Redthorn Anvil

Exodus

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, dearie!" Grim's voice cackled. The reaper was standing in the doorway, but then he entered, allowing the door to slide shut behind him. Under the angel's hood, he wore a wide grin, revealing long, pearl-white teeth. He had unusually sharp canines, as though he had at one time filed them down into sharp points.

T'vor's head snapped around to fix his gaze on the strange man, his hand hovering just within reach of his shortspear.

Sephiroth merely raised an eyebrow. "I hope you aren't here for the souls of anyone I know." He said mildly.

"Not today, Sephiroth, not today. T'vor, you can put your hand down, you know. You don't really think you can kill me, do you?" The angel turned his wide grin on T'vor, however, the General did not move.

Grim grinned even wider, if that were even possible, before leaning against the nearest wall. "I am just keeping my reputation right now." He paused for effect, then suddenly dropped the grin. "Actually, the souls have no need of my care for the moment, so I got bored. Figured the living would have something more entertaining going on. Which has proven true."

Exodus

Sephiroth looked up from his work. "After I explained what had occurred earlier today to my General, we agreed that you'd been sorely taken advantage of. As Captain, you would, naturally, take your orders from him directly, but you would also have a small command of your own. I don't know much about the details, Highwind will have to fill you in on the details." Sephiroth told her. He went back to work.

Hearing his name used, the General turned to listen to the tail-end of Sephiroth's words, then noticed Azurael's dropped-jaw expression.
"Relax, Stormy, it's nothing special. If anything it's just an easier way for me to keep an eye on you. You get to have a job that's more familiar to you, and I get to see just how good--or bad--you really are." He told her.

Exodus

"Good." Sephiroth nodded, pulling out a toolbox. "I hear he wants to give you a better job as soon as the position is open. Something about needing a Guard Captain. You should ask him about it when you get the chance. He seems to think it would befit your skills far better than being an assistant engineer."

He took the toolbox over to one of the stations, whose monitor apparantly was malfuntioning, and so he went to work on it.

Exodus

Both the General and the Prince were also present that morning, and both looked up when Sasha began throwing her tantrum. General T'vor made a start, but Sephiroth held him back and approached the Princess.

He frowned. "So, the Angels send some diplomat to bargain with us for the shared use of our ships to take us from Genesis, to which we agreed, and now you cause us much trouble and attempt to disrupt our lives by arresting one of our citizens? You and your people are rather thankless, I believe." Clearly, he was a bit annoyed. He pointed at the workers around the room.
"You may be a princess, but you have no jurisdiction while my men strive to make sure that your royal skin gets transported safely. Not while you live under my asylum. So with all due respect, your Majesty, begone, while my mood is yet fair."

The General came to stand beside his Lord, arms crossed, to stare at the Princess with a stony expression. "Shall I escort her out, my Lord?" He asked.

"No. She knows where the door is." He replied acidly, then turned and walked away, rolling up his sleeves. He approached Azurael and Damien. "I see you two are getting along quite well. My General wasn't too hard on you, I hope?" He inquired as he opened a storage unit to rummage around.

General T'vor continued to stare down the Princess.

Exodus

Reworking

Name: al'Talvor

Nickname: T'vor

Age: 37

Species: Demon

Job Position: General of the Demon army

Power/s: 'Weightlessness'. His wings are too small to fly with, but like a hawk, he can glide for long distances. He is able to launch himself into the air with only the muscle of his legs.

History: T'vor grew up in the palace alongside the young Prince, though he lived with his father and the Palace Guard inside the castle barracks, instead of inside the Palace itself. When his father died in a skirmish against Angels, T'vor took his place as General, and has served in that capacity up until now.

Personality: T'vor is a difficult taskmaster, and makes a show of being hard to please, but he is rather a good judge of character. You can tell that he likes you if he picks on you the most. Though he'll make sure to pick on everyone. He likes to have a good ale once in awhile and loves to banter. He's coarse and will freely give insults, but he is a dependable man.

Pic/Desc:

Exodus

As the two of them were relieved of rheir shifts, the General hid an amused smile. That 'Azurael' would have no problems here, it seemed. She worked hard, and apparently, she could banter as well as any of his men. No, she'd have no problems here. But it would be a waste of talent to just keep her at doing gruntwork. He would have to find other work that befitted her skills.
"Get back to your flaming post!" He snapped at someone who was standing idle.
He chuckled quietly to himself.

Sephiroth had slept for only a few hours, but he wasn't tired when he woke once more. Again, he attempted to move his wing. The stiffness was gone, finally, so he re-sheathed it. He stood and stretched, then left his quarters to find his good friend. He found the General where he'd left him. In the control room. The men that worked under the man hardly even glanced up at him as they moved about, tending to their duties. Sephiroth had made it quite well known that he desired no special treatment when he was down here with them.

The General looked up, however. "Ah, Seph. Back so soon?"

The young Lord shrugged. "It was enough. So, did Azurael prove useful?"

"Ai, she may as well have been one of the men, the way she handled herself. She did more than well enough." He replied. "I've not seen anyone that put so much into their work, I think she may have even enjoyed it!"

"Good. So she managed not to get offended by your reputed mannerisms, did she?" The prince looked amused.

"Oh, you know. I have to keep them all their toes." The General replied, clearly amused as well.

"Aye, and a good job of it, too. Well then? Put me to work." The prince said, pushing up his sleeves. "That's an order."

Exodus

"Is that so? Well then, I guess you'll have to get friendly with your new co-workers, won't you? Go on, Stormy, there's no bloody time to be shy! The Exodus doesn't like to be kept waiting!"

Clearly, he was not going to lift a finger for her. Sephiroth had apparently meant it when he had warned her about having to work hard to earn any respect. It had once been said that Angels were quick to forget, but never forgave, and Demons were quick to forgive, but never forgot.

Stories claimed that, in the many battles between Angellic magic and Demonic ingenuity, the Demons were often pushed back and ended up with no other choice than to accept a ceasefire. Then they would start up again in a few centuries when they had made some attempts at rebuilding. They say that they had to rebuild so much, so often, that they began to forget how to wield magic, and that was how they came to posess such great technology, because they became great thinkers and builders, rather than students of magic, as the Angels had become.
Some claim that the Demons resent the Angels and blame them for their loss of magical ability, but Demons had started just as many wars as the Angels had.

The general mused on these thoughts as he watched his men work. The two races were polar opposites. That's all there was to it.
Still though, they also say that opposites attract. Perhaps the fighting would stop. Someday.

Exodus

"That's Lord Sephiroth to you, white-wing." Under the shadow of the demon's helm, his lips were morphed into a frown.
"But I have not known his Majesty to be a poor judge of character, so I'll ignore your slip, this time."

He turned and made his way to another station in the room, observing the monitor that was there.
"Bloody--! Who the blazes rigged this!?" He suddenly snapped, casting his gaze about the room.
One of the men jumped and quickly came to see what it was that the general had been looking at.

"If you can't bloody keep track of your duties, I'll bloody send you out the flaming airlock! Do you want this flaming ship to bloody explode?" He sighed, then returned to where he had left Azurael standing.

"Demons have no use for white-wings or their magic. If you want work, you need to prove to me that your wings are as black as the oil that our machines run on. Time to get your flaming white feathers dirty, woman!" He told her, gesturing to the control room they were in. "Let's see how you fare with black-wing magic. This flaming ship has a personality of her own, white-wing! You need to feel the rumble of her insatiable stomach, and feed her till she purrs. When she whines, give her attention. She's a sensitive lass, white-wing, and demands a lot of care."

He leaned against the wall and folded his arms. Clearly, he was tossing Azurael to the ocean to see if she could learn to swim.

Exodus

General Highwind was a tall man, but not much else could be determined about his features due to the plate armor he wore. He didn't seem to notice Azurael at first. That, or, he was ignoring her. He gestured at one soldier. "You. Come and take my place." He ordered. He stood from his seat as the man he'd spoken to quickly obeyed.

The General then turned to cast his gaze at Azurael. His expression was hidden.

"What do you want, white-wing?"

Exodus

Sephiroth shook his head once. "We are not quite so orderly as your people are, and do not frequently make use of uniforms. Our society is such that we simply make use with what we own. You may address the man as General Highwind, unless he gives you leave to do otherwise. You can't miss him; he looks like a walking dragon statue with a personality to match." He replied. "But before you go, since we are on the subject, what is your name?"