Post by Egyptian Myth on Mar 28, 2007 22:17:04 GMT -5
This isn't the type of roleplay I typically do, but I -NEED- a roleplay. @_@
I know it's kind of long, but read please. x< It's kind of like a book, but it is a roleplay I promise. :o
If you think it's too long and that you won't be able to post at least a paragraph each post, don't even bother reading. :/
~
STORY
No one notices when an angel comes to earth. It doesn't look like a falling star, or a meteorite, or a UFO light beaming down on our planet.. it's completely invisible to human eyes, completely unnoticed. Angels themselves are usually unseen by human eyes on earth anyway, going about their business, whatever that may be... taking a soul to be judged, protecting children, guarding the lives of those who deserve it, or sometimes just drifting about giving people sudden feelings of bliss, warmth, and/or confidence.
So of course no one noticed when the angel Stefan came down to do his job, which just so happened to be that of a death angel, which involves removing a soul to be judged. Often this is termed as just being 'one's time to go' by humans. Now Stefan's role - specialty, if you will - was those already near death. Typically the critically ill or fatally wounded or such. He would approach them, usually unseen, and remove their soul. They would take their last breath and their heart would cease beating. He would take their soul back to Limbo and there they would wait in line to be judged and.. well, you know the rest. It was not his job to explain anything. If they asked questions he could not answer much, but this was alright with him as he was quiet anyway.
No one ever really feared Stefan, on the rare occasions he was glimpsed. He appeared only 14 or 15 years old, after all; as that was the age he died. His skin was pale, his hair was straight, messy, almost shoulder length, and raven black. His eyes were originally black-brown, but became a beautiful and startling golden yellow in death. He wore simple ragged, black jeans and a sleeveless black shirt that hugged his slender, almost feminine frame. His wings were standard angel wings; feathered in a way meant to be more beautiful than purposeful, as angels truly don't need their wings to fly. The plumes were the faintly glowing, purest white that could be expected, and indescribably soft to the touch.
On this night his assignment was mostly unknown to him. A hooded young man was all he was told; that this young man was bleeding to death in an alleyway in the city. This was quite mysterious, as typically angels were entirely informed of their client, but when Stefan questioned the cherubim they either ignored the question or changed the subject. He wasn't one to pry, as he didn't really care, so he let it slide.
Walking through this alleyway his footsteps were silent, his form was unseen, and his wings were neatly folded behind him. After a few twists and turns through the alleys he came across his assignment, sitting on the ground leaning against the wall. The young man's eyes were concealed by the shadow of his hood; strangely, he wore a ragged, old, torn black cloak, and little could be seen of him.
As Stefan approached his foot stepped in a puddle that seemed kind of thick; it had rained earlier, he had been stepping in puddles the whole way there, but this felt different. When he looked down he discovered a puddle of a semi-thick, blue liquid that shimmered sapphire in the moonlight. He tilted his head curiously, his eyes following the trail of liquid along the ground, tracing it to.... the hooded figure. He took three steps closer, staring down at the young man, whose breath was hoarse and heavy.
The cloaked young man, who appeared no older than 18, had strands of long, white hair poking out from the shadows of his hood. /Odd./ Thought Stefan, squinting curiously. The young man lifted his head a little, staring at Stefan with black-brown eyes much like he used to have; perhaps even darker. The stare sent chills through the angel, and he involuntarily shuddered. He was not too surprised; his clients, being on the edge of death and all, sometimes did see him. But only for a minute.
Stefan extended his hand, palm facing the hooded young man, preparing to extract the soul of the assigned. The client was still other than his heavy breathing, his stare unwavering; and somewhat unnerving. The angel pressed his palm to the young man's chest and burrowed into his conscious to remove the soul. This usually didn't take long. Sharp chills, almost as sharp as pain, raced up through his hand up his arm and through the rest of him, even his wings giving a slight shiver. He blinked, sensing something was wrong, and out of impulsive fear began to withdraw his hand. The hooded figure's teeth clenched and he groaned.
Thick, smoke-like tendrils of a black, cold material called Shadow erupted from the young man's chest where Stefan's palm was, bursting out and whipping toward the angel like the wicked tentacles of a hungry beast. Stefan gave a soft whimper and tried to back away, but the whips of Shadow coiled around his arm and tightened, gripping him, then crawling up his arm and beginning to envelope him like a freezing blanket of darkness. It completely covered him for a moment, a mass of writhing, almost living Shadow, but then withdrew off his body, dripping down from him and slithering down his arm, retreating back into the hooded young man. The mysterious hooded one tensed, shifting uncomfortably, then disappeared in a whisp of shadow.
Stefan fell to the ground unconscious on his stomach. His feathers drifted down all around him, gently floating down like autumn leaves, his wings limp and semi-expanded at his sides. One soft plume, black as the Shadow that had nearly devoured Stefan, silently landed in a puddle of the sapphire liquid. A puddle of the blue blood that had been flowing out of the hooded young man that had disappeared. The hooded young man who's Shadows had somehow eaten Stefan's very divinity.
Stefan was still an angel, but no longer holy. He was Fallen.
~
CLOSED!
Thanks for joining Rae. :3
So yeah, he's a Fallen Angel now, but he's not owned by Satan; but not by God either. He's also totally visible and physical to the humans. He hasn't got much power now, he can fly, but now only with his wings. He can retract his wings at will. He heals a little faster than a human, but not instantly, and so obviously he can be hurt too.
And uhhmmm. Anything else about him you can figure out in the roleplay. :>
I know it's kind of long, but read please. x< It's kind of like a book, but it is a roleplay I promise. :o
If you think it's too long and that you won't be able to post at least a paragraph each post, don't even bother reading. :/
~
STORY
No one notices when an angel comes to earth. It doesn't look like a falling star, or a meteorite, or a UFO light beaming down on our planet.. it's completely invisible to human eyes, completely unnoticed. Angels themselves are usually unseen by human eyes on earth anyway, going about their business, whatever that may be... taking a soul to be judged, protecting children, guarding the lives of those who deserve it, or sometimes just drifting about giving people sudden feelings of bliss, warmth, and/or confidence.
So of course no one noticed when the angel Stefan came down to do his job, which just so happened to be that of a death angel, which involves removing a soul to be judged. Often this is termed as just being 'one's time to go' by humans. Now Stefan's role - specialty, if you will - was those already near death. Typically the critically ill or fatally wounded or such. He would approach them, usually unseen, and remove their soul. They would take their last breath and their heart would cease beating. He would take their soul back to Limbo and there they would wait in line to be judged and.. well, you know the rest. It was not his job to explain anything. If they asked questions he could not answer much, but this was alright with him as he was quiet anyway.
No one ever really feared Stefan, on the rare occasions he was glimpsed. He appeared only 14 or 15 years old, after all; as that was the age he died. His skin was pale, his hair was straight, messy, almost shoulder length, and raven black. His eyes were originally black-brown, but became a beautiful and startling golden yellow in death. He wore simple ragged, black jeans and a sleeveless black shirt that hugged his slender, almost feminine frame. His wings were standard angel wings; feathered in a way meant to be more beautiful than purposeful, as angels truly don't need their wings to fly. The plumes were the faintly glowing, purest white that could be expected, and indescribably soft to the touch.
On this night his assignment was mostly unknown to him. A hooded young man was all he was told; that this young man was bleeding to death in an alleyway in the city. This was quite mysterious, as typically angels were entirely informed of their client, but when Stefan questioned the cherubim they either ignored the question or changed the subject. He wasn't one to pry, as he didn't really care, so he let it slide.
Walking through this alleyway his footsteps were silent, his form was unseen, and his wings were neatly folded behind him. After a few twists and turns through the alleys he came across his assignment, sitting on the ground leaning against the wall. The young man's eyes were concealed by the shadow of his hood; strangely, he wore a ragged, old, torn black cloak, and little could be seen of him.
As Stefan approached his foot stepped in a puddle that seemed kind of thick; it had rained earlier, he had been stepping in puddles the whole way there, but this felt different. When he looked down he discovered a puddle of a semi-thick, blue liquid that shimmered sapphire in the moonlight. He tilted his head curiously, his eyes following the trail of liquid along the ground, tracing it to.... the hooded figure. He took three steps closer, staring down at the young man, whose breath was hoarse and heavy.
The cloaked young man, who appeared no older than 18, had strands of long, white hair poking out from the shadows of his hood. /Odd./ Thought Stefan, squinting curiously. The young man lifted his head a little, staring at Stefan with black-brown eyes much like he used to have; perhaps even darker. The stare sent chills through the angel, and he involuntarily shuddered. He was not too surprised; his clients, being on the edge of death and all, sometimes did see him. But only for a minute.
Stefan extended his hand, palm facing the hooded young man, preparing to extract the soul of the assigned. The client was still other than his heavy breathing, his stare unwavering; and somewhat unnerving. The angel pressed his palm to the young man's chest and burrowed into his conscious to remove the soul. This usually didn't take long. Sharp chills, almost as sharp as pain, raced up through his hand up his arm and through the rest of him, even his wings giving a slight shiver. He blinked, sensing something was wrong, and out of impulsive fear began to withdraw his hand. The hooded figure's teeth clenched and he groaned.
Thick, smoke-like tendrils of a black, cold material called Shadow erupted from the young man's chest where Stefan's palm was, bursting out and whipping toward the angel like the wicked tentacles of a hungry beast. Stefan gave a soft whimper and tried to back away, but the whips of Shadow coiled around his arm and tightened, gripping him, then crawling up his arm and beginning to envelope him like a freezing blanket of darkness. It completely covered him for a moment, a mass of writhing, almost living Shadow, but then withdrew off his body, dripping down from him and slithering down his arm, retreating back into the hooded young man. The mysterious hooded one tensed, shifting uncomfortably, then disappeared in a whisp of shadow.
Stefan fell to the ground unconscious on his stomach. His feathers drifted down all around him, gently floating down like autumn leaves, his wings limp and semi-expanded at his sides. One soft plume, black as the Shadow that had nearly devoured Stefan, silently landed in a puddle of the sapphire liquid. A puddle of the blue blood that had been flowing out of the hooded young man that had disappeared. The hooded young man who's Shadows had somehow eaten Stefan's very divinity.
Stefan was still an angel, but no longer holy. He was Fallen.
~
CLOSED!
Thanks for joining Rae. :3
So yeah, he's a Fallen Angel now, but he's not owned by Satan; but not by God either. He's also totally visible and physical to the humans. He hasn't got much power now, he can fly, but now only with his wings. He can retract his wings at will. He heals a little faster than a human, but not instantly, and so obviously he can be hurt too.
And uhhmmm. Anything else about him you can figure out in the roleplay. :>
TOAST. <3 
s'okay!)