NSWRPF Archive Legio Angelus: Far From Heaven

IC: Azylain
A safe distance from the Roadhouse

"What the hell!"

The situation had already ruined any chance Azylain had for subtlety, and there was still a demon lurking at the infamous crossroads sure to be after the angel it sensed. Lacking any other option, Azylain explained, "You were on your way to the Crossroads, or so I was informed, to make a deal with a devil. You aren't the first to do it, but you're the first I've been tasked to save. Truth be told, I hadn't expected some of the others to actually go through with it, and in many cases, I liked the results too much to do anything about it.

"Anyways, I am an angel by nature and a musician by hobby, my name is Azylain. It goes against every code any angel has ever subscribed to, but complete honesty seems to be the best policy, given what you've already seen. The great battle between Heaven and Hell is nearly at hand. The queen of Light has taken her bow, and the Prince of Peace embraces the gloom and walks the night alone." He hoped the man would catch the reference to Led Zeppelin's "The Battle of Evermore". It was the most allegorical song he could think of, his mortal heart still racing, "And frankly, the fewer souls duped into the Adversary's service, the better."

Tag: Saint

---

IC: Mike Suthers[/b]
[i]St. John's[/i]

Mike dashed away, quickly finding the ancient-looking book. He returned just as quickly, letting a spent cigarette drop out of his mouth. He lit a new one after handing the book to the priest.

"Alright, Fido," he muttered to himself and to the dog allegedly inside him, "Time for you to earn your keep, boy. Le's go! Out with you."

After a few minutes of cajoling the nonexistant wolf, it eventually burst out from a light on Mike's heart. The great, golden wolf launched itself out the window and into the battlefield, leaving a suddenly serene Mike standing there, looking almost as though he were praying. His cigarette burned in his mouth, though he took no notice. Every animal instinct of his was in the wolf.

[b]Tag: St. John's Crew[/b]

 

GM Approved

Name: Harmon Dean

Gender: Male

Age: 79

Appearance: An elderly man with wrinkled pale skin, and a long white beard that has garnered him the nickname "Santa Claus" amongst local children, despite the slender build of his aging body. Harmon always walks with a cane and is hardly ever seen without a pipe in his mouth and a fedora atop his balding head.

Special ability: The power to see a small distance into the future.

Bio: Early in his life, Harmon Dean lived just like any other average American middle-class child, but he was no average young boy. Blessed with a tremendous amount of wisdom at birth, young Harmon was rarely seen without a book in his hands, books that children twice his age hadn't ever though of reading until they were twice their own ages. Consequently, he was often the victim of malicious bullies during school, but it never deterred him from his philosophical passion.

When Harmon was twelve, his father died tragically in World War II, and this took a damaging toll on his mother, who began to undergo a series of unhealthy habits. She died ten years later.

As Harmon grew into an adult, and his knowledge and wisdom expanded, he soon became respected amongst his peers. His intellectual insights into the philosophy of human life elevated him to a glorified status amongst American philosophers.

Until the very fateful day of August 14th, 1983. Harmon received a vision in his dreams of a great war between Heaven and Hell, raging on since the beginning of Creation itself, and soon after wrote to the American people about it. But when the article was published, Harmon was instantly regarded by the public as a mad-man and an advocate of Satan. His articles were burned all across the country, and he was banished, forbidden to ever speak of his beliefs again.

To this day, Harmon continues to be excluded from the world, living alone as a hermit. A very, very wise hermit.

 

IC: Ayda
Saint John of Patmos Church.
London, England

?Michael will have my head in a tray for this? Sighed the teenager, slapping her forehead with her hand. ?Let?s? acting irrationally and without a plan, allowing such a commotion to inform virtually every single light and dark being about out location, not to mention three human witnesses??

Ayda stopped and looked down at the tiny white dog, who was currently looking back at her, awaiting orders. He whimpered pitifully at the mention of confronting his owner?s Archangel, but then shot his tail up and barked.

?Yes, you?re right, little one? sighed the angel as she closed her eyes. ?I still say we shall never hear the end of it?

A bright light seemed to shine from within both bodies, only to disappear just as suddenly, leaving a wolf-like canine the size of a horse and a small twelve year old behind. A figure dashed in front of them.

?Achan*, dear?? she started ?Add: allowing a recently enlightened human to jump in the heat of battle with no experience whatsoever on how to handle a demon, will you??

The creature seemed to sigh, proudly shaking his soft, white fur and staring at the girl through bright orange eyes. He paced up to her and fixed his eyes to the principal door as the small kid climbed on his back.

?Father? commanded the girl, sitting upon the creature?s back comfortably ?When I give the word, take the girl, take Mike, and go find somewhere safe to hide?

A horrible scream of agony pierced through her very soul. Althing?s.

As if on cue, Achan moved to the church?s main entrance and then paced back, impatient. Ayda was restless as well, but could hide it quite well, except for her eyes, which blazed in anticipation and adrenaline for the battle to come. She could barely hold Achan -and herself- back from jumping out, but she waited instead, sitting upon the pacing white wolf.

As much as Ayda wanted to, she knew she couldn?t?not yet? her companions were outnumbered and it was only a matter of time before one or more of those?beings? managed to slip into the church. The blond angel wasn?t about to make such a silly mistake. She would be waiting for them.

?So, Father?? She asked after a while ?What does that book of yours tell you??

Tag: Father Cassus

 

GM OOC: NickLitYouAFlame: Heh ? I see what you did there. It was actually a mistake on my part during the last OOC ? I thought you were asking whether an angel can change to celestial form on a whim, rather than alter his celestial form. I?ll allow it because I?m bound by my own decisions, but I will make a rule that celestial forms can?t be changed without it being a dire necessity ? and there may well be divine repercussions because you?re interfering with how God originally intended your angel to be.

Otherwise, folks, well done on everyone?s posts! We?ve got just the right mix of sacred and sarcastic I was hoping for ?

And lastly, welcome to our newest player, Sentinel-825! Your start is below, and a little unique.


Book One (Cont'd.)


Thread #2: That Old Time Rock and Roll

Morkai, MoonlightsAngel, NickLitYouAFlame, SephyCloneNo15, Tiborax

Saint John of Patmos Church
London, England

Ayda shifting to celestial form sent another shout of light through the ether, and mixed with the confrontation the ripples rang out across the city.

In an ornate bedroom somewhere near Saint Paul?s Cathedral, the Archbishop of Cantebury frowned in his sleep, turning over as a nightmare drifted through his subconscious.

In Soho, Agnes Johnson, a witch of twenty years? experience, watched in surprise as the pendulum she?d been working with flicked out of her hand and flew across the room, impaling itself into the wall, pointed in the direction of Saint John of Patmos?s church.

And in Elizabeth II Hospital, if any of them cared to notice, Malik, Kane, and Azrael simultaneously felt a tremor across their spirits, a sensation akin to the human feeling of someone ?walking across one?s grave.?

At Saint John?s, though, the combatants were little concerned with it.

Caliban, in angelic form, had the advantage on the creature ? Curunir, his memory whispered, his name is Curunir ? and fast though the demon was, in human form his speed was still not equal to that of an angel. Caliban?s blade sang through the air, and connected with Curunir?s shoulder as the demon dodged aside. There was a flash of brilliance, and the demon spun away clutching its shoulder, blood splashing onto the ground from the cut. But quick as Caliban had been, he hadn?t severed anything ? just left the demon a wound.

Caliban didn?t have the chance to follow up, though. The three demons struck first.

Free of the influence of Althing?s whirlwind, they acted in defence of their leader. They gestured as one, invoking the telekinetic abilities each had. Caliban was torn off his feet by three invisible hands and thrown back into the wall of the church, brickwork shattering. Two of the demons came arrowing in at him, fists leading, intending to smash his body through the wall. The third swooped towards the window that Caliban had opened.

To be met by a golden wolf ? Mike Suther?s wolf, snarling as it leapt through the shattered window. The demon dodged in the air and barreled through the window, entering the house of God.

The wolf, though, was noticed by another: the two vampires who were shaking their heads to clear the dazed feeling from being thrown through brickwork. They snarled, baring pointed teeth, and charged the golden wolf.

Curunir took this in with a shimmerblink of thought, then turned his attention to the metal tree that was Althing blocking the entrance. The demon grinned, wincing against the pain in his shoulder. ?You think that?ll save you, wingboy?? said Curunir, and his voice was cold like black ice.

The demon took a deep breath in, and raised his outstretched, lineless palm.

Fire burst from the centre. Fire from the forges of Hell. Fire hot enough to melt metal. And that fire burst in a wide cone, bathing Althing in flame

 

IC: Ayda
Saint John of Patmos Church.
London, England

?We are causing enough disturbances to wake the whole world? Michael is so getting me for this?

As the angel allowed her mind to drift, she was nearly knocked down from her place upon the celestial animal by a demon. Without giving Achan (AY-kan) any order, the creature leaped in front of the humans, baring his long, pearly fangs.

?How dare you enter this sacred place?? Ayda?s soft, childish voice was suddenly carried out throughout the church, not loudly, on the contrary, it was so soft, intimidating; so icy, it could stop a rhino on his tracks.

The girl?s eyes seemed to blaze with power as she pierced a hole through the demon -not literally obviously-. She heard Althing scream again, and her eyes narrowed in anger.

?Be gone, you foul creature, or I shall drag you and your companions to the fiery pits of Hell myself and watch you burn until my anger has died down?

One didn?t need to be a genius to realize Ayda?s wasn?t an empty threat. As if to back the angel up, Achan started growling warningly-


Tag: G,. Church

 

OOC: Alright, I will keep the changing rule in mind. Oh and my celestial form is going to revert back to it's orignal veiw after the fight.

IC: Althing
Outside St. John?s

Althing silently watched in his tree form as Caliban faced of with Curunir. Caliban struck the demon on the shoulder. The wound ore through flesh, but not all the way. Curunir was left with a huge gash, but the angel?s victory was short-lived. Nearly immediately after, two of the three weaker demons attacked him and one more passed a golden wolf on the way into the church. Althing smiled inside at the fact that the wolf was Mike. Then two vampires emerged from the cement of the buildings not far off and now targeted Suthers.

Suddenly searing pain blasted through Althing, for the second time that night. Even as a tree, Althing screamed. His cry was heard through ripples in the Celestial universe all around London. Even though the pain was great it was nothing compared to the first attack. And this time Curunir?s fire playing was going to backfire. Althing wasn?t rendered incapable of function this time around. With a surprising turn of events, Althing?s metallic branches groaned. He whipped two of them around and went to wrap the coils around his attackers arms.

Tag: Saint

 

IC: Caliban

St John's

Caliban shrugged out of the wall, shivering his wings to dislodge shards of brickwork, his eyes blazed with anger as he saw the lesser daemons arrowing towards him. Just as they reached him his free hand shot out, they stopped in mid air, snarling their hatred at him. With a snarl of his own Caliban's sword leaped out horizontally, the blade of white fire streaking across their throats with blinding speed.

TAG: All

 

IC - Daniel Rathmore

Put the gun down!

On the ground, now!

Officer down. Repeat, Officer down!

Every seemed like a haze to Daniel. Shouts from all angles, gun to his head, a dead officer's blood trickling along like an unforgiving river nearby. It just didn't make any sense at all. Perhaps it really was a dream ... or more likely a really, really bad nightmare.

The stranger, his arm firmly rapped around Daniel's chest, didn't seemed fazed at all. In fact, he was surprisingly calm. Surely that wasn't possible, was it? In this kind of situation, as Daniel had studied over and over again, the man with the gun was always the one to make the loudest commotion.

Jesus Christ, don't kill me, please!

"I said, put the gun down!" the officers continued shouting, their own firearms pointed squarely at the unlikely pair.

"Look, I'm a lawyer. I can defend you ... two, three years max, good behaviour will get you out in one" Hayden whispered, trying to gain the strangers attention without him overreacting.

tag: Hammurabi, Saintheart

 

IC: Mike's Wolf
Outside St. John's

The extension of Mike's animal side snarled as it leapt into the battlefield. It was quickly able to ascertain which beings were fighting those who were attacking it. It knew not to harm them. As for the rest, the wolf leapt into a frenzy sinking its teeth into one of the Vampire's shoulders and clamping down hard. The poor creature could do nothing to dislodge the wolf.

Their leader could, whether he intended it or not. The intense wave of Hellfire caused the wolf immense pain, although no visible damage, and it could not keep its grip amid the pain.

The Hellfire had the beneficial effect of showing the Wolf the real threat, and it leapt at the Hellfire-spewing demon, teeth bared...

Tag: St. John's

---

IC: Mike Suthers[/b]
[i]Inside St. John's[/i]

To any observers who hadn't suspected something when Mike shut up and stood still, they would definitely realize something was up when his cigarette, largely a collumn of pale gray ash, burned down to its filter, fell out of his mouth, and was not replaced.

[b]Tag: St. John's
[hr]
IC: Azylain[/b]
[i]Outside the Roadhouse

?Look, man, I don?t know what you thought you were trying to pull back there, but I can tell when I?ve been having too many pills. You think you?re an angel, fine, whatever. I?ve got a guy to go meet.?[/i]

"So you can tell when you've had too many pills, eh?" Azylain asked, "Even if there would be some effect on my divine essence, I've never touched the stuff. Even in the sixties, in the midst of Woodstock and Jim Morrison's self-destruction, music has been the only substance I have ever needed to enjoy music. Being the one free of intoxicants, I think I'm the one who should be trusted in this matter."

Suddenly, an idea occurred to the angel. It was a longshot, but it might work. He ran in front of Will Brown, cutting him off on his walk to the Crossroads. "You're following Robert Johnson's footsteps, right? Selling your soul to become a famous musician, right? Lemme make you an offer: Over the years I've become quite the music connosieur. You've got your guitar. Let's hear what you got. Maybe you don't need the Devil, just connections. If I like your sound, I'll try to find you a record deal. If you're terrible and the Devil's the only one who could coerce something that doesn't sound like a dying Iguana out of that thing, I'll leave you alone. Deal?"

[b]Tag: Saint[/b]

 

IC: Harmon Dean
The Targee Pass,
Montana, United States

Harmon rested his body on the comfortable wooden rocking chair his father had built years and years ago, listening to the crackling of the fireplace before him and the squeaking of the chair as it rocked back and forth. He listened to the calm breathing of his loyal golden retriever, resting his head on his paws on the green rug beneath his furry body. He listened to the wind blowing his wind chimes outside, and the light snowflakes as they fell gracefully from the blue sky above.

For an old man, Harmon Dean sure had good hearing.

But for some odd reason that he couldn't comprehend, Harmon felt a bit different today. There was a feeling in his gut that he couldn't quite perceive, but something was there, and something was out of place. He didn't know if it was the change in seasons, or something much more complex, but he was curious nevertheless.

He suddenly saw, out of the corner of his eye, his dog's ears perk up, and then his head quickly lifted from his paws. "What is it, boy?" the old man inquired. The dog, whom Harmon had named Abraham in honor of the greatest president in the history of the United States, turned his head and faced the back of the small house. "Abraham?" Harmon turned his head to try and see what had aroused the young dog when he saw it. A bright blue light. "Good Heavens..."

The old man lifted himself from his rocking chair as quickly as he could, which wasn't all that quick, grabbed his sturdy wooden cane and limped towards the back door, Abraham curiously following behind him.

Tag: Saintheart

 

GM OOC: I should say for the benefit of those in the various threads that I?m not inventing demon powers as I go; I?ve got their levels and abilities chosen and had them ready to go right from the start.


Book One (Cont?d.)


Thread #2: That Old Time Rock and Roll

Morkai, MoonlightsAngel, SephyCloneNo15, NickLitYouAFlame, Tiborax

Saint John of Patmos Church
London, England

Althing, his celestial form smoking from the unholy fire still caressing his metal limbs, whipped arms out to Curunir, and was successful ? the metallic branches whipped around the demon, going for the arms. This had two unexpected side-effects.

Firstly, whether because of infernal coordination or a lack of planning, Mike Suther?s leap came at the precise moment that Althing?s celestial-metal arms wrapped around the demon. The golden wolf therefore received not the mouthful of flesh it had anticipated, but rather five-inch-thick angel-forged steel.

The crack of impact was audible across the square as Mike smashed into the metallic branch and fell, dazed, to the ground. This gave the two vampires pursuing him an opportunity to jump onto the wolf again, fangs bared, keens of darkness screeching in the night.

The second side-effect was what Curunir did.
He began laughing, even as the branches wrapped around him and his body bruised. Althing registered that the damage he was doing was not anywhere near what should have happened; the demon seemed to be physically hardened in some way.

The demon gasped with mirth. ?I don?t know what?s more pathetic ? your form, or your belief that I can be harmed by my own fire!?

And on the last word, Curunir exploded into flame, his body igniting from one end to the other, though he didn?t seem to burn. But Althing did. The fire was hot enough to melt metal, and the angel was clutching something akin to an oversized firecracker right to his body, blasting it for a third time with a hotter fire than the angel had ever felt before.

Caliban could smell angel-flesh burning, but his mind was trained on his strike with his weapon. The white fire of his blade sang with power. The two demons had clearly underestimated him and had come in too close, and their mortal forms were no match for his speed.

Two heads arced up into the night as Caliban?s blade cut through both necks. The bodies immediately collapsed to the ground, and Caliban could sense the shadows lift as the two demons slid back into the pit of Hell.

Within the church, the cowering girl screamed as the demon grinned evilly at her lone protector ? an angel riding a wold. ?Well,? it said in reply to Ayda?s threat, floating a few feet before the window. ?I don?t know how you?re planning to send me back to Hell if you can?t fly, wingless one. Still?it?s been a while, Ayda. How?s that little charge of yours these days? See her around Heaven much??

Without waiting for a response, the demon did something. The skin of its flying mortal form seemed to split from within, as if cracks had opened up on a pit of lava, and the mortal form sloughed away. Wide bat wings opened and began to sway. The face melted into a visage with cruel, high cheekbones, seductive eyes, and a body that mortal males would find difficult to resist. A heavy mace appeared in one hand.

Relieved of its mortal form, and in its true, celestial state, the demon shrieked her high laughter and hurled a fireball from the palm of its hand in Ayda?s direction, hovering out of reach.

TAG: Morkai, MoonlightsAngel, SephyCloneNo15, NickLitYouAFlame, Tiborax


Thread #4: ?I went down to the crossroads??

SephyCloneNo15

A Roadside, Burling, Louisiana
United States of America

?You think a record deal?s gonna solve my problems?? said William Brown bitterly as he

 

IC: Caliban

St John's

Caliban looked up from the misshapen bodies lying crumpled on the cracked and pitted road to see Althing bursting into flames again, with his branches still firmly wrapped around the fire encased daemon. In a movement to fast for a human eye to follow Caliban dashed across to the inferno, behind the fallen one "IN YOUR NAME" he cried out and with all the strength and speed granted him by god he drove his sword in towards the daemons exposed back.

TAG: All

 

(ooc: Not sure if it was clear at any point, but my intention with Mike's power was that the wolf was a separate entity from Mike. When it shows up his body is left behind, devoid of any instinct or fight-or-flight responses or reactions or anything)

IC: Azylain
Headin' down to the Crossroads

Azylain shuddered. The devil at the Crossroads was getting more definite, and they were getting closer, despite all the angel's attempts to turn Will around. "The Smokehouse Boys? I thought your name sounded familiar when I was sent here. I can't say I was personally able to watch over you guys -there's a lot of fledgling musicians who need a guardian angel like me- but I heard a good sound from you guys."

Now that he had caught up, he asked the other question Willie Brown had brought on, "If it's not fame you want, what're you headin' to the Crossroads for?"

Tag: Saint

---

IC: The Wolf[/b]

The flaw with being, at your core, little more than animalistic instincts and beastly rage, is that often the animal's desire to save face, as if retaliating against a rival for the leadership of a pack or other organization, overrides any logic or concept of hierarchy.

Thus it was that everything animalistic about Mike Suthers found itself leaping up the melting tree of Althing and leaping towards the exposed flaming extremities of the head demon.

[b]Tag: St. John's[/b]

 

Father Cassus watched everything unfold rather fast. Ayda was asking questions, the battle was raging outside, and above all, he was trying to read. He flipped through the pages, trying his hardest to keep his concentration with all of the banging and screaming coming from outside.

"Well, if I can name the demon, I can find the proper incantation to banish it. However, I can't see it, so that makes things rather--"

He was cut short as a chill suddenly ran down his spine. He looked up to see the demon, floating at the broken church window. He had a sudden instinct; the mortal form of the demon seemed familiar somehow. He quickly flipped his book to "C" and began skimming the pages. It was only a few moments, however, before a distinctly horrifying sound forced him to look up again. He saw the demon's mortal form splitting open, a grotesque winged beast bursting out from beneath the human shell. He recognized it almost instantly; he had seen it before in his studies and in ancient carvings. He flipped three pages over, revealing a detailed drawing of a very similar-looking creature.

"Curunir...The Artisan of Hell..."

He then heard one scream cut high above the others, and watched a sword blade explode from the demon's chest, right where his heart would be. THe demon, however, seemed strangely unfazed. Father Cassus looked down to the page.

"The Artisan cannot be destroyed by weapons, although he can be harmed..."

There was only one thing he could do, then. He had to use his faith. He turned to face the demon, grabbing his bishop's cross and holding it high.

"If you take so much as one step into this church, you shall be bound by the power of God; this I swear."

TAG: St. John's

 

IC: Harmon Dean
The Targee Pass,
Montana, United States of America

Harmon found himself at a loss for words at that moment in time as his cane wobbled slightly beneath his hand, and apparently, so had Abraham, who stared at the stranger blankly, his tail totally inert. Had an angel been sent to him from the Heavens above? Was this about the war? Surely the Angels would not involve humans in such a conflict. Surely they had some sort of code in place that would prevent such an act. But then again... perhaps this wasn't an Angel.

"My word," Harmon finally found the brain power to say. "What is this about?"

Tag: Saintheart

 

GM OOC: Relax, everyone ... this update is just for our 'solo artists', so to speak. Couple of other people are still due to chime in on #2 and #3. I'm assuming the boys on Thread #1 are caught up with Darth RL at the moment, so I'll patiently await one of them to say something in response to Randy1012...


Book One (Cont'd.)


Thread #4: "I went down to the crossroads..."

SephyCloneNo15

Roadside,
Burling, Louisiana

William Brown turned to look at Azylain again. His forty-five-year-old heart was whirling with despair and a pitiful, grasping hope. "I want to be able to play this guitar the way I used to," he said, raising the rectangular guitar case emblazoned Fender a little. "The way I did when I was twenty-one. I've had this guitar for fifteen years. Right up until we got the record deal, this guitar was my inspiration. You reckon you heard a good sound from the Smokehouse Boys? Apart from the fact I think you're lying your punk-rock butt off, you're right. Stevie Ray Vaughn ripped off a song I wrote using this axe. You put me and the boys in a Texas bar with an amplifier and we'd have half the women in the place in our hotel rooms ninety minutes later. But after we made that damn album, everything changed. I couldn't do it. The guitar would tune up fine, but I just ... couldn't get anything out of it any more."

William Brown suddenly looked around, a look of puzzlement on his face and a gnawing of fear in his heart. Azylain didn't have to follow his gaze. The ether had already spoken, whispering to the angel's senses, and the particular magic of this part of the world had responded. Although they'd physically only walked about fifty metres together, the roadside stop of Burling had disappeared. It hadn't winked out of existence; it had just ... faded, somehow, like an old pair of jeans.

The truck stop of Burling was replaced by yellow cornfields, wind rustling through like the voices of a crowd getting impatient for a show. The tarmac-top of Route 214 had shifted under Azylain's feet into a densely-packed white-dirt road stretching off both ways into the distance ... except for a crossroads about a hundred feet away from them, a bent, gnarled tree in the northwestern corner stretching over the intersection like an accusing finger. Overhead, storm clouds rolled.

Azylain couldn't see whatever it was that the human was planning to meet, but he could sense it, even in mortal form. Next to him, William Brown's puzzlement subsided, replaced by a fatalistic resignation. He looked at Azylain again. "I don't expect you to understand what that does to a man."

He turned towards the crossroads.

TAG: SephyCloneNo15


Thread #5: International man of Mystery

Sentinel-825

The Targee Pass,
Montana, United States

The man with the clipboard had a serene smile on his face, but then looked at his watch. This was quite disconcerting to Harmon Dean, who prided himself on noticing small details as a part of his profession -- because the man hadn't had a watch on ten seconds ago.
"I really think," said the man, his smile drooping just a little, "that we should perhaps have this conversation in about twenty seconds' time. If you wouldn't mind stepping out of the house and following me?"

TAG: Sentinel-825

 

GM Approved, Picture & All

Ex-Angel Now Human:
Name: Michelle Nikita
Gender: Female
Age: Ancient, Though the body would say 24
Appearance: Fair white skin, long and wavy dark brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, 5'9" in height: Photo at bottom of CS
Special ability: ?Calm oneself and look into thine eyes, through them may peace be found? - able to, after mentally concentrating intensely, make any living thing (human, animal, or celestial) have a feeling of peace as long as they hold a gaze with her; ?Blessed be thy life, gracious must be one to accept it, honored must they be to live it? - Able to, with extreme concentration, able to give temporary life (doesn?t last for long, a few hours at most) to simple things. Basically animating objects. Pencils, cups, swords, and the like. Bigger things such as cars take even more focus and only last for minutes. One hour max and that?s usually a matter of ?luck.?

Bio: Michelle Nikita, a human, so it would seem. But it was not always that way. Michelle used to be an angel, a celestial serving the Divine Will. A follower of the Archangel of Creation, Raphael. And had personally aided in the creation of a number of creatures on Earth, such as hyenas, dolphins, canaries, and even butterflies. Though she personally prides herself for being the one who alone came up with the concept (if not the actual creation of) of dogs. She has a strong and passionate love toward them. Them and butterflies. She has a fondness toward humans as well, though usually not as much as with butterflies and dogs. This was what caused her fall. She became too attached to her creations. Even if they weren?t directly hers.

The classic and dramatic, though not nearly as frequent as humans think, story of an angel falling in love with that of a lesser being. She never truly showed her affection either, like that of a human story would go, there was no passionate romance. No intimate sessions between man and angel. Just her watching. Always watching. A man who lived his life, a man who knew what life was really about. A man who knew what was right and wrong. A man with priorities, with morals, with honor. And though she never said it out loud or truly showed it as he went living on Earth, she loved him.

And one day, his life came to a close. And she watched. But not in the way she always did, she watched with horror. Normally it was lovingly, peacefully, or calmly detached despite any circumstances. She had made deals and secret talks with Azrael, Danyael, & Gabriel and their underlings before. To help benefit this man and make life easier for him. But not too often, she couldn?t afford being discovered. Her secret being found.

Yet, this time it all changed. She no longer cared. She loved this man and could not bear to see him die. He had been murdered by another human, trying to get money off him. She let the murderer flee unhurt, despite her anger and panic. She still would obey the rules of the Angels. But she disobeyed in the effect of flying to Earth immediately and coming upon his body before all others. She held him in her arms and cried, her tears having temporary death halting powers back then like elves in a fantasy setting. She held onto him and prevented his death as long as she could. She controlled all animals in the immediate vicinity to put up a screen so no other human could come near. But it would not stop an angel.

An underling and follower of Azrael eventually came to the scene and discovered Michelle?s truth. She was taken to argue her case for the human?s life. In the end it was decided the man was not allowed to live, this could not be allowed. It was his destiny and time. And she would get off with a simple reprimand as loving one was not a offense.

But to her, this was bad enough. She could not, would not sit idly by as humans came and went with her potentially falling in love with more and this happening time and time again. With all the other angels looking at her strangely as well for

 

Elizabeth II Hospital; London, England
-Angel of Gabriel, Kane

Kane stared at Jason Carver before turning to Malik then back to the Doctor.

"In truth, we have never met the doctor before, but we have followed his studies and research for quite some time. I admire the doctor greatly, as do my companions." He said, his voice suddenly much more mature than it had been a few minutes ago. "We wanted to talk to him about his research before the awards ceremony. Some people don't want the Doctor to survive the awards ceremony and don't want his discovery to come out, fearing it will change man somehow. Letting the ones who should be dead live. Disrupting a holy balance."

Kane knew that lying to this man more, would only make him not trust them, so by giving him a little of the truth, Kane wouldn't have to feel worse than he already did. "We are here to ensure his safety and make sure all goes well for him. Now excuse us."

Kane was gone in a flash down the hall towards the stairwell. The elevator was an invention that Kane didin't trust. Anything could happen and they would not be able to protect him. He needed to be in celestial form, something he would do at the slightest threat of demons, but for now stealth was key and he had to keep that tool his until the right time.

-Elizabeth II Hospital

 

IC: Azylain
The Crossroads

"I don't expect you to understand what that does to a man."

Of every part of his conversation with Willie Brown, this was the part that struck a chord -no pun intended- with Azylain. He couldn't expect the man to believe how long Azylain had really been a music fan, but he hoped the man had at least some concept that the angel knew what he was talking about.

"I've never had to deal with it personally," he felt like he was shouting, the effort of talking through the demonic air, "But I've seen it plenty of times." Probably wisely, he opted not to speak of Homer's darker days, "I don't know what I can tell you, other than that I work with a lot of miracle workers, but I can guarantee you whatever he," he pointed in the general direction of the crossroad, his finger wavering trying to pinpoint the exact location of the not-yet-manifest demon, "has to offer won't be worth the price."

The mortal-shaped angel was shaking in his Converse All-Stars. He was never a fighting angel -the Bards in RPGs were sometimes said to be modeled after him: Not fighters, but great at 'buffing' the fighters- and if he couldn't get Will away, he couldn't guarantee either of them would have a happy ending.

Tag: Saint

 

IC: Harmon Dean
The Targee Pass,
Montana, United States

Harmon clenched his teeth at the man's (he assumed it was a man) unwillingness to tell him what the current situation was all about. But, unfortunately, Harmon knew that he would do as he said, as he had a feeling that this meeting was pretty important. Whether or not it had to do with the war between Heaven and Hell, he didn't quite know.

He looked down at Abraham, and rubbed the back of the dog's ear. "You stay here, boy," he said at the dog, who tilted his head to the side. "I'll be back soon." Though Harmon didn't know if he would or not, the dog grumbled and trotted back into the house to his bowl of food. Harmon smiled, grabbed his coat, and headed outside.

"Let's go," he said with a wave of his hand, motioning the man to wherever it was he was taking him. "I think icicles are forming on my beard already."

Tag: Saintheart

 

IC: Althing
Outside St. John?s

Tremors raked Althing?s metallic form. Even as a celestial he was in more pain than was imaginable. Everything was swaying and his ?arms? began dropping. The pain was wearing him down. Soon his health would reach zero and he would be sent back to heaven until he was able to return to earth. Inside Althing?s silent tree he was screaming at his weakness. He shouldn?t be being defeated so easily. He realized that trying to contain the demon was doing no good. He released Curunir and brought all of his branches together. He quickly formulated his last stand in this battle. The tentacles began twisting and reached into the earth.

From the view of anyone there it would seem he was trying to dig away. In the heart of the tree, Althing was really utilizing one of his mortal powers. That would be now strengthened as an angel. With all of his appendages into the earth he began to glow bright green and with blinding intensity. The light from his body began to overpower the fire and then it was as if the flames were extinguished. The tree returned a laugh to the demon that consisted of it shaking.

Althing released his branches from the earth and he came back now about as powerful as he would ever be. He had used the metal branches to reach into the earth and sap strength from plants all over. His entire range had been near the size of London. He never sucked enough to kill just leave the plants weak and him strong. Now with a renewed strength he brought his tentacles up above the trunk of the tree and began swirling them. His celestial presence would be overwhelming which should warn any enemies from coming. He knew that he would black out soon, but he needed to give the angel and humans something to fight for. He needed to give them hope.

While the demon Curunir still threw flames at Althing, he was no longer feeling the pain. It had been numbed now. With lightning quick speed the ?arms? of Althing went twirling at blazing speeds towards the demon.

Tag: Saint, St. John?s

 

Borachio
The Hospital

An ache in his leg forced Borachio to sit down. He lowered himself to a bench across the hall, and looked up at Carver. Before he could respond, Kane spoke. Borachio grimaced. He'd hoped to keep this off for a while longer; Carver didn't need to know who they really were.

But now, it seemed, this information could save their cause.

Borachio glared as Kane shot off down the hallway. He looked to Malik, nodding slowly. He only hoped the other angel would understand.

"Doctor, we are not who we appear to be. That much is true. Our work brings us here tonight to ensure a balance is achieved. We are here to help Doctor Eltiades, indeed, to help you all. His work has created powerful enemies, enemies that wish to destroy him, to destroy you."

Borachio rested his hands on his cane.

"But it has also brought powerful allies. It has brought us." His eyes displayed a power greater than the weak shell he inhabited, and he stared straight into Carver's. He had to know.

"I give you a choice, Jason Carver: leave in peace, and forget this night and the trouble it has brought...or learn what your world truly contains, what truly occurs on the face of this mortal soil."

Tag: Randy, Winged, Blu, Saint

 

IC: Ayda
St. John of Patmos Church.

Ayda?s mismatched eyes narrowed dangerously as Achan jumped out of the way, the fire hitting the floor in which his massive paws had been on seconds before.

?Father? her voice called to the human behind her, her eyes fixed upon the mocking demon before her ?Take Mike?s body, the child and hide, now?

The demon tried to approach both humans, only to have Ayda?s holy whip lash out at her, aimed for her eyes. She backed away and glared at the angel before chuckling softly.

?I see? Struck a chord there, hmm?? she asked, fixing her eyes upon the angel.

She was right. Ayda hated being called wingless one, not to mention this creature had the guts to mention Isabella.

?I see Satan finally forgave you? she stated icily, her face held no emotion ?I am surprised. After all, you did mess up that time, eh? I never thought I would see such terror in your eyes? what did he do??

With a quick movement of her wrist, Ayda?s whip seemed to come to life, jumping from it?s limp position to shot out, aiming at the demon?s throat.

With her right hand, the angel produced a hidden kunai from the depths of her dress, waiting for an opening.

Tag: Saint. Father Cassus.

 

Jason Carver
Queen Elizabeth II Hospital

"God, I really am going crazy," Jason muttered, bringing a hand to his head. The other two men didn't laugh, however. They were deadly serious.

He lowered his hand as he stared into Borachio's gaze, his own eyes widening slightly. "You really aren't kidding, are you?" he asked, shaking his head. The doctor couldn't tear his eyes from Borachio's. There was something more there, some otherworldly quality. A strength and power that such an old man shouldn't have.

Carver finally managed to look away, and he turned his gaze down the hall to the elevator Eltiades had used. He could get into that elevator, leave the hospital, go home, and go to bed and forget all of this. But something in his heart was telling him not to. Jason had lived without faith for a very long time. Maybe now it was time to start again.

He swallowed and looked at Borachio and Malik again. He had made his decision.

"Tell me everything."

TAG: Peng, Winged

 

Borachio
The Hospital

Borachio smiled. "Good."

Standing slowly, he placed a hand on Carver's shoulder. Now was a delicate moment, one that could not go awry. "There are some things I will tell you that will seem like your first breath of life. Some things will make sense like nothing else has in life, and others will make you wish you'd not made this decision."

He squeezed the man's shoulder lightly, a paternal gesture. He didn't want to scare the lad, but some of these things would terrify him. "Know this: the choice you made tonight brings with it knowledge of a greater power. Knowledge that will frighten you, that will give you hope when you need it most."

The angel brought himself to his full height. It wasn't much, but it helped. Borachio spoke his next words with all the ceremony he could muster.

"Jason Carver - there is more to this world than what you see and feel. There is good and evil, and there is a greater power which watches over us all. Call this power what you may - it matters not. There is the great evil which tempts us all, led by one of our number, fallen since the beginning of time into darkness and despair. There is good and evil, and they are constantly at war."

Borachio paused. "Our battleground is your world. We - Malik, Kane, and myself - serve the light. We are Celestial beings. We are angels."

Borachio looked for a reaction on Carver's face. "We have come here to help Doctor Eltiades. His work could save many lives, and the Greater Power knows this. So does the darkness. We are here to protect, and to ensure the survival of Doctor Eltiades."

Borachio smiled again. "We are friends, Jason Carver. Allies in this time of growing darkness."

Tag: Randy, WInged, Blu, Saint