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Post by x on Oct 3, 2005 11:12:14 GMT -6
[glow=navy,2,300]Plunge into the darkness, take your parting from the light, feel your emotions fade away, into this...[/glow] [glow=purple,2,300] Perfect Night[/glow] From the beginning has there been a war between light and shadow. For uncounted centuries, good and evil were locked in a stalemate; the mightiest agents of justice clashed relentlessly with cruelest barons of apocalypse. It seemed as if the war could last for eternity, but then something no one could have foreseen came to pass... A righteous angel was taken to the Abyss alive. There, the most powerful demons performed a black ritual upon her that would seal the light away forever. Born from her was an angel with black wings. His tortured mother lived so long as to see his hand, still dripping with her own blood, lash out and crush through her throat - just as had been expected. He was the ultimate power: a fusion of dark and light, and he fought for the powers of chaos. He was the Dark Angel - Exor. The tide of war began to rise against the light upon the introduction of the demon's super-weapon. Exor's elite squad ripped a swath through the enemy lines, clearing the way for his masters' forces. The Dark Angel and his minions made their way to the very Gates, but it was there that they were cut off from the rest of their forces and ambushed by the Vanguard of Heaven itself. Although the armored angels were eventually forced to fall back, only one enemy remained behind their lines. Exor was the end of many more upon his path to slay the leaders of his enemies. Passing through countless squares and streets, he made his way into the walls of their innermost sanctum. The defenders were forced back into their fortress to await his attack, and the Dark Angel continued his bloody way toward them. Just inside the gates of the capital city, he passed through a church, killing all who opposed him as well as anyone in his path. It was here that a voice ordered him to stop. A priestess. She stood before him with her arms outstretched, her white robes drenched in the blood of the woman that was inches before her a moment ago. "You can't go on doing this! You have to stop!" Exor actually smiled beneath his obsidian helmet before bringing his blade down. The woman shed a tear of scarlet; the sword only cutting her cheek. The smile vanished. "Oh, aren't you a brave woman? Too bad bravery will not save you from me." Nightmare sang as it sliced through the air between the two. The girl did not so much as cry out - the sword stopped short. Exor started, "Wha-! What kind of enchantment is this? What sorcery is abound!" He leaped into the air and brought the massive blade down upon her once more. His feet hit the ground and screams echoed in the hallowed hall. But again, the priestess was unharmed. It was not some barrier protecting her from Nightmare. It was Exor. She put her arms out to the Dark Angel, "End this pain, this suffering." He fell back with a swipe of his sword, cutting the young woman's hand. He looked up at her from the ground. Her hair was a sandy color, her fair skin radiant as the gold adorning the hall. Her eyes were of a magical emerald hue. Those eyes are what held him. They held a strong will, conviction, but at the same time a sadness. "I... You cannot end it!" He sprang forward, Nightmare lunging for her heart, "This war is my life! I was born to destroy you all!" The girl sucked in her breath. Her blood trickled from her wound. Nightmare rested against her breast, the sheer edge cutting her skin. She released her breath and smiled across the blade at him. Again offering her hand, she spoke warmly to him, "Come on... Let's finish this..."The invincible one froze in place, his mouth agape. The priestess moved the sword and walked over to him, draping her arms around his cold armor. Exor's knees gave out, and somehow the girl managed to ease him to the floor. He stared helplessly at her through the black of his helm. He tried a word, but nothing came of it. She held him in a tight embrace, and something happened inside of him. He felt. More than hatred, malice, and the lust for power. He felt alone. He felt pain. He felt as if a large part of his very soul was missing. And he felt as if he had found it in her eyes. Her eyes smiled at him, "Let's finish this..."A young woman, not even a warrior, accomplished what even the Vanguard of Heaven could not. That day saw the end of the Dark Angel's assault on the light, and the coming days witnessed his attack on the darkness. The tide soon turned against the evil that created Exor and Nightmare as he stood on the side of good and drove the shadow back into the Abyss where it was sealed away. Following the final battle, the priestess lead the Dark Angel back to Heaven. It was decided that the fiend could not be forgiven, and so it was that he was banished to the mortal realm. So, too, was the woman's fate sealed to watch over Exor for eternity, for she alone had power over him. And so it was, a grand ceremony was held, and the priestess sealed Exor's evil deep within him. The two were sent to Earth where they served in many roles throughout their unending lives. They saw the many changes of the world, through many of its ages. They stayed together the entire time; they were each other's only constant. From wonder came friendship, and from friendship came something more - a love to surpass any before or since. She was his lady, and he was her knight. As fate would have it, all was not well after the war. Darkness began to seep into the world of men, and Exor was called upon once more to combat it. Only the highest of the church knew of the true nature of the priestess and the Dark Angel, and they sent Exor to deal with major problems. On one such occasion, he found himself battling a platoon of lesser demons. While he fought them and sealed the gate, something happened outside the Rome Building on Crete... Exor return flight was diverted to the Vatican - a rarity in itself. He got off the plane and was greeted by a Vatican Guard unit, their weapons trained on him. "What is the meaning of this," he sighed. "You are to come with us. The council wishes to speak with you." He walled his eyes and obeyed... Deep within the cloisters of the Vatican, nine men sat in shadow around the Dark Angel. He could clearly see their frowning faces despite the darkness. The priestess had been taken. She and her entourage were ambushed in the market on Crete, and she was reportedly taken alive. The men that took her moved with inhuman speed and power and clad in black. As they had been ordered to earlier, they would confine Exor to the deepest vaults beneath the Vatican until the priestess was recovered. Hells, this much time has passed, and they still don't trust me... Humans......Mustering the entirety of his will, Exor allowed himself to be bound beneath the vaults... And that's where you come in. Name: Age: Culture: Home: Discipline: Every Discipline has one fighting style. Warrior: Can choose an additional fighting style. Spirit Link: Communications, Divinity, Detection Brimstone: A fighter with divine Smiting Powers, can only have a Martial or Melee style. Divine Light: A monk with divine Healing and Protective Abilities, can only have a Martial or Melee style. Holy Knight: A fighter clad in blessed armor with some Protective and Healing powers, but not that of the other Disciplines. You can make more, but try to keep them to these guidelines. Power explanations later. Fighting Styles: Martial, Firearm, Archaic Melee, Archaic Ranged, or Other You CAN mix styles, but you won't be exceptional at either or. And everyone can shoot a handgun. Whether or not you hit anything... I'm tryin to keep it open and kinda realistic and then some. Still in development, but the mechanics don't really matter this early on anyway. They'll get here. Send me suggestions and questions, too.History: Other: Images: Nightmare elfwood.lysator.liu.se/art/d/p/dpierce85a/swords.jpg.htmlExor and the Priestess (with her clothes changed appropriately) elfwood.lysator.liu.se/art/d/p/dpierce85a/whatyouneverknew.jpg.html(I know the cyan's hard to look at, but it has a major purpose.)
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Archangel
Ice Breaker
And thus did the Archangel descend from Heaven itself...
Posts: 478
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Post by Archangel on Oct 4, 2005 21:42:42 GMT -6
Name: Hikari Aimaina (so his first name is Aimaina) Age: 54 Culture: Japanese Home: Okinawa, Japan Discipline: Brimstone Fighting Styles: Martial
History: Aimaina was a founder of a Catholic Church in Okinawa, Japan at a young age. A full Catholic, a deacon and training to be a priest, Aimaina discovered the teachings of O-Sensei, the founder of Aikido. The Japanese tradition was in the martial arts and Shintoism, from which Aikido stemmed. Aimaina somehow found a way to reconcile the beliefs of Aikido, things like a "universal oneness" and "peace between yourself and your opponent" as Catholic beliefs, and took up Aikido in his spare time. Becoming a full priest, he also became a dan in Aikido, similar to a black belt. As he preached from his pulpit on Sundays, so he also rose through the ranks of Aikidokas. Soon, he became a 7th level dan, with martial powers far superior to anything the normal clergy had. Not only that, but he was a fanatical believer in Christ and God Himself, absolutely devoted to religion and Aikido as his ways of life. The Vatican saw this, and even though he is an older man, they knew he was fit enough and devoted enough to become what they needed in their group. And so, Aimaina Hikari left his home in Okinawa for a special assignment...
Other: He is a peaceful man at heart, living the Aikido credo of universal love and the Catholic credo of forgiving your neighbor. However, if anyone should threaten to fight him or his God, whom he loves dearly, then he considers that an "offset of balance" in his world. And he feels he must restore that balance, in whatever way possible. For one who upsets the balance of peace and ki in the universe is defeated before he even begins to fight.
OOC: I hope this is ok. I might change it after a little while.
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Post by Kaisar on Oct 5, 2005 3:54:20 GMT -6
(Me thinks this is ok...) Name: Aura Illuminis Age: 23 Culture: Unknown Home: None Discipline:Vanguard -Similar to a Holy Knight only specializes in smiting and detection to better keep alert for dangers in their duty to protect the priestess. Also wears a little less armor then the holy Knights which is more leather and scale mail to allow for fats movement and agile attack. Fighting Styles: Martial/Archaic Melee History: One of the youngest of the priestess’ entourage and one of the few to survive the assault by the dark creatures. She has made it her sworn duty to rescue the priestess to go some way towards amending her own failure to protect her when she needed it most. Other: During the assault where the priestess was captured one of the shadows that attacked hit her shredding the left side of her face and leaving four deep scars across her cheek and down her neck, healed by one of her fellow survivors.
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Post by wolfe on Oct 5, 2005 15:10:15 GMT -6
Name: Alexander Wolfe Age: Eternal Culture: Direct Follower of God Home: North Tower, Vatican: Most holy land Discipline: Spirit Link Fighting Styles: Martial: Muay Thai
History: A Holy Agent sent from God to the Mortal Plain, Alexander is on Earth to keep things in the name of God. He was tought long ago, before the days of modern weapons, the most effective ways of fighting hand-to-hand. A master tought him Muay Thai, and warrned against it's use, for the art is a dangerous one, and can easily kill. Over the countless years on Earth, Alexander has fought a good number of battles against Agents of Hell and evil humans alike. But he has never had anyhting but a calm in his soul; the sign of a true Holy Agent.
Other: Alexander has dewelled in the Vatican's North Tower for hundreds of years. His purpose is to watch over God's children, and undo any wicked deeds. Mostly this has involved a certain priestess and, in Alexander's eyes, an Unholy Demon who has wormed his way into the Lord's caring eyes; undeservingly. Still, he carries out his actions without hesitation, for it is his immortal task to do nothing less.
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Post by x on Oct 5, 2005 19:35:57 GMT -6
Alright, a brief rundown of the abilities...
Warrior: Can choose an additional fighting style. Warriors are the basic fighter class. No bells or whistles, but they can kick some major ass. Spirit Link: Communications, Divinity, Detection. Spirit Links are more of the mediums in the crurch system. They can communicate between each other, and are usually posted every so often. Brimstone: A fighter with divine Smiting Powers, can only have a Martial or Melee style. Brimstones are warriors with a divine twist: God's wrath, if you will. They are extremely effective at destroying evil, doing more damage with their Smiting powers. These attacks can only be sent through the warrior himself, and so only unarmed martial combat or melee weapons can transmit the energy. Divine Light: A monk with divine Healing and Protective Abilities, can only have a Martial or Melee style. These are the White Mages, more or less. Same thing about energy transmission as above. Holy Knight: A fighter clad in blessed armor with some Protective and Healing powers, but not that of the other Disciplines. Tank. Divine Tank. Like a medieval knight, everything including the sword and shield.
Fighting Styles: Martial: Unarmed style. Wolfe is martial. Firearm: Guns, guns, and the occasional gun. Archaic Melee: Weapons, like swords, sais, bo-staves, halberds, kamas, claws... Archaic Ranged: Bow, crossbow, darts, blowguns... Other: Can't think of anything else off hand.
And although I intended mortals and the occasional "Divine Touched", I'll allow you to remain as you are, Wolfe. "I've got somethin for you..."
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Anna Molly™
Ice Breaker
My Devil danced with his Demon and the fiddler's tune is far from over.
Posts: 177
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Post by Anna Molly™ on Oct 6, 2005 23:01:47 GMT -6
(ooc: Oy, something off the top of my head...)
Name: Krystal Sapienta
Age: 24
Culture: Italian/Ethiopian
Home: Venice, Italy
Discipline: Divine Light
Fighting Styles: -Not really having a sole style, she tends to go with the flow and hope for the best in a combat situation, working with what she's given. More martial than anything, she can fight archaic melee a bit but only if it were her last option...
History: Born into the ways of a church and taught some of the secrets of the covenant, Krystal's childhood consisted mainly of training and studying the ways of the Divine and Holy. In her younger years, she would work and train without question, throwing her heart and soul into Catholicism and the Holy Spirit. It was only in her teen years did she begin to see something a little off with it all...she never questioned her faith but rather, perhaps there was more to the story than she'd be given? Still training religiously, on the side she began on personal research, stumbling upon things of interest...and some things best left in the depths. Nonetheless, it all intrigued her, managing to mix her up in situations she'd rather read about in the fiction section of the library she works in...
Other: An optimistic presence, Krystal tries to always keep a smile on her face, happy despite the times. She isn't a social butterfly, sticking mainly to herself unless she has no choice. Willing to lend a hand when needed, her innocence and positive demeanor sometimes give way to her being an airhead, it being miles away from the truth. Logical and holding a high intelligence, she doesn't like having to fight; knowing there has to be another alternative. Rarely serious, the one thing that bothers her is what she calls her 'petty addiction' to a Starbucks Doubleshot Espresso and the coffee conglomerate in its entirety...
(ooc: think that'll do...any probs let me know, yah? And when oh when can an intro be done...?)
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Post by shadows on Oct 7, 2005 9:32:16 GMT -6
Name: Known simply as Lore Age: Unknown Culture: Unknown Home: Unknown Discipline: Dark Bladesman- Lore does not fight for good, or evil. He believes in only himself, and has learned ways to manipulate his own energy into his sword; weapon of choice for a Dark Bladesman. Like the Brimstone Discipline, Dark Bladesman allows powered attacks, only Lore's is prone to smite both Holy, and Unholy agents. Fighting Style: Archaic Melee
History: An... individual... with guts to stand up to the Vatican. "Holy just isn't how I roll," He says. He holds a strong disbelief in God, and Religion, and so has the Vatican on his ass. But I don't think cutting down agents of the Light helped his situation.
Other: A supposed master of Swordplay, Ellie Thompson was lucky to not taste his blade. A young girl who cowered as her unit was slaughtered. He took slow deliberate steps towards her, reared her head back with a gloved hand, and kissed her. Hard. He told her to remember his face, and to tell the Vatican. So she did. The recorded appearance of Lore is a 6'3" tall, acrobatic looking man clad in black. Longish black hair whips about in a non-existant wind, begging someone to grip on, as they laid a death blow upon him that never came. Chocolate brown eyes flare in the shadows of his hood. Scent intoxicating. The girl also said, with some embarrassment, that, "He was... handsome in the face, a lopsided grin portraying boundless confidence..." And a warmth that makes you want to melt into his arms...
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Post by x on Oct 9, 2005 21:24:31 GMT -6
She barely came to, pain ruling her body. The girl found herself in torn robes tattered with her own blood within a large cage. She sat up with great effort and prepared a spell to heal her wounds. The white light around her fell into black energy, further ravaging her battered form. She trembled upon the cage's floor, barely able to see. But she saw it anyway. The Baphomet Pentagram. The entire area it seemed had been sealed against holy power. She picked herself up again and began to treat her wounds, "Well, ugh... So much for that... I guess we go the old fashioned way..."
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Exor lay on the bunk in the vault beneath the Vatican. His thoughts were on his closest friend.
Exor carried her over his shoulder, "No, I want to try being mortal. We're among them, so we may as well be like them." The priestess shook her head and coughed, "Shut up, Exor... I feel bad enough already... I don't need you, too..." He smirked, "Want me just to leave you here...?" Her silence meant no. "Didn't think so... We do tend to vanish every so often, break off ties and so on to appear to die, so that no one really knows for sure what we are... That's enough. But you wanted to do things 'the way God intended'..." He shifted her into his arms, "But you are so damn hard headed..."
He took care of her in their current home in the countryside of France for the next two weeks...
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Archangel
Ice Breaker
And thus did the Archangel descend from Heaven itself...
Posts: 478
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Post by Archangel on Oct 9, 2005 22:24:58 GMT -6
Aimaina stood in his room, his feet set in the classical position, his arms outstretched and his posture straight. Calmly, methodically, he went through his morning rituals, his exercises that only Aikido practitioners did, and some that only Aikidokas of the highest rank knew about. He worked his muscles one by one, moving his way through blocks, strikes, and attacks, the moves cemented in his mind like great immovable stones. As he worked his body, so too did he work his ki, his life energy, his soul. He focused his ki power into his hands, extending it like a blade from his finger tips in a kind of intangible mental push. He focused it inwards, concentrating it into his lower abdomen, swirling it in circular patterns inside himself to mimic the continuity of the world. And he then centered it down to his feet, cementing himself in the world, grounding himself and giving himself something to push on as he worked his body. In and out, up and down, he worked both his mind and his body, his ki and his muscles. And the entire time, he prayed. He prayed to the One God, the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth. He said his prayers in such a manner every morning, and every evening. Nothing disrupted his ritual of training exercises and intense praying to his Holy God. It was a part of who he was, and a very strong, significant part of who he could be.
After about a half hour of exercises, the Japanese man rested, his body coated in a fine sheen of sweat. If you didn't work your body hard enough to make it sweat, then everything you did was just a joke. Even the oldest master could work himself into a sweat doing his exercises. With a sigh, he went to the bag at the end of his bed, and began putting on his clothes. It was an odd ensemble for an Aikidoka, but definitely priestly. A black robe, with a flare at the bottom for easier movement and long sleeves tight against the arms, showed his firm physique. His collar was white, showing him to be an ordained priest of the Catholic church. He wore a wooden cross around his neck, a simple one without paint or other colorings to mar its wooden perfection. And he arrayed his graying hair neatly, it being not very long and easy to manage. His dark grey eyes flashing, he stepped out into the hallway and walked down the hall.
He was in the Vatican, that most holy ground. He had been brought here for an undisclosed purpose, and told that his mission would be explained to him shortly. He was confused, however, and frustrated. He had a parish to attend to, a flock to preach to in Okinawa! Of course, he could never imagine defying the Cardinals, or any of the other Church officials who had made the decision to send him here. He was a loyal believer in God, and a loyal priest in mind and body. But how he hated the bureaucracy of the Catholic Church. He considered himself a good Catholic, one who was open-minded and forgiving in all things. But the ridiculousness of the Church lately, with all the scandals in America concerning pedophilia and all the money issues involved with a lowering of Catholic followers, was driving him beyond the normal bounds of his exquisitely slow temper. If he were not a Catholic priest himself, he would completely disavow the Church at this time and go on his own.
However, his disbelief in the Church did not affect his belief in God. Aimaina was a strong believer in the Catholic faith, and believed in God with all his might. He had seen the power of God on more than one occassion, and he did not doubt in Jesus Christ the Savior. He believed the Bible to be the one true source of religious beliefs, and he trusted in the holiness of the Pope and those who served under him. He just wished the bureaucracy wasn't so absolutely horrid. If the Church could be as it was before, in the times of absolute trust in the clergy, open-mindedness among all the followers, and a belief in the certainty of God Himself, that would be amazing. But as it was now...there was nothing he could do but seethe inwardly and follow along as he was told.
He reached Cardinal Xiang's office, a plush and overly extravagant place in one of the Vatican's outlying buildings. That was another thing he disliked as well...the extravagance of the clergy. Weren't they all supposed to be devoted to God, and not to material possessions? With a sigh, he let himself in, and told the Cardinal's secretary that he was here for his 9:00 appointment. The secretary, a Japanese-Indian woman, smiled at him and pressed the intercom button. Then, with a sigh, Aimaina sat down in a nearby chair, smoothed his robes, and waited. The Cardinal Xiang was his direct superior, a step above the Archbishop and two steps above the Bishop of Okinawa. He was the man responsible for bringing Aimaina here, and he was supposed to be the man to give Aimaina the answers he wanted. So the priest would wait until this very powerful, very busy man was ready for him, and then he would go and ask some very important questions. Like...why am I here?
OOC: I don't know exactly what to have the Cardinal tell him, so I decided to wait a bit and then just go for it. We'll see...
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Post by Kaisar on Oct 10, 2005 3:09:17 GMT -6
Aura stood in the center of the training yard dressed simply in a leather vest and pants made of the same soft flexible material cut above the knees. Her feet were bare but for the touch black binding across the arch and ankle of her foot before reaching up to mid-shin. In her hands she held a bo-staff carved from holy cider and engraved with ancient runes of protection and strength, the core of the staff had been hollowed out and filled with silver, blessed and potent against unholy beasts. The ends which normally contained retractable blades had been modified for the training bout about to begin. Her flame-red and golden hair was cropped boyishly short with but two slender plaits left behind her ears. At the ends were tied two white feathers longer then any found on a bird of earth. They rested gently upon her collar bones and reflected the light giving them a pearly sheen.
Opening her eyes slowly Auar locked her cold violet eyes upon the monk before her. He stood shirtless and wielding a bo-staff of mahogany. He bowed once and Aura returned the action. Then a steady beat began as a drummer beat slowly on an old set of drums setting the beat to their out. They circled staves held at the ready bare feet stepping lightly in the sand. Her gaze was unwavering and steady upon her opponent, the monk’s was equally unreadable. The beat changed to an aggressive rhythm an Aura attacked diving forward before the monk could take the offensive her staff striking his as he blocked the low. A loud crack filling the training room. She thrust out with her leg striking the monk in the torso; he went backwards under the force of the low but never lost his balance even as he went backwards. In a fluid movement the monk arched over backwards his legs lifting into the air as he twisted and landed back on his feet. The rhythm changed and they resumed circling. Auras mind returned to the assault the scar on her face throbbing dully as the blood raced through her veins. The demon scar would always be a bitter reminder to her failure. She was unable to protect the priestess in her moment of need. Failure, failed, disgrace those were the words the Vatican had said to her. had the any spoken to her in such a way Aura would have had the asshole by the balls begging for mercy, nobody talked to her like that. She obeyed only the Priestess, ut she had failed her and Aura had no right to defend herself against what she knew in her soul to be true.
Anger surged and she lunged the moment the rhythm changed again attacking with a brutal rage driving the monk back step after step under her fury driven rage. She struck high low and fast the ends striking flesh until she ducked low thrusting up in a vicious up thrust driving her staff into the soft flesh just below the breast bone and vaulting the monk into the air. He went up four meters before falling down to the ground. Aura blinked slowly coming back to reality, sweat covered her body and the room was silent. She stood straight head bowed allowing her salty sweat to sting at her eyes. Turning her head to the monk her tuned senses told her he still lived, barely. The last blow would have killed had she struck the breast bone, it had been hard enough to break it and probably hit the heart. He was lucky.
Again she bowed her head and turned leaving the training room ignoring the horrified looks of those who had also been training in the room. He scar ached, perhaps mirroring the same ache in her soul. The priestess had always been something like a mother figure to her, kind and patients. She could still moments of rage like the one that had gripped her with but a word. She had to be found, but Aura didn’t have a clue where to start, she didn’t have the wisdom of ages to know the ways of demons. There was only one who did and he was beyond her reach for the time being… or was he?
She smiled faintly as she plotted infiltration. The Vatican had more or less dismissed her when she failed to protect the Priestess, that meant she was a free agent and their laws meant nothing to her. Upon discovering the missing priestess Aura had vowed she would not rest until she was rescued. It seemed to her it was time to break every rule and go into the vaults beneath the Vatican the catacombs were vast but she didn’t doubt she could find the way. Aura had met the Angel Exor once before, the sense of his being was very unique and powerful. Once down there she could just follow the feeling of his life energy much as a blood hound would scent out its target. Once there she could ask him about the best place to begin looking for the priestess.
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Post by x on Oct 10, 2005 21:13:18 GMT -6
After a few more minutes of waiting, Cardinal Xiang came in from outside, hurried toward his office. "Hikari Aimaina is here for his nine o'clock with you, Cardinal Xiang," his secretary told him as he strolled through. As if torn from deep thought, he looked at her, and then to Aimaina. Xiang was tall for an oriental man. His age accented his position and gave to a feeling of respect one felt obligated to show him - as one should. "Aimaina, good! Step into my office." With perfect grace, dan Aimaina followed Xiang. The Cardinal closed the door behind them and spoke quickly and quietly, "I regret my tardiness, Aimaina, but these are trying times indeed. Alexander Wolfe himself has just arrived here, and I had to speak with him. In case you haven't heard, Alexander is a servant of God Himself and a clairvoyant. And that brings us to the matter at hand. Aimaina, do you know the secret legend of the fallen angel and his keeper?" Aimaina shook his head slowly, unsure how to respond. He sat himself down in the offered seat, but not before bowing to the Cardinal in the traditional manner, his hands clenched in front of him and his body stiff with formality. "I am sorry, Excellency, but I do not. Perhaps you could tell me this legend?" Aimaina was a little bit impatient...what he really wanted to know was why he was here, and not a Catholic legend. But he kept quiet and listened to the Cardinal, because that's what he was expected to do. He would not break his calm in front of so powerful a person. "Unfortunately, Aimaina, I don't have time to get into details," Cardinal Xiang began, "so here's the short version. Long ago, the war between the forces of Heaven and Hell was at a stalemate for many years. But the legions of the damned took an angel prisoner and created from her a half divine demon. This dark angel tore through the forces of Heaven, and it seemed that he would cause a great catastrophe. But in the innermost sanctum of Heaven, he met a preistess. This woman somehow had dominion over him, and so he was stopped and turned against the Hells that spawned him. After the war, the Lord could not allow him to stay in Heaven and banished him to our mortal realm. And the priestess to keep him under control. Now Aimaina, I know this sounds like a fantasy, but you must believe with your faith that this is all too real. That fallen angel is called Exor, and he is in the most secure place on God's earth right now - in the deepest vaults below us. He is being bound there because that self same priestess has been taken by what can only be agents of Hell. We must get her back, or it is believed that the dark angel could turn on us," the man crossed himself before he finally took his seat, "and God help us if it comes to that..." Aimaina looked at the Cardinal with a glint in his eye. Could he believe this man? What he was saying...that was fantasy, wasn't it? It couldn't be true? And yet...and yet for all his life, Aimaina had believed that the Bible was a true book, filled with real things and real people. He believed in the Son of God as a man, he believed that Moses once walked the Earth, he believed that these things were real. So was it so hard to believe that angels and demons were real? Was it so hard to believe that the agents of Hell were still on the planet, wreaking havok? He thought for a long minute, digesting the Cardinal's words. Then, with the firm voice of a believer, he spoke. "Your Excellency, is that why I'm here? To bring the Priestess back from the agents of Hell? Is that why you've summoned me?" His voice was unwavering, and his resolve complete. He really did believe this, no matter how amazing it was. It all made sense, it all fit in his version of the world. And if that was why he was here...he would do anything he could to help out his Church. Xiang sighed, "Yes, Aimaina, that is why you have been brought here with so little notice. The priestess was going about her business on Crete when she and her entourage were attacked by a group of men that posessed 'inhuman strength and speed'. They took her this yesterday afternoon." Cardinal Xiang took a sip of black tea before he spoke again, "You are quite accomplished in the ways of Akido, dan, and a respected member of the Church. Naturally, you were one of those singled out to participate in this sensitive and important assignment. The others should be here by now." He pressed a button on the red phone on his desk, "Madam Rosemary, has Ms. Krystal Sapienta arrived?" The Aikido dan looked at the Cardinal as he took a sip of his tea, and cleared his throat cautiously. "Thank you for the compliments, your Excellency, but I have a question." As Xiang looked up at him, Aimaina felt a humbled and nervous, and so his next words came out in a sort of rush. "Why do you keep the Dark Angel in the depths of the Vatican dungeons? Wouldn't he better serve us if he were released, and sent after the Priestess? I mean, if he's under her spell as strongly as you seem to portray him, shouldn't he be allowed access to her?" He felt very stupid, asking such a question, but it worried him. He was not afraid to go on a mission of retrieval. God would protect him, He always had and always would. But with the Dark Angel on their side, who could stop them from rescuing her? Before Cardinal Xiang could surmount a reply, his secretary spoke through the speakerphone, "No, sir. But a call has just come in for you from the North training facility. Will you take it? It's Master Hikaru, and he sounds urgent." Cardinal Xiang hesitated, "Yes, Madam Rosemary. Put him through. Master Hikaru, old friend, what is it?" "Cardinal Xiang! The survivor of the attack, the woman, Aura Illuminis, almost killed Master Khan! She's escaped the building and is loose on the Vatican! Please, enstate a high alarm and have all available men look for her! Uh, a Krystal Sapienta has joined our efforts to find her, sir!" "What? She almost killed Master Khan?" "It was in training, sir. She just sort of snapped. What should we do when we find her?" Cardinal Xiang again hesitated, and smiled, "Bring her to my office..." "But sir! She -" "I know, Master Hikaru. Please escort her here as soon as you encounter her." Hikaru was in shock, "Yes, Cardinal Xiang." The Cardinal sighed, "Yes, Aimaina, we do believe that Exor could indeed get to her on his own. But that brings to mind something I overlooked in my short version. He weilded a blade unlike anything ever seen in Heaven, Hell, or on Earth. The sword, Nightmare, is a cursed weapon. It is said to steal the very soul of its enemy. And it completely lives up to its name in the hands of the Dark Angel. He has been forbidden from using it, lest he fall to its evil influence..." Aimaina nodded his head in limited understanding. So the Church feared that Exor would be out of their control. That made some sense, at least. He looked at Xiang, and sighed. "Well, sir...when do I get to meet the others on this mission? Are there many? And...and do you require help searching for this Aura Illuminis? I could be of some help finding her, even though I do not know the Vatican as well as most of your guards do." He spoke in a very calm, humble voice, and expected a negative answer and a command to return to his room, which he would of course follow. "Actually, Aimaina, your help would be a great service. Consider it a sight-seeing tour. I'll have Krystal Sapienta meet you out front in a few moments. And maybe Alexander Wolfe, if he feels it. Perhaps he can just get us her location..." "Excuse me, sir," Madam Rosemary interrupted, "but Alexander Wolfe has informed me that he has cleared the Vault guards that lead to the detainee and tells me that Aura and the one called Lore will be at his cell shortly. Alexander Wolfe will be waiting in secret as well. He asks that your excellency and dan Hikari meet Ms. Sapienta in the courtyard and head down there." Cardinal Xiang stood, "Thank you, Madam Rosemary. Aimaina, let's go." He opened the door and stepped out into the courtyard...
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Post by Kaisar on Oct 11, 2005 3:46:24 GMT -6
Aura walked with her eyes closed in the dark underground passages of the Vatican. Her mind let free she could feel the life forces of those who moved through the underground. Sparks of light in varying strengths and hues through out. Some were dark other bright but she could tell when they moved and right now the guards who had stood near one of the strongest in the underground had dispersed they knew she was gone. Her eyes opened slowly and Aura smiled coldly. She liked a challenge… The scars on her face still throbbed and gingerly she touched them feeling fain heat in the injuries. Snorting she lowered her hand and adjusted the grip on her staff walking silently across the damp floor. Hearing strained she heard the soft foot fall of soldiers, she didn’t need her detection abilities to know they were setting up an ambush. She slipped along the shadows edging closer to the guards patrolling the corridors her hand trailing along the damp wall until it gave way to darkness. She slipped into the side passage and crouched in wait. The guards came closer their steps steady and quiet. They walked past the opening and Aura attacked her staff striking at the base of the head with one sending him to the ground and the butt hitting the other in the temple. They were on the ground with barley a sound their breathing shallow. The guards would live… Her senses ahead and around her Aura continued on closer to the vault she encountered no more guards and found the air around her to begin to feel oppressing. Something didn’t feel right. Cautious Aura entered a more open area then the passage looking ahead where the door to the vault stood. Archaic symbols were engraved within the metal of the door, symbols of defense, strength and the mark of the seal. She sighed softly and swung her staff across her shoulders hooking her arms across the staffs length. Strolling almost casually Aura moved over to the door placing her hands either side of the seal. She frowned as a memory came to her unbidden of a lesson she once had concerning seals. -*- ”Seals both holy and defiled can be released with the right key.” The priestess explained to a younger Aura as she nursed a burnt hand after trying to push open a door that held a seal upon it. The Priestess took her burnt hand and healed the damage Aura's ‘accident’ had caused and motioned to the door. ”Place your hands either side of the seal you see and focus on it with your mind. Touch it lightly and listen to it. Each seal has its own key some are concealed within objects but in truth they are energy, and with that energy is a unique harmonic vibration. If you want to open a seal you need to create an energy wave opposite in force and frequency. “You don’t always need to find the object that is the key because you can create a false wave with your own blessed energy such as that used with smiting. It’s harder for those of us who are on the side of good however to duplicate the right key for the defiled seals as they were created by demons and unholy energy. Of course if your stronger then the seal before you you could just smash through it but that’s not always wise because traps can be laced with the seals making them deadly if not broken properly…” The priestess voice faded leaving Aura to open the door. She felt the resonance in the real like she said and then duplicated it in her hands with the energy normally used in her smiting attacks and reversed it. The seal dissolved opening the door beyond.-*- Aura now did what she had been taught ignoring all else around her and focused on the seal. It was complex comprising of not one but several layered upon one another. Breaking seals with fake keys reminded her of lock picking. She began with the top most seal and concentrated on it blocking out the others and shaped her smiting energy to it before reversing the energy. It opened and faded away. Aura smiled with smug satisfaction and focused on there next perspiration forming on her forehead and down her back from the effort used to break the seals, she could break them all given time but it would be slow.
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Post by shadows on Oct 11, 2005 8:56:52 GMT -6
"You honestly believe you can break the Seals of Twilight?" Came an amused, lazy voice behind Aura. As if on cue, a dark wave pulsed from the vault, catapulting her to the ground at Lore's feet. He crouched, and looked down at her with a gaze of chocolate. "I'd hate to say, 'I told you so', but yeah. They did not lock a being which could destroy this world with a motion of his hand..." He raised a brow, "...where a lowly sheep like you could get to, nevermind what power it takes to break his prison." Blowing a strand of black away from his eyes with a gust of breath from an upturned lip, Lore stood, stepping over Aura to stand before Exor's vault. The black clad man raised a hand, pressing it firmly against the vault. The energies exposed veins in his arm, sparks of shadow flying over his body; own aura clashing with that of the seals. Why?
"This is pitiful, Dark Angel. I thought... you were supposed to be a legend. A creation of Heaven and Hell. An immortal wielder of negative light, and a warrior for justice..." Lowering his arm, it all stopped as suddenly as it began. "...But now that I know you are in this vault, see it with my own eyes, you are nothing. I could shatter this, and I am no where near what destruction you weave." He shook his head, letting out a long sigh. "I am very dissapointed in you, Dark Angel."
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Anna Molly™
Ice Breaker
My Devil danced with his Demon and the fiddler's tune is far from over.
Posts: 177
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Post by Anna Molly™ on Oct 11, 2005 20:33:03 GMT -6
(ooc: sorry for the rushed/crappy intro postie but I’m too exhausted to post something nice :\ Hopefully my next after school session won’t kick my ass so hard…)
Krystal’s eyes darted back and forth over the worn yellow pages, italic black font barely legible to even her eyes. She leaned forward, raven lashes close enough to brush across the dust covered page. “Hmm…” The woman leaned back, smoothing back the pages of the impossibly old textbook.
An ecstatic grin came, near flawless teeth glistening white under the fluorescent lighting of the extravagant library. She poked at her mini fangs, shifting in the receptionist desk wearily. The lady placed a loose strand of ebony hair behind her ear, full lips turning into a pout as she fixed her ponytail. She let it out, thick and wavy hair falling past her shoulders. Slicking it back, she tightened her scrunchie, raising her ponytail. She allowed two strands to dangle in the front, the hanging hair silvery grey. Krystal didn’t quite understand why only the two front portions were grey, especially when taken into consideration it wasn’t a hereditary issue. But…it does make for interesting hair styles..
Her attention returned to the thick leather textbook on her desk. Krystal’s currently azure eyes eyed the book blissfully. She had waited for an impossible amount of time for the book to arrive, the piece of literature before her probably more valuable than her life. It dated back to times long before the Renaissance, a handwritten masterpiece giving detailed accounts of the mystical and possibly fabricated world surrounding the author. “And now…” She lifted the book, tenderly bringing it to her chest. “It’s mine, mine, mine, mine, mi-”
“Sapienta!”
Krystal jumped from her seat. The book slipped from her clutch, Krystal fiddling with the artifact midair. Getting it back into a comfortable position, she rested it by the white phone on the cypress table. She glanced to her boss, tugging at her white floral skirt to keep distracted. “Yes sir?” The woman was a little uncomfortable under her boss’s jurisdiction but she never let it show.
The thick balding man tapped an impatient foot. “I thought you said that book was for an important patron…” He crossed his arms, waiting for an explanation.
Throwing a file over the leather book, Krystal nodded. “It…well…I…” Lowering her head, she blushed. The pink tinge staining her cheeks was a little hard to make out considering her light cinnamon complexion, but her face heated up nonetheless. Krystal cringed, grinning embarrassed. “Forgive me but I’d already read everything in the library and I stumbled upon this from the Roman library catalogue and I couldn’t resist placing an order…” She drifted off, her boss narrowing his eyes.
Brushing away her excuse, he sighed. “I had a feeling the order was for you, few would order something along those lines. Not the reason why I interrupted you though…” He noted her inquisitive brow. He handed her a small black briefcase, cocking his own brow. “You started lunch break ten minutes ago, I’m figuring they’re worrying about your wellbeing at Starbucks.”
“Ha ha,” Krystal smirked in good spirits from her boss’s sarcasm. She picked up the sleek black briefcase, throwing an ‘I’ll be back’ over her shoulder as she raced through the narrow pathways of Venice. Thankful she wouldn’t have to take a gondola ride, the coffee shop just around the corner; she waltzed inside, rich aroma of brewing coffee bringing on an extraordinary content.
Krystal ordered her usual Chantico, taking a window seat in the surprisingly empty Starbucks. She took a short sip of the melted dark chocolate, letting the thick warm liquid lather her taste buds. Reluctantly, she set the cup down, unzipping the briefcase by her feet. She pulled out her laptop, connecting it with the port inside the coffee shop. Doing her daily work, she searched a few websites, tilting her head bemused at an email notification. Urgent...curious… She logged into her hotmail account, Krystal snorting skeptically into her cup at the name of the sender. In doubt, she opened it up, expecting a good laugh as she raised her cup to her lips.
Reading the content of the email, what Krystal received was a shock, a numbing of her hands, and the rest of her Chantico down the front of her baby pink shirt and into her lap…
>>Fast Forward Several Hours>>
Krystal had wandered about Vatican city in somewhat of an awe, part of her wondering if she was still dreaming. She had exchanged her hot chocolate covered clothes for a plain denim skirt, her upper attire consisting of a black and gold off the shoulder top. Combined with the pink marble rosary around her neck, it made for an exquisite, yet not too flashy look.
Called upon the third time…you shouldn’t be so nervous… Krystal stopped strolling, pausing in the designated meeting area ie the courtyard. Her hair still in a high ponytail, she tossed it over her shoulder anxiously, greenish grey eyes scrutinizing the area. She toyed with her rosary, a coy smile in place. But you’ve never been called to Vatican city…this…might be serious. Catching the sound of footsteps behind her, she pivoted in her booted step, throwing a warm smile to the approaching Cardinal Xiang, Aimana promenading behind him. She bowed her head briefly in respect, afternoon light intensifying the multiple hues composing her eyes. Here I go..
Exhaling, Krystal said. “Good afternoon, I’m Miss Krystal Sapienta. Enchante…” She finished her introduction in French, the one word a nice time saver. She shrugged, going into her questions. “If I may ask, why exactly have I been brought here…?” The woman murmured, unable to shake the strangest sensation, the oddest wave of energy felt in the courtyard. It had been less than a second, a mere blip on the radar, but enough. She found her gaze falling to her feet…no, to the ground. Remembering her position, Krystal raised her head, a questioning smile gracing her features. “Is…there…something below here?” Her question more to herself than the others, thinking it foolish, she pushed it into the back of her mind, wondering what the full circumstances could be…
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Archangel
Ice Breaker
And thus did the Archangel descend from Heaven itself...
Posts: 478
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Post by Archangel on Oct 11, 2005 22:17:42 GMT -6
Aimaina bowed to Miss Sapienta as she reached out to shake the Cardinal's hand, a low bow that acknowledged her position and expressed his delight in meeting her. She would be one of those in his little group, he knew that now, and so it would be good to be on excellent terms with her. As she spoke, though, his eyes widened considerably, and when she looked down at the ground, so did he, a bit bewildered. That had felt like...well, it couldn't have been what it felt like, could it? Then again, this was Holy Ground, and God's Power was practically palpable here. It could have been what he thought it was... "Excuse me, Cardinal Xiang, shouldn't we...?" He managed to ask, but not before the Cardinal cut him off. "Yes, of course Aimaina. Down to the catacombs! Miss Sapienta, this is Hikari Aimaina, priest and dan. Now, we must be off! I'll explain as we go." The normally calm and placid Cardinal was now a bit upset, perturbed at what was happening down below, and certain that the others felt it. Moving swiftly, he led the pair of them into a building by the edge of the courtyard, and then down and down and down, into the depths of the basements of the building, down to where the catacombs began. And as he walked, he spoke. He told Krystal everything he had told Aimaina, about the legend of the Dark Angel and the current predicament. He didn't expect her to believe him right away, but he knew that he needed her help, and forthright honesty would be the best policy. As the moved, Aimaina considered deeply for the time being. What he had felt...that could have been what he had twice felt before, once on himself and once on another. It had been an outburst of Holy power, something much stronger than what he was accustomed to, and definitely a lot more mysterious in origin. He tried not to remember it, the time he had felt that feeling before...the time of the exorcism of Kai Wang Li. But his memory jumped, a flash as he walked behind Cardinal Xiang, and everything came back to him. *** It was dark, and the lights were on in the house. Father Aimaina stood, wearing his priestly vestments, and holding a Bible in his hand. In his other hand was a golden cross, treated with holy water and firmly enchanted with strong runes. He spoke the words in Latin, the phrases of the exorcism, and as he spoke, a fine sheen of sweat covered him.
There was a girl in front of him. She was strapped to a chair with leather and ropes, and she writhed and pulled against her bindings. Her eyes were rolled back in her head, every vein stood out in her face, and she was barely breathing. She strained, hard, against the bindings, and growled deep in her throat. Her skin had taken on a darkish hue, one that was as forboding as it was malevolent. But the priest went on, continuing with the exorcism, and watching her intently. He had done dozens of these, maybe even a hundred, but never one when the person was so gripped by the evil. He could feel it in his bones, that this woman was in the depths of a demonic embrace, and only the most glorious of Godly power would get her out again.
He spoke the final words in Latin, concluding his prayer with the words "Et nomine Padre, et Fili, spiritus sancti. Amen." And then, putting down the Bible, he took out his holy water and splashed it onto her. The woman cringed, not in fear but in loathing, and hissed venomously at the touch of the holiness on her flesh. Her skin grew a darker shade of yellow, almost black now, and Aimaina watched carefully, perspiration dotting his forehead. Would the prayers work? Would she be relieved of this demon?
Suddenly, to his astonishment, she looked up at him. A voice spoke from her mouth, but there was nothing feminine about it, and nothing human either. It was deep, guttural, and exceedingly cruel.
"Would you cast me out, Father Weakling? Would you see me back in Hell, where I belong? Well...not now, not today, never again!"
With the final word, the girl opened her mouth, and from it came a black cloud, unlike anything Aimaina had ever seen. It coalesced in a mere second, and the form it took was too hideous for the priest to ever describe. But he could see it had arms, and legs, and a mouth, and much much more. The creature, a demon from the blackest Pits of Hell, lunged forward, a claw aiming for Aimaina's throat.
But Aimaina was not unprepared. Ever since he learned the arts of self defense, he could never be unprepared. As the thing struck, the priest stepped back fluidly, dropping the holy water and the cross. Catching the creature's wrist, or what passed for a wrist, he turned, danced with the thing, and, before it could recover its footing, he threw it backwards. It tumbled end over end before hitting the floor with a solid thump. But it quickly got up, lunging towards Aimaina again.
The priest began to use his moves, every move he had ever learned coming to mind as he fought this vicious beast. Backwards, forwards, sidestepping and throwing, he locked the thing in numerous joint locks, slammed it a dozen times onto the ground, and hit it innumerable times. The thing just would not stay down. And as he fought the creature, he prayed to God, prayed that he could be given the power to defeat this thing, prayed that it would stay down. Suddenly, in his mind's eye, he saw a hand outstretched, palm upward, as if offering him something. He took it, whatever it was. And the next time he touched the creature, it roared in pain, and white light stole over its entire figure. Collapsing in a ruin of white light so bright it hurt Aimaina's eyes, the creature roared and roared, and then, suddenly, it was over...*** Snapped out of his reverie, Aimaina looked ahead. "We're here," came Cardinal Xiang's voice. And the priest and the woman looked ahead, their eyes widening a bit at the sight. A woman lay on the ground ahead of them, seemingly blown back by whatever power there was. And a man, a powerful-looking man, stood facing a solid door, words on the edge of his lips. The door itself was remarkable. A solid steel vault door, it was engraved with seals and archaic writing, such seals of God and words of such intense power that Aimaina could not begin to describe them. He had only seen seals like this once before, in a Church book from the Middle Ages, but it seemed amazingly real now that he saw them in front of him. And he could feel the power pulsing in the door, the power that he had felt that night in his mind when he fought the creature. The power of God. He sighed, and looked at the Cardinal. "What is going on here?" began that most respected man, his voice stern and unsurprised.
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