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Rise and Fall [M-LVS]


Onix
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[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1]In the sweltering heat of the mid-July afternoon, the soft crunch of gravel filled the air as a battered old car with "Police" painted on the side sputtered to a stop, the backfire ringing out like a gunshot. With a rusty scream, the two doors swung open, and the two police officers stepped out, one spitting a wad of tobacco onto the rocky sand. The dark-skinned driver adjusted his sunglasses and his gun in its holster, and the two leisurely walked into the barren city of Bethlehem, New Mexico.

There were no cars in the street, no people on the porches. Most of the buildings seemed dead and empty in this tiny little town. But they knew exactly where they were headed, anyway. There was a single business that required their attention, a den of drugs, prostitution, and conspicuous disappearances. The tallest structure in the city, with a flickering neon sign that read "the Leather Angel."

Without any opposition, the cops made their way down the dusty street, eventually coming to a stop in front of the club. They could feel the heavy bass radiating through the ground, and the loud cheers and jeers of the patrons inside. With a quick signal, the two officers kicked open the doors in tandem, raising their guns in the air.

[B]"This is a raid!"[/B] yelled the driver. [B]"Everybody stay where they are, unless you want a bullet in your ***."[/B]

The music came to a stop, the band and every other person in the club looking over slowly. There was a cool disinterest in their faces, and a complete lack of fear of surprise. A bead of sweat ran down the other cop's forehead, and he worried his lip with his teeth before barking out roughly, [B]"Everybody up against the wall!"[/B]

The patrons rose slowly, but they didn't start moving towards the walls. They were advancing, in a smooth, predatory fashion that made the hairs start raising on the back of his neck. His partner looked just as perturbed, his eyes locked on those of one of the band member's, which seemed to glow an unearthly red. And before they even realized what had happened, the two cops were a foot forward from the doorway, the entrance slamming shut suddenly behind them.

[B]"Sonuva..."[/B] the passenger snarled under his breath. He whirled to see who had shut the door, and in that instant, the crowd broke, a red eyed man lunging forward and wrapping his arms around the cop's chest before sinking his teeth into his neck. The cop let out a high scream and the sound of his gun firing rang out, but no one was shot.

The driver turned and raised his gun, planting a bullet in the assailants stomach. This didn't seem to stop is at it turned to leer at him, eyes radiating with hellfire, and a pair of coal-black wings sprouting from its back. His eyes opened wide, face distorted by terror, and he staggered back, gun falling to the ground heavily.

[I][B]"El diablo...es el diablo!"[/B][/I] he screamed, repeating the world over and over again as the mob moved forward, eyes glittering with unearthly light in red, blue, gold, and green. They sprouted wings and fangs, claws and horns, demonic entities prepared to tear him apart as he crawled further back when his legs gave way, voice rising an octave to scream, [I][B]"Ayudame! Ayudame!"[/B][/I]

Back on the stage, the band started playing again, and the strippers kept strutting.

[SIZE=2][CENTER]Rise and Fall[/CENTER][/SIZE]

There is a town in the Southern USA called Bethlehem, New Mexico, and it is a town of the damned. Not a single human spends more than a day in Bethlehem, always ending up chased out or killed. Because Bethlehem plays host to a certain clientel that wants to stay as far away from being known about as possible. It's a place of runaways, turncoats, and criminals-in-hiding. From what? Heaven and Hell.

The Fallen Angels, seeking escape from the rules and rigors of Heaven's army.

The Risen Demons, unsatisfied with torture and eternal flame.

The Leather Angel is the hub for these Fallen and Risen, a place to unwind, to hide, to find companionship or just drink it all away. The Prince of lust and sloth, Belial, is the owner and operator of the establishment, and his [I]primo[/I] entertainer is the Leather Angel herself, Raphael, the Beauty of God. The duo are revered as the King and Queen of Bethlehem, saviors of a group that desperately needs salvation.

If only they truly knew what they were in for.

The Warriors of Heaven and the Princes of Hell are not as blind as the people of Bethlehem seem to think.

Lucifer, lord of the pit, has long thought the den of sin a wonderful thing - but as more of his demons leave the ranks to serve under Belial's control, his legendary ire awakes again, and the Prince of Lies, will not stand for such a thing to happen. His armies are ready to strike out this rebellious blight upon the earth, if they do not return to his kingdom.

Meanwhile, the Angel of War, Michael, is just as enraged by his traitorous brethren. With the stain of sinful angels upon the world, he cannot just stand by and let them carry on. To rid this scourge from the earth, he is determined to slay each and every member of the Fallen if they do not repent. Those who disobay the word of the Lord shall meet their end, just like the filth of Sodom and Gomorrha.

Oblivion is about to strike Bethlehem, and the Risen and Fallen will have to fight tooth and nail for their very survival against the agents of their ultimate destruction.

[CENTER]*****[/CENTER]

That is the story of Rise and Fall, in a nutshell. Required for it are, of course, the Risen and Fallen, as well as the agents of Hell and Heaven.

Sign-Up Sheet

[B]Name:[/B] They're Angels and Demons, so keep that in mind when picking names. This is a Judaic/Christian style mythos, so I don't want to see Japanese character names. Samael, not Sakura, got it?
[B]Gender:[/B] Yes, angels and demons are generally genderless. But are they predominantly masculine, or femenine?
[B]Side:[/B] Are they the Risen/Fallen? Angels from Heaven? Demons from Hell?
[B]Appearance:[/B] Pictures or a decent written description.
[B]Fighting Style:[/B] How do they handle themselves in a scrap? What kind of techniques do they usually pull out? What's their weapon of choice?
[B]Personality:[/B] How do they act? It's pretty basic stuff.
[B]Writing Sample:[/B] Because it's awfully hard to write a bio for an immortal, ancient being, just give me a couple paragraphs from your characters point of view.

That's about it for now. I'll be posting my sign-up for Belial later, and the character of Raphael is reserved. Three guesses for who, and the first two don't count.[/SIZE][/COLOR]
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[center][size=1][b]Name: [/b]Abaddon (meaning "Destroyer" in Hebrew)

[b]Gender: [/b]Appears male

[b]Side: [/b]Risen

[b]Appearance: [/b]Abaddon appears to be a perfectly healthy male in his mid-twenties. His skin is pale, but not in a pallid, unhealthy way, his black hair is full and thick, falling just down into his eyes, and his dark eyes gleam like dying embers, but he often covers them with dark glasses. His favoured clothing is a stylish black suit, with a white shirt underneath, but no tie, not unless he's doing something particularly special. His feet are clad in shiny, pointed black shoes. But he can also, at will, sprout a huge pair of glossy black wings from his back, but whenever he does this, his hair turns bright red, and his hands turn into talon-like claws.

[b]Fighting Style: [/b]Abaddon is a cool, calm fighter, never letting his emotions show in a battle, making it harder for his opponent to foresee his attacks. Dodges and ducks are dominant in his fighting style, and he uses punches and kicks to great effect. But, when the going gets tough, he draws a short sword [[url="http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b16/Blayze54/g2_0262b.jpg"][b]click[/b][/url]] , which he is especially skilled in the use of.

[b]Personality: [/b]Abaddon is known as the cool, calm one, always sitting back, never getting too involved with anyone. He is usually found sitting quietly at the bar of the Leather Angel with a glass in his hand, and a tiny smile on his face. Very rarely do you see him getting angry, and when he does, not many are left to see what happens afterwards.

[b]Writing Sample: [/b]Abaddon had taken his usual vantage point, a high chair right at the bar. This way, he could keep himself to himself, and keep the drinks flowing all night. A glass stood, full to the brim with acrid-smelling liquor, on the bar in front of him.

Behind, a glass was broken, angry words were exchanged, and a fight broke out. Someone was getting angry again. Leviathan had seen someone with a new girlfriend, clearly. Envy did funny things to people.

A chair was hurled towards the bar, but Abaddon kept his head down, staring intently into his glass. He pushed his dark glasses back up his nose, and flicked his hair over them. By this time, Leviathan had slammed his opponent against the bar, and had drawn his fist back. A brutal beating followed, fists and feet flying, smashing into soft flesh and bone alike. Blood ran from the bar.

A young waitress came running down from the stage. She grabbed the two fighting customers, and hauled them apart. Abaddon guessed she was giving them [i]quite [/i]the telling off.

Words were exchanged, and the waitress dragged the two demons to the door, kicked it open, and hurled them out. Fighting had its place in the Leather Angel, but it was never taken lightly by a certain member of staff.

Abaddon threw back the glass of liquor, having let it stay for long enough, then got to his feet, threw his coat on, and said simply to the barhand:

[b]"Check, please."[/b]
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[color=AFF4292][size=1][b]Name.:[/b] Baal. Also called Bael, or Ba'al. Baal means 'Lord' or 'Master'.

[b]Gender.:[/b] Masculine.

[b]Side.:[/b] Agent of Hell.

[b]Apperance.:[/b] [url=http://img86.imageshack.us/img86/9268/abelnightroad51kq.jpg][Click here.][/url] The wings may look small and scrawny, but they are quite strong, and most often, a weapon.

[b]Fighting Style.:[/b] Baal is a grandiose fighter. Quick, agile, and graceful, he flows like quicksilver from a cleaving blow to a mortal strike. For such a slender build, he uses a slender blade. A fan of the katana of the japanese make, Baal has found a way to incorperate new techniques he developed over his countless years in hell to the form. The strange design of this [url=http://www.moviereporter.net/fotos/final_fantasy_vii_advent_children/Final%20Fantasy38.jpg]blade[/url] allows for a quick and seamless attack and parry, with quick and deadly counterattacks. Baal affectionatley calls his blade Schtiel, which means calm in German. Not only a fan of the blade, Baal has studied many forms of hand to hand fighting and Chinese footwork.

Another animal in his bag of tricks is his mastery over the power of Wind and Fire. Sometimes using it alone as separate elements, or twisting them into different types of attacks. No one really knows the extent at which he can combine these elements, but Baal himself. However, using these skills drains his stamina, varying on the power and potency of the attack.

[b]Personality.:[/b] Baal is, quite contrary, a kind fiend. He has a charming, charismatic and irresistible personality and stare. He's like a serpent, if you look him in the eyes for just a split second, you'll be lost in [i]his[/i] world. He's sweet, cute, funny, handsome, but won't hesitate to screw you over to further his own means. Baal is a unique demon, almost two personalities made one. He has sympathy for the humans and angels, and yet he loves to see them fail and rise again. It's almost like an opera to him.

One of the things Baal loves is music. This is a rather odd fascination, but it's a welcomed one. Loud music is always coming from his dwellings and none seem to be bothered by it. Probably because they knew that Baal would tear their head off.

[b]Writing Sample.:[/b] The soft [i]clink clink clink![/i] of shoes on metal carried their way down the hall, resonating off the aluminum walls. Outside, dust billowed around the streets of Bethlehem, striking the faces of anyone on the sidewalk, in the middle of the roas. Baal wasn't in the mood to damage his precious features, or his glasses. The cross around his neck glinted in the sunlight.. A pair of battle-scarred wings stretched themselves-forcefully and painfully-from his back, and wrapping around his body as he stepped outside. Small bits of glass, metal, stone and sand struck the wings, until Baal sighed and drew a small box around himself, the wind quickly rushing to create a barrier against the elements. There it was, a flashing, toxic neon sign that read [b][i]"The Leather Angel[/i][/b].

Two of the bouncers saw leathery wings, and how the wind conformed around him, and shrugged. They stepped aside, allowing him access. Immediately, sound and sight were both pleased upon entrance-[i]Please, leave all overcoats, canes, and tophats with the doorman / From this moment on you'll be out of place and underdressed[/i]-as the music roared out of the speakers and the dancers gyrated their bodies in ways that would make a normal man frothe at the mouth. Angels and demons were almost always beautiful, but Baal seemed to stand out with flame-white hair and a soft, enjoyable smile. He walked up to the bartender and sat down.

[b]"Shot of vodka."[/b] His voice was like silk, smooth and confident. Light glinted off of Baal's glasses, making his eyes shine a deathly silver. The bartender's face was laced with a shined, predominant scar that demanded attention to his eye. He glanced Baal up and down with the eye that still did work and soon put the shot glass up. Baal downed it quickly before calmly drawing his blade and slitting the bartender's throat. The dancers stopped, silence encroached. Baal stood up, jumped behind the counter, picked up the corpse and threw it on the ground.

[b]"I'm wrecking this evening already, and I'm lovin' every minute of it."[/b] He grinned again before seeing a beautiful, stunning angel with flaming hair and equally flaming lips. [i]Oh, Raphael comes out to play. And...Belial.[/i] Baal poured himself another shot of vodka and downed it, shattering the glass in his fingertips when he was done. He looked at the pair, making their way through the mildy surprised crowd. Soon Baal and Belial stood face to face. Baal extended one hand and Belial shook it lightly.

[b]"Bartender up and died on me. You probably don't remember, but my name's Baal, Bel."[/b] That serpent tounge had small effect on Belial.

[b]"I remember well enough, friend. What brings you here to my...establishment?"[/b]

[b]"Seems that the head man up at Hell ain't too happy with all the demons flockin' to join yer ranks. He loves the place itself, don't get me wrong. So he sent me here to..aah...thin out the ranks with negotiation or bloodshed."[/b]

[b]"I see. Unfortunate. You'd make a fine addition here, Baal..."[/b]

[b]"Sorry, Bel. I'm only here 'cuz I don't wanna be placed on Luci's headhunting list. You understand, right?"[/b]

[b]"Of course."[/b].[/color][/size]
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[COLOR=DarkGreen][SIZE=1][B]Name: [/B]Azathoth

[B]Gender:[/B] Masculine
[B]
Side:[/B] Risen

[B]Appearance:[/B] [url=http://i16.photobucket.com/albums/b18/Sagethefiend/guys168.jpg] Azathoths [/URL] eyes have a distinct color to them, the yellow glow of cat eyes.
[B]
Fighting Style:[/B] Azathoth is a conservative fighter, only fighting when it is required of him. He doesn?t try to talk his way out of things but lets others fight. But when he is forced to fight he likes to use his hands in swift, deadly movements. He likes to use an ancient, Chinese technique called Dim Mok, it is a fighting style based around quick and sharp hand movements to hit vital point that will knock the opponent unconscious and kill them.

Hitting certain points causes the heart to speed up rapidly causing the person to experience a heart attack, and if he cannot use his Dim Mok, he will resort to his Katana in the pic and use the infamous technique of Bushido. Both techniques require he be agile, flexible, powerful and acrobatic to perform his attacks gracefully and effortlessly.

[B]Personality:[/B] Azathoth is a very reserved demon; he keeps to himself and observes what is going on around him. He lets others fight and make the decisions that are need to be made. Azathoth is cool, clam, calculating, patient and can sometimes be sadistic if he is allowed the opportunity. He follows orders with no questions asked.

He prefers to be alone when doing anything, hunting for the prey he was assigned to or even when it comes to eating. He likes it better when he doesn?t have to rely only another to get the job done. He only speaks when he is spoken to or asked his opinion; otherwise, he?s silent enough to a point where sometimes they forget he is there.
[B]
Writing Sample:[/B]Azathoth sat at the bar, a glass filled with whiskey, Jack Daniels of course, and a cigerette in between his fingers. Burning ever so slowly, he had seen the two cops come into the club. Trying to threaten them with their mortal weapons, he watched closely as they were toren apart and watched as their skin was peeled off and eaten by some Risen demons.

He shook his head and took a sip of his drink. He moved the glass to the other hand so he could take a drag of his cigerette. He shooked his head slowly as the corpse of the police vanished.
[B]
"Stupid mortals. Never know when to run."[/B] Azathoth said to himself as he watched the strippers perform their trick of the trade. He half-rotated in his seat to look at the band, their music blaring from the speakers that were placed around the club.

He watched as the Risen demons and the Fallen angels all bouncing about the floor, mosh pits in the middle. He lifted his drink to his lips and took a long gulp. He then took another drag and snuffed it out in his drink. He placed the drink on the bar to his side and continued to watch.
[I]
'This could turn out to be something very interesting.'[/I] Azathoth though as he went back to the strippers strutting about, knowing why humans could sin so easily with these women. [/SIZE][/COLOR]
[COLOR=DarkRed]
[SIZE=1]OOC: Hope this is good ULX[/COLOR][/SIZE]
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[COLOR=Indigo][SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] Fierezza (means pride or arrogance)
[B]Gender:[/B] predominantly masculine
[B]Side:[/B] Fallen

[B]Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://i14.photobucket.com/albums/a328/Reikimaru/Odori%20Sama/BADarius.jpg]-Here-[/URL] His eyes and wings, which come and go at will, are a very pale sky blue and he has silvery hair and alabaster skin stretched over a thin but toned body structure. His bangs are long while the rest comes just below his shoulders except for a thin ponytail that goes from the base of his neck to a few inches below the knee. Fierezza wears a large, light blue sash tied around his waist that he often may use as a small blanket or shawl and the band around his eyes is white as are his pants. Around his neck is an odd star shaped necklace that has a dark blue glow to it and the bands on his arms are silver.

[B]Fighting Style:[/B] When caught in a fight, Fierezza usually tries to get out of it. When forced to fight, though, he usually plays defense by dancing and bouncing around the opponent teasing them with taunts and staying just out of reach. He also tries to corner his enemy to make them go into a panic or lose their concentration when being offensive and uses quick attacks and movement, constantly trying to catch an opponent off guard. Most of Fierezza?s techniques are close combat based sword styles and martial arts though he sometimes uses an elemental ability that creates ice shards from his breath. His weapon of choice is a twin blade, a short shaft weapon with a blade at each end and splits into two swords when needed.

[B]Personality:[/B] Fierezza has a bit of an odd personality as he has mood swings a lot. Generally, though, he can be arrogant, calculating, devious, spiteful, hypocritical, proud, lustful, submissive, quiet, insane, soft-spoken, depressed, clueless, and questioning. He doesn?t really believe that one can be good or evil so to him a demon is the same thing as an angel. Most often, he sits alone in open areas or in the back of crowded rooms. Though he can be quick to anger, he tries keeping his calm with quick come backs or simply ignoring his antagonist. Fierezza?s favorite thing to do is to watch sunsets and fly out on cool or windy nights. His most hated things are people who try to tell him what to do or what is right and wrong.

[B]Writing Sample:[/B] Fierezza sat squatted on a rock, his arms hanging to the side of his legs as if useless and broken while his bare chest put pressure to his knees with each breath. Half of his eye band was raised so he could gaze out into the distance. His long silvery hair rustled as a breeze blew over him and his wings began to sprout from his back. Fierezza looked down at his hands. His nails had grown long and sharp and he frowned. Everyday since he had run away from Heaven, he was becoming more unlike himself. Though he told himself that it was only depression and would pass, he doubted it. His wings curled around his body, shielding out the last rays of the sun. He gazed at the soft feathers for a moment and peaked out at the sunset, knowing deep down that it could very well be the last he ever saw as he slipped the band back over his eyes and took off into the sky to enjoy himself in the cool air.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=1]((If anything needs to be changed, please let me know.))[/SIZE][/COLOR]
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[size=1][color=#B2566B][B]Name-[/B] Michael
[B]Gender-[/B] Masculine
[B]Side-[/B] Angel of War
[B]Appearance-[/B] [URL=http://img213.imageshack.us/img213/3414/michael2wc.jpg]Michael[/URL]

[B]Fighting Style-[/B] In his right hand is the flaming Sword of Truth and in his left is a blazing gauntlet. These two weapons are used in Michael?s charge into battle, for the only style of fighting he has come to know is of power.
[IN HIATUS]

[B]Personality-[/B] Ranked as the greatest of all Angels, Michael has a sense of power about him. He believes that Heaven is an orderly and holy place where God?s laws are law and nothing more, though he is nothing like most Angels, in fact, he is an Angel who seems to act more like a Demon than his own side. He is the Angel of War filled with violence connected to a short fuse holding a love for destruction and a love for fighting until the downfall. He is temperamental and known to have fits of rage when anyone mentions his relationship with Raphael, a friendship lost when she followed Belial, the Prince of Lies, or when they mention the large scar he bears on his face that starts from the edge of his forehead in a diagonal to his left cheekbone.

Michael believes that Heaven is an orderly and holy place where God rules, where His laws are law and nothing more, and those who defy Him must suffer the consequences and his wrath, especially those who side with the Demons.

[B]Writing Sample-[/B] Long ago, in the ages of peace, there had been order in Heaven. The meaning of a Grigori was unheard of, the name of Satan was never uttered, nor was the descent to Hell, in fact Hell was unknown of when there was peace and order in Heaven.

In those times, God had just begun His creation of mankind, helping them to move along in the right path towards righteousness, justice, and understanding. He had created His hierarchy of Angels to govern the skies and help the order on Earth; He had created the laws given to mankind to follow. He was known as the Creator and Father of Earth. Standing behind Him were the Archangels, to His left was His Son, Christ, and to his right was Lucifer, the most beloved Angel in Heaven. But soon enough, Lucifer began to become consumed by wanting power, desiring all that God possessed and more. He began to become the very thing that we all thought was impossible, he had begun to fall and in the end, he rebelled against our Father, and thus was thrown out of Heaven to the pits of Hell, along with him were other Angels who were dear to the Creator.

In the present time, we have just received news of another Grigori, a fallen angel, and a risen demon. This Angel that fell to Earth goes by the name Raphael, a creature covered in beauty from head to toe, filled with the most innermost magnificence next to Lucifer and God. She followed Belial, a high-ranking demon in Lucifer?s hierarchy. These two have made it their own to live on Earth and to turn their backs on their own. Since the downfall of Lucifer, I, Michael, have risen to the title of greatest of Angels, standing on the right of God. It is my duty to destroy those who defy Him and to bring vengeance to our laws.

[center]+ + + + +[/center]

[B]?So it?s begun.?[/B] Michael watched from the Heavens, looking down on one particular area occupied by Grigori, Demons, and Nephilim. He was disgusted but at the same time, he was saddened for among them was an Angel who was the most beautiful in all of Heaven, no one could?ve compared to her beauty except Lucifer. She was a gorgeous creature and a dear friend but she had chosen to follow Belial, the Prince of Lies, Flattery, and all that is ungodly. [B]?What will we do? What will [i]I[/i] do? I cannot bear to see you with him; it hurts to know that I must be the one who must bring swift vengeance on those who defy the Lord. It must be done, though, it must be that way.?[/B]

Filled with sorrow, Michael turned away from the scene that was gruesome and disgusting. He walked from his spot and went to congregate with the other Archangels, wondering what their thoughts were for they would be the ones who would do God?s will. But how could they? A dear friend and companion of theirs walks among the filth below, what were they to do?

[B]?There has to be another way!?[/B] The quiet and composed Archangel, Uriel, had spoken out, surprising everyone as they sat at the table set before them. [B]?There must be another way.?[/B] She was the other female amongst the seven archangels, which now became six.

All looked to each other with sorrow in their eyes, several trying to keep their composure but others wanting to break away from everything and run off. Raquel looked to her
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[color=crimson][b]Name[/b]: Minerva.

[b]Gender[/b]: Feminine.

[b]Side[/b]: Risen Warsmith.

[b]Appearance[/b]: Minerva is stuck looking somewhat younger than her peers, appearing to be in her mid teen years. Because of this she is rather unimpressive in stature in comparison to some of the behemoths that live in Bethlehem considering her height of 5'1". Her hair is a vibrant fiery-red color (matching her eyes) and hangs to her mid-back. Her skin is actually rather healthily tanned but it is covered in scars from a mix of two things- her work and the sadistic methods of punishment used in hell. She wears black, conservative-looking dresses most of the time matched with a pair of black boots.

[b]Fighting Style[/b]: Hiding in Minerva's small body is a shocking, overwhelming amount of strength and stamina. Armed with a halberd that is large than she is, her method of fighting is not artistic or stylistic at all. She prefers to use brutish strikes and blows to simply obliterate anything in her path. Psychotic in battle, Minerva cares little for self-preservation or avoiding being hit. Her psychotic method of fighting is extremely potent but she is hardly as swift/precise as Azathoth or Baal with it, usually laying waste to everything around her target while in pursuit of it.

The only elemental power she can control is fire. Indeed, the color of her hair and eyes is caused by her uncanny link to fire. Using flame seems to take very little effort on her part and she uses her abilities often in fights/everyday life.

[b]Personality[/b]: Disinterested in most of the goings on around her, Minerva has a caustic, crass approach to casual situations. She is respectful of Belial and Raphael because of the hierarchy, but most everyone else is fair game for her sarcasm. She isn't easily phased by things and is usually calm- unless there is a whiff of battle in the air. She loves a good fight and charges headlong into them without any hint of self-control, seeking the excitement of war. Her mental acumen is on par with most immortals- knowledge is in abundance among them. Her specialty is creation and maintenance of weapons, armor and trinkets for her comrades.

[b]Writing Sample[/b]: Tomes lined the walls around Minerva. She wrinkled her nose- her private library had smelt increasingly dusty recently. Granted, all the books were old, some even as old as herself. Most had seen better days and were in various stages of falling apart but the knowledge within them was what was important. She made her way over to one of the many shelves and traced her hand along the bindings, scanning for a specific title. She let out a 'ah-ha' as she came upon her target and carefully slid it from it's place. The cover had no title, only the eerie image of a fully opened eye. She took it and walked over to a nearby desk, taking a seat. Opening the book carefully, she flipped to the first page and began to read aloud.

"The Prophecies, as delivered by the Infernal Consortium." She smiled as she read the opening line of the page- this book had been one of Lucifer's most prized possessions, containing within it a record of demonic divinations given by some of his mystics. By a bad stroke of luck he had lost it some time ago.. and by a good stroke of luck it had ended up in Minerva's possession.

She began to scan through the book, looking for a specific prophecy. It had been some time since she read the book in entirety- well before she had come to Bethlehem. Honestly though it was a horrible piece of literature- boring and incessantly lengthy, bordering on being one long series of tangents. However, a recent conversation about the book had reminded her of a prophecy within it that seemed to have been speaking of Bethlehem. She couldn't recall much of the specifics though and was curious as to what it had said.

"Ah, here we are." She said to herself, arriving at the appropriate prophecy. "In regards to the CITADEL OF CHAOS, upon the realm of Mortals lead by a UNNATURAL UNION of monarchs; there will be nothing but ruination given to it by LUCIFER and their utter destruction will be swift and complete. With overpowering might, LUCIFER shall.." She stopped reading as the book continued to rant on about how the 'Citadel of Chaos' would be totally destroyed. She closed the book, stood and walked to where she had taken it. Carefully placing it back in it's place, she shook her head slowly.

"I hope that's as much ******** as I think it is."

OOC: That's the worst writing sample I've ever written. Jesus.[/color]
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[COLOR=DarkOrange][SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] Raphael
[B]Gender:[/B] Female
[B]Side:[/B] Fallen (Sauntered Vaguely Downwards? Haha.)
[B]Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://hyung-taekim.org/displayimage.php?album=21&pos=36][I]Raphael[/I][/URL]
Raphael's casual clothes consist of a long dark red dress with black trim the compliments her figure nicely without revealing anything. She wears thick black boots that lace up to her knees, and fishnet stockings. When on stage, Raphael wears whatever 'flattering' outfit Belial has chosen for her.

[B]Fighting Style:[/B] Raphael is a woman with a temper and a short attention span and, as such, has never truly mastered any refined form of fighting, nor does she know how to handle any fancy weapons. Her fiery temper and quick fist, however, come naturally and are more than enough in a tight situation. When pushed, she can grab a simple pole or broom and wield it with such deadly accuracy; even the best have trouble dodging it. Most of the Fallen wonder how she even got into Heaven in the first place.

[B]Personality:[/B] Raphael, despite her rather 'social' occupation, is someone who prefers to keep to herself. Belial is the only one she opens up to, mostly because she considers him her saviour. He was the one who showed her the wonders of Sin, and she has never once looked back. She has a tendency to snap if someone tries to pry or asks too many private questions. When in a large group of people, she prefers to sit back and listen; chipping in only when she feels it is appropriate. Her eyes are always flickering to people's faces and show a great wealth of intelligence. She the kind of woman who won't waste her time with someone who she considers below her, and touching is most certainly not allowed.

[B]Writing Sample:[/B] Raphael stepped through black curtain into the large changing room backstage; sweat still glistening on her pale skin. It was hot out there tonight, and a few of her girls were already suffering. That's what they were, the other angels and demons, her girls. She looked after them, trying to console them if they thought they'd made the wrong choice. She was not an open person, but she could never ignore a sobbing girl who knew she could never turn back now. There was still some angel left in Raphael, after all, and Belial (despite his best intensions) could never turn her heart into that of a demons.

Flicking some red hair from her face, Raphael crossed to a chair and slumped down. She was done for the night, now, and had no intension what so ever of going out there again. [B]"Girls," [/B] she muttered, rolling her head to ease the tension in her neck, [B]"I want you to take it slow out there, it's too hot for dancing tonight."[/B]

[B]"But surely, my angel, the heat will make it better."[/B] the hot breath against her hair came so suddenly, Raphael was almost surprised. Almost.

[B]"Perhaps the heat is good for you, demon, you're used to hell."[/B]

[B]"Touché." [/B] Belial chuckled, leaning against the wall to look at Raphael as she swept her hair up into a bun, exposing her hot neck.

[B]"You shouldn?t be making them do this tonight, just serve drinks and play some loud music."[/B]

Belial shrugged and reached out to run his thumb along Raphael's bottom lip, smudging her dark lipstick down her chin. [B]"It's business, Raphael, I need to give the customers what they want."[/B][/SIZE][/COLOR]
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[COLOR=Purple][FONT=Palatino Linotype][SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] Ariel (Meaning ?Lion Of God?)

[B]Gender:[/B] Feminine

[B]Side:[/B] Agent of Heaven

[B]Appearance:[/B][URL=http://photobucket.com/albums/v111/Dark_Misstress/?action=view¤t=girls110.jpg][-Click Here-][/URL]

[B]Fighting Style:[/B]
Ariel is not physically strong and can be in trouble in hand to hand combat. She has great extremely fast and very agile. Her endurance is great. She uses weapons that tie up the opponent or can be thrown from a great distance. Even though Ariel is always at great distance Ariel?s accuracy is impeccable.

Her weapons are pin needles and fiber wire. The fiber wire is to tie up the opponent or to slice. The fiber is tied to each finger of Ariel?s hand for maximum control. She also uses the fiber wire to set certain traps. The fiber is also sometimes tied to the end of the pin needle. So when Ariel?s throws pin needles where she can pull the fiber wire to swing the opponent like a rag doll. The pin needles can be also be used to pierce the opponent.

Her most favorite trick is to use the opponent as her puppet by tying the fiber wire to each of the joints. She makes them hit themselves and there allies since she herself has no physical strength. She does this trick from a far and is mostly used. The others are when Ariel wants to be closer to the battle field.

[B]Personality:[/B]
Ariel can seem very bashful. She constantly in deep thought and talks among herself. Ariel?s only speaks to others when truly necessary other then that she reminds quite. Her words are very soft and seemed to be carried away by the wind. Her face doesn?t show much emotion or movement other then an eyebrow rise and a small grin.
[B]
Writing Sample:[/B]

[I]?Look down?they there are all of them.? [/I] Ariel told herself looking down from heaven. It seems like everyday the each angel seems to fall into Belial?s hands. Even hell seems to have trouble with Belial, so she has heard. Was it wrong? Was it right? Did it even matter from this point?

[I]?Michael says they have sinned. Each wanted to break from the rules and procedures of heaven.? [/I] Ariel thought. There was really no choice. You had to follow rules or things would fall into chaos. No one can truly escape from them they are where everywhere. Yet did heaven?s rules really bother them that much?

[I]?Heaven is heaven, yes we are limited here. Yet the do say this is paradise??[/I] Ariel sighed still talking to herself. Paradise is what heaven is called. Yet why did people want to break away from a place labeled so? Ariel knew how the fallen felt. Yet she understood that Michael words. Yes they have sinned, for feeling they must escape.

The wind picked up and Ariel shut her eyes closed taking the harsh cold wind. The wind, it was free. It had no rules but its own. It could be harsh, unforgiving and fierce. Or it could be gentle and warm breeze of comfort. She guessed the others wanted to be like the wind. Could Ariel escape among them? The wind picked up even more making Ariel hug herself for some warmth. Was the wind punishing her for thinking such thoughts?

The wind stopped and Ariel opened her eyes. She hoped for a sign to show her the right path. To listen to the words of Michael, the Angel of War. Or to listen to the words of her stressed out companions. A feather fell into Ariel?s shoulder. Ariel gently picked it up scared it fragile structure.

Ariel frowned as she twirled the feather around. It must have fallen from one of her wings. Ariel took this as a sign to follow Michael. To put the fallen angels back into heaven and under the wing of God. She promised herself not to follow the path of the fallen ones. She must keep her spirit strong or the pressure would truly crush her. Like this feather she is fragile and so where the rest. The wind was the freedom they seek. The must not follow it or it would separate the feather and destroy the feather in the end. The feather would be lost and slowly decay. If it returns or stays under that wing it will grow, prosper, and live.

?Must?bring?back?? Ariel spoke near to a whisper. She knew then that it really has begun.


Occ: Tell me if I need to change anything...[/SIZE][/FONT][/COLOR]
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[COLOR=SlateGray][SIZE=1][B]Name:[/B] Belial
[B]Gender:[/B] Masculine
[B]Side:[/B] Risen
[B]Appearance:[/B] [URL=http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y48/UnbornLordXion/bnc-kou1.jpg]Belial[/URL], being a rock musician, a strip-club owner, and a demon, has a bit of a different sense of what proper clothing entails than most. To him, shirts are often optional, while chains and jewlery are not; pants are always required to be black, whether denim or leather; if a shirt is worn, it must be tight enough to show muscles, or an open shirt that buttons up; and colors other than black, white, red, and blue are largely a myth.

[B]Fighting Style:[/B] Belial hates weapons and, generally, combat. He'd prefer to settle things reasonably, perhaps through discussion, a game of chance, or with the application of liquor and a few of his best ladies. For him, bloodshed is a trial and peace is a much better option than war. But when put to the test, he is a demon, and will not hesitate to rip someone limb from limb if they push him too far. Demon of sloth he may be, he is still a Prince of Hell.

When he does get rialed up, Belial has but a single power to call upon - the wind. With the gales at his fingertips, he can create barries, blow people away, or simply shred them with invisible blades. Versatility and minimum effort are the name of the game, and at both, he excells. However, if such mythical tactics fail to work, he is not at all adverse to pulling out a gun and blowing someone's head off. Sometimes, modernity is just better.

[B]Personality:[/B] For Belial, charisma is chief weapon in his arsenal, and he positively oozes it. A handsome smile, a witty turn of phrase, and jaunty wink, and he can get just about anyone into the palm of his hand. He is a master of the linguistic arts, and an excellent manipulator. Being a demon, he has no qualms about using people to achieve any end he sees fit, and will not hesitate to lie, cheat, or steal to get where he needs to be.

Seeing as he is a demon of lust, it is unsurprising that Belial runs a strip club, and he seems like just the kind of man who would own a business that lets him spend 24 hours a day with scantily clad beautiful men and women. Belial never lets an opportunity pass to drop an innuendo or subtle sexual hint, and is not picky when it comes to prospective partners. Though he spends most of his time, if not all, these days with his chief girl, Raphael, when she lets him, he doesn't mind a change of pace of a change of face.

Surprisingly, though, Belial knows how to channel his charisma into other dealings, and has found the human passtime of music to be most enjoyable, especially when it is founded on the premise of electric guitars, heavy base, and accompanied by gyrating strippers. He can often be found spending his down time writing new music, or strumming his guitar.

[B]Writing Sample:[/B] All around was filled with infernal heat, so familiar, but still different. It wasn't the heat of Hell, not by a long shot, and the barren, sandy desert was empty save for the distant, fuzzy shapes of squat cacti and scrub trees, and the only sound was the slow thump of foot on loose earth and the hoarse, distant screech of a vulture. This was not Hell, of that Belial was sure. That's because he had escaped.

There was nothing but the dull expanse of sand for miles around, as far as the eye could see. And being a demon, his eyes could see quite far on a good day. Today, though, was not nearly a good day for Belial. He had been banished, cursed out of Hell itself by the great Lucifer, and forced to walk the endless sands in the belief that he would not last long - that an angel would strike down the rogue demon prince, or he would simply fade away with no fires to keep him young, no life blood to sustain him.

And, without sin to keep him going, he would wither under the hard, unblinking eye of the sun.

And so he felt weak, and drained, and his skin was baking without anything to shield it from the scorching rays above except the ragged remains of his shroud. But, he would become strong again, of that he was sure. Earth was a place rife with sin, and it would not be long before he could find a place almost as good as Hell.

The Prince kept walking. There had to be something, eventually. Earth wasn't that big, and there were far too many people about for him to die in this godforsaken place. He would just keep walking, forever, until he hit road or a city or anything.

Anything, as it happens, ended up being an angel.

As he kept trudging onward, a small blurr appeared on the horizon, lying there and slowly growing as he approached it. Eventually, it turned out to be a gorgeous young redhead, glad in nothing but th gossamer white silk robes of an angel. It has taken him ages to wake her up, and she had been terrified - his blood red eyes and the stunted horns on his forehead were probably something she wasn't used to seeing.

But she had come with him, anyway, because she'd fallen from Heaven and he was the only one around to help her. Eventually, they had found a city and set up shop.

Amazing how things start, innit?[/SIZE][/COLOR]
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[COLOR=DarkSlateBlue][SIZE=1][B][U]Name[/U]:[/B] Uroborus
Other names include: Leviathan, Livyatan, Taninim, Ouroboros
[B][U]Gender[/U]:[/B] Feminine
[B][U]Side[/U]:[/B] Grand Admiral of Hell
[B][U]Appearance[/U]:[/B] see attached ? credit to artist

[B][U]Fighting Style[/U]:[/B] An ancient demon prince that has just recently been reawakened from her deep slumber, Uroborus utilizes every power and supremacy of her infinite existence. As the demon of chaos, envy, and disorder, Uroborus?s powers are extremely destructive, rivaling those of both Satan and Michael. Uroborus is the absolute mistress/master of water, liquid, and the aquatic; and overrules all other beings that might have any hold over her element. She uses the monstrous force and energy of her aquatic element to destroy those that dare to stand in her presence, but is also very aware on how to use her powers in subtle and delicate methods. Her blue eyes encompass the carnality of man, and she is the one who is said to tempt men into committing sacrilege.

Infamous for her [I]?Eyelids of the Morning,?[/I] it is said that those who are gazed upon by this special curse from her eyes are wiped entirely from existence, going to neither Heaven nor Hell, but disappearing entirely from being altogether. Rumors abound as to whether this is true or not ? some say that the soul of the victim is consumed for eternity, trapped in the circle of her eyes; others say that the unlucky chosen is trapped within an eternal sphere of torture. Whatever the truth is, it is certain that the suffering is unimaginable and excruciating; and definitely none have the gall to ask her.

Another special feature of Uroborus is her skin. While still attached to her body, Uroborus?s skin looks next to normal. However, it is one of her chief defenses, although it is a mystery as to why. Still, it is said that her skin is one of the most beautiful things in existence, but the beauty is only visible to the naked eye when it has been flayed off of her back, and that is definitely not something that anyone has done yet. It is not known if that is even possible?

[B][U]Personality[/U]:[/B] Although her origins are unknown even to the Prince of Lies, it is said that Leviathan was the preexisting forces of chaos, an enemy of order in Creation, and that God destroyed Leviathan in order to shape Earth to His liking. Whether or not Leviathan was really destroyed is unknown (as Uroborus still exists). The name ?Leviathan? often encompasses two beings: that of a prominently masculine being, and that of a dominantly feminine being. However, time and human religion has mixed both into one, and made their own myths/beliefs of the being/beings known as Leviathan.

[I]And that day will two monsters be parted, one monster, a female named Leviathan in order to dwell in the abyss of the ocean over the fountains of water; and (the other), a male called Behemoth, which holds his chest in an invisible desert whose name is Dundayin, east of the garden of Eden[/I]. - 1 Enoch 60:7-8

Genesis 1:21: [I]God created the [B]great sea monsters - Taninim.[/B][/I]
?According to legend this refers to the Leviathan and its mate. God created a male and female Leviathan, then killed the female and salted it for the righteous, for if the Leviathans were to procreate the world could not stand before them.?

Leviathan was predominantly the feminine counterpart from the beginning, but in religion became masculine as according to patriarchal human society. The masculine Leviathan, who has been the active demon up until this point, has become part of the Risen, and has joined the court of Belial and Raphael in Bethlehem. The Prince of Lies, fed up as He is with the behavior of his demons, has now called upon the feminine Leviathan to bring back or wipe out the deserters, and has awakened her from her slumber.

Being the third of the Four Crown Princes, and the Grand Admiral of the maritime regions of Hell, Uroborus (as she has deemed to be called for this period of time) is definitely not a force that any would even consider reckoning with. Age and existence being infinite for her, Uroborus has timeless wisdom, intelligence, and experience, and is in connection with all elements of the Earth. However, being of the ageless subsistence, Uroborus gets bored quite easily, and so can also be easily aggravated or annoyed. She is impatient with those who are unintelligent, ignorant, or invite her irritation. Because she so rarely finds things that are new or foreign to her, Uroborus thoroughly enjoys being interested or puzzled, and so discoveries are very precious to her? Thus, even with orders, she will not carry out the destruction of Bethlehem until she has explored every nuance of this uproar. In this way, she has a very childlike delight in new things, and a pure enjoyment of discovery and learning.

Very secure in her power and ability, as none have been able to challenge her on equal ground for eternity, Uroborus is never threatened by anything (except perhaps by God himself), and has yet to know fear. Despite her being a demon of Hell, Uroborus also retains aspects of self-reflexivity, cyclicality, and eternal return. This gives her somewhat of a dual nature, and many do not know what to think of her; she herself is very unassuming.

In this current position in time, most immortal beings do not know the recently awakened Uroborus, as for eons only the dominantly male Leviathan has been active (and who is now infamous for joining the ranks of the Risen). She is a stranger to most demons and angels, and many will not know her for what she truly is?which really should make things interesting. As for her current task, Uroborus is slightly bemused, and somewhat intrigued by Bethlehem, as well as its current inhabitants.

[B][U]Writing Sample[/U]:[/B]
?[I] ?Taninim?[/I] Mistress, He calls for you? Mistress??

She was slow to rise from her slumber, and a hazy glow slowly infiltrated her ?vision? as she regained consciousness and solidity. This was irritating ? why in the world was this little imp disturbing her?

Before she fully took on her form, she turned to the trembling imp, <[I]What is it? Why do you dare to trouble me in my sleep?[/I]>

The imp cowered even more; in Hell, even [I]her[/I] voice and thoughts oozed power, and it coated the minion with her annoyance. ?[I]Please, forgive me, but the Prince of Lies asks for the Grand Admiral.[/I]?

<[I]What about Leviathan? Isn?t he already awake?[/I]> There was a pause as the imp considered his answer, and then her voice whipped out as she fully gained form, [B]?Answer me!?[/B] She was irked at being woken, and her mood had not yet composed itself; her words nearly tore off the imp?s ears.

It only bowed deeper, knowing that death was certain if it should cry out in pain, ?[I]Forgive me, Mistress. Leviathan has joined the ranks of the Risen on Earth, and [B]He[/B] asks for your aid.[/I]?

[B] ??So?this is what the deeps have been twittering about in my dreams?no wonder I was restless in my sleep. Fine, let us go to the Prince of Lies.?[/B] She followed the imp through the fiery depths; Hell had changed little over the ages that she had slept ? only the demons changed, cycling through the lakes of fire. Even now, there were none that she recognized, and none of them would have paid her any attention?except that each of her steps sent a new river of lava flowing into the already numerous pools of molten rock.

?[I]How shall I announce you, Mistress?[/I]?

She thought for a moment, and then said, [B]?Uroborus.?[/B] Her body shaped itself around this name, and her physical form stopped metamorphosis, resting now in the body she had chosen.

The imp opened the shadowy onyx doors, each a steeple of midnight crevices, an eternity of pain mirrored in their sharp surfaces, ?[I]I present Third Prince [B]Uroborus[/B]; Grand Admiral of the legions of Hell; Sovereign of Chaos, Envy, and Disorder; Lord of Water; and Lady of Eternal Return.[/I]?

[B][I]She[/I] had awakened.[/B]
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I'm interested, but I'm an procrastinator. ^^;

Name: Velaxis

Gender: Feminine

Side: Risen

Appearance: [URL=http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c318/Inque_me/Redchick.jpg ][COLOR=DarkOrange](Human)[/COLOR][/URL] [URL=http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c318/Inque_me/Bastetsword.gif][COLOR=DarkOrange](2nd change, most favored fight form)[/COLOR][/URL]

Fighting Style: Velaxis is a being of grace and skill, wielding her sword with precision and elegance. She is a cat demon, and it shows in the way she moves. Velaxis is able to transform through the [URL=http://i30.photobucket.com/albums/c318/Inque_me/Bastetchange.gif][COLOR=DarkOrange]five stages [/COLOR] [/URL] of her changeling heritage, using the most suited to complete her goals. This is her only ability, and that suits her just fine.

Personality: Velaxis is an alluring being, prone to sexual escapades ending in bloodbaths. She is spiteful, cruel, and savage, looking down upon other creatures as stupid, slow and cowardly. It takes great acts to impress this cat, and once done, Velaxis will be loyal to whoever completes her task. She is a fierce enemy, but an even greater ally. Her natural curiosity causes her to pay great attention to detail and store it away for future use. The sharp mind she possesses is her greatest asset... After looks, of course.


Writing Sample:

Velaxis sauntered through the smoke and laughter, caressing the shadowed forms of the sinners. She wore her human form tonight, seductive in a black skin tight dress. Velaxis ran her fingertips over the silk, pleased with the way it clung to her curves. It was a good find.

An attractive fallen smoking a black clove ciggerette cut in front of her and stopped, facing the other direction. Velaxis frowned, miffed at the intrusion of her stroll. Out reached a delicate ivory hand, tipped in daintily painted black nails. Upon reaching the offending shoulder, black claws pushed out from under the nails, biting into cloth and skin. Velaxis whipped the blonde around, snatching the clove from her lips. She unhooked her claws from the shirt and licked the blood slowly from them. Velaxis took a drag from the clove and wrapped a hand behind the fallens neck. Leaning in, she pressed her lips to the ex-angels, shotguning her the thick, flavored smoke, with just a hint of her own blood. Standing back, Velaxis smiled, her cat eyes flashing in the dim light.

"There... That wasen't so bad... Now was it." She leaned in once more, licking her lips. "Keep out of my way, or I may just take closer notice of you, my little mouse." She laughed cruely and took another drag of the clove, dissapearing into the crowd, the wisps of heavy smoke trailing after her before blending into the rest of the cloud.
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  • 1 month later...
[b][font=Tahoma][size=1][color=#708090][size=1][color=#708090][b]Name:[/b] prowler[/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#708090][b]Gender:[/b] masculine
[b]Side:[/b] Fallen
[b]Appearance:[/b] short black hair green eyes 5'11 135lbs.he is always waring a black cloak he has large feathery black wings
[b]Fighting Style:[/b] he usualy kills using his syth or his semi auto pistol[/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#708090][b]Personality:[/b] even though prowler is imortal he usaualy acts imature and outgoing [/color][/size]
[size=1][color=#708090][b]Writing Sample:[/b] prowler was met in the street by an angel how strange for thing angel was not one of the fallen he walked up to the angel and asked "what are you doing here?" the angel told prowler that michael awaited the fallen out side of the city so he followed the angel out to michael and asked what do you want?[/color][/size][/QUOTE
[/color][/size][/font][/b]
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