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Baptized in fire


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Michael Arch

The Angel then laughed aloud now, shaking his head as he flicked the cigarette towards the now dead body of what was thought to be one of the more powerful demons within Hell, and this time he actually spoke.

It has been a question asked of me since before you could ever imagine. It is also a question that God prepared me for. You may see the filth of the world, as do I, but that is not what you must see. I understand it is difficult. You must understand, it is way more than that. Among the many…abilities..that he has bestowed upon who you see before you was the one that will outshine all of the other ones like us.

Slowly Michael rose to his feet.

I will fight for righteousness, yes, but that is the ugly truth of it all. Righteousness is not and will never be seen as it is. It will always look as though we are merely conducting acts of such cruelty that these mortals look at us to be both saviors but also savages. They are right. I am nothing more than a warrior. The worst of them all.

The Archangel made his way closer to the woman, though he did keep his distance out of respect, still not knowing if she was a friend or foe, but judging on her having not attempted anything did say more than she may realize seeing as the scene before them showed the opposite on his part.

Standing a mere few feet from her, he continued.

I understand your actions. Your own survival is paramount, especially with the filth that inhabits this world.

The Angel could see some sense of wishing to stand her ground. This both slightly confused him as well as having a slight understanding. It wasn’t of who he was, but more of what he was. Sighing heavily, he shook his head once more.

I never would have thought that I would see the day when Angels would ever see their own kind as a threat. But ever since my battle with Lucifer, it was as if it all started to go down from there. Deception…hatred…animosity…all things I never wish to have entered our home.

Was it really home anymore? Not for Michael, one who was purely created for law and order within their place of peace, and yet here he was.

In this horrible world…having to do his job, or rather…his reason for existing right here on this ground. A place he was going to make rightful once again. Even if it meant without God’s help.
January 31, 2017 05:28 pm

Camille Rameau

Camille, having been more politically inclined than not, is almost all ears when Michael hops off of the stool and slowly approaches them. She is both eager and wary; the Angel before her having been nothing more than a fairytale for as long as she can remember. Like Santa. Or maybe Krampus... She's not sure yet. The girl has to physically crane her neck in order to look up at him, her meek five foot-four inch frame paling in comparison. But she stands as tall as she can, her stance solidifying as her jaw clenches. Her disposition says that she's standing her ground, and it's a message that she frequently needs to make known.

Slowly, her arm comes up to rub against the corner of her mouth, a clean patch of skin managing to wipe away a coagulated spray of blood that had begun to dry against her lip. Her head begins to shake, though it were not a denial of the words he presented to her. Instead, it's a simple indication that she couldn't digest the explanation that he was offering. She could further explain, if she were only able to find the words.

The faint sound of growling becomes more evident as Caitlyn drew closer, her teeth bared in the direction of Michael as he approached the two of them. She can't fault her; He is a stranger. The two of them together always fought for each others protection. It was no secret that Caitlyn was Camille's second in command back home in Bloemfontein, and there was an understanding that the two would protect one another with each others life. Easily, Camille's hand slides across the soft fur at the scruff of Caitlyn's neck, and her dainty fingernails (however dirty at the moment) began to scratch in a friendly motion. She pats at her fluff, as if to say It's okay, friend. We're fine. But they both remain on high alert, and there was no hiding it.

"So much has changed. It's not the same as you remember, Michael." Pale brows knit as her tongue darts over her bottom lip in contemplation. "You don't have to explain righteousness to me, it's just that you're the only one fighting."

She thinks that, maybe, he doesn't care. It's hardwired into his coding. He was created for smiting and righting.

"It's not the filth of this world that I'm fighting for my survival." Suddenly her stony eyes narrow, her gaze intense. Her arms are folding over one another while her lips purse. Nostrils flare.

There's a bluntness about Camille, that had never gone away since her falling. Learning how to comply with human laws and boundaries, and becoming susceptible to human emotion after taking form in one of their bodies was not an easy feat. She's mastered most things, but has not experienced even more, and tolerance and empathy were seriously lacking. Anyone who knew her would know this to be true.

She's frustrated.

After all, what did he have to fear? Gabriel? God himself? Camille never knew where the danger was coming from. Deception came disguised in many forms. Friendly faces. Demonic entities. Earth was riddled with treachery, but still. It was safer here than it was, well... Up there.

"You and me? Down here? Ripped away from the war, or tossed to earth like a piece of trash... It doesn't matter."

There was no use in spewing ethereal politics in the middle of a bar that they'd collectively just destroyed. There was blood everywhere. Large piles of ashes amassed across the floors and over the tabletops. Camille looks around, finally peeling her eyes from the large Arch before her and taking in her surroundings. What was it that she had hoped to accomplish when she had opted out into the evening, earlier tonight?

Whatever it was, satisfaction had not been achieved.
It probably never would be.

"We don't have a home anymore. Not anywhere."

Brutal truth.
Camille tastes the words as they roll off of her tongue, but does she really believe them?

She honestly doesn't know.

Eyes fall onto Cait once more, offering an assuring smile, not entirely sure if the beast inside of her would understand the gesture behind her expression.

January 31, 2017 06:04 pm

Michael Arch

We have no home…

It was a reality Michael had known for a long time. Centuries even. But was it ever really a home to begin with?

This is because someone has stripped us of our home. I intend on taking it back. I can understand where you are coming from, but I do not wish to make this my permanent residence. I also wish for it not to be yours.

The Arch had never wanted this for his kind. To be cast away as though they were nothing. He most certainly wasn’t going to allow Gabriel of all his kind to be the one to lead these ignorant angels into a dark and hellish direction. Not if he had something to do with it. Michael was made for the destruction that was going to take place. Many would perish, but it was not going to be without purpose.

I fully intend on taking back the rightful place where we belong. If I am the only one fighting or the only one willing to fight, so be it.

He outstretched his hand as if to present the destruction before them as though it was not seen.

This is but a fraction of the things I am capable of, and even if it means my end after all is said and done…

His own words caused the Archangel to grow silent as his eyes cast themselves down to a small flame by his right boot as his thoughts continued to run wild. It was all so new to him, even despite the centuries he was forced to spend upon the earth. This true act of betrayal would not go unanswered and judgement would follow soon enough.

And it would be by his own hand if it had to.

Stepping upon the small flame, smoke unfurled from underneath his boot and his eyes met hers again, and his voice held a certain matter-of-fact tone that it was as if he knew it was going to happen. Because it will.

Then I will die so that I may be reborn again and lead our brothers and sisters into a path they should have been led for centuries. But my first concern is this world. Gabriel’s grip has started to fall upon the so called righteous here, and I intend on bringing judgement to them all. I do not care how long it takes me, or who I have to go through.

It was a statement he did not make for the hell of it. Michael fully intended on smiting anyone and everyone if that was going to be the case. God may not be present, but his power lied deep within the Archangel, and he intended on setting it free upon this horrid place. The place that was once seen as but a mere dream in their Father’s eyes was now a nightmare Michael looked to make right once again.
January 31, 2017 06:50 pm

Caitlyn Darrow

A part of her had been with Hell all along. As the monsters and demons burst at the contact of benediction. A shriek pierced through the damned, one with a rough beast-like undertone. Caitlyn clasped the bloodied and deformed palm of her hands against her ears. The energy didn't just past judgement on those around her, it impacted the beast harsher than she ever could fathom.

It made her feral nature furious. Black liquid started to drip entangled with saliva from her lips. Blood lightly trickled from her ears, and then the snarling return. However this time, the beast had a new target. The key to the divine energy that forced her humanity further from the light of day. A growl leaves her lips as her steps become calculated and produce their own steady pace. Make no mistake the beast was aware who Camille was, but that was before the angel unwittingly assaulted her brain with unwarranted light.

One of those voices that begged for mercy was inside the beast. The soft voice called out and tried to bargain with the animal. It tried to coax it back, but then the voice was eradicated by no other than the man who had took the peace of the establishment away. Indifference, apathy, the beast felt that way to the others. The demons. The hounds. However, now it was directly impacted. It wouldn't let this go. Legs limped closer to her angel, the saliva dripped down the corners of her mouth. White teeth and elongated canines remained exposed in front of her curled lips.

Camille's voice lifted as she heard the words directed to the man that caused her predicament. The bullet bulged out of her side and popped out of her raw flesh. The ping echoed as it hit and slid across the valley of the dead where they stood. The three of them had survived. Two angels and a beast. Each time Caitlyn got a grip on the beast psyche it was able to shoulder check her back into the purgatory that existed in the darkest place of her mind.

He moved closer to Camille, which caused the beast to lower itself to all fours. Nails dragged against the ground as she jet with surprising speed to Camille's side. Though just then she felt the reassuring hand of Camille grip her. It was a wordless speech to the beast. It was promises. Promises that everything would be fine. A soothing hand, but the beast only understood the archangel in front of them to cause pain.

A soft whimper followed by an extensive growl towards Michael as they continued to speak. Finally the beast bolts forward and trudges a few steps closer. Taking time to sniff the air skeptically, and even a little snout wiggle at the cigarette scent mixed with death. The beast stepped forward in all fours, with the back hunched into spot. The eyes displayed no Caitlyn within them. Her dress from earlier had been ripped to Hell, and the shreds of it slide over the rubble and bones.However when she's close enough to Michael, she bares her teeth again.

Her body angles, and one leg dexterously lifts up in the air. Still as close to Michael as she can get, perhaps even at his side. She unleashes her wrath on him like any canine does. Gold urine shoots from her between legs and streams in his direction. The eyes of the beast narrow into hoods. Fingernails break against the ground, as she tries to somehow scratch the spare spots of liquid on the floor in the direction of his leg.

That would teach him to ignore her. Eyes remained locked on the two angels, as she lets out another vocalized howl.

March 25, 2017 08:53 pm
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