Post by Uriel Camael Mikhail on Mar 31, 2013 5:49:25 GMT -5
The Empousai had found them both. The ones who her mistress wanted some information on. A smile crossed her lips, yes. She would be most proud of course. Her mistress did not tolerate such tardiness. They were to report, immediately. She couldn't believe it. Her mistress, such a powerful creature sent all of her minions to find a lowly demigod. Well, a special demigod apparently. She smelled him. Powerful no doubt. But, she didn't know why she would waste such time in trying to find him. A grudge perhaps? Killed her protege? Well, she had dozens of protege's now. Why waste such resources on finding a single boy? She cannot comprehend. But, who was she to question the Empousa Imperatrix? She was the most powerful, after all. And yes, she was deathly afraid of her. And now, here she stood, in front of the abandoned warehouse in New Jersey. The warehouse was really abandoned, but looked well kept. It didn't have any broken windows. It looks habitable, but you'd know it's abandoned, since it gives off an eerie feeling. As if you just didn't want to go there.[/size]
And yet, she had the guts. She walked forwards, ignoring the eerie feeling creeping at her skin. And, once she reached the huge doors, she placed her hand on the door, The moment she did, the door opened, revealing two men in these black-hued great coats, with their hands in iron-like gloves. In their right arms are what seemed to be scoped Steyr AUG rifles. And, for some reason; they were taller than most males. The two glared at her figure. Well, it's not like strawberry blonde haired women walked in on them. She pursed her full red lips, pouting at them, her hands on her defined hips. And she just raised an eyebrow. The two men exchanged looks before nodding, and stepping right out of her way. The moment she stepped in, the whole warehouse averted their gazes at her. Some women were sitting on the men's laps. And laughter, mixed with the smell of alcohol and different perfumes filled the air. She looked around, and some men were on patrol, most were flirting with her fellow Empousa. It's a shame they weren't ripping their throats out. Shame shame shame. But as she approached the northern part of the warehouse, where most women were gathered at, and two men stood by the side, unmoving. They kept laughing, as if hilarity was oozing out of that certain place. The moment she was a mere two feet away, the laughter stopped, and the women parted. Revealing a rather large seat, engrossed with a purple cloth, and amethyst's. The throne was huge, and it was out of place. What would that be doing there? And that's not the beautiful part, either. On the seat, was a woman, with her legs crossed, her long legs radiated through her purple coat which seemed to have covered most of her body. The woman stood from her seat, and it seemed that she was wearing high-pointed heels. And her face; gods her face. Her burgundy hair covered the left side of her ever flawless face. She looked like a marble statue, with her blue eyes acting as the glowing gemstone. She looked beautiful. Much more beautiful than the other empousa. Her red lips pursed as she spoke, her heavy French accent coming out of her words.
“Oui my dear? Please tell me you bring good news?” The woman asked. And even for her, the voice was rich. Fulfilling. Beautiful. As if from Apollo's harp. She nodded, hanging her head down. “Y-yes Lady Mistral. He is near here. In Long Island. “She spoke, courteous and humble. The French woman seemed delighted, her white as snow skin shining like porcelain. She seemed so fragile, so beautiful. Her beauty was a cross between the Neo-Classical Renaissance Beauty, like Valeria Messalina, Marie Antoinette and Simonetta Vespucci. With a tinge of old school beauty; like Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn. And you could even see the hint of modern beauty. The sort of beauty which was natural among female teenagers. The beauty you'd see on the young girls on Social networking sites, like those Emo-sort Site Model of girls with their unusually fluffy hair and those huge eyes that made them look like dolls. She had all of those qualities flashing on her face. Which seemed odd. It's like she adapted these beauties through out the ages. Her smile brightened, and it looked like a thousand cars flashed their headlights at her, well it was an exaggeration. Maybe just a few dozens. She twirled and raised her arms from her huge coat, which were clad in some sort of leather, only going to her palms with some thin line, exposing her well-manicured hands. She released a rich laugh, which seemed to silence everyone. Even the men. She dropped her outstretched arms and walked onto a sort of abandoned catwalk which divided the whole room in half. The blonde empousa looked on as their Mistress, Mistral, the Cold Winds of France spoke.
“Sisters...and our champions!” She spoke, a small smirk on her face. The men seemed pleased. Yeah right. They all knew they were just there for toys and fun. She smirked and continued speaking. “In our great efforts and hard work, we finally reached our destination! Our target!: The whole crowd kept silent, as the woman stalked. Her pointed heels no problem as she stepped off. Her gaze upwards. “He dared defy my will, and now we go for something he loves the most! His little wench!” The crowd actually cheered as she laughed. As cold as her name implied. Mistral, the cold wind of France. She raised both her arms, and she spoke “Tonight ,we re-deploy! To kill Uriel Mikhail and his wench! Oui my dearest! Stand up and go to war against those damned Demigods!” The whole crowd cheered as they stood. But Mistral just had a cold hard smile on her face. And now there they stand. In awe. Wanting to destroy the boy this woman was talking about.
