As she walked, each citizen who she passed did seem to pay her some attention: an odd stare here, a pointing gesture there, but after a moment they would go back to their own activities. None of them stopped what they were doing on her account, but it was obvious that she did not belong. Some glanced at her with an expression of knowing sorrow, as if they perhaps had been in her place once, though rather they had or not remained to be seen as nobody quite knew if this woman was to become one of them, a new recruit in the slaughterhouse, or if she were here for some other reason.
Still, there was something else off about this town. All their actions seemed to be rehearsed, like part of a show. It was as if this woman had just walked on stage during a Broadway production and the actors and actresses didn't know how to react, but then, the show must go on. Still, the woman was there and it did throw them all a little off balance. As evidence of this, one child failed to catch the big, rubber ball that the group of children had been playing around. He'd easily caught the ball eight or nine times in the last few moments, and this mess-up obviously effected him. He dropped to his knees crying as the ball started rolling away, towards the woman.
Now, when a little kid is crying, you'd expect someone -- maybe his mother -- to react. But the women kept hanging their clothes, the men kept smoking their pipes. One little girl, with a look of sympathy on her face, started to walk towards the crying boy who had deposited himself on the ground, prepared to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but another boy with similar features, perhaps her brother -- they were both Zarethian -- reached out and stopped her, shaking his head. The boy on the ground kept crying.
One human child started walking towards the newcomer woman, prepared to grab the ball as it stopped near her feet. The actor was going to casually retrieve his prop. He stopped when the ball reached the woman's feet, glaring at her, paying her more attention than anyone else here had so far. He carefully studied her facial features. However; before he had a chance to speak or continue retrieving his ball, the sounds of the town were suddenly drowned out by the sound of a gong or bell of some sorts, the chiming of an invisible grandfather clock that had just now reached midnight. Panic filled the boy's eyes, and the eyes of everyone else in the town, and then, suddenly, they...
The women's hands were still reaching out towards the clotheslines. The little boy was still crying. The human kid was still staring at the newcomer. The men, seemingly knowing what was about to happen, had all had the common sense to take the pipes out of their mouths. The town itself wasn't in stasis, just the people. Their pipes still smoked, the clothes still gently vibrated in the strangely chilling but light breeze of Plex. Everyone but the newcomer had paused.
And then, someone started whistling. From the nearby house where many of the man sat still, in stasis, the door opened and a somewhat human-looking creature came out onto the porch. Only, he wasn't human at all. His hair was a golden blonde, and his entire skin seemed to literally glow brightly, strictly contrasting the normal darkness of Plex. The creature seemed to wear some sort of gown that only covered his front, like a hospital gown, only it was white, like a sheet. From his back, majestically wide, white, arching wings extended in either direction, extending out several feet from each side of him. This creature was an angel. Around his foot, there seemed to be a black cuff of some sorts, tightly locked to his ankle. Chains extended from the cuff, though not very far, into a small, six inch portal behind him that seemed to follow him around everywhere he went, lightly floating just above the ground.
The angel, a male with wavy but boyish hair, closed the door to the house above him, whistling the tune to what sounded like some sort of nursery rhyme as he snatched a pipe out of one of the frozen gentlemen's hands and took a whiff. He coughed slightly from the first puff -- he didn't smoke much -- but seemed to get the hang of it after his first puff. With the pipe in hand, the angel calmly and routinely continued walking, checking each of the faces of the men on the porch before leaving and further inspecting the town. If he noticed the newcomer, he said nothing as he walked over towards the group of kids.
He shook his head as he saw the frozen scene before him, the crying boy on the ground, his tears suspended upon his cheek, half-fallen. He walked over to the boy, sighing as he placed a hand on his shoulder. The moment he did, the boy unfroze. Panic on his face, he looked up at the angel above him.
"P-p-please," the boy spoke in Common, a language familiar to anyone who frequented the more populated parts of the Mortal Dimension, "Don't hurt me. I dropped the ball. I didn't mean too!"
"I'm sorry," the angel replied, in the same language, an unsympathetically cool tone to his voice, "But you know the rules. He's got to eat, too, you know. And if you can't do your job now, when the binding isn't even complete, what's to say that you won't do your job when you're needed? You're messing up the spell."
"But it was only just this once! I promise! It's all because of her! She distracted me!" the boy pleaded, pointing across the way towards the newcomer woman. "She distracted me, I promise!"
The angel noticed the newcomer now, turning his head to face her. The town was a small town, much like an old western town, consisting of only one "road", a wide ally between the two rows of buildings on either side of this town. This road, of course, was made of the same soil that covered the rest of Plex -- some sort of dark, almost muddy soil. The angel's eyes scanned the newcomer as he finally stood to full height, a massive seven foot tall. He touched the shoulder of the boy once more, and the boy froze again.
"And who might you be?" the angel questioned the woman.