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Post by π¨π°ππ₯π¦π― π΄πΆπ― on Apr 15, 2018 16:05:59 GMT -5
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Post by Smokey Feather on Apr 15, 2018 16:27:20 GMT -5
Hi :3 So since we're just going to jump in, would you like to start us off?
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Post by π¨π°ππ₯π¦π― π΄πΆπ― on Apr 15, 2018 16:47:05 GMT -5
( sure! I wasn't quite sure how to put him in a position where he'd be easy to interact with, but I did my best. and if you imagined him having been there for a few days or something, skipping ahead or getting me to rewrite this is fine by me! )
// Mezriel; The last thing Mez remembered when he woke up was a searing pain and a blinding light. He remembered a deep, booming, voice, and he remembered a coil of terror in his belly. What he didn't remember was how he'd ended up here, looking and feeling like a wet cat. He'd washed up on a beach, he could tell that much, and the sun was already setting. At least there was nobody else around to see his bruises and fresh scars. The first that had ever marred his otherwise perfect skin. Angels had a divine beauty beyond comprehension, one that didn't allow for imperfections such as scars. The fallen were celestial beings trapped in relatively powerless bodies, doomed to be driven insane by the adjustment or by the realities of immortality in a mortal world. They could be cut, they could scar and most importantly, they were easy to kill if you knew how.
Mezriel didn't have time to linger on that, not now. He had to get out of here before something came searching for him, He needed food and shelter and water and a dry set of clothes that looked like they belonged in this century and on this planet. He stood, but didn't walk away. His eye had caught on a single, cream feather lying beside him on the sand. The last piece of divinity he had, and the only way he'd ever get back home. He reached down to pick it up, scars screaming as he did. They were fresh, and though they were healing, he was far weaker than he'd ever been. Caught between human and angelic. He pressed a hand to his shirt where it clung to the raised scars. Despite himself, he'd expected wings. He didn't find them. He knew what he'd done. And even now, he did not regret it.
He sighed, allowing himself another moment to breathe before pushing on, crossing the sand and walking into the city. People were staring. A tall, fair man wearing grey clothes that were so wet they appeared black and walking barefoot through the city did not easily blend in. That was dangerous. It was a matter of time before someone discovered his arrival, and once one demon or vampire knew, they all would.
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Post by Smokey Feather on Apr 15, 2018 17:10:21 GMT -5
Bayard
Usually, demons liked to terrorize others. They liked to torture and watch things squirm. Not Bayard. He'd rather sit in the nearest Burger King, gorging himself on chicken burgers. His chest heaved a sigh, dark chocolate figure resting against the booth he'd decided to sit in. A sharp gray gaze lit up as his food was brought over, but he paused before he could eat. Most demons had to be within ten feet of an angel to detect them. But Bayard was miles away, and his lips curled in a smirk. At the idea of yet another deal, he simply ate his meal patiently before leaving. Fallen had nowhere to go, and nothing to do, so he could take his time. As he finally left the restaurant, he wondered about what the poor soul did to lose his grace. Standing up to his 5'8 height, his silver nose-ring glinted almost as much as the mischevious look in his matching silver gaze.
It did not take long for him to reach the other male. Walking out into the city, he made his way toward where he could sense the other creature. What a shame it was no longer a real angel. Their wings were the tastiest of treats when covered in ranch. He snickered at the thought, pausing again when he found what he was looking for. Simply walking up to match the pace of the other man, saying "What's a handsome thing like you doing down here? Surely your people wouldn't like to associate with mortals such as these?" A smile split his lips. "Oh, wait. That's because you lost a part of your manhood, right? And what a shame too. I find feathers to be a turn on." As they walked, he already noticed the other inhumans walking around. A lesser demon. A vampire. A witch. However, even though they were weaker than Bayard, they could kill... um... whatever the guy's name was. "You'r not going to last long down here, friend. Not without protection, either your own or someone else's."
Bayard was known for making deals. He protected lesser souls in exchange for promises or rewards which ranged to anything, and he meant ANYTHING. Snickering again, he told the fallen "You can't do sh*t against most things down here, but I'd be happy to help... for a price. And I'd consider making a deal with me, cause very soon you'll be sweating like a sinner in church once the filth around here catches you alone."
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Post by π¨π°ππ₯π¦π― π΄πΆπ― on Apr 16, 2018 10:39:02 GMT -5
// Mezriel; Mezriel had been on Earth before. It wasn't often, but he'd been sent down once or twice. It had been different, though. He'd had to worry about what might hunt him then, too, but not to this extent. Most stayed away from attempting to kill angels. They were desired prey, but you needed to be either incredibly powerful or incredibly reckless to actually go for it. There were those who could and had taken the lives of angels - seraphim had been losing their lives to greater demons for a long time, and Mez was pretty sure he'd heard of an angel being torn to shreds by a pack of wolves - but in general they were protected by their strength. Some of that remained. Mez was still stronger than any human could ever dream of being, faster, too. But his wings had been torn from his back, his grace bled from his veins.
Grace was an interesting thing. In the body of an angel, it offered some great power. All angels could use telekenisis and telepathy to their advantage but were graced with one additional ability. Some learned to slow time, others were imperious to any harm (those were difficult to handle if they went rouge as forcing them to fall was nearly, if not completely, impossible) and others still were able to shift forms. Most common, however, were additional psychic abilities. In another time, Mezriel had been capable of teleportation. As far as powers went, it was neither rare not flashy in the realm of angels, but it would have protected him here. Unfortunately, he didn't have it anymore. None of the rest, either. In the world of the inhuman, he was a weakling. Before, he could have snapped the witch eyeing him now in half without raising a hand. Now, all he could do was hope she decided not to approach him.
He was well aware of his powerlessness, and it put him on edge. So when a man approached him, Mez tensed up before he even realised this was a demon. And not a weak one, by the looks of things. He frowned, instinctively pulling away. "Who said I liked it? I'm not down here because it's such a great vacation spot, am I?" he said sharply, already searching for the fastest route of escape. His back was aching, that ruled out anything flashy. All he had was a pair of legs to carry him away. Not even worth trying. But the demon didn't try to hurt him. Instead, he offered a deal.
Mez wanted nothing to do with it. He didn't trust demons as far as to the end of his own nose. He had no faith that this one would keep his promise of protection. The demon was right, though. He had no other options. Maybe if he'd been in a better state right now, he could have collected himself and armed up, found others of his kind. They tended to clump together, he'd find them eventually and then he'd be safe. But right now, he couldn't go searching for them if he tried, and he was in no shape to fend off an attack. "You'd protect me?" he questioned, skeptical. "Why?"
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Post by Smokey Feather on Apr 17, 2018 7:41:09 GMT -5
Bayard
His lips curled in a sweet smile. "I like dangling debt over heads of creatures like you. I keep you safe, you remain on standby until I claim my promise. And no, it won't get your wings stripped again." As mischevious as he was, Bayard wasn't one to cause such trouble as to make an angel fall a second time. That rare happened, because fallen angels were already rather uncommon. He studied the fallen for a moment before looking ahead again. It was only a matter of time before something better came across in terms of opportunity. "Whether you make a deal with me or not though, I'll be tagging you. There are plenty of people who'd pay for your whereabouts. Heck, they'll probably just pay me to bring you to them. Better hurry before that happens." If they decided on something, Bayard wasn't going to sell the fallen out. He didn't backstab when it came to his deals. The idea made him sick, because it meant unhappy people who wouldn't want to repay him, and that meant he had to kill them.
"I'm quite good at keeping things safe," Bayard decided proudly "But my one condition is as stated earlier. A promise. I don't know what it'll be yet, but I just know that you'll owe me. And you can't say no. And who knows? You might like it, hm?" He snickered as he ran a hand through his hair, which was a small bush of tiny black curls. "I might not be one of you, but I'm definitely more reliable, in this sort of situation anyway. So, what do you say? I do hope you say yes, because if I have to save you later after you said no, you are not going to like what I do when I get my hands on you. I'm rather grabby." Though he was capable of doing things on his own, he had a terrible case of laziness. Nothing ever bothered him or messed with him unless he was stupid enough to stumble upon someone stronger, and there were a few in the city.
Bayard's brow arched when he noticed a few more low-life creatures showed up in the crowds. Sighing, he simply began to herd the fallen away, out of the area to somewhere else he knew to be a little safer. "Usually, I'd just force you into a deal, but I'm feeling quite nice today, because how often does one get to see something so hilarious and pitiful as a fallen angel? You must've done something rather bad if you got your wings ripped off." Perhaps if the fool struck a deal with him, he'd find out what happened to the poor thing. It was absolutely humiliating for an angel to lose their wings, if the higher-ups didn't kill them first. It almost made him feel bad for the fallen. Almost.
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Post by π¨π°ππ₯π¦π― π΄πΆπ― on Apr 17, 2018 13:02:50 GMT -5
urgh the forums deleted my post as I was posting it which is nice :)) I'll try my best to rewrite and post my reply tonight but given that I'm really unfocused today, it might not be until tomorrow? I do apologise in advance if that does happen!
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