Here is a rough idea of what he looks like:
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Andion of Sparta
A warrior betrayed
0 · 511 views · located in 
Present Day
a character in “Dark-Hunters”, as played by MasterCherry
Description
Andion (pronounced Anne-dee-on) stands six feet and eight inches. His toned body is suntanned and muscular from years of Spartan training. His brown hair is dark and relatively short, and he keeps a well-trimmed beard/mustached combination that gives him a feral yet regal look. As a human his eyes were a cool, icy blue, very stunning, but as a Dark-Hunter they are the typical black. He wears dark clothes, most often black, to blend into the night.
Here is a rough idea of what he looks like:
Here is a rough idea of what he looks like:
Personality
Andion was raised as a fierce warrior; it was in the Spartan blood to be tough and ready for battle. However, though he was as fierce as any other Spartan soldier, he had the ability to just be a regular man. He could turn the edge off for is wife and kids and even a few allies. Many of his Spartan brothers joked around with him and called him soft, but they all knew he could take them down if he wanted to.
It was this softness in him that allowed him to be betrayed. One of the first things that Spartan boys learned was that friendship was a weakness and everyone could turn on you. Andion liked to see the good in people despite it clashing with everything he had ever been told. He should have listened.
When his best friend betrayed him, Andion shut himself off from the world. His belief that everyone could be good was torn out of him leaving him with the lonely life of mistrust. There is only one man he trusts, and that man is Acheron Parthenopaeus, the man who helped him after his rebirth as a Dark-Hunter. Andion barely even talks to his Squires and only speaks to other Hunters on the website if he has to.
He would never admit to this, but he wants someone to restore his trust in others. He wants someone to return his soul.
Equipment
Andion enjoys using any type of blade to slay the Daimons he hunts. He particularly likes the retractable knives hidden up his sleeves, and the boot-toe knives in his shoes which come in handy when his hands are full. He also has an array of butterfly knives. He still has his sword from his Spartan days but it stays, well-kept, in a vault in his house (which could pass for a mansion. He has to have something to do with all of the money that Dark-Hunters get paid). He also has a collection of guns that he has gathered over his many years as a Dark-Hunter, but they are too noisy for his sensitive ears and really they're just a lot of trouble. Stabbing a Daimon in the heart is much more satisfying than shooting one from a distance and hoping to hit the heart. So, blades work just fine for him.
He has a thing for cars, has had a thing for automobiles since they were first invented in the seventeenth century. Andion has had his fair share of fast cars over the years but his favorite car, one of the few things left that makes him happy, is his matte black Ferrari 599 GTO. He has a Porsche and a Lamborghini but nothing compares to his Ferrari.
Here's a picture of it:
History
Andion was born 505 B.C.E. and was killed 480 B.C.E.
He showed great military promise at a very young age and quickly became a rising leader. At the age of sixteen he married Ilythia, a blonde beauty who was four years older than him. Two years later they had their first child, a son name Elias. After another two years they were graced with Sappheire, a beautiful baby girl with blue eyes like his. A lot of Spartan men would have been disappointed with a daughter but he spoiled her whenever he could.
When he was twenty-five years old, with a seven year old son, a five year old daughter, and a baby on the way, he was one of the happiest men on earth. He loved his family and he loved his life; he made the foolish assumption that nothing could ever go wrong.
He wishes to this day that he could have seen it coming, that he could have realized his mistake.
His best friend Ophion, an older man, had been crippled at an early age. However, his father was a great warrior and he worked hard so he wasn't treated to the same fate as other "weaklings". Ophion has a drinking problem and often got angry but Andion enjoyed his company and advice when he offered it. The man was convinced that his crippling injruy had destroyed his life, and Andion thought he was justified in his bitterness when he showed. However... Andion never picked up on the jealousy, on all of the anger and bitterness that was directed at him.
If he had had a true Spartan spirit, he never would have called Ophion his friend, never would have trusted him. He wouldn't have been caught by surprise and found his pregnant wife, dead, on their bed. He might have been able to stop Ophion from holding his precious children tightly by their hair, saying horrible, angry things as they cried. He wouldn't have been shocked frozen at the terrible scene in his bedroom, and he might have been able to save himself.
He might have been able to save them...
When Ophion drove the sword through his gut, wrenching it painfully, it was almost a relief from the torment racing through his heart. He could feel himself fading away, but he wasn't fading fast enough. The relief from his grief lasted only a second before he felt it anew. When his final few breaths finally left him, he didn't think he shed another tear.
That's when he heard it. His own soul screaming in such pain, such sorrow, with such a vengeance, that the goddess Artemis appeared before him. A beautiful red-head, she offered him a chance at revenge and he took it gladly.
Henceforth, he was and will be a Dark-Hunter under the servitude of Artemis.
So begins...
Andion of Sparta's Story
- Seen 11 Times • Page 1 of 1
Andion tried desperately to move his aching body.
Please... no... Please...
He could feel the warm wetness spilling from his stomach; he could smell the awful stench of his own blood. Every breath he took was harder and harder to take, but he had to move. He had to move even if every fiber of his being was begging for him to stop, begging for him to just lie down and let it end. He wanted to yell and scream but he knew that he'd never be able to get enough air through his bleeding lungs.
His vision began swimming as he drug himself across the floor. He had to make; he had to.
No... No, no...
He ached all over his body, and it felt like every drop of blood that spilled from his wounds was an acid that burned and stung him. But that massive burn was nothing like the one he felt when he finally reached his destination. He tried his best to sit up and pull the still warm bodies close to him. He didn't want to let go. He couldn't.
It got harder and harder to breathe; his eyesight was greatly hindered by large dark spots, but he could clearly see the dead bodies in his arms. The still so small bodies of his precious babies. Elias, his son, who always made him laugh, who was always trying to be brave and strong. And Sappheire... So small yet so beautiful, so bright and wonderful.
No words could ever describe the agony.
His wife was gone too, and the child that he never got to meet but that he loved greatly. Everything was gone.
Suddenly, he heard something from behind him. That wasn't right. Everyone was dead. He was about to be dead!
"It's your fault we died," a soft voice whispered, but it was like the words were yelled right into his ears. "Because you weren't there for us. We died."
Wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake up.
"Why didn't you protect us?"
With a start, Andion sat up in his bed, drenched in sweat. He ran a hand over his stomach, feeling the firmness of abs and not the emptiness of an aching wound. That damn nightmare felt more real every time he had it.
He could tell that the sun was about to set, not needing to confirm it with a watch or clock. One of the perks of being an immortal hunter, an inner sun dial. There was no way he would go back to sleep after that, he never could. So, even if he had a good hour or two before it would be safe for him to go out hunting, he would get ready and train or something. After two-thousand plus years, he was an expert at killing time.
After working out for a while he deemed it safe to leave his home. He got dressed in his usual all black attire, black pants, black boots, a fitted black tee, and a long black trench-like jacket that was excellent for concealing weapons. He grabbed the keys to his Ferrari and headed out, parking in the middle of the city so he could do patrols on foot and never be too far from his car.
As he walked by the local bookstore he felt the recognizable pull of Daimons. He was glad that the bookstore should be empty at this time of the day because he spotted the Daimons and they spotted him. They ran into the store, and he chased after them.
Please... no... Please...
He could feel the warm wetness spilling from his stomach; he could smell the awful stench of his own blood. Every breath he took was harder and harder to take, but he had to move. He had to move even if every fiber of his being was begging for him to stop, begging for him to just lie down and let it end. He wanted to yell and scream but he knew that he'd never be able to get enough air through his bleeding lungs.
His vision began swimming as he drug himself across the floor. He had to make; he had to.
No... No, no...
He ached all over his body, and it felt like every drop of blood that spilled from his wounds was an acid that burned and stung him. But that massive burn was nothing like the one he felt when he finally reached his destination. He tried his best to sit up and pull the still warm bodies close to him. He didn't want to let go. He couldn't.
It got harder and harder to breathe; his eyesight was greatly hindered by large dark spots, but he could clearly see the dead bodies in his arms. The still so small bodies of his precious babies. Elias, his son, who always made him laugh, who was always trying to be brave and strong. And Sappheire... So small yet so beautiful, so bright and wonderful.
No words could ever describe the agony.
His wife was gone too, and the child that he never got to meet but that he loved greatly. Everything was gone.
Suddenly, he heard something from behind him. That wasn't right. Everyone was dead. He was about to be dead!
"It's your fault we died," a soft voice whispered, but it was like the words were yelled right into his ears. "Because you weren't there for us. We died."
Wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake up.
"Why didn't you protect us?"
With a start, Andion sat up in his bed, drenched in sweat. He ran a hand over his stomach, feeling the firmness of abs and not the emptiness of an aching wound. That damn nightmare felt more real every time he had it.
He could tell that the sun was about to set, not needing to confirm it with a watch or clock. One of the perks of being an immortal hunter, an inner sun dial. There was no way he would go back to sleep after that, he never could. So, even if he had a good hour or two before it would be safe for him to go out hunting, he would get ready and train or something. After two-thousand plus years, he was an expert at killing time.
After working out for a while he deemed it safe to leave his home. He got dressed in his usual all black attire, black pants, black boots, a fitted black tee, and a long black trench-like jacket that was excellent for concealing weapons. He grabbed the keys to his Ferrari and headed out, parking in the middle of the city so he could do patrols on foot and never be too far from his car.
As he walked by the local bookstore he felt the recognizable pull of Daimons. He was glad that the bookstore should be empty at this time of the day because he spotted the Daimons and they spotted him. They ran into the store, and he chased after them.
It had been a very long day for Melanie that was thankfully near its end seeing as how the world was now dark. Few customers had dared to venture into the little shop which left Mel's mind free to wander. It dreamt about far off places, swords fights and princes in disguise. Her own role in such things? Well that depended on her mood. Today she had choosen to play the helpless maiden. While the stories were typical, it allowed a more lazy approach to spinning tales. All she had to do was wait, as she did all day. The woman did move slightly, from leaning on the desk or sitting on a stool, but nothing that would be classified as action. It helped made her imaginated tale seem slightly more realistic and consistent. But, like when every new customer entered the store, her thoughts were put on hold. Seeing as how it was near closing time, Melanie had moved herself to the back of the shop to fiddle around with replacing some books in their shelves. It would leave her to stand in the far asile of the store.
Her light blue eyes set upon the visitor that passed by. It was a dashing young man wearing mostly black. It inspired a sly closed-lip smile on her pink lips as she examined him for a breif moment further. Mel imagined him to be part of some secret service - a spy maybe - that had disappeared into the store to hide himself for a moment. Although she was sure the door had opened other times, Melaine's attention was only set on this young man and his history. He was stubborn, she assumed, with a manly seductive skill present in an english accent. His dark hair would be pushed back when he talked with a wide toothy grin. Yes, the pieces were falling together. He was a smoker, but only after sexual acts which he often had with numerous strange women whom never knew his real name. His name to her? Johnathan Reid. His cover story would be that he was a business man who just got off work for a small telemarketing company a few blocks away. Would the fair woman believe him? Outwardly, yes. Inwardly, never. She would treate him like a normal stranger while secretly understanding his dangerous and wild life. It would give her the edge among all the other women in his life and cause him to fall for her like no one else. She would love him for his stories and need for adventure. His strength and passion only bonuses. That was a romance Melanie could live with.
"Hello sir. Are you looking for anything inparticular?" 'Perhaps a woman to fall in love with?' She echoed in her mind as her lips continued to wear their genuine smile. Melanie tried to keep her attention on his face but found it starting to wander down his outfit, seeking its crevices and layers to find some type of body lay out. He had to be extremely fit. But her blue eyes would dart back to his as she awaited an answer.
Her light blue eyes set upon the visitor that passed by. It was a dashing young man wearing mostly black. It inspired a sly closed-lip smile on her pink lips as she examined him for a breif moment further. Mel imagined him to be part of some secret service - a spy maybe - that had disappeared into the store to hide himself for a moment. Although she was sure the door had opened other times, Melaine's attention was only set on this young man and his history. He was stubborn, she assumed, with a manly seductive skill present in an english accent. His dark hair would be pushed back when he talked with a wide toothy grin. Yes, the pieces were falling together. He was a smoker, but only after sexual acts which he often had with numerous strange women whom never knew his real name. His name to her? Johnathan Reid. His cover story would be that he was a business man who just got off work for a small telemarketing company a few blocks away. Would the fair woman believe him? Outwardly, yes. Inwardly, never. She would treate him like a normal stranger while secretly understanding his dangerous and wild life. It would give her the edge among all the other women in his life and cause him to fall for her like no one else. She would love him for his stories and need for adventure. His strength and passion only bonuses. That was a romance Melanie could live with.
"Hello sir. Are you looking for anything inparticular?" 'Perhaps a woman to fall in love with?' She echoed in her mind as her lips continued to wear their genuine smile. Melanie tried to keep her attention on his face but found it starting to wander down his outfit, seeking its crevices and layers to find some type of body lay out. He had to be extremely fit. But her blue eyes would dart back to his as she awaited an answer.
Andion walked around the store carefully, quietly, so his movements wouldn't be as easily detected by the Daimons. He could hear something a couple aisles ahead, on the last aisle. He dropped his hand by his side which released a blade from the holster he wore beneath his jacket. He kept the weapon hidden as he approached the source of the noise.
Imagine his surprise when he wasn't met by a Daimon but by a woman.
She wasn't facing him at first, she was re-shelving some books. His eyes ran up the length of her legs, over a very nice backside, up a slender back and smooth neck. Her hair was pulled up, and he couldn't see her face, but his body certainly didn't mind at all. There was something incredibly attractive about this woman.
As he got closer he noticed how much taller he was than her, she couldn't have been any taller than five'four maybe five'five. A woman like her wouldn't have been very popular in Sparta because she lacked the warrior-bearing woman size, and she didn't look very strong, but Andion had always found petite women very attractive. His wife had been one of the shorter Spartan women, but there was nothing about her that was petite. She was strong and-
"Hello sir. Are you looking for anything in particular?" The woman turned light blue eyes to him and his heartbeat quickened. He thought she was pretty from behind? She was... stunning. And it wasn't like she was drop-dead gorgeous or full-figured, but for some reason Andion couldn't put a cap on his hormones.
Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't been with a woman in a couple hundred years... But.
He had a job to do. There were Daimons in this bookstore and she wasn't safe. "Do you have an office you go into and lock?" he questioned, only a very slight trace of his Greek accent shining through his deep voice. He hoped she didn't get the wrong idea, but he couldn't exactly tell her soul-sucking vampires were on the hunt, could he?
Imagine his surprise when he wasn't met by a Daimon but by a woman.
She wasn't facing him at first, she was re-shelving some books. His eyes ran up the length of her legs, over a very nice backside, up a slender back and smooth neck. Her hair was pulled up, and he couldn't see her face, but his body certainly didn't mind at all. There was something incredibly attractive about this woman.
As he got closer he noticed how much taller he was than her, she couldn't have been any taller than five'four maybe five'five. A woman like her wouldn't have been very popular in Sparta because she lacked the warrior-bearing woman size, and she didn't look very strong, but Andion had always found petite women very attractive. His wife had been one of the shorter Spartan women, but there was nothing about her that was petite. She was strong and-
"Hello sir. Are you looking for anything in particular?" The woman turned light blue eyes to him and his heartbeat quickened. He thought she was pretty from behind? She was... stunning. And it wasn't like she was drop-dead gorgeous or full-figured, but for some reason Andion couldn't put a cap on his hormones.
Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't been with a woman in a couple hundred years... But.
He had a job to do. There were Daimons in this bookstore and she wasn't safe. "Do you have an office you go into and lock?" he questioned, only a very slight trace of his Greek accent shining through his deep voice. He hoped she didn't get the wrong idea, but he couldn't exactly tell her soul-sucking vampires were on the hunt, could he?
Oh... May Zeus have mercy on him...
He wasn't strong enough to refuse such a lovely offer... He took slow, almost predatory steps toward the woman. Her scent invaded his nostrils and he could hear her excited heartbeat. She wanted this as much as he did it seemed. And hell, did he want it. He wanted it bad.
He stood as close to her as he could, could feel her softer body against his own harder one. He could really put that 'well-sized desk' to great use. Why had he come into the bookstore? He didn't quite remember.
He leaned down, his lips getting closer and closer to hers. Just as he was about to give in, he felt the tell-tale pull of Daimons. That's why he came into the bookstore. He growled and swooped the woman up into his arms. He ran into the office and crouched behind the desk with her, putting her down. "Stay here," he instructed, "And lock the door. Don't come out."
He straightened back up and pulled his blade back out plus another one for his other hand. He walked back to the door and locked it, but before he walked out he turned to the woman and offered a reassuring smile. "I'll let you know when it's safe." Not that she even knew what was going. She probably just thought he was crazy. He could live with that, and so would she.
He walked out of the door and closed it behind him, making sure it was locked. It was. He looked through the glass of the office, which was actually most of the left side wall. He couldn't help but think about what could have been seen through that glass if Daimons weren't in the way. Those SOBs really ticked him off. They picked the wrong Dark-Hunter's jurisdiction.
He wasn't strong enough to refuse such a lovely offer... He took slow, almost predatory steps toward the woman. Her scent invaded his nostrils and he could hear her excited heartbeat. She wanted this as much as he did it seemed. And hell, did he want it. He wanted it bad.
He stood as close to her as he could, could feel her softer body against his own harder one. He could really put that 'well-sized desk' to great use. Why had he come into the bookstore? He didn't quite remember.
He leaned down, his lips getting closer and closer to hers. Just as he was about to give in, he felt the tell-tale pull of Daimons. That's why he came into the bookstore. He growled and swooped the woman up into his arms. He ran into the office and crouched behind the desk with her, putting her down. "Stay here," he instructed, "And lock the door. Don't come out."
He straightened back up and pulled his blade back out plus another one for his other hand. He walked back to the door and locked it, but before he walked out he turned to the woman and offered a reassuring smile. "I'll let you know when it's safe." Not that she even knew what was going. She probably just thought he was crazy. He could live with that, and so would she.
He walked out of the door and closed it behind him, making sure it was locked. It was. He looked through the glass of the office, which was actually most of the left side wall. He couldn't help but think about what could have been seen through that glass if Daimons weren't in the way. Those SOBs really ticked him off. They picked the wrong Dark-Hunter's jurisdiction.
Melanie's heart was beating extremely quickly as the man advanced towards her. Her eyes pacing his features as he moved forward. Her breath became slightly heavy and quick, this was it. This was her fairy tale finally coming true. It was so close, and so was he as he drew himself against her. Her hand automatically moving to stroke his chest lightly. Her lips had already began to lightly purse and inch open as the kiss seemed inevitable; however, it wasn't. The man pulled away and pulled her into his arms.
It was amazing. That was the only thought in her mind. This event was the sole thing she had ever been waiting for. Their love would become so true to the stories she knew. Mel knew it in her bones. Her mind was rolling over all the things this would inspire to, and then everything fell flat. He had gently let her on the ground and told her to stay there. Mel wanted to say something and upon thinking about it, she immediantly regretted it, "But what about our love scene? How can you-" She was cut short by the locking of the door. It would appear that her love life was back into the trash. 'And now I'm probably getting robbed. Fantastic. What a life.' It would appear that her fantastic day would have to end in such a horrid way.
Instead of getting bitter about those things she couldn't fix, Mel fell back into her mind. It roared about what could have happened had the man took her up on her offer. She was sure that intimate relations with her would be much better than the few bucks in a cash register; yet, it would appear not. What a disappointment.
It was amazing. That was the only thought in her mind. This event was the sole thing she had ever been waiting for. Their love would become so true to the stories she knew. Mel knew it in her bones. Her mind was rolling over all the things this would inspire to, and then everything fell flat. He had gently let her on the ground and told her to stay there. Mel wanted to say something and upon thinking about it, she immediantly regretted it, "But what about our love scene? How can you-" She was cut short by the locking of the door. It would appear that her love life was back into the trash. 'And now I'm probably getting robbed. Fantastic. What a life.' It would appear that her fantastic day would have to end in such a horrid way.
Instead of getting bitter about those things she couldn't fix, Mel fell back into her mind. It roared about what could have happened had the man took her up on her offer. She was sure that intimate relations with her would be much better than the few bucks in a cash register; yet, it would appear not. What a disappointment.
Andion didn't have to look long before the group of Daimons found him. There were only five of them; he could handle that.
The first one that approached him was dust within seconds. He stabbed the blonde male right in the middle of his chest, through the heart. The next one that approached him was a woman; he hated fighting women. He always felt a little guilty even if the women he fought were soul-sucking monsters. She managed to get a manicured hand across his face, and he could feel a small trickle of blood, but he got her in the chest too. The remaining three Daimons ran at him at once.
He cursed as one of them knocked him on his back, but he jumped up quickly and turned the closest Daimon into a pile a dust. The last two were much harder than the first three he took out. They actually seemed to have some training. He lost one blade underneath a shelf and was kicked back a couple of feet. He landed right next to the office where he had left the lovely employee.
He dusted the smaller of the two Daimons and the other one hit him hard in the ribs. He was pretty sure he heard something crack, but he didn't really have time to think about it before the large blonde rushed him and they both slammed into the door of the office. It barely held.
Andion grunted in pain, hoping that none of his ribs would stab any vital organs. He pushed the Daimon away and moved away from the door, pulling out a dagger. The blonde was fast though and kicked him... right through the glass wall of the office!
He felt just about every piece of glass that stuck itself in his skin, but he had to kill the Daimon before it spotted the woman.
Too late. The Daimon walked through the large hole and grinned in the woman's direction hungrily. His fangs looked sinister.
Andion fought off the pain and rushed the blonde male, tackling him to the floor. "Stay away from her," he growled. He ended up straddling the guy's back, so he rolled the guy over and stabbed him right in the heart. The blonde barely had time to cry out before he burst into dust.
Andion dropped his dagger and sagged down on his hands and knees. His face was still bleeding where the female had gotten him with her nails, it hurt to breathe because of the abuse to his ribs, and there was glass embedded in his skin, slicking him with his own blood. But the Daimons were gone, and the woman was safe. He would consider this a win. "Sorry about the mess," he said, trying to smile. "I can get it fixed."
The first one that approached him was dust within seconds. He stabbed the blonde male right in the middle of his chest, through the heart. The next one that approached him was a woman; he hated fighting women. He always felt a little guilty even if the women he fought were soul-sucking monsters. She managed to get a manicured hand across his face, and he could feel a small trickle of blood, but he got her in the chest too. The remaining three Daimons ran at him at once.
He cursed as one of them knocked him on his back, but he jumped up quickly and turned the closest Daimon into a pile a dust. The last two were much harder than the first three he took out. They actually seemed to have some training. He lost one blade underneath a shelf and was kicked back a couple of feet. He landed right next to the office where he had left the lovely employee.
He dusted the smaller of the two Daimons and the other one hit him hard in the ribs. He was pretty sure he heard something crack, but he didn't really have time to think about it before the large blonde rushed him and they both slammed into the door of the office. It barely held.
Andion grunted in pain, hoping that none of his ribs would stab any vital organs. He pushed the Daimon away and moved away from the door, pulling out a dagger. The blonde was fast though and kicked him... right through the glass wall of the office!
He felt just about every piece of glass that stuck itself in his skin, but he had to kill the Daimon before it spotted the woman.
Too late. The Daimon walked through the large hole and grinned in the woman's direction hungrily. His fangs looked sinister.
Andion fought off the pain and rushed the blonde male, tackling him to the floor. "Stay away from her," he growled. He ended up straddling the guy's back, so he rolled the guy over and stabbed him right in the heart. The blonde barely had time to cry out before he burst into dust.
Andion dropped his dagger and sagged down on his hands and knees. His face was still bleeding where the female had gotten him with her nails, it hurt to breathe because of the abuse to his ribs, and there was glass embedded in his skin, slicking him with his own blood. But the Daimons were gone, and the woman was safe. He would consider this a win. "Sorry about the mess," he said, trying to smile. "I can get it fixed."
Of all the things he has exprienced in his 2000 year life, Asher had never felt the presence of somthing so similar, yet so different from another Immortalis. Of course, Asher had never really been surprised by anything abnormal anymore, considering all the things he had been through. Asher had become an Immortalis, lost his friends to the very beings he vowed to protect, had to fight against a little girl who was being controlled by a dead puppet master, had to kill someone who thought he could be in the place of God... Asher was tired of all of this stuff. The only good thing is that he had met his guardian angel, Eva, and fell in love with her.
Back to the topic at hand, Asher started to feel the presence of somthing evil when he got into the town midafternoon. He always got that feeling if there was an Immortalis nearby who was working for the devil. So, Asher followed his gut feeling and ended up near a bookstore. He had seen six people enter. 5 of which were being chased by a man. Asher followed them all, drawing a sword he "borrowed" from an Immortalis. Using his control over darkness, Asher hid his sword in his hand. When he silently entered the bookstore, he hid himself in a dark corner, watching the whole fight. So... The five people are trying to kill that one man... I'm assuming those five are Devil's Immortali then, and the lone wolf would probably be God's side... However, it was better safe than sorry, and Asher quietly sneaked into the office, hiding his presence and using the dark as cover.
There, Asher saw the fight with the man and the last of the five people, with the lone man standing victorious. God he is a mess... Hm, I guess I should reveal myself now and see how the situation plays out.
And with that thought, Asher stopped using his power of darknss to conceal himself and his sword, which was already in his sheath, disguised as a walking stick. "Hello there. Might I ask, who are you?" Asher's eyes studied the man from head to toe, taking in every single detail. That includes body language, reactions, words, and most importantly, if he had a concealed weapon still.
Back to the topic at hand, Asher started to feel the presence of somthing evil when he got into the town midafternoon. He always got that feeling if there was an Immortalis nearby who was working for the devil. So, Asher followed his gut feeling and ended up near a bookstore. He had seen six people enter. 5 of which were being chased by a man. Asher followed them all, drawing a sword he "borrowed" from an Immortalis. Using his control over darkness, Asher hid his sword in his hand. When he silently entered the bookstore, he hid himself in a dark corner, watching the whole fight. So... The five people are trying to kill that one man... I'm assuming those five are Devil's Immortali then, and the lone wolf would probably be God's side... However, it was better safe than sorry, and Asher quietly sneaked into the office, hiding his presence and using the dark as cover.
There, Asher saw the fight with the man and the last of the five people, with the lone man standing victorious. God he is a mess... Hm, I guess I should reveal myself now and see how the situation plays out.
And with that thought, Asher stopped using his power of darknss to conceal himself and his sword, which was already in his sheath, disguised as a walking stick. "Hello there. Might I ask, who are you?" Asher's eyes studied the man from head to toe, taking in every single detail. That includes body language, reactions, words, and most importantly, if he had a concealed weapon still.
Andion looked up at the sudden appearance of another. His immediate urge was to defend himself and the woman, but he sensed no threat. The guy seemed safe enough. "I am Andion," he said, grinning through the pain. It would be gone soon enough; all he needed was a good night's sleep.
(I prefer longer posts but... dang! :D)
(I prefer longer posts but... dang! :D)
Andion was taller than Asher. He also had more build, and the man was also dressed in black. Probably to help use the darkness as cover... Asher thought. "My name is Asher..." He comes in closer and drops to the whisper. "Who were those people who just tried to kill you and your girlfriend?" Asher meant it as a joke when he said girlfriend, but if Andion was provoked, then Asher would be able to see whether Andion is an actual normal human. After all, those men he fought turned to dust, like Immortali. Maybe Andion was another Immortalis.
Before Asher could hear Andion's response however, Asher felt a presence so familiar, he could recognize it at the first second he sensed it. "Speak of the devil..." Asher whispered. He then drew Dark Tempest and went outsude. His sixth sense was correct. Three seemingly normal people was walking this way. They looked like the "greasers" from earlier times. Asher examined them. They all had knives, but one of them was hiding even more. Their power matched those of two Immortali and one Elder Immortali. Which means two noobs and one veteran player in a video game. However, Asher was the pro here. He could take them by himself.
However, Asher vaguely sensed two more Immortali on the rooftops. They were both new to the whole Immortalis thing. So... four noobs' limbs and one decent player's head... Coming right up. Asher got into a ready stance, now drawing his sword which he had missed using so much over the last few decades, Chilling Blaze. "Come at me, bros!" Asher taunted. They all charged.
Before Asher could hear Andion's response however, Asher felt a presence so familiar, he could recognize it at the first second he sensed it. "Speak of the devil..." Asher whispered. He then drew Dark Tempest and went outsude. His sixth sense was correct. Three seemingly normal people was walking this way. They looked like the "greasers" from earlier times. Asher examined them. They all had knives, but one of them was hiding even more. Their power matched those of two Immortali and one Elder Immortali. Which means two noobs and one veteran player in a video game. However, Asher was the pro here. He could take them by himself.
However, Asher vaguely sensed two more Immortali on the rooftops. They were both new to the whole Immortalis thing. So... four noobs' limbs and one decent player's head... Coming right up. Asher got into a ready stance, now drawing his sword which he had missed using so much over the last few decades, Chilling Blaze. "Come at me, bros!" Asher taunted. They all charged.
Andion was still confused. 'Asher' felt... similar to himself. Odd, yes, but interesting. His curiosity was peaked and he was about to talk to the stranger but he ran off. What the hell?
Andion forced himself to his feet and drew his own weapon. He looked at the woman. "Stay here, you should be safe." He was about to run off again but he turned towards her. "I'll be back," he said, offering a smile before he left.
He ran outside and saw Asher and some others approaching him. They didn't look too friendly. He heard the stranger yell at the group before they charged him. He wanted to help but maybe it would be for the best to see what this guy could do. He decided to hang back and see what happens.
Andion forced himself to his feet and drew his own weapon. He looked at the woman. "Stay here, you should be safe." He was about to run off again but he turned towards her. "I'll be back," he said, offering a smile before he left.
He ran outside and saw Asher and some others approaching him. They didn't look too friendly. He heard the stranger yell at the group before they charged him. He wanted to help but maybe it would be for the best to see what this guy could do. He decided to hang back and see what happens.
The first Immortalis was just stupid. He charged at Asher, sword overhead. Asher simply pointed Chilling Blaze at the assailant's chest and let the guy skewer himself. The first Immortalis blew into the wind as dust. The second one ran at Asher, preparing for a horizontal slash. Asher put a tag on his foot, a wind tag, and spin hook kicked the Immortalis, attaching the wind tag and activating it. The poor guy got blown onto the third Immortalis on the rooftops. The fourth, however, dodged the human projectile and jumped from the rooftops and, with a bow and arrow, started to fire off a barrage of arrows. Asher took Dark Tempest and slashed into the air. Much like the video game weapon Yamato from Devil May Cry, the sword created a strong shockwave, cutting through the multitude of arrows and slicing the Immortalis in half. The archer turned into ashes.
The second and third Immortali recovered and went for Asher again, this time riding a rail of ice. Unlike Asher, these Immortali don't care if they were seen. They would love it if humans saw them and feared them. Asher made Chilling Blaze erupt into flames, and slashed at the rail. The rail melted and Asher took the opportunity to make a spike of darkness appear. The third Immortalis made another rail, this time invisible. He was riding on the wind, literally! The second Immortalis was too late to react and got impaled. He turned to dust.
The third Immortalis tried to copy Asher and slashed at Asher from the distance, making shockwaves. However, Asher was too quick and ran to the Immortalis. Asher then jumped and kicked the opponent's back, knocking him off. Asher snaps his fingers and the Immortali suddenly couldn't see. Asher had planted a Dark Tag on the opponent when he had kicked him.
Asher dived for the bow and arrow of the fourth Immortalis. Once he had obtained it, Asher took aim and fired. The arrow flew through the sky faster than it should, and it pierced the blind Immortalis's skull. It turned into yet another pile of ashes blown into the wind. Asher turned to the final opponent, the Elder Immortalis. "Hey Andion. After this I think I'll get the both of us some coffee. What do you say?" Asher charges and disappears. He then reappears behind the confused man and kick the Immortalis high into the air. Asher then jumped towards the Elder Immortalis and yelled "Final Edge!" before making a single slash. The one hit actually was an illusion, as Asher had, in reality, landed several slashes from all directions.
Asher lands and sheathes both Chilling Blaze and Dark Tempest. He disguised Dark Tempest as a walking stick while he hid Chilling Blaze in his robe. "Luckily my powers had hid the fight. to a normal human, he or she didn't hear or see anything but a man dreaming with his eyes open, which means you." Asher chuckles. "Well? I'm waiting for your answer... to that question and to the one I asked earlier. Who are you? And I want to hear what you are. You certainatly don't give off the aura of a normal human."
The second and third Immortali recovered and went for Asher again, this time riding a rail of ice. Unlike Asher, these Immortali don't care if they were seen. They would love it if humans saw them and feared them. Asher made Chilling Blaze erupt into flames, and slashed at the rail. The rail melted and Asher took the opportunity to make a spike of darkness appear. The third Immortalis made another rail, this time invisible. He was riding on the wind, literally! The second Immortalis was too late to react and got impaled. He turned to dust.
The third Immortalis tried to copy Asher and slashed at Asher from the distance, making shockwaves. However, Asher was too quick and ran to the Immortalis. Asher then jumped and kicked the opponent's back, knocking him off. Asher snaps his fingers and the Immortali suddenly couldn't see. Asher had planted a Dark Tag on the opponent when he had kicked him.
Asher dived for the bow and arrow of the fourth Immortalis. Once he had obtained it, Asher took aim and fired. The arrow flew through the sky faster than it should, and it pierced the blind Immortalis's skull. It turned into yet another pile of ashes blown into the wind. Asher turned to the final opponent, the Elder Immortalis. "Hey Andion. After this I think I'll get the both of us some coffee. What do you say?" Asher charges and disappears. He then reappears behind the confused man and kick the Immortalis high into the air. Asher then jumped towards the Elder Immortalis and yelled "Final Edge!" before making a single slash. The one hit actually was an illusion, as Asher had, in reality, landed several slashes from all directions.
Asher lands and sheathes both Chilling Blaze and Dark Tempest. He disguised Dark Tempest as a walking stick while he hid Chilling Blaze in his robe. "Luckily my powers had hid the fight. to a normal human, he or she didn't hear or see anything but a man dreaming with his eyes open, which means you." Asher chuckles. "Well? I'm waiting for your answer... to that question and to the one I asked earlier. Who are you? And I want to hear what you are. You certainatly don't give off the aura of a normal human."
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