Wind Wild — Roleplayer Guild

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Azel

(only known around Loom as Azoth)

When he came to it was night. He had no recollection of where he was or how he had gotten here. Something had its jaws clenched around his ankles, biting so hard that he whimpered as he tried to move them. His bones were hurting so bad – as if every single one of them had been broken and repaired again right after, leaving his body in shock and unable to decide what it should feel – pain or relief. It was cold, he realised, and nothing more. It had settled so deep within him that it had become his only sensation. [insert beach]
The freezing ocean waves were crashing mercilessly against the rocky beach and he was but an unfortunate maggot in their way. How many years, or maybe mere months, would it have taken for his bones to be ground to fine white sand if he hadn’t awoken? 

He shook his head. Ridiculous thoughts, what did they matter? Useless. Where was she? She mattered. He had to get to her. Ah, there it was – the light of the brilliant white feathers that always served as his lodestar in this messy and confusing world of dark shadows and blood. The only thing that was always there and the only thing he could ever be sure of. The soft glow was flattering the full moon above as a virgin priestess flatters the gods. 

But there was something wrong, his drunk mind remarked, about his master. She wasn’t her usual lively, smiley self; she was still, oh so very still... As still as one can be. Worry crept up his spine, but worry gentle as a slithering snake and not sharp as spider feet. What kind of worry was that, he wondered as he approached; was it even real? 

And there he was, next to her, clueless as to how his feet could move to take him to her when they couldn’t even hold him up a moment ago. But there he was, next to her. And there she was not.

Instead of his master there was a fake, a lifeless, mauled body, full of pain it could no longer feel. He cocked his head to the side, unable to grasp the situation at first, the paradox of something being there but not there striking him as utterly impossible at first. Oh but it happened to everyone, he remembered soon enough, when they returned to the void. When they perished. A sound escaped his throat, one that sounded like a whine at first but like a snicker all the same. 

He leaned closer and turned her body around to look at the gorgeous face that he once loved. He wouldn’t love it now, that was certain, because there was nothing left to love. The eyes were gouged out, nose ripped apart in a blind fury that dislocated skin and crushed bone to create something new and completely different... 

He smiled, a tender smile really, and not because he could remember the face whole. He leaned in, his long pointed tongue sliding out of his mouth to caress the harsh wounds. A thing she had made him do so, so often when she was hurt and wanted him to pretend being able to heal her. And it didn’t heal her now, as it never did. 

Then he gently kissed her lips, or what was remaining of them anyway, and the kiss was so soft and so lovely in its ridiculousness. Her lips were swollen and cold and blue and damaged but they were more tender than they had ever been.

The edge of his sharp teeth grazed them one last time before severing them with ease. Blood filled his mouth, disgustingly cold but sweet and thick as honey and his kiss was comple. He was comple. 

He was whole again.

~*~

The ocean is such a terrifying thing. Azel’s mind wandered an hour later, his gaze taking in the sight that was set in front of him. He hadn’t bulged for the past hour, save for the continuing shivers that cruised down his wet body and the limp flutter of the feather hanging from the side of his mouth. It’s endless like endless sorrow and loud as eternal pain. How can humans find such a thing enchanting? How can they worship this monster and willingly submit their children to its embrace? A wave roared as if responding to his silent question, sending its liquid fury to take him and bury him, once and for all. But it didn’t reach. It wouldn’t reach. Despite still sitting on the very same shore he had awakened on, Azel had moved, ever so slightly, further in-land. White foam reached his feet and made his lips curl. 

This thick black void, those heavy hands reaching for him with their white bony fingers... that was Hell, wasn’t it? The roar of the ocean was the roar of his kin, trapped and confined in a prison somewhere far below. The waves shifted and moved and opened their mouths to scream at him to come back. 

But all they could do is scream and reach for his feet. All they could do is spit at him with spite. 

The sun started rising and dyed the ever struggling prisoners in the bright red that now matched his lover. 
His master.... 
His …
? 
Azel’s gaze slowly detached itself from the waves and moved back to the body spawned on the cliffs. She was so beautiful right now... much more beautiful than she’d ever been... and so, so much more hideous. 

He had to smirk. His heart was breaking, pulled in two directions at the same time... Love, hate, joy and sorrow... His mind couldn’t pick a side and his heart couldn’t pick the right emotion to feel. 

The feather in his mouth made a small loop. He had tried to extract the memories hidden within but it hadn’t worked. He was clueless as always. No, more than always. Because for “always” to exist, “Laura” had to exist. 

I don’t need “always”. “Now” would suffice.

~*~

Those are the first memories Azel has of the Surface. To this day, he's still not sure how exactly he got here, or when. For the past 234 years he's had plenty of opportunity to find out but for some reason, he hasn't. What he knows is that somehow he'd become a Tamer's pet. He's unsure of the nature of their relationship but what it's left him with is a bittersweet memory and a pretty strong distaste for angels. Getting caught by Hazumi back in her dark-angel-days and forced to endure hers and Lucien's madness did little to change his view. 
But few would notice that racism as he harbors the same feelings to much of his own kind. Perhaps he just favours the weak? His past history and reputation seems to suggest that… in a twisted way.

Azel was strongly involved in Judas’ war where he convinced Zi, a conscious shard of Hazumi, to help Loom's citizens by working on creating the first TWP gear. It was messy and crude and it took years but eventually they tipped the balance and overthrew Judas.

He may be something of an unsung hero but more than anything, Azel is a survivor... and an opportunist. Under the name of “Azoth” he saw the potential to develop the TWP into a product after the war and started a paralegal business with masks that allowed their wearer to inherit the skills of the soul that was used to create them. Despite the risks involved, the method carried on to become one of the greatest (and most dangerous) inventions of the century. The business grew and eventually became too troublesome to manage, so he sold it and moved on. 

“Azoth” operates on the streets now. He gave up the expensive suit (for the most part) and the expensive watch (in favour of a slightly less expensive one). And he prefers staying out of the spotlight letting hushed voices do the business that was once printed on shiny paper. He deals in power, one way or another. He takes it, and he can give it to you. Rumour has it he’s starting a new endeavour, somehow connected to chimeras and their unique nature. But of course, it’s just a rumour.
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