PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Haverdashum
Prosthetic Arm Blade
Archangel
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Post by Michael on Aug 22, 2015 21:23:48 GMT
Michael No light, no light in your bright blue eyes I never knew daylight could be so violentHe remembered the feeling of the air leaving his lungs in the Motel room as he gripped the broken oar tighter in his hands, three demons and no other options other than beating them at their own game. His wings opened furiously trying to find any source of the wind that had remained. He needed to get out of here, this was an ambush no some normal smash and grab, not for him. No when these demons attacked they were coordinated, uniform and precise. This had been planned.
He was trying not to breathe, the air in the tiny motel had fallen still, even as Michael flapped his wings there was nothing. He swung hard with the broken oar, cracking it against the shoulder of another trying in vain to remove himself from the room. In the end when the air had been choked from his lungs, his lips pale as he fell to his knees. The final frantic moments as they moved like a murder of crows, each with their weapons drawn as his eyes bulging for one final attempt to flee from the situation. And in one sweep the bat connected with the side of his skull, the vicious 'crack' dropping him to the floor without another sound.
♗ The thumping, the scuffle of feet obviously meant he was still alive. An uncomfortable dryness in his mouth was only followed by the shifting of his weight as Michael tried to adjust himself. It was almost as if he had forgotten where he was, as if perhaps it had all simply been a bad dream. The lack of weight at his left arm was what disturbed him more than anything. When he went to reach up to inspect the wounds at the side of his face there was no hand there to press against his skin. He winced, a swollen right eye, a split lip. It was quite the nasty sight. The bruise ran along the right side of his face lining a sore jaw ane he coughed. Finally there was some movement in the dimly lit room, a single chair with its occupant. The guard seated backwards before sliding off and walking to the door. Three knocks later he sat back down while Michael was still reeling.
How long had things been like this?
He pressed against the restraints, his feet shambling at best in an attempt to find his footing knocking the tip of his bare foot into the metal anchor. They really had stepped up their game this time. This world wasn't suited for chains much any more, this wasn't some 16th century dungeon. Strapped by the thick canvas tight enough to keep his right arm bound fast. The heavy locks at the swell of his back. Though if physical restraints were the only source of his discomfort he would have been in a better state of mind.
Michael was coming to his senses now, pulling against the restraints in some instinctual desperation. Being too close to comfort to that of the enemy often brings out the worst in even the most hardened of warriors after all. It was enough to make the guard smirk, but even then no words were shared between them. He finally went to move forward, but the sudden burst of heat the sounds of the chains scraping along the floor.
Magic, just the feeling of the heat sparking in the air was enough to make him retreat. Of course there was magic this wasn't going to be dinner and a show. How stupid did he have to be to even think that they wouldn't have provided all those wonderful bells and whistles? It was almost a shame to say he was impressed.
And then he could finally hear it...was that music? The dull sounds of a song unrecognizable through these walls. The dread welling up in the pit of his stomach, the idea that he may be standing trapped in the belly of the whale. He couldn't think like that. That was daft why would they bring him there? The overwhelming dread was clean as day across his battered face. For any of them this would have been a sight to see, the little lion shackled like a rat in a cage.
“Where...where am I?” He tried again to open up his right eye, the bloodshot blue stare. Those were the eyes they would have been used to seeing, such calloused glances. He asked again this time with less of the patience frustrated by the lack of an immediate answer.
“Where am I...tell me now!” With each repetition of the question he was sinking faster and faster into the realization. He knew where he was.
♗ present day
Things had changed in the time he had been here. Michael had tried to keep track, but really with no exterior windows, and not to mention really no substantial conversation he had been forced to count his time spent in this room by the number of visits. Demons, in and out through the door like he was some side show attraction. But even now he was left without visitors. It had been quite some time since he had gone to take his trip to the north west, the injuries were simply a thing of a past other than the split lip he had relieved a few hours ago. Sometimes the guard really weren't the most hospitable people in this place.
But then again this was the infamous Den of Sin, and Michael had to reason that he was the only angel who had seen behind its walls. In fact he was probably going to be the only angel to ever see these rooms. He rolled his shoulders finally taking up the most comfortable position. Sitting on the wood floor as best he could with his back pressed against the wall. He stared at the line they had so kindly drawn on the floor for him with chalk. After the third visit they had thought it best everyone remember where the magical barrier was, and why it was best to keep clear of it. Sathanus was a rather nasty fellow, and quite frankly he and the Archangel had some history behind them.
That was the reason Michael still seemed to have a black eye.
That was when the familiar routine took place.
Three knocks on the other side of the door, and the guard stood from the chair heading to the door opening the small slat. It seemed that today Michael would once again be having visitors. Slowly he moved using his weight against the wall to smooth the transition so that he was on his feet again. But who would it be this time?
You want a revelation,you want to get it right But, it's a conversation, I just can't have tonight
----------------------- Word count: 1121 Mood: hahahaha I have no idea Lyrics: No light, No light - Florence and the Machine
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
Shadowkinesis & Mind Manipulation
Demon Lord
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Post by Asmodeus on Aug 23, 2015 14:59:36 GMT
It had worked a lot better than he'd originally planned. When he'd agreed to the Accords, he'd situated himself in the northern mountains of China, gritting his teeth against the bitter cold and turning away the monks that continued to show up on his doorstep. He'd convinced himself he needed peace from this world, to reconnect with who he really was but all he'd managed to do was get closer to the Demi God. In the darkness of his hovel, laying on his back on his makeshift bed, the immortal had risen to his consciousness and he found himself unable to escape it's dark clutches. Once, long ago, Asmodeus had been a beautiful angel, wings as white as opals and loving of their mother the Goddess Mayaria. But, Asmodeus hadn't been perfect. Even as an Angel, his lust for beautiful angels had been far greater than others. He'd even managed to fall in love with one such beautiful angel, that is, until the Demi God found him. It disguised itself as a beautiful naked woman, working on Asmodeus's weaknesses and convinced the Angel to let it inside of him. The Demi God only worked on his pre-existing skills and hence, the Sin Lust was created. Not that any of that mattered to Asmodeus anymore. Harboring the Demi God for so long, he'd bonded with the immortal, its thoughts becoming his own thoughts and the Angel he used to be, might as well have died in the Divine Realm. He was a demon now and he took great pleasure in it.
The door opened and a tall figure appeared, face covered by a mask. But there was no denying the presence of the Demi God that insured that the demon that entered the room was a Demon Lord. He spoke softly to the guard a moment before the force field of air used to keep him contained came down and the Demon Lord moved forward, turning his face mask so it sat sideways on his head. Asmodeus smirked at Michael and stopped a few feet away from him, blue eyes burning with excitement. "Angels are such fickle creatures. Take away their Alpha and they scramble around like ants, unsure of what to do with themselves. Do they look for you, find a new leader or contain the Demon Lords once more?" He chuckled. "I figured I should come personally and thank you for you cooperation. Without you, I'd still be freezing my balls of in the Chinese Mountains." He smirked, reaching out and patting his cheek none too gently.
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Haverdashum
Prosthetic Arm Blade
Archangel
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Post by Michael on Aug 23, 2015 22:41:57 GMT
Michael had closed his eyes, another Demon Lord here to see for himself the prize they had captured. His back seemed to stiffen toes curling against the floor as the magical barrier was removed. Had to inspect the damaged goods now did he? Of course he did. He didn't shy away when the Demon came closer. Things had been rather sloppy on Michael's part that night, he was a bit upset he hadn't done more damage while he was still conscious. Taking down another of his attackers would have at least removed the bitter feeling edging through to the forefront of his mind. But he had never been someone who took the bait of a taunt. No matter how much the wounds still sting.
Were they looking for him now, his kin? Not that it really seemed to matter. Looking for him would be like looking for a strand of hay in a stack of needles. It would have been suicide for any of them the moment they opened the door. And another casualty on his name. It was easily believed that they were having troubles. Even now, with their council it seemed that old habits had died hard. A slight sigh escaped him before he opened his eyes again. Despite his lack of expression the fire in his eyes had turned to ice. He couldn't speak out of anger, that would be giving away another victory.
Asmodeus.
“Oh well I am so glad you're not cold anymore. You'd of caught your death in those mountains.” His eyes narrowed, the visible sign of his jaw grinding. This was both good, and bad news. Despite the fact Michael couldn't stand the sound of his voice compared to the others he was at least supposedly, well more tolerable. And that was an overstatement.
“I'm sure once the initial shock wears off they'll sort themselves. It'll all be a good laugh later.” Despite wanting to believe his own words this would have been a heavy blow for their ranks. They shouldn't have worried so much about him this wasn't his first rodeo after all.
“You know that's pretty low considering you had to send someone else, I'm quite sure your balls are still in those mountains.” There was an edge of absolute disgust in his voice before he pursed his lips. He had taken the bait to lash out in anger after all. Maybe it might have been better to keep his mouth shut. But in all honesty if they wanted to do more than just laugh, and rough him up a bit then they would have. By all means they could have easily driven him mad by now in this hovel.
“I'm sorry, that was rude.” But the sarcasm was practically tangible. It hung in the air before he gritted his teeth, jaw visibly clenching. The cheek pats were overdoing it, this was a disgrace. Being taunted like a disgruntled five year old. He shook his head moving it as best as he could away from Asmodeus' hand.
“Are you quite finished?” he snapped. Clearly if they had been expecting to break his spirit it was going to take more than a few beatings. The Archangel had always been stubborn, it seemed to come hand in hand with his youthful appearance. But even now his humor was wearing thin and he had let his shoulders fall back into a slump. Really there wasn't any point in being intimidating when you were chained to a wall.
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
Shadowkinesis & Mind Manipulation
Demon Lord
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Post by Asmodeus on Aug 24, 2015 4:28:27 GMT
Even through Michael's tirade, Asmodeus kept his infuriating smirk, seeming amused by the Angel if nothing else. After all, it wasn't like he could do much of anything to him. An Angel was only as good as their blade and if there was no blade... there was no threat. Mayaria had only given the Angels the blades because she knew they would, eventually, all be destroyed and, like any good deity, she wanted to give then a fighting chance. However, he'd only taken Michael's weapon as a precaution. He could easily kill him then and there but he found it far more fun to torture his new "pet" than just do away with him. After all, he hadn't really planned on killing Michael. Honestly, all the further he'd gotten was just taking him captive so the rest of the Demon Lords could come out of hiding.
Asmodeus pulled his hand back with a chuckle. "You remind me of a maniacal kitten." he mused. "All piss and vinegar but your claws are sheathed." There was another knock on the door and the first sign or irritation crossed Asmodeus's face. The guard behind them hurried over to the door and left, closing the two of them inside, alone. Asmodeus turned his attention back to Michael. "I apologize for not coming to greet you sooner, or even come to collect you myself but you see, I'm a very busy man. My wife runs a wonderful business all over the world and I run this piece of paradise for all of Demon Kind. Did you know Angels can't actually get in here? Fancy little trick, like your Silver Cross." He began to pace the room in front of him, mask still hanging catty-corner off his face. "Angels can only pass through these doors with another Demon present. Probably is, I don't allow Angels here. It's strictly forbidden. You are the first Angel here, Mikey, you should feel special because, if an Angel was brought here, they would be killed on the spot."
He'd clearly ignored everyone Michael had said. He walked over to a small fridge that hummed quietly against the far wall and pulled out a bottle of water, taking a few drinks before turning and walking back over to him, offering the bottle to him. After a moment's pause he smirked. "Oh, sorry. I guess you can't use your hands, er, hand." With a shrug, he downed the rest of the bottle and tossed the empty bottle at Michael's feet. Finally, his face got serious and he grabbed the rolling chair the guard had been sitting on and seated himself, backwards, in the chair to face him. "So, Mikey." The nickname for him rolling off his tongue as though they were old friends. "Let's negotiate..."
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Haverdashum
Prosthetic Arm Blade
Archangel
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Post by Michael on Aug 24, 2015 5:33:27 GMT
Michael had eventually settled, falling into silence. Reminded him of a kitten, well that wasn't the worst thing to remind someone of really.
“If you're really that busy you could have just sent an invitation, no need for the warming party while I was...on vacation.” He wasn't really sure what to call those little trips, times when the knots in his stomach got too strong, that feeling of the space between his thoughts and actions, just a general uneasiness about the whole thing. His eyes went back to the door, the guard finally leaving them alone. The last few times Michael had bothered to say goodbye, however things were beginning to tire out and cordial behavior seemed to be the first thing to go with him these days.
“We're all busy people I understand.” There he was again, that apathetic stare. Asmodeus was right about one thing, if they muzzled him Michael really wouldn't have anything left. And then he really would be in a sorry state of affairs. He stood there listening to the explanation. Others had told him where he was, but really no one had bothered to actually explain. It wasn't that hard to figure out where he was, a den of sin was an understatement.
“Don't call me Mikey.” He interrupted before continuing. “Wow I feel safer already.” In response to their security. It seemed to be confirming the suspicion that perhaps the only way he was going to be leaving here was in a body bag. Not to mention that if anyone came here looking for him, well the breakout just seemed to be getting more and more difficult as time went on. And Michael certainly wasn't about to add to a body count, let alone let Asmodeus get the idea he might start a collection of angels in the attic.
“Oh I do feel special I think my favorite part was when I almost got lit on fire that was a really nice touch.” Which was true the first conversation he'd had here had almost ended with him rushing the barrier. Unaware of its actual location that had come as quite the shock to him.
He watched as Asmodeus went over to the small fridge staring at the bottle of water. Hospitality would have been nice but that really wasn't the sort of game any of these Demons played. Though he tried to buy into it, maybe there was some merit to the idea. Let him poke fun at the lack of an arm for a drink of water. It was a sacrifice Michael was willing to make.
“Yeah real funny isn't it, Captain Stumpy at your service. But no really if...you could just...” And there it went, right down the drain. He let out a sigh as the empty bottle was rolled over to his feet. “Gee...thanks so much.” He seemed rather flat now, just staring at the bottle for a few moments too long before finally going back to focus on Asmodeus.
“It's. Michael, two syllables. It's not like I'm going to start calling you Ozzy, we're not friends.” He seemed more bitter about the losing the hope of bottled water than the butchering of his actual name, but he wasn't about to let on how desperate he was for a drink.
“Well if you're going to sit down...” He moved sliding down the wall back to the floor crossing his legs as best he could. The sound of the chains dragging across the floor was still something to get used to, another reminder of how futile all of this honestly seemed. “So what will it be? I'm all ears.”
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
Shadowkinesis & Mind Manipulation
Demon Lord
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Post by Asmodeus on Aug 24, 2015 18:42:42 GMT
An amused smile reappeared on his face. Out of all the Archangels, Asmodeus respected Michael the most, which, was probably why the Angel was still alive. For one, he was the leader of the Archangels and the founder of the Silver Cross and yet, because of his virtue, took no recognition of either title. He didn't flock with the other Angels and join their flock of gibbering seagulls as they sprouted peace. Granted, he knew Michael still upheld these ideals but, he'd been the only one to not corner him in an alley somewhere. Instead, he'd faced him on a battlefield and that, was what Asmodeus respected.
"You can't deny that this war we have amoung each other is pointless." He said conversationally. "Even if the Demon Lords hide ourselves away for the rest of eternity, too much virtue can also destroy the humans. They are feeble creatures that are evenly balanced by both sin and virtue. It's how this world operates. Your friends don't see these things like I do. They simply want to become Victor's in a war of their own devising. I want you to convince them of this fragile balance and leave us alone." He felt the Demi God within him hammering angrily against his conscious, pissed he'd even suggest a thing but Asmodeus's clenched his teeth, holding onto his ideals. He hadn't spoken of these plans to It and wasn't surprised to find It's hostility. But, in order for the complete destruction of both Angels and humans, these things needed to happen.
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Haverdashum
Prosthetic Arm Blade
Archangel
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Post by Michael on Aug 24, 2015 23:37:56 GMT
He sat on the floor leaning back against the wall in a sort of contemplative silence. It was just one of those things that happened to be slightly disturbing to some people. It was Micheal’s agreement to listen. Though what came next would not be the simplest of endeavors. His shoulders rolled back hearing the first bit of the argument he himself had been having for decades.
“It is not that they are feeble creatures. They are volatile, dependent on their environments for so many things. The balance is what allows them their survival. Whereas we are more … concrete is that even the word? I think you know what I'm getting at I haven't...figured it out myself.” If that explanation made any real sense Michael hated thinking about the whole idea of things for longer than it took for him to get a headache. Even talking about it now, while he could have sang praises on the Humans till the cows came home there was always the feeling, just seated below his gut.
“And what about your friends, are they in agreement with your ideas?” he asked leaning forward slightly a look of puzzlement crossing his features. His dark brow had always been such a contrast to his nearly silver colored hair. “ I'm not sure if you realize I did try, when the Accord was first conceived to perhaps consider other alternatives. But really, the world was in a sorry state then but I'm sure you can see it's gotten worse now.” He might as well try to point these things out really, wasn't like it was going to help he knew how Demons were.
But he was going to feed into this for now, see where things went. They called it really being a 'Devil's Advocate'. It was funny how these things worked out in the end wasn't it?
“So we try to reel things back a bit, but while we relinquish our war where does that leave you? Surely you wouldn't stop...it's a hard habit to break I'd imagine.” Speaking as if he didn't have similar problems, why settle for only humility? Why settle for only the basic fundamental understanding. Humility and Humiliation, the debasement of pride and self worth leading to well...less than agreeable circumstances. Michael knew better than most the cost of an overabundance of Humility. Even the virtues of the soul could spell catastrophe. A moment in his life when he had first retreated, heading to the mountains. And he knew the way the Demons thought of the Humans, what they thought about most things.
It was their presence here that had forced the Human's hands on so many things. They had grown up too fast, and now it seemed perhaps rushing to their end, their fate...was an understatement. The Hunters, the wars, their religions even. It seemed that both sides just had to have their hands in the pie so to speak.
Visibly you could tell by the Archangel's face he was still mulling the whole thing over, the loopholes, the potential for failure with this little plan of his not to mention the betrayal. Couldn't just trust demons all willy-nilly after all.
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
Shadowkinesis & Mind Manipulation
Demon Lord
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Post by Asmodeus on Aug 26, 2015 19:53:50 GMT
Asmodeus made a show of rubbing the bridge of his nose in mock irritation. "Do you plan on stopping?" He asked him, finally looking back at him with sharp, intelligent eyes. "Come now. Aside from the corruption of Magik, you and I are the same and I have no doubt that you understand the weight you hold with a Demi God. Not only do you not need to touch someone to spread your virtue, you simply need to be in the area. No matter where we go in the world, we will be spreading our Sin or, in your case, Virtue. Locking ourselves away from the rest of eternity, I'm sure, is not what Mayaria had in mind for us when she sent us here. After all, she sent the rest of the Demi God's into the blackness of the Other Realm. She could have done the same to us. No, I think she wants us to coincide with the humans, and, with each other." He felt like the words leaving his mouth were made up of vomit. Spewing such idealistic bullshit was making him sick. It wasn't the fact that, what he was saying was probably the truth, it was the fact that he wanted Michael to believe he believed what he said. Asmodeus had no intentions of coinciding with Angels and humans. He and the rest of the Demons would destroy them all and rule this pitiful world as they saw fit. Mayaria be damned.
"If, by friends, you mean the other Demon Lords, then you are sorely mistaken. Just because we league ourselves in the same group as Demon Lords, does not mean we are "friends". I like the idea of "work acquaintances" better." He mused. "As a co-worker, I can assure you that nothing you, or your fellow Arch Angels, do will change the way they do things. They will continue to spread Sin and will continue to kill any Angel who comes after them. I do not speak for them nor do I control them. You, however. I don't see how you are in a position to counter offer." He was switching the topic away from the other Demon Lords. "It's really a simple matter. Convince the Arch Angels to let us be and you'll be granted your freedom along with the safety of the rest of the Angels. That's not to say we won't kill any who come after us." he told him. He really didn't expect this conversation to go anywhere but he was interested in seeing where the leader of the Arch Angels's mind set was. How did he see the Demon Lords? How did he see the war and what allegiances did he hold? "Of course, if you decline my offer, you'll remain here for awhile as the others have asked me if they could play with you a bit and then, once they've had their fill, I'll kill you myself." He flashed Michael a dazzling smile, one used for work meetings and not hostage situations.
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Haverdashum
Prosthetic Arm Blade
Archangel
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Post by Michael on Aug 26, 2015 22:01:00 GMT
Michael made a sound from the back of his throat, followed by a shrug. “Meh.” Followed by the tired movement of his stump arm under the jacket. He sometimes forgot that hand gestures were at the very least a bit useless to him right now. “Now that is the question of the hour isn't it?” he said sharply before listing to Asmodeus continue. “She could have, yes...she could have but she didn't.” Another fair point in the argument really. But really there wasn't an argument here, nor was this a negotiation.
But for a period of time he had stopped talking. And he just sat there staring before “Now I understand this isn't your forte, so I'll be brief on my part.” he seemed to visibly puff, like a rooster and if it would have been possible for him to even open his wings he would have, otherwise the effect was sort of useless, like frustrated birds on display.
How he would have liked to believe that these things were true, but from the very moment all of their stories had begun, the moment they had come here and chosen their allegiances it had been set into motion.
“The simple matter, is that I don't believe you. Not even for a New York Minute. Did you want me to believe that, you had a little nap in the mountains and you honestly thought 'Gee maybe all this is wrong and I should reconsider my life's work.'” And there was was another pause.
“And I know this, because every second, since I made the decision to find another path. A better one, and I haven't found it yet. But every second I have to sit here and resist the urge to take my good hand, and wrap it around your throat, and watch your beady little blue eyes bug out from your skull...is agonizing. But that is the path I chose, peace isn't just something you come to one day, it is the absence of conflict, of war. And no matter how many times you pick up that sword to swing at the enemy, you find another enemy, until eventually, you're the one being swung at.” he paused the deep breathing, mythic as if he were making every effort to calm himself. It had been such a short time in captivity and already the pot was boiling. That was the Michael they would have remembered, the bloodied war dog. That good little soldier.
“So no, because there is not even a shred of evidence that you would stop, so why should I? You won't stop, because you like it too much. There's something...something different about you.” And he sneered like a dog at the charming smile.
“That might work on the girls and boys who grew out of the dirt – son – but it certainly won't work on me. Thanks for playing but it takes a more convincing liar, trust me.” another set of breath's.
“I see you for what you are, you were all too weak to resist, and now you revel in the idea that these, things inside us have presented. You try to tell yourselves that it's what you want but its not, not really...they're a plague. And the times going to come where one of us is going to slip up, it could be you, or me, or anyone...” and his face returned, the soft looks, the kind gestures.
“I wish you believed, that we were here for a reason, that we were here to fix our mistakes, to pay our penance for betrayal in helping the enemy of our mother. But you don't and I don't even understand how you're not afraid...you're not...afraid of that thing that's it isn't it?” there was a true fear on the edge of his voice. But for now he didn't wish to continue the conversation on that topic any more. And diverted it back to another route.
“What would get me to believe, is if we could pull together and for the first time in awhile, be honest with each-other about the problem. Magic or no magic, because it's not about us anymore. We were put here to learn from those small clay people....that was why mother put us here. If you could uncloud your eyes to the empire you foresee in the future, and just think about this for three seconds...we might actually come to an agreement.”
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
Shadowkinesis & Mind Manipulation
Demon Lord
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Post by Asmodeus on Aug 28, 2015 18:07:42 GMT
So he didn't take the bait. That was interesting. He'd expected Michael to remain in his current prrsona, one who would rather talk then fight but by the ferocity of his reply, Asmodeus had no doubt the Angel would have leaped at him like a dog if he wasn't bound. It made him all the more inclined to see the Angel suffer.
His smirk never wavered but the corners of the room seemed to move, condensing like a solid mass of shadows. "You see, Michael, the Angel otherwise known as Asmodeus no longer exists. Long before man knew the difference between light and day, I had already emerged. The Demi God is not a separate entity of me and is, in otherwirds, not a threat to me. I do not fear it because it is me. You were right to not believe me. After all, I was only spilling you a mouthful of lies. I wanted to see where you stand." Around Asmodeus's feet, a dark fog began seeping out of the darkness towards Michael, like trained snakes. They moved slowly, inching their way towards Michael's feet. "But, I was honest about one thing. I plan on torturing you for awhile, apeasing a selfish need of mine. Have you ever the sting of shadows, Mikey? Have you ever felt so hopeless that you felt like you were drowning in darkness?" The shadows had reached his feet and we're twining around his legs and waist like corporeal black snakes. The blackness in the room had intensified, almost snuff in the very air from the room. Asmodeus continued to smirk, his eyes glittering dangerously. "I'd like you to find out for me. I've heard it's excruciating."
Asmodeus snapped his fingers and the shadows attacked Michael, borrowing into his skin like ghostly piranhas. They would fill his body like liquid gas, burning his organs as though drenched in fire. They would fill his throat like smoke, cutting off airways and burning his throat. Asmodeus had used this torture on a few before and hadn't met anyone who had been able to resist the pain. His grin widened. He wanted to see Michael writhe in pain.
OOC: Sorry for the slight powerplay! I can change it if you don't like it!
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Haverdashum
Prosthetic Arm Blade
Archangel
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Post by Michael on Aug 28, 2015 20:42:20 GMT
Michael almost couldn't believe it, the words driving him to a chill as he shook his head.”No, no you didn't why...” His stomach had knotted itself just thinking about it, the words resounding in his skull like a bad taste in his mouth. “You can't trust them Asmodeus you can't...” he was cut off by the threat of the shadows scrambling as best he could to his feet in order to place what little distance he could between the approaching blackness. The cold latched onto his spine as the shadows reached his feet. The slick feeling like eels against his skin as they slowly wound their way up his legs.
He twisted slamming his back shoulder into the wall as if maybe the force would have shaken them off. In all his years of war, this was honestly as close as he had come to a demon's magic. It had always been his policy to remove the problem before it started. There had been a few close calls to be sure but this wasn't something he had ever dealt with, not like this.
They had slipped around his waist pressing against the pores of his skin bleeding into his veins as he visibly heaved. Every part of him was so desperate to remove this darkness. The feeling of the room, tightening around him as finally the shadows slipped around his neck. “Asmodeus please...” the words half croaked before the cry escalated into a scream.
His breathing was already labored as he could feel the blood in his veins run cold. The shadows were tearing into him now, spilling into his gut and screaming through his veins. Like dark lines they pulsed against the skin thundering through to his heart and constricting as he let out another struggled sound, the garbled scream. Oh he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of the sound, not if he could help it.
Though he really couldn't, for all the snarls and the cuts like knives, the feeling of hopelessness as the shadows settled over his eyes, the dark film resigning him to a world of darkness as he writhed his body twisting. The dark pulsing of his veins, the skin on his face pale, as if it were barely able to hold in the constricting shadows while he finally screamed. There was a sickening pop, his left arm twisting as the bones in his hand were bent slowly, as if something were trying to pry them apart as the feeling of vicious teeth peeled away at his flesh.
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
Shadowkinesis & Mind Manipulation
Demon Lord
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Post by Asmodeus on Aug 30, 2015 19:03:41 GMT
In the darkness of the room, Asmodeus truly looked like a demon. The feral grin on his face as he watched Michael writhe in pain could send shivers up the spines of even the most hardened horror writers. The amount of pleasure etched on Asmodeus's face was terrifying. After a few moments, Asmodeus snapped his fingers again and, like vapor, the shadows evaporated from Michael, bringing a strange light to the once darkened room.
Asmodeus stood up from the chair and walked over to Michael, grabbing his hair in a fistful and forcing the Angels head back to look at him. "Don't think I've kept you alive out of pure sympathy!" He snarled, blue eyes like hardened sapphires. "You and I can never experience mutual trust and you're about as useful to me as a piece of shit! If you truly want to bring a change to this world before you die, why don't you consider what you can do for me before I kill you!" He released Michael before taking a few steps back.
The door of the room opened and the guard reappeared. Asmodeus turned to him, barking out orders and the guard jumped to comply. After a few moments, the guard returned with some food and a bottle of water which he placed at Michaels feet before unhooking the straight jacket and finally releasing Michaels arms. However, the chains around his ankles keeping him chained to the wall, remained. "Consider this your reward for surviving the shadows." He said coolly, indicating the food.
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Haverdashum
Prosthetic Arm Blade
Archangel
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Post by Michael on Aug 30, 2015 23:24:53 GMT
He could just lie.
Just lie, it could all be over if he just lied. But perhaps it was a personal pride, the last lingering sentiment to who he was, what he knew he represented to these people, to his kin. He could never accept that as a way out, which was narrowing his options, and he was going to need to act fast before they moved on to more drastic measures. These shadows, though physically draining, were not the worst of the tricks Asmodeus had to offer. He shouldn't have taken the bait like that, and now he was going backwards, he was running out of time.
When the shadows left him his eyes had lost track of Asmodeus for a moment, breath hard in his lungs as the burning in his throat and nose finally faded. Blood ran from his nose with the sweat from his brow as he sniffed. His heart was pounding as he fell forward, his knees brought slamming into the floor from the sudden change, from pain, to serenity. He squeezed his eyes shut, and for a few moments tried as best he could to regain himself, jarred by the experience he would not be quick to forget. And when Asmodeus grabbed a hold of his hair tipping his head back he thought for a brief moment he might try to spit in his face. Another act of defiance.
He held his tongue this time, eyes darting from Asmodeus to the corners of the room as if the shadows were still waiting for him. The chill still sinking into his spine despite the shouting. His voice was quiet, the slight tremor on its edge from still recovering lungs. “I know why you've kept me alive.” He was no fool, this was not his first hostage situation, though the first time he had been a hostage. Over the years he had placed many of the demons in similar bonds, situations...Michael was honestly surprised that he hadn't been gutted already if death was so easily threatened.
Finally let go, and free of the jacket Michael fell forward, the t-shirt soaked with sweat, dried blood against the collar and the small picture of a band he had never heard of himself on it's front. Just in his pajamas, on his hands and knees in front of the Demon Lord before snatching the food and stuffing it into his mouth. They couldn't take away what was already gone and he had to be quick before Asmodeus changed his mind.
He held the bottle in his hand unscrewing the cap with his teeth before spitting it back out across the floor. Finally free to use his arms, to rinse the blood out of his mouth with the water swallowing hard again. The water was long gone before he had even noticed before finally returning to his position on the floor, sitting in front of Asmodeus. The longer he stalled here, would that keep Asmodeus from his plans? But how long could he stall? How long before they lost their cool again? The first feelings of hopelessness had wormed their way into his mind. He, might be here, he could die here.
“I know why...and I reject your proposal...for as long as I am able I will continue to do so.” his voice was back to some normality, staring up at him. That cold look in his eyes, preparing himself for what would come next, knowing it would only become worse the longer he resisted. They would have their stalemate.
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