Remnants of Heaven.. (IC)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Cameron182 on 28-04-2011, 09:33:03</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Remnants of Heaven.. (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cameron182</strong> on <strong>28-04-2011, 09:33:03</strong>
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				(http://media.screened.com/uploads/0/733/219358-wasteland_large.jpg)<br><br><strong>35 Miles Southeast of Phoenix, Arizona</strong><br><br><br>The slaughter never ceased, not for him anyways.<br><br>A simple movement of his right wing pulled his body effortlessly out of the way of a slashing sword wielded by a low-level demon. His left hand was already in motion before the evasion had even begun, gripping around the hilt of his own weapon as he ripped it outwards, feeling almost no resistance as it sliced through the demon that was approaching him from behind. With lightning speed his right hand shot forward, with the palm of his hand he gripped the creature's forehead as an ear-splitting scream lit the area, seemingly from the pressure being applied to the beast's skull. He then applied more pressure with his thumb and twisted counter-clockwise, feeling the demon's bones snapping with the motion as it dropped limply to the ground.<br><br>The tattered and frayed, battle-worn wings of the Archangel tucked around his form as he stepped into the doorway of what appeared to be an old courthouse. Once inside he returned to the fight once more, gripping his blade in both hands as he unleashed into his opponents. His long black hair flew around his face as he spun into a low circle, bringing his blade through another beast. His icy blue eyes danced as he moved, never ceasing to take in information of the battle around him, every minute detail was absorbed into his thought process as he planned ahead the next fifteen steps without even taking the first. Every move was precise and fluid, each strike ended with the death of another opponent, no movement was wasted, even his evasions turned into vicious counter-attacks. This was his element, his whole purpose for being, he was the Archangel of Death and it was not a hollow title. <br><br>It hadn't been difficult to spot the small nest of demons, the rest of the town had been either burned to the ground or been long ago abandoned, this building however appeared to be somewhat maintained and occupied. Even if it hadn't been that obvious, he could feel the demons for miles. At first he had wondered why such a small group would be stationed this far out from any of the remaining cities in this part of what used to be known as 'Arizona'. However then he realized that this was on one of the major supply routes used by the humans in this area, and this particular town was located very near a stretch of highway that was a part of the route, even more importantly though it was a stretch of highway that was perfect for an ambush. <br><br>Now it seemed... they were the ones on the receiving end of an ambush. <br><br>The intricate carvings and symbols along the length of his blade began to fill with the color of blood as the blade became drenched, cutting through wave after wave of demons, it seemed they had packed far more creatures into this space than he'd originally realized. It was of no real importance, these were nothing more than demons, insects beneath his feet, let it be fifty, a hundred, they still couldn't best an Archangel even on their best day, let alone the Archangel whose entire duty was to hunt and destroy them. It didn't take long to cut through their ranks, leaving behind a mountain of gore that was spread across the wide central room of the building. As he cut down the final demon, he came to a total of 29. <br><br>A scowl took over his features as he turned towards the front doorway of the building and began walking. He slung his blade to the right, flinging the blood off of its now smooth and polished surface before sliding it home within its sheathe on his back. <br><br>29... he was getting rusty. Normally 29 would have been much easier to handle, but he had almost felt himself become overwhelmed for a minute and it had startled him. He brushed it off as nothing more than his two-hundred plus years of imprisonment within Hell. Which to anyone that's ever been to Hell, is much longer than two-hundred years. It was very easy to lose yourself there, to lose track of time, your goals, even your sanity. With Azazel as his tormentor and Lucifer's constant badgering to join his cause, he was amazed he'd made it out in the shape that he had. <br><br>The thought of Lucifer brought anger to him. He still remembered the day of the battle...the day that had started the first civil war on Heaven. Azrael had been away on assignment, only to return and discover that Lucifer had indeed acted on the plan that he'd tried to pull Azrael into, and he'd attacked Heaven, taking a large handful of angels with him before being cast out. He could still remember returning home to the devastation they had left, the carcasses of his fallen brothers and sisters laying around him, the violation to his home was heartbreaking. It was on this day that he had first truly felt the emotion of anger, the way it had lit up his senses, he had felt overflowing with the desire for vengeance, however Ariel had been there to calm his thoughts, as if she could read his mind she had whispered to him, "To go would be suicide... live to fight another day..." It was very simple advice, but he knew it was true and he listened.<br><br>"I hope you made it out...." He said softly, his thoughts on Ariel as he exited the building, reaching out with his right hand to tap along the doorway as he departed and as he pulled his hand away, a glowing handprint stayed in its place. As he continued onwards flames suddenly burst from the handprint, spreading across the building's interior as if it had been soaked in gasoline. Within seconds the entire building was ablaze, casting an eerie glow onto the shattered town around it, silhouetting Azrael's form. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Remnants of Heaven.. (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kate</strong> on <strong>28-04-2011, 14:42:06</strong>
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				<div align="center"> Arch-Demoness Depheree (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=104905.msg4557098#msg4557098)<br><br></div><div align="center">(http://projectvisual.net/photos/nikon_d300/february09/13-sacre-coeur-morning-d300-photography.jpg)</div><br><strong>"Ostentatious ?" </strong>The Arch-Demoness murmured to herself, adoring the sound of her own echo <strong>"... most certainly"</strong><br><br>Her snort of white powder was performed from a silver collection plate of the Sacre Coeur, one of Paris' most magnificent buildings that overlooked the entire metropolis ... which happened to also be a Cathedral.<br><br>Well ... was.<br><br>Depheree had not vandalized it however, but desecrating could be easily claimed after what she put in motion while under its roof. Already some of the most secure buildings of the city were creating narcotics of the likes the world had not seen. Pure, and given away. For free. Within days of Paris falling Depheree had a group of addicts which she send on minor missions with a stock of what they now loved in equal measure to what they once did. She was not interested in ruining their lives, nor depriving them of their choice or causing pain, she just needed to have a small loyal network beyond her own demonkin quickly for her aspirations .<br><br>Fights still continued in occasional suburbs, but the core of Paris was hers. Technically Lucifer could march in at any time claiming reign but Dephree had not seen him in some time, and almost always Lucifer was somewhere else up to something that Dephree had little knowledge of. He didn't care to explain his motives, Dephree didn't care to ask. <br><br>What she liked above all was the freedom choices felt when with him, and Paris well was ...&nbsp; <strong>"Such a magnificent City, Good thing you survived World War Two reasonably intact"</strong><br><br><strong>"Your thinking of Venice or other romantic Cities also Mistress?" </strong>the servant which had offered the platter of narcotics inquired<br><br><strong>"Yes, unless another Arch-Demon has their eyes on it, in which case perhaps we can come to some arrangement, they can choose some building here that they can call a holiday home, and perhaps likewise I have one there... but still... Paris is not mine yet, the fringes are still being decided, and even if it was there is a lot of work to do before my boarders start growing. I wonder what the other Fallen are up to ? I have not talked to any of them in ages.... No rush I suppose."</strong><br><br>Dephree looked up to the domed ceiling above her while sniffing once,&nbsp; twice then three times to settle the sensation in her nose.<br><br>(http://www.roamingkiwis.com/R%20Paris%20Mont%20Martre%20Bassililica%20Sacre%20Coeur%20%283%29.jpg)<br><br><strong>"Oh Christ you really are confusing. I never really got what you were on about"<br></strong><br><br>Taking an interest in seeing the painting closer Dephree launched herself into the air, her long wings beating slowly to keep her aloft ... merely inches away she leaned her head to the side and contemplated the depiction with large honest eyes.<br><br><strong>"Perhaps I may never know or understand, for when sacred books about you is read they just go on and on about who begot who ... who was the son of son of ra ra ra. I always drift off before really learning anything. Perhaps I should pay attention but there is always something more interesting to do you know ?"</strong><br><br>Sighing she stopped beating her wings and fell like a pin to land perfectly and silently on thin inhumanly strong legs.<br><br><strong>"Out of respect for what I don't know though, I have forbidden any of my order here defacing your temple" </strong>she bowed then smiled at the image mischievously before taking a deep gulp from a gold wine cup usually reserved for service of the confirmed.<br><br><strong>"Shiraz ? You do have taste ! Not a bad taste at all for the Blood of Christ, but those little coin bread things are over rated.... If they really are your flesh I am tasting... well lets say no wonder your generally thought of as sexless"</strong><br><br>She saluted the painting with the hand still holding the cup of wine then shook her head distantly.<br><br><strong>"Hope you don't mind my order moving in and setting up shop here though, for we just love the view, oh but even if you do mind it doesn't really matter because you will forgive me anyway right ?" </strong><br><br>This time she laughed from a place from deep in her chest, not loudly, but it was so genuine it echoed eerily into streets of Paris much further than she would ever know.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Remnants of Heaven.. (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LimitlessNikkie</strong> on <strong>28-04-2011, 23:02:19</strong>
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				<div align="center"><strong>Iofiel -The skies above Phoenix Arizona</strong></div><br>Blackened wings tasted the sky as Iofiel glided high in the air. The world below looked tiny and so fragile from high in the air the high way like a black ribbon stretching from one horizon to the next with a toy like city crumbling in the center. To most the sight of the dead city would have left a pang of unease, it wasn't right to see something once so grand falling apart but even in it's destruction Iofiel saw the unique beauty of it. <br><br>She was musing far too prone to be lost in her own thought drawn to the same beauty she was charged with showing the world, when a flickering caught her gaze. She drew in her wings diving towards the sight until she could see the flames, feel the heat of the fire pushing her back into the air. her fingers combed the air above the flames as if she itched to touch them, feel their texture against her fingertips.<br><br>A movement, a shadow caught her gaze before her fingertips could touch the hungry flames.&nbsp; Iofiel lifted herself into the air with a beat of her wings scattering the ever present ash around her, it swirled in the air like dark glitter highlighting her dark beauty. Her gaze found the only other living being as it, he walked away. <br><br>Her gaze took in his long body, the pure white wings sweeping from his back, dark hair that lifted slightly in the air as he walked. It took her several moments but his name came back to her like an echo from the past. She laughed lightly the sound catching in the hot air and reverberating against the broken buildings. <br><br>Lowering herself in the air she perched on the edge of a crumbling building just ahead and above the Arch Angel of Death. The dry breeze caught her flame red hair pushing it back from her face and her wings half open balancing her littering ash around her, making her look not quite of this world. She wore a flowing black dress that fluttered in the air a mockery of the angelic garb she once wore. <br><br>"And I thought they'd keep you, Azrael, locked up good and tight." She said with a cruel laugh weather she spoke to herself or to him it was impossible to tell. Her fingers combed the air tracing his pure white wings a look of longing flickering in her silver eyes before buried once more and her smirk returning. "A gift for you brother, to celebrate your freedom." she said her grin cunning and cruel, "A single glimpse of someone you care about greatly." She said twisting her fingers in the air till it looked like she was painting the very world around them.<br><br>The air shimmered as a vail seemed to fall around them and a dark room came into being so real that if your reached out to touch it every one of your senses would tell you it was real. Screams could be heard, terrible sounds of pain that ripped at the very soul making one want to put their hands over their ears and cringe away. The door before them opened just a sliver and in the low light tangled shining blond hair slowly soaking up the dark red blood along the dirty floor could be seen, a face twisted in such pain the image seemed to burn into one mind, haunting their thoughts, glistening tears clinging to Arial's lashes.<br><br>The world around them dissolved and Iofiel's cruel laugh could be heard as they returned to the crumbling city. She spread her chard winged and with a mighty beat lifted into the air smiling down at Azrael. "A single glimpse Azrael how I look forward to showing you more." she said her smile as sharp as a knifes blade as she beat her wings and lifted further into the air. There was no way to tell if what she'd show was more of her illusions or truth only she knew for sure if the 'beauty' she'd shown was something of her creation or a reality of the world.<br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Remnants of Heaven.. (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Joslyn</strong> on <strong>29-04-2011, 00:22:35</strong>
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				<strong>The Compound (50 ft. below the Arizona desert)</strong><br><br><em>Clack-clack-clack.</em> Dr. Julie Kayama’s heels made the echoing sound as she walked down the long corridor. The Compound had been her home for the last four years—though from another point of view, it was her prison. She left this place only rarely and briefly, and always under heavy guard. Ostensibly this was due to how “valuable” she was, but it was just as true that no one really trusted her.<br><br>The sprawling underground labyrinth had been built before the War by an insane and germ-phobic billionaire. Almost every room was done in white tiles, giving the place a sterile, unfriendly feel. Since this facility had been seized by the military, modern technology had been added—a fusion reactor, hydroponics garden, advanced waste reclamation, and so forth. The Compound was nearly self-sufficient, though there was a sporadic influx of equipment related to its primary purpose—weapons research and testing.<br><br>Julie walked past the door to Firing Range #2—she heard it had once been a bowling alley—and on to the open doorway of the cafeteria. She did not know what the cavernous room had been used for, but now it contained a large number of tables, chairs, and an adjoining kitchen.<br><br>The young scientist greeted colleagues she passed in the cafeteria with forced cheerfulness—they always returned the greetings with apparent politeness, but they never stopped to talk with her if they did not have to. Not that she blamed them—being friendly with a pariah was a good way to become one. Sometimes personnel new to the facility might be friendly, even go so far as to flirt with her—white lab coat and boring civilian clothes aside, she knew a lot of people considered her pretty. But they always distanced themselves as soon as she admitted what she was.<br><br>After obtaining a tray of food, Julie sat at an empty table, as she always tried to. It was easy to become dispirited about being one of the Cursed, but overall her life was going about as well as she could have hoped. Most of her brethren were horrible, violent people—criminals, soldiers for the enemy, callous mercenaries. Julie was thankful to be on the side of humanity, and making a vital contribution to its continued survival. The offensive and defensive technologies developed by her team were saving lives on the battlefield.<br><br><em>All in all, not bad for a half-demon freak.</em> she reflected wryly. Anyway, the pity party was over with for today. Her thoughts turned to the day-to-day grind of meetings, theories, measurements, paperwork...<br><br>(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/7/78/SayuriSakamoto.JPG)<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Remnants of Heaven.. (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Starlequin</strong> on <strong>29-04-2011, 09:49:08</strong>
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				The notes of Gabriel's horn drifted langourously on the winds and seemed to color the very air as they traveled. Lucifer floated on his back, his magnificent silver wings stretched out to their full reach beneath him, and a smile rested on his face, his eyes shut lazily, hands cradled behind his head. All around him, the Heavenly Hosts cavorted and sang to each other, and he rolled himself over to watch the merriment. The sounds of his siblings laughing and playing together swelled his heart with joy, and his beatific gaze swept over the whole of Heaven.<br><br>"Your Majesty?"<br><br>In an instant, Lucifer's serene expression shifted to one of distinct annoyance, and Heaven and its glory shimmered out of sight, replaced by the howling winds and crushing darkness of the Southern Pole. The Archangel alighted onto the ice, the pads of his feet summoning jets of steam from its surface on contact, and he turned to face the intruder.<br><br>"Azazel, I've told you to stop calling me that," Lucifer said with the exasperated tone of someone who had indeed uttered the same thing countless times, and expected to utter it countless more. His irritation grew as Azazel waved him off with a grin and slapped a hand over his heart. "But my Liege, what would your devoted subjects think to hear one of their own addressing The Prince of The Fallen as an equal?"<br><br>He almost managed not to laugh, but his control shattered at the last moment and Azazel broke down in a giggling fit. Lucifer could only sigh, and with a roll of his eyes rested his chin atop steepled fingers. He waited patiently as his brother's amusement ran its course, saying nothing; he'd learned long ago that the best way to respond to Azazel's jibes was with silence. Not that that stopped Azazel from trying to get a rise from his elder brother; Lucifer suspected no force short of The Maker Himself could manage <em>that</em>. Still, it was always good to see one of his siblings in high spirits, no matter the source, and Lucifer couldn't help smiling just a little.<br><br>"Azazel, is there some reason you've interrupted my leisure with your juvenile nonsense?" He asked once the angel's laughter trickled into silence. Lucifer suspected he already knew the purpose behind his brother's visit, but confirmation was never unwise. Azazel nodded, momentarily adopting a more serious tone, and withdrew a small pouch of stones from his belt. With some reverence he offered the stones to the Morningstar and spoke softly.<br><br>"Your emissaries have all been sent, brother, but it is doubtful they will return quickly. Our sources tell us they have all fled to their respective dimensions, not long after you arrived on the mortal plane in fact. Do you really think they would be of use, anyway? So many of them faded to mere shadows of themselves, I don't see any point in dragging them into this. And even if their power could be restored, think of the risks --"<br><br>Lucifer raised his hand and cut Azazel's questioning short as he gripped the pouch tightly in one fist. The stones were cold within the bag, but when (if) their owners succeeded in their tasks, they would grow warm. "I realize the benefits of their involvement are less than significant, and I'm aware of the risks they could present, my friend. Trust me. If it helps, think of this as merely something to do to pass the time," the Light-Bringer said, staring at the small velvet bag. He looked back to Azazel and nodded curtly, indicating the angel's dismissal. As he was turning he realized Azazel had not departed, and he turned back to meet his brother's eyes. "Is there something more?"<br><br>The angel sighed and cast his eyes downward in the darkness, offering a small nod. "It's...Azreal, brother. He's slaughtered another contingent of demons, perhaps 700 at last count. The usual whispers of discontent within the ranks have been growing stronger. Shall I set one of the chimeras against him? Perhaps Belial?"<br><br>Lucifer's shoulders slumped as he considered the news. Azreal, always Azreal. He had proven an even greater thorn in the Morningstar's side than originally anticipated. Some small part of him felt great pride at his brother's skill and dedication; always it was a wonder and an honor to watch any of his brethren perform their assigned duties, such talent and grace did they possess. But more than pride, Lucifer was rife with disappointment. The Archangel of Death held such an esteem for humanity, and protected them with an almost frightening efficiency. Indeed, Hell's legions would have swollen immeasurably faster had it not been for Azreal's tireless efforts to thwart Lucifer's agents at every turn. To see such power and devotion squandered on such worthless creatures pained the Fallen Archangel deeply.<br><br>"Why, Azazel? Why must our brothers continue to oppose me? Why can they not see that my actions are for the greater good? For <em>their</em> sakes?" Lucifer asked, neither expecting an answer from Azazel nor receiving one. With an impulse of will, a window opened in the sky at the bottom of the world, and noonday sunshine poured through from Phoenix, Arizona, on the North American continent. The Fallen One peered through the viewing portal until he spotted his target, Azazel looking over his shoulder. Their brother hadn't changed much since Lucifer last saw him; still ragged at the edges, blood-soaked wings tucked neatly back, his divinely forged weapon glistening in the sunshine like Heaven's own fire.<br><br>"I should have killed him when I had the chance," Azazel mumbled to himself as they watched a lesser demon spring from its hiding place in a vain attempt against the warrior angel. As Azreal's blade dispatched the pitiable creature, Lucifer spun in a rage to face Azazel and gripped him by the throat, lifting him from the ground and holding him almost nose to nose.<br><br>"You will not dare speak such a thing in my presence again, Brother. No matter what may pass between us, Azreal is still our brother, and I will <strong>not</strong> allow him to come to harm. Am I understood?" The Morningstar said, his voice suddenly older, hotter, and harder than the stars themselves. For a moment Azazel felt true terror, the sort of sensation a housecat would no doubt feel under the angry gaze of a lion, and the fallen angel nodded eagerly. "Of course, Lucifer, I understand! I, I'm sorry, brother, it will never happen again!"<br><br>Immediately, Lucifer relinquished his grasp on Azazel's throat and set him safely back to the ground, as the viewing window shrank back out of existence behind them. He clasped his hand on Azazel's shoulder and smiled. "Excellent. Now, send Belial after Azreal, and follow up with this personally. Once he's been sufficiently weakened, I want you to re-capture him and take him back to his cell where he'll be safe. And Azazel? This time, try not to be so hard on him, hmm?"<br><br>With that, Lucifer rose back into the air and returned to his illusions of happier days, as below the black-winged Azazel vanished to begin carrying out his brother's commands.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Remnants of Heaven.. (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Phobetor</strong> on <strong>29-04-2011, 13:27:44</strong>
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				<span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><em>"Azreal!" Ariel laughed as she looked at him, eyes sparkling in the sunlight. She looked around the clear skies as she chased after her dearest friend. It didn't matter how fast she ran; Azreal was always a few steps away from her. But wasn't that the way it always was? He was faster than her. And he was always on a mission!<br><br>Except that...as they continued to fly through the air, the skies were turning dark and there was an eerie feel to the air. She didn't like it. "Azreal, we have to go back," Ariel murmured, fear laced in her voice. But it didn't matter how fast she flew, she just couldn't catch him. And he was too far for him to hear! "Azreal? AZREAL!" A scream lodged in her throat when she saw her beloved friend disappear before her.<br><br>She was alone. Very alone.</em><br><br>Her eyes opened slowly, hoping (for a weak second) that when she opened them, she would see sunlight. She would be able to see the beauty that was once the Heavens and she could go outside, and see her Brothers and her Creator. And her dream had just been that...a dream. Instead...she saw darkness. The sounds of agony and pain, the heat and dry air...fire. She hated fire. <em>No,</em> she quickly corrected herself, <em>not hated. Disliked. She disliked fire.</em> Ariel slowly shifted in her cell into a sitting position, wrapping her arms around her soiled white skirt and then -- as added protection -- wrapping her wings around her petite frame.<br><br>How long had she been here? She couldn't remember; but there was a certain sense of panic that came over her today. Whether she had been here two days, two years or two millennium...this was the last day the cell would hold her. Hazel eyes regarded her surroundings silently. How long had it been since she last talked? The only ones she ever spoke to were her Brothers and now, knowing that Azreal was gone...she didn't even speak to them.<br><br>Azreal; her dear friend. How she missed him. Tears still came to her eyes as she thought about him. The injustice of his death! It had been that day, that dreadful day...that Ariel had learned what sorrow was. When the Archangels had been captured, she had been silent and indifferent. When news of what was happening in the world reached the Underworld, she had been stone-faced. But news of her friend's death? <em>That</em> had broken her; she had wept. She felt her heart being ripped out of her chest and she had cried with such desperation that even now, she was still a bit confused by it. Why was she in so much pain over the loss of a Brother? Yes, Azreal was a dear friend, one of her closest confidants...but he was still just a Brother. She hadn't understood it then...and she still didn't.<br><br>What she <em>did</em> understand was that...she was getting out. Today. Tonight. Whatever time it was; Ariel was done being held captive and she was going to leave Hell and go fight for humanity. Because her Maker would want that; and she still lived to serve Him.<br><br>Lucifer was so selfish! Her eyes blazed with anger and her fists clenched into fists as she thought about her misguided Brother. How could he bring such destruction to a world that He wanted them to protect! And Azazel...so eager to follow Lucifer's command. She scoffed as her jaw clenched, trying her best to still the anger that lurked within her heart. She didn't want to let the anger consume her; then she would be no better than them. And she was not going to let them bring her down.<br><br>She closed her eyes and forced herself to relax, to stop thinking of everything going on around her and to find a way out. Running fingers through her hair, Ariel squeezed her eyes and suddenly her head snapped up and for the first time since her imprisonment, she felt a burst of hope. She slowly came to her feet and walked towards the bars of the cell. She knew she had a matter of minutes to do this; the demons and vampires moved throughout the walkway checking in on them periodically.<br><br>Reaching out a hand through the cell bars, Ariel looked at the demon who held the key to her cell and using the dry wind in Hell, she propelled him towards her, eyes narrowed, focusing entirely on what she was doing. As soon as his body slammed against the cell, she grabbed the dagger from his hip and jerked it out to plunge it deep inside his neck. Hazel eyes were emotionless; working towards the freedom that she wanted.<br><br>She barely registered his surprised scream before she was jerking the dagger out of his flesh and reaching for the key that he kept.&nbsp; Ariel shoved the key in the lock and turned it, pushing the dead demon to the floor as she pushed open the door. She stepped out, looking left and right in a moment of panic before she took off towards the right.<br><br>Killing the demon and escaping the cell had been the easy part; getting out of Hell undetected? Not so much.<br><br>But she wasn't going to be taken captive; not again. So with a high jump, Ariel spread her wings and took off, her eyes scanning for a way to escape her prison.</span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Remnants of Heaven.. (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Cameron182</strong> on <strong>30-04-2011, 02:19:42</strong>
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				He felt her presence before she spoke, a look of disgust finding its way onto his features as he stopped his forward motion, his right hand reaching upwards to pull a few strands of his wild hair away from his face. Glancing upwards he took in the form of the Fallen Angel. He ignored her initial comment, his mind instead focusing on the apparent braveness or stupidity of the creature. She couldn't truly believe she would survive an encounter with him, he had bested Fallen Angels by the handful many times before. <br><br>He watched as her fingers moved about, feeling the energies changing in the air around him. It wasn't a personal attack, he had enough mental defenses to warn him if she was attempting to subdue him psychically. Curiosity hit his mind for a moment as he wondered exactly what she was doing, if she wasn't attacking him then what was she drawing power for? <br><br>The answer quickly became clear as the world around him shifted into a frighteningly realistic illusion. He knew this was her ability, Iofel had once been a glorious angel and with her ability she had done many great things, but now... she was nothing more than a hollow and twisted shell of her former self. Now she was nothing more than the scum he slaughtered on a daily basis.<br><br>His thoughts came to a screeching halt when Ariel's image centered in his vision. He felt his throat close and his mouth run dry as he watched her scream in agony, her face twisted with the torture he knew she was surely enduring. There was a sudden and very powerful urge to leap for her, to pull her from her torment, but he knew it was impossible, this was nothing more than an illusion created by Iofel to discourage him. There had been many times since his escape that he had considered bursting into Hell to rescue his Brothers and Sister, but he knew it would be suicide and would only end in his re-capture. Her screams once again tore his mind away from his thoughts. He could hear Iofel's cackling laughter dimly in the background. He wasn't sure if it was actually what was happening, or simply a creation of her sadistic mind, but he did know that it seemed as if she was asking to die.<br><br>As the illusion faded and reality came back into play once more, his eyes slowly lifted back upwards towards her form, noticing that she had already lifted herself up into the air. He imagined she believed that she could get away from him before he could catch her, she obviously knew very little about him. It was a dangerous thing for her to even bring herself within his proximity without some type of backup, it was even more of a mistake to toy with him like she was. <br><br>His right hand lifted upwards, coming to rest around the hilt of his sword, hanging to the right of his neck. "If you think you are leaving here alive.... you are mistaken Iofel..." He spoke, his voice hollow of emotion, but filled with the certainty of his words. With one clean motion he pulled his weapon free, his wings expanding outwards to their full length. An angel's wings at full stretch is an impressive sight to say the least, but they were dwarfed in comparison with those of an Archangel. Even with the plethora of tears and scorches, blood stains and frayed edges, his off-white wings were a beauty to behold, a testament to the strength given to them by their Father. <br><br>Just as he was about to make a movement to take the Fallen Angel's life, his eyes suddenly snapped to the left as his head twisted, looking off into the horizon. Something was coming.... something much more dangerous than the child before him. For a moment he felt worry, he didn't know what it was, but it was powerful, which normally wouldn't give him any reason for pause, he was powerful as well, but facing whatever this creature was alongside having to battle Iofel definitely changed the scale of things. However he quickly pushed the thoughts from his mind, this was the purpose of his creation, the battlefield was his home, he would not fall this day...
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Remnants of Heaven.. (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>LimitlessNikkie</strong> on <strong>30-04-2011, 10:33:15</strong>
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				Iofiel just smile as he spoke lifting higher in the air as the intimidating Angel pulled his sword. The display he put on caught her breath and she felt the draw to him the purity of his image. She could have spent hours studying the elegant lines of his battle scared wings, the reflection of the sunlight off his sword, the flinty glint of anger in his eyes. It would have been memorizing if not for her pesky survival instinct that was telling her t get the hell out of there. Impulsiveness had it's uses but sticking around in this instance did not. She didn't fight a war in heaven and manage to survive in hell to be vanquished by her brother today.<br><br>But even with her mind telling her to flee she couldn't help a last dig at the Angel who'd once been her brother, who in her heart still was, "You would murder me brother?" She asked with genuine interest in her voice "And they call me evil." She said with a light shrug her gaze shifting to the left to talk in the other threat coming towards them. "I'd never murder you, Azrael." She whispered only just loud enough to be hear before beating her wings hard lifting high into the air till only the black of her wings stood out against the light blue of the sky.<br><br>She tilted her wings and flew towards the mystery distraction to the left. She figured whatever had Azrael on edge was probably on her side and if not...well she wasn't good at illusions for nothing it was amazing just how much a few second of distraction could by her. She wasted no time in beating her wings and fly with haste away from Azrael towards one of the few hopes of escape she had.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Remnants of Heaven.. (IC)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Shihong</strong> on <strong>09-05-2011, 03:12:31</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>-- Azazel, Prince of Lies (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=105405.msg4574445#msg4574445) - Absolutely joyous! --</strong><br><hr><br>Lucifer was such a beautiful, magnificent specimen.&nbsp; Even in the depths of his hatred, his bitterness, his unbearable wrath, his words flowed as the tinkling notes of wind chimes and his features could bring any mortal man to weep as his eyes melted from his skull.&nbsp; What joy, what <em>rapture</em> to be at such a being's beck and call, to follow his every word like an obedient servant, to scrape and bow before his light, to make mistakes and gladly accept his violent admonitions, and to know that <em>every last second of it is nothing more than an act.</em><br><br>Azazel smiled with all the cruel purity of a child, his ivory features torn straight from the sculptures of Michelangelo--or perhaps it was the other way around.&nbsp; And then they were gone, replaced by a devilishly handsome mortal face, but a mortal face all the same.&nbsp; He wore nothing, his nude form laying casually on the edge of a ruined skyscraper overlooking the delightfully fascinating drama far below.&nbsp; How marvelous his brother Azrael looked, his very being <em>throbbing</em> with all the righteous fury that their Father had instilled within his powerful breast.&nbsp; It tickled him that Lucifer could have actually <em>believed</em> that he would ever try to kill such a beautiful, primordial emotion.&nbsp; How easily such lies came to him now, and how easily they were swallowed.<br><br><hr><br><strong>"Vermin.&nbsp; Wretched spawn of the Absent Father, spewer of filth, weaver of falsehood, pathetic cretin.&nbsp; I would devour you, flesh and bone, sup upon your marrow, bathe in the ecstasy that is your sweet blood, and rape the withered remains until satisfied, if not for this damnable block upon my nature."</strong><br><br>The voice was as coal smoldering in the forge, molten rock seething down the mountainside, the rumbling of the very earth, cruelty and barbarism made manifest.&nbsp; The words coiled like snakes in the air, pouring from between wicked rows of blackened tombstone teeth and tainting everything they touched.&nbsp; They were the words of a sinner, a nonbeliever, and truly nothing good had ever or would ever come from them.<br><br>And Azazel laughed, for Belial was the most amusing of his Sons, and set him loose upon the world so that he might find lost Azrael and bring him home once more.<br><br><hr><br><div align="center"><em>"But for corruption thou hast made Belial, an angel of hostility. All his dominions are in darkness, and his purpose is to bring about wickedness and guilt."</em></div><br>As Iofiel drew closer, she would see at last the titanic being crawling through the ruins of civilization, a thing of quivering gray flesh and taut muscle (http://img560.imageshack.us/img560/324/angelofpunishment.jpg), of tanned human flesh woven into ragged garments, of blackened iron welded and bolted into tortured sinew, of sharpened limbs that bled eternally and devoured all they touched.&nbsp; Scabrous wings, scarcely more than bones shrouded in webbing and pustules, twitched in the open air like feelers, for the abomination that was Belial had long since had his hateful eyes plucked out, his skull bound back by wicked machinery, and his mind honed towards one purpose, and one purpose alone.<br><br><strong>"Repulsive harpy,"</strong> he spat as Iofiel passed by, his blades eating through the pavement as he dragged himself towards his real prize.&nbsp; <strong>"Azrael.&nbsp; We meet at last.&nbsp; Long have I awaited this day, when my spineless masters would allow me to carve my name into your heart.&nbsp; As a fellow warrior, I will show no mercy, and only when your form lies broken and useless will I allow you to be caged once more."</strong>
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