[b]Ratwing
Team B, Brimstone Avenue[/b]

Across the street from the corner, on a streetlamp, Ratwing crouched, staring intently at a terrified woman in a cafe. Earlier, he'd been perched down the street- there were a lot of "corners of Brimstone Avenue" to look for. This is where he'd perched for the past hour and a half or so, waiting for Big Red and the others among a few damned pigeons.  It was a somewhat disturbing sight- seeing the long, thin black legs bent at knees slightly above the crouching figure's head. The weird, oily black skin of a completely nude, yet entirely modest, demon glistening in the light. The mesh of meat and feathers that formed the closest thing to an article of clothing- a cape. The strange rainbow sheen of where the light hit him just right didn't help. He rubbing the three clawed fingers of his long, spindly hands together as if expecting something. But whatever he was expecting, it never came. 

Yes, he had been waiting here for quite some time. He'd been called here for some work, and while he had a steady income from all the damned pigeons, a couple of pigeon souls a second wasn't going to buy him that massage chair for his surveillance room. He'd gone in and ordered as a courtesy, and even used silverware when eating. But he was still mad. There were pigeons to monitor, especially in the northern cities- people always got a lot antsier this time of year, which often resulted in accidents and immoral behavior. It was not for a few moments before he came to a realization and turned his head 180 degrees, stretching his arm to scratch his head in his current posture. Eventually, he stretched and did a quick flit across the way, landing among the others as he began eating from a bag of corn.