Quote:
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Originally Posted by Sylver
When she's done, she sits down beside the fire and composes herself, letting everything but the Symphony fade from her senses..
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((OOC forgive my hijacking the character just a little bit, didn't know how else to give a sensory impression. Will make changes as you see fit. Me, it's memories of working graveyard shift at a factory.--B))
It's sunrise in Los Angeles, sunrise on a Saturday morning where the commuters stay home in their far-flung suburbias and just a handful of graveyard shift workers visit a handful of donut shops on their way home to night-chilled beds. It's not as quiet as 4 a.m. usually is, the light giving a quality of noise that the foggy night lacks. Yet it is quiet, not work nor church calling, and just here and there some hyperactive children with their cartoons loud enough that if you listen carefully you can sing along from a block away.
To an angel the silence is something else. It is a chance to let physical ears rest and soul ears listen, to feel the new Essence come upon you and refresh your soul. To be Awake, in the Buddhist sense of the word. On such a morning Rina-el listens, Rina-el, leaving Jasmine in her metaphorical box for awhile.
The city sounds much as the city has always sounded. The demons make their clatter like wild things in the alleyways, all trash-can clatter and tomcat howl. Their volume is not increased much and its quality has a celebratory feel to it. Apparently they don't know their doom has landed, or maybe they don't care. Faintly she hears a martial drum, so faintly she might have missed it if she hadn't known it was there, knew the percussive sound of an Ofanim. Lupe sounded as a snare drum, unlike Corat's heartbeat, and in perfect time. They were on the move, and the sound got lost behind the Vapulan rhythm of a train going by, or was it
really a train going by, and her ears intruding on her higher senses?
The city had its own sound, like no other...