Mysteriousmouse

A player with far too many characters!

mysteriousmouse, AKA Stephanie, currently plays all characters from that account.

Timezone: Mountain Standard Time (no Daylight Savings Time)

Mysteriousmouse's Characters


Warrick.jpg

Marcell frowned at him. “I heard some interesting complaints about you this morning.”

“Yeah?” Warrick asked. “Anything original?”

Marcell said, “I thought we agreed that I would handle the Vapulans, Warrick.”

You agreed that.”

“You promised to behave yourself.”

“I am behaving myself,” Warrick argued. “I haven’t broken any of them yet, have I?”

Warrick, Calabite of the War

Ofanite version


Marcell.gif

Marcell paced in front of the television, and complained. “They cheapen the pure experience of the War. Cut it down into bite-sized chunks for the consumption of a populous that will never make any significant contributions to it.”

Warrick, sitting on the couch, was trying to watch the explosions on screen. “Shh.”

Marcell said, “Our impressionable young would be much better off imitating real heroes of the War rather than whatever idol of the week the Media has decided to popularize. I’ve seen more stupidity caused by mindlessly aping the media-”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re interrupting the movie.”

“That movie is a travesty.”

“Well, I have to do something," Warrick said. "You won’t let me read science journals or overturn either large or small civilizations. You’re stifling me.”

Marcell, Balseraph of the War

Prince of Wrath


Jehovah-Nissi.jpg

“I killed my first human today,” young Jehovah-Nissi said.

“Oh dear,” Marsena said, frowning.

“He was sworn to Hell, unrepentant and purely evil.” The Laurentine was very quiet for a moment, then looked up at her beseechingly. “I feel guilty about it and I don’t understand why.”

She stared at him, then reached out to hug him. He received it stiffly, surprised. She told him, “Humans are special, that’s why. If you regret it, then that’s a good sign.”

“I know we’re supposed to remove Hellsworn,” he said, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “All my teachers said so. And Lord Laurence says they’re a cancer. But all I could feel was that we’d failed him.”

Jehovah-Nissi

Malakite of the Sword

Archangel of Deliverance


Marsena.jpg

“My more warlike brethren don’t consider me an honorable warrior in any case,” she said, and did not seem troubled by their opinion of her. “My weapons are tranquilizer darts, drugged cookies and love and forgiveness, freely offered.”

“And these,” he said.

She took her knife back from him and looked down at it. “Only when there are no other options.”

Marsena, Malakite of Flowers


Laurence, Archangel of the Sword

“It just seems strange and awful to be here and to be welcomed like this, after everything I’ve done to the Sword,” the new Ofanite said, spinning experimentally in place. He moved to rotate slowly around the listening Archangel, who stood with his great dark wings mantled close around him. “Just this year, I destroyed safe houses and redemption candidates. I blew up a Tether. I tortured and eviscerated a Soldier and left her to die in the street. I… I don’t deserve this.”

Laurence nodded. “You’ve done great wrongs against my Word and servitors, yes, but you have been granted a fresh start. Heaven does not punish the redeemed for their past deeds.”

“That’s not what they said in Hell,” the Ofanite said without thinking. He paled as the words registered. “I mean, not that they were right! Um, sir.”

Laurence raised an eyebrow. He said dryly, “I’m aware Hell has a tendency to paint us in a less than favorable light, yes.” His voice gentled a bit at the Ofanite's flinch. “Their claims are not true. God has forgiven you your sins. How could I, his servant, do less?”


Altair-1.png

Altair was silent a moment. He asked, “Where do Seraphim come from?”

Warrick blinked at him. “Heaven.”

“Is it nice there?”

Warrick said, “Well, you left it. You must not have liked it that much.”

Altair frowned. “You don’t know that. That’s just your opinion.”

“Why else would you leave?”

Altair looked perplexed, then brightened. “Maybe I didn’t mean to. Maybe I got lost.”

Altair, Outcast Seraph (Or Renegade Balseraph)


Brenneka, Calabite of Fire

He frowned at her. “Brenneka, you know that we can’t commit to a major project without getting approval from the upper ranks.”

She grinned. “A few blocks of TNT and a church isn’t a major project. Just something to do on a Saturday afternoon.”

“A few blocks of TNT and a possible Tether site?”


bashemathdraft3copy.jpg

Bashemath’s lips formed a moue. “Don’t look at me like I’m a psychotic murderer! You’ll hurt my feelings!”

“But you are a murderer,” he said.

“But not a psychotic one,” she said. “All my murders are grounded in the sound principle that death is awesome.”

Bashemath, Lilim of Death

Angel version


Ancilla, Balseraph of Lust


Shethar, Shedite of Technology

Angel version


Jeremy, Human

“I don’t want to be a Soldier,” Jeremy said.

“If you truly would prefer not to enlist, there are other capacities in which you might be of use,” the demon said.

“No, I mean I don’t want to be a Soldier. For you.”

“Ah.” The demon’s voice cooled perceptibly. “And what future do you see for yourself that could be greater than taking up arms for Hell?”

“I want to be an artist.”

The demon stared at him, momentarily speechless. “You want to be an artist.”

“A painter,” Jeremy added helpfully.


Hebron, Mercurian of Fire

The Balseraph bit her.

She jerked her hand away. She felt blood run down her fingers. She said, steadily, "You won't die if you truly repent. It will burn, but it's a cleansing fire. It's a forge on which you will be strengthened and rebuilt. The pain won't kill you, and it won't last."

"I don't believe you," the Balseraph said.

Hebron sighed. "I know. You're so wrapped up in lies that it's hard to see the truth."

The Balseraph blinked at that. He looked for a moment confused. He said in a small voice, "I used to know what Truth was."

"Yes," Hebron said.

He went on, "You'd tell me something and I'd say, yes, it's True. I'd know."

Hebron took a deep breath. "If you come home, the Truth will be yours again. You'll know again." She looked hopefully at him. "Please. Will you try?"

The Balseraph looked up at her slowly. "No."


Chemosh.jpg

Chemosh fretted. “Why was a Calabite sent on this mission at all? Sir, our equipment will never survive him!”

The Calabite in question said, “Well, if you’d use better materials…” His partner turned to glare at him.

Shethar said, “Chemosh, I expect obedience from my assistants and if you cannot handle working with the people I instruct you to, then I am sure a return trip to Tartarus could be arranged.”

Chemosh paled. “I’m sorry, sir. I can handle it, really. I just find Calabim… worrying.”

Shethar said, “I know. But this one seems tolerable enough. I have no doubt he will make himself useful.”

The assistant muttered, “What use can a Calabite possibly have?”

Chemosh, Impudite of Technology


Miletum, Calabite of the War


Eshek, Renegade Calabite

"Will you stop with the constant predictions of doom?" the Impudite snapped. "Sometimes I feel like you think the whole War is a pointless waste of time, like nothing anybody does will make a difference. Like anyone on either side who tries to accomplish anything is an utter fool."

Eshek observed the ranting Taker with bemusement.

"Is that what you think?" the other Renegade demanded. "Is it?!"

"Yes," said the Calabite.

"…Oh." The Impudite deflated slightly. "Well, it's not true."


Jacob, blessed soul

Jacob told him, licking the ice cream off his fingers, “When I got to Heaven the fluffwing said he was sorry for killing me, but I bit him anyway.”

The angel grinned. “That’s my boy.”


Benoni, Elohite of Destiny


Rosh-Shunem, Seraph of Dreams


Novalis, Archangel of Flowers

Novalis smiled wryly. “I’m afraid Laurence was not willing to leave us complete control over the situation and has assigned one of his Servitors to assist. So, as long as he’s been sent to keep an eye on us, I thought perhaps I should assign a guide to make sure he doesn’t wander into anything that might be distressing to him.”

Marsena nodded. “You want me to look out for him, Mother?”

“I do. You’re very good at working with other Words, dear, and hopefully he will be more willing to tolerate a Virtue. Servitors of the Sword usually are.” She continued, “Laurence has agreed, reluctantly, to use a Servitor already in the area instead of shipping someone in to take over. I’m afraid I don’t know much about the Servitor in question. If you could keep him out of our hair, that would be wonderful. At very least, try to keep him from our more sensitive operations. Laurence gets upset over such little things.”

"I’ll do my best to distract him, Mother,” Marsena promised.

The Archangel laughed. “Your best is very distracting indeed!”

Later Novalis would say, "When I told you to distract him, I didn’t expect you to be quite so physical about it.”


Adamah, Calabite of the Media


Zimran, Malakite of Creation

Cherub of Valor


Jahdo, Malakite of Laughter in service to Creation

Ofanite of Laughter


Dagger, reliever and Nemuel, Malakite of Dreams

Nemuel resisted to the urge to yell at the reliever that looked so happily up at him. He said instead, "You nearly died back there, do you realize that? There's a reason unsupervised Helpers aren't allowed out into Beleth's half of the Vale. It's dangerous! And you are a child!" The child didn't seem to hear him. It was so much smaller now, after its encounter with the Balseraph.

It chirped, "I won!"

"Won? You nearly died!" Nemuel said.

"But I killed it!" the reliever said. "I killed it all by myself and before it killed me!" It fluttered its wings proudly.

Nemuel said, "You were injured to the point of death. If I hadn't found you, you would've died out there, and no one would ever know what became of you."

The reliever was silent a moment. Nemuel hoped that he had finally gotten through to it. Then the reliever asked, "Can you show me how to skin a Balseraph?"

Nemuel stared at it. "…I am not teaching you to skin a Liar. You can learn that once you've fledged."

"But it's my first Balseraph. And that one is special, all the Malakim say so." The reliever adds happily, "Oh! Oh, can we make it into a jaunty hat?"

Later, as Nemuel sewed a reliever-sized balskin hat, he wondered whether little Dagger would ever survive to fledge. At least Nemuel had confiscated the stolen dagger that the reliever had named itself after. A child had no business running around with that sort of Talisman.

Dagger, reliever


Nemuel, Malakite of Dreams


Zurishaddai, Elohite of Stone


Bezaleel, Malakite of the Sword

"Won't your neighbors notice this?" the injured Virtue asked Bezaleel. He was missing half an arm, gut-wounded and thoroughly caked in blood.

"Probably not," Bezaleel said, holding the other virtue up as they walked. "We're at the back entrance, and my apartment is on the ground floor."

"Convenient." The Virtue winced as Bezaleel propped him up against the wall and went to unlock the door.

Bezaleel said cheerfully, "Oh, I tend to choose apartments more on ease of access than quality. If there's a demon in the street outside or I have to carry an unconscious body back to my room, the last thing I want is to take ten flights of stairs."

He fiddled with his keys a moment, and then pushed the door open. He returned to offer the other his shoulder to lean on. The injured Virtue took it gratefully, and they made their way slowly into the building.

When they reached his room at last, the injured angel said wearily, "Thank you, Brother. You've been a great help. It means a lot just to have a place to rest right now."

Bezaleel smiled. "It's no trouble at all! The couch is over there. Make yourself comfortable. …And in the morning, I'll even let you use my shower."


Mebunnai, Habbalite of Technology


Anala, Calabite of Nightmares


Button, Ofanite of Dreams


Anthony Preacher, human


Angela Sandler, human


Anonymous

Nurse

Officer

Dr. Evil and Shark

Man with lab coat

Woman with lab coat

Malakite


NPC's

Abijah, Elohite of the Sword.
The Eternal City, the Halls of Worship and the Church of the Sword
(PC Laurence, NPC Shimeon; w/Beth-haran)
The Eternal City, the Halls of Worship and the Church of the Sword
(PC Laurence; w/Liz)

Amaziah, Malakite bartender
bring out your blackwings~
(PCs Marsena and Jehovah-nissi; w/Sirocco)

Baal, Demon Prince of the War
blazing in scarlet battalions (PC Marcell; w/Beth-haran)

Carmi, reliever of Flowers
The Glade
(PC: Marsena, Novalis; w/Kitani)

Helez, Free Lilim
neon lights and city streets
(PC Bashemath, NPC Shelah; w/Eschafrel)

Jamie, human
Animal Shelter
(PC Warrick, NPCs Marianna and Paul; w/Hezekiah)

Liesel, Cherub of Lightning
wheels within wheels (PC Warrick; w/Jared)

Marianna, human
Animal Shelter
(PC Warrick, NPCs Jamie and Paul; w/Hezekiah)

Michael, Archangel of War
wheels within wheels (PC Warrick; w/Jared)

Paul, human
Animal Shelter
(PC Warrick, NPCs Jamie and Marianna; w/Hezekiah)

Patricia, Free Lilim
neon lights and city streets
(PC Bashemath; w/Eschafrel)

Sechu, Cherub of Flowers
The Glade
(PC: Marsena, Novalis; w/Kitani)

Shelah, Free Lilim
neon lights and city streets
(PC Bashemath, NPC Helez; w/Eschafrel)

Shimeon, Elohite of the Sword.
The Eternal City, the Halls of Worship and the Church of the Sword
(PC Laurence, NPC Abijah; w/Beth-haran)

Timon, Malakite of ?
bring out your blackwings~
(PCs Marsena and Jehovah-nissi; w/Sirocco)

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