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Adam Ruin

There is a god, but he is far from benevolent.

0 · 1,297 views · located in The Undermarket

a character in “The Multiverse”, originally authored by Lobos, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

Name: Adam Ruin
Age: Ageless
Sex: Male
Race: Angel
Sub-Race: Fallen
Aliases:Godling, Harbinger, Ruin, Adam
Eye Color: Grey
Hair Color: White
Complexion: Pale
Build: Lean, Solid
Handiness: Right-handed
Other Distinguishing Marks: Faint aura of white light hovering about him.

Image

Personality

Adam is a sort of enigma. None can say for certain how he'll react to something, or in what ways events will impact his psyche. He rarely speaks more than brief sentences, doesn't betray his thoughts with his body language, and sometimes seems simply soulless. But he has shown that he can be friendly when at rest and peace, capable of communicating in his own way. At the same time, he's shown to be utterly ruthless in times of conflict, usually achieving a forcible victory on his side. One thing for certain about Adam is that he usually gets what he wants.

Equipment

Saiyaku
Saiyaku is Adam's primary weapon, a sword that utterly dwarfs its wielder. It is an angelic weapon, one of those given to the destroyers among God's servants. As such, it possesses furious power. Adam can draw on several powers invested in the blade to use in battle, or use the simply overwhelming size and power it gives him to crush foes. It can unleash waves of holy energy at a swing, or righteous fire can sweep down its length to bolster power, among other, more subtle abilities.

It holds a secret, however. The massive edge most see contains a smaller, thinner blade. By twisting the handle, he can draw this wavy inner sword, which compressed the destructive power of Saiyaku into the thin edge. This smaller blade is called Hakaisha.

Godling
Adam has often been called the Godling, a testament to his extremely deceptive strength and endurance. His blade weighs over a ton, yet he slings it around as on would a regular two handed sword. He can take more punishment than most demons, given his stone hard skin and dense body. Able to leap incredible heights and move at astonishing speeds, Adam has well earned the name.

Celestial Robe
A malleable robe made of living material, Adam usually wears it as a traveler's cloak. But it is also an armor, a mode of transportation, and a weapon. Able to shift into the forms of what Adam needs, the robe will contort into the required object or equipment for use. As a side-note, the Celestial Robe is quite heavy, weighing about 500lbs.

History

Image

So begins...

Adam Ruin's Story

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#, as written by Lobos
Adam Ruin drummed his fingers on the tabletop, his other hand idly rubbing one of the large patches of scar tissue that knotted the backs of his shoulders. He couldn't say truthfully he really missed the wings, after all, swinging his weapon around made avoiding them a hassle. But there were times where they would have been useful. But he placed idle reminiscing aside for the time being, watching the various conversations and patrons with a lazy sigh.

For the most part, he appeared as a simple human. A torn cloak rested around his shoulders, concealing his scars, and gauze was wrapped around his hands and forearms like vambraces. But closer examination revealed a faint glow to him, an aura of soft white light. That and the iron-like quality of his flesh betrayed the Angelo within him, fallen though he might be.

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#, as written by Lobos
Adam Ruin drummed his fingers one last time, then heaved himself up and out of his seat with a sigh. Leaving the massive sword where it lie, he strode towards the counter to order himself a drink. Strangely, the cloak he wore did not seem to flare behind him like it should, instead hanging limply around his feet as he arrived at the counter.

A slight wave at the barkeep drew him over, and Adam spoke quietly, ordering a bottle of wine and a glass. He drew a small bag from within the cloak, tossing the payment on the counter as the man moved to get his order. Replacing the bag, he accepted the drink and glass with a murmured thanks, sauntering back to his own table.

Settling down, he shrugged the cloak off on the back of the chair, ignoring yet another groaning protest as the wood took the surprising weight. Setting his purchases on the table before him, he rolled his bared shoulders, sighing again as he did so.

Then Adam poured himself a glass, sipping as he returned to watching the goings on within the room.

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#, as written by Lobos
Adam Ruin had been resting his head on his chest for several minutes now when his eyes snapped open. He knew the scent of his pursuers perfectly now, and a long, hissing breath of irritation escaped his lips when he identified what had been sent this time. He brought a boot up and rested it on the table's edge, eyes narrowing in concentration.

Which was promptly rewarded, as he kicked his chair over backwards, rolling to his feet as twin blades of brilliant silver crashed through the wooden legs to rend into the floor. He gave the pair of angels a somber look, before he stepped forward almost impossibly fast.

Both of his armed pistoned out like hydraulic rams, his fists crashing into their chests with lethal hammerblows. The two holy warriors spat blood as their ribcages caved inwards at the force of the blows, reeling backwards a moment before their lives passed to the maker.

"I'm sorry, my old brothers. But your god should have warned you better..."

He sighed again, kicking the broken chair out of the way before pulling up a new one, draining the half empty glass that had been left on the table.

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#, as written by Lobos
Adam Ruin watched the two angelos as their corpses degraded into white powder, then shook his head and glanced around. The corner of his mouth twitched when he saw some small boy practically salivating, following his gaze to Saiyaku with a ghost of a smile. He opened his mouth to shoo the kid off, but closed it. After all, it wasn't like someone was going to just walk off with a sword that weighed, literally, a ton.

Pouring himself another glass of wine, Adam allowed himself a small chuckle. The two he had just killed weighed as nothing to his soul, for they were the fools who allowed themselves to be misguided by a tyrant who hid behind an awe inspiring name.

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#, as written by Lobos
Adam Ruin smiled thinly, leaning forward and grasping the overlong hilt with one hand. A rapid pull of breath, and suddenly the immense sword lifted off the ground and swung through the air, crashing down of Adam's shoulder. He hissed in frustration though, throwing his weight forward as he felt the chair splinter and crack beneath him. Catching himself, he straightening the huge blade resting lightly on his shoulder, held with one hand.

"That answer enough for you?" Adam said to Parson. He figured this was an easy enough demonstration, a simple lifting of the massive blade.

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#, as written by Lobos
Adam Ruin replied in a somewhat more subdued voice. "Just another traveler, fallen off the better paths..."

He doubted that Parson would understand exactly what he was, and what he still continued for. It was a harsh life, being one of the fallen. Harsher than most for him, given how much effort was being put into bringing him down. His title as Godling made him the target of almost constant attack, each trying to win a higher place in a corrupt heaven with the news of his death at their hands.

"Just another fallen traveler."

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#, as written by Lobos
Adam Ruin laughed heartily. He beckoned to the kid, setting the sword down as he dropped to one knee. Winking, he held out one arm, challenging Parson. "That might be worth my time. If you can even break my skin. Go ahead and try, with what I don't care. Try and make a scratch."

Adam smiled mysteriously, knowing the outcome of whatever Parson might try. Some might call this a cruel joke, but it was a way to disillusion people. And the fallen knew a lot of people needed waking up, lest they fall into the pit that his old brethren had.

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#, as written by Lobos
Adam Ruin chuckled, giving Parson a few parting words. "Well, I'll let you in on a little secret. I can do what I do, because I'm who they call the Godling. Super strong, super hard to hurt. But I got to get going, because that's why I get attacked a lot, by things that can hurt even me."

With that, he lifted his sword, and carried it from the bar.

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#, as written by Lobos
Adam Ruin strode into the bar, holding what at first seemed to be a long staff over one shoulder, then as he moved further within, that illusion was shattered. A massive crossguard and an even more mammoth sword was connected to the overlong hilt, the entire blade nearly fourteen feet long and colored a dark bloody crimson. A tattered white cloak was tied about his throat, and cold, gray eyes stared out at the patrons. Hair as white as snow topped his pale head, and an aura of angelic power hung in the air about him.

He carefully made his way deeper into the bar, finding the room to swing the huge sword into the wall over his table. Then he sat below it, lazily lounging in the booth as he watched those within with a blank stare of indifference.

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#, as written by Lobos
The front door opened, a tall, pale man looking about with silvery grey eyes. A white cloak hung tied at his throat, and when he leaned forward to glance behind the door it was evident he was bare chested beneath it. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he leaned back and started forward. There was the shriek of metal on pavement who's source became shockingly evident as he entered. The man was dragging a massive crimson blade, the hilt alone easily five feet long. As ridiculously sized as the sword was, the way he carried it passed along the sense that it might be that he knew how to use it.

Adam sighed heavily, spying an apparent conflict between an armored figure and an orc clan. He grumbled, finding a table off to the side and leaning the hilt on the top. The table creaked ominously as the full weight of the weapon settled on it, as did the chair the man himself fell into. He waved away a barkeep that approached, watching the conflict warily. He'd rather avoid getting tangled in a fight himself, but violence seemed to follow him.

"Help if God learned to take a fucking hint. What part of I quit does he not understand?"

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With a grunt mostly drowned out by a metallic shriek, Adam shoved the bar door open with the hilt of his massive blade. Rotating the thick bar in his hands twisted the wide crossguard to fit, the fallen angel dragged the overlong sword with him into the room. Scanning around, his expectant scowl faltered, settling instead into a faint amused quirk of a smile. Carefully, he maneuvered the weapon to a corner booth, gently settling the hilt on the table. It protested the one ton weapon's presence with an ominous groan, but like before, it held. For now.

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Starting at a voice, Adam's hands seized the hilt. Muscles bunched and then bulged, and with impossible swiftness, hauled the whole thing clear of the ground and swung around, leveling the wide point of the twenty-five foot blade at the speaker. Then held it aloft, unwavering.

Grey eyes stared coldly at Nobody, a faint etheric glow about Adam's pale skin. Bare-chested beneath his tattered white cloak, hundreds of scars, some large enough to cast serious questions about there origins, marring the surface of his skin. His gaze piercing, it was still several seconds before the point lowered to the floor. Again, with impossible control, leaving one to wonder just what was this man to wield such a weapon. Grumbling, he turned and rested the weapon once more on the table.

He barely spared a glance at the mist on the floor. Demons didn't try to fuck with him anymore. It was the angels he had to worry about.

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Sparing a sideways glance at Nobody, Adam shrugged before settling onto a chair. It groaned just as ominously as the table had, but when it held Adam tapped an order for a gallon of moonshine. It took a whole hell of a lot of alcohol to have a noticeable effect on angels, or at least the destroyers. "My fault. Startling me isn't the smartest thing to do."

His voice had an odd iron resonance to it. The quirk'd smile he'd had had vanished with the company, replaced by his customary scowl. Still waiting for his drink, he double checked the order, then tapped another option. Steel container. Glass was simply far too fragile for his hands.

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Not responding immediately, Adam made a fist on the table. When he opened it, there was a small pile of gold coins, which he fed into the slot on the order pad. "No. Thanks anyways."

A moment later a robot dropped off a heavy steel jug from which a muffled slosh could be heard. A faint lightening of his features was all the betrayal of amusement the fallen gave at the sight of an actual cork plugging the top. Popping it free with the lightest pressure he could exert was still enough to send it hurtling into the ceiling, where it exploded in a shower of light fragments that drifted down. His scowl deepened. Tapping the jug on the flat of the huge sword, he took a deep swig, gently lowering the container towards the table, dropping it the last centimeter or so. No sense in risking fate and collapsing the damn furniture.

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#, as written by Lobos
Demon. Adam followed his sense until he found Zekil. Leveling a cold, grey stare at the demon, the fallen angel watched impassively, simply hoping this was one of those who's realized that it was a fool's errand, trying to kill him.

Taking another deep pull from the jug, he willed the alcohol to start taking effect. Wistful thinking, he knew. He'd have to kill the whole jug to start feeling even a buzz. Muttering under his breath, the fallen bitched to himself. "Of course, I could be living a much higher life, but a certain deity has to get all apocalyptic and give me orders I don't like."

The massive blade seemed to resonate in sympathy with his thoughts.

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#, as written by Lobos
Lifting a hand towards Nobody, he'd just opened his mouth to answer when two pillars of light speared downward in front of him. "Shit."

Two golden lances stabbed for his chest, wielded by armored, winged angels. He grunted as they struck, but the next sounds came from his attackers, startled shouts as the angelic weapons had their points shatter against his seemingly mundane white cloak. With a sigh, he raised his eyes to meet those of the angels, thunder in those grey eyes of his. "You know, I would've thought you people would've got the memo before the demons did."

What happened next was almost to fast to follow. Adam sprung to his feet, shoving the broken lances aside with his bare hand. "Don't-" One fist hammered into the stomach of the right angel, shattering his armor and flinging him into the air. "Fuck-" The second strike was a vicious straight shot to the second's head, crushing helmet and snapping his neck with a sickening crunch. "With me!" He leaped and twisted, slamming one booted foot into the first and kicking him into, and then through, the wall. A loud crack and crash announced the first angel smashing through the building front across the street.

Adam sat back down as the dead angel within the bar dissolved into light.

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#, as written by Lobos
Fixing Nobody with a glare, Adam grunted, then turned back to his drink. There's nothing good in the killing of one's own kind. Even if I did tear my wings off. Pulling deeply from the jug, he sighed, the sound like resonating iron. If these attacks continued, he'd have to do something about it. If anyone else got hurt from it, the fallen angel was going to take considerably more serious action. The idea of slaying God seemed folly, but it was becoming more and more an attractive option with each passing day. And each dead angel returned to the foot of their true murderer, who insisted on sending them against him over and over.

Sickening, really. That who was worshiped as benevolent was in fact, as cruel as Lucifer.

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The fallen angel studied Nobody, as if sizing him up for one of his devastating punches. Then he half turned, and startlingly the cloak he wore slithered back from his shoulder, revealing a sunken scar on his shoulderblade. Where a wing once grew from. "For what I threw in their faces."

Then Adam's gaze dropped to the oversized weapon leaning on the table. Crimson colored, with a broken chain hanging from the end of the hilt. A weapon that added to his enigma, one he prayed he'd never have to use as it was intended again. Aptly named for what it could cause. Saiyaku.

"And for what I took."

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Nodding minutely, Adam took a deep pull of moonshine, finally draining the jug. Setting it away from him, the fallen remembered briefly what had happened. The destroyers had been assembled, him at their head. The strongest of them all. The Godling. Lord on High placing Saiyaku in his hands, the words resounding throughout Heaven. "I have grow sick of it all. Destroy it."

Snapping out of memory, the angel blinked, glancing at his sword. Eyes drifting, he surveyed the group of patrons that had grown with a scowl. Humans, vampire. Demon, and then it settled on Pluto, and halted there. What he felt was demonic tainted, but something about it...

Adam didn't like the look of him. Not at all.

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A loud thud came from the door as it swung open, revealing a tall, powerfully muscled man with what appeared at first to be a crimson colored staff slung over his shoulder. But as he walked into the bar he glanced to either side, the 'staff' stretching along behind him and becoming blade.

Adam might wield Saiyaku with apparently no effort, but the fallen angel felt ever last bit of weight of the massive sword. Careful to keep the edge angled up above most people's heads, he took a far corner booth before settling it down to rest the five foot hilt on the table slowly. The wood creaked, but held, and he nodded absently in satisfaction.

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