Damien Mikhaile's Story

Just an ordinary night in Exedan and Damien was heading home after a night at a local bar. The streetlamps showed off his odd features which consisted of a Black and Gold Classical Dress Suit, his red eyes glowing in the darkness, and his Grey hair giving off what almost looks like a halo. He had just gotten a small amount of wine for a self celebration for his invitation to come to a restraunt and play his violin and get paid for it. He has played in many places with his violin before, but this is the first time he is getting paid for it, in Exedan that is, and beyond that, it would be on his 2000th birthday. Couldn't get much better than that. He was also going to head to his place so he can change into his combat attire for his nightly patrols. Crime never sleeps and neither does justice.

Not long before he headed out of the bar and started down the street, he heard screaming in the far distance. Even with his Demon sense of hearing, he wasn't able to make out what was being yelled, but he knew it wasn't anything good. Damien quickly opened up a void portal in front of him and started into it and appeared what seemed to be close to the screaming judging from the distance. He stared up one way and saw where a sign saying "Roger St." which was the street he was on. He looked up the other way and say another sign indicating another street as "Orchid St." Damien scratched his head of grey hair wondering where to go when he heard a masculine yelp of pain come from Orchid Street. He ran down to the source of all of this commotion and turned to see a risquely dressed woman with her dress half ripped and an angry crying man. His Demon Smell made it clear that the man was drunk. Damien didn't want to hurt any one of them more than they already were, but there is one thing Damien can't stand: any man who would lay a hand on a woman with intentions to hurt her. Anger stared to well up in him as he approached the two. Closer up the man looked like he couldn't see, and he was swinging his fists blindly. Damien cracked his knuckles, reared his fist back, and punched the man in the center of his face, knocking him back about five feet before landing on his butt. No use using magic or his powers on scum like him. He got up, cursing, before he turned and ran down the middle of the street with a bloody nose and burning eyes. Damien got a sinister satisfaction from watching the man flee in terror. He is, after all, still a demon. He turned to the woman lying on the ground and he shook her shoulder, hoping to wake her up. Up close, she was indeed a beautiful looking young lady.

"Miss, are you okay?" He asked while shaking her shoulder lightly.

Jon watched the whole scene from one of the roof tops he was hoping the man would kill the women so he could take both of there souls. He licked his lips with hunger he was hungry and unlike his demon brethren he fed by souls he was unique for his kind he is the only demon who uses souls for magic as well as for feeding. While he did grow stronger by absorbing souls from the dead he only gained little from weak souls such as normal humans only in a coupe of hundred years did he find a soul that made him significantly stronger his favorite soul being Jack the Ripper. Jon watched as a demon rescued the human Angel traitor abandoning his own kind to save a race such as humans. He looked at the demon on last time and noticed it was Damien "Damn fool he was a good its sad to see him choose the wrong race to safe." with that Jon followed the drunken man to the mans home. He watched outside for a while before going inside to harvest the soul. He went in and out the process took less than a few minutes. Looking at the tomb Jon decided now is the time to return to his resting place and look at what needs to be done.

Victor took a deep breath, he always enjoyed the night air. The breath was his break and he quickly returned to his training regiment. He sprinted from rooftop to rooftop at full speed, anyone who looked at him would have seen nothing but a blur. But during the middle of his run he heard a woman scream, ever the gentlemen, Victor went to take a look at what was going on. By the time he got there the woman was unconscious and a man was running away with a bloody nose. Before he could check on the girl he saw a man who appeared young but had gray hair, run down the street and to the girl, attempting to awaken her. He felt that the woman was safe with this new man but he would be back to this place in the morning to check on her. silly humans always causing trouble for themselves he thinks to himself. His training has been interrupted and he can't return now, so he takes yet another inhale of the night air and decides to relax the rest of the night. Spending a good chunk of it in a high class bar in the nicer side of town, drinking a nice well aged scotch, but not drinking too much and ensuring his reflexes weren't dulled. After his scotch he heads home. Home was a small but comfortable apartment in one of the nicer parts of town. Every room was filled with books on demon's and their history with humans. Any floor, table and shelf space that wasn't filled by books, was filled by his notes. He was close to finding his brother's sword, he could feel it. It was in the city, but as far as where to look he didn't have the slightest clue. Maybe it's time to meet up with the Angels and work with them for a while again he thinks, the work they would give him would give him an excuse to search city, as well as possibly find some demons to interrogate. After making his decision he heads to bed awaking early in the morning to prepare to find the Angels.

Arlette was in a void of darkness, but she could hear the groggy sounds of what was happening around her. She heard, what she thought, was another man's voice and scuffling around. Someone had come to help her? What a miracle. This city was tough, it was more of a dog-eat-dog kind of lifestyle, especially downtown where she was living. The sounds of footsteps closed in on her, and she inwardly winced. What if it was the man who had attacked her? She then felt the warmth of a strong hand on her shoulder, shaking it gently to ease her awake. Her lashes fluttered, and she groaned, sliding her arms beneath her to lift her torso up. She shook her head, as if trying to shake the pain away and glanced through her locks at the man who had come to her rescue. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise at the shocking vibrant red his eyes were. But she put it aside, and slowly brought her body into a sitting position, tucking her legs beneath her and rubbing her head where it had smacked the brick wall. A little blood stained her fingertips as she peered at them. It was only a small amount, nothing that would kill her. She looked back up to the face of the man, offering a twitch of her lips that would be considered a smile to her.
"Thank you. That was very brave for you to stick your neck out for me like that. Not many people would do that for a stranger." She said, as she slowly rose up to her feet, a hand on the wall for support. As she glanced down at the ground for her key, she noticed her shirt was still ripped down, exposing her bra. She blushed, quickly sliding it back up, feeling a little embarrassed. She may be a model who had to dressed in slinky clothes, but she still had her shyness intact off the set. She cleared her throat and her cheeks paled to their normal peach and then plucked her key off of the ground.
"I really appreciate your help. If I ever run into you again, I'll definitely buy you a drink." She rubbed her head again, "But I need to get going for now. Thanks again, really." She slightly bowed her head and then inserted the key, disappearing behind the door. She sighed, wobbling her way up the stairs, her legs still feeling like jelly from what happened. She would have to lay off the late night drinking for a while...
Making it into her apartment, she quickly showered, rinsing the blood from her hair and patching up any small scrapes she received. How drab her life seemed at the moment...but she refused to get depressed about it. Tomorrow was another day. Exhausted, she crawled into bed without bothering to get dressed after her shower, too tired to move anymore. One her head hit the pillow she was passed out, dead to the world until morning.

The sun beamed through her window, bright and fresh from just rising above the building across from her apartment. Her eyes creaked open, her hand shielding her face from the sun for a moment before she slowly sat up, a twinge of sharp pain coming from her head wound. Though It didn't stop her from getting up and beginning her morning routine. It was 6:12 by the time she was showered and dressed. She wore a red tank top, with a short pair of white exercise shorts. Her hair was swept up into a neat pony tail, and her feet were covered by running sneakers. Plugging her I-Pod headphones into one ear, she trotted down the stairs and out onto the street. It was so early barely anyone was out yet. She enjoyed that. A little bit of peace in the morning was always just what she needed. She jogged onward at a decent pace, going a few miles before slowing as she approached a small coffee shop. Grabbing one of her black coffee's, she put a few dollars into the tip jar and continued on her way. Walking this time as she sipped on her drink. More people were out now, starting their mornings as well.
She was now in the nicer part of town, and was walking down main street. She went a few more blocks before turning down a smaller side-street, walking up to a building that had big open glass panes in the front, so you could see what was happening inside. It was a boxing and exercise gym, with a smaller separate room for Karate. She smiled as she entered, seeing a few people there practicing. She quickly went to the locker room and wrapped her hands in bandages expertly, making her way back out to the gym. She immediately began her regime, starting with practice with the punching bag. Anyone could see she was skilled. Her movement were swift, yet powerful and precise. She knew just how to apply force where and when needed. If only she hadn't had those drinks the other night, she would have been able to pummel that asshole. Her eyes narrowed, and she couldn't help picturing the mans face who assaulted her, and started pummel the bag with punches and kicks, making the chain jingle that it was hanging by. Her ferocity showed in her expression, and a few people who were walking by the large glass panels stopped to watch for a moment as the passed by. She was well known for her skill, and even the men in the Gym were intimidated by her. She had proved her worth when her father had bought the building a few years back. She now has a few fans, especially the younger kids she would help train every Thursday. She always enjoyed working with children, since she had never had the pleasure of having siblings.