Dark Jack

De’ Seil Carnival - Soul Collecting Carnival

Oh, that's even handier! I'm sure that'll be/have been very useful to Angoriel. Thank you.

De’ Seil Carnival - Soul Collecting Carnival

Ah, well that's handy. Hmm... One last question on that subject for the moment: does the decoration, resizing and refurnishing happen only when the potion is opened, or is it a continuous effect that will make the interior progressively adapt to the inhabitant's wishes? And if it's the former, is every resident given only one of these potions during their time at the Carnival, or can they be allowed more of them over the time of their stay?
I'm only asking since Angoriel has been at the Carnival for over five decades and came there straight from his life as a soldier in Urbaniel, so obviously his preferences when it comes to living quarters have changed since then, as he's gotten used to the other realms. So whether he has to live in what he preferred when he joined the Carnival or can change it to more recently acquired tastes is going to affect how he actually lives.

De’ Seil Carnival - Soul Collecting Carnival

Yes, congratulations on your pregnancy; you sound like you're happy about it. And I, too, am here.
I did read that my character was accepted - I even posted it in the thread with accepted characters shortly after it had been so - and have mainly been waiting due to hoping that someone else would post first, and that an opportune moment might arise for me to introduce Angoriel in. I was also arriving at the conclusion that perhaps waiting was not the best course of action... I will try to see what kind of post I can compose relatively soon.

On a slightly different matter, what kind of dwellings do the residents of the Carnival have? How large would these be and what kind of furniture would be in these abodes by default?

The Prophecy

She is so close, so powerful... I wonder if she can sense us all the way out here, even though we are miles and miles away? I would not be surprised; there has not been a single necromancer since the founding of Rodoria that could even begin to compete with her mastery and power. Maybe she could even contain the Withering indefinitely, or cure it altogether? I'm a lesser necromancer compared to her, and I have managed quite well. How would she fare against Hazzergash's unleashed self? Maybe she would be our only chance... there are no magi in Rodoria who could challenge her.
Interesting as they were the real reason Gerald pondered such things was mainly to keep his anxiety at bay, because even now he could not seem to erase the image that had been etched into his mind; the sight of the distant Tower of Night, the heart of the Black Tribunal's domain, hidden past the rooftops and walls of Pelgaid City, standing in the center of the great swirling darkness that spread upward and outward from it, turning the sky black and shrouding the land in perpetual shadow. No matter how much Gerald tried to look at things rationally, that sight still filled him with an unfounded dread. In there was Delian Gilmah, the most powerful sorceress and lich Rodoria had ever known, along with her league of necromancers and horde of undead minions, surrounded by some of the people in the world who hated necromancy the most... Even now as it had been hidden from sight past the formations of rock that surrounded them he could still see where it was, as the rays of the setting sun drew a neat outline of its dark aura.
Luckily Renold said that this was not where they had to go, or even the warlock might have lost heart before he went there. The dragon had suggested that someone he had once known was apparently an expert on all things dark and sinister, and that if anyone knew of the Withering and how to end it, it would be this acquaintance. He would like to speak with Jillian before they ventured any further, though, and for them to have a chance to recover their strength, and Renold said that they should wait here for a while anyway in case Crone managed to escape the Anaxim Forest and caught up with them.

He did not look up from where he had been staring all of this time - the ground directly between himself and their campfire, where unusually black shadows danced mesmerizingly with the flickering of the flames - before the witch started coughing violently, which was the most reaction they had managed to get out of her since their flight from the forest. Even then he only raise his gaze slowly, his face cast in shadow by his hood, as he turned his attention to her in time to witness her roll over and vomit, and then continue to struggle with herself. He remained where he was and said nothing, and simply left her to it; there was nothing he could do for her anyway, and the way she had reacted to things thus far suggested that she was a prideful woman who would probably not appreciate him paying too much attention to her current somewhat humiliating state. Besides, she had brought this onto herself.
It took a little while of waiting before Jillian recovered enough to become aware of her surroundings and notice him, at which point she spoke a name with which he was not familiar, likely momentarily mistaking him for this 'Vince'. Gerald did not find this particularly insulting, though; it was quite common to be disoriented after having been as magically exhausted as she had been, and it was really a miracle that she was able to speak at all... although Gerald somewhat doubted that deities had anything to do with this particular miracle. He had also observed that the deterioration of his own body had reversed significantly faster this time than any time in the past during which he had drained himself so much, and when he had taken a moment to restore the illusion that concealed his Withering he had been shocked to see that the graying skin was actually peeling off around the edges of the contaminated area, revealing healthy skin underneath. He did not have any definite evidence yet, but his main theory was that it was an effect of the natural energy of Anaxim, causing their bodies to heal faster than they ordinarily would. He had no idea how long it would last, but he could not imagine it would be long; in time the energy would adapt to their souls and lose any unusual properties, but for now it seemed like a rather useful and unexpected benefit.
Jillian proceeded to apologize for mistaking his identity - that she realized her error so quickly was a good sign - and corrected herself, and then assured him that she felt worse than he could possibly comprehend. He could not help but to smile grimly at this, curious as to whether she gave any thought to who she was talking to when she made that declaration. Not only was he a magus, one who had also been young, impulsive and reckless once, before his life had shown him how dangerous the world really was, but he was also a bearer of the Withering, a plague that continuously sapped his soul. In the months immediately after he had contracted the plague he had been constantly on the verge of death from magical exhaustion as he had just barely managed to contain the Withering, and with it constantly weakening him it had taken immensely long time before his energy had somewhat recovered. He knew very well how terrible she felt right now, and he sympathized; she may have brought this onto herself, but she had still done so with good intentions... considering the circumstances, at least.

Which was why he was expecting her request for something to drink, nodded his head in silent confirmation when it was voiced and turned to his left, where a pewter cup stood on the rock beside him. It was already full of water with little brownish dried leaves floating around in it, and if one looked into it from directly above one would notice an arcane glyph etched into the bottom of it. He did not have a pot or kettle to boil the water in, and since he could not very well just hold his cup into the fire to heat it, he had to resort to magic. He only reached his hand forward so that his fingertips touched the edge of the cup, let his magic flow and spoke the word "Dregoth," and a faint red glow appeared in the depths of the cup, heating the water to the point of boiling in a matter of seconds. Immediately its acrid smell filled the air, but Gerald was used to it and simply abstained from breathing through his nose as he picked it up and went to his ailing ally.
"It tastes bad, but drink it anyway," he told her as he knelt besides her, carefully handing her the cup, handle turned towards her. "It lubricates your throat, clears your airways and calms your stomach; I keep it with me specifically for times like this."
His gaze wandered briefly, checking that the Green was still fast asleep on the opposite side of the lake - his posture oddly tense for someone sleeping, his head still raised to just above chest-level, with a general posture that someone from Earth would have recognized from the Egyptian sphinxes - then his amber eyes returned to her, staring at her intently. "You are safe; you can relax. We are in Pelgaid. We lost the battle."

The Prophecy

The lieutenant spoke in a slightly frantic, but very demanding manner when he asked the question, and yes, by my count only the three guards were attacked and the two of them are dead (writing "blankets or sheets" was really more of a reference to Jaelnec not being immediately able to tell which it was than there being variation in what was used).

De' Seil Carnival Characters & Relationship Thread (Exclusive & Private)

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 impede 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.

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.

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 adore 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 has 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."

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..."

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."

Crow ~ (☺) ~
"Now this girl, I like her! Beautiful as a human and beautiful as a wolf, with a righteous fury burning in her heart that excites my blood and adoration for those that others consider inferior that I can only applaud with all of my soul. Even if she is a tad bestial my demon-half approves of this, and her protectiveness and loyalty to the creatures that follow her is admirable. How I loathe what Seil did to her, taking away her past like that... She even refused to believe me when I tried to remind her of what I knew she had forgotten. Another sin for Seil to answer for.
I wish that I could help her, but in the meantime I am only too happy with having her company. It will be a sad day when she is no longer with us... and it is a deep wish of mine for her to regain her freedom before this occurs."

Celleci ~ (◑) ~
"Oh woe, why did this creature have to come to the Carnival? So beautiful she is, with purity that makes part of me swoon even as my other half is driven back at a distance to be able to withstand its burning luminance. And her reason for being here is so like my own as well, having her freedom of choice taken from her by the laws we must follow. But I was an outcast, a soldier left in shadow with only my kin by my side as we fought eternally in darkness, and she was cherished, fought gloriously in the light and earned the loyalty of an army. Her path lead to taking the mantle of an archangel upon herself, whereas mine would lead only to falling. I cannot stop myself from resenting her for having all of these things that part of me thinks should have been mine... not that it ultimately matters, as I cannot stand being near her regardless.
I stay away from her, for I am perhaps more conflicted about her than anyone else. I love and hate her, admire and detest her... ah, but her weakness is what I loathe the most. For one who wore the title of archangel to not even have the strength to collect a measly seven souls is a mockery of everything I believe in. But she is so beautiful, and her tale of her lover - her female lover - excites my demon-blood in horrible ways. How I must guard myself around her... it is exhausting."

Calista Luinaree ~ (☺) ~
"Poor Luinaree, always looking over her shoulder and never able to believe in the good of others' hearts. Naivety may be an unforgivable weakness, but complete lack of trust is an even greater one, for how can one expect to fight alongside others when you do not believe in your comrades? How are others to rely on you when you cannot bring yourself to care how your actions can affect your allies? I wish I could bring back the vigor I saw in her when she joined the Carnival, I wish she would trust me... and I wish she would dress a little more appropriately. It is hard enough to keep my demon-half at bay even without her flaunting her womanly attributes.
All I can really do is try to reassure her, to guard her when I can, but I doubt that she will ever trust me."

Ari Glitterskip/Red ~ (◑) ~
"I am... conflicted, although this is perhaps far from unusual for me, but nevertheless this creature makes me say it yet again. Is she a child? She is a faerie, and I do not understand this species, it seems... and I understand children even less. My kind never know childhood, so seeing her playing with her dolls, drinking from empty cups and ingesting copious amounts of candy is all very confusing to me. Her pranks are infuriating, though; I cannot help but to fear that someday she will make me lose control, and I may tear her limb from limb before I regain control of myself.
I am wary of this... Red, as she insists to be called, but I do not think that I dislike her. She merely confuses me. I would like to attempt a joined performance between the two of us one day; her dominance of fire and my ability to withstand it would make for an excellent show."

Vol ~ (☠) ~
"Vol. Vol. He cares only about himself, manipulates others to his whim, regards the collection of souls with detestable indifference and basks in unabated carnal pleasure. Had he been a rapist and murderer as well he would have been easily as bad as Soleviel. I can understand his desire for freedom, but even such a thing can be taken too far. How can one possibly want to be free from one's own heart?
I will not let him manipulate me if I can help it, and come a time when I am no longer bound by Seil's rules Vol's would be the second head to roll, right after I had torn Soleviel's heart from his chest."

Eikki ~ (◑) ~
"Dreadlight, he calls himself... A merman. I never even heard of such creatures before I left Urbaniel, but here he is, and has been for even longer than I have. His lantern is dangerous, even to me, so I suppose his name is apt. You would think I had formed a stronger bond with someone I have known for as long as him, but he does not seem to want to form any kind of bond, to be honest... and I am not sure that I would like to know him, even if he did. He has done some quite terrible things, yet I do not sense malice in him. Is it Seil who pulls the strings, I wonder, or is Dreadlight truly such a fickle soul?
I do not know what to make of him, truly, even after all these years. I will be careful around his lantern, but otherwise he is just another one serving the Carnival, and both a potential ally and enemy; only time will tell."

Nalia Armstrong ~ (◑) ~
"I have not had the chance to meet this new arrival just yet, but even from afar I can see that she is a pretty girl. I can only pray that she will not stay long enough for me to see the woman she might become; my demon-half does not need another temptation."

Nathan Armstrong ~ (◑) ~
"Another newcomer I have not personally met yet, but... a human child? At the Carnival? How I hope that the day will come when you meet your end, Seil, and I hope your end will be as gruesome as the fates you have bestowed. I just want my wish, then I should personally lead the crusade to wipe you and this Carnival from the realms."

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 have 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."

The Prophecy

Ah, I see what you mean now. The soul serves exactly no purpose at all in the body except allowing it to toggle its functions "on", as it is merely a condition to make life possible in the first place. Nothing in the body's functions requires magical energy, and left to its own devices the body would consume no magical energy on its own, either (the mind would passively waste small amounts, but not the body). Rather than trying to make sense of the soul as an energy that exists within the body, it would probably be more sensible to view it as a second body within the body; an incorporeal copy of it, one could say, that simply happens to occupy the same space in the Planes as one's physical body does. The soul can exist and function without a body, as seen upon death, undeath and dreaming, whereas the body can only be alive when occupied by a soul; thus injuring the body will usually not harm the soul, but when the soul is weakened the body... well, in lack of a better way to describe it I'd say that it tries to alter its own condition to match that of its soul in order to remain compatible with it. Careful usage of magical energy will thus only leave the body feeling weak and fatigued, but not actually do any damage to it, but recklessly spending it will start to leave the soul "incomplete", which the body responds to by slowly disassembling itself.
...Or something like that, I think.

The Prophecy

Well, generally you will actually expire a while before you manage to empty your store of energy due to one or more parts of your organism failing with your progressively worsening health, and while this will result in a specter due to your severely weakened soul at the time of death, you won't actually die from complete magical depletion. The details of how you die will differ, but it's safe to say that at least one vital organ will have suffered critical failure. It'd take some very special cirumstances to truly remove all the energy of a body - not counting the Withering, since it is bound to the soul rather than the body and will keep draining even after the body has died - like a sudden immense loss of energy that somehow removes all of your energy at once, leaving only a shred of soul too weak to cling to its body. It's an interesting detail to think about, though, because the body won't actually deteriorate from this beyond obviously being clinically dead and lacking lifeforce; if a new lifeforce was introduced into such a body, similar to how a lich moves its lifeforce to a phylactery, before the consequences of death became irrevocable and it was restored to decent health, the body would actually live on as the host to its new soul without any medical drawbacks aside from those that may come with its new soul itself. One lich could occupy the body of another immediately after this had vacated its own body, for instance, and live in it as comfortably as it would its own body.

And oh yeah, happy Easter. Hottest day in Denmark this year yet; it's really starting to feel like proper summer's-coming-soon spring is here.

De’ Seil Carnival - Soul Collecting Carnival

Well I suppose they could have, even if Angoriel is a half-breed and far from a first son, let alone first child (his father was Samael, by the way; Uriel was only his lord and master). It would also pretty much have required that CeCi had gone on a trip to Urbaniel at some point, since Angoriel never left there until he went in search of the Carnival. Which I guess she might have?

De’ Seil Carnival - Soul Collecting Carnival

Ask and you shall receive.

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 impede 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.

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.

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 adore 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 has 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."

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..."

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."

Crow ~ (☺) ~
"Now this girl, I like her! Beautiful as a human and beautiful as a wolf, with a righteous fury burning in her heart that excites my blood and adoration for those that others consider inferior that I can only applaud with all of my soul. Even if she is a tad bestial my demon-half approves of this, and her protectiveness and loyalty to the creatures that follow her is admirable. How I loathe what Seil did to her, taking away her past like that... She even refused to believe me when I tried to remind her of what I knew she had forgotten. Another sin for Seil to answer for.
I wish that I could help her, but in the meantime I am only too happy with having her company. It will be a sad day when she is no longer with us... and it is a deep wish of mine for her to regain her freedom before this occurs."

Celleci ~ (◑) ~
"Oh woe, why did this creature have to come to the Carnival? So beautiful she is, with purity that makes part of me swoon even as my other half is driven back at a distance to be able to withstand its burning luminance. And her reason for being here is so like my own as well, having her freedom of choice taken from her by the laws we must follow. But I was an outcast, a soldier left in shadow with only my kin by my side as we fought eternally in darkness, and she was cherished, fought gloriously in the light and earned the loyalty of an army. Her path lead to taking the mantle of an archangel upon herself, whereas mine would lead only to falling. I cannot stop myself from resenting her for having all of these things that part of me thinks should have been mine... not that it ultimately matters, as I cannot stand being near her regardless.
I stay away from her, for I am perhaps more conflicted about her than anyone else. I love and hate her, admire and detest her... ah, but her weakness is what I loathe the most. For one who wore the title of archangel to not even have the strength to collect a measly seven souls is a mockery of everything I believe in. But she is so beautiful, and her tale of her lover - her female lover - excites my demon-blood in horrible ways. How I must guard myself around her... it is exhausting."

Calista Luinaree ~ (☺) ~
"Poor Luinaree, always looking over her shoulder and never able to believe in the good of others' hearts. Naivety may be an unforgivable weakness, but complete lack of trust is an even greater one, for how can one expect to fight alongside others when you do not believe in your comrades? How are others to rely on you when you cannot bring yourself to care how your actions can affect your allies? I wish I could bring back the vigor I saw in her when she joined the Carnival, I wish she would trust me... and I wish she would dress a little more appropriately. It is hard enough to keep my demon-half at bay even without her flaunting her womanly attributes.
All I can really do is try to reassure her, to guard her when I can, but I doubt that she will ever trust me."

Ari Glitterskip/Red ~ (◑) ~
"I am... conflicted, although this is perhaps far from unusual for me, but nevertheless this creature makes me say it yet again. Is she a child? She is a faerie, and I do not understand this species, it seems... and I understand children even less. My kind never know childhood, so seeing her playing with her dolls, drinking from empty cups and ingesting copious amounts of candy is all very confusing to me. Her pranks are infuriating, though; I cannot help but to fear that someday she will make me lose control, and I may tear her limb from limb before I regain control of myself.
I am wary of this... Red, as she insists to be called, but I do not think that I dislike her. She merely confuses me. I would like to attempt a joined performance between the two of us one day; her dominance of fire and my ability to withstand it would make for an excellent show."

Vol ~ (☠) ~
"Vol. Vol. He cares only about himself, manipulates others to his whim, regards the collection of souls with detestable indifference and basks in unabated carnal pleasure. Had he been a rapist and murderer as well he would have been easily as bad as Soleviel. I can understand his desire for freedom, but even such a thing can be taken too far. How can one possibly want to be free from one's own heart?
I will not let him manipulate me if I can help it, and come a time when I am no longer bound by Seil's rules Vol's would be the second head to roll, right after I had torn Soleviel's heart from his chest."

Eikki ~ (◑) ~
"Dreadlight, he calls himself... A merman. I never even heard of such creatures before I left Urbaniel, but here he is, and has been for even longer than I have. His lantern is dangerous, even to me, so I suppose his name is apt. You would think I had formed a stronger bond with someone I have known for as long as him, but he does not seem to want to form any kind of bond, to be honest... and I am not sure that I would like to know him, even if he did. He has done some quite terrible things, yet I do not sense malice in him. Is it Seil who pulls the strings, I wonder, or is Dreadlight truly such a fickle soul?
I do not know what to make of him, truly, even after all these years. I will be careful around his lantern, but otherwise he is just another one serving the Carnival, and both a potential ally and enemy; only time will tell."

Nalia Armstrong ~ (◑) ~
"I have not had the chance to meet this new arrival just yet, but even from afar I can see that she is a pretty girl. I can only pray that she will not stay long enough for me to see the woman she might become; my demon-half does not need another temptation."

Nathan Armstrong ~ (◑) ~
"Another newcomer I have not personally met yet, but... a human child? At the Carnival? How I hope that the day will come when you meet your end, Seil, and I hope your end will be as gruesome as the fates you have bestowed. I just want my wish, then I should personally lead the crusade to wipe you and this Carnival from the realms."

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 have 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."

Let me know if this one is unacceptable; I have another character concept as a backup, but I decided to go with this one for the time being. Eh, and I hate using pictures for characters... I'm so bad at picking them out.

EDIT: There, now the Hiders are working... Didn't even realize until now that you can't have hiders inside hiders anymore. Oh well, this will have to do.