[IC] Of Demons and Men(Dreaming Vs RiDaku)

[Dreaming]

The terrible conclade of war painted a terrifying and broken image across the landscape. The smell of gun-smoke heralded the flash of artillery and tank-fire that sent blood skyward, and brought the great monolithic buildings to naught but cinders. For as far as the world was wide, it seemed, rubble and corpses were strewn about the dark, delapidated streets of Damascus, lost holy kingdom of righteous men. Blood flowed like rivers, and the soldiers, essences corrupted and contrived by the guised tampering of Exael, unchecked Demon of Earth and minion to the Prime Evil Asmodan, murdered on.

Several weeks had come and gone since the Angel of Secrets was dispatched by his Father to hunt down the low ranking demon, but it was too late. The demon, disguised as silver tongued handsome politician had coerced the earth into a third world war, and had taken to the field to slay the mortals himself, and thus Raziel's order from the Lord was prioritized from non-violence, to destroying the foul creature for its sins.

A flicker in the weave of edification immediately alerted Raziel to a throng of demonic presences, and as he suspected, several legions of varied, snarling and burning infernal demons came forth from the void, maws dripping with maliciousness and shredding claws soaked in vitriol. They swiftly filled the intersection(of which Raziel stands within the center of) in great quantities, but were kept at bay by their quarries unwaveringly holy presence. All about him a swirling mass of power bled, saturating the air, and bending the world about it.

"Be gone!" The dark robed angel exclaimed. "My business lies with your master, and the masters of your master, not with you. So be gone! And be spared so that you may cross me another day."

He offered them, by virtue of his nature, an escape. Though he knew their nature all too well. The weight of conscience pushed him to extend the gesture regardless. The demons did not abate and did not flee, as the angel anticipated, but instead leapt, crawled, and flew to assail Raziel, though they were not prepared for what came next....

"Very well... Lucene!"

A burning darkness that existed within and about Raziel characterized Lucene's presence, and that burning shadow replicated and multiplied the evil, and malicious intent within the demons as they crossed her threshold to such an extreme that it became a volatile anti-essence, dissipating extreme amounts of negativity across the targets, resulting in a hail of contained explosions, sending debris, dust, concrete, essence, and viscera sprawling eratically in all directions.

The earth beneath the demons who were grounded at the time of meta-physical detonation was depressed and cratered, though everything within or around Metatron remained pristine and untouched.

"Come to thee..."

A second flash, this time far brighter than the corruption from just moments prior, stabilized and manifested upon his Damascus armor the items of Wroth: Gauntlets and greaves, a serpentine bow, and a great infernal shield. Items that would undoubtedly become of use shortly.

Exael remained at large, and the Angel of Secrets would not allow him to escape a second time.

[plsdeletemyacc]

Why not?

This had been Jeoffrey's motto since his ascension within the Sicarius. Why not strut in to a meeting of hostile Sic? Why not practice with multidimensional portals? Why not step inside an unstable rift? Why not fuck with angels? Everything he did could be reasoned off with "Because I felt like it." Why not fuck with the angels? It's after he saw them that he decided that.. Maybe this world won't be so pitiful. So instead of seeking of a way to return home, he donned the Reaver Armor, and stepped out in to the city of Damascus. Jeoffrey had proven to be a terror rather quickly; No Demon could match him, and no Angel could drive him off. All who stood in his path were quick to fall, and in the past week of his being here, his Reaver blade had tasted so much Demon blood that it existed both on the mortal and aetheric plane, capable of wounding the supernatural and deities. The blood of the demons stained his leather full-body cloak, leaving it a cruel blackish-red tinge, and he rather liked it. Jeoffrey was always one to garb himself in dark, 'edgy' colors, as the infernal color scheme struck fear in to the hearts of men. Fear was a large part of what he did.. Intimidation went a long way in the world of combat, a world that never changed, even throughout the multiverse.

As time had gone on, Jeoffrey had been striking the angels down. They proved to be a far greater challenge, seeming to appear in fewer numbers than the demons did. This lead him to believe that they were the better game, and so even through his nightly sprees of demonslaying, he took it upon himself to challenge and claim the heads of angel scouts and warriors that arrived to the scene rather late. The Dominus was quick to move out when he heard the howling of wind and the roaring of magic, all he had to do was follow the swarm of demons racing through the ruined city to find the cause.. And he held back quite a few feet as another spell was prepared. The Demons were driven back, and with a fancy show, this Angel had garbed himself in rather interesting armor. He could feel the supervillain inside of him rise up as he grinned, and decided that perhaps a little drama would go a long way. Thus, his figure began to stride forwards, appearing to onlookers as if he were gliding across the ground what with his full-body cloak encircling his person and disguising his feet from view, and at his approach the demons in his path shuffled aside. They could feel it, the blood of their brothers coating his body, his confidence and disturbing presence leaving them to choose life over death in his case. From the mass of demons stepped the hooded Dominus, the weighted Reaver blade sheathed on his back. The hilt stuck up behind his head, the pommel shaped in to the visage of a human skull. The blade itself pierced the leather cloak, and stretched down along the Dominus' back, allowing him to grab and draw it by the blade, and 'unsheathe' it without reaching out from his garb. His head tipped upwards, glaring from the shadows cast by his hood at this Angel, and from this angle the light that hit him showed off his face below his nose. He proudly bore a Van Dyke, black oily hair encircling his mouth, which was slowly curling up in to a wicked grin. If he spoke, it wasn't loudly, but an adept lipreader would be able to see, "Come on, little bird."

[plsdeletemyacc]

( Sorry, below his nose, not neck, I got distracted right there. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to edit it, so I'll post my correction here. Also a mention @Dreaming so you know I posted! )

[Dreaming]

The newcomer was sensed long before he was seen, and his intent was made abundantly apparent, the inherently evil nature he bore standing out like a tainted black beacon amongst the demons. Lucene's presence within Raziel stirred violently and in unsettling motions, its corruption wishing to be loosed. But Raziel would not unleash her. Not yet. Every human had a chance at salvation, and Raziel would not rob this man of his.

Instead, the mighty fountain of power that roared like a hurricane about Raziel excited the earth beneath, and the space around him as boulders and rocks seemed to rise from the earth or freeze mid-flight within a stasis lock, or so it would appear to the eye of one not gifted with sight beyond sight. In truth, this was the secondary function of the edification weave, trapping the energy of the objects within, and locking it until inevitable reapplication.

The six foot infernal heater shield positioned just aside the angel swivelled to the rear with telekinetic influence, bow following suit just in time for the man(as he comes out of the throng of demons) to see Raziel's gauntlet strike earth with such stores of masterfully focused power that the stone and steel crumbled and flash-melted into the shape of a moat distanced ten feet out from him, molten lava filling the fissure.

The demons, finally in realization of their inferiority in the face of such powers tried to flee from the battle, but the angel of secrets would not allow them to escape justice.

The massive stores of energy within the hundreds of rocks surrounding him was suddenly reapplied in full force, firing like a gattling gun into the legion, mowing them down like blades of grass. By virtue of unfortunate positioning, the newcomer would also be subject to the suppressive fire, standing at the front lines of the devilish host.

The shield swiveled back around to the front facing position, embedding itself into the earth like a tower shield as six wings sprouted from either side to more than double its length across. From behind his bulwark he gripped the serpentine bow, pulling back against the string with such force any other would have snapped betwixt. Slowly, power built within the bow as it manipulated the natural occurrences of energy within the surroundings.