Zofia had it worse then most angels for the simple fact that she was suppose to be a guardian angel and now was forced to fight which was far from what she was use to as well as against her very nature. The humans that needed her and others like her were now left in the dust with their world turned upset down and torn apart, fighting to survive a war they were never truly a part of. The people were just caught in the middle as both angels and demons fought over the Earth in a never ending fight it would seem. In Zofia's mind, this fighting would never stop because without darkness there is no light and with no evil then good would not be the same. It hurt her to kill weather it was a demon or not because she wasn't meant to spill blood but to heal or comfort in time of need. 

She tried her best to avoid the fighting, healing other angels she found but what she learned early on when she arrived to Earth is that fighting could not be avoided forever. She had been healing a fellow angel when a demon had attacked her, leading to a fight with no outcome but the death of one of them and so to survive she had to do the very thing she had been against. Zofia still remembered the feeling of blood pouring onto her hands, the look on the demons face when she had stabbed him, and the worst of all...the gut twisting wrongness that waned to make her sick. Tears had spilled down her cheeks then as she made her way over to the other angel but it hadn't made her feel better when they had said she was amazing for killing that vile demon and saving their life twice. How could the other understand the pain she felt when doing that? There was no honor in this kind of fighting...innocent humans shouldn't have to suffer for a never ending war. A war that left many without a family no matter what race.

Nowadays Zofia lived like many other angels, a little apartment provided to call her own when she wasn't fighting. She was very different from how she had been in the past but only because she hid her feelings better then before. She was a skilled fighter now and could kill without tears or the look of emotion but that gut twisting feeling never had gone away. The only thing that helped lessen the pain was when healing others found hurt or dying. At the moment she was sitting on a park swing, hand on her sword as she took a moment to herself outside for once to just think and relax.

Vincent had no problems attacking angels and even saw a thrill in doing so. Angels had taken everything from the demons for far to long and he was sick of it just like the rest. True, there always would need to be angels but that didn't mean many of them had to survive. He had never taken the time to really ponder on the issues about the war and just fought for the hell of it. He had to admit that every once an awhile he found himself bored with this continuous on going fighting because there was nothing new to it. They killed but more would come and even if you changed it up a bit, getting creative with weapons only lasted so long.

Those were the things that had popped into his mind recently instead of truly enjoying the fighting like usual. It had made him ponder if there would ever really be a winner or a lessening of the enemies sides because there sure wasn't less demons roaming around. It irritated him to think this way but it was how it was. Vincent growled as he laid back on his bed, running his fingers through dark auburn red hair as he looked to the ceiling for answers that would probably never come to him. "I need to get the hell out of here." he stated before pushing himself off the bed. He quickly grabbed his weapon and headed out the door, chasing away his thoughts or at least tried to.