standing near Boris and enthusiastically talking to him fit the build of the form he had used in the bar - the only thing that broke his theory was how the man didn't have red eyes, but that might have been because he currently looked like an angel.

Schadel. Where was she? If this was like with the bar, she should have been here, too - hadn't they been right near each other before ending up in this church? If he remembered right, the rack he had been pushed into had gone crashing down on top of the grim reaper.

And then there was himself.

Five out of six. Not bad, and he was sure that Schadel had to show up soon...

Right?

He was torn between going over to Kratzer's group or going over to where Boris and probably-Damascus were. But considering that Kratzer looked like he was deeply uncomfortable with the appearance of the woman who had shown up, and that he was his brother, even though that had just been a cute little thing they had done as kids, he knew exactly where he had to go.

He walked right over to Kratzer.

"I didn't hear you give your name," he innocently said, looking the woman over. "Mine's Edward Smith, by the way."


Aquarius finally let go of Grim's arm when Damascus wandered off; he was grateful that the demigod had decided to give him some personal space. He really didn't like the feeling of another person clinging to his skin, even if that person was someone like Aquarius.

Grim looked over in Damascus's direction, then back at Sevy.

"What...what is he?" he hesitantly asked. He had already started to pick up on the pattern. People here, for the most part, tended to be the opposite of whatever they really were. He was the Grim Reaper. Now he was an angel. Sevy was an angel, and now he was a demon. Aquarius was close to godhood, but he had fangs and horns. If Damascus was an angel now, then he must have been something fairly different before.

"I've gone by many names, but most nowadays call me Boomslang," she introduced herself, then glanced back at Maahes and James for a moment before finally addressing Kratzer with the hint of a dangerous smile. "Brothers, is it?" she said as she scanned James. "Funny...I thought Gunther was the last one." She chuckled. "After so long, Engel, and I never knew you'd found anyone else...Here I was believing that Auryon, Diamond, and Genette were the only ones who cared. Well, now it's just Diamond, isn't it? I'm disappointed, honestly. I thought we knew one another better than this. Who else is it here you are familiar with?"

"How many friends do you zink I have?" he growled.

"At least zree," an angelic figure who looked shockingly similar to Kratzer piped up from the pews behind Boomslang. "But it seems like zere might even be more. Keeping secrets again, Dreizhen?"

If it was possible, Kratzer seemed to get even paler as he saw the newcomer. Could this seriously get any worse?! "None of your concern, Sieben," he retorted dryly. "But nein. Zese two are it."

"Don't lie to me, Engel, we've been over this," Boomslang sighed. "But I'll deal with you later." Her gaze fell on Melkyael. "Ugh, can no one get their job done around here? Engel, remedy Sieben's mistake, would you?"

"Ja, ma'm," Kratzer said softly and cocked his gun. Melkyael fell back, eyes wide as he realized what was about to happen.

Rose stayed where she was, again. She did not like the looks or the sound of that woman. Her heightened senses had remained the same, and she sensed something wrong. Instead of joining the huge group, she sat down, trying to get a grip on what had happened to her, and everyone else. No memory of arriving, and she knew no else around here. She jerked her head around as she heard the sound of a gun cocking.

"You fell on me." said the blue, feathered amphibian girl. Despite my agitation, I composed myself, and began to apologize for having fallen on her, when she ducked to the floor, seizing my head and pulling me down with her.

"Madam-" I protested.

"Ssh." she hissed. "The guns are out again."

Her selfless concern was not very helpful, as the pew we would have been ducking behind was now split into large pieces, and not only were we very much visible, but the men with the guns were completely unconcerned with us.

After a moment of staring at them with great focus, she looked at me.
"Madam?" she said, stifling a giggle. "Hoho, I'm a Madam."

She resumed staring carefully, and did not shift her focus again until the guns were lowered. Satisfied, she ran off to go pester a white suited angel and a pink haired demon, proudly introducing herself as Madam Siren.

I gazed blankly at the unfolding dramas and reunions, twitching my wings experimentally, casually pondering over wether I wanted to decide that this was real or not. I'd given up narcotics after the masquerade party, solely because I grew tired of these moments of uncertainty, but yet, I still was unsure.

Strong religious symbolism made me feel inclined to think this could be a dream.
The presences of James and Engel did little to help things, as I easily could have dreamed of them, too. But, these wings did feel very much like true flesh and blood, the muscles of which responded as delicately and precisely as with my own hands.
But I'd had some startlingly convincing dreams before, both chemically induced and naturally occurring.

However, I never knew myself to question the state of things in real dreams, therefore, this must be actually real.

...God, I should have given up narcotics sooner.


I was lifted from these thoughts, in the literal and metaphorical sense, by an eerily familiar face. By... by Damascus. Yes! He had white wings, like mine, his hair was different, and his sweet scarlet eyes were an earthy brown, but it was him, it was him.

"Sweet Lord, it's you!" I exclaimed.

We were both angels, now. In that moment we were the same. It wouldn't last, most likely, but today, we were the same.

In reply to his comment, I turned my head, to survey the unfamiliar growths that spurted from my shoulderblades.

"Ha. Thank Christ, they are wings. I thought it was a tumour." I said cheerfully.
"I'm joking," I clarified, "Please don't worry about my health."

I leaned in, and hugged him. It was a little awkward, having to avoid each other's wings, but we made it work.

"I've really missed you," I said.

Boomslang carried a kind of presence that was familiar to James. He'd known a few people who lorded themselves over people - by whatever means, possessing the power to do so. It disturbed him to see Kratzer's personality shrivel into a shell of itself, but he knew he'd had similar responses before to people of her kind. He noted the presence of more of his friends briefly, either angelic or demonic in appearance like everyone else. There was Engel, Boris, Edward... and Siren, the fish girl, who he recognized from a fuzzy recollection.

But his attention was largely on the gun Engel was pointing at one of the angels that he didn't know. Whether he knew them or not didn't matter. So he stepped in front of Engel, and in front of the gun with a cool calmness, turning his head to the Boomslang.

"Whatever business you were conducting before you all arrived here is irrelevant to your current situation. Regardless of your station or who you were before you arrived here, we're all in the same boat, and we don't know why. It would be wise to refrain from violence until you get back to where you came from. We may very well need everyone here to get back to our homes. So whatever job it is that needs finishing, you can finish it when you return," he said, speaking with a calm sort of authority. His eyes slowly drifted over to Engel, making brief eye contact before they flicked back to Boomslang. "Got it?"

He felt his heart stop as James stepped between himself and Melkyael, his finger already resting on the trigger in preparation to make the killing shot. Please, God...if there was one up there, he prayed that he wouldn't be ordered to go through his brother. The fingers of his off hand clutched the rosary in his pocket so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

He wouldn't shoot, not if James was the target. He knew that. Still, he was terrified of what Boomslang might do if he blatantly defied her orders - and what his allies might do in a futile attempt to protect him. Still, there was the smallest voice in the back of his head that told him he was perfectly capable of pulling the trigger on James - if he'd done the same to Genette he had no doubt of whether or not he was capable, and that knowledge almost scared him more than Boomslang did.

Kratzer looked to the green-eyed former-demon who James addressed. She studied him for a few moments before finally raising her hand to the Silver Fox. "We'll deal with him later," she told Engel. "Your friend has a point." Her gaze fell back on Melkyael, whose wings were raised and his shield was readied. "Don't think you get off the hook, last of the Archangels. One of these two will hunt you down the second we get out of here - mark my words."

He put his gun in his holster and stepped back, trying to keep the relief he felt off his face, and glanced at James thankfully.

He acknowledged Engel's glance with the slightest bow of his head.

"Wonderful," James replied in monotone. "Now, if that's all the peacekeeping that needs to be done, let's all gather up front, in front of the pews. Clearly, everyone is confused to some degree. We can come together and combine whatever limited information we all have," he said, now addressing the room. He looked over to Maahes, nodding for him to follow, preferably close, as he made his way up the aisle.

Maahes eagerly fell into step behind James, casting one last glance at both Kratzer and the people he was with. He hadn't been able to put the feeling into words back when they first met, but he had always known that Kratzer's life was more complicated than it had seen on the surface. That suspicion had been reaffirmed when he had been with that woman who had stabbed Rendra at the masquerade. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but he had been certain then that Kratzer had been apart of something that couldn't be characterized as good.

He just never thought he'd meet the reason for that, or see Kratzer the way he saw him now. The very vague memories of his childhood told him that Kratzer had treated him like most responsible adults had - he had been trying to reign back an excited little spirit who hated being reigned back. Their next major encounter at the masquerade had given him little more than that; the mask he had worn then wasn't just literal.

For once, he ironically felt like he had gotten a glimpse of the actual Kratzer.

It was funny how things worked like that - Vala had first seen what he was really like when he was being the Scarlet Lord. It had been that moment where he had faltered and started to slip up by saying her name that she finally got an idea of what Maahes - or, at the time, Leonardo Cartwright - was like.



While Maahes and James headed to the front of the church, Edward lingered by Engel and the growing group of people he was surrounded by. He could see the resemblance between him and the newest newcomer, and started to put the pieces together - this was the son that had been taken from Engel, and that meant the woman ordering the two around was the one who had been responsible for ruining his life.

Edward had figured out by this point that he wasn't a ghost anymore. He could be heard by those around him, which likely meant that he would be seen by them if he took this off. He could easily land a punch or two on her, but that wouldn't end well - he had lost the reassurance that he'd get out of the fight unscathed. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if he died again. What if his soul finally passed on this time, and he didn't get a chance to say goodbye to the people he cared about?

He clenched his hands into fists at his side. It wasn't fair! If he was still a ghost right now, he could have grabbed one of the books from one of the pews and chucked right at her horrible face. That would be the least of what she deserved. And if Schadel was here, she wouldn't have to worry about death - grim reapers could only be killed by their own kind.

Knowing that staying by Engel for any longer would only cause problems for his friend with the woman further down the road, he bit his lip beneath his bandages and joined the two up in the front of the church.

When he finally reached it, he threw himself on the pew and got to work taking the ridiculous get-up off. (He always knew it looked absolutely ridiculous, but it was one of the easiest ways to hide the truth.)

First came the clothes. He usually took them off with care, but they were covered in blood and he was frustrated at his helplessness. He threw them down in a messy heap on the ground beside his feet, and the sunglasses quickly joined them there too. Then he got to work removing the few bandages present - the ones around his wrists, always there in case his sleeves rolled up too far, and the ones that covered his neck and head.

Soon his actual appearance was revealed to the people present: a young man barely over 21, dressed in the worn and dirty uniform of a World War II American soldier. His auburn hair was cut close to his head, and his once blue eyes were now red as he glared down at his clothes.

Sevy watched Damascus closely as he went up to another angel. They quickly embraced, and Sevy smiled gently. He was very happy to see that he wasn't Damascus' only friend- he had been starting to suspect that that was the case for awhile now. Turning back to Aquarius, he shrugged and gave a causal answer.

"Biologically speaking, he's a demon, but the guy has a bigger heart than any human I know." If it had been anyone but Damascus who he had been revealing the identity of, he might have exercised caution, by he knew that his friend was all for being open. Not to mention, neither Aquarius or Grim were in a position to be completely shocked or repelled.

~~~

Damascus smiled into Boris' shoulder as he embraced him, trying to avoid the prickle of tears he felt behind his eyes at his comment.

"I- I've missed you." He murmered, clearing his throat against emotion.

After several moments, he pulled back, afraid that if the hug were to have lasted longer, he would be in danger of crying. Eyes shining, he smiled and looked Boris over.

"Jiminey, how've you been Boris? You look good." He paused. "Healthy, I mean. You look healthy."

Rose wanted to stop this, but she didn't know how. She joined the big group, placing herself between the gun and the other people.
"What is your problem?" She asked.

Cornyx's silver gaze turned on Melkyael, smiling coldly to reveal sharpened teeth. That itself was a plain message: he'd be after him the second Boomslang would let him.

Boomslang walked towards the front of the church where James had suggested gathering, Sieben by her side. Cornyx went to the same location and Melkyael did the same, though he gave the once-demons a wide berth. Kratzer leaned against the altar nonchalantly but it was clear that he was keeping his distance from Boomslang. His hands rested on the hilts of his silver knives.

Rose, the girl with the pink hair didn't know what to do as she stood there.
A few feet away a man introduced himself as Stan; he seemed alright
Siren smiled up at Rose, a toothy grin - teeth all white.
The fish woman was familiar, but what was peculiar was how she pushed her to the wall as she talked and before she could fall she stood ground and looked around.
"S-siren?" she asked, eyes wide, "Is that you?"
Back before it was Siren in her world, that much she knew. But now what could she do? Her tail not fluffy and huge, rather thin and black. Sleek, smooth and whack - she wanted her old tail back!
This place was weird, echoes reached her ears of a battle that took place near. She gulped down, looking back at Siren now.
"What is this place? And what happened to your face? You look different from back then in that forest place!"

Rose was confused. She couldn't trust anyone, there were to many people, and several of them seemed to hate each other. She walked to the front of the room, where there was an altar. She stood in front of it, letting her mind drift, trying to recall the events that had led up to this.