Created by: "Chris Eng" <cje@axionet.com>
Just an idea, that was mullin' and creepin' and crawlin' around in my head and I liked it, so I worked it out. It's not perfect, but let me know what you think.
Corporeal Forces - 4 (Strength - 9, Agility 7) Ethereal Forces -- 4 (Intelligence - 10, Precision - 6) Celestial Forces - 5 (Will - 9, Perception - 11)
Vessels: Human/3 (adult female)
Corporeal Fighting/3, Ranged Weapon/3 (Pistol), Celestial Fighting/4, Detect Lies/3
Numinous Corpus - Wings/6, Song of Form (Ethereal/6), Song of Harmony (Ethereal/2)
Cherub of Blandine, Friend of Fire, Dream Walking, Smite
Colt .45 containing Song of Light (Celestial/5)
Spending an hour increasing a housewife's sense of self-worth. (+1)
"Leave the lady alone."
The lout, rather on the largish side, looked up at the comment. He'd been previously preoccupied with disciplining his wife, whom he'd just discovered was having an dalliance with one of his business partners (which he thought he'd deal with later - pleasure before business), but now he'd been interrupted by what - a woman in a housecoat and slippers? And in his office after business hours? He could have sworn he'd locked the door. He didn't have the time or energy to deal with her. He'd let this one off with a warning. "Get out of here! This isn't any of your business!"
"On the other hand," replied the woman with an even tone, as she pulled a .45 out of the pockets of the dressing gown, "this might be entirely my business." The room darkened a bit before she spoke again. "Let the lady go."
The lout froze and lost his grip on his wife, who remained sitting quietly on the floor, her gaze shifting back and forth between the participants.
"It's okay," the woman reassured Kathy, her gaze never wavering from the lout. "It's all okay, now." She extended her hand. "Come on," she urged. "It's going to be all right."
The wife shot a look at her husband and scrambled ungracefully to her feet, taking the woman's hand and using it as a brace.
The woman wrapped her arm around the beleaguered wife. "It's all right ..... I'm sorry, it's Kathy, isn't it?"
The wife, nodding robotically, looked up at her savior who, just for a second, seemed bathed in light.
"Hi, Kathy. I'm Suzanne. Oops. Your cheek is starting to bruise, we should get some ice on that. I know a place we can go to where you'll be okay, but we should go now."
The lout finally snapped out of it. Gun or no gun, he wasn't going to let himself get pushed around by a damn bag lady. She wouldn't have the guts to pull the trigger anyway. They were halfway to the door before he got anything out. "Hey! Where do you think you're going, you f***ing bitch?!"
Suzanne made a slow turn. "Oh yes. I'd almost forgotten about you. Well, that's not exactly true. I was just hoping mainly that you would keep shut so I could leave without a fuss. Still, one must take their pleasures where they can get them." She raised the .45 to shoulder level and looked down the barrel at him. "Tell me though, are you sorry for what you did - you self-serving, absusive, cro-magnon piece of sh!te?"
The lout fell to his knees and blanched. "Yes, I'm so sorry, I am so sorry, Kathy I'm sorry, I'm sorry, just come back to me, Oh God I'm sorry!"
"No, you're not, and never call on Him again." And there was a flash as bright as Heaven.
Suzanne both loves and hates her job. There are no other people that she would rather be close to and caring for than housewives, but it makes her infinitely sad that they are one of the most underappreciated and abused classes of people on the planet. In fact it fills her with so much rage, that she's forced to vent on almost a daily basis - and that, she thinks, isn't too bad. There are worse things that she could be doing with her time.
Suzanne's come a long way since being a servitor of Blandine, visiting housewives every night on the Marches - ensuring they had good dreams. She wasn't unhappy doing that either, but it gave her an immense feeling of helplessness. She could make their dreams better, but it was just a quick fix, not a cure for the problem. Over time she had a couple of discussions with servitors of Gabriel and eventually got an audience with the Archangel herself. Suzanne was convinced. Gabriel had assured her that by switching allegiances she would given the authority to be the remedy and not the band-aid. The only problem was what to do about Blandine.
The simplest solution was not tell her. Suzanne took her Heart one day and quietly moved it to the Citadel of Fire. Blandine was shocked and outraged to say the least, but she had seen it coming for a while - Suzanne is short on subtlety - and she wasn't going to start a war over it. Blandine just sent the word out to her servitors that appropriate steps were to be taken if Suzanne was ever caught in the Marches. The whole incident just basically reaffirmed her opinions about the rest of the Archangels.
Suzanne spends most of her time on Earth, hanging around and casing for possible prospects around Welfare offices and food banks. It's not that she doesn't realize that women from higher classes get abused (and if any battered wife gets brought to her attention, she'll take action), it's just that's where she's most comfortable. She spends most of her time cloaked behind the Ethereal Song of Form, preferring not to be seen (but puffing a cigarette - a peculiar affectation that she refuses to give up), but when she does go public she is generally seen in sweat suits, baggy t-shirts, or - preferably - a housecoat and slippers. They're just comfortable. If she has to get her point across really quickly, she'll flash her wings.
The first time that she went out operating under Gabriel's jurisdiction, she rescued a woman (Jessica, by name) from her drunk partner, snatching his gun away from him and pistol whipping him with it. When she tried to give it back to Jessica, later that night, Jessica refused, smiling, and thanked her, saying that she wouldn't need it anymore - she wouldn't be going back there. Suzanne, touched by the gesture, took the gun to her friend Joachim, a servant of Eli, and had him embed a Celestial Song of Light into it, transforming it into a Holy Instrument of Wrath.
Gabriel expects regular reports from Suzanne, but often lets her operate with autonomy because she knows that she does a quality job with her work. When designating assignments, Gabriel often keeps her in mind for the tougher or more demanding jobs. She knows Suzanne will be able to pull through.