STATUS:
That isekai idea works until you take into account the advanced part and include things like AI, brain machine interfaces, etc. Knowledge can just be downloaded.
5 yrs ago
Current
That isekai idea works until you take into account the advanced part and include things like AI, brain machine interfaces, etc. Knowledge can just be downloaded.
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like
5 yrs ago
Some day's I regret setting foot in this site.
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5 yrs ago
What do you mean by added? Like to a PM or something?
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5 yrs ago
What the pog doin?
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5 yrs ago
Unless you love kids a little too much, then a prison sentence is what can be done about it.
Azrael calmly slashed the throat of the last werewolf that had been pestering him, his expression one of pure ice as he stared down at the sputtering mutt that was slowly choking on its own blood. Dispelling his quintessence, and taking a few seconds to adjust himself to odd currents of energy now churning throughout his insides, the fallen seraph turned away from the bloody scene and headed back to where he had last seen Velo and Raula, only to find the vampire gone.
"Hmph. How typical that a creature born of shadow scurries away at the first sign of trouble," he muttered, staring at the patch of ground she had once occupied, his eyes narrowed into slits. Granted, he couldn't exactly blame her for running. Her ultimate goal seemed to be very similar to his own, that being escape, and as such running would be the most logical course of action. That and hiding. Still the fact she had fled, even after they'd seemingly finalized their deal, irked him.
Not that there was anything he could do about it now though. So, pushing those thoughts aside for the time being, Azrael took some time to consider his next move. If he advanced alone then he was at major risk of dying since no one would be there to pull his ass out of the fire, but on the other hand should he travel with some other prisoner's, then he ran the risk of betrayal.
The situation was an indecisive one to say the least.
Azrael let out a low growl as the chamber gradually became a larger hive of activity. Of differing wills and desires, all lingering on the teetering point of uncertainty despite the solution being so close...
Then the exact thing he feared had finally come to pass.
The mutts had arrived, throwing a wrench into what would have been a smooth escape, or a smoother trip to the surface several miles above at any rate. Now he would have to waste precious time fighting off the mongrels, which only increased the chances of something else going wrong just as they were about to leave this decrepit pit. Still, there wasn't much else to be done save stand and fight. So, thrusting his arm out to the side, Azrael manifested his Quintessence for the first time in centuries. Giving the soul-forged blade a few experimental swings, he assumed a reactive and mostly agility based stance. One that would be perfect for weaving in and out of the mutts’ pack based patrols, letting him reduce their bristling and fouls smelling ranks into a charred, ashy, mess.
Moving off down the tunnel, the exiled seraph rushed towards the nearest pack of wolves-a group no more than four in number-each armed with heavily corroded short swords and daggers. Items that would be better off in a scrap heap rather than an actual battle. As he drew closer a plan of attack began to form within his mind. First he'd immobilize the leader, whom he assumed was in the front. Then he'd move onto the next wolf, casting the pack leader into one of its men in order to sow some chaos and buy himself some more room to breathe. From there he'd slice the throat of the next unfortunate hybrid to cross his line of sight, before moving on to either kill more with his Quintessence, or his deathly touch.
Quickly closing the distance, Azrael executed his plan, sending the lead wolf stumbling off into one of its subordinates with a swift kick to the side of its head, before going in to finish off the rest.
"Azrael," the fallen Seraphim said, ignoring her remark before turning his attention to the newest member of their impromptu group, a face he hadn't seen in centuries yet recognized nonetheless.
"And as for your offer, Velo," he went on, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets as he shot the immortal a knowing look. "As I have already explained to our vampiric friend here, I have no qualms with all of us joining forces. So long as it increases our chances of escape, I will partner with whoever I need to. That aside however, if you two are in agreement and have everything you need, shall we continue on our way?"
He turned away from the pair, gesturing towards the other end of the tunnel, pointedly ignoring the other monsters that had started to gather in the area. This was the first time in thousands of years he'd come so close to escaping this shithole and exacting his revenge on the humans above, and the last thing he wanted was to have his plans foiled by small talk.
Location: The Lagoon. Interactions: Raula - @Quasi.
Azrael crossed his arms as he leaned back against the rock and examined the woman from the shadows of his alcove, a bit surprised at just how little time it had taken for someone to wander by. Then again, given the circumstances, this was to be expected. No one had chosen to stay here, except for the mutts of course, so naturally the other inmates would be making their way to the Lagoon.
It was the only way out after all.
"The dogs are no friends of mine," he replied, shifting his attention away from his thoughts and back onto the woman. "I hate them almost as much as I do this place."
He gestures to the surrounding rock to emphasize his point.
"So you are not wrong in your original assumption. As much as it pains me to admit it, I too do not have a means of getting past the wolves, hence why I am standing here. But if you think the two of us can succeed where others have no doubt failed, then I will not refuse your offer."
Pushing himself off the rock, Azrael stepped out of the shadows and into the dim light of the tunnel, satisfied with how his plan was going so far.
"Before we put this idea of yours to the test, however, I would know your name. If not for courtesies sake, then at least so I may know what to put on your grave should the worst come to pass."
Azrael, in human form of all things, made his way through the murky and dimly lit stone tunnels that served as the halls of his ancient prison. He had heard the rumors same as everyone else. Rumors of upheavals on the surface. Of a catastrophe that caused humanities seemingly endless vigil over this place to falter, then fail, leaving the entrance wide open for the taking. Well... almost wide open. There were still the mutts to worry about of course. Normally he wouldn't be so concerned, but his exile from heaven had forced him to pay more attention than ever to the risks he took. Where before he could simply rely upon the celestial engines from which he was spawned to keep him so far beyond mortal kin that their strongest warrior was nothing more than a buzzing gnat when compared to his might, now he had to pick his fights more carefully. Now he-paradoxically-could be slain, even by lowly creatures such as werewolves.
Walking along, his footsteps the only sound to be heard over the din of drips and other natural noises one might expect to find in a subterranean system, the fallen seraphim of death ran his hands along the course cavern walls, as he had done many times before, wishing it was the warm flesh of his brethren's beloved pets he was caressing with the sweet kiss of death instead of lifeless stone. He sighed, reminding himself to be patient. His vengeance would come in time if he was careful, but not before he got out of here. And for that to happen the werewolves-those ferocious lupine creatures who had, for some incomprehensible reason, taken upon themselves the momentous task of guarding the entrance to the Abyss-had to be disposed of. The only question was how. There were his powers, of course, and his Quintessence, but would they be enough? He doubted it. From what he'd heard there'd been quite a few of them patrolling the area. More than he was capable of handling by himself, certainly. Stealth could work, perhaps, but he had never been too skilled in that. If anything he'd probably manage to take down one, maybe two guards at most, but not before alerting the rest to his presence.
Well, if his goals could not be achieved through stealth or direct hand-to-hand combat, then how would he see them done? The question was one that burned at the back of his mind like a coal with no means of extinguishment, yet it was one he was still required to solve. If he was to escape this place that is. Perhaps an ally would be of use? Although that begged the question of whom. While he had been stuck down here for gods knew how many millennia, he hadn't exactly gone out of his way to make friends or communicate with his fellow inmates. Something that was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it meant that when the riots started no one was familiar enough to remember his face, and thus incapable of singling him out as a target, and a curse because it meant he didn't have anyone on whom he could rely for support. Halting mid-stride, Azrael moved off into the shadows of a nearby alcove. Secluding himself within its umbral depths he began to think over his plan of attack while waiting for someone, anyone really, to pass by.
If he could not find any allies upon which to call, then perhaps he could wait for one to would wander by.
"Only two things are inevitable in this world, verily three. Death, taxes, and me."
"Trying to find value in humanity is like trying to find worth in the maggots that swarm over a pile of shit. To put it simply, you can't."
• Title: Malak (Shortening of his actual Arabic name Malak al-Mawt).
• True Name: Azrael.
• Age: Ancient. Although his actual time of creation is not known, it can be estimated to be sometime after the first couple of humans had started procreating and expanding across the face of the planet, as there were many other Seraphim of death and life in existence before he came along.
• Weapons:Dumah, the physical manifestation of Azrael's own soul-a technique commonly known as Quintessence Manifestation amongst angelic beings-which appears a flaming sword thanks to his intense hatred of humanities flawed nature that has the attributes of being both highly durable and extremely sharp. Two traits that have been greatly exaggerated by man in legend and myth to the point where many believe such objects are downright unbreakable or are capable of cutting through anything despite this not actually being the case. In reality Quintessence can be broken or even destroyed as each will gradually lose energy with use, tiring the being behind it, before finally dissipating. While this wouldn't be much of an issue for a non-fallen member of the heavenly host, as they can simply return to that eternal plane to regain their lost energies, it poses a much bigger issue for an exiled being like Azrael.
Since he no longer has access to his plane of origin, he must rely on his own energy. A risky proposition, for while it does replenish over time, it does so very slowly. Where a proper angel could replenish it in a matter of seconds with a quick trip, Azrael must wait minutes or even hours to regain his. This handicap has forced him to look for the most efficient and straightforward means of ending a battle, as an extended conflict would see him killed.
• Species Traits: Although he may only be at peak human levels when it comes to his human form, in his true form he is far more deadly. Despite his fallen nature he still retains a small portion of the might he used to have. While this is naught more than being borderline superhuman in some aspects such as speed and strength, it is still more than enough to absolutely obliterate your average human. Furthermore, while in his true form Azrael gains access to all of his limbs and can easily grab multiple opponents. A dangerous advantage as it lets him use his life extinguishing powers on more than one person at a time provided there is proper skin to skin contact. Additionally, no matter which form he is in, Azrael does not appear to age physically, nor does he seem to need food or drink in order to survive. He can still be injured however, and when cut will secrete a viscous black liquid that smells faintly of tar.
• Special Abilities:Quintessence Manifestation - As mentioned above, Azrael can summon a part of his own soul and convert it into a physical weapon for use in combat, in this case a flaming sword representative of his burning hate towards humanity.
Do note that Quintessence's can ONLY be manifested as weapons and nothing else.
Death's Embrace - Being one of the many Seraphim in charge of overseeing man's appointed time to die, Azrael had the ability to kill any human he wished with nothing more than a glance, but his exile and imprisonment within the abyss weakened this power significantly. Now it requires skin on skin contact in order to work, and even then he must use some of his own lifeforce in order to snuff out that of the person he is touching. This means he must rest just as he does after using his Quintessence lest he end up at deaths door himself.
This does not work on other supernatural beings or monsters obviously.
• Inventory: Nothing aside from the clothes on his back. Or whatever clothes happen to be on his back when he's not in his true form that is.
• Background: Spawned sometime after the first humans began to spread across the planet, Azrael was one of the many inhabitants of heaven to be created rather than formed from nothingness and random chance as the seventeen Archangels, and even the realm itself, had been. Made according to a series of exacting specifications written by the even older Cherubim, creatures in charge of the celestial machines from which all-well most anyway-new generations of angelic creatures spawn, he took to his role of death dealer with an air of solemn dedication.
Spending the next thousand years or more extinguishing the lives of humans whose ends were called for by the Archangels and writing down their names in his book, Azrael was able to witness the depths of mankind's depravity and wickedness first-hand, eventually becoming so sickened by it that he began to see humans as nothing more than crazed beasts who needed to be put down for the sake of all creation. And so he set to work doing what he did best...
Reaping souls.
He went forth and began collecting souls en masse. Living and dying. Old and young. Small or large, all humans were cut down and a massive sea of corpses followed in his wake. Seeing their brothers maddened state and the horrific actions he had committed, the other angels went forth and hunted the seraphim of death down, pinning him to the earth with spears of light before binding him in chains and dragging him back to heaven to stand trial. Upon meeting the council in the sides of the north, Azrael remained defiant, citing humanities various crimes and depravities as justifications for the crimes he himself had committed. Not buying any of it, the Archangels ordered him to be stripped of his connection to the divine engines and cast out of the realm.
Thus their will was done.
Azrael was stripped of his heavenly power and cast down into the abyss where he now lies in wait for the day the guardians of this place become lax, so that he may escape and lay waste to the world above, before exacting his vengeance against the ones who wronged him.
• Other: I imagine Heaven in this CS as being very techno-magical/techno-divine what with the celestial engines and all.
The Seraphim are not only restricted to life and death and many of them oversee a great deal of the laws that govern the material plane in addition to other things regular angels do not have the power to control. As for Seraphim of life, they are the ones responsible for, well, life or in more simpler terms, ensuring that human beings and other creatures actually make it out of the womb to begin with.
I have, thus far, four primary ranks for angelic beings in mind.
Archangels - The first and most powerful group of angels, they claim to have sprung forth from the unformed void itself. They also claim to be the ones responsible for the creation of the ordered universe, though this statement is debatable at best as there are many things in existence that shouldn't be if what they're saying is true.
Seraphim - Second most powerful rank of being in the heavenly realm, these creatures are the ones who oversee the various workings of existence lesser angels are unable to. Azrael is a part of this group.
Cherubim - Third most powerful rank of being in the heavenly realm, the Cherubim can best be described as divine engineers. Existing long before many of the Seraphim even, these are the creatures who are in charge of the celestial engines that are currently responsible for the creation of all new angelic beings, in addition to being the ones in charge of engineering projects within the realm in general.
Angels - Fourth most powerful rank of being in the heavenly realm, angels are the lowest ranking and least powerful entities among the host. They often serve as agents or messengers who act on behalf of those higher than them, going to and fro upon the world and within heaven. As an aside it should be noted that they are still far more powerful than an ordinary human, but when it comes to other supernatural entities they are most often the underdogs.
If you're wondering where a Horseman of The Apocalypse would fit in, then I myself would say somewhere in between Archangel and Seraphim, but that's just my personal ranking.
What Azrael's Quintessence looked like before his fall is not known, although it was most likely a blade of light or something similar.
Banned
