Redthorn Anvil

Exodus

"N-no, it's fine...I just...um..." Chrissa trailed off again, returning to the act of hugging her knees. "Um, I think it was a bad idea for me to stay, miss Anuriel. I'll catch up with Mr. Narkissos later, when...when there's no one else around. People scare me, miss Anuriel... and, and...I just got this job, and I'm not ready for...that...yet...I just want to work, miss Anuriel, that's all..." She let out a sigh.

Exodus

Chrissa was shocked, twice. It was too much for her little self to wrap around. "U-um..." She couldn't say anything else. "Uh..." Her expression was one of surprise, confusion, and stress. She wrung her hands in agitation and nerves. "I-I...Um..." She couldn't get any words out. Finally, she stood rather abruptly. "E-excuse me...Um... I'm sorry!" She promptly spun around and fled back to the kitchen.
There, she hid behind one of the prep tables and sunk to the floor, breathing heavily. She knew Anuriel meant well, but...That was too much. Too much for her. She hugged her knees and tried to focus on calming herself.

Exodus

"N-no, really, it's my job..." Chrissa said, mostly adressing both the men that got up to help her. She was blushing furiously--no one had offered to help her with cleanup. She supposed the two of them were extraordinarily thoughtful men. She knew that Ma'ai was, to some degree, by how often he'd come to buy flowers for his sister and mother. He didn't know a thing about flowers, so he always had simply told her what the occasion was for, and let her arrange them appropriately for the occasion. The memory almost made her giggle. The other one--Damien? She had never met him before, but already she could see that he was the quiet sort. At least, he seemed very quiet to her. She didn't really know yet what she thought of him.
Soon, however, the mess was quickly disposed of, and she pulled up a chair to sit on the other side of the table from them.
"So, um..." she began, but quickly trailed off awkwardly. She wasn't used to this. Not at all.

Exodus

Finally, Chrissa emerged, carrying with her a small pot of chowder for Mr. Narkissos, and expertly balancing the plate of fruit she arranged for Anuriel and Damien.
"Sorry for the wait! I ended up adding chicken to the chowder as a last-minute decision..." She blushed in her embarrassment, then set everything down on the table for them. She noticed burnt breadcrumbs everywhere and Damien and Anuriel were laughing.
"Oh, um... I'll just, uh...clean that up..." She said, mostly to herself it seemed, then left again to find a broom. Which she did, and then got on the floor to sweep up their mess.

Exodus

Chrissa quickly ran off to get food started for the three of them--She arranged a plate of various kinds of fruit for Anuriel and Damien, and, setting that aside, she tried to think of something both quick and hearty for Mr. Narkissos. She smiled to herself. His was the first and only face she'd recognized since landing. Then she thought of all the thousands of people that didn't make it off the planet...She gritted her teeth and shook her head. She had work to do. She rolled up her sleeves, having decided what to make.
Cheese-potato chowder. She even had all the ingredients ready and waiting, and there was almost always a pot boiling on the stove. She dumped in everything she needed and set to work.

Grim cackled. "But of course you can, my dear Azurael--but don't talk to them! Spirits are either very shy, or very hostile. Wouldn't want the latter of the two to decide to go rampaging about! Ehehehehehe!" And with that, the odd Angel faded into the shadows.

T'vor let his hand drop from his sword. "I don't like him." He growled.

Sephiroth looked amused. He gestured to the tent's exit. "Shall wee see what Grim can do for us?"

Exodus

Reworking

Name: Unknown

Nickname: Ra'sha

Age: between 20-25

Gender: unknown, but is female. Presumed male by most parties.

Occupation: None, currently. Generally feared by Angels and Demons alike.

History: Ra'sha was a former military officer who became renown for her lust for Demon blood. She slew many Demons in the war, and it is rumored that she took the blood of her enemies and forged from it a sword with the power to absorb the lifeforce of anyone she kills with that sword. This rumor is true, but what is not so commonly known is that by creating the sword, she had to give up all magical ability.

Personality: Generally dislikes the world, but put her in a life-or-death situations, and she relishes the thrill. Has an equal animosity for Angels, Demons, and Hybrids alike. She simply enjoys killing Demons more because they are her opposite. Should be treated with care, and one should consider not putting her on their trustworthy list. She goes and does as she pleases, and answers to no authority over her own. If she agrees to a favor, it is because it is in her interest to do so. She isn't necessarily violent, however. Only on the battlefield.

Exodus

Chrissa was shocked.
"Oh my g--Ma'ai!" She was as red as the roses she used to use in her arrangements.
"I mean, uh, Mr. Narkissos! I can't believe it!" She glanced at Anuriel, then coughed awkwardly.
"Um, uh, let me just get the fruit for my boss, okay? And--oh! Right, sorry--um, what can I get started for you? If miss Anuriel says it's okay, I could take my break a little early if, you know, you wanted me to stay and chat for a bit..." She glanced at Anuriel.

Exodus

"Yes, I know! It's really quite exciting! Hehehehehe..." Grim rubbed his pale, bony hands together.
"We'll be happy to lend you a hand--or several hundred of them! Whichever!"

T'vor scowled.
"We?"

Grim scoffed.
"Why, the dead, of course! They haven't been outside for years, some of them for millions of years! They'd just love a chance to stretch their legs a bit!"

"Um, right away, miss Anuriel!" Chrissa bolted for the kitchen, then remembered the dark-haired Angel. She blushed furiously in embarrassment and sheepishly approached the man.
"Can I take your order, sir?"
Something was definitely familiar about him.

Exodus

"Perhaps." T'vor replied, musing. "If we can scrape up a work crew."

Sephiroth tapped his friend's shoulder.
"I think I can help with that. Or rather, I think he can." He gestured to a figure standing just beside his shoulder.

It was Grim.
"You called, Azurael?"
He grinned.

"Hello, miss Anuriel! Sorry, I was handing out orders!" Chrissa marched out of the kitchen to meet the head chef. When she saw Damien, however, she suddenly seemed nervous. She was a very shy lass, and was always on edge around strangers.
"Um, if you're hungry, I can make something up really quick for you?" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another man walk in, also with purplish-colored hair. Yet...he was an Angel?
She frowned. He reminded her of someone...but couldn't place her finger on it quite. She returned her attention to her boss.
"Or, um, you know, I can just take your order?" She grabbed her pen and pad of paper.

Exodus

T'vor shook his head.
"The humans would hear the explosion and that would lead them right to it, and they'd still find the wreckage and salvage parts from it, and then they'd know that we're not human. No, if anything, that would only help them find us faster. The ship is cloaked, and we are hidden in this pocket dimension. Even if they find the place where we landed, or even where we're staying, they'll never see the ship, or us. So no, explosives would not be helpful in this case." He turned to Ma'ai.
"Go take a break. You've done well, but this is far from over yet."

It was then, however, that Sephiroth approached the dark-haired Angel.
"I would offer you my thanks. You put yourself in considerable danger for the well-being of your people. I think I can safely speak for us all when I say that you've done us a great service for bringing this information to us."