Description

Asmodeus
”There is yet much to be done.”
[url=LINK]”THEME SONG”[/url]

❝ More Than Just A Name ❞

BASICS
”You expect me to be basic?"

-Nickname
As; Lord 9

-Age
6,734

-Gender
Male

-Role
Asmodeus is the Lord of the 9th Circle of Hell

❝ Beyond The Disguise ❞

APPEARANCE
”It changes quite frequently. This, however, has become my favorite."

-Eye Color
Red

-Hair Color
White

-Height
6'1"

-Weight
145 lbs

-Skin Tone
Pale

-Build
Strong/Well-toned

-Body Markings
Flawless

❝ Behind The Mechanics ❞

MENTALITY
”I'm a demon...but my mental state is not what you would expect. Sorry."

-Fears

-Likes

-Dislikes

-Quirks

-Personality

❝ Replaying The Past And Present ❞

LIFE
”My life is none of your business."

-Relationships

So begins...

Asmodeus's Story

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Setting

New York

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#2012-11-23 11:00:48, as written by CNAGamer

Morgan tossed on his bed restlessly. There was something in the air that made him uneasy. Then again, around him, there was always something in the air to make anyone uneasy. His shared presence with Asmodeus was not an easy thing to hide, especially not from his brothers, Hadrimon and Viktor. But, he'd managed to do it for ten years, so there was no point in worrying about it now. He sat up with a sigh, brushing his shaggy black hair away from his red eyes and glanced at his watch. 4:32 A.M. Great. Another night of perhaps four hours of sleep. Ten years and he still couldn't figure out how humans could sleep so long.

After pulling on a shirt and a pair of jeans, he wandered out of his room into the living room | kitchen | dining room that served at the rest of their living area. It wasn't much, but it was enough for three angels who weren't there most of the time anyhow. Hadrimon was already up, and gone, by the looks of it. Michael wasn't in his cage. Morgan still couldn't understand why his brother liked the small furry animal so much, or why he had chosen the name Michael of all names. He shook his head, and got a glass of water. It didn't help his pounding head any.

Can you sense them, Morgan?

The voice flickered through his head and made him start. It was too early for this, and he was in no mood to play games with the demon. "What the hell are ou talking about, As? Sense what?" He growled under his breath, when he did feel it. And underlying chill, that was unmistakable. The realization got him grinning, and when he opened the door, Asmodeus was already there.

"It's a little odd this morning...it would seem the demons are after something...or someone, rather, who seems to be quite powerful. There's quite a few rumors running through the Circles of new Watchers in the area."

That made Morgan hesitate slightly. "Watchers? You're kidding...well then, we'd best not waste any time then, should we?"

Asmodeus grinned. "Indeed." Together, human and demon wandered out into the night, and Morgan made sure to head in the opposite direction of Hadrimon. Explaining Asmodeus to him was not somehting he felt like doing this early in the morning.

Setting

New York

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#2012-11-25 06:30:53, as written by CNAGamer

[Morgan]

[Asmodeus]

❝Wonderful...just what we need. A passed out girl in a hotel room with two strange males she's never met. This will go over well.❞
❝Look on the bright side, if she's a Watcher, we found one already. If not, we may have permanantly given someone brain damage and possibly end up with a few missing fingers. Either way, I think it was a sucessful morning.❞

Morgan and Asmodeus were sitting on a bench, when the demon suddenly looked up in the direction of a large beam of fire as it shot upwards towards the sky. He frowned, wondering what it could be. Morgan paid it little more than a fleeting glance. Asmodeus felt a pull towards it, but he had other matters to attend to, matters which suddenly took form in front of him as his Hand appeared. The lesser demon looked much like a lizard, with scales running the course of his body, and having clawed hands, with bright yellow eyes. His voice issued forth in a stream of hisses as he spoke to his master.

"The other eight Demon Lords know of the Watchers. The Seventh has sent his son in search of them. The Fifth and the Third also asked after you, wanting to know why you were not present. I simply told them you had other matters to attend to, nothing further, my Lord. But I feel put to warn you...they are starting to get suspicious."

Asmodeus's eyes narrowed, and he rubbed his chin with a hand. "I'm sure they are. I haven't been to the last fourteen meetings, after all. Still...the fact that they all now know is...unnerving. We must work fast, or they shall endanger my plans." He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "And are you sure? Valafar, Baalzebul's son?" The demon nodded and Asmodeus glanced again at the pillar of fire. "Yes, that is Valafar's mark, he always did like to be showy...very well, you are dismissed. Keep the others at bay as best you can, and make sure no one sits on my throne."

The demon bowed, and vanished in a wisp of smoke. Morgan chuckled, but in truth, what Asmodeus had said was no laughing matter. If a demon lord sat upon the throne of another when they were out of their circle, it meant open war. It also meant that the demon whose throne was stolen had the disadvantage, as they would have lost their seat of power, and be weakened as their powers were derived directly from their thrones and thus would be drained upon losing said throne to another. Morgan stood up. "Well...I suppose that we should get going, then, seeing as the other eight lords seem to be catching--"

Morgan was cut off mid sentence by a shrill scream intermingled with an otherworldly snarl. Demon and Angel looked at one another, and then turned and ran towards the sounds without a word, moving almost as one person. They arrived on the scene just in time to witness a young woman with lavender colored hair get picked up at the throat by a clawed hand, which was attached to Oreen. Asmodeus had to do a double-take, before he finally skidded to a halt. Oreen was one of his men, and he had ordered no attack of any sort. He clenched his fists and glared at the demon. "Oreen! Stand down, that's an order!" The demon froze, it's head spinning around, litterally the entire way, until his head was facing the wrong direction. His bright yellow eyes widened slightly when they fell on his master. But he kept his hold on the girl.

Morgan had said not a word, but kept an eye on the human female. By her behaviour, he wasn't sure she could see them, but he knew she could definately tell there was something there, something that wasn't supposed to be there.

"Lord Asmodeus...I would ask why you would give such an order. She is nothing but a mere human..." His voice was deep and gutteral, but he stumbled over his words in an effort to make them sound truthful, and Asmodeus saw through all of them. He snarled at the demon in a fanged grimace. Oreen flinched. This obviously had not been apart of his plans.

"Let me guess...you know what she is, and decided to take her for yourself. I'm guessing you wanted my throne to yourself...right?"

Oreen took a step away from his master, who followed him. The demon looked in three directions, Asmodeus was in front of him, Morgan to his right, and a wall behind him. The alley to his left was a dead end. He had nowhere to go. Not knowing what else to do, he snarled, dropped the girl, and then jumped. But it was too late. One simple movement form Asmodeus and the greater demon was skewered on seven different shadows, his blood falling like rain upon the ground below. Within seconds the demon's body vanished in fire and ash, noting but the traces of blood that now smeared Morgan, Asmodeus, and the girl as proof he ever existed. Even the blod on the pavement was gone. Morgan caught the girl before she hit the ground. She was gasping for air, her hair and glasses askew, her heart was pounding, and tears ran from her eyes. Demon blood was splattered in her hair, saking into her rain-sodden hoodie, and smeared on her glasses. Her wide eyes stared far off into the distance, never once looking at Morgan or Asmodeus. "I don't think she's even aware that we're here, As..."

Asmodeus sighed, walking over. "I wouldn't doubt it. The girl's probably in shock, especially if she has no idea about her powers. We need to take her somewhere other than here. Somewhere she can recover. If she really is a Watcher, she'll no doubt attract unwelcome guests. Let's find somewhere to take her, and I can set up a barrier. Once the barrier is up, I shall do my best to stay as far away from her as possible, my aura will do nothing but make her uncomfortable. She's very sensitive to demonic presence, that much is certain. Whether or not she can actually see us in our true forms has yet to be determined."

Morgan nodded, wondering where they could possibly go. Not to the apartment...too much explaining involved, and Victor and Hal would not appreciate Asmodeus in tow. He glanced down to see that the girl had dropped a bag, at which point he picked it up, and threw it to the demon. "Search it, maybe we can find out were she lives." He settled the girl in his arms as the demon looked. After a few seconds, he produced a hotel room key and grinned. "Bingo. I know there's only one hotel in this area that still uses keys instead of key cards. Let's get going."

Perhaps ten minuets later, Morgan had laid the girl, now unconciuos, on the bed in a neat, if albeit somewhat dingy, hotel room, and was standing outside her door smoking. Asmodeus stood off to his right, keeping watch. But for now, his barrier was working. He'd seen a few demons pass by, but none had been aware of their, or the girl's, presence. Now, they just had to wait until she woke up. And pray that she didn't try to stab them. Which might be rather likely, considering the situation they had found themselves in.

Setting

New York

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#2012-11-26 05:12:03, as written by Jakuri-chan

[Arcelia Innocenti]

There was no explanation for it. Her body was alive with sensations it did not understand, the only thing processing within her brain was a level of alarm and panic that was beyond anything completely comprehensible, she’d managed a scream before, hadn’t she? Yes, she’d screamed, but because of an invisible snarl—a low, rumble that seeped from the throat of an entity or beast she couldn’t yet see. But she knew it was there, her body knew it was. Something dangerous, something that could kill her. It’d tossed her into the air like she was nothing, and to whatever this thing was, she was as nothing, she had no defense against it, no way of even seeing it so that she might know what was lingering above. . . . An unseen beast which was able to fling her against a building so easily, she was as nothing. It was as simple as that.

She couldn’t even bring her body to budge from where she’d been laying, all she could do was quiver, crying from sheer terror, tears slipping from her wide eyes without a trace of a sob. Heart frantically pounding within her chest, skin and muscle alive with only the prickling sensations of ice and winter, the toxic feeling of fear, Arcelia found thoughts beyond scattered, jumbled wasn’t the level of word needed to describe her mind at the moment. There slipped from the unseen-beast, a low throaty sort of rumble, then a hiss as it was Arcelia felt something ice cold grip her throat. A gasp slipped from her mouth, as the grip suddenly tightened, and she was hoisted up into the air in a second.

The panic set in, the need to survive against this whatever she could not see. And she began to claw at the invisible appendage clutching her by her throat, moving desperately as she struggled to breathe, only to choke every time she attempted an inhale or an exhale. She was going to die like this . . . wasn’t she? Killed, by something she couldn’t even see, only sense. A shrill sort of whine escaped her, as the tears came in full force, body shaking. Though she moved, fighting against whatever had her with every ounce of strength her fatigued and frightened body had in it, Arcelia froze, stilling herself entirely for a moment, hands gripping onto whatever had her by the neck as her eyes were locked onto something she couldn’t quite seem to understand. Her vision had blurred, the world looked like it did when it was she didn’t have her glasses, before it just as quickly corrected itself, a blotch of color and shape had taken form beneath her, something inhuman.

Details were unclear, but she knew enough to know that whatever it was she was seeing—mottled and hazy or not, it wasn’t right. Only one thought processed through her shattered and panicked mind, Monster. . . .
What else could it have been?

“Oreen! Stand down, that's an order!” she heard a shout—and there were figures, people she couldn’t entirely see. . . . And it seemed that a conversation commenced, she could hear the words, understand them, but she couldn’t make sense of them. Like the situation.

“Lord Asmodeus...I would ask why you would give such an order. She is nothing but a mere human...” Arcelia’s eyes flittered about, looking in every direction as all she could clearly see now were blurs, shapes of people and the figure of some sort of thing, holding her in the air by her neck. Feeling the fright slam back down through her body, Arcelia began to instinctively claw at the thing wrapped round her throat, trying to free herself, she needed air, she needed to breathe. . . .

“Let me guess...you know what she is, and decided to take her for yourself. I'm guessing you wanted my throne to yourself...right?”

At this point, Arcelia found herself unable to move anymore, though she halfheartedly still attempted to work herself free of the hand around her throat, her line of sight had drifted, staring up toward the sky as her eyes began to close, rims of black lined her vision as she still struggled to take in a breath. What was going on? A monster was . . . holding her by her throat, she couldn’t breathe and she was being discussed . . . ? The situation, she just didn’t understand it. How could she have? No one would have understood this. Just as suddenly though, there slipped a snarl, and the ice-like grip around her throat was gone, and the chilly autumn air rushed in, warming her freezing skin as gravity took hold of her, and began to pull her to the pavement below.

She couldn’t even cry out as she fell, she barely even understood that she’d been released from whatever had been holding her, the only thing her body cared about at this point was sucking in the oxygen it’d been deprived of, before it was Arcelia felt something splatter against her, something that felt like freezing rain to her; it hit her hair and her glasses. . . . But it didn’t matter, whatever it was didn’t matter to her yet.

Ai-Air. she thought, quivering not realizing that she was within someone’s arms.

Her eyes opened, but her vision was distorted, blurred and everything shifting about, she stared toward the orange skies, unaware of the tears slipping from her eyes. She could breathe again. But what had happened to her, the violent reaction incited within her body, the fear and panic, the fact that something invisible had held her up by her neck before it was she was able to make out an inhumanly shape, and overheard something she couldn’t comprehend. . . . The situation had only lasted two minutes, at the most, and none of it made any sense to her, at all. Prickles of distress and fear still lingered within her, though they were not as severe or as consuming as before. Cold still plagued her body, and she shivered because of it, and there was still an innate sense within her mind telling her to run away, to get to her own two feet and run. But, she couldn’t.

A dizziness set in upon her, her head felt like it was spinning, and nothing made sense to her anymore at all. There was only the fact that she was free to breathe, and the lasting feel of fear, along with the imposing weariness she’d felt beforehand, all of it compiled together at once, settling in upon Arcelia, completely overwhelming her. Twenty-two hours without sleep, being attacked by a monster or something, and suffering the worst bout of the ‘chills’ to date, it was just too much for her. Shaking from feeling cold, Arcelia found herself feeling nothing but tired again, and though she’d failed to realize that she was being held up by someone, the pale-haired girl could only release a shaky exhale before it was she fell limp, and her eyes shut. . . .

By the time it was that she found herself coming to, waking up from whatever daze she’d fallen into, Arcelia was back within the realm of the place she called home—her motel room. She was lying on her bed, curled up in a ball on top of the covers. Her body, felt . . . strange, it felt weighted, cold and like it didn’t want to move. A soft groan slipped from her throat, as she tried to think, to process any sort of thoughts at all, but none would come. Home . . . how it was she’d gotten there, she didn’t know? Had she gotten home at some point and just fallen asleep, so tired that she didn’t remember walking from the store? She simply remained there, lying in the fetal position, glasses on her face, clothing still damp while it was her hair felt kind of gross.
There was nothing there; she couldn’t remember it . . . how she had gotten home. It was a blur.

She still felt tired though, extremely. Her body felt like it was worn out, and as if it’d been through Hell—even her throat was aching. Though she didn’t mean to, Arcelia’s fingers slid the pale flesh of her neck, delicately feeling at it, only to make her seethe upon a sharp twinge ripping through her throat. Her hands remained there, a pained expression upon her features as her mind settled back down from the sudden ache. What that was from, she didn’t know.

. . . .then it came back to her, the sudden case of ‘chills’ she’d suffered trying to get home, before she was thrown up against a wall, feet high, and then was promptly heaved upward by her throat, half-choked there by something invisible before she could make out a blotchy figure. Then there’d been someone talking, a discussion, concerning her partly. But, things feel wholly into a daze then and there, nothing after that made any sense to her, there was no way for her to make sense of those memories. One thing she knew for sure, was that she had not made it ‘home’ before everything turned into a blank, so how it was she’d wound up on her bed. . . . And then, her body, it felt so strange—like there was a constant, persistent sense of anxiety prodding at her consciousness, warning her to be direly careful. What that was from, she didn’t know.

So, if she had a bruise around her throat, there was no way that what she underwent was a dream. It had to have been real. So then . . . what had happened following her falling into a complete daze? How was it she got back to her motel room?
Questions boiling within her mind, Arcelia forced herself to sit up, despite the discomfort she felt in doing so while a hand remained clasped around her throat. Her free hand went to her head as soon as she was up though, it hurt, and there was lightheadedness there as well. She turned to look around her room, glasses smudged up with something. . . . But her vision was clear enough for the most part, at least, enough to notice the fact that she was not alone within her own room now.

A scream slipped from her, upon seeing that there were two men there with her. Her body tensed up again, fear slipping through her while it was she attempted to crawl rearward, and jump off her bed . . . only to manage falling backward instead. Panicked, Arcelia had tried to quickly move herself off her bed, only to not realize how close she’d been to the edge to begin with. And by the time she realized that there was nothing under her hand to support her body, it was too late, gravity already had its hold on the upper half of her body, and had pulled it to the floor, while it was her legs remained on the surface of her mattress.

Blinking a few times, it took seconds for her to regain some sense of herself, and for a blush to spread across her face. . . .

Setting

New York

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#2012-12-03 06:21:42, as written by CNAGamer

[Morgan]

[Asmodeus]

❝ This just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it? ❞
❝ Quite graceful, isn't she? ❞

Morgan and Asmodeus had taken up playing a game of dice while waiting for the girl on the bed to wake up. "Do you think we should wake her?"

"Leave her. She'll come around soon enough." Morgan placed his bid. "Seven fives."

Asmodeus chuckled. "Eight sixes." At which point Morgan just smiled and shook his head. Asmodeus grumbled and was about to hand over the money when the human girl sat up, glanced around, shrieked, and then toppled over the side of the bed away from them. Or started to, anyhow. Morgan stayed put, but Asmodeus moved, quicker than the human eye could see, and grabbed the girls' outstretched wrist, suspending her in midair, half on the bed and off, while Asmodeus himself loomed above her standing on the bed. "How graceful. Are you feeling any better? And more importantly: Do you remember anything?"

Morgan had not moved nor said a word. Asmodeus would be able to tell if she was a Watcher. Then he would step in. Until then, there really wasn't much he could do.

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#2012-12-03 07:47:53, as written by Jakuri-chan

[Arcelia Innocenti]

She’d expected to hit the ground at least, although, her face had indeed flushed a shade of red. When the impact of the worn carpet wasn’t felt by her though, and there was something pulling on her wrist, holding it there as she remained in-between the floor and the bed, Arcelia kept her eyes shut. Heart going a million beats a minute within her chest from the situation, she began to shake, confused and frightened. There were men in her motel room, with her, and she’d passed out before, after having been attacked by a something she didn’t understand. There’d been what? A blur? The shape of something inhuman before she lost all sense of anything?

A shiver rippled through her body, she felt the hand clasped onto her wrist, what was keeping her from the mercy of gravity, this hand, it was ungodly cold. It felt like ice to her. Under the sleeves of her hoodie, she could feel her skin going gooseflesh as she shuddered. And still within her, there persisted that sense of paranoia, that feeling to wrench her hand free, and to run away. The sentiment of danger lurked still in her mind, though she didn’t understand why—just like she didn’t understand the wintery hand around her wrist.

What had happened to her . . . ? What was happening now? Why were their two men in her ‘home?’ How did one of them manage to keep her from hitting the floor? How did they move so . . . quickly? The thing before, that’d tossed her as if she were a marionette, what was it?

I-I need to get out of here. . . . she thought, body tensing up, though she still shook while it was both of her hands formed into tight little fists. Arcelia could feel her fingernails digging into the fleshy palms of her hands, a flicker of pain shot through her, pulling her back. The tenderness of her throat remained as well, an ache prickling through it.

“How graceful.” the voice came from above her, the one who’d caught her, his voice was laced with obvious sarcasm. Still trembling a bit, she forced her eyes open and drew her crimson-gaze upward, looking at the silhouetted figure that loomed above her through her smudged up glasses. “Are you feeling any better? And more importantly: Do you remember anything?” he questioned her.

Arcelia said nothing, only, all color within her face vanished away, and her pallor complexion returned to her, an uncertain expression formed over her face. She didn’t know how to even answer, what to say or even how to explain anything. Yes, there was a memory, but it was beyond her understanding—she knew what happened, but how to tell of such events. . . . It escaped her grasp. It didn’t help her to be within the presence of two unknown men either, with one of those two holding her up from the floor with an ice-cold hand, asking her these questions. Topping all that off, she was still tired from pulling an extra-long shift at work with little sleep to begin with. . . .

That sensation of anxiety lingering within, prickling through her body, Arcelia’s eyes shut again, and she inwardly flinched with a soft noise before she took to wrenching her wrist free of the inhumanly cold grasp around it. Although this left her to gravity’s mercy, she didn’t care, she just felt like she needed her freedom, the space between herself and these strangers. Everything was overwhelming, unexplainable. . . . What had happened, she just didn’t understand it. Indeed though, the pale-haired girl did manage to hit the floor, though her weight managed to shift in the moment between suspension and impact, her legs slipped off the bed, and wound up causing Arcelia to not remain where she’d laid, but instead to wind up on her side. Her eyes wide, the fact that she was now free to move on her own hit her and she was too her feet far too fast, dizziness hitting her as soon as she was up.

A hand to her head, she stumbled a bit where she stood before it was she stepped backward, a look of definite discontentment overtaking her face as she came to meet a wall with her back. Her face remained near white; all color had drained from it, leaving her looking ready to faint again at near any moment as she shook. Arcelia felt tears prickle at the rims of her eyes, her mind was jumbled again, and she didn’t know how or what to do here. If these men meant her harm, then they’d have hurt her while she was unconscious, but they’d waited around for her to come to, going so far as to ask if she was all right. Yet still, before, what had happened with the something. . . . It made no sense, she’d been getting ‘chills’ since she was ten, and never before had anything like that happened before. Nothing so violent or terrifying. The feeling of paranoia remained with her too, reacting to one of the two men within her proximity.

Opening her lips to attempt speech, Arcelia stumbled out a few noises before something coherent formed, “I-I, yo-you two—who a-are you?” her voice was breathy and high, the hesitation she felt seeped into it. “An-and me, wha-what happened t-to me? Ju-just going home when—when. . . . So-something, there wa-was something. . . .” Arcelia managed out, gaze drifting downward as her body tensed up to the point that her breath stopped within her throat. “N-Nothing, then, I-I was in the ai-air, like a ragdoll. . . . S-something there, kept me the-there; thr-throat.” Her hand loosely wrapped around her bruised neck, “Co-couldn’t see we-well, blu-blurry, but there was s-so-something. . . .”

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#2012-12-04 04:28:06, as written by CNAGamer

[Morgan]

[Asmodeus]

❝ So she is a Watcher. ❞
❝ Deffinately. Now if we just knew where the others were... ❞

Asmodeus was blatently surprised when the girl ripped her hand away from his own. Her breathing had accelerated, and she was having a hard time staying on her feet, that much was obvious. The Demon Lord turned back to Morgan. "Well, we've got a Watcher, and a powerful one at that. I didn't even have to lift that illusion. She may not understand what she senses, but she deffinately senses me, and probably you as well."

Morgan nodded, standing up and moving over to the girl who was stuttering on about what had happened and how she couldn't really remember. "That something was a Demon. As in, the things from Hell, ruled by the Devil." He jerked his thumb at Asmodeus who had sat back down, keeping an eye on the window. "That one, behind me, is also a Demon. To be specific, he's Asmodeus, the Lord of the ninth circle. But, you don't have to worry about him. He may give you all the evil vibes, but really he's on our side. It's a long story. As for myself...I'm Morgan. I am....was....an Angel, a long time ago. We saved you. That Demon from before would have destroyed you, and then taken your soul. Now then...what's you're name? It's not really appropriate to just call you 'Watcher'.

Asmodeus snorted, but kept silent.

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#2012-12-05 04:01:37, as written by Jakuri-chan

[Arcelia Innocenti]

It took a lot for her to not sink to the floor where she stood, her legs underneath her felt completely weak, and in truth, she was beginning to feel nausea settle into her stomach. Confusion coupled with her fatigue, the paranoia and the wonderment involved with finding two strangers in her ‘home,’ it was just too much for her to handle all at once. What was happening to her? All she wanted, all she had been doing . . . just going home to sleep, to recover from the day and night she’d spent at work. Obviously, that hadn’t and wasn’t going to be happening anytime soon. She didn’t understand it, what was happening around her now, what this whole weird situation entailed. . . .

Body shaking, Arcelia exhaled as she moved a hand up to place overtop the left side of her face, her brain failing to connect any of her thoughts together in a coherent manner. Her glasses were still smudged up pretty badly too, and she just felt . . . yuck.

There was something on her, but what it was, she didn’t know, and there was this sinking feeling within her that she didn’t want to. My throat, it still hurts. Speaking up made the ache worse. . . .

A dazed expression had taken root upon her face, one of clear exasperation, a creeping sense of wanting to run still lingered in the back of her mind, but that sentiment was beginning to dull away as things all felt as if they were blurring together. Was she going to faint again . . . ?

When it was she realized that one of the two men was standing before her, not the one who gave her that feeling of anxiety, Arcelia let out a quick breath, and looked up, eyes wide. This one didn’t give her the same sense as the one who’d had the ice-cold hand, but, still, there was something off about him. And, as always, it was something she couldn’t explain. All she knew was that it was a feeling. “That something was a Demon. As in, the things from Hell, ruled by the Devil.” he stated, about as blatantly as he could. Arcelia merely stared at this one, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly agape.

Her hand remained in the air, just below her face. She still couldn’t see well out of her glasses, but her vision was clear enough to see the man before her throw his hand up, his thumb pointing back toward the silhouette that was sitting near the window. “That one, behind me, is also a Demon. To be specific, he’s Asmodeus, the Lord of the ninth circle.”[/b] Between him and the one in front of her, Arcelia’s traversed, an obvious glint of questioning within them. “But you don’t have to worry about him. He may give you all the evil vibes, but he’s really on our side. It’s a long story. As for myself…I’m Morgan. I am…was…an Angel, a long time ago. We saved you. That Demon from before would have destroyed you, and then taken your soul.”

Putting it as simply as possible . . . she didn’t understand any of this. What this man was talking about; Demons? Did . . . did he say that other man was named ‘Asmodeus’ . . . ? The look on her features was one of mental vacancy, an empty and utterly confused one. I-I don’t, none of this, i-it doesn’t make sense. Arcelia’s hand went back to her head, and she clutched onto it as her eyes shut and a quiet whimper slipped from her throat. As if things hadn’t been weird enough before, she’d been attacked by a something that was previous invisible only for it to poof into existence, to become tangible just enough for her to make out its blurry form. And now, the men who she woke up to find in her motel room . . . one of them was speaking of Demons, saying that the other of the two himself was a Demon as well—a prince of Hell nonetheless.

Just breathe Arcelia, a-all of this, yo-you’ll manage to make some sense of it. Just breathe and keep yourself calm, don’t give into the confusion. she convinced herself, forcing her breathing to become measured as she tried to slip into some sense of serenity. All of the uncertainty was near enough to make her feel like breaking down into tears. But crying now wouldn’t get her anywhere, confusion would do her no good and the only way to understand whatever it was this guy was talking about, she had to try to be as clearheaded as possible—even with her tiredness, paranoia and being overwhelmed.

“Now then…what’s you’re name? It’s not really appropriate to just call you ‘Watcher’.” There came from the evidently called ‘Asmodeus’ a snort, which caused Arcelia to open her eyes to stare at him for a moment, eyes somewhat blank.

Demons, Asmodeus, and ‘Watcher?’ What is he talking about? she shook her head a bit, shutting her eyes as she tried to make sense of all that’d been spewed out to her within the last two minutes. The information and words were all becoming a singular blotch within her, she couldn’t separate and comprehend anything. The one who’d explained this, or tried to, in a manner far too rushed, he’d claimed himself to once have been an Angel? When did my life suddenly take a plunge into biblical times? I don’t understand any of this stuff.

There came the sensation of tears prickling at her eyes again, confusion eating away at her attempts to stay calm. “I-I, don’t. . . . None of this. . . . No, no sense.” She sputtered out.

Legs beneath her beginning to shake a bit again, Arcelia knew she couldn’t keep standing anymore, and she slid down to the floor, back against the wall still. “Tired . . . I’m too tired to understand any of this drabble.” Arcelia spoke softly, holding onto the side of her head. “Just something, attacked, hurt me. . . .” Hand around her throat again, “Wanna run away. . . . Confused, don’t understand. . . .”

“Hah . . . maybe you’re really beginning to lose it Arcelia, nothing’s making sense to you anymore. Not like it did that too well before, but this is. . . .” Demons, Angels and all of this, maybe it’s just another step into the insanity I was already walking toward?

The pale-haired girl remained seated there against the wall, this was too much.

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Asmodeus

0 · 279 views · located in New York

a character in “Even Angels: Watchers”, originally authored by CNAGamer, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

So begins...

Asmodeus's Story

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