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The Dream Of The Woken

The Dream Of The Woken

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Private roleplay, though if really interested, application may be possible.

1,451 readers have visited The Dream Of The Woken since Kilgannon created it.

Dragonair are listed as curators, giving them final say over any conflict & the ability to clean up mistakes.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

http://www.angelarium.net/

Introduction

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xem·a·nate - to originate from; be produced by





xAll things flow from the center.
xTo know them is Divine, to seek them is Impassioned.
xThey converse slowly, under the moon.
xThe passage of their conversation is also that of time.
xThe words that they exchange are us.
xWe are a never-ending story told.

xFear is the heart of Love.
xIt licks the wounds that it inflicts.
xStrength is gained in weakness.
xThose that live without Fear do not live.
xThose that live without Love are cursed.
xTo be cursed is a blessed thing.

xTo Emanate is to manifest.
xShadowed thoughts and guarded feelings given form.
xThe freedom granted is constricting.
xThey are shackled to their Creators.
xSymbiosis takes root.
xA life-long dependency.

xIn orbit slain, the Pyramid atones.
xThe penance it pays affects us all.
xThe plains have become land of light and thunder.
xBeings from above lay beneath.
xIn heart and mind, they linger.
xThe Angels watch over us all.

xWhen they fall, will you be near?
xWhen the Bells ring, will you hear?
xWill you answer their call?

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ImageThe world, hereby referred to as Enoch, has moved on. There are remnants of what once was a global civilization, but they are long since ancient and undisturbed. Its inhabitants are mostly extinct, with the exception of some more persistent creatures.

Eden, the only human settlement, houses every single remaining one of the human race that has survived since the events of the Pyramid. Over the hundreds of years that have passed, it has grown and developed enough to become self-sustaining. At the center of Eden lies what many consider the Tree of Life, a large tree which seems to span and twist in on itself. This tree is the root of their survival.

All the land outside of Eden is infertile, thus rendering it unlikely for long-term survival. The only things that roam these lands are packs of wild animals and creatures known as the Fallen. The Fallen are faceless, humanoid beings that are physically identical. They are strong telekinetics and marked with the insignia of the Pyramid.

Because the events are not properly cataloged, and regarding their markings, the Fallen are assumed to have originated from the Pyramid itself at some point. Whether or not they are the cause of the planet's dying is unknown, but they are highly aggressive and generally to be avoided, or hunted down in designated task forces.

Upon their death, the Fallen produce what the people have commonly come to call 'Halos', disc-shaped concentrations of pure energy. Halos serve many purposes, especially when refined down to a purer substance. Halos are used as an energy source, mainly, as a single one can power their entire population for about a week. It is up to the Bells to keep up their renewal.

The Bells are an organization of people that regulate the retrieval of halos, responsible for the energy supply and defense of their people. They are chosen by the Angels at a young age, and are gifted with abilities beyond those of normal people. Using halos, Bells are capable of learning to use telekinetic powers and, through unlikely odds, how to summon Emanations.

Emanations are weapons, manifestations of all negative emotion, brought into existence by the combined efforts of a skilled Bell and an Angel. This process essentially splits the Bell into two halves. Upon their creation, Emanations are bound to their Bell permanently.

Recently, Herald, a messenger branch of the Bells, has reported multiple large sandstorms in a nearby area and have logged sightings of a fast, scarfed figure running at the forefront of them. The status of this figure is unknown, and so the Virtues, the quite effective combatant division of the Bells, are putting together a task force to run reconnaissance and gather as much information as they can, as well as collect any Halos along the way.

Meanwhile Crash journeys across the desolate wastelands of Enoch, following a potential lead on the location of Ohr Ein Sof, the Infinite Light. Her quest has taken her far from home, and she is soon to be on the precipice of finding out whether or not it was all in vain. Regardless of her findings, she is to report back to Eden when done.

The threads of fate unravel here, and it is you that determines how they are stranded back together. What lays beyond in the Pyramid may very well hold the key to everything. Rumors spread through random acts of discourse, but some that speak the truth may yet slip through the cracks.

Those determined to choose their own destiny: renounce.

The Angels have plans for us all.

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Toggle Rules

The GM of this roleplay hasn't created any rules! You can do whatever you like!

The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 8 authors

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Steadfast Character Portrait: Mourning Character Portrait: Crash Character Portrait: Faux Pas Character Portrait: Ace
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The wind both roared and whispered as a figure traversed across the barren wasteland, which had once played host to both vegetation and animal life. It bore a scarf, which trailed off behind it like two tails, whipping and swirling with the dust in the air. Its stride was a determined one, as the figure braced itself against the oncoming winds and pressed on defiantly. Five hundred miles southeast of its position lay Eden, where the last flame of humanity struggled to keep aflame. This figure has originated there, after all, and knew the worst of it all firsthand. It had been shepherded away from the rest of the sheep by the Angels, as it often was, and sent out to find the Infinite Light.



It was, in the end, a she and she was known only by the name of Crash. At her side rest her Emanation, Wake, a sword with holy properties and intimidation factor that was only doubled by its wielder. Despite her prowess with the weapon, it mainly stayed unused, as her telekinetic powers proved to be enough in their own right when it came to dealing with the Fallen. This desert she roamed was one of many, and it so happened to have a sister desert nine hundred miles to the east. It was in this sister desert that a separate team was on the hunt for a figure leaving sandstorms in its wake. Crash felt, for once, almost fortunate that it wasn't her that had to be dealing with it. No, she had a much more important task at hand.



Her journey felt timeless, and the only indication against this was the gradual darkening of what little sky she saw through the sands. Night was growing near, and soon her surroundings indicated so, as features were becoming harder and harder to make out through both the sand and the darkness. Soon all light was gone and Crash halted, standing there in the dark and feeling the rapid cooling of the air. Her hand went to her hip and with a clink of metal, she was enveloped in light. It illuminated her immediate surroundings and the blowing sand stopped dead upon touching it, falling straight to the ground. Soon, it had warmed her and she raised the same hand to adjust the ballcap that sat on her head before pressing on.



This went on for some time, and to an outside observer, her movements may have seemed aimless, but something was guiding her, although what exactly was beyond her explanation. She continued to follow what she felt and eventually found herself entering a quarry, stone walls steeply rising up on either side of her and curving towards the back. As she ventured inward, she came across a large, gnarled tree. It seemed to emulate the Tree of Life in stature, and Crash was certain she saw the roots twist off indefinitely before determining it was just a trick of the light. Whatever life this tree had contained, however, seemed to have been long dead. Crash mused if it died when the planet did, but the light she had been emanating suddenly cutting off interrupted her thoughts. The sudden darkness had surprised her, though she showed no outward indication of this. Before she could gather her thoughts, a large concentrated pillar of light erupted from the tree, lighting the sky as if it were day. Crash reasoned that this could be seen by those back home and her companions in the east.



Soon, the light overtook everything and when it finally cleared Crash immediately picked up on her displacement. The temperature was different, and there was still sun in the sky. As she regained her sight, she took note that there was a tree of similar stature in front of her, but her surroundings had entirely changed. Desert no longer, Crash gathered that she was in what resembled a swamp. The air was hot and sticky, and Crash could hear bogs of liquid bubbling through the thick mist that hung in the air. If the heat physically bothered her in her thick clothing, she showed no sign of it. Her hand went to rest on Wake, and she instinctively set out again, guided by some innate compass. She felt close.

She continued.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Mourning
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Boring... dull... whatever other words she could use to describe the situation she was in right now. Leaning to the side her head came to rest against the metal sphere that only had a little size on her skull. Stellar floated in the air, the weight of the ball held up by the mystical force its better half could control. Her legs dangled over the edge, the girl swaying them forward and backward in a childlike manor. Her swaying feet occasional colliding with the chair dangling from bottom of Stellar, a slight clinking piercing the otherwise silent place.

She didn't know what her seat was beyond the obvious, it was rather high up, the height she was at matching that of single storied home. It was a bone of some kind, a rib given the curvature, to what it used to belong to or why it was here, that was irrelevant to her. A strong breeze blew by, Stellar's chain let our aggravated noises, the dirt from the surrounding area blew past the seated lass. The breeze blew into her back, dirt found itself in her short hair and on the cloth the covered her body. As the breeze stopped so to did Stellar's moaning, and the Mourning finally let on a slight smile.

Being told to wait was no fun, killing this thing was at least of slight entertainment. Even if unlike others, it would never scream and plead, it would at least fight back. Having something pathetically think it stands a chance, that it ever stood a chance, but either way it was trying to kill you. Lifting her head from the metal orb, a wicked smirk grew on her visage. When she thought of it as the beast struggling for dear life, trying to kill her, it was stimulating.

Not a single glance had been given to the foe that had arrived, yet upon sighting its enemy the Fallen was prepared to terminate it. The task she had been given was simple enough, the angels seemed to want to waste her time. All to wait and kill one Fallen? The silence of the field caused the simple act of the Fallen soaring through the air toward her to be audible. As its attack would have collided with her skull, Stellar arrived instead, the blow absorbed with a loud clang bursting out. Stellar was unmoved by the hit, a full force uninterrupted hit from this Fallen was pathetic.

As quickly as it dashed in, the think backed off to prepare another attack, Mourning would try to have some fun with this simpleton. Her left arm crossed her chest under the breast, while the other conducted the movements of Stellar. The Fallen was stupid, it would dash in and attack with utter predictability, even its attempts to catch her off guard were slow and predictable. She went through simple motions with the squirming thing, it would attack, be blocked, dash back, and attack again, it kept squirming and squirming, she couldn't help but giggle at the mindless thing.

Even if it wasn't mindless, it didn't matter to her, no strategy the pathetic thing could come up with would penetrate her guard. It's thirtieth attempt to kill her, then her giggling suddenly stopped, her smile vanishing with it. Stellar flew straight at the thing with murderos intent, coming from a resting position it wasn't even close to her fastest attack, but even so it was an intense speed. The Fallen sidestepped the simple attack, dashing toward her once more, perhaps expecting to hit her without her guardian. It's attack of course missed, she easily dodged to the side, and jumped off her ledge past the Fallen. As she leaped into the air she spoke to the brainless squirming insect

"I'm bored."

As she leaped past she conducted Stellar to fly past it again. The chain found itself around the upper half of the Fallen, its arms compressed to its sides. The metal head of Stellar collapsed to the ground, his slender body now being controlled by her telekinesis. The chains held it in place, slowly tightening, the thing still thought it may escape. Her jovial nature returned, even if it felt no pain, it still struggled and writhed around in its bindings. It would realize soon it was dead, so she might as well end her little game here. Raising her right hand to her lips, Mourning blew the struggling insect a kiss, outstretching her arm with the motion. At the end, she clenched her fist, and the chains restraining the Fallen met each other in the center where is torso was moments ago. Split in half by the pressure, it was slain.

As per protocol, she took the Halo the thing dropped, first she would take this to the angels. If they didn't have another assignment for her, perhaps she would have some fun with the Virtues. Whatever was in that sandstorm, she hoped it would entertain her.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Steadfast Character Portrait: Faux Pas Character Portrait: Ace
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x x x x x x x x xJOKER __* ace

Ace enjoyed the dream-like solitude that only the desert at night could bring. But the hum of another's breath quickly broke the illusion, and he was once again reminded that an Angel hung over his head like a sword. He himself made little sound, accustomed to the rhythm of the terrain and life outside Eden. Whereas the other Virtues whispered amongst themselves, the young man chose to concentrate at the task at hand, blue eyes straining in the dark to find their target. So far, their search had turned up nothing but Fallen and sand, although the former had since been harvested for Halos.

Sand crept into the crevices of his mask, and he paused to shake it off, for he'd need it later should a sandstorm, and possibly their target, decide to appear. His team of Virtues had yet to be truly challenged in their current task, but somehow he could feel that the time to test their abilities would come soon.

"Pause." Though his voice was faint, the command carried through and everyone stilled. A breeze blew past, and beyond that, the howl of even stronger winds. The Virtues' eyes searched, but all attention was quickly centered to a flash of light in the distant west. Crash? Ace wasn't sure, but he wasn't given much time to ponder it. Almost as if the lightning was a call, something moved. Dust and sand rose from the ground, glowing silver and looking almost alive with the power of the moon. But experience has taught him better.

Without another word, Joker was summoned and Ace pulled the mask to cover his face. He dodged backwards as a Fallen lunged at him, using his Emanation to push it away and into the waiting weapon of another Bell. His eyes reflected the light of the moon, glowing eerily as he used his telekenetic powers to redirect and push the Fallen into the traps the Virtues laid out. Everything was going rather well.

A quick hit to the back of his head sent him sprawling, with only his mask preventing him from eating a mouthful of sand. He was quick to regain his balance and from the corner of his eye, he thought he saw scarf moving in the wind. Ace couldn't be certain though; the world still spun despite the fact he was already upright, and it broke the Fallen free from his powers.

He reset. Ace simply used Joker to keep them away from him, trying to get his bearings once again. When he thought he finally managed to regain his full faculties, he thought he was still seeing double. Because if his eyes were right, the Fallen now outnumbered them when earlier their numbers were evenly matched. Shit.


Setting

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Character Portrait: Steadfast Character Portrait: Faux Pas Character Portrait: Ace
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#, as written by Jedly
A caged small bird awakened…

The last bastion of humanity. That’s what they were fighting for. Not only for the prolongment of their own lives, but also for that of others. At least there were enough Bells so that the weight resting Faux’s shoulders in particular was nothing substantial. That was his modest way of thinking. Keep believing that there is so much more he could contribute, and he would only continue to do as such.

Faux tried to disperse his weight as the team of virtues made its trek through the desolate scape. Perhaps if he was to dig really, really deep, he would be able to catch a glimpse of what this world used to be like, before it was lost to time and tribulation. Once in a blue moon he would stumble across a skeleton that used to contain life, but such flames had long since been extinguished. Now, all that roamed these barren wastelands were humans… and them. This trio, albeit not the most cohesive, had managed to pave through whatever opposition decided to crop up. They all were essentially almost as good as Bells could get, just a step short of the one-man armies which were issued solo missions.

”...Anyways, so I said to the guy, ‘Hey, buddy, my mouth’s down here’ and lemme tell ya, was he scared sh…” Zeitgeist, Faux’s emanation, was quietly maintaining a conversation with Steadfast while Ace took vanguard. They spoke in a hushed tone, as if their pointman was going to lash out at them at any moment. Only if that was in his character. But Ace wasn’t a talkative one, yet, he still had the ability to form words, unlike a certain somebody.

The blade of Zeitgeist was fairly generic and resembled a common longsword. But things get interesting when the upper part of the weapon is scrutinized. The fuller suddenly ceased its deep burrow near the portion closest to the hilt, and in its place was a set of jaws outfitted with lines of serrated teeth. It faced opposite from Faux when the sword was drawn, obviously. Proceeding that was an ordinary hilt, accentuated by slivers of gold which had long lost its luster after multiple encounters.

Faux spotted it too. His eyes were instantly drawn to the sudden flash of light in the dim atmosphere. After digging his feet firmly into the ground, but not to such an extent that he would have to expend extra energy to propel himself, his hand instinctively began to creep towards Zeitgeist’s grip. That seemed to have been a good call, because within the blink of an eye the virtues were engulfed in combat. He drew his weapon in one deft motion and blocked the claws of a Fallen right off the bad. He gritted his teeth as his own endurance was pressed against that of something lacking sentience. Out of his peripheral vision he noticed a figure flying at him. ”Seriously, Ace?” He quickly shoved the beast’s head back and swiftly fixated himself on the Fallen soaring through the air. With one hand, he swung the blade towards the being, and felt its edge connect with the Fallen’s anterior limbs. It collided with the sand and autonomously struggled to gain a footing even in the absence of two legs. Its head pitifully writhed in the sand. With both hands, Faux focused Zeitgeist and brought the blade down into its scalp.

Faux took a moment to collect himself and check up on the status of his comrades. Steadfast was keeping… steadfast. Meanwhile, Ace appeared to have just received a hit, but was currently regaining his composure. The discomfort on his face was enough of a sign that things had gone downhill fast. All around them more Fallen emerged from the sand, letting out cries, as if to attract even more. Making a stand wasn’t an option. After assessing their options, Faux gave Zeitgeist a quick nod. The weapon glimmered in the moonlight, a sign that it understood its user’s intent. The virtue centered his vision on the Fallen from earlier, which was already in the midst of charging him. The Bell sidestepped the beast during its attack and left a clean slice in its hide. It faltered for just a second, but that was enough of an opening to go in for the kill. Just like that, Zeitgeist’s mandibles unhinged and bared down on its head, instantaneously causing it to go limp. After a few chomps, the collection of gold on the sword’s exterior suddenly glowed in the dark lighting.

”Everybody, cover your ears!” The weapon let out a screech that resonated throughout the whole area. Luckily, its pitch only heavily affected Fallen, which had been made obvious by the stunned assailants. Faux motioned to his fellow Virtues, and waited for one of them to take lead.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Steadfast Character Portrait: Faux Pas Character Portrait: Ace
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STEADFAST ϟ UNYIELDING


"You're going to get Faux into trouble one day I swear," Steadfast coughed as he covered his mouth.

Zeitgeist, unlike his partner, had the ability to speak and more than made up for the other's silence by constantly keeping up conversation while the others (namely Ace and Joker) preferred keeping to the missions at hand. It might have been stifling to some and that some included Steadfast. Were it not for the sword he'd likely have to resort to talking to his own Emanation and the pair of knuckles was no chatterbox themself.

Flash.

Steadfast turned around, seeing light pierce through the bleak sky and paused. Was that an Angel or something else? He was no scholar but he kept on guard. He hadn't counted how long the Virtues traveled nor how many Fallen turned to halos on the excursion but he knew that both had been scarce. Truthfully he was hoping for a bit more excitement, but he knew how often his wishes got himself in trouble. The wind picked up (not an uncommon occurrence), enveloping the team in sand and allowing the Fallen to ambush (unfortunately also not uncommon).

"Are you kidding me?" he sighed.

The outbreak of masks and Emanations told him no.

Unyielding levitated one of the Fallen and slammed it against the ground before their partner followed up with a kick to the torso.

Finish it.

The relationship between each Emanation and Bell differed as evidenced by the other two whether it was protection or destruction. In this case, they acted upon their partner's interests and augmented Steadfast's strength as the brown-haired boy punched downward. Often times, other Virtues joked that "Bash" would be a more appropriate name for the blunt way that Steadfast fought the Fallen, lacking any form of grace or subtlety. Everything he did was in the name of protecting Eden and grabbing halos rather than padding his status. Perhaps that consistency was what made their names so appropriate.

The metal reflected the glaring sun in a way but unlike the halos, it lacked any ethereal qualities. Brass seemed more appropriate a color than gold and the smooth edges only showed how little time he spent on the field. They hadn't spend a long time in the field, less time than Ace and certainly much less than Crash who served as the beacon of hope. Many admired her holy connection to the Angels and formidable Emanation. She'd left the group quite a while ago, with the only evidence of her being dubious at best.

The Fallen scrambled to get up, swiping at Steadfast only to meet another fist but his patience was waning. The creatures were increasing and they would need reinforcements unless they hurried.

At Zeitgeist's command, Steadfast covered his ears for a short moment. The screech reverberated through the area and stunned the Fallen long enough for Steadfast to charge toward the nearest one and pound it into the ground. He may not have had the slicing power that Ace and Faux Pas did, but he had the initiative.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Crash
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The sun did little to aid Crash in navigating the fog that hung heavy in the air, turning her surroundings into a grayscale. As she continued, she noticed her movements becoming sluggish, as if she were moving forward through water, and came to a standstill. A sensation of movement to her left caused her to cast her glance in that direction, resulting in a blast of psychic energy blowing a column of fog about five feet in width back several hundred feet. In the place of the now displaced fog stood nothing, and Crash meant to move on until a shimmer in the air of the column caught her eye.



YOU ARE FAR FROM YOUR NEST, LITTLE ONE.

The voice filled her head as if her own thought, and it spoke as both man and woman. Crash was used to this pervasive invasion of the mind, as the Angels that hung above Eden weren't reluctant to use it themselves. She considered it convenient, however, as this made communication between the two very different beings much easier.

"You will let me pass, deceiver, I was told of you and your ways. I was also told how to make your darkness become light."

Her voice was authoritative, strong. It carried a weight to it that rang out with such an attuned clarity it was hard not to be influenced when she spoke. The Watcher made itself known, bearing a head of smoke like hair that obscured its eyes and pooled from its own mouth. Two large butterfly wings were draped over its shoulders like a cloak, and the body of a dead snake was tied around the cloth that covered its bottom half in tatters. This was Sathariel, Angel of Deception. It stood on two feet, with a hand held to its chest and another extended to the South, pointing her.

WHY, OF COURSE. ONE SUCH AS I WOULD NOT DETER YOU FROM YOUR PATH NOW. NOT THIS TIME.

The amount of smoke that pooled from its mouth intensified and soon it was engulfed completely in it before blowing away and dispersing as the fog began to close back in.



She went South.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Nadir Character Portrait: Mourning
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Truth cannot be written, only experienced.

There is no beginning--nor ending.

There is no time, only space.

"You do not exist, but to be nothing is to be all things," Nadir whispered as he closed the moleskin.

The writings of a man known only as "Eli" managed to tell him everything and nothing all at the same time. Some found clarity in his words, but Nadir only found more questions regarding the origins of Enoch. For reasons unknown to him nobody documented the history of whatever reckoning came upon the world nor that of the Angels. God existed as an abstraction while the Angels chose those who could protect Eden from the Fallen. These were all facts known by the most average of men, yet the deeper he dug the less he felt he knew. There were Angels but there were also Watchers. There were the Fallen, but the Fallen were once human too.

He needed to search for more.

The texts in the Bells' Library could teach him no more and even Eli's journal ended on a cliffhanger. He needed to find more, learn more, and help in the only way he knew how. While the Bells provided his housing and reparations for his accident, they hardly expected much from his position save for a few insights on the selection process of the Angels. Much more was focused on practicality, on survival because that was all they could do in this time of peril. Nonetheless, Nadir took it seriously and had filed the proper paperwork to get his mission approved. He merely needed to find willing bodyguards as he could not travel on his own. The weather was far too harsh and the Fallen far too dangerous.

His first was his usual assistant, a greenhorn in the world of history but enthused to learn while the other...was less preferable. He heard the name "Mourning" passed around by both Heralds and Virtues, both of whom reviled her sadistic nature. Fallen or human, she would use anything to mitigate her boredom which made her the perfect Virtue had she been able to work on a team. He didn't know enough about her to make a true judgment but he knew he needed to be wary around the woman.

Shoving a box of dried meat into his backpack, Nadir now had all that he needed for his (hopefully) two week excursion. He could power his devices with the halo he'd saved up and he had little in the way of clothing. His only worry would be water, but that should not prove too much trouble as he had his flask over his shoulder.

Show me Raziel.

Perhaps by coincidence or by his Emanation choosing to speak once more, he felt himself pushed toward the gate and more assured of himself than he had been in a long time.

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Character Portrait: Yellowjacket
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"I have seen the rise of thousands of suns in front of me."

Yellowjacket's eyebrows were furrowed as she spoke to Sahaqiel, the Angel that hovered beside her. Its head was split in two vertically, a sphere similar to that of a large pearl suspended between the two halves. Behind its head floated what could only be described as a golden web, and several golden rings adorned its body. It remained silent and let Yellowjacket speak, despite having seen the rise of an endless amount of suns itself.

"Because of me, these people have seen those suns set, yet you deny me here? Even after accepting that-"

She visibly struggled with her words for a moment, eyes flaring.

"That monster!"

She was, of course, referring to Mourning, another Bell. One that went against everything she stood for, both as a person and as a Guardian. Why her behavior had been allowed for so long was beyond her reasoning, and served as a rare source of frustration for her. She crossed her arms in front of her, face returning to a withdrawn expression.

"And on top of that you let her in. What is it, only enough room in your toybox for one?"

She meant her half-sister Crash this time, and felt personally offended that her sister was used as a Dominion while she herself wasn't. Yellowjacket believed herself to be just as good of a Bell if not better than Crash. The only issue was that Yellowjacket had to work for it, and for Crash, it seemed effortless.




Sahaqiel spoke then, though through no mouth that seemed visible, its voice like that of windchimes caressed gently by the summer breeze.

"You know it is not my place, I act only as protector and you do not see me beg credit for it. If only you truly knew what timeless meant."

It paused, the air falling eerily silent.

"Or what it felt like. Perhaps I could show it to you."

Yellowjacket shuddered, unlike her sister, she didn't take as kindly to the invasion of her thoughts. Her life felt unnatural enough and she didn't need that added to it.

"No thank you, Sahaqiel, you know that I do not like when your kind does that. It's weird."

With a sigh she uncrossed her arms, moving a now free hand and grabbing at the dangling one of the Angel, to which it paid no mind. The contact comforted her and together, they looked out upon the expanse of what was known as Eden.

"It is just so easy to feel small here, y'know what I mean?"


Silence.



"That is because you are small. Infinitesimally so."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Cadence Character Portrait: Bloom
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Out of the sand, a figure does emerge.

Cadence stood at the edge of Eden, her attire impeccably clean and tidy. Impossibly so, given that she had just returned from a nearly month long excursion into the wilderness to the north. Such mystery was a part of her charm. She said nothing, in part because the gates would open for her regardless, but also because to speak would require conformity to rhythmic pattern which was a difficult task in itself. So there she stood, outside the gates, smiling contently despite the heat and the sluggishness with which the gates trudged open. She was in no hurry. Israfel was as patient as any angel. A lifespan which spanned eternity tended to do that.



"From land of ash and dust, your Bell returns." Cadence spoke, the rhythm of her voice mirroring that of Israfel. The angel, which sat in reverie across from her in it's sanctum, did not technically, but rather it's voice resounded, accompanied by music that could only exist within the boundless realms of imagination, within the young woman's head.

"Pray tell, Cadence, daughter of song,
Through the tall gates, standing open
What lies beyond the horizon?"




"It is as you predicted, Seraphim.
Expanse of naught but dust and snow, the north.
What mysteries it holds, I could not say.
Perhaps with time, our luck may yet reverse."


The angel didn't respond. Perhaps, like Cadence, it needed time to formulate it's words so that they fit it's own metrical pattern. That was unlikely. Israfel was an angel. Had it wanted to respond, it would have already. After a brief moment of silence, which in the presence of Israfel sounded like the space between two musical notes, Cadence spoke once more.

"With leave, I'll leave. With Bloom I must converse." She smirked a bit at her own rhyme. Israfel did not. It was not the angel of humor. She wondered if such an angel even existed as she exited the sanctum.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Nadir Character Portrait: Mourning
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Animal, accompany the limp one, Nadir.

The voice of cloaked crystal ball reverberated in her head, an unwelcome and foreign intrusion into her mind. Yet at the same time she was used to it.

You must protect him Animal, should he or his aide fall, you shall join them.
Excuse yourself from my sight Animal.


"Oh, but of course dear Eistibus."

Excusing herself from the chamber the Angel of Divination had been in, she grabbed a sack of provisions that had been prepared for her ahead of time. Another Bell had probably been told to get them, it order to prevent her from going to town and taking them herself. Always out to prevent her from having fun these folk were.

Avoiding any densely populated areas, the women made haste to the gates. There was little point in delaying, the sooner she had left the sooner she would be free of their gazes. Even if they didn't want to make themselves known she was entirely aware they tried to keep a close watch on her. Whatever that pathetic division of Bells was called, if an opportunity ever came up she would enjoy slaughtering them. They had been the ones to catch her prior to being a Bell, they tried to execute her, and Mourning wished to return the favor.

The destination was in sight, and so were the two she would be enjoying this excursion with. Nadir, he had an Emanation, so he had to be at least vaguely competent. However in his current state he was a sitting duck, no fun to clash with, and annoying to protect. Word had it he was a clever man, perhaps his wits could entertain her.

Whoever his aide was however, they were lucky she wouldn't crush them a couple minutes after leaving town. Like most of the Bell, she barely considered them more interesting then a regular civilian.

Emerging forth, the women waved to the two, the rattling of the attached chain singing in tandem. Stellar floated in the air nearby her, perhaps the worst part of her Emanation was that she constantly needed to use her telekinetic power to move. Like a constant training exercise the metal weight always hung by her.

Mourning did not introduce herself, and beyond waving at them expressed no interest for her travel group. Walking straight past them as if to lead the way. Only once ahead did she look back and make eye contact with the group. Her visage was clear of emotion, her words a stern warning.

"Don't get in my way."

Her eyes moved away and she began forward once more. Weeks wandering with just these two, hopefully there were plenty of Fallen. Surely she would be bored out of her mind without them, and no one would like that.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Bloom
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Even in the wastelands, blooms of color can still be found. One such Bloom found her route taking her through the steets of Eden, a hoop rolling in front of her and a stick in her hand to guide it. She hummed and skipped as she skipped, balancing and pushing the hoop forward with a stick. The Bloom twirled whenever fancy struck, and made the short trek into more of a dance than a walk. She was happy, full of smiles and full of color. And why wouldn't she be? The Bloom had just gotten word that Cadence had returned to Eden.



She spun again, as the Sanctum grew in scope as she drew nearer. The Bloom, like Cadence, was a Herald, though what that amounted to for the past few days was to help organize the reams and sheaves of information they'd collected. The library was stifling, suffocating, and creatively barren, yet she did as asked. The Bloom was nothing if not the dutiful sort, and it made the moment she could finally escape the prison of tomes and paper all that sweeter. As fortunates would have it, Cadence had chosen to return on a day without a cloud in the sky. Serendipitous, she thought, as he citrine eyes drifted upward toward the sky. Even in the wasteland, beauty was still present.



The Bloom guided the hoop again, using the stick to speed the hoop's pace up. It was a curious sight, as the hoop the Bloom pushed was no mere hoop, but an emanation. A Petal of the Bloom, her emanation was a large bladed ring, which left a thin line in the ground as it rolled forward. Petal rose nearly to her belly, quite a size considering the Bloom was not so dimunitive herself. She was no petite flower, but a hardy sunflower whose face was always turned toward the sun. Petal struck a stone in its path, causing it to jump into the hair, leaving the Bloom to hope in sequence, the air filling with her laughter.



The Sanctum grew in the horizon, it wouldn't be long before the Bloom and Cadence would reunite. She enjoyed the way the woman spoke in measure, and the rhythm to her words. Perhaps she would bring about the dawn to the library's dusk and brighten her day all that much more. Petal began to list toward the side, and instead of righting it with the stick, she allowed it to tip. The stick clattered to the ground as she dropped it and as the ringblade fell, she caught it with the telekinesis afforded to the Bells. She brought it to her and gripped its handle. Stepping into the ringblade she brought it around herself and jumped over it as it passed her feet again.



She traveled the rest of the way in this manner, jummpin through the hoop like a rope.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Steadfast Character Portrait: Faux Pas Character Portrait: Ace
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The sound of fighting filled Ace's ears, but he was quick to understand Faux - Zeitgeist's instructions. He dove to the sand, dodging an incoming attack, and covered his ears as the weapon stunned the Fallen into stillness. Steadfast was the first to recover, pummelling the nearest enemy into the ground. Ace was the next, sand pouring from his clothes like a waterfall as he used his short staff to give the enemy directly in front of him a hard knock to the head. It gave way, and as the body turned to dust, a halo was left behind. He would pick it up later; the Fallen were of greater priority at the moment.

Blue eyes assessed the situation, gauging how many they could handle before they had to retreat. One two... six more than us. They could handle it; the issue was if more Fallen would arrive. They were at the risk of being completely overwhelmed if they summoned any more.

A Bell struggled to fight and Ace approached, using his powers to hold the sand still. With its feet locked, it couldn't move, though he knew he couldn't keep it up for long. His eyes met with Faux and they both lunged at it, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the sound of their weapons hitting its vulnerable form. Around them, many others were revived by the momentum Faux and Zeitgeist forced, handling the numerous enemies with considerable more ease than they'd had mere moments before. As another Fallen fell, he felt himself still again. A scarfed figure stood just outside the battle zone, looking, listening... studying them before noticing Ace's gaze on it. Ace knew it was staring back at him, though the night and its muffler revealed nothing. Was it a man? A Fallen? Maybe even an Angel? He didn't know. What he did know is that they'd been tasked to learn more about this enigma.

"Take caee of it." Without anymore explanation than that, the white-haired male left, running after the figure. Others looked at him in curiosity as he did, but Ace paid them no mind, trying not to slip on the dunes as he hastened his steps. The figure proved much more adept at traversing the sand, almost as if he could bend them to his will with natural ease. Before long, a breeze blew past to cover his steps and erase its figure from view. Either it understood the rhythms of Enoch's deserts on a level beyond any normal Fallen, or the scarfed creature simply made sandstorms of its own will.

When he returned to the fight, a Bell had its emanation pierce through what appeared to be the last Fallen. The others had started gathering the halos, though Faux and Steadfast looked at him in question, obviously wondering where he'd decided to run off to mid-fight. Streams of silver filtered down as the young male pulled off his mask and shook his cloak, removing the additional weight off his slight form.

With the mask gone, anyone could see the furrow of his brows, a clear indication his irritation. "The scarfed figure was here. It got away." His Emanation disappeared as he knelt down to pick up a fallen halo, lightly blowing off the sand before placing it into his container. He frowned at seeing its fullness, and a quick survey showed that everyone else was in a similar situation. They'd been outside longer than he'd realized. "We should return to Eden soon. Give them the halos and replenish our supplies."





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Character Portrait: Nadir Character Portrait: Mourning
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Knowledge is a recursive pursuit.

Do you always speak in riddles? Nadir asked.

I have many faces dear one. Raziel's voice boomed, following as an echo behind the historian.

The limping man walked slowly toward the marketplace where he would first be meeting his aide. Many came and went in the past, usually interns; however, this one already had their notebook ready to write down whatever he'd planned on discovering.

"Where are we heading first Mr. Nadir?" the woman asked.

"Mourning," he replied as they walked toward the gate.

His staff rested in the loops of his backpack straps, not yet needed as a walking stick whilst he clutched his water flask as he was unsure when the heat would get to him. By comparison his aide maintained her composure through the heat, the sun, and up until she saw the black-haired Virtue known only as "Mourning." She drew the feeling of apprehension if not full on fear. For being such a young woman she had more kills under her belt than most seasoned Virtues yet suffered none of the symptoms that came with having to watch your comrades die around you.

She knew she would have to tread careful if she didn't want her head bludgeoned off.

The two soon arrived at the outpost where the black-haired woman stood with her Emanation, a flail with the head of a morning star, floated idly.

"Ah yes, you must be Mourning. I am Nadir and this is-"

He trailed off when she moved ahead of them, lacking any interest in the pair until she shot her head back.

"Don't get in my way."

Nadir sighed inwardly as he hobbled behind the slightly faster Mourning and his aide who kept her Emanation hidden from plain sight.

"We will be heading east for fifteen miles so hopefully the Virtues will take care of the oncoming storm."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Steadfast Character Portrait: Faux Pas Character Portrait: Ace
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#, as written by Jedly
As soon as the last Fallen fell to the earth, also did Faux. Not out of disablement, he was simply tired from the engagement and wanted to catch his breath. His eyes locked onto his chest as it repeated the process of rising and falling. Although he still had the same stern expression plastered onto his face, he too was human and required time to rest. ”Well somebody hasn’t met their quota maintaining personal fitness this week.” This ridicule was followed by a sound vaguely close to a tongue clicking, albeit Zeitgeist didn’t exactly have a tongue, it had become skilled in mimicking verbal patterns over time. This fact was further bolstered by the haughty laugh that escaped the blade.

Some Bells followed suit and took the chance to relax while others started gathering the fruit of their efforts. Halos. The energy source the remainder of humanity had come to rely on. Kind of ironic that their only hope of surviving derives from the very beings that put them in this state of affairs. But unfortunately, being a pedantic was only a delicacy in this age. ”Hey, Steadfast? You alive over there?” Zeitgeist called out as sand fell of Faux’s body in streams when he rose. The Bell began to look around for the third musketeer, scanning over his comrades for that unique and scruffy outward appearance Ace sported, but the guy was nowhere in sight. He could’ve sworn that he saw a flash of silver whiz through the battle, but he originally thought it was just a halo sent aimlessly flying in the midst of the whole shebang.

His gaze finally settled upon the aforementioned Bell, who to both his and all of the Bells’ dismay, did not seem to be in a happy mood. Faux maintained his iconic taciturn demeanor, facing his leader with a quiet vibe, notifying him that he was open to listen. The young man wondered what he aggravated his fellow Bell, but he soon received his answer. Turns out their target had given them the slip. It was rare for something that Ace was deadset on to escape his grasp, so this revelation had Faux mildly surprised. He- or, well, Zeitgeist would have to ask him about the details after they had returned to Eden. As if reading his wielder’s mind, the sword piped up and supported the decision, ”Yeah, that’s a pretty plausible idea if I’ve ever heard one. And trust me, I’ve heard quite a few. We’re ready to head out whenever you are. We definitely got a bigger haul than we were expecting!”

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Character Portrait: Steadfast Character Portrait: Crash Character Portrait: Faux Pas Character Portrait: Ace
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As Crash ventured South, she entered a forested area, with trees whose roots gnarled and twisted outwards over a large area. She identified them as Mangrove trees, which told her that this swampland was brackish and that she was almost certainly on a coast. But was she headed towards the ocean or just walking along it? The air was still around her and she came to a halt, taking this opportunity to raise an arm and rub at her forehead with a sleeve. As her arm fell back to her side, Crash tilted her head slightly, cocking her ear towards the faintest of sounds.



Waves? Judging by the volume, she was at least half a mile away from its source, but at least she now had a heading. Tossing all concept of heading South aside, Crash viscerally turned in the direction of the waves and produced a waterskin from her pocket, conservatively taking two drinks, and charged on. As she approached and the crashing of the waves gradually grew in a crescendo, she was able to discern that she would come up on a rocky shore. Soon enough, she did. The tide seemed particularly low, and Crash made out several rock pools before turning her eyes to the horizon.



A tree, not unlike the one she arrived here with by any means, but it did seem fundamentally bigger to her. Still, somehow she could feel that it was not her prize, but regardless she had been led to it for a reason, had she not? As she approached, she braced herself for the sudden displacement, but it never came. Eventually she made it up to the tree itself, finding herself wondering just like the last time if perhaps this one really was dead. Unknown to her at the time, however, it was the tree's partner that had really died.



Crash reached a hand out and placed her palm flat against the bark of the tree, and that was when the pillar of light erupted, although the likeliness of this one being seen by her compatriots was minimal. Had the bridge between this tree and its partner still been intact, Crash would have been able to continue her quest from there and indeed would have been another step closer to her goal. But it wasn't, and instead a different set of prerequisites for travel were met, resulting in Crash being displaced in more ways than one.



As the light filled her vision, Crash felt a sensation much different from the last time, and found herself doubly disorientated after the fact. Again, the first thing she was able to determine was that the surrounding temperature had changed, in fact, it was much, much cooler. She could hear voices. Distant, faint. Familiar? As her vision regained, she first made out all of the sand. She was back in a desert, but was this the same one? Her surroundings didn't match that of the quarry she had started in at all. And to top it all off, she picked up on the time of day. It was still night, not much later, she surmised, than when she had initially been whisked away. The only problem was that she had been gone for hours now, at least five or six. Did time flow different where she was, had that still been Enoch? Or did the tree somehow take her back in time? These questions she would have to pose to the Angels.



For now, she had to find the source of the voices she heard and get a bearing on her current location. Her hand never went to Wake, regardless of whatever company she had stumbled upon, she doubted she would need it. As she grew closer and pinpointed the voice, she knew she wouldn't need it. As she made it to the top of a sand dune and entered eyesight range, the visuals only further confirmed it. The first thing she saw only seemed to increase the inconvenience of her transportation here.



Zeitgeist.

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Enoch by Kilgannon

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Character Portrait: Nadir
3 sightings Nadir played by ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

Character Portrait: Bloom
2 sightings Bloom played by Talisman

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