Redthorn Anvil

Exodus

"I told you it was gonna sting, geez. You know for a supposedly hard-core warrior you sure do whine like a four-year-old. This little thing is nothing! Not even kid Demons cry about these. But then again, I suppose you lot don't let your children play with fellhounds or let them wrestle gristletooths when they're barely old enough to walk, do you?" She paused as if expecting a particular reaction out of her, then she grinned.
"I'm kidding, we don't actually do that either. I'm just giving you a bad time, hahaha. No worries, since it'll be risky to use magic on Terra for obvious reasons, I have a feeling this isn't the last time you'll get poked by one of these. You'll get over it. Well! You're all set to go! You should start to feel better in about forty-five minutes. Sorry, demonic medicine is considerably slower to show results than Angel magic. In the meantime, I'd suggest you stay near an accessible bathroom until you do feel better. Now shoo. Try not to give me a reason to poke you some more, yeah? This stuff is expensive and time-consuming to process!"

Exodus

The short adolescent demon looked up from another patient that was currently sacked out on a medical bed.

"Ain't you that Angel princess's bodyguard? The hell you taking orders from T'vor for?" She laughed. Clearly she had not yet been apprised of the current political status of the ship.
"Anyhow, lemme see what I got." She bounced over to a cabinet and started rummaging through things.
"Oh yeah, siddown somewhere; bed, chair, whatever. How ironic! Never heard of an Angel that was airsick!" She giggled at that. She seemed to be a highly energetic young lass.
"Totally normal for demons, ya'know, maybe somethin' to do with our love of techno-thingamawhatsits and junk. But totally not normal for Angels. Oh, whoops, that didn't make you feel any better about it, did it? Heh, my bad." She shot Azurael an embarrassed grin.
"I say though, it's about bloody time you lot understood how useful my medicine is! I mean really--what would happen if you had a whole load of dying Angel warriors on the battlefield and all your medics were on the verge of exhausting their energy trying to heal them all? Half of 'em would die, let me tell you. You lot could benefit from this kind of knowledge, you know!"
The young demon jogged back over to Azurael with a strange device that had a vial of some brightly-colored liquid attatched to the top.
"This is just gonna poke you with a teeny-weeny little needle. Yep, it's gonna sting, but it's way more preferable to puking every half hour, right? Yeah. Oh yeah, I'm Ariadel, by the way. You can call me that or any variation of it, I don't care. What's your name? Oh yeah, and why were you being bullied by that giant komodo, anyway?" Ari continued to spout even as she casually stuck Azurael's arm with the contraption. One could assume that by 'giant komodo' she was referring to the General.

Exodus

Grim turned his pointy-toothed smile on Azurael.
"Why so curious, miss Azurael?" He responded to her query with another query. He sniggered.
"Accidents do sometimes happen you know..." He added in an ominously suggestive tone. Looking around the room at the sudden uneasy glances being cast his way, his grin grew somewhat broader.
"Actually, I'm coming along because the realm of the dead must be relocated. I must find a suitable spot on Terra in which to relocate it to. Originally, it was located on Genesis, but, well, we all know about the situation there. So, I need to move it down to Terra. The dead are very excited about this new development, which is a nice change. They rarely get to have any fun, you know. Of course, there's always the ones that like to go Haunting when they're very bored, but I can't let them out and about for very long. You see, they would get too attatched to the loving world again, and then they would start causing me some trouble, so...Ah, but I'm digressing. I do enjoy a good chat with someone from the living realm." His grin became sheepish, and he rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.

The General's expression did not change.
"If you are quite finished, Grim, then I am sending Stormy to the infirmary to recover."

"Ah, yes, al'Talvor, quite finished. Hehe." Grim replied.

The corners of T'vor's mouth turned down slightly in a mild frown. He pointedly gestured at Azurael. "Go."

Greetings

Anyone named Gertrude who's biologically male should get eaten. Also, you lot remind me of a friend of mine.

Greetings

*sirs

Greetings

Sounds legit.

Exodus

Reworking

Name: Ariadel Deladrid

Nickname: Ari, Aria

Age: 18

Species: Demon

Job Position: Field Physician

Powers: other than her uncanny ability to heal the sick and injured, She does not appear to have any magical abilities. Most Demons don't.

History: Ari has long worked as a nurse for the Deadlands troops, even as a girl, she worked as an apprentice to her master, who was killed in a small skirmish out in the Deadlands. Since then, she's taken her duties as healer very seriously. She has a very extensive knowledge about the scientific healing arts, and proudly claims to anyone who voices concerns about her practices that she could do a better job of mending a person than any Whitewing voodoo doctor ever could. The price is that it takes longer.

Personality: She's very outspoken, bossy, and a little bit narcissistic about her talents as a healer. She takes pride in her practice, because as a general rule of thumb, Demons are terrible at the healing arts. Despite her attitude, she's very agreeable and generally very good-natured. She makes jibes about Whitewings frequently, but when it comes to her work, she'll heal Angels and Demons alike.

Pic/Description: She has three wings--abnormalities in wing growth are common among Demons, though the reason is is not known as to why that is. Her three wings are batlike.

Exodus

T'vor continued to monitor his screen for a moment or two, then swiveled in his chair to cast his hidden gaze at the deathly Angel that continued to stand idly in the doorway. There was a frown on T'vor's face.
"Do you have some other business here, Grim? Surely my navigators are not so incompetent that someone here is going to die."

Grim turned his ever-present grin on the General.
"Oh no, General. You have very competent pilots. And even if someone here was going to die, I couldn't tell you. Customer confidentiality and all that." He sniggered at his own joke.

T'vor's frown did not change. He didn't seem to appreciate the Grim's sense of humor.
"Right." He turned towards Azurael.
"If you get motion-sick, why didn't you see the physician? Or have you no faith our school of medicine?"

Exodus

Sephiroth nodded to the General. "Highwind." He said by way of farewell.

"Crescent." T'vor replied. The two of them went their separate ways. T'vor took his place at one of the consoles.

Sephiroth, meanwhile, left the room.

Grim, on the other hand, continued to lean casually against the wall, still grinning, despite his title. He was drumming two sets of long, boney fingers together in a plotting way. "This will be fun." He noted.

Exodus

"Hehehe...if you only knew, my dear Azurael. If you only knew..." he cackled for some time. "I know things about the future that would make you choke to death on your own tears of laughter. And then I would have to haul your soul away prematurely, so I think I won't tell you."

"That's probably wise." Sephiroth said. He looked to Azurael. "You've had dealings with the Grim, have you?"