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Reiko Iwamaru

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Post: 95746729_646 created on Sun, 24 May 2015 04:14:40 +0000
Posted: Sun, 24 May 2015 04:14:40 +0000

ExplicitSqueaks

TrustMeImAnEngineer

مرح☪☥✾☾Ａｂｄｕｌ－Ｒａｈｉｍ☾Ａｌｔａｆ☾Ｌｕｔｆｉ☾✾☥☪مرح

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx►► Rahim, Tank, Luffy, Fluffy, Hippie, Weirdo, Twiggy, Mr. Nice Guy.

طفولي☪☥✾☾The Childish Werewolf☾✾☥☪طفولي

☪☥✾☾☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☾✾☥☪

☪☥✾☾~I am a little bit of loneliness, a little bit of disregard; handful of complaints, but I can’t help the fact that everyone can see these scars. I am what I want you to want what I want you to feel, but it's like no matter what I do, I can't convince you to just believe this is real. So I let go, watching you, turn your back like you always do. I can't feel the way I did before, Time won't heal this damage anymore...~☾✾☥☪

☪☥✾☾☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☾✾☥☪

With Rahim, it was a random herd of mood-swings: depressed one minute, confused the next, then a total cry-baby to being overly ecstatic over Alister's appearance. He paused for a minute when he looked back at the girl he was with: she was in shock. 'Wait...why is she scared? What's wrong? What happened?' It would appear Rahim did not know he had transformed into a wolf.
Rahim perked his wolf ears upwards, aimed towards the girl, then feeling the pressure of Alister pushing hard enough to escape Rahim's semi-mighty wolf grasp. Stepping off of Alister, Rahim turned towards the girl and slowly limped forward, wondering why she was scared. Then, he tried to speak: "Arrrrr RUUFF WOOF." His eyes widened, now just realizing he had turned into a wolf.

Whimpering, Rahim flattened his ears in embarrassment and fear, quickly backing away and tripping over his own feet, doing a flip and falling flat on his belly upon his aftermath of clumsiness. He shook his head, then looked at Alister and tried to get up, only to see the beautiful red butterfly land on his snout. Amazed by this sight, Rahim sat down on his hauches and pinned his ears back in awe, instantly forgetting his embarrassment and the reality of that moment. Then, he stopped and saw behind the butterfly's wings that the girl was on the concrete, terrified of Rahim's supposed-to-a-be-secret. Soon, it instantly dawned on him that he had transformed, and he stood up, slowly limping towards the girl and sitting beside her, licking her hand; it seems he was trying to make amends.
Flattening his ears again, Rahim whimpered and lowered his head down on the concrete, closing his eyes as water began to soak his furry wolf cheeks: he was crying. Distressed, because he accidentally revealed himself, and crying because of how embarrassed he was. Slowly getting up, Rahim shook his fur off, shaking off any ants or bugs that got into his fur as he laid there on the concrete beside the girl, turned towards Alister with a saddened expression and flattened ears, then turned away and began to slowly limp away, unsure of how to turn himself back into a human, since he still had no control over his power.

☪☥✾☾☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☾✾☥☪

☪☥✾☾~I am a little bit insecure, a little unconfident, 'cause you don't understand I do what I can, but sometimes I don't make sense. I am what you never wanna say, but I've never had a doubt. It's like no matter what I do, I can't convince you for once just to hear me out. So I let go, watching you, turn your back like you always do;
face away and pretend that I'm not. Time won't heal this damage anymore, I can't feel the way I did before...!~☾✾☥☪

☪☥✾☾☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☀☥☾✾☥☪

((O.O.C: Sorry for the wait! Caught up a bit in school stuff =w=))

Theme Song: Faint | Linkin Park

Currently Feeling: Conscious; semi-cheerful, embarrassed, depressed, entranced, worried.

Current Outfit: Black beanie with a skull at the side, that sat on his head, a plain white T-shirt, black back-brace around the lower abdomen, black jeans,leg-cast on left leg up to knee-cap, black converse shoe(s), black ivory belt. Has medical patches on both his left and right hands, both palm and top, his right cheek, the back and left side of his neck, above his left eye, on his chest above his right collar-bone, on his stomach, and on his back.

Whereabouts: Alleyway ----& outside the alley-way and on the side-walk.

Companionships: Alister and Purity -----& no one

Specimen Identification: Werewolf.

Wolf Form: Active/Inactive/Middle

Music Box: A Celtic Lore | Adrian von Ziegler

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Post: 95746729_647 created on Sun, 24 May 2015 05:12:55 +0000
Posted: Sun, 24 May 2015 05:12:55 +0000

He skinned me alive, ripped me apart
xxxxxxxx Scattered my ashes, buried my heart

a r c h a n g e l || o f || w a r
The first Angel created by God, Michael is the leader of all the Archangels and is in charge of protection, courage, strength, truth and integrity.

From the side of the church, one of the confessionals burst open. A snake moved out from the wood, and slithered toward them and a woman with a strange looking armor helmet stood among the debris. The snake nearly snapped at the humans, before it was commanded to stop. Michael's face twisted into disapproval. There was just something about snakes that made Michael cringe a little He didn't really know how to handle the creature of such a size being around him. It looked unholy and in the back of his mind, he hoped it didn't touch him.

“What sort of angel are you? …St. Michael the Archangel Surrender us in battle? No no this will never do on your feet up! Up! “ Michael's jaw gritted together in a tight clench. His response was his silence. He supposed God saw to it that he received practice for being able to take criticism. Michael found himself getting put down a lot today, and of course the moment he surrendered and stopped fighting he got even more. It was the universal lesson of never, ever praying for patience, for God would not bestow the ability itself, but only the opportunity to be patient. The same could be said for Michael's hard headed temper. His feathers were so easily ruffled, and under his thick layer of muscles his feeling felt just as delicately swayed.

His experiences on earth lately had not been as smooth as he would have liked. "Whats it to you? I don't see why you care what sort of Angel I am, demon." Michael managed, only to have Levi shove him to his feet. "ewh-"Michael muttered under his breath as he stumbled forward to his feet. "God forgives his humans, not for his Angels." Michael's eyes darted to the other side of the room where Jericho stood. "Just as the Devil isn't able to receive forgiveness due to the fact that Lucifer was never human. He was an angel. " Michael snapped. "...Every decent demon should know that." he muttered even softer.

His head turned to the human, only to see the barrel of the gun pointed in his direction. His eyes narrowed down the barrel of the gun, seeing only darkness in the black hole. There was a loud 'BANG' and a flash of light, and for a moment Michael heard nothing but a loud ringing. His eyes blinked with a sub-conscious force as his stomach leaped up into his lungs within seconds. To his amazement- he wasn't shot this time. He turned his upper body to see the snake behind him was the thing the human was shooting at. Kessler, as he introduced, made a minor remark about his father and Michael pointed a hard finger at him. "You should honor thy mother and thy father, mon Kessler." The human scolded him and Michael's eyes trailed up to the ceiling in a sort of rhetorical confusion and bafflement. Everyone was scolding him- everyone! "I'm not sure what you are in thanks for, as I am not sure what it is you do not what me to do again." Michael stated as his eyes trailed back to the male before him.

The human held out his hand, assuming that he wanted Michael to do the same. Michael paused before he decided to mimic the gesture. They shook hands, and as soon as they did a light formed between their clasped hands. Michael's face turned worried, unsure of what had just taken place. His body felt weak all over, and his immortality felt-...distant. His skin lost a bit of its glow and he felt instantly tired. Normally he felt rather light on his feet and as Kessler let go of his hand, he felt so oddly grounded to the earth and heavy. His heart was heavy, and it was a little strange as to why.

He pulled his hand away and looked upon his palm, finding the light- gone. his wrist however had a small brown mark that grew along his skin. It was as if an insivible hand was writing on his arm, and the ink was golden brown.The mark swirled and moved along his forearm in a henna like design, and to Michael's amazement- letters were formed.
From what he could see in single glance the words that moved around his arm were in Latin.

"Soul bound to the earth,
fallen from from the sky,
an angel is sworn oath,
for humans he should die.
For protection,
For courage,
For Love,
and for strength
til the end until both shall be bequeathed a saint."

A spell? How had he been trapped by a spell? Michael glanced to his other arm, finding more writing that was crawling up his forearm and stopped just before his elbow. Michael looked up to Kessler in question, wondering how it was he had been tricked into such ancient magic. he should have suspected as much when he realized he was summoned with blood. What sort of forgotten practice did such a man learn this skill? The rest of the exchange with Jericho, the female demon with the snake were lost to Michael. Mostly because he was too busy turning his arms over in front of him to look at the odd looking tattoo that was branded on his skin.

_________________________________________________________________

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

l o ca t i o n: A church apartment____________________T a l k i n g to: Kessler/ Jericho/ Memphi

Pray to your god, open your heart xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark xxxxxxxxxxxxx

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Post: 95746729_649 created on Sun, 24 May 2015 07:30:48 +0000
Posted: Sun, 24 May 2015 07:30:48 +0000

" Me and God, we don't get along so you see ....."
“Had you one kiss from my clay cold lips,You're time would not be long"
~ Every now and then, she makes you just a little bit crazy. She'll turn a knife into your back and then she's calling you babe ~

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Leviathans body coiled quickly after the gun shot caused the serpent to rear back knocking over the alter behind him. It didn’t taken kindly to being shot at without the ability to retaliate. Levi opened its mouth revealing its teeth before attempting to spit venom at the human

“... Levi! hic iam”] The demon snapped bringing her demonic serpent to heel. “Peractum est abyssus foramen ad cineres ignis atque de reditu ad wence nigrescere veneris ostium.”

Her summoned beast burst apart as it was sent away. Its body dispersed into a thousands of tiny snakes slithering about the church. It looked like a micro plague of Egypt in the church as the snakes slithered about looking for holes to get out of. Some slithered to the front door and the open window. They paid no mind to those inside not as they made their escape. One snake slithered its way up the woman’s boot before disappearing under her shirt. There was a small blood stain from the hole it had once crawled out. Anja’s familiar was back in its intestine where it would sleep till she needed it again.

Anja laughed at the mention of tentacle rape “…oh clever and stupid …Levi’s no octopus, but you wouldn’t know what a puss was. “ The demon commented as she drew her keys back into her pocket. “Unless you are going to use that red middle finger for a rectal exam. I don’t see how you could possibly help him. “The demoness addressed Jericho as he continued to flap his gums. She shook her head disapproving. “If he asks you to bend over turn your head and cough. Then you know you have a problem...” She forewarned Kush not wanting him possible probing that could come.

“Go back to St.Judes or whatever make a wish foundation you crawled out of. You can’t help him It’s in his head ….You haven’t been able to fix your own rare disorder of getting your head out of your a**.” Mephi said with an amused smile as the boy helped the angel up. Something was happening that she was only beginning to try and understand. The boy had summoned the arch angle with old magic seemingly by chance. Anja had to look away as the bright light flashed it wasn’t for her sorts eyes. She looked back not able to help but stare till the gun was drawn . However she glanced at Michael seeing that he was just as confused.

If the archangel didn’t understand what was being played at then she’d make an educated guess” …I’m just passing through” Mephi replied as she raised her hands slowly in defense “ …After all there’s no soul here to fight over….you’ve already made a deal” Anja said in a clam voice. With slow cautious movements she began to move around Kessler and Michael keeping her hands just in front of her. “ I believe we’ve lost our little lamb to a different flock….congratulations you’ve sold your soul to an archangel. That must be brownie points for the afterlife. “Anja admitted as she wasn’t sure what the exchange was, but put it in the terms of a deal with a demon. It wouldn’t be beyond the realm of possibilities.

The demon backed away keeping herself facing the three men. Mephistopheles was outnumbered and never in tending for a fight. “Now, I’m going to go …slip out this window back to my bike. You’ll be happy to know this little visit was not planned .After all, I was harmlessly napping in the confessional when you came in here. All three of you came in here might I add….great back side by the way Michael- “Mephistopheles said as she suddenly darted out the window.

Anju was a little minx as she sprinted across the church yard to where she’d left her bike. A full eventful night for the histories books she’d have to write it all down later not to forget it. The demon got on her bike before turning the key. Soon her engine was revved to go.

" Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed....,but it doesn't hurt to try "

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Post: 95746729_650 created on Mon, 25 May 2015 08:34:53 +0000
Posted: Mon, 25 May 2015 08:34:53 +0000

█

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☠ ❝Ｉ＇ｍ xxａxx ｓｉｎｎｅｒ❞ ━ ━

█ __ вeɴd мe ѕнαpe мe мιѕdιrecт мe ! It's all the same to me .
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█ _____doɴ'т corɴer мe . doɴ'т lecтυre мe . υɴderѕтαɴd ι'м α ѕιɴɴer!
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█_______ rαιѕe yoυr нαɴdѕ yoυ're α ѕιɴɴer! rαιѕe yoυr нαɴdѕ yoυ're α ѕιɴɴer!
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█ ＬＯＯＫＡＴＡＬＬＴＨＥＳＥＰＥＯＰＬＥＩＮＦＲＯＮＴＯＦＭＥ！

█████

█████████████████████████████████████████

█████

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Sinclaire couldn't stuff the giggle that flowed out of her small throat as her head tipped slowly farther and farther to the left, her black hair with ruby touches swaying in a dry wind that kicked up the sand and dust of fallen bodies from eons of old and tortured. He was amusing, she wanted him. Her fangs showed gently through the parched red lips that spread open. He had pushed her away, but instincts told her that he was aware of her. He had turned the fires of hell blue, he was interesting and a creature she had never crossed other than her own father. The blue flames were a sign of the far beyond damned, and she yearned to see them blossom from the boy once more. He was turning scorched and gray as they talked, good. As he tested her, Sinclaire's smile vanished to an eerie unstable stare. But slowly, her hollow grieving smile tugged at her mouth once more. "Yes, he birthed me from his best thoughts." Sinclaire briefly let her fingers smooth up her longer horn and gave the questioning man, who probably was still struggling with sane thoughts, darkening eyes that reminded him of possession. "Monster is a lowly word. Do I look so monstrous?" She blinked gently at him, her black bangs swaying against her pale cheeks. "Cause that would be a compliment, a beautiful one." Giggling into her palm, she did not waver against the stench that wafted him up in a cyclone of death. Her face then changed drastically with a grin when he smacked her hand away. It was like getting a violent volt, it felt nice and it made her cheeks turn a gentle pink.

"You'll get used to it." Delighted, she sang, as she walked into the open palm that Ceberus opened up for her to walk into. Holding her arm hooked around one of its flesh fingers, the nails an ashen black, she leaned into it, her claws scratching down the skin of it, her pout displeased at how he did not like her adorable, loving company. Perhaps they were ugly and made of hell fire, but they were child like and wonderfully playful when it came to killing things. She hugged its lonesome digit. She watched him start to walk away, her eyes pleading and whole. Sinclaire did not want some other demon to pray on him, he was her find. Tilting her head back as if regressing his words, her pout deepened as she listened to him with a peaked interest. He was going to make her give something in return to know him. Tch, she turned her head away fast as if throwing her nose in the air to a bowl of garbage. She could just torture him, make this gold haired being scream who he was, why he was here, rip his inners out and see his heart, but she pulled herself out of her blood bathed ideas and just decided to plop down in a sit in the palm of the beast as he rose up his hand high. Sinclaire rested her elbows on her knees and put her head in her dainty and dangerous hands. "I suppose that is fair reward." She said with a smooth voice that would intoxicate him through his pain as he used a hot stone to burn his hole in his chest closed. Her eyes glowed passionately, loving the sight of his pain. Slowly, her black claw but into the center of her bottom lip as she felt in love with such a bellowing man. It sizzled and the smell of clean flesh turning to char made her senses weave up together.

Letting out a tiny laugh, her legs swung up and down in open air as the Cerberus rose and spun its head to look out in the distance. Her eyes softened and her lips went shaky as he gave her his name. A name was far better than a smack. Her shoulders shivered as she took in the name and closing her eyes, she let out a soft sigh. He wanted to leave so soon, it made the demoness quite upset, but perhaps a little inquire would make him trust her. "Azzy-Love, there is only one way in, the entrance gates that I guard. This is Hell, the place of the sinners and damned to play and suffer. Only our king may leave and come. But...," She closed her ruby lashes, and slowly, her hand rose up, one claw pointing in the far world beyond. As she pointed, the dark clouds seemed to separate and spin to his eyes. In the distance was a huge mountain peak. Tallest of all others. "The one who ascends through the trials may have his wish of salvation." Leaning back on her hands, she glared down at the man that had his eyes on the mountain. Would he do such a task? "It's worse than death...." Sinclaire would make him suffer the worst, if he even got close as all the others, he would be saddened that he himself through such trials would not remain the same man. He would not be able to earn entrance, and it would shatter him as it had all the others. Then, he would be forced to stay with her - for all eternity. Lovely for her. Her eyes rolled up towards the burning gorge that separated and wrapped around the mountain like a moat. Reaching in, she played with her hair leaning forward again with a fanged grin. "It's pretty pointless if you ask me. Out of all the souls, only a few have even touched the mountain." She stared at him, her hand gripping tighter in her hair as she saw the boy's light up with hope. it made her angry. That hope would vanish, if it wasn't her last wish.

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ωнєяє

Beach of bone and sand.

xxx

ωнσ

Azrael.

xxx

ωну

Curious-er & Curious-er.

xtigsx

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Post: 95746729_651 created on Mon, 25 May 2015 09:31:20 +0000
Posted: Mon, 25 May 2015 09:31:20 +0000

「ＴＨＥＷＯＬＦＩＳＩＮＹＯＵＲＢＥＤ

███████████ ♛ ██

ｔｈｅ． ｌｉｏｎ ❜ ｓ ．ｏｕｔ ╭ ｓｉｄｅ．ｙｏｕｒ．ｄｏｏｒ

ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴏɴ ᴇᴀᴛs ( h e r ) ғɪʟʟ ﹠ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʟғ xxx ᴄʟᴇᴀɴs ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ xxx████ ｍｅｓｓ.

location: → Alleyway. | company: → Sophie and Maisie. | feeling: → How dare you? | theme: the lion & the wolf.

Ｉａｍ ＧＲＩＭ .

The will to burn up this stubborn woman before him was growing. The man's mane of tousled hair lowered as if dominating her, challenging her very nice invitation. His lost expression, ready for the kill carved into the woman Grim wanted desperately to rip up limb to limb, how dare she get in Aslithe's way. Her crude expression just boiled him up even further, was such a human testing a monster such as he? It was laughable, ridiculousness at a pretty cost. Her face. Yes, her face would be a nice area to start, scratch it up with his teeth. His jaw ticked as he took a violent push forward towards her egoist call towards the beast, but he was quickly stopped, taken aback. In front of him, his advance was stopped, and Grim was now staring at her from behind an sheet of ice. It pushed out at him with a bitter coldness, a demon's winter. He blinked as if baffled, blinking back an boyish innocence for seeing something he had never seen with such eyes. Realizing it was created by the other woman, he turned his head slowly, and his jaw shut as if angry that she felt the need to keep bringing up the human child.

As she spoke, the dog's expression just seemed to come up more darker, and darker, angry that she had now taken up the documents, his eyes instantly had followed. Her skin seemed to be already breaking without his assistance. Raising up his hand, he pressed his red glove onto the ice wall, and almost in a blind blast, pieces of ice shot in all directions, and towards the stumbling girl she called Sophie. This girl shaking as if touched by something fragile in the head was a hunter. Grim wanted to laugh. She surely had the whits to stand toe to toe with him, but where was her bite that would bite him back located? She had no weapon. She didn't seem scary in the slightest, but this was all taking too long.

As he shook his hand of the cold, he rose his unique eyes to the ice woman's power and soft heart for human kind. It made Grim go loose in his body as he turned a boot and faced her words and troublesome face and caring words. "Yes, my mistress. So please return it..." Calm before the storm. He spoke with a clip, ready to tear off the woman's world of peaceful dove wings of peace. There was no peace to be found. She continued and it made his eyes tighten, anger steamed in his gut like fresh coals. Stop bringing up that brat...

"I don't know!" Throwing his head up, he snarled his words towards the woman, who was turning quick to an annoyance. If she wanted to fight, he would throw everything into his flames and bite to get that parcel back. It was important to make Aslithe's wishes and dreams a reality, he couldn't let these bothersome woman take that away. Even he did not even know where the instinct to save such an ugly crying child come forth from. He just acted, perhaps it was hidden in him. But he couldn't dig it up just yet. As he huffed, he noticed the vapors in front of his eyes, his body was heating up, a fire in her frigid existence fighting off the cold that was turning down this alley. He watched as horns seemed to sprout from her cranium like those of a deer. He did not smile or grimace, he was locked on the pray before him and lowering his head, his body once more was attacked by the engulf of fire and the scent of death overpowered. Once again, he was the mutt of the hell world, tossing his head side to side showing off his verbal anger and displeasure with a rippling growl. Clenching his jaw, the beast slammed his large paws into the cement sharpening his claws for the attack. His tail was straight and agile, stiff as his whole body that was trembling for the need of flesh in his teeth.

The fight snapped like his teeth clenching in his jaw, his many of red eyes dilated and focused to spill the frozen girl's blood. Opening his jaw so large it could swallow her feminine soul up in one gulp, a tunneling fire ripped out from the dark creatures mouth towards the soft and cold Maisie. If she dodged, which he was hoping for, the beast would launch itself towards her, teeth silvery and thin like knives.

ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴏɴ❜s ᴄʟᴀᴡs ᴀʀᴇ ( ｓｈａｒｐｅｎｅｄ ) ғᴏʀ ᴡᴀʀ ﹠ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʟғ❜s ᴛᴇᴇᴛʜ ᴀʀᴇ xxx████ ＲＥＤ .

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Post: 95746729_652 created on Mon, 25 May 2015 17:51:18 +0000
Posted: Mon, 25 May 2015 17:51:18 +0000

"Eternity is very close. Can you feel yourself slipping?"

Eien: The Eternal Child

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Eien was intently staring Aslithe, waiting for her response to his words. But before that could happen, something more urgent took hold. It was quiet yet it screamed in his head. He knew it was. He knew what it meant. And he knew what he had to do.

Eien!

Patricia was in danger. Just as he predicted. But something felt horribly wrong. Eyeing down Aslithe, Eien stood up slowly and bowed. "I must leave you now. Remember my words. And you might need new servants after tonight." With that, he vanished from her presence. Eien sprinted at speed that would make even light proud. He was a bloodhound. Turning on a dim. He could smell her blood. Her pure skin had been punctured and it was all he needed to navigate the unknown church. After probably only one minute, he appeared right next to her. It would appear as if he appeared out of thin air to the mysterious boys in front of him.

Eien then looked down at the fallen Patricia. His eyes instantly darted to the two small puncture wounds. His eyes widened, his pupils dilated. He then turned slowly to look at the two suspects. One boy looked like he was ready to feast on poor Patricia. The other, Eien could see the tiniest droplet of blood of coming from his mouth. He instantly gathered that this was Dom. It would only make sense that her friend would try to turn her. Eien then pointed at Dom. "So you must be the boy she had been raving about and who pleaded for my help in finding. All this hope she had, and you are just the monster I knew you would be. Unable to control yourself. Unfortunate. Very unfortunate. Don't you dare when you speak say that you it did to defend from her from that monster over there." He pointed at the other mysterious boy. "That would be the worst excuse I've ever heard in all my years. Which are about one thousands times more then you boy."

He then turned to Patricia and placed his free hand down on her, nodding at her slowly. Eien then directed his eyes back at the boy. "What are you thinking? Huh? Did you forget she has family? A mother and father that love her. A friend that cares for her. And you just wanted to take away all that and subjugate her to an eternal curse? That is pure evil and just as wretched as the vile mistress of yours upstairs." Staring him down, Eien slowly unsheathed his cane, letting the sheathe fall to the ground. He pointed his sword at both of them. He then placed one arm behind his back. Looking down at Patricia, he looked back at the two.

I'm am taking Patricia back home. Shame, she is going have to tell that human male, uh what was his name she said before......... Mush? Bush?.... Kush? Ah yes "Kush"!...... that her best friend has become a monster of legend. And should any of you dare say otherwise....." He looked at them as his voice trailed off, his eyes began to glow as he pointed his sword at the both of them. "I dare you to challenge me. I am the first. I am forever. I am eternal. Do you want test your few years against a milenina of practice? Come now. I'll take you both on with ease." EIen hoped they made a move. So he could teach them a lesson, so that he could teach Aslithe a lesson as well. He was ready. Two youngsters against an ancient master. Eien didn't care how many lives he had to end. He made a promise to Patricia and that human male "Kush" that he would take care of her and he fully intended to honor that promise to the end.

Thoughts: My body is ready. Bring it so I can cut you down.
Location: Church Garden
Company: Patricia, Dom, Mysterious Boy.

Under Silence

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Post: 95746729_653 created on Mon, 25 May 2015 23:24:42 +0000
Posted: Mon, 25 May 2015 23:24:42 +0000

I'M STILL HERE: empty church ║ IN MY SIGHTS: jericho, michael, a demon and her snake ║ VITAL SIGNS: ║ still standing.

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tab tab tab tab tab tab ❝ WELL, JESUS CHRIST, I'M ALONE AGAIN ◄◀◂ ◄◀◂ ◄◀◂

SO WHAT DID YOU DO THOSE THREE DAYS YOU WERE DEAD? tab SO WHAT DID YOU DO THOSE THREE DAYS YOU WERE DEAD?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx'CAUSE THIS PROBLEM'S GONNA LAST MORE THAN THE WEEKEND.
「♟」❝ WELL, JESUS CHRIST, I'M NOT SCARED TO DIE !!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI'M A LITTLE BIT SCARED OF WHAT COMES AFTER tab I'M A LITTLE BIT SCARED OF WHAT COMES AFTER

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx]ＤＯX Ｉ X ＤＩＶＩＤＥX ＡＮＤX ＦＡＬＬX ＡＰＡＲＴx?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

tab tab tab tab tab ♟ 'CAUSE MY BRIGHT IS TOO SLIGHT TO HOLD BACK ALL MY DARK.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♟ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

Kessler had been a hunter long before he began fighting the supernatural, but he hadn't tasted power until after Dom had disappeared.

When they were boys, Dad used to take them on weekend trips into New Jersey, where trees grew along the sides of the roads instead of skyscrapers. They brought their guns and stayed at an uncle's place (he wasn't really Dad's brother, Kessler had deduced at an early age, but Dad seemed to value him enough to call him family), and when the weather was clear and the forests were dense, he taught them how to shoot deer.

It was no wonder, then, that Kessler had become an excellent shot with Ghost—he had been practicing from an early age. When he first started hunting, he had killed more trees than deer, but when he finally nailed the fleeing ruminant in the neck and watched it collapse, hot blood seeping from the punctured skin with each frenzied breath, he had expected a swell of pride. He had not felt it.

He learned then: that was not power.

When he stood, panting furiously over the felled vampire, his canine-lined jaws wrenched open in a frozen scream, and watched the blood pulsing from the woman's neck grow feebler with each fading breath in his arms, he had not expected a swell of pride. He had not felt it, either.

He learned then: that was not power.

Shooting a fleeing target, a harmless one, a victim already on the rung below you was not powerful because the power was already in your hands. Killing a predator only after it claimed its prey was not power because you only ended a life—you didn't save one to balance it out. The only times Kessler felt powerful were the thankless ones, when he ended a supernatual being before it could claim a human's life. He could never speak of these hunts, and even if he did, who would believe him?

Right now, standing before Michael, before the demoness, and before Jericho, he felt a strange kind of sensation coursing through his veins, but because he had long ago learned what power wasn't, he knew it was far from it. There was something like pain, but without the actual sensation—just the impression of pain, and he glanced sharply down at his arm to find that something he couldn't read was being inscribed across it, in front of his eyes. From the look of it, Michael was going through a similar fate, and Kessler noticed with an air of alarm that he seemed to sway on his feet. Swiftly, he moved forward to catch the angel if need be. But this is the angel I shot, he thought dazedly. Why do I suddenly care if he stands or falls?

Because I already said it: from now on, we both stand.

The demoness and Jericho seemed to be exchanging sarcastic remarks with each other, but Kessler's mind was tripped up on what Jericho had said to him: accept him as his savior and be reborn. From the demoness's retort, Kessler reasoned, perhaps Jericho was simply blowing hot air, claiming he could cure Kessler when in reality, he couldn't. But the way he spoke—of God's apparent love for humans but actual disdain, of the balance of power, of making yourself matter—Kessler couldn't deny that they were thoughts he had entertained in his cancer-ridden brain at some point, and he wondered if perhaps Jericho could read minds—or if they were just alike.

I'm not like him, he thought. I wouldn't trick someone like that.

The demoness quipped that he had sold his soul to an archangel before suddenly fleeing out the window, heading to the bike that must have been hers. Kessler watched her, and part of his mind seized up to follow her, but the other part was still frozen before Jericho and Michael. He turned swiftly to Jericho and narrowed his eyes, sizing up the strange man. He had the power to cure Kessler, apparently—but the price? He had to lose someone he loved. Your girlfriend or your father.

Kessler didn't trust him for a second that he wouldn't kill—

—but Maisie isn't your girlfriend. And Dad... after everything he did to you—?

Kessler gritted his teeth. This was his plan. This was what he wanted, to play with the strings of Kessler's psyche. He hissed in frustration and threw his pack down on the floor.

"Sold my soul to an archangel? But... angels don't work like that—do they?" Kessler looked at the strangely-woozy Michael for a moment, a hint of concern ebbing at his mind, before shifting his gaze to Jericho. In a swift motion, he pulled his salt shaker from his pack and threw a wave of salt in Jericho's direction. He needed to know what this man really was. If he were a demon, the salt would burn him.

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♟ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

xxxxxxxxxxxxx❝ I'M SCARED I'LL GET SCARED—!!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxAND I SWEAR I'LL TRY TO NAIL YOU BACK UP tab AND I SWEAR I'LL TRY TO NAIL YOU BACK UP tab AND I SWEAR I'LL TRY TO NAIL YOU BACK UP

...SO DO YOU THINK THAT WE CAN WORK OUT A SIGN ?

xxxxxxxxxxxSO I'LL KNOW IT'S YOU AND THAT IT'S OVER, SO I WON'T EVEN TRY ?

[xABOUT x ３００ x REMAINx]

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Post: 95746729_654 created on Tue, 26 May 2015 00:18:05 +0000
Posted: Tue, 26 May 2015 00:18:05 +0000

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HERE AND THERE: manhattan alley tab ❄ tab GIVE ME A NAME: sophie and a hellhound tab ❄ tab I FEEL AGAIN: on the defense

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Sophie picked a very inconvenient time to completely lose it.

Nobody turned her head sharply, eyes slightly wided in disconcert and confusion, as the not-quite-human girl slumped to the ground and began laughing hysterically. In this position, she was vulnerable to attack, and Nobody had stepped up to take Grim's assault—though she abhorred using her powers at all, let alone for combat—for the express purpose of keeping her out of harm's way. Gritting her teeth in agitation, Nobody blew a gentle sigh to relax her nerves and turned her gaze back to the bristling Grim. He admitted that the parchment in Nobody's hands was for his mistress, and something about the way he breathed the word told Nobody everything she needed to know.

He said it in the exact same voice Kush used to say her name.

In a snap, his demeanor changed then, and he obviously lashed out at her bringing up the child he had saved again. I figured as much. The kid is a weak spot in his armor, she thought. Although fighting was not her favorite pastime, Nobody was launching a quiet assault on the hellhound as he revved up his powers. An intrusion into his mind. Intrusion because Nobody hated using her keen sense of analysis—not a supernatural one, but one she had acquired after a centuries-long fascination with human psychology—to pry into another's personality, but she preferred disarming to incapacitating, and if she had to disarm someone psychologically, it was better than smashing his head with a sharp wall of ice.

This hellhound, Grim, was painting a clear picture of himself for her now. He was cold and ruthless, or he liked to come across that way, perhaps due to the necessity of serving his mistress. The reverence with which he said her name and the strangely distancing title told Nobody that perhaps she was a figure of great authority in his life, and she suspected he projected an air of ruthless competence to instill her faith in him. But the hellhound was not without feeling, she knew, from the way he spoke of his mistress and the way he had saved the child, as frustrated as it made him. Perhaps it was a hidden impulse, but the fact that he had the impulse told her it existed in the first place. There was hope.

With a startling, canine cry, the boy transformed into his hellhound form and launched himself at her in a billowing wall of an inferno that blocked his advancing body from her view. Nobody stiffened as she watched and felt the heat advance, and glancing back, she swiftly struck out her palm and coated the ground beneath Sophie in an ice so slippery that she would slide away from the fire's grasp. Then, lifting both of her arms up, she erected a wall of ice around her in all directions. The wall was melten in a second by the wash of the flames, but by then the inferno had died down, leaving Nobody to deal with the swiftly advancing Grim.

His jaws moved to lock around her arm, and Nobody clenched her fist, creating a hard shell of armor-like ice where his jaws clamped down. Then she upset his footing by creating ice on the ground beneath them both—she did not slip, as used to walking on ice as she was.

Every force had an equal but opposite reaction, and with each of Grim's attacks, Nobody returned an equal but opposite one—while he was on the offense, she made no move to attack him, merely aiming to deflect his attacks. Her assault was one of peace and one of words. "Your mistress," she said between his strikes, hoping her words would echo across the sound of shattering ice. "You must love her very much. Tell me about her."

COME SEE THE ( ＢＬＯＯＤ ) THAT'S IN MY BED

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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx> > COME HEAR THE THINGS THAT { NOBODY } TALKS ABOUT

SHUT UP YOUR ( ＭＯＵＴＨ ) !xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

SHAME ON YOU SHAME ON ME SHAME ON YOU SHAME ON ME SHAME ON YOU SHAME ON ME xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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Post: 95746729_655 created on Tue, 26 May 2015 02:10:00 +0000
Posted: Tue, 26 May 2015 02:10:00 +0000

Jericho Goode

"Let's make a Deal..."

The demon was quick of tongue and sharp of wit. Two traits that Jericho found himself admiring. The comments were... Strong to say the least. But they didn't sting exactly. He'd heard a thousand other comments roughly stuctured the same way. Maybe it was because imagination was a thing that had long since been buried beneath the era of iPhones and Macbooks and such. which was a real shame. Jericho distantly remembered the time when paintings were considered the greatest feat in the world, and now there were blank canvasas with single purple dots in the center that would sell for a trillion dollars because of some gimmicky art style that the artist supposedly attempted to represent. Yes, the box clearly showed the growing disparity between the wealthy and the poor. It was so obvious.

"A puss is the shortened version of pusilanimous, which is the word used to define a coward. If I had to guess I'd say I just saw one. I get it, sweet cheeks. You're clever, but the only place this hand is going is up your pretty arse. I'm sure you don't have a problem with that seeing as how you seem so familiar with those tentacles of yours. Can you say; easy? Because I sure as Hell could."

The demon left him then, which was a shame because Jericho hadn't quite been done dealing insults as though he were a card shark at a poker table. Ah well, life was full of surprises however and there was that archangel behind him and the fellow named Kush. For some strange reason the world had it in their heads that he was a demon. This was, of course, incorrect. He wasn't a demon; at least he didn't think so. He always saw himself as retaining his humanity even in the face of odds that would have suggested otherwise. If there was anything he knew it was this; as long as he still felt love and agony he was a human being.

Which always brought to mind just what a human being was exactly. Were they dictated by their feelings? Some would say yes. The romantic would say yes. They would go on and on about how human beings were the only creatures on this Earth that loved each other truly and with all their hearts. But then, they couldn't get an animal to speak English so why in God's name did they assume this?

Was it then their ability to create? Ants did the same thing. They built homes and kingdoms and ruled over them with iron fists. Or tiny iron fists. They served the Queen as humanity served their President or dictator of God. The ants were tiny representations of a bigger fold in the carpet. Ripples in an ocean full of waves. Yet they still were the same thing essentially; they made a difference in their realm.

Perhaps it was their ability to think for themselves then. Demons and Angels only knew a few things. They knew they wanted souls or some such. To serve the Devil or God, they knew this in their hearts if they had them. Maybe they couldn't think to the extent humans could. But what did that say of Jericho? He felt love, yes. But did he create? Misery. He made that. Very easily simply by shaking hands with another fellow. But at least that was a creation. Did he think outside the box as humans did? Yes, of course. He didn't try to eat people's souls. But then, he did have a one-track mind. He needed to make more deals to stay alive even if it meant creating a wake of misery behind his footsteps.

What was he then? Well, the answer came to him with a pocketfull of salt. Was it the answer he expected? In some places it was. In this one, it wasn't quite what he thought he'd get. The salt was a deterrant for Demons and similar ilk. It would burn or scald or scar or hurt in some way shape or form. Jericho wasn't learned in why this was; he simply accepted it was one of the world's greatest "Who gives a flying ******** because it still works."

"Oh you d**k!" The salt attached itself to the fine suit. It was a goddamn Armani suit too. "I paid a literal wagon for this suit. Don't ask why. What's your issue? This coat alone costs more than that angel's bloody halo! I'll tell you something, you daft little twit, if I ever come to a point where violence is the first thing I think of when I look at you I'll... Well I don't... really know what I'd do. Actually I'm not very violent come to think of it. s**t, what sounds threatening? Ah. Strangling. I'll even wear gloves. And why does everyone think I'm a goddamn demon? I just made very, very, good choices in my life that let me live longer and sure it might've given me a funny little hand, but it's not even that evil looking. Is everyone here a judgemental p***k?"

He went to work wiping the salt off of his suit which clung to him like an mother clings to her baby. He couldn't get it all off, unfortunately, and it would eventually come off in a dry-cleaners about half an hour from the church, but for now the salt clung desperately. At least it wasn't very noticeable. Jericho gave up after a moment's frustration and shrugged his shoulders.

"Alright, fine. No deal. Could've just said so, mate. There isn't anything wrong with saying no these days. What, you think I'm going to cut you or something? Hakuna matata. It's all good. Whatever. What you never seen Lion King? Oh, you might wanna toss some over your shoulder. Bad luck to spill salt."

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Post: 95746729_656 created on Tue, 26 May 2015 06:12:15 +0000
Posted: Tue, 26 May 2015 06:12:15 +0000

He skinned me alive, ripped me apart
xxxxxxxx Scattered my ashes, buried my heart

a r c h a n g e l || o f || w a r
The first Angel created by God, Michael is the leader of all the Archangels and is in charge of protection, courage, strength, truth and integrity.

"Great back side by the way Michael-"
Michael stared in her direction for a long while. His eyes unconsciously followed her slender body as she maneuvered her way out of the church. "She is quite the feisty- that one ." The archangel remarked,feeling a small smile cross over his features. Despite her demon like qualities about her, she had something of a bite to her. The only other word that came to mind to describe her was 'spicy'. Her spunk and her attitude were something to be admired. It wasn't like anything Michael had seen before. "And- very free spirited it seems."

Michael's attention was pulled from her nibble body escaping the church to Kessler, who questioned his purpose to be some sort of soul collector. "You have not sold me anything. I am not a merchant. I am but a fighter, the Angel of War,I am as I am, Michael." The angelic male attempted to explain. "What ever this is...."he started turning over the markings on his arms. "This was of your will, Kessler. I am sure that your soul is still yours." Michael glanced to Jericho, unable to stop the look of mild disdain from overcoming his features. "Though I would not bargain it for anyone one or anything."

Michael felt his wings fluff up in defense, like that of a cats tail before they settled back into place. He watched as Kessler throw salt at the male, and the fit that soon followed. "I don't like him." Michael whispered " He speaks in tongues and is not of God's men. What magic does he cast with this King of Lions? What spell does this 'Haiku-new My-tatas?' summon?"

Michael looked down at Kesslers pack, taking a liberty to peek inside at the contents inside."Is it normal to carry around the grain of life on your back these days?" The angel puzzled pulling out a small scoop of salt in his hands to feel it over with his thumbs. "Maybe you didn't throw enough at him." Michael mumbled bitterly, trying to push the salt into Kesslers hand. "Here throw this at him too. Try shooting him with that fancy gun. That ought to make him really go away."

_________________________________________________________________

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l o ca t i o n: A church apartment____________________T a l k i n g to: Kessler/ Jericho/ Memphi

Pray to your god, open your heart xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark xxxxxxxxxxxxx

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Post: 95746729_657 created on Tue, 26 May 2015 07:37:02 +0000
Posted: Tue, 26 May 2015 07:37:02 +0000

The roads from the church was clear as Anja’s motor cycle raced down the road to the very end. She needed only put a little distance between them. The demon wasn’t going to go anywhere beyond the church yard unless the human did. Something was eating away at the back of her mind as she turned the street corner.
…I didn’t bleed enough , when I died ..no not enough for you Everything around her vanished as she slowed her motorcycle to stop two blocks from the church. Night was coming quickly the stars were shining just beyond the dusk. Anja killed the engine before looking up at the twinkling heavens. They were the same skies under which everyone dwelled ,but not many could dwell in them. heaven's boulevard...It has been a long time since we talked me speaking and you always in your captivating silence. I always wonder if your just holding your breath. The demon thought as she unbuckled her helmet before pulling it off. A cool breeze met her face as she shut her eyes for a moment. You let so many die…Now ,I wonder why out of one out of many you choose one boy. A single human being out of eight million. Anja opened her eyes before throwing her leg over the back as she waited for an explination for the nights events. It would never come in one of the rare occrences she’d try praying. The demon thought in such strange circumstance perhaps go would answers. “Sie nicht halten können ein Mädchen warten auf je. “ She waved off the sky before grabbing the handles of her bike as she began to push it back towards the church.

They need only think that the demon left to go about her own business. Which was true she was going about her business as usual. Only there was bigger players now on the board. As she grew up in the age of enlighten Anja had learned to move pieces around the board at an early age. Now in the current century the pieces were smaller, but still waiting to be moved. She’d watch the human and the Archangel at a distance learning their comings as well as goings. At least one of them had to have people he cared about. What St. Michal the Archangel cared about was beyond threatening. However the boy was different there had to be something other than his life that could be threatened. When Anja went about threatening it was masked as concern. The ‘what ifs’ of life could be far more scary then actually carrying out threats. She didn’t want to twist the knife to deep as she wanted to keep the pain from ever grazing the surface. There was always wish granting, but god had answered the boy’s prayers in a way by sending the angel. If anything could ward off the threat of death it was an angel.

There were other ticks that not only demons could learn, but women in particular. Men’s emotions were so easily molded to the need of a woman if she knew how to play him right. There had be a firm attachment, but an emotional detachment completely. Some demons came on to strong …people like Jericho came on to strong play all their parts early. No name of Anja’s had been given to night not even the demon name she went by. They didn’t know her intent so long as it was masked by nothing more than a run in it would be okay. There was always strangely concern for human that Anja could fain.

Anja had fallen in ‘love’ many different times with many different men. They would have gone to hell and back if she’d asked them to. However she didn’t love them back...oh she cared that they lived long enough to get their end of the bargain, but after that it was little trouble. The first and second were always the hardest ones to kill. It was everyone after that made the severing easier like pulling a rotten tooth that wouldn’t be missed. Without a soul the demon was very much detached from her own emotions.

Once she’d reached the church again Anja left her bike hidden in some nearby bushes. She climbed up a tree overlooking the church able to see comings and goings out of both ends of the church. There the demon would spend the night if she had to. Mephistopheles positioned herself on a branch laying on her belly as she stared down overlooking the church. Now was the time to be patient to watch and wait till her targets moved.

" Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed....,but it doesn't hurt to try "

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Post: 95746729_658 created on Tue, 26 May 2015 13:40:08 +0000
Posted: Tue, 26 May 2015 13:40:08 +0000

I'M STILL HERE: empty church ║ IN MY SIGHTS: jericho and michael ║ VITAL SIGNS: ║ who the ******** hasn't seen the lion king?

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tab tab tab tab tab tab ❝ WELL, JESUS CHRIST, I'M ALONE AGAIN ◄◀◂ ◄◀◂ ◄◀◂

SO WHAT DID YOU DO THOSE THREE DAYS YOU WERE DEAD? tab SO WHAT DID YOU DO THOSE THREE DAYS YOU WERE DEAD?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx'CAUSE THIS PROBLEM'S GONNA LAST MORE THAN THE WEEKEND.
「♟」❝ WELL, JESUS CHRIST, I'M NOT SCARED TO DIE !!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxI'M A LITTLE BIT SCARED OF WHAT COMES AFTER tab I'M A LITTLE BIT SCARED OF WHAT COMES AFTER

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇ ▇

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx]ＤＯX Ｉ X ＤＩＶＩＤＥX ＡＮＤX ＦＡＬＬX ＡＰＡＲＴx?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

tab tab tab tab tab ♟ 'CAUSE MY BRIGHT IS TOO SLIGHT TO HOLD BACK ALL MY DARK.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♟ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

From the Jericho's reaction to Kessler splaying the salt across his suit, he might have pegged the man as either more dangerous or less than he had originally thought. For one thing, the salt did nothing to him, leaving his skin pristine and his suit flecked with patches of white (Kessler couldn't deny a quiet sort of catharsis from dirtying the suit—though he most often directed his violent vengeance at supernaturals, even among humans there were haves and have-nots). So he was not a demon, which was reassuring on one front, but on another—what was he, then?

What hewed the air of tension from around Kessler's sharp edges was Jericho's reaction to being fired at with a harmless assault of salt. Daft little twit? Where had the pseudo-British lingo come from all of a sudden? Kessler had originally noticed his Spanish slang, but now he was switching it up again? It was as if he had learned how to be human from watching television and was simply offering an imperfect emulation of what he saw rather than upholding the human quality of consistency. He seemed mightily offended by Kessler's saltiness, defending his good choices and claiming that his hand didn't look all that evil. Kessler, no stranger to scars, was inclined to agree—the hand had nothing to do with his decision to toss the salt at Jericho. His words, the words that still knocked tantalizingly against the inside of his skull, had sealed the deal.

"Is everyone here a judgmental p***k?" Jericho lamented.

Judgmental p***k? Funny coming from the guy who called the angel a Michael Bay special effect and told the demon she had an STD, Kessler thought wryly, but he kept it in his head. He had far more comebacks than he would ever allow to pass through his lips—he preferred to fight with his hands, not his tongue.

Jericho's demeanor shifted again then as he seemed to reconcile with the fact that Kessler was not going to make a deal with him, which honestly relieved Kessler because he hadn't been sure that he didn't want to contract, only that he wanted to know what Jericho was. Jericho's sudden decision would make his easier.

A sudden ruffling sound startled Kessler, and he looked to his side to find Michael fluffing up his feathers like a disgruntled cat. The angel had advised him that this sudden surge of power had been of his own will, that his soul still belonged to him, but Kessler had to admit he didn't have a clue what he had done to summon Michael to this place. He must have been acting subconsciously, using his hunter brain in the background while his forebrain was fuzzied by drusg. Now, the blur of narcotics seemed to have receded completely.

After another moment, he furrowed his brows at Michael in disbelief. King of Lions? Spells? Speaking in tongues? He... he has no idea what The Lion King is, does he?

"Y...You've got that wrong," Kessler fumbled as Michael began looking through his pack, urging him to throw more salt at Jericho. "It was a reference. To a movie. D—Do you know what movies are?"

Michael's transparently serious expression told Kessler all he needed to know, and he stared incredulously. What the Hell have I gotten myself into?

"I, uh—the salt—the salt isn't going to do anything. Salt—when demons touch it, it hurts them. It didn't hurt him, so he's not a demon."

Kessler glanced at Jericho, narrowing his eyes to focus. "He's not a demon. He's just a man—but whether or not you can call him human anymore is arguable."

In his mind's eye, he saw himself driving a wooden stake again and again into a vampire's breast.

"Then again—I'm one to talk."

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xxxxxxxxxxxxx❝ I'M SCARED I'LL GET SCARED—!!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxAND I SWEAR I'LL TRY TO NAIL YOU BACK UP tab AND I SWEAR I'LL TRY TO NAIL YOU BACK UP tab AND I SWEAR I'LL TRY TO NAIL YOU BACK UP

...SO DO YOU THINK THAT WE CAN WORK OUT A SIGN ?

xxxxxxxxxxxSO I'LL KNOW IT'S YOU AND THAT IT'S OVER, SO I WON'T EVEN TRY ?

[xABOUT x ３００ x REMAINx]

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BlackAceDiamond

xtigsx

The Covenant Man

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PoshPix

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Post: 95746729_659 created on Tue, 26 May 2015 22:09:53 +0000
Posted: Tue, 26 May 2015 22:09:53 +0000

BlackAceDiamond

[

It's been a long day without you my friend
And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again
We've come a long way from where we began
Oh I'll tell you all about it when I see you again
When I see you again

Location: hell

The mountain kissed the skies of hell that still broiled with hurling meteors down on the landscape. It was tall ominous with its dark clouds spinning overhead. A sane person in their right minds would not take on such a herculean task. In truth the prospects were intimidating as the fallen angel took in the mountain in its torments. “…It’s not a wish …It’s my right” Azrael said with the entitlement that had come with his pass station as an archangel. He’d reigned down plagues and worse things on the world. “The faith a mustard seed can move mountains “He reminded himself as there was no lower he could go then hell physically. Azrael would put the brakes on his 48 hour decent into the pit of the beast.

Where the summit was surrounded by a craggy Gorge spreading wide and fanning out to the surrounding land. “A worse fate then death would be standing still and accepting this fate. This is a worthy task for me after all ,I’ve brought punishment of god on the earth for eons….I know how such torchers work “ Azrael admitted as he reached his hand up not sure if what he needed to call would come. If he could summon it up then he could call on other things to aid him. The angel of death fixated on his shearing blade recalling where he’d left it in the world above. If he could just sense and grasp it in the realm above. It was distant, but bound by blood to Azrael alone. A cut opened up on the palm of Azrael’s hand blood ripped and began to form into something that could be reached. The fallen angel grasped on it solidifying the blood into dark black wood. More blood escaped form azzy’s hand before combining with the shaft of his scythe. It grew a long arching crescent shape before dripping down the ground revealing a hardened steal underneath the scythes blade had not lost its sharpness in the battle with Michael it still gleamed with sinister intentions of its master.

“...I am not your love….I was the angel of death and lords bringer of divine punishment. It was my action to the lord’s orders to bring Egypt to its knees. When the floods that cleaned the slates for Noah were carried out by my lord’s command and my hands did the work again. Sodom and Gomorrah the greatest cities of sin that burned in the night were cast into ash by my brother and myself. Those who looked back were cast into pillars of salt…I’ve seen and caused more suffering in the name of god then you’d care to know. If there is anyone to scale that mountain it’s me. “Azrael told Sinclair what she wanted to know about him. All that there was to know about him was simple. He was a man that was hardened by things he’d already seen. Bull headed to carry out a task till its completion. Azzy hadn’t been and a lazy angel he’d always been at rest un till gods call lit a fire under him. Now his will to survive and climb once again to see the sky was what drove him. “...Azrael my full name is Azrael and I might be a demon, but that does not change who, I was or who I am now. “

The fallen angel removed the cloak he wore underneath he wore what he had on earth. His power hadn’t been ebbed away just his mentality. With hope fresh in his bones he could move again without fear. A clear mind and a lightened heart would give him new energy to take on the mountain. Azrael adjusted his collar removing his scarf. “…I could have left the jacket and scarf up there…really warm down here. “He said taking off his jacket. They both evaporated in thin air leaving Azrael in his dress pants and white suit shirt. “ ….Now you silly girl out of my way “

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In darkness of the night
So let the light guide your way hold every memory
As you go and every road you take will always lead you home
The angel of death at his kill

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Post: 95746729_660 created on Wed, 27 May 2015 00:08:13 +0000
Posted: Wed, 27 May 2015 00:08:13 +0000

Jericho Goode

"Let's make a Deal..."

Jericho sat down on one of the pews. His back was hurting, he'd lost a deal, and now he was being threatened by an Angel. One of the celestial beings supposedly known for their kind nature and warrior lifestyle. They were like a mixture of a cleric and a spartan warrior. At least, that's how the stories went. In reality this one seemed pretty beaten. He didn't even try to fight. He simply sat down and took what was dealt to him. Keeping in mind, of course, the importance of whatever situation he was in. The angel looked like a depressed schoolboy who'd been reading his mother's bible a bit too much. At least he wasn't throwing around a flaming gladius trying to cut the heads off of every infidel in the world. So hey, the fundamentalists were wrong about that at least. Screw the church.

Then there was the boy named Kush, or whatever his real name was. There was the distinct possibility that his father really was that much of a smoker and he decided the name of his song should be dictated by his favorite plant. Which, in all fairness, probably meant Kush came from a line of morons. The boy himself wasn't though. He was tentative to take a deal and was quick to spot plenty of inconsistencies with the way Jericho moved and spoke. It showed he had a lot more humanity than plenty other people out there in the big blue marble that was the Earth.

Jericho spread his arms out so they were resting on the wooden back-end of the pew. He took his coat off and laid it gently on the seat in front of him. He took a bible out and used it as a pillow. The soft leather covering did a little bit to ease the tension in his head. Jericho knew how easy it would be to simply mutter a bit of hoodoo under his breath and just let the headache slide away from him like an ex-girlfriend slides away from her junkie lover. But he decided he could endure the pain for a little bit. At least his head wasn't to the point of just throbbing away.

"Alright look here Kush or Kessel Run or whatever you want to call yourself," Jericho began pulling a cowboy hat out from nowhere. The hat was an illusion, sure as any, but it looked like real black leather. Jericho loved his imagination sometimes. Jericho also pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. This wasn't an illusion; he had a habit of smoking on occasion, not because he felt something, but because it tasted good in his lungs. Like cotton candy next to a garbage heap. A flaming garbage heap. "The world ain't sunshine and rainbows. We all do bad s**t. We all are bad people in our own little ways. You're a damned saint compared to me. Is that an issue? No. Because you, you're a good guy. One of those fellas who tries his best to save the world at whatever cost. Admirable, surely. Hell, it's downright cool in the pool.

"But the issue with being such a nice guy is that you let your ideologies blind you faster than a flash-bang. You might have these thoughts that you're too good for this or you hate this so much because so-so. You have your reasons I'm sure. But here you are acting all paranoid because you think I'm some kinda demon come to whisk your soul away to Detroit (also called Hell) because that's just the kinda guy I am. Well, truth be told that's not who I am. I'm a guy who walks around giving and taking. I'm the little choices you make in your daily life only this time I've got a nice hat. I was going to say nice suit -but you fixed that awful quick.

"You're right to distrust me, and I get that. Really, I do. But what's the world when you've got nobody to trust, hmm? It isn't a chess board. Or Risk. It's simply titled The Game. Everyone has a piece in it. Everyone has a stake in it. Some people have toothpicks and some just got splinters. But you and me? We're forests, bud. Everything we touch turns to ash or gold or stone or blood. Know why? Because God is sitting up there in his big silver chair making all these decisions because HBO isn't playing Game of Thrones as often as he'd like. Even God can't control everything. Besides, it's entirely possible he's not the creator, but the usurper to the universe. Wings over there might have an idea of what I mean." Jericho grinned beneath his hat, flicked his cigarette butt into a dark corner somewhere in the church.

"Now we both got choices that neither of us like to make. We can be good or evil or gray -which is what I am. You've got friends in high places over there-" Jericho gestured to Michael. "-But the guy doesn't even know what a God damned movie is. You and me? We could make a deal. Not involving my hand of course. You already don't like me as it is. I can see it in your face. You don't think I'm human and I don't know what I am."

Jericho whisked the hat away into thin air, which sparkled like glitter for an instant. "Life's a joke and we're the punchline, bud. s**t happens, but we can at least make the joke a nice little gift to ourselves too. Save a thousand people, I won't kill whomever you choose. I'll put them away to that special little place called Wyoming. Nobody goes there. They get to live their lives out as long as fate allows them. You get to fight off demons and angels and Arnold Schwarzenegger if you want. Just say the word."

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