Something wicked this way comes... (Miracle/open)

[Loki]

(OOC – I took the position of the rift from what you had said in your previous thread, I assume this is to all worlds and not just Miracles? If I have that wrong, sorry. I can always change it to fit)

Loki narrowed his silver eyes as he scanned the bustling city below from his vantage point on one of the mountainous building structures the humans had crafted from stone and steel. Befouled air filled his lungs with every breath, the taint of poison and fumes from their metal contraptions stinking up the place and killing off any form of nature around it, save those warped and adapted to the loathsome place, twisted shells of what they were intended to be.

Humans… they were like a plague. Everywhere to be seen. Destroying, decaying and tainting everything they touched. Home their reek was bad enough, here it was intolerable.

He was well aware the world he stood in was no longer his own – or the one he currently called home anyway. He had passed through enough dimensions now – willing or otherwise, to recognise the shift in atmosphere when he was in someplace new. It had come as a surprise however. He had been caught up in a battle with one of his former brethren when the next thing he knew he had found himself in a stone tower, human yelling and running around like startled chickens. High on battlelust and disorientated, it hadn’t taken much to redirect his rage, and the idiot mortals had given him every excuse, trying to threaten him and demand he submit to their will…

A small, twisted, loving smirk stole over the fallen’s face as he ran a tender hand over the gleaming blade of his scythe. They had lasted but moment’s before Gydja’s wrath…

After that he had taken to the skies, flying far and wide to scope out this new world, to seek out those worthy of his interest. Which is what had brought him here at last.

Standing up, the former Angel stood and stretched his wings out once more, before clipping Gydja back into the holding straps on his back. That done the fallen moved over to the side of the building he was on, carefully choosing the one facing into an unused alleyway. Casually stepping off the edge, Loki used his wings to glide him silently and effortlessly down to the damp pavement, before casing them, the scythe between them disappearing with the huge feathery appendages. Giving a stretch and rolling his neck, he allowed himself a small wicked smirk.

Time to explore… There must be something in this world worth his interest…

Eyes opening again, the fallen angel stepped out of the alley into the busy American streets, his odd appearance drawing him a few looks before he was ultimately dismissed as just another gothic weirdo and everyone went about their day, oblivious to the monster walking amongst them.

[Miracle]

Up ahead a large crowd had gathered causing a need of police to be present to maintain order and control though there was nothing about the people in the crowd; the men, women or children who would have prompted any response from the police but they were here nonetheless. At the center of the gathered crowd was a child with long violet hair and eyes, dressed in white priestess robes her hand hovering over the people who came up to her. A faint white glow cast from the palm of her small hand and onto the body of the people that walked up to her. Healing them while at the same time forgiving them of their sins and sending them on their way.

The people who gathered around were all dressed in poor clothing and had no homes of their own. They were the people forgotten and left to starve on the streets of the city. On top of healing and forgiving them their sins, the High Priestess sent them off with a loaf of bread and fresh water to drink but told them, "Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again. But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life." Many there listening did not understand but the few that did left with a smile.

[Loki]

(I’m not sure what age Mirical is supposed to be, but I assume that you do mean a child, and not just a teenager?)

Loki paused in his tracks, eerie eyes narrowing as he sensed a raw power nearby. It was like a beacon, white light radiating through the smog and gloom of this moraless place. Turning his head, the fallen examined the crowd he could see gathering at the other end of the street. There. It was coming from there. Turning, he moved fluidly towards the gathering, prowling like a predator as he wound his way through the masses, any who thought to object quickly silenced by a deadly look and a caress of his own magic, his touch leaving the defenceless mortals feeling sick and filled with a primal fear, just as the Other’s magic soothed and comforted.

As he finally grew close enough to make out her form, the former angel raised a surprised eyebrow. It was a youngling – not even fledged yet, a nestling still. But she radiated pure energy like a pulsating sun. He could taste it on his tongue even from here. And not just purity – that in itself was something that he ached to taint, something that attracted him on an instinctive level – the answering shadow to her flame, not this was more that that… He could feel the hand of a God on her shoulder, guiding her hands, granting her power and the ability to wield it… and that made her more than a target to corrupt and taint. That made her his enemy, as guilty as those she served. For that sin she would die, as all the others he had found.

The fallen lingered a moment as he continued to study her, watching as she blessed, absolved and fed the cratons around her. He felt torn… for what she was, he wanted to destroy her, but there was a part of him deep within, the part that he usually crushed beneath his bloodlust, the part where the lingering echo’s of Maalik’s soul still resided, it objected to raising his blade to one so young. Nestlings were sacred, even those belonging to other races.

Still feeling somewhat ambivalent Loki moved closer to the girl, coming to a halt by her side as she blessed a toothless, half blind old man.

“Curious to see a being like you in a cesspit such as this,” he remarked in a velvet voice as the old man moved away, pinning the child with a fathomless stare. “Where do you come from I wonder?”

[Miracle]

((13 now to be exact.))

Miracle suddenly sensed something corruptible nearby infecting those who has already been healed by the forgiving and merciful hand of God but before she could inquire to its source another person would come up to her. One who's aura did not mesh with the others that surrounded her begging to be healed.

"Curious to see a being like you in a cesspit such as this. Where do you come from I wonder?"

"Why are you curious? I come the same as all creation, made in His image alongside those who come here to see me."

[Loki]

Loki bared his teeth in the semblance of a smile, but there was no warmth or kindness there – it was the true meaning of the facial grimace at its most primal level. A warning.

“Not just enslaved to your master then, but brainwashed too,” he remarked, tone cruelly mocking. “Just another puppet with its strings manipulated by the Gods for their own enjoyment. Tell me, youngling, what has your master ever done to deserve your loyalty?”

He was indulging himself just now – playing with her rather than lashing out instantly… How easy it would be to break this creature. She had power yes, but at the end of the day she was like any human. Weak. Fragile. So easily crushed. This one even more so than the others given her youth and size. Like a bird. He would never understand why the Gods so favoured this weak race over all others… He tilted his head to one side as he ran his silver, pupil-less gaze over her form in consideration.

[Miracle]

Miracle saw right through the phony smile and Loki would be able to tell as much with one glance into her eyes, eyes that were like a mother seeing right through their child misdeeds while they were lying to her face.

“Not just enslaved to your master then, but brainwashed too. Just another puppet with its strings manipulated by the Gods for their own enjoyment. Tell me, youngling, what has your master ever done to deserve your loyalty?”

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved."

[Loki]

Her look intrigued him. Most would have picked up on the sinister intention behind his ‘smile’ if only on an instinctive level, but this nestling looked at him in a way he had only seen on beings many times her age – one with intuitive knowledge. How deep did it go, he wondered? Could she see down into his soul with those old eyes of hers? See the twisted, blackened thing it now was?

At her reply, the fallen threw back his head and laughed, the sound a rough, grating one, clearly having not been used for a long time.

“Indeed!” he crowed, looking back at her with a wide, toothy grin, showing off his sharpened fangs, the gesture again sinister. “So very like a God – to give their own son, their flesh and blood, to whom they should owe the utmost loyalty, to save you wretched creatures. And you find that comforting? That he might turn on those closest to him for you? What then when he tires of your kind and your infinite mistakes? What will he do with you?”

He leaned closer, silver eyes glinting cruelly.

“You speak of the kindness of the Gods – and they can be kind. Merciful even. But they can be so very cruel to. If you need proof of that, look then to how he treats his own kin. And no kindness lasts forever. Your loyalty will only be repaid in the end with betrayal. It is their nature to cast aside lesser beings when they have outlived their usefulness.”

[Miracle]

“Indeed!”

Miracle noticed the fangs, that combined with his look would have made many think he was a vampire but her instincts told her otherwise. For starters it was the middle of the day and something told her his fall from grace was far more personal and dark than even a vampire could have experienced.

“So very like a God – to give their own son, their flesh and blood, to whom they should owe the utmost loyalty, to save you wretched creatures. And you find that comforting? That he might turn on those closest to him for you? What then when he tires of your kind and your infinite mistakes? What will he do with you?”

"Know therefore that the Lord thy God, he is God, the faithful God, which keepeth covenant and mercy with them that love him and keep his commandments to a thousand generations."

“You speak of the kindness of the Gods – and they can be kind. Merciful even. But they can be so very cruel to. If you need proof of that, look then to how he treats his own kin. And no kindness lasts forever. Your loyalty will only be repaid in the end with betrayal. It is their nature to cast aside lesser beings when they have outlived their usefulness.”

"Be it according to thy word: that thou mayest know that there is none like unto the Lord our God."

Another crowd has formed around the two to listen in on the argument, many of which were impressed by the child's knowledge of scripture and how she knew exactly what to say in response to the man's criticism of God, meanwhile others just gave the man strange looks for his Gothic appearance.

"For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

[Loki]

“None?” the fallen mocked, raising an eyebrow, his grin twisting into a sneer at the child’s ignorance. “None? There are hundreds of creatures out there that would call your God peer, powerful though they are, they are one of many, and while favoured, you whom worship them are like gnats. Easily crushed, each individual life worthless and quickly replaced.”

The fallen paused a moment, mulling over his own words.

“But you are favoured… I will give you that. Though your kind was born last to existence, born weak helpless and corruptible, your kind was born free, whilst all others was born into servitude. Why is that? Why are you who are little better than the rats that scuttle around your feet feeding off the corpses of greater beings, so special? What have you ever done to deserve that status above others?”

Sharp silver eyes pinned the child to her place, demanding an answer. It was a question that had plagued him… it was true humans were insignificant pawns, and that he had witnessed Gods massacring their followers in violent rages, but they were still the favoured children. His kind came first, but hers was the more revered… His kind, forever bound into slavery to the God that claimed them, while hers given the choice… It made his rage howl with the unfairness of it all. Holy beings might be the targets of his self-imposed mission in this existence, but humans he had a special hatred for…

[Miracle]

“None? There are hundreds of creatures out there that would call your God peer, powerful though they are, they are one of many, and while favoured, you whom worship them are like gnats. Easily crushed, each individual life worthless and quickly replaced.”

"Unto thee it was shewed, that thou mightest know that the Lord he is God; there is none else beside him."

“But you are favoured… I will give you that. Though your kind was born last to existence, born weak helpless and corruptible, your kind was born free, whilst all others was born into servitude. Why is that? Why are you who are little better than the rats that scuttle around your feet feeding off the corpses of greater beings, so special? What have you ever done to deserve that status above others?”

"Shall he that contendeth with the Almighty instruct him? he that reproveth God, let him answer it."

For Loki was not the first to question God's will. Nor would he be the last.

"Gird up thy loins now like a man: I will demand of thee, and declare thou unto me. Wilt thou also disannul my judgment? wilt thou condemn me, that thou mayest be righteous? Hast thou an arm like God? or canst thou thunder with a voice like him? Deck thyself now with majesty and excellency; and array thyself with glory and beauty. Cast abroad the rage of thy wrath: and behold every one that is proud, and abase him. Look on every one that is proud, and bring him low; and tread down the wicked in their place. Hide them in the dust together; and bind their faces in secret.

"Then will I also confess unto thee that thine own right hand can save thee. Behold now behemoth, which I made with thee; he eateth grass as an ox. Lo now, his strength is in his loins, and his force is in the navel of his belly. He moveth his tail like a cedar: the sinews of his stones are wrapped together. His bones are as strong pieces of brass; his bones are like bars of iron. He is the chief of the ways of God: he that made him can make his sword to approach unto him. Surely the mountains bring him forth food, where all the beasts of the field play. He lieth under the shady trees, in the covert of the reed, and fens. The shady trees cover him with their shadow; the willows of the brook compass him about. Behold, he drinketh up a river, and hasteth not: he trusteth that he can draw up Jordan into his mouth. He taketh it with his eyes: his nose pierceth through snares.

"Canst thou draw out leviathan with an hook? or his tongue with a cord which thou lettest down? Canst thou put an hook into his nose? or bore his jaw through with a thorn? Will he make many supplications unto thee? will he speak soft words unto thee? Will he make a covenant with thee? wilt thou take him for a servant for ever? Wilt thou play with him as with a bird? or wilt thou bind him for thy maidens? Shall the companions make a banquet of him? shall they part him among the merchants? Canst thou fill his skin with barbed irons? or his head with fish spears? Lay thine hand upon him, remember the battle, do no more. Behold, the hope of him is in vain: shall not one be cast down even at the sight of him? None is so fierce that dare stir him up: who then is able to stand before me?

"Who hath prevented me, that I should repay him? whatsoever is under the whole heaven is mine. I will not conceal his parts, nor his power, nor his comely proportion. Who can discover the face of his garment? or who can come to him with his double bridle? Who can open the doors of his face? his teeth are terrible round about. His scales are his pride, shut up together as with a close seal. One is so near to another, that no air can come between them. They are joined one to another, they stick together, that they cannot be sundered. By his neesings a light doth shine, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning. Out of his mouth go burning lamps, and sparks of fire leap out. Out of his nostrils goeth smoke, as out of a seething pot or caldron.

"His breath kindleth coals, and a flame goeth out of his mouth. In his neck remaineth strength, and sorrow is turned into joy before him. The flakes of his flesh are joined together: they are firm in themselves; they cannot be moved. His heart is as firm as a stone; yea, as hard as a piece of the nether millstone. When he raiseth up himself, the mighty are afraid: by reason of breakings they purify themselves. The sword of him that layeth at him cannot hold: the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon. He esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood. The arrow cannot make him flee: slingstones are turned with him into stubble. Darts are counted as stubble: he laugheth at the shaking of a spear. Sharp stones are under him: he spreadeth sharp pointed things upon the mire. He maketh the deep to boil like a pot: he maketh the sea like a pot of ointment. He maketh a path to shine after him; one would think the deep to be hoary. Upon earth there is not his like, who is made without fear. He beholdeth all high things: he is a king over all the children of pride."