Ronnie was standing outside the building, watching the miasma approach. He held a large, silver and gold plated cross, bracing it against the ground and either paw on the arm-spars. Ronnie, for the first time that day, looked happy.
Valentine was seated on the rooftop, a massive rifle in her grip. It was something she picked up from a demon smith way back when. A relic from when the idea of going to war with the mortals was still prevalent, it fired something known as a Purifier round; several magic-silver slugs encased in a sabot made from the bones of a demon. This round, theoretically, removes whatever demonic, or angelic, entity it strikes. The whole round was about the size of a toddler, and seemed to whisper when left out.