Six suspicious eyes turned to regard it, as muffled sounds of movement and tapping and annoyed mutterings were manifesting at an alarming rate. Liriel unwound herself from her serpent chair and slithered over to glare at the closet door. This had better not be one of those "helpful" teams of Creationers helping Lightning set up new Subway stations...
More shuffling happened inside, and with an annoyed scowl Liriel tore up the door to give whatever daft worker lurking inside a piece of her mind.
The words withered and died before ever making it into vocal form. Liriel could only stare in terrified astonishment at the dark, shady specter inside; a specter which incidentally echoed her stare and expression quite perfectly.
Frozen silence reigned as a mercury-scaled, blackwinged Balseraph goggled at a black-skinned, blackwinged manifestation of...of Divine Command; and the Archangel gaped back at the only Balseraph in existence he didn't dare skin on sight.
Liriel, who'd had loads of eons to perfect the art of being quick on the ball, was the first to regain enough control to speak. Still caught in a daze, but rapidly warming up to a remarkably intense temper, she whipped a response into line.
"Wha... What is the meaning of this, pray tell?"
With those words successfully uttered, she was ready to deliver the next thoughts on her mind without bothering to wait for an answer.
"If ... if this is some kind of subtle joke or hint from that, that... Entity you work for, regarding the terms "closet" and "Malakite", I would respectfully suggest that it is Not Funny!"
Her voice was reaching a pitch just shy of shrill as she continued with her angry harangue.
"Not to mention the sheer rudeness of showing up unannounced inside a lady's closet! Now I will thank you to take your immediate leave!" She slammed the door shut with a resounding bang just as Laurence opened his mouth, and, common sense finally breaking through righteous indignation, dove for the panic button.
"LILIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITH! JEAAAAAN!!!"
Michael looked up and raised a surprised eyebrow as Laurence marched into his inner office without knocking or greeting. Then he raised another three eyebrows as Laurence, still without speaking, tore open Michael's special cabinet and grabbed Michael's Special Bottle, poured himself a stiff one, downed it in one go and then poured himself another.
"Well, good morning to you too, Commander," Michael boomed and aimed a smirk at his friend.
Laurence turned and locked an angry, tormented gaze with the Firstborn.
"Heeey... Is that a lipstick mark on your cheek, Larry?" The smirk grew.
"She said ... She said 'Girls won't like you if you're persistent'. Why?! What did she mean by that?!" Laurence wailed as his composure hightailed it to another dimension.
Michael blinked. "She who?"
"Lilith!"
"...ah. I think you'd better settle down and tell me the whole story, kid."
Later, there was a rumour going around that Michael and Janus had had a couple of manifestations each incapacitated for well over an hour. The cause is said to have been acute mirth, but none of the involved have deigned to comment.