Dark Jack

The Prophecy

The Compendium said Penin
Often considered blunt and distrustful, penin is a race that keeps mostly to itself, only admitting to interacting with outsiders when conducting trade with other races, or in the odd event when unwelcome strangers manage to stumble too near one of their cities in the hostile regions of northern Wegam Fermos, where there are plenty of mountains in which to build settlements and even more plentiful resources of ores and stone. The penin boast of their bargaining-skills, and their boastfulness is well-earned, for they are amongst the most stubborn and headstrong creatures in all of Reniam, but at the same time also some of the most indulgent and merry once they know that they are amongst friends.
A penin is a humanoid of modest height, rarely even growing to be four feet tall, but are very proportionally broad and powerful for their size. While most of their bodies are built the same way as that of any other humanoid, there are certain differences, such as the fact that both their heads and hands are incased in a tough naturally occurring bone-armor, appearing to be a sort of exoskeleton that covers all except their eyes, nose and mouth. The extra skull makes the penin's heads almost impossible to crack, and the bone-plates on their hands enable them to handle things that are too sharp or hot for unprotected hands without any discomfort. On top of this natural armor, the penin enjoy a remarkable constitution and amazingly durable bodies (proof of that is the fact that they enjoy drinking the beverage they call Finest like humans drink ale, despite of Finest literally being able to melt a person's hair, skin and eyeballs if getting in contact with them), making them notoriously hard to kill - especially since most non-lethal injuries just tend to piss them off. It was supposedly their very durability which caused the natural development of their mastery in the forging of weapons, as well as them being able to handle red-hot metal with their bare hands. Starting out hard to kill, penin naturally needed better weapons than other races in order to kill each other, and in order to protect against these better weapons, better armor was needed, etcetera, etcetera. Today, the penin have the greatest masters of metallurgy, masonry and carpentry in all of Reniam, and their forges are the origins of the finest weapons and armor in the world.
In battle, penin tend to take advantage of their hardiness, making tight formations to prevent their enemies from passing by them when forced to fight and hiding behind massive walls and siege-engines when trying to outlast their opponents - the latter being their favorite manner of achieving victory. Although penin - with habits that lead them to drink, fight and generally be in rather life-threatening situations during the practice of their crafts - rarely live to die of old age, they can live to be up to three hundred years old.

The Prophecy

Right, it did kind of give me a feeling of "that's not what I remember it to be" writing that... and checking back I also realize that it referred to the land, not the species. Huh... I guess I'm still pretty tired.
And the bit about the name makes sense; truthfully I suspected that such might be the case, it just wasn't clarified and I'd only ever heard the character mentioned as Claw before. Nice to be certain, though.

The Prophecy

Ah, weekend at last. I thought I had an idea of what to expect of being a university student after my brief time studying to become a teacher last year, but woah, this university is a different beast altogether. Not only is it bigger - around ten times as big, I'd say... shit, I'm pretty sure that just the university itself is between three and six times the size of my entire hometown, with a population that I know for a fact is nearly a hundred times as big, with them having over ten thousand people studying there - but the expectations they have as to what you can achieve in a certain amount of time are much, much higher. It's quite daunting, really, but hopefully it'll be all right. I survived the first week, so I'd say chances are good that I'll make it through the second one too.
So yeah, sorry about being so brief in my last post here, but I was genuinely exhausted.

Hmm... are this Ajanok and Claw two different Malkor'Kurz? My initial thought was that you had merely decided to rename the character, but then Claw was mentioned as well, so I grew uncertain as to which was actually the case. Anyways, it seems fine thus far; I actually chuckled a little of the Malkor'Kurz alternate title for Echoers. "Users of the Rawr"... heh. For some reason that seems very funny to me.

The Prophecy

He doesn't even know who did it? Fixer thought amusedly, cocking his head slightly to the left as he listened to Ixion's brief words on the subject of the one who had poisoned him. That's unexpected coming from a man who would boldly state that he doesn't leave witnesses. But then, he hasn't exactly been all that impressive and rather self-conflicting today, so I suppose it shouldn't surprise me. It would've been easier if he knew who it was, though... would've potentially saved me quite some time.
"I'm observant 'n' well-informed, not omniscient," he probably unnecessarily redefined the perceived limits of his knowledge, shrugging with his left shoulder and waving dismissively with his right hand. "I don' kno' who di'it, I just figured tha' if 'e dude's still 'live I should prob'ly find 'im 'n' make an example of 'im, eh? Might still do tha', even if ya don' kno' who it was; I'm real good a' findin' info."
He patted his coat-pocket with his right hand upon making that last statement, as though to use the Necrology as evidence of his proficiency at this particular skill... and to put it bluntly, there probably was no better way of demonstrating how good he really was at tracking down even the most obscure information from the most unlikely sources than that little black book. Ever since he had broken as a tool - which would be a several months before Paul IV realized that he had so, and a similar length of time before Corpse Forge learned of his betrayal - he had been lurking the corners of these northern lands and found every scrap of information he possibly could about the tools and their identities and pasts. The fact that the Necrology contained more-or-less complete information on fourteen people for which Corpse Forge and the governments doing business with them had made every effort to hide the existence of was indeed a quite amazing feat, and he had actually found rather comprehensible information on a number of past tools as well, those who had either died during the fulfillment of their function or had been disposed off once they had reached a point of being incapable of continuing to function.
The only tool he had been incapable of finding any information on - not even the slightest hint of an identity or a trace of a past - was himself. He was the only current tool, or at least the holder of a tool-specification based on its associated Dirge, not mentioned in the Necrology. For some reason everyone had been far more diligent about erasing his existence from the world than they had with the others... it was rather frustrating, really. Not even the Grand Master knew. Only the Oracle could possibly know.
And without that information, he knew that he would eternally remain the heartless, sadistic and violent Fixer. Without reclaiming the spirit that Corpse Forge had taken from him, he could never be a complete person again.
Not that he wanted to be... he just wanted the option.

He wanted to say a little more, addressing both Ixion and the sniffer and letting them know the terms under which he was letting them walk away today without a fight, but even as he opened his mouth behind his mask to speak, the violet eyes in the shadow behind the dark red visor were drawn from the assassin's countenance by the sight of movement behind him. Fixer glared past his fellow contract-bound servant of the Ancient One and straight at a new arrival in their little alley, all amusement instantly vanishing from his demeanor. Time to think fast. The penin was moving in at a brisk pace. He only had seconds.
The first thought that came to Fixer's mind was to simply kill this individual who dared ruin his fun, erasing the witness before any more attention was drawn to what was going on here. He was actually already starting to move, his weight shifting on his feet as he prepared to rush forward and end this interloper so quickly that he would not even figure out what had happened in the afterlife. But even as he started lifting his right foot to take the first accelerating step, Fixer's mind recognized this penin; I'onriyi Grace of Winds, the magus and magical craftsman who was considered of similar standing to most lesser nobles and merchants, and who was a personal friend of the Blue Duke. This alone would merely have made killing the man inconvenient, since he would have had to hide the fact that it was the Fixer who had murdered him to avoid unwanted attention to his workings in Rodoria, but Fixer also recalled that this particular little penin mage was one with a thirst for adventure; in fact he thought I'onriyi was out on an adventure right now and thus away from the city. He would have had to have returned pretty recently for Fixer not to have learned about it yet.
But that was what really complicated things for him; adventurers were people who were liable to acquire quality equipment, powerful artifacts and to eternally improve their skill and strength, and so most non-worthless adventurers were automatically included on his list of people who could potentially make for an entertaining diversion in the future. He did not want to kill I'onriyi now while he was still this weak, considering that he could possibly make for a genuine challenge in a hypothetical future. On the other hand, I'onriyi was not exactly known for being morally ambiguous... and even if Ixion had apparently acquired some misguided sense of honor that had nearly ruined everything just before, he and the sniffer were clearly a bit more tolerant in terms of ethically questionable actions such as murdering servants of the realm. The chances of the penin being any kind of amicable once he saw the dead body with them were not very good. In fact, chances were that I'onriyi would even assume that Ixion, who was standing in the alley as well, seemingly having a friendly conversation with someone as obviously shady as Fixer, was an accomplice to the murder... which was technically true, but would make for some unfortunate circumstances.
Think fast. Dead body behind him, Ixion in front of him, witness behind Ixion. Killing I'onriyi would be troublesome and was not something he wanted to do. Letting him live and escaping would likely implicate Ixion and cause trouble for him. But if Ixion was perceived as not being on peaceful terms with the obvious murderer - if hostile actions were taken between the two of them, suggesting that they were in fact enemies - Ixion might be viewed as someone who had tried to intervene.

Now it's your turn to think fast, Ixie, Fixer thought, his mind having worked so fast that he was still only midway through his first step by the time he reached this conclusion. He immediately changed the movement from a step forward to a forward thrust of his knee, bending the leg as he accelerated, aiming the attack at Ixion's abdomen. If landed the kick, which was likely considering how abruptly he had performed it, he would set his right foot back down and, while the assassin had the air knocked out of him, would proceed to thrust his right hand palm-forward into Ixion's chest with enough force to throw him right off his feet. Hopefully it would not actually injure him very badly, but it would hurt and look good.
Of course it would be even more convincing if Ixion fought back, but Fixer was not altogether sure whether that would be a good idea... Although it would make their performance more believable to I'onriyi, he was not confident that he could fight for any extended period of time without crippling or killing the other.

The Prophecy

Yeah, it's my turn, I know... just... wait until the weekend, eh? Please? Dreaded September is already kicking my ass, so I doubt I'll have the energy for it until then...

The Prophecy

While we wait for Rhaevnn to either post or give me a green light to post due to Morgan not actually doing anything in the current situation, how about you, yoshua? Were you going to have I'on join that scene so that you could actually participate in the RP now that you are free from that ultimately fruitless collab? Because the Fixer isn't liable to keep hanging around there much longer, and I'm not sure how much drive there is to keep that scene going once he leaves...

Welcome! Welcome to De' Seil Carnival!

Nah, it's not necessarily lazy... I could argue over why that is, but others have already done so before me, so there is little point in making the effort.

Especially since I just spent the past several hours writing an updated relations chart for Angoriel, and I am quite frankly a bit too tired after that business to even try to come up with something convincing to say in that regard. I will say this, though: cheer up. Be happy about your roleplay and enjoy it. That is possibly one of the most important parts of being a GM, I'd say.
Anyway, now that the relations chart is updated to include the new selection of characters (is Celleci with the Carnival in this incarnation? She isn't on the list, but she was mentioned in a CS (specifically Jassessi's, under the nickname CeCi) so I am a little confused as to whether I should include her on the chart) I have posted Angoriel's CS and chart in the thread we were directed to do so in.

Also, since I didn't say so earlier: congrationalions, Prince, on the Co-GM position.

Welcome! Welcome to De' Seil Carnivals - Meet our Carnival Cherries!

Angoriel

Appearance:

Picture

(For the appearance of the head only. Angoriel's facial hair is only about half length of that depicted in the picture, however, and his eyes are azure.)

Standing an imposing 6' 5", Angoriel is of a naturally masculine and well-muscled build, being wide-shouldered and broad-chested both due to a hereditary tendency towards such an appearance and due to vigorous physical training. His hands are unusually rough-skinned and he has numerous pale scars on the front of his fingers and the palms of his hands, which appear similar to burn-scars. These scars are also present on his shins, stomach, chest, shoulders, sides and back, though the skin there is not as hardened with toil as that on his hands, and the scars there generally do not run as deeply.
During performances Angoriel has found that displaying his scars usually has a strong effect on the audience and instills a degree of certainty in them that the danger in his act is real, and so he wears nothing more than a pair of back knee-length trousers, going bare-chested and bare-footed; he will however tie up his hair in a little ponytail during performances, just so that it won't get in the way. Outside of these he has come to somewhat enjoy the fashions of Earth and likes to wear suit-pants in either gray or black, white shirts and either a gray sports jacket or a black vest. He usually goes without socks, but wears black Oxfords, and likes to don a gray fedora. If he knows that battle is soon to come, however, he will almost certainly forsake any of these clothes (possibly leaving on his leg-garments) and wear his armor instead, as described in the Belongings-section.

True appearance: Most of Angoriel's true appearance - that which could be compared to a demon's vilest aspect - is reminiscent of his human self, though certain rather extreme changes overcome his human features that transform them into a monstrous mockery of their usual form. For one thing all of Angoriel's hair-growth turns black instead of brown, and his skin turns ashen white, so pale that the blue of his veins stands out clearly through his skin. The only exception to this is the area immediately around his eyes, marking the outline of his eye sockets, which instead turns dark crimson. His irises also turn bright yellow, and his tongue grows by about half its length and becomes inhumanly pointed like that of a lizard.
His more obviously inhuman features are also those that makes him more powerful and dangerous in his true form than at any other time, however, these being the transformation of his arms and the emergence of his wings. As an angel Angoriel possesses wings similar to those of his kin, feathered and with an impressive span of nearly twelve feet, but unlike the common angel's feathers, Angoriel's are tainted black by his blood and sins. And as a demon, Angoriel's arms are warped and grotesque to behold; they grow significantly longer, with the upper arms alone increasing their length to 1' 8", the forearm extending as far as 1' 4", the palms of his hands coming to measure eight inches across and the length of all of his fingers more than doubling, adding another eight inches, bringing each of his arms up to a total reach of 4' 4". All the various parts of his upper appendages also become notably thicker, sturdier and stronger with this mutation, and each of Angoriel's fingers grows an inch-long jet-black hooked claw.

Full Name: Angoriel

Age: Appears around thirtyish; the actual duration of his life measures an uncertain number of centuries, somewhere between a half and a whole millennium.

Gender: Male

Species:

Tartarus angel

Although outsiders might arbitrarily name this species simply dark angels, this is what their peculiar bloodline of celestials have come to call themselves. Although they are akin to most angels upon coming into existence, the longer their lives drag on, and the more they fulfill the duty they are born into, the greater the difference between their breeds becomes. Their task is to serve the archangel Uriel, aiding him in his role as guardian, although the tartarus angels' specific charge is nothing less than Urbaniel; here they act as keepers of the realm, ensuring the continued imprisonment of those sentenced to such in the Underworld and at the same time deliver punishment to the damned souls.
Their actions and their presence so near the border between Urbaniel and Limblel have their own corrupting influence, but this is only part of what causes them to differentiate. What truly sets them apart, and what qualified them for their grim trade in a realm so far from where angels normally wander, is their very lineage: tartarus angels is a breed produced by their progenitors, Samael and Lilith; an ancient archangel and a primordial demon. As a consequence of this, these angels come into being with naturally low purity that enables them to move in the vicinity of demons with less likelihood of being recognized as what they truly are, and the chances of discovery grow only slimmer as they live, work and corrupt themselves. Another sign of their bloodline is that their form possesses twisted features reminiscent of the alternate manifestation of demons; features that may be concealed the same as those of angels can - or transformed like a demon's can, depending on how you look at it - , but which will be revealed along with their angelic traits.
Tartarus angels remark themselves by being neither particularly pure or corrupt, thus not offending sensitivities against such things, while they at the same time are severely affected by extreme purity and corruption alike themselves and can only be at peace in the company of those who are neither. This also places the powers of Light and Shadow beyond their grasp, limiting them to commanding only the elements, and although they possess the resistance to damage that is common among angels and demons, tartarus angels are somewhat affected by iron, though not as much as a true demon. Though they are impure they are not fallen angels; tartarus angels can also fall, and will inevitably do so and delve into their demonic nature if they observe their duty in Urbaniel for long enough.

Level of Contamination: Horrendous; though Angoriel is not yet truly corrupt, his being is far from pure either.

Level of Glow: None; Angoriel lost his glow along with his purity.

Ability to Blend: Decent; with no glow to worry about hiding, Angoriel can focus his efforts on concealing his true appearance and assuming a more human exterior. His disguise tends to fail whenever he experiences strong emotions, however, resulting in the emergence of his hidden traits.

Most Used Power: From this angel's soul flows the chill of death and the cool of breeze alike, for Angoriel's greatest affinity is one that spans many elements; cold. Lowering temperatures is a basic, yet frighteningly potent ability, as substances condensate and freeze and life becomes and impossibility. Be it to cool a beverage or soften the heat of the summer sun, or quell flames or solidify a being's blood in their veins, cold is the power that is most commonly exhibited.
An ability that derives from this power of cold is the one for Angoriel to make himself impervious to fire by cooling his skin to unusually low temperatures. The downside of doing this is obviously that as long as Angoriel maintains this resistance to heat without him actually being subjected to a dangerously hot environment, he is simply making himself incredibly cold, the detrimental effects of which he is not impervious to.
He also possesses some mastery in manipulating water and air, though this power is secondary to that of cold and mainly obtained due to these being the most common conductors of this.

Significant/Special Belongings: His old equipment from serving as keeper of Urbaniel, consisting of an iron cuirass, a pair of leather gauntlets, a pair of iron greaves and a curious weapon unique to the tartarus angels, which is a forty-seven inch iron pole with three sharp hooks protruding from the end at a 120-degree angle to one another (like this). Aside from this his only notable possession is a small "stone" that is continuously changing its shape, size, mass, color and hardness; a souvenir from Limblel.
The purpose of the cuirass and greaves is actually two-fold, as not only does it offer an additional layer of protection on top of his naturally steel-hard skin but also continuously burns him for as long as he wears it due to his intolerance to iron, causing him lasting pain wherever it is in direct contact with his skin; this is also the cause of his burn-scars. It is not because Angoriel enjoys pain that he does this, but because the armor prevents tartarus angels from accidentally reverting to their true forms even during heated combat, particularly since the back of the cuirass will act as an agonizing obstruction to the emergence of his wings, the halting of which will negate the transformation altogether. The gauntlets are obviously not meant to protect his hands from external threats in combat, since his skin his much more durable than leather, but to shield his hands from his own weapon, since its iron will also burn him at direct contact, potentially making it very difficult to wield the three-hooked pole properly.

Fighting Skills/Techniques: Having trained only in fighting while wearing his suit of armor, adding an additional layer of protection to his already highly damage-resistant skin, this remains the only way that Angoriel knows how to fight. Although he obviously cannot wear his armor during everyday business at the Carnival - nor can he comfortably carry his weapon with him, either - Angoriel manner of fighting is extremely offensively oriented, with near-complete disregard for his own well-being. When unarmed he is liable to try to move in as close to his opponent as possible; with humanoids he will savagely pummel the other with all of his considerable strength, focusing his attention on head and abdomen, while his legs are used mainly to try to lock the other's legs in place or at least causing the other to trip if it tries to move, or alternatively by directing a sweeping kick at the other's legs. Against more bestial opponents Angoriel is more likely to attempt to grapple his adversary, preferably maneuvering himself onto the other's back from where he will then either wrestle the other to the ground or strangle it, if he is able to do so.
When armed with his three-hooked pole, however, Angoriel prefers to delay his own attack until his opponent tries to attack him, first. During this time when the other likely lowers its defenses and leaves itself prone, he will use the pole in a way much similar to how one would use a more traditional hafted weapon, letting the heavy hook-head carry the momentum of his swings. He will try to anchor one or more hooks in the other's flesh, optimally lodging a hook behind the other's shoulder blade, a rib or lodging them into an armpit. Upon achieving this he will usually pull on it relentlessly, leaving the opponent vulnerable to his possible allies' intervention and otherwise just prevent it from performing any further attacks.
Obviously these primary modes of attack are unlikely to actually defeat an opponent (unless the opponent has a human level of strength and durability, in which case even these attacks are likely to kill it) and are meant mainly to distract, disarm and impose movement of his adversary. But at the same time as he is doing the aforementioned things, if Angoriel actually intends to kill his opponent, he will exert his power of cold over his opponent and thus progressively weaken it and eventually kill it.
This is all in his human form, of course, and while this is how Angoriel will usually fight, there are times when he must fight as his true self, in the event of which he discards all pretense of humanity and surrenders to his demon-blood. With all the strength he possesses in this state, Angoriel is liable to brutally assault his opponent with his claws and otherwise engage in a fighting style solely reliant on his vigor, his mobility and his reach.

Weapon of Choice: His three-hooked iron pole, the weapon of tartarus angels called hampol.

Job Title & Description: The Fireproof Man
Although Angoriel obtained regrettably few skills during his time as a soldier guarding the borders of the Underworld suitable for a Carnival-performance, he has found that it is quite possible to shock and impress most audiences simply by demonstrating his ability to endure the touch of flame, though obviously he would not reveal to them that he uses his power to make himself impervious to their heat for as long as he stands amidst them. The exact details of his act vary a little from one performance to the next, although one act is rarely much different from the last, as he struggles to find things to do that is suitable for his purposes. His most common acts are those of walking on burning coals, leaping through rings of fire and often failing intentionally, as well as generally just exposing himself to naked flame. He will often feign stress or pain at the various parts of his act to make it impact the audience more strongly, although the likelihood of him actually getting hurt by it is almost nonexistent as long as he has the protection of his powers and durable skin.
Beyond this he will usually help a hand wherever such is needed provided that he does not specifically dislike the one requiring assistance.

Number of Souls You Have to Collect: 500000

Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls: A thousand years.

What Was Your Wish?: For the tartarus angels to be freed from their gruesome occupation and gain the freedom to choose their own fates.

How Many Souls Have You Collected?: 22416

How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?: Fifty-six years.

How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?: Although he believes that he has not been affected by this grisly task due to him being used to the similarly dreadful duty of tormenting damned souls, Angoriel cannot ultimately say truthfully that it has not changed him. While he consciously still regards his victims with detached indifference and rationalizes the action by thinking that he is used to doing much worse, and that the people he is doing it to probably deserve it anyways, he is in fact haunted by it more and more with every day he spends at the Carnival. Angoriel was originally convinced that all the creatures but angels were vile things indeed due to him having only seen those of them condemned to walk Urbaniel, but being at the Carnival and seeing more and more of the other species has taught him otherwise, and as his understanding of other beings deepens, so does the weight of the thousands of souls he has already collected. He has started having nightmares about the people he has branded, or in a few cases downright murdered, and his hesitation in doing what he must to fulfill his contract with Mr. Seil grows with every acquaintance and friendship he makes.
But while Angoriel can mostly convince himself that he does not care about those who fall prey to him, he cannot feign indifference towards the act of collection itself. His loathing toward treating souls like a commodity or a collectible, and of aiding a demon in doing so nonetheless, grows only stronger as time goes by and his regret of his own actions deepens.

Personality: Painful as such a cliché is to make, it remains a defining trait of Angoriel that he is inflicted with a terrible duality in his mind, and is driven by the benevolence of his angelic blood and the malevolence of his demon blood alike, and suffers from this internal conflict almost constantly. He often thinks long and hard before he speaks of acts, trying to sort through his instincts and emotions to learn whether he should act upon one of them or stick to being strictly rational and disregard the choice between purity and corruption altogether. This is often the case, and although he is an inwardly highly emotional person who is strongly affected by what others say and do - often in several different ways at once - he usually try to outwardly hide his feelings and the distress these cause him behind a facade of logic.
Although he is trapped between the influence of good and evil, Angoriel wants and tries to be a good person in many cases, and while he is hardly the sociable sort and never one to voluntarily join large groups of people, he enjoys talking to people whose presence he can actually tolerate and will go to great lengths to help those he considers deserving of such. He is easy to anger, however, and while he does not give in to his ire easily and almost always attempts to suppress his rage rather than give in to it, he becomes more and more impulsive and reckless the angrier he gets, and thus grows increasingly liable to turn to violence. He is a very patient man as long as someone is not doing something that Angoriel is particularly opposed to, however, so unless someone is intentionally trying to anger him or is doing something unusually cruel, his irritation will usually stay on manageable levels.
While he does not see eye-to-eye with all of the other people at the Carnival he does feel kinship with them due to their common bonds, and so he will often go out of his way to help or comfort even people he does not particularly like as long as he can even be in their presence at all without suffering major discomfort from this. He believes strongly in honor above all and admires people who act with honorable motives and cherishes innocence, but at the same time scorns weakness and naivety. Although he would not readily admit so to anyone he genuinely enjoys fighting, and finds it particularly exhilarating if his opponent seems to be stronger than himself.

Biography & How You Came to be a Member of The Carnival?:

One would think that when your father is one of the oldest and most powerful of the archangels and your mother is a primordial demon and nearly everyone else around you are only descendants of those who were your siblings that you would receive some kind of special treatment among your kin, that you would be regarded as superior somehow, as the prince that you really are, but alas, no such luck for a tartarus angel, for among the homeless angels who bear the demon blood within them there are no princes or peasants, no early or late generations, and never any special treatment; all are tartarus angels, brothers and sisters to each other and either strangers or enemies to all others. This was the only birthright Angoriel received when he came forth from his parents' unholy union as their umpteenth child, and was given to the care of his brethren immediately, never even knowing his parents' faces or voices. He was born, and then he was thrown into Urbaniel, to be trained as a soldier to serve Uriel as a keeper of the Underworld.
And this was the only life Angoriel ever came to know. He was trained as he grew up, never knowing a true childhood, and then he joined the ranks of his brethren in fighting demons and fallen angels, and in tormenting damned souls. It was a task that discouraged thinking and feeling, that pushed the self into obscurity and left only duty, which was probably why so little of note happened during this time. Angoriel could not even tell you if he spent five hundred years just fulfilling the task he had been given, or if it was actually a thousand years; keeping track of the days in Urbaniel was difficult in and by itself, shrouded in eternal darkness, and when each day is the same as the last, time loses all meaning. He never thought much about what he was doing back then, and never desired anything else, because this was the only life he knew.
The truly remarkable things that happened during this time of his life were few and easily recounted, and left memories sharper than any other in Angoriel's mind. His first unusual experience was when he was still in his youth, still convinced of his own invincibility and easily influenced by his greedy and spiteful demon-half, when he as many other tartarus angels had before tried to run away from his duty and escape his fate by fleeing into the lands beyond the borders of Urbaniel; Limblel. He had heard the tales of others who had tried and failed to make their way through this hazardous realm but had been convinced that he was the exception, that he could best the ever-changing nesting ground for nightmares when no one else could. Obviously he was wrong; barely had he crossed into Limblel before he realized just how much worse this realm was than Urbaniel. To this day he has been unable to recall what exactly happened back then, for all he remembers is flying back to his brethren, chilled to the bone and pale as a ghost, with his eternally morphing stone clutched in his hand. The cold fear that pierced his heart that day stayed with him ever since, and even now Angoriel is filled with intense dread at the very thought of going near Limblel.
The second notable step forward in Angoriel's life was doubtlessly the day he first heard tales of a demon who lived outside of Urbaniel, married to an angel, who lead an entire small army of misfits from all across the realms bound to his will through infernal contracts. "The Wish Master", they called him, supposedly capable of making any wish come true if one was to pay a price of servitude and souls. Although Angoriel's initial reaction was the same as that of his kin - namely the derision against those weak enough to rely on others felt by a person who has been brought up to thinking that you either live strong or die weak - the thought of the Wish Master stuck with him, tempting him, as it doubtlessly did many others if they heard such a story. Not that Angoriel ever thought that he might one day seek out the Wish Master and sign such a contract - he was a demon, after all, and thus the sworn enemy of his kind - but the idea of any wish potentially coming true was too enticing to simply put out of his mind.
And then, finally, came the day that derailed the life Angoriel had lived for monotonous centuries, for upon this day one of his elder sisters, one who was a dear friend of his, disappeared... and just several days later she returned, claimed wholly by corruption and given to the evil she had spent her entire life fighting. Seeing one of the few people in his life, and one he cherished nonetheless, having fallen despite only ever serving her purpose faithfully tore away the veil from his eyes and made him realize that this was the inevitable fate of his kind as long as they were bound to serve. How many of the demons and fallen angels they had fought, he wondered, were his own kin who had run out of time and succumbed to the taint of their blood and deeds?
This realization was what finally made Angoriel question his life, and like rings in the water the revelation spread through his awareness, sifting through his memories and making him see them all in a different light. Unlike most of his brethren Angoriel was not resolved to continue his duty for as long as he could; he would gladly give his life out of loyalty, but he could not accept sacrificing his purity for this vain task. He remembered the Wish Master then, and understood that now he finally had a wish that was worth servitude and souls to make come true; to save himself and his brethren from this gruesome destiny that was forced upon them from the moment of their conception. And he had been to Limblel and survived, as few of his kind could claim to have; he was confident that he could find the Wish Master.

So Angoriel deserted his duty and traversed the realms until he found Mr. Seil - or maybe Mr. Seil found him - and the contract was signed. As it turns out, it is much easier to forfeit one's freedom once one has realized that one has never been free. For fifty-six years now Angoriel has been with the De' Seil Carnival, collecting souls, performing as best he can and serving the Wish Master, but he has only just begun to serve the time he traded for the freedom of his family.

Sugary poison.

Relationship Chart

Angoriel's Relationship Chart

♥ = romantic || ☺= friends || ☠ = enemies || ◑ = neutral

Mr. Reficul Seil ~ (◑/☠) ~
"A vile creature, that Reficul Seil... a demon who has captured an angel and makes her suffer the fate of being his wife is bad enough, but that is only the least of his sins, is it not? To have the power to accomplish anything yet only use such power for personal gain; to lure the greedy and gullible into his grasp with lofty promises only to take away their freedom and make them do abominable things; to collect souls as if they were coins, to hoard them, even, for whatever sinister purpose Seil needs them - these are his true crimes against the realms. Oh, what one of a pure heart could do with his power; surely accomplishing such a thing by itself would earn my brethren their freedom, would it not? How grand it would be to smite him and cleanse the realms of his taint, free those tricked into slavery and retrieve the countless souls that have been removed from their natural course. How I long to tear his head from his shoulders and pierce his heart with my hampol, so that I will never have to endure another moment of sickness due to the presence of his corruption.
But alas he is the Wish Master, and only as long as he lives may my wish come true. I will serve for as long as I must and do as my contract demands, but should ever an opportunity present itself to accomplish both, I think my honor would forgive betraying my contract to end his evil."

Rosaline Bell Seil ~ (◑) ~
"I cannot even begin to comprehend my true thoughts about this magnificent creature, if I am to be honest. I am not blind to her beauty, obviously, and her compassion for all things speaks to parts of myself that I deeply cherish. Her innocence and naivety both warms my angel-heart and heats my demon-blood, filling me with equal measures of desire to shelter and violate her... and all the while I cannot stand to be near her, or my stomach will churn and head pound with agony from the sheer intensity of her purity. I want nothing more than to save her, for her fate in being eternally bound to Seil is grim indeed; had I not been cursed with my demon-blood, I may even have desired her for myself. How she and Seil can stand being near one another I will never know.
I must keep my distance, even if part of me adores her, and thus I must detach myself, lest my pain be all the deeper from the loss of her nearness. Oh how I curse my mother's blood for making Rosaline's vicinity disagreeable... but it cannot be helped; it is how it is, and I must accept this. She belongs to the Wish Master, anyway, and I must not defy him. Another reason to hate this Carnival."

Andracos Soleviel ~ (☠) ~
"This foul beast can praise his luck that Seil forbids those bound to the Carnival to kill one another, or I would not bother making the effort to suppress my hatred of him. Such wickedness! Soleviel is easily as despicable as any demon or fallen angel I ever fought, that is for certain. The lives, emotions and well-being of others have no value to him, he enjoys humiliating and murdering, and gladly defiles that which is pure; he makes no secret of any of this, it seems. It is fortunate that I can excuse myself from his presence due to his corruption making me ill, or I dare not guess if I would be at all able to contain my wrath. It is curious, really; only with Soleviel have I observed my angel- and demon-halves reinforcing each other, as my angelic disgust of him feeds my demonic fury.
If ever I get the chance I have no doubt that I will kill this man; he is even worse than Seil himself, albeit his crimes are arguably of a smaller scale."

Vincent Nicolas ~ (◑) ~
"A fallen one has come upon the Carnival; I have yet to get to know him, but I can feel the rage embedded into my very soul churn at my awareness of his presence. How many like him have I killed? I do not even recall the number, nor can I remember their faces, for I never thought anything of dispatching their kind before. His fate is the one that would have awaited me, had I not escaped... or perhaps mine would have been even worse, and I would have become a scourge as vile as Soleviel.
I know not much, but I do know this: if he proves to be true to what I used to think of the fallen, he shall be my enemy here as his kind was in Urbaniel."

Arina Lécuyer ~ (♥/☠) ~
"Vile succubus! Enchanting creature... Immoral harlot! Alluring temptress... Dishonest trickster! Virtuous damsel... Cursed be this woman who has delved in this place longer than I, for I do not know whether I love to hate her or hate to love her. She confuses me like none other, even more than fair Rosaline, and I want to court her, ravish her and kill her. And in truth how could it be any other way? She is a beautiful woman, even with those infernal red locks, and her primal nature is much like my own at its core; an angel fused with the soul of a demon. I know in my heart that she manipulates and deceives, that she has no honor and is despicably slothful, but I also know that she is one person against whom I cannot seem to effectively guard myself. Her presence does not even feel as intolerable as that of other angels and demons... a small discomfort that part of me gladly suffers to subject itself to her seductive deceit.
I hate her! She must die! But I desire her, and cannot seem to resist the urge to vainly strive for her approval. Perhaps I would be better off simply avoiding her altogether and spare myself the pain... although with her, even the pain can be pleasurable."

Soren Novák ~ (☠) ~
"I am patient, Novák... very patient indeed. You have been at the Carnival for a very long time, serving Seil faithfully and with all the wickedness that befits your accursed kind, but I have only been here for little more than half a century of the millennium I have agreed to serve here. I will continue to be here for a very long time yet, little demon, and I know your kind; sooner or later you will want even more, and your ambition will finally urge you to break free from your bond with the Carnival, and believe this oath: the very minute you are no longer under the protection of the Wish Master, no amount of immortality or hardening of limbs will save you from my righteous fury.
If I am to be completely honest I probably cherish Novák in some way, but I would never admit that, least of all to myself. He is someone that I can hate unconditionally, and he is someone who is very powerful, a truly intriguing opponent to contemplate fighting. A clash between him and me would be a battle worthy of ballads and legend! Would I be strong enough to smite him despite his elusiveness and immortal durability? Would he be strong enough to slay me even through my skin and armor? Would I be able to catch him, and would he be able to escape my grasp if I did? Ah, what a glorious fight it would be, and a worthy death should I fall..."

Pachid Coyotas ~ (◑) ~
"A strange creature, this Coyotas... in and by himself I do not find him too disagreeable. I find his laziness and lack of honor lamentable, this is true, but he is not so bad for a vampire. Intelligent and observant, too; I think he would be a valuable ally to have on my side when the time comes for battle.
If only he was not so deeply loyal to that wretch, Soleviel..."

Reira Masin ~ (☺) ~
"Miss Masin... Reira. She is new to the Carnival, but already I like her. An attractive human woman, such a fragile creature, she is weak of body but strong in spirit; she is willing to betray her own morality for the sake of her beloved brother, to brand others for collection, yet fiercely holds on to her convictions. She is a kind soul through and through; I may have considered her kindness and naivety a flaw in anyone else, a weakness that they were pathetic for being unable to overcome, but she tempers her compassion with sheer determination. She is as good as any angel I ever knew, yet with the will to stoop into the darkness to protect that which she holds dear...
How will she ever collect so many souls in the short life of a human, especially when she refuses to brand anyone who has yet to pass their second decade? I will help her if I can, and protect her from the evil of the Carnival. And... this is one person that must never see my other self."

Stefan Bostock ~ (◑) ~
"The information broker... I do not care about him, in truth; not enough to hate him, at least. He is a despicable, treacherous little weasel, but I have no secrets for him to steal. And should he provoke my ire... really, he is no threat to me. He may be strong by human standards and be able to become incorporeal, but I am stronger; I need but to land a punch before he can dissipate, and my victory would be assured. His knives cannot hurt me effectively, and in my true form my mobility is even greater than his.
No, he is no threat to me, though he may be a threat to those close to me... but as long as he does not hurt them and continues to potentially be of use to me, I shall simply let him be. He is not even worthy of my disdain."

Ty ~ (◑) ~
"It is very interesting to observe an air elemental such as she, I think, and her countenance does provoke vile thoughts brought forth by my demon-blood. Her tongue is as sharp as her blades, though, and honor seems a concept entirely alien to her. It seems like she simply does not care... but I was there when she joined the Carnival, and have witnessed the change that has overcome her over these past eleven years. I still remember that wide-eyed little girl who marveled at the Carnival, who only wanted a place to belong; a desire I can relate to easily, I think. I cherish the memory of who she was, but I am not sure I like who she is becoming. Hopefully I can shield her a little from the darkness of Seil's contract that she may retain some of the person she once was.
I have known her for a long time and definitely count her as an ally, but I cannot help but to wonder if this will last. The darkness of the Carnival seeps into her soul... if only I could help her."

Imalia ~ (◑) ~
"Another one that I cannot fully comprehend, even though she came to the Carnival only several years after myself. Her personality seems erratic, somehow; when she does not know that she is being watched, she seems so much different from when she has company. But I both heard of and seen how she kills, and I must confess that I genuinely fear her. Not only will drowning end me even if she cannot pierce my skin, but I would never expect her to turn against me until after she had done so, and I never know if I act by my own free will around her or by her influence. And how my demonic side yearns to get more closely acquainted with that naked form of hers...
I cannot trust her, for I feel that doing so would be the end of me, but I cannot bring myself to treat her as an enemy either. I must be cautious; my skin may be tough and my power can protect me from flame, but to her abilities I am all but helpless. At least I can rest in the knowledge that should she ever prove an enemy, it would only take touching the glass of her tank to freeze the water in which she resides solid. She may be dangerous, but I have to remember that I am also dangerous to her."

Jing Lao ~ (◑) ~
"It is... a man? I find this inexplicably terrifying beyond anything else I have experienced since I left Urbaniel. He is new, so I do not know much about him yet, but from what I've seen thus far he seems like an agreeable sort, I think.
I would like to know him better, but... is it really a man? I am so confused... I think I prefer him as a spider."

Elynne Meidre ~ (◑) ~
"Dreadwraith... I had heard of such a thing before Meidre joined the Carnival, as far back as in my days as a warden of Urbaniel, but she is the first one I have actually encountered. I am not sure what to make of her, though... my instincts tell me to fear her, as I am all but defenseless against her abilities and would be powerless before her in battle, but some other part of me cannot help but to feel as though there is nothing to fear from her. She could kill me easily, certainly, and steal my strength for herself as old stories tell of her kind doing, but in lack of something more concrete all I can say is that I do not sense any harmful intent in her. And her wish to be free from her curse? Was that not a goal that was, at its core, similar to my own?
I do not think that she is an enemy, nor that she is liable to ever be one. I can only hope that she will be an ally, but thus far I simply cannot know."

Antoine ~ (◑) ~
"By all that is holy and unholy alike, I have never felt my blood running as hot as when I heard that we had been joined by the golden angelslayer himself, last of the Anterioria! My brethren fought many of his fellow demons in trying to stop them from leaving Urbaniel, and many of my brethren died in those battles, at least several that I know of by his hand before he went to fight the other angels. Oh, I have chills just thinking about him and what he has accomplished... I do not fear him, however; I admire his power and skill. He is a true warrior, one even greater than myself and one against whom it would be a tremendous honor to test my prowess against, even knowing that I would most likely lose, as he is said to be impervious to anti-demon weapons. At least I know that his flames, even if they are the dreaded Hellfire, cannot burn me, just as I know that I cannot freeze him.
I do not judge him by his past, however; I left the vanguard of Urbaniel when I came here, and all the tartarus angels he killed were before even my time. I wonder about him, though... for he does not seem like the monster we were told stories about by our elders. Why is he here? I am curious. Besides, if his mastery of fire is truly as great as his legend suggests, we could collaborate to make a glorious performance for the Carnival indeed."

Llewelyn Rorch ~ (◑) ~
"...Who? I have not heard of this man. Is he with the Carnival?"

Angoriel ~ (☠) ~
"Sadly I must confess that I hate myself and what I am; everything about myself, both my angel and demon halves, are an abomination. Did you know that my mother told me that my name means 'Angel of Pain'? Why must I suffer like this? Why must my fate be to one day fall and crawl in the filth with the other demons?
Ah, but I am who I am and must make the best of it... honestly I have no idea what to do with my freedom once I have it. I want to slay Seil and his minions, but I know that I do not have the power to do so. Maybe I will try... if for no other reason, then just because Seil can destroy me."

Sarah Hiddle ~ (♥/☺) ~
"Another angel, possibly the most beautiful in the Carnival, and so very young... and not so pure as to her presence being overly painful for me, either. Ah, I am much too old to covet a creature such as she, even if the demon in me desires to claim her anyways, against her will if necessary, but she is such a good and fair person. I have seen how the years here have affected her, and it pains me deeply... I want to help her, to protect and shield her.
Ah, if only I was not several times her age I might have truly desired to court her, but alas such a thing would be altogether unrealistic the way things are. The most I can be is her friend, it seems."

Jassessi ~ (◑) ~
"I, uh... I think that... I mean, she is... infuriating, quite frankly. But I guess she is rather... innocent? It is hard to keep up with her when she talks, as her words and thoughts run so much faster than my own, and she is so erratic that I cannot seem to fully grasp just why she does what she does. She seems so curious and helpful, but it seems like she gets in the way a lot. I do not think she truly realizes what happens here at the Carnival in the first place. She acts as though it is all fun and games, and not a hellish place filled with pain and darkness...
I am worried what Genvieve is convincing the naive little creature to do, though..."

Genie ~ (◑) ~
"Ahem... A werewolf girl, yes. I like werewolves. As for what she does at the Carnival, she... well, she and her so-called sisters, they are... eh... There were those of a similar profession in Urbaniel, and they were very popular, but we were forbidden to go near them. I... she... oh my.
I had better keep my distance from her and her sisters, lest my demon-blood ends up making me do something that I will regret later... and knowing her, I have no doubt that I would regret it dearly and for a very long time."

Robin ~ (◑) ~
"A creature unlike any I have seen before, this Robin; I have heard of necromancy, of course - I spent most of my life in Urbaniel after all, surrounded by all things dark and sinister - but Robin is different from most undead, somehow. I rather enjoy being around her most of the time, but I suspect that is only because she intentionally make her presence enjoyable. When I watch her conversing with others it seems as though she is a different person than she is when she chats with me... it is unnerving to say the least, and because I know that the version of her that I consider a pleasant companion is not the only one, I find it difficult to actually trust her. How can I, if she becomes someone completely dislikable to me when she speaks with someone else? What about when she speaks to Soleviel? Novák? Or even Seil?
I wonder if there even is a 'real' her, although maybe there actually is not; I do not know how the necromancy animating her works, so maybe she is incapable of anything but imitating those around her. She is neither ally nor enemy; she is simply another employee of the Carnival."

Jayce ~ (◑) ~
"Sometimes after I have encountered Jayce, more often without directly engaging him than when doing so, I find my thoughts occupied by him in private as I ponder his nature. It is one thing for him to be a cross of angel and demon like myself, albeit with some faerie mixed in there too, but for him to be so without suffering the same drawbacks that haunt me is what has me puzzled. Watching him I see that he possesses traits from either side of his legacy, yet they do not appear to conflict in him as they do in me, but rather find a natural middle ground. Perhaps his nature is similar to mine, only whereas my psyche has fragmented, his is fused, and as my true form has merged the opposites into one, his physical manifestation differs between natures. I have three parts to my consciousness - good, evil and rationality - just as he has pink, red and purple winged forms. Perhaps this man has the secret I need to find balance within myself? If I master the other elements, will I find peace in the Twilight, too?
He is not a bad person and occasionally worth a laugh, but I think I may envy him. For him to have roots that run so close to mine, yet be lighthearted while mine is heavy with the burden of my blood... part of me loathes him for this. It seems that he is quite taken with Ty, too; maybe he can add shed some light upon the darkness seeping into her soul."

Welcome! Welcome to De' Seil Carnival!

Yes, I could just join later... but when I did that last time it didn't quite feel right that Angoriel had missed the important events up until then, especially since he is supposed to have spent over half a century at the carnival already. One post a week does sound pretty manageable, though. Hmm...
Tell you what: if I am permitted to do so I would like to try joining now, although I will issue a warning that times may come during which I may not have the mental reserves to post immediately after it becoming relevant for me to do so. I don't know, to be honest; I don't exactly know what to expect from university at all beside of it supposedly being a harder study than any other I have been through so far. It may be that I end up being pleasantly surprised and the workload I find there isn't as great as I fear it will be, but I prefer to expect the worst and hope for the best.

With that said, the time has come for the reemergence of Angoriel.

Angoriel

Appearance:

Picture

(For the appearance of the head only. Angoriel's facial hair is only about half length of that depicted in the picture, however, and his eyes are azure.)

Standing an imposing 6' 5", Angoriel is of a naturally masculine and well-muscled build, being wide-shouldered and broad-chested both due to a hereditary tendency towards such an appearance and due to vigorous physical training. His hands are unusually rough-skinned and he has numerous pale scars on the front of his fingers and the palms of his hands, which appear similar to burn-scars. These scars are also present on his shins, stomach, chest, shoulders, sides and back, though the skin there is not as hardened with toil as that on his hands, and the scars there generally do not run as deeply.
During performances Angoriel has found that displaying his scars usually has a strong effect on the audience and instills a degree of certainty in them that the danger in his act is real, and so he wears nothing more than a pair of back knee-length trousers, going bare-chested and bare-footed; he will however tie up his hair in a little ponytail during performances, just so that it won't get in the way. Outside of these he has come to somewhat enjoy the fashions of Earth and likes to wear suit-pants in either gray or black, white shirts and either a gray sports jacket or a black vest. He usually goes without socks, but wears black Oxfords, and likes to don a gray fedora. If he knows that battle is soon to come, however, he will almost certainly forsake any of these clothes (possibly leaving on his leg-garments) and wear his armor instead, as described in the Belongings-section.

True appearance: Most of Angoriel's true appearance - that which could be compared to a demon's vilest aspect - is reminiscent of his human self, though certain rather extreme changes overcome his human features that transform them into a monstrous mockery of their usual form. For one thing all of Angoriel's hair-growth turns black instead of brown, and his skin turns ashen white, so pale that the blue of his veins stands out clearly through his skin. The only exception to this is the area immediately around his eyes, marking the outline of his eye sockets, which instead turns dark crimson. His irises also turn bright yellow, and his tongue grows by about half its length and becomes inhumanly pointed like that of a lizard.
His more obviously inhuman features are also those that makes him more powerful and dangerous in his true form than at any other time, however, these being the transformation of his arms and the emergence of his wings. As an angel Angoriel possesses wings similar to those of his kin, feathered and with an impressive span of nearly twelve feet, but unlike the common angel's feathers, Angoriel's are tainted black by his blood and sins. And as a demon, Angoriel's arms are warped and grotesque to behold; they grow significantly longer, with the upper arms alone increasing their length to 1' 8", the forearm extending as far as 1' 4", the palms of his hands coming to measure eight inches across and the length of all of his fingers more than doubling, adding another eight inches, bringing each of his arms up to a total reach of 4' 4". All the various parts of his upper appendages also become notably thicker, sturdier and stronger with this mutation, and each of Angoriel's fingers grows an inch-long jet-black hooked claw.

Full Name: Angoriel

Age: Appears around thirtyish; the actual duration of his life measures an uncertain number of centuries, somewhere between a half and a whole millennium.

Gender: Male

Species:

Tartarus angel

Although outsiders might arbitrarily name this species simply dark angels, this is what their peculiar bloodline of celestials have come to call themselves. Although they are akin to most angels upon coming into existence, the longer their lives drag on, and the more they fulfill the duty they are born into, the greater the difference between their breeds becomes. Their task is to serve the archangel Uriel, aiding him in his role as guardian, although the tartarus angels' specific charge is nothing less than Urbaniel; here they act as keepers of the realm, ensuring the continued imprisonment of those sentenced to such in the Underworld and at the same time deliver punishment to the damned souls.
Their actions and their presence so near the border between Urbaniel and Limblel have their own corrupting influence, but this is only part of what causes them to differentiate. What truly sets them apart, and what qualified them for their grim trade in a realm so far from where angels normally wander, is their very lineage: tartarus angels is a breed produced by their progenitors, Samael and Lilith; an ancient archangel and a primordial demon. As a consequence of this, these angels come into being with naturally low purity that enables them to move in the vicinity of demons with less likelihood of being recognized as what they truly are, and the chances of discovery grow only slimmer as they live, work and corrupt themselves. Another sign of their bloodline is that their form possesses twisted features reminiscent of the alternate manifestation of demons; features that may be concealed the same as those of angels can - or transformed like a demon's can, depending on how you look at it - , but which will be revealed along with their angelic traits.
Tartarus angels remark themselves by being neither particularly pure or corrupt, thus not offending sensitivities against such things, while they at the same time are severely affected by extreme purity and corruption alike themselves and can only be at peace in the company of those who are neither. This also places the powers of Light and Shadow beyond their grasp, limiting them to commanding only the elements, and although they possess the resistance to damage that is common among angels and demons, tartarus angels are somewhat affected by iron, though not as much as a true demon. Though they are impure they are not fallen angels; tartarus angels can also fall, and will inevitably do so and delve into their demonic nature if they observe their duty in Urbaniel for long enough.

Level of Contamination: Horrendous; though Angoriel is not yet truly corrupt, his being is far from pure either.

Level of Glow: None; Angoriel lost his glow along with his purity.

Ability to Blend: Decent; with no glow to worry about hiding, Angoriel can focus his efforts on concealing his true appearance and assuming a more human exterior. His disguise tends to fail whenever he experiences strong emotions, however, resulting in the emergence of his hidden traits.

Most Used Power: From this angel's soul flows the chill of death and the cool of breeze alike, for Angoriel's greatest affinity is one that spans many elements; cold. Lowering temperatures is a basic, yet frighteningly potent ability, as substances condensate and freeze and life becomes and impossibility. Be it to cool a beverage or soften the heat of the summer sun, or quell flames or solidify a being's blood in their veins, cold is the power that is most commonly exhibited.
An ability that derives from this power of cold is the one for Angoriel to make himself impervious to fire by cooling his skin to unusually low temperatures. The downside of doing this is obviously that as long as Angoriel maintains this resistance to heat without him actually being subjected to a dangerously hot environment, he is simply making himself incredibly cold, the detrimental effects of which he is not impervious to.
He also possesses some mastery in manipulating water and air, though this power is secondary to that of cold and mainly obtained due to these being the most common conductors of this.

Significant/Special Belongings: His old equipment from serving as keeper of Urbaniel, consisting of an iron cuirass, a pair of leather gauntlets, a pair of iron greaves and a curious weapon unique to the tartarus angels, which is a forty-seven inch iron pole with three sharp hooks protruding from the end at a 120-degree angle to one another (like this). Aside from this his only notable possession is a small "stone" that is continuously changing its shape, size, mass, color and hardness; a souvenir from Limblel.
The purpose of the cuirass and greaves is actually two-fold, as not only does it offer an additional layer of protection on top of his naturally steel-hard skin but also continuously burns him for as long as he wears it due to his intolerance to iron, causing him lasting pain wherever it is in direct contact with his skin; this is also the cause of his burn-scars. It is not because Angoriel enjoys pain that he does this, but because the armor prevents tartarus angels from accidentally reverting to their true forms even during heated combat, particularly since the back of the cuirass will act as an agonizing obstruction to the emergence of his wings, the halting of which will negate the transformation altogether. The gauntlets are obviously not meant to protect his hands from external threats in combat, since his skin his much more durable than leather, but to shield his hands from his own weapon, since its iron will also burn him at direct contact, potentially making it very difficult to wield the three-hooked pole properly.

Fighting Skills/Techniques: Having trained only in fighting while wearing his suit of armor, adding an additional layer of protection to his already highly damage-resistant skin, this remains the only way that Angoriel knows how to fight. Although he obviously cannot wear his armor during everyday business at the Carnival - nor can he comfortably carry his weapon with him, either - Angoriel manner of fighting is extremely offensively oriented, with near-complete disregard for his own well-being. When unarmed he is liable to try to move in as close to his opponent as possible; with humanoids he will savagely pummel the other with all of his considerable strength, focusing his attention on head and abdomen, while his legs are used mainly to try to lock the other's legs in place or at least causing the other to trip if it tries to move, or alternatively by directing a sweeping kick at the other's legs. Against more bestial opponents Angoriel is more likely to attempt to grapple his adversary, preferably maneuvering himself onto the other's back from where he will then either wrestle the other to the ground or strangle it, if he is able to do so.
When armed with his three-hooked pole, however, Angoriel prefers to delay his own attack until his opponent tries to attack him, first. During this time when the other likely lowers its defenses and leaves itself prone, he will use the pole in a way much similar to how one would use a more traditional hafted weapon, letting the heavy hook-head carry the momentum of his swings. He will try to anchor one or more hooks in the other's flesh, optimally lodging a hook behind the other's shoulder blade, a rib or lodging them into an armpit. Upon achieving this he will usually pull on it relentlessly, leaving the opponent vulnerable to his possible allies' intervention and otherwise just prevent it from performing any further attacks.
Obviously these primary modes of attack are unlikely to actually defeat an opponent (unless the opponent has a human level of strength and durability, in which case even these attacks are likely to kill it) and are meant mainly to distract, disarm and impose movement of his adversary. But at the same time as he is doing the aforementioned things, if Angoriel actually intends to kill his opponent, he will exert his power of cold over his opponent and thus progressively weaken it and eventually kill it.
This is all in his human form, of course, and while this is how Angoriel will usually fight, there are times when he must fight as his true self, in the event of which he discards all pretense of humanity and surrenders to his demon-blood. With all the strength he possesses in this state, Angoriel is liable to brutally assault his opponent with his claws and otherwise engage in a fighting style solely reliant on his vigor, his mobility and his reach.

Weapon of Choice: His three-hooked iron pole, the weapon of tartarus angels called hampol.

Job Title & Description: The Fireproof Man
Although Angoriel obtained regrettably few skills during his time as a soldier guarding the borders of the Underworld suitable for a Carnival-performance, he has found that it is quite possible to shock and impress most audiences simply by demonstrating his ability to endure the touch of flame, though obviously he would not reveal to them that he uses his power to make himself impervious to their heat for as long as he stands amidst them. The exact details of his act vary a little from one performance to the next, although one act is rarely much different from the last, as he struggles to find things to do that is suitable for his purposes. His most common acts are those of walking on burning coals, leaping through rings of fire and often failing intentionally, as well as generally just exposing himself to naked flame. He will often feign stress or pain at the various parts of his act to make it impact the audience more strongly, although the likelihood of him actually getting hurt by it is almost nonexistent as long as he has the protection of his powers and durable skin.
Beyond this he will usually help a hand wherever such is needed provided that he does not specifically dislike the one requiring assistance.

Number of Souls You Have to Collect: 500000

Number of Years You Have to Collect Souls: A thousand years.

What Was Your Wish?: For the tartarus angels to be freed from their gruesome occupation and gain the freedom to choose their own fates.

How Many Souls Have You Collected?: 22416

How Long Have You Been at the Carnival?: Fifty-six years.

How the Collection of Souls has Affected Your Character?: Although he believes that he has not been affected by this grisly task due to him being used to the similarly dreadful duty of tormenting damned souls, Angoriel ultimately truthfully say that it has not changed him. While he consciously still regards his victims with detached indifference and rationalizes the action by thinking that he is used to doing much worse, and that the people he is doing it to probably deserve it anyways, he is in fact haunted by it more and more with every day he spends at the Carnival. Angoriel was originally convinced that all the creatures but angels were vile things indeed due to him having only seen those of them condemned to walk Urbaniel, but being at the Carnival and seeing more and more of the other species has taught him otherwise, and as his understanding of other beings deepens, so does the weight of the thousands of souls he has already collected. He has started having nightmares about the people he has branded, or in a few cases downright murdered, and his hesitation in doing what he must to fulfill his contract with Mr. Seil grows with every acquaintance and friendship he makes.
But while Angoriel can mostly convince himself that he does not care about those who fall prey to him, he cannot feign indifference towards the act of collection itself. His loathing toward treating souls like a commodity or a collectible, and of aiding a demon in doing so nonetheless, grows only stronger as time goes by and his regret of his own actions deepens.

Personality: Painful as such a cliché is to make, it remains a defining trait of Angoriel that he is inflicted with a terrible duality in his mind, and is driven by the benevolence of his angelic blood and the malevolence of his demon blood alike, and suffers from this internal conflict almost constantly. He often thinks long and hard before he speaks of acts, trying to sort through his instincts and emotions to learn whether he should act upon one of them or stick to being strictly rational and disregard the choice between purity and corruption altogether. This is often the case, and although he is an inwardly highly emotional person who is strongly affected by what others say and do - often in several different ways at once - he usually try to outwardly hide his feelings and the distress these cause him behind a facade of logic.
Although he is trapped between the influence of good and evil, Angoriel wants and tries to be a good person in many cases, and while he is hardly the sociable sort and never one to voluntarily join large groups of people, he enjoys talking to people whose presence he can actually tolerate and will go to great lengths to help those he considers deserving of such. He is easy to anger, however, and while he does not give in to his ire easily and almost always attempts to suppress his rage rather than give in to it, he becomes more and more impulsive and reckless the angrier he gets, and thus grows increasingly liable to turn to violence. He is a very patient man as long as someone is not doing something that Angoriel is particularly opposed to, however, so unless someone is intentionally trying to anger him or is doing something unusually cruel, his irritation will usually stay on manageable levels.
While he does not see eye-to-eye with all of the other people at the Carnival he does feel kinship with them due to their common bonds, and so he will often go out of his way to help or comfort even people he does not particularly like as long as he can even be in their presence at all without suffering major discomfort from this. He believes strongly in honor above all and admires people who act with honorable motives and cherishes innocence, but at the same time scorns weakness and naivety. Although he would not readily admit so to anyone he genuinely enjoys fighting, and finds it particularly exhilarating if his opponent seems to be stronger than himself.

Biography & How You Came to be a Member of The Carnival?: One would think that when your father is one of the oldest and most powerful of the archangels and your mother is a primordial demon and nearly everyone else around you are only descendants of those who were your siblings that you would receive some kind of special treatment among your kin, that you would be regarded as superior somehow, as the prince that you really are, but alas, no such luck for a tartarus angel, for among the homeless angels who bear the demon blood within them there are no princes or peasants, no early or late generations, and never any special treatment; all are tartarus angels, brothers and sisters to each other and either strangers or enemies to all others. This was the only birthright Angoriel received when he came forth from his parents' unholy union as their umpteenth child, and was given to the care of his brethren immediately, never even knowing his parents' faces or voices. He was born, and then he was thrown into Urbaniel, to be trained as a soldier to serve Uriel as a keeper of the Underworld.
And this was the only life Angoriel ever came to know. He was trained as he grew up, never knowing a true childhood, and then he joined the ranks of his brethren in fighting demons and fallen angels, and in tormenting damned souls. It was a task that discouraged thinking and feeling, that pushed the self into obscurity and left only duty, which was probably why so little of note happened during this time. Angoriel could not even tell you if he spent five hundred years just fulfilling the task he had been given, or if it was actually a thousand years; keeping track of the days in Urbaniel was difficult in and by itself, shrouded in eternal darkness, and when each day is the same as the last, time loses all meaning. He never thought much about what he was doing back then, and never desired anything else, because this was the only life he knew.
The truly remarkable things that happened during this time of his life were few and easily recounted, and left memories sharper than any other in Angoriel's mind. His first unusual experience was when he was still in his youth, still convinced of his own invincibility and easily influenced of his greedy and spiteful demon-half, when he as many other tartarus angels had before tried to run away from his duty and escape his fate by fleeing into the lands beyond the borders of Urbaniel; Limblel. He had heard the tales of others who had tried and failed to make their way through this hazardous realm but had been convinced that he was the exception, that he could best the ever-changing nesting ground for nightmares when no one else could. Obviously he was wrong; barely had he crossed into Limblel before he realized just how much worse this realm was than Urbaniel. To this day he has been unable to recall what exactly happened back then, for all he remembers is flying back to his brethren, chilled to the bone and pale as a ghost, with his eternally morphing stone clutched in his hand. The cold fear that pierced his heart that day stayed with him ever since, and even now Angoriel is filled with intense dread at the very thought of going near Limblel.
The second notable step forward in Angoriel's life was doubtlessly the day he first heard tales of a demon who lived outside of Urbaniel, married to an angel, who lead an entire small army of misfits from all across the realms bound to his will through infernal contracts. "The Wish Master", they called him, supposedly capable of making any wish come true if one was to pay a price of servitude and souls. Although Angoriel's initial reaction was the same as that of his kin - namely the derision against those weak enough to rely on others felt by a person who has been brought up to thinking that you either live strong or die weak - the thought of the Wish Master stuck with him, tempting him, as it doubtlessly did many others if they heard such a story. Not that Angoriel ever thought that he might one day seek out the Wish Master and sign such a contract - he was a demon, after all, and thus the sworn enemy of his kind - but the idea of any wish potentially coming true was too enticing to simply put out of his mind.
And then, finally, came the day that derailed the life Angoriel had lived for monotonous centuries, for upon this day one of his elder sisters, one who was a dear friend of his, disappeared... and just several days later she returned, claimed wholly by corruption and given to the evil she had spent her entire life fighting. Seeing one of the few people in his life, and one he cherished nonetheless, having fallen despite only ever serving her purpose faithfully tore away the veil from his eyes and made him realize that this was the inevitable fate of his kind as long as they were bound to serve. How many of the demons and fallen angels they had fought, he wondered, were his own kin who had run out of time and succumbed to the taint of their blood and deeds?
This realization was what finally made Angoriel question his life, and like rings in the water the revelation spread through his awareness, sifting through his memories and making him see them all in a different light. Unlike most of his brethren Angoriel was not resolved to continue his duty for as long as he could; he would gladly give his life out of loyalty, but he could not accept sacrificing his purity for this vain task. He remembered the Wish Master then, and understood that now he finally had a wish that was worth servitude and souls to make come true; to save himself and his brethren from this gruesome destiny that was forced upon them from the moment of their conception. And he had been to Limblel and survived, as few of his kind could claim to have; he was confident that he could find the Wish Master.

So Angoriel deserted his duty and traversed the realms until he found Mr. Seil - or maybe Mr. Seil found him - and the contract was signed. As it turns out, it is much easier to forfeit one's freedom once one has realized that one has never been free. For fifty-six years now Angoriel has been with the De' Seil Carnival, collecting souls, performing as best he can and serving the Wish Master, but he has only just begun to serve the time he traded for the freedom of his family.

Sugary poison.

Welcome! Welcome to De' Seil Carnival!

I'm somewhat arguing with myself whether to attempt joining this and actually get to play as Angoriel, who only barely got introduced in the first version... I'm worried that I might not be able to keep up with this and my own RP at the same time, as I will be a university-student come the week after the next. I might risk it just for the entertainment and distraction it would be worth.
We'll see.