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The Multiverse

Wing City

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a part of The Multiverse, by Remæus.

You have entered Wing City, the third largest city on Terra and its premier capital. Hustling and bustling with activity, this city serves as a hub of social and political activity, as well as the prestigious solo combat capital of the quadrant.

Remæus holds sovereignty over Wing City, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

13,112 readers have been here.

Setting

If Terra is a multicultural melting pot of a planet, then Wing City is its rich, bubbling core. The seat of the Terran National Government and the de-facto Capital of the world, there is very little on Terra that is not represented in some way in this bustling city. As diverse in its architecture as it is in its people, the city gives across a patchwork feel – sleek and post-modern skyscrapers stand side by side with traditional centuries-old stonework – including the massive wall which encircles much of it. Despite this, Wing City is by and large a modern and thriving city, supporting a wide variety of facilities from state of the art hospitals and expansive public libraries to its very own spaceport. The city isn’t all high-rising neatness, however, with large stretches of it beyond the walls in need of serious renovation.

The City extends around a large green gardens area at its centre, at its most pristine within the haven of natural beauty that has survived decades of conflict. A single vast street stretches from the gardens at the centre all the way to the main entrance at its southernmost point, along which many of its most famous landmarks are located – including the notorious Gambit Building, the reputed centre of martial learning that is the Master’s Dojo, and the home of the Terran National Government.

The housing of the city progresses from its most expensive residences being located nearby to the gardens - with the awe-inspiring Sol Tower proudly reaching into the sky amongst them - to the cheaper and more tightly packed housing generally being found further east; amongst amenities such as the fire department, the post office and the police station. To the north of this area lies the business district, within which the headquarters of many of the city’s most prominent corporations can be found, along with the odd building of obscenely expensive studio apartments overlooking well-maintained streets and a sea of suits. It is in this northern portion of the city where the spaceport lies, a constant stream of both personal and trade ships generally seen ascending and descending from it.

In the southwest, the social hub of the city can be found just off of Main Street. Wing City Plaza boasts all sorts of entertainment, from restaurants to nightclubs – even an Arena a short way to the north. The Plaza is also home to public facilities such as the hospital and other administrative buildings.

Aside from Main Street, the city’s entrances can be found to the eastern side of the city where a massive gate is set into the wall, the road beyond leading through the slums and off to the coast, as well as the smaller western gate leading to a nearby lake. Finally, there is a long open highway leading out of the city to the southeast.

The culture of Wing City is, as one might expect from a city so diverse, almost impossible to comprehensively describe. There are communities for all races, all religions and all species; for the magically inclined and the space-travellers. Anyone can find their niche somewhere within the city’s walls, or even create their own. With a thriving economy, nightlife and nigh-on overflowing population, it’s no surprise that the benefits of such a busy city come hand in hand with danger. Crime is a serious concern within the city, and although the WCPD are one of the finest forces on the planet – equipped to deal with all manner of threat, both natural and supernatural – there remains a level of danger in walking the streets alone. Whether it be organized crime in the form of gangs and cults, the more chaotic lashing out of individuals or the hunger of vampire or demon and the like, citizens and visitors alike are advised to watch their backs.

So whether it’s to enjoy the sights, build a home and career or just to make trouble – welcome to Wing City.

A surprise waits around every corner.

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Wing City

You have entered Wing City, the third largest city on Terra and its premier capital. Hustling and bustling with activity, this city serves as a hub of social and political activity, as well as the prestigious solo combat capital of the quadrant.

Minimap

Wing City is a part of Midland.

34 Places in Wing City:

350 Characters Here

Palia McShann [176] A pretty, easygoing 20 year-old, with a fuzzy kiwi compainion and a talent for mind control.
Iante Clowes [164]
Michael Connor [123] A close-combat trainer for the WCPD and related organisations.
Telsia [121] Is now a vampire, she has been training and learning to control her thirst but has gained quite a temper.
Jason LeMat [82] "Yeah.... I know he's dead... but give me five minutes with him. I'll get the information you want."
Mason Apolo [80] "Yes i know, i look frail and weak, but i'm not!"
Belvia [72]
Noah and Milo Cole [67] brothers....
Kitt Dreyer [64] "Want me to Give you a Permanent Smile?"

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Setting

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Character Portrait: Treize Khushrenada
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The city had taken on a desolate silence after the attack. Those that survived had either fled the area altogether or hunkered down in the few remaining shelters to try and ride out the rest of whatever it was that had begun that night.

The moon cast a milky light over the rubble. No one stirred. No one dared. When the rumbling began, it was because of this blanket of silence that it was so ominous. It was coming from the west, somewhere across the horizon. As it approached, getting closer and closer, the rocks and slabs of concrete and steel shook from the heavy vibrations.

When the first tank rolled into view it carried with it a sense of foreboding. Then came another, and another, like black shadows sweeping down into the city, moving over anything that stood in their way. And still, beneath it all, was that silence.

Their footsteps were hidden beneath the rumble of tanks: soldiers, thousands of them. They marched behind the line of mechanical deathtraps, clad all in black, their shined visors reflecting all of the emptiness around them and not the slightest hint of emotion.

Then the mortars began to fly. Propelled from the tanks’ turrets soared missiles of all types, screeching through the air to collide with the few standing buildings. Some shot blatantly into piles of already broken rubble. These flashes continued, moving just ahead of the line as it advanced. Where they passed, no rock was left unscathed.

Then they stopped. It was as though a silent order had been issued, and in unison every tank, every soldier came to an abrupt halt. Clouds of white fog slipped from beneath those helmets as the men waited, motionless, guns at the ready. The tanks shuddered as the engines were turned off. The silence returned.

The scream would be heard, distantly at first, then closer, closer as it approached. It was unearthly; inhuman. The soldiers and tanks remained still as that long, rocket-propelled missile soared over their heads, reflected for a moment against any shined surface among them. It went forward about two miles, then dove into the ground.

It would be as though a fissure in the earth’s curst itself had been torn. There was no sound for a few moments, and then that roar would fill the night as rock scraped against rock and building upon building toppled into the hole. And the missile kept burrowing down; down; down…

A mile beneath the city’s surface, that missile finally exploded. The resulting explosion mushroomed up, surging through the hole it had created to bring forth a pillar of fire into the sky. The area was lit as if by daylight for a few moments. Then it was cold and dark again, the mushroom cloud spreading down and over the landscape. And that awful silence.

Through the smoke and the smog they began their march again. It was a slow, deliberate march, and nothing survived where it passed. A father crawled from the wreckage of a nearby building. His hands were held high, and he motioned inside, saying something about children; a wife. The mortar shell silenced him in an instant. The building collapsed entirely behind him.

Now the soldiers had their work. Surging past the tanks, they broke into a military trot, the night vision of their visors giving them a clear picture of the surroundings. A sign of heat appeared to the left. They would fire. It would fall. Another figure tried to make a dash past a group of soldiers examining a fallen hotel. The screams of a child followed a short volley of gunfire.

Suddenly there came another of those eerie halts, where everything stopped its progression. The call was sent out, soundlessly somehow, and the soldiers swarmed back, leaping over the tanks as those armored hulks of destruction pivoted and then turned completely, moving back off toward the west.

There was a deep rumble, almost like some primeval drum roll. Then came the glow. Deep orange, it first shed light from the fissure created by the missile, but soon grew brighter and brighter. The drumroll was reaching its crescendo.

The geysers of molten lava sprayed from the cracks and breaks that found their way branching from that initial fissure. Trees were reduced to ash instantly. Where it fell the lava melted even the toughest steel infrastructure.

And even as they retreated that line of tanks turned their turrets back to the city as if in one last, glorious salute and fired a final volley of mortars. Breaking ground, the cracks spread, in turn causing more lava to spew from the depths. As they disappeared over the horizon, the military force left Wing City reduced to what it had now become: a veritable hell.

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This is why we should destroy the cruppot goverment of Luxembourg, these people arelet a city died, When Rome burned, these city leaders just played around, We shall show them. I demand that Treize Khushrenada step down, for his lack of leadership has shown him to be a generaly incoptient man. We must rise up and shw our voices through the power of our vote. Vote No Confidence With us, Show the world that Treize will not be allowed to slink away from his deeds! In the momory of Wing City!

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Jacon was on a computer, uploading several files to the internet, hoping that they would be seen by the masses

These log files, said the note were taken by the Starship Ascending Fractal. These logs are what happened during the war. These logs have been unedited for your own purposes.
People of Earth, you decide what happen.

War Logs wrote:The city had taken on a desolate silence after the attack. Those that survived had either fled the area altogether or hunkered down in the few remaining shelters to try and ride out the rest of whatever it was that had begun that night. The moon cast a milky light over the rubble. No one stirred. No one dared. When the rumbling began, it was because of this blanket of silence that it was so ominous. It was coming from the west, somewhere across the horizon. As it approached, getting closer and closer, the rocks and slabs of concrete and steel shook from the heavy vibrations. When the first tank rolled into view it carried with it a sense of foreboding. Then came another, and another, like black shadows sweeping down into the city, moving over anything that stood in their way. And still, beneath it all, was that silence.


Troopers March wrote:Their footsteps were hidden beneath the rumble of tanks: soldiers, thousands of them. They marched behind the line of mechanical deathtraps, clad all in black, their shined visors reflecting all of the emptiness around them and not the slightest hint of emotion.


Genevia Violations wrote:Now the soldiers had their work. Surging past the tanks, they broke into a military trot, the night vision of their visors giving them a clear picture of the surroundings. A sign of heat appeared to the left. They would fire. It would fall. Another figure tried to make a dash past a group of soldiers examining a fallen hotel. The screams of a child followed a short volley of gunfire.



Genevia Violations Redux wrote:Through the smoke and the smog they began their march again. It was a slow, deliberate march, and nothing survived where it passed. A father crawled from the wreckage of a nearby building. His hands were held high, and he motioned inside, saying something about children; a wife. The mortar shell silenced him in an instant. The building collapsed entirely behind him.


The User arrives wrote:[Kureha seemed to have stopped within a certain distance from the city, her pointer and middle finger making contact with the ground as she squatted there, staring at the tearing earth. The cries of the dying earth screamed in her head, before she forced silence within herself, channeling thoughts into the earth. Her faced the city, and stared at it, mumbling soft words as time goes on.


Use the Earth wrote:Kureha left her eyes closed now, lowering her second hand to position itself beside her first hand. She waited until the time was right- and things will ripe. Holding in time and space, the feline would suddenly lift her hands, causing the unsurpported lands to cave in, dangerously. Dropping in larger parts of the earth into the lava that was below it, and splashing out the hot liquid into the city.


Earthbending wrote:The noises were all blocked out and she forced concentration upon herself. Slowly the earth gradually began to crack on the surface, from her fingers and spreading out into the distance towards the city. Energies shook the earth as she could feel herself shaking to keep up with her capabilities. The cracking grew further, as if drawing a family tree upon the ground, caving it into the ground that would give ...


Lava flow wrote:The geysers of molten lava sprayed from the cracks and breaks that found their way branching from that initial fissure. Trees were reduced to ash instantly. Where it fell the lava melted even the toughest steel infrastructure.


Retreat wrote:And even as they retreating that line of tanks turned their turrets back to the city as if in one last, glorious salute and fired a last volley of mortars. Breaking ground, the cracks spread, in turn causing more lava to spew from the depths. As they disappeared over the horizon, the military force left Wing City reduced to what it had now become: a veritable hell.


These logs are the absloute truth in the wing city incident, the last attached message said, and people of the Earth you decide who is to blame

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OOC: Note I am placing these ere for the people who do not use the chat client. I may add the restiace side's logs in about 1 Us hour, but I have to go. This is just half of my intended post

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The second half of the files uploaded as well revaling more about the battle....

Rlog 1 wrote:Leon heard the vibrations rumbling beneath him...the sound was deathly. "No...not again..." The second wave on their way, he barely had time for preparation. he shot up, rallying his troops. "PUL BACK! DEFENSIVE POSTIONS!" They moved quickly, going to their respective locations, getting into their few tanks.


R-log2 wrote:::Jacon was flying around the city, his ships' lights on the ninmal preseces, scanning for any signs of the invadin army. his stardhip had cooled down, but its thermal signature was still hot from its last burn::


Rlog-3 wrote:-As soon as the rumbling began to shake his feet he dashed in an alley, pressing his back against the half-standing wall to peer around the corner and down the street at the tanks rolling in.- Tanks? -He said to himself quietly before slipping into a door of an abandoned building, making his way a few floors up so he could spy on the invasion from the safety of his perch-


Rlog-4 wrote:Irifice runs up seeing leon and thousands others in danger sweeping his hand across his eyes sight as the wind picks up and grows loud with roars. he picks up all the soldiers who are on the brink of death and retreats using the wind to speed up the movement as the troops stay floatin gin the air behind him moving just as fast as him.


Rlog5 wrote:::flying away quickly from the AA missiles and the artelry, he doped some of his mines on the army, droping a smaller .01 kilton conventonal MOAB style explosive on the troops, hoping to take out some of their forces:: "Eat classic weapons Tratiors! Sig Tempus Deium!!"' ::He fired more older ARM-9 missiles at the troopers and flew back, running out of ammution::


Rlog6 wrote:Leon gathered up as the enmy stopped, getting the few men left into an underground shelter. It was a survivor base, desolate from the rumbling and mortors, but it protected them still.



Rlog8 wrote:The mortar shells rocked the foundation of his building as it began to shake him about uneasily. He sheltered himself as best he could until the explosions subsided before unstrapping his rifle from his back, loading a clip into it immediately before creeping to the window to peer out at the eeriely still invading force.-



Rlog9 wrote:Lantis whistles sharply, the only sound permitted henceforth as the 'airforce' struck, surging forth on the back of.. well a large dragon.. that was what appeared to be. A silent turn of his feet directed the huge beast into the melee right towards Leon's position. Grasping the other man softly his head rests by his ear suddenly a torrent of fire swirling in the form of a tornado descending upon Leon.. a fire bomb effectively.

Rlog10 wrote:A man of once prevalent importance stood just within the city boundaries, appearing comfortably leaning against a barely tangible brick wall, both eyes closed and complimented by a relaxed expression, despite recent developments.-

Rlog11 wrote:The scream would be heard, distantly at first, then closer, closer as it approached. It was unearthly; inhuman. The soldiers and tanks remained still as that long, rocket-propelled missile soared over their heads, reflected for a moment against any shined surface among them. It went forward about two miles, then dived into the ground.

Rlog12 wrote:It would be as though a fissure in the earth 2019s curst itself had been torn. There was no sound for a few moments, and then that roar would fill the night as rock scraped against rock and building upon building toppled into the hole. And the missile kept burrowing down; down; down 2026

Rlog13 wrote:Irifice looks toward the enemy and nods to them as he makes the wind pick him up and throw him into the water along with the rest of the refugees and as he does so a huge water dragon swallows him whole and jumps into the vortex. as this happens the wind grows dim and the water flies into the air like a rseading tornado leaving th eonce plentiful lake dry and barren.

Rlog14 wrote:Blackheart stood by his fellow kin, a hand lofting to wrap around the other's shoulders and give him his upmost support. His powers were called upon by the male who let their head rest beside his listening ear, and a daunting smirk soon rose to his lips. "Fools..." His crimson eye blinked in amusement as he watched the people scatter in their wake, ".. all of them."

Rlog15 wrote:A mile beneath the city 2019s surface, that missile finally exploded. The resulting explosion mushroomed up, surging through the hole it had created to bring forth a pillar of fire into the sky. The area was lit as if by daylight for a few moments. Then it was cold and dark again, the mushroom cloud spreading down and over the landscape. And that awful silence.

Rlog16 Alucroas wrote:Flapping it's wings with an with an intensity even greater than before it's body weight shifted down to the lower section, allowing it's tail to dangle down for Blackheart to grab onto and climb onto it's back once more. It's mouth still held the electrical current ready to be dispersed out into the open once more, however it'd be a much better idea for the monster to make a circle around the building and make for an attack within Leon's surroundings. ...


Rlog17 wrote:Jacon has Sarah fly around again, while Jacon ties hiself to a centeral colom, peparing to do a manaver to get closer to Leon. The Ship manges to fly next to leon, hovering for a second, wile Jacon jumps out, grabing on to leon as he pulls on the rope, the AI taking off from the loaction of the deaddrop::

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A rather large gundam of black and red metal would drop from the sky, looking down upon the planet. It looked about it, not sure what to think of the destruction. The gundams eye's would begin to glow red, as it scanned the area for heat signatures. A loud voice would be heard from the Gundam as follows.

"Peace shall not come without war. You people, people of Wing City and fighters of W.I.N.G.E.D. have taken a great blow to your loved life and family. Well, I Gundam Gears, leader of the Dark Zero Empire say Give your enemies an even bigger blow. They take out two million of your citizens, you take out four million of theirs. Do not give up, even if you have only one man left. Fight back and show them what happens when you mess with the peace."

Inside the gundam, Gears would begin to write a letter, using a small black pen and writing on a rather old, sandy looking paper. He would begin to write upon this letter as follows.

"Dear Leon Gray,
I have come to your aid in your time of war. I have built you ten Tauros Mobile suits and have also made you eight tanks, 2.7 million rifles and also, I have ordered new uniforms for your soldiers. This may not be enough, but I am working hard on this. The peace shall be restored. All these weapons are at 97 degrees north, northeast. Please, when you get there, let me know also, I have a special gift for you in my hanger. I think you should rather like it.

In times of war, In the name of Dark Zero Empire
SMS-EVA-0666 / Gundam Gears
Thank you."

When this letter was complete, Gears opened up his gundams visor, knowing it was risky to do this, He closed the letter and through it into the winds. If the Gods were with him, this letter would reach the feet of Leon. Gears would then close his visor to his gundam and kick back in his SMS-EVA-0666 and wait for a reply.

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((Lol, I appreciate the interest, though yes, this wasn't intended as an actual RP, but more of an explanation as to why Rain went from twisted and evil to good-like again. Though I'd like to commend you on picking up the soul reaver bit.

Currently, Rain is residing in the lake, one of the last people left around Wing City.))

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The night air was cold against her skin as she flew in the clouds,not that it matered, when you are created for evil you get use to the cold along with other things.
Angel was glancing at the world below when a huge dint caught her attention...
She hovered slightly then dived down to the spot.
Landing sharply caused her defenses to counteract the force of her landing, surrounding her in a whispy black smoke.
Walking slowly from within the smoke she allowed the moonlight to sketch her figure.
She examined the destruction before her and gave a twisted grin.
She took a step forward peering into the core of the crator and darted her blood red eyes on the figure befor her. She listened carefuly as he spoke his first words to her in his wraspy voice.

Her reply was simpe as she spread her dark wings for full effect
" I Can Offer More Than You Can Imagine"

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#, as written by Nils
In the darker days of man the stars dominated the endless nights and held sway his thoughts of heaven, gods, and fate. Scholars, kings, and prophets used these celestial bodies to divine destiny, shape human history, and understand man's place in the universe. In time, as spangled sprawls of urban lights slowly spilled across the once dark land, the earth grew to mirror the night skies, even challenging them--the stars dimmed and with it the faith man put in them.

But now that the metropolis lights blotted out the stars, where did man put his faith? What guided him now that the stars were gone, reduced to mere objects upon which a child makes a wish? With the glass and steel and neon canyons, man created his own blinders to what omens the stars foretold. Enlightened by technology at his fingertips, man had driven himself into more darkness and uncertainty. While his predessors relied upon pin points of light in the sky, man wandered through his glittering metropolitan cage faithless and without a destiny.

As if rebelling against the modernity, the blinding distractions and flashy empty signs, a single dark cross jutted into the cold night air. Nestled at the base of a thicket of skyscrapers, the church spires solemnly stood as a remnant of another time.

They were on the roof, the two of them, watching the skies. A few curls of smoke rose invisibly in the dim light as the coals died, the red embers arranged in a pentagram's five points. The city traffic was muffled here, and in the silence wafted inaudible mutterings, almost religious, almost fanatical, almost prophetic. While one of them seemed to be in a trance, the other scribbled madly into a tome.

There was a pause as the last of the embers was extinguished, casting them in total darkness, save for the watery city lights that seeped into their rooftop enclave. The hood of the cloak dropped to reveal a shock of white hair as he leaned forward to whisper something into the other's ear. The pen stopped scribbling and he, the younger one, listened.

The old man slumped onto the ground as if he had exerted all of his energy into the archaic ritual. His mouth worked silently and from his throat rasped, "Ein jeder Engel ist schrecklich."

The old man's papery eyelids fluttered for the last time, into the cold night air escaped his last breath, and across his glazed eyes gleamed the blazing white streak of a falling star.

Putting a hand over the old man's eyes and saying a prayer, so he was left to ponder the omen. Every angel is frightening.

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OOC: god that was good :)

Faith! Faith!
It was always thought that humans had put their trust in such trivial elements too easily. She always pondered how such a scattered race could draw strength and group over somthing inscribed so long ago.
She was there that night, when those men exchanged such forbiden thoughts. every Angel is Frightening
The Stars were once souls, souls of gods who's time had come to pass.
True! they were immortal but their hearts eventually died, leaving a cold shell behind for the fools who would still worship them.
Ultimately though, the god's retreated from the guaidan spectors stance they held within this world; having precieved the future of it's inhabitants, learning that they had uncontrolably sealed a fate of a kind in which they created and no longer had control off.
With them gone their graceful underlings were left to roam; drawing in the powers the stars had, giving them wings and magic of their own. Some remained true to their masters continuing to protect the creation they all so willingly left. Others, however, chose to torment such beings inforcing sins and pain and suffering. It was ironc that such creatures were named Angels.
In the end, without warning, these Angels started to fade. It wasn't long untill the skies were once again silent.
So here she stood. The last of that kind. All religious and supernatural belief had kept her alive unaware of the hate she had for such consepts.
But what was she to do? how on earth could she claim what was no longer there?

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#, as written by Nils
OOC: Sorry for responding so late. I had a graduation to attend u_u. I hope I can keep up with you!

A deep beat of dark wings fluttered through his mind and echoed in the hollow of his chest. It was a sound that could not possibly have been picked up by mortal senses, yet mortal he was. For a moment he tore his eyes away from the peaceful face of the old man to scan the skies for, perhaps, a black streak momentarily blotting out the stars. He had only heard stories of his calling, these angels or demons. His kind before him had done the same, seeking them, hunting them. What he sought was so elusive, it almost became a myth even for himself--almost. But at last came the time, a time marked by the death of the old man, to write the ending to this myth and put it and them and all of them to rest. In order to accomplish this, his kind had been imbued with a knowledge and a gift, a gift that had been passed unto him.

Though the gift had been passed through generations and generations, its use was not entirely lost in his modern-age era. A small empty bowl rested in his palm; flashes of light swirled within as he concentrated on the Starbucks three blocks down the street. He reopened his eyes to find a black liquid in the once-empty bowl. Steam rose from his coffee--black, just the way he liked it. It was past midnight and he had work to do; he had no time to tend to a heavy heart and reminisce. Before sunrise, he had carried his grandfather to the crypts that tunneled beneath the church. He buried him among the bones of his ancestors, dating back centuries, some whose bones long dissolved into dust.

Though they resided in a church, they hardly held the same faith as the Christians that owned it. They were a nameless, esoteric organization, based not on blind faith, not atheists, not worshipers, but mediums. But to those who found it necessary to call them something, they were simply called the Gatekeepers.

He finished his cup of coffee and readied himself. He pulled up the loose sleeves of his robe, revealing the tattoos that patterned his hands and fingers and all the way to the sharp angles of his elbows. He held his arms before his eyes and brought them together precisely, the tattoos seamlessly forming two halves of a complicated design or hieroglyph or rune.

His hands clenched as if grabbing onto the handles to an invisible door. His toes dug into the ground and his legs braced him. The hems of his robes rippled in a whirl of wind that came from no direction. Slowly, quaking, he brought his rigid arms apart as if spreading two large invisible bodies, and in between them escaped a few rays of light, as if the dark night had been merely a curtain of torn black silk letting in the morning sun. It briefly illuminating his young but craggy face, lined with concentration, his teeth clenched with effort.

With a bark of pain, his arms flew apart in a burst of energy, threatening to tear themselves out of their very sockets. At last, a column of watery light rippled before him. His chest heaved as he slowly lowered his arms to his sides.

Good thing it was decaf, he thought. These portal-jumps always made him feel slightly queasy.

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OOC: oh well done if it was your graduation. dnt wory about the wait i&#39;ve a lot of free time for the next week (as sad as that sounds) you take your time it&#39;ll be a while befor i reply next time :)

It wasn’t too long ago when it all began… the start of creation. God had birthed the human race and instructed his underlings to look after them…
At the Top stood Mehattron the highest Arc Angel and with Regina Angelium, the Angel queen; held the throne of God. Together they dictated all others and ensured the balance of Heaven and Hell remained.

Unfortunately, hells demons rebelled trying to overturn earth and spilling their never-ending evils onto heavens gates. Many fought against them. Abdiel, the one who was true to god along with Adramelechk, Angel of Fire; struck first banishing thousands back to the fire pits of the river Styx.
However, Appolain the Angel of destruction struck down Adramelechk spilling first blood. The war was intense casting vast sparks of fire across the skies and many were lost.
It looked doubtful as the most trusted Xaphan converted into hell, forced another army onto the sacred gates. Lead by Douma, Angel of silence, they killed many. It seemed mortals were loosing more and more ‘good’ saviours, when Cassiel, Prince of the fifth heaven stood; sacrificing himself and forever banishing all demons and hellish creatures back where they belonged.
Then, the heaven wept, as hundreds of Angels cradled their loved ones. Cassiel was found in the Arms of Ambriel (Angel). As she wept over her lovers’ death she vowed that some day she would revive him so they could be together once more.

So here she was, two thousand years into the future, aided with the gift of communication to the human race she watched as a human summoned the power to enter a hidden and holey cavern. She knew all to well of these gate keepers, especially this particular one. She was there as Nakir visited his father’s tomb. She watched as his blue eyes guided the mortal’s soul to the promised land of the divine.
An old legend had awoken and Angel knew this human was key to the survival and death of her kind. Swooping over him she watched patiently waiting to make her move.

However she was not the only one, Charoum and Ananchel were lurking in the shadows hoping to attract the same mortals’ attention.
“Are you sure he’s the one,” Spoke Charoum “I mean for a human he’s impressive but only because of the powers she gave him.”
“I’m not convinced but the scripture has predicted him. I’m telling you he sure knows how to pick them” replied Ananchel
“Do you think she knows?”
Ananchel looked towards the sky
“I’m sure of it. No matter, she is of no threat to us. Once we have restored him no one will be”
Laughing they vanished into the night

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#, as written by Nils
The Mayans had their temples, the Egyptians their pyramids, the Nazca, their mysterious lines. Machu Pichu, Angkor Wat, Tower of Babel, the Moai... Their purposes were once known, but over the centuries their purposes eroded along with their very structures. Many theories had come to be to explain the unexplainable. But what could induce the civilizations of long past to stretch their resources, to span their building plans over decades or centuries, to war over these structures? It could be nothing else but the human wish to communicate with the gods, heaven, a higher power...

The decaf did not help. He was on his knees, trying not to wretch. His fingers were splayed before him in a lush patch of grass, such a change from the harsh city concrete that was under his feet a moment ago, and he could feel the dew seeping through the knees of his jeans. He looked over his shoulder at the column of light, the portal, still wavering in the dim morning light, still open. The prospect of exerting the energy to close it bothered him--all he wanted to do now was to take a nap. Still, he had to do it--undoubtedly he was creating a spectacle with a disembodied rectangular swath of light hanging in the air to any unfortunate bystander.

He got up, gingerly, then doubled over onto his knees again. He vomited. After wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his robes, he made a note to bring a box of Altoids with him next time. For a moment, he considered the portal. After all, he could simply hop back through or materialize a box of mints into his palm--that is, if he knew where the nearest 7-Eleven was.

And looking around, he knew he was definitely, for sure, nowhere near one. The light of the portal cast his surroundings in eerie pale blue shadows. He could make out the iconic stones propped on top of each other like gateways that would have completely encircled him had it not been for the centuries of erosion. His grandfather had been here, his grandfather's father had been here, his entire lineage had been here once. Yet he shrugged irreverently--even Japanese tourists have been here--it was Stone Henge, after all. If there wasn't a 7-Eleven, no doubt there would be a gift shop selling mints in the shape of Stone Henge's Heelstone. Now, if only he had an Euro to spare. Or not...

He suddenly felt the same sensation he had on the rooftop--the deep beat of dark wings fluttering through his mind and echoing in the hollow of his chest. It was the sensation that could not possibly have been picked up by mortal senses, yet mortal he was. His eyes flickered to the skies, to his left, his right, he spun around, suddenly on guard. The words, Every angel is frightening flitted through his mind.

He backed away from the shadows, closer to the portal. It was unsafe. His ancestors had guarded these sacred grounds to communicate with the divine. And so he had also come here to seek their otherworldly words.

"Reveal yourself," he said and waited.

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((OOC: EDIT: My apologies, I thought this was the Shotgun RP's newest project. However, it is still highly advisable to message a topic author if you post in it after an extraordinary period of inactivity.))

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OOC: i will do next time once agian sorry

She stood in silence hoping the human was acting on a whim, wishing he would lul himself into a false state of security and continue.
Her fears were not settled when he refused to move.
Damm he's good
Taking a deep breath she silently glided down to his level, an emotionless expression casted over her face as she spoke,
"You know you mortals aren't as gracious as he planned out" reffering to when she witnessed an entire stomach content revisiting it's owner
"And not as smart for that matter, making a portal jump on a full stomach. I knew your race wasn't strong enough to withstand the power she gave you. My only reconciliation is that she is no longer alive to witness this behaviour"
She knew it wasn't a great start to insult this being but felt she had no choice. Slowly she was forced to watch as humans turned their backs on concepts such as Gods and Angels and turn hate inwards to themselves; breaking out in mass murder and war; casting aside any respect for those who watched over them. Why was it that this race seemed hell bent on wiping each other out? However, she only felt this way as she knew what it was like to loose her kind. Being one of the remaining few was a lonely and pittyful fate.
At this point she noticed he was still staring at her
"Well, if you're going to call me down you might as wel say somthing. Speak!"

Charoum stood bewildered at what had just happened
"What! She's there, how can she just reveal herself like that?"
"never mind" chuckeled Ananchel "She might have made the first moove but she's no match for the Master even if she is the princess. She will die in vain like the rest of them did"
On that they both vanished into the darkness leaving a single silver feather floating in he mist.

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#, as written by Nils
He remained cautious of her. He was still aware of their ruthless powers, the ones that had brought plagues to humanity, wiped them out. To them, humans were nothing but pawns for their interplanar games. Those plagues, famines, and natural disasters couldn't have been human-made--it had to be providence. And providence was she.

Yet, her voice was the saddest, most lonely sound he had ever heard. It was more ethereal than cirrus clouds at dawn, more lonely than the wind whistling through the peaks that lead to Machu Pichu. It evoked wide plains of grass, empty expanses of shifting sands, the endless sea, hiding something--wreckages, abandonment, death--that lay buried beneath. Her voice was more still and isolated than an empty apartment in the middle of a bustling city, where one contemplated suicide, hollow as a sepulchre. He could not think of anything else that could have described the sadness he heard in her voice. Neither could he think of anything that sounded more bitter. Hardly the emotionless killing winds that brought the plagues of Egypt, killed populations by lifting their tiny finger.

"Speak," she commanded, but he could not. He was still mulling on the quality of her voice, still reeling slightly that he was in the presence of a being that could smite him with a sweep of her wing. That is, she could smite him had he not possessed powers that could possibly quell her wrath. She was at his level, only an armslength away. So close to such divinity, any other mortal would have fell to his knees in reverence.

Instead, he wiped his mouth of any remaining vomit that may have been clinging to the stubble that shadowed his chin, but he was actually hiding a smile. It was a smile that, in turn, hid his apprehension.

"You offend me," he scoffed, his dark eyes glimmering playfully. "But I am willing to be civil with you, even though it might be useless. Hell, is your kind even capable of being civil with us mere mortals?"

He continued, "That said, I am not afraid of you." At those words, he turned his back on the angel and with a burst of energy he closed the portal that was still open. He felt depleted; his robes clung to his skin with sweat. Yet he remained vigilant, his eyes sweeping his surroundings, noting that they were exactly at the center of the Stone Henge rock formations. This was where his ancestors conversed with the higher powers, he realized. This was where miracles and disasters happened. He felt he was going to retch again, wondering if he had the energy to execute what was expected of him. He said a silent prayer to his ancestors to forgive him if he failed.

He turned back to her, his face pale and shimmering with cold sweat, but he grinned broadly. With a sweep of his hand, he indicated the empty air where the portal had closed, harmless. "A peace offering. I am at your mercy."

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I'm not afraid of you...

The words echoed in her mind, bouncing off each emotional wall she had set up in her mind. Fear? was that what she wanted from this man? did she want to be feared?
Then she looked at this man... she saw such conflict in his eyes.... feeling the urge to break down in ore being consumed by th upmost hatred. It was as if his every being was infected with a monster seaching and destroying all forms of pitty and kindness he could ever show towards her leaving only a darkened gap filled with anger seeking for revenge...

What harm could i have ever done to you?... Then she remembered...
"Every Angel is Frightening. Is that what you have labeled me with human? "

Taking a deep sigh she turned her back pacing a more comfortable gap between the two. If she was to get any form of help from these people she would have to approach this causiously. A part of her wanted to say Blame me, it's al me but what good would that do? She could not be held responsible for Douma and Xaphan's doing.. she owed her kind that much. Now because of them, Angels were hated amongst the human race and there was little she could do about it..
Turning to face the man she sat on a ledge made from rock and grass.
"You're wrong... and yes i will be civil so long as you stop looking at me like i'm satin himself... your hatred has no path towards me"

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#, as written by Nils
He wondered why they took the humanoid form. He had never actually seen one. His eyes narrowed at her, an utter stranger to say the least, but he was filled with a deep knowing ingrained within him from the teachings of his fold. He wondered if it was so it was to illicit pity from him. But he could not waver. Not now.

She spoke as if she were innocent, but she was guilty, like all of them. It was they who took away the concept of "free-will." As long as these so-called angels existed, there could be no such thing. For all her speech, he knew he was nothing but a pawn to her. An idle distraction from God-knows cosmic game. Perhaps she was here only to beguile him into stepping into her trap, to play a game for her, a pawn to be sacrificed. But it was time to end it, even if they had to be destroyed one by one, just as his ancestors had realized.

"If you are not Satan, who are you then?" He growled through gritted teeth. He had to keep the conversation going. There was no way he could do it--not against the aura of power he felt from her. It was like being too close to a fire or holding one's hand above a vat of steaming water. A bead of sweat rolled down his nose. It felt like aeons between each word as he tried as he might to stall time.

He remembered what his grandfather had told him, about the secret of the stones positioned just so at Stone Henge. A circle, a gathering, a gateway, a trap, a portal in itself.

At last the drop of sweat hit the ground.

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Satan!!

The very word cut through her like a thosand daggers.. She felt a rage bubble inside of her. What did this human know.. After all her kind had sacrificed... Her eyes turned blood red and fists clenched. She yelled at him, voiced layered with both harmony and a feirce growl. Such juxta-posed tones she had only used once before...

"Satan! how dare you you pathetic insect! you speak asthough you are the one that suffered. If it wasn't for me you race would have been exterminated centuries ago; and if it wasn't for the death of those i loved, you would be slaves to that creature you so freely insult me with!!!"

Feeling the earth tremble she reaized her rage was seeping into her powers and decided to stop before she tore the entire place apart. As a few rocks fell her eyes returned back to their light blue and she took a deep breath. Next time she spoke she did in a calm manner with soft tones:

"What is it you think you know? why do you hate us so much?"

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#, as written by Nils
In the corner of his eye he watched as the last rock drop from the sudden surge of power that emanated from her. But he did not flinch; his eyes remained fixed on the angel. It was like staring at the sun, he thought. Or a bomb, waiting for it to go off. He allowed himself a sigh of relief, which turned out to be a short snort of air through his nostrils, because his body was kept so taut, ready to spring; he could not afford to relax now.

He did not answer her question, "Why do you hate us so much?" He could not. This hate was nothing he could put into words; it was centuries of resentment, the type of resentment a much abused slave would feel for his master. Her speech should have stirred his heart, though. But this hate was too far gone; it had been so ingrained in him that it was no so much as hate, but duty.

He took a step forward. The air and ground rippled with his footfall. The ground rolled and swelled from the center of his step toward the outer edges of the site, the stone formations buckling ever so slightly.

Then he closed his eyes, and a look of immense peace came over his face. For all his effort jumping through portals, this was a feat beyond his strength; all he needed to do was give in to the power he had to keep in check all this time. Although it was mostly a mental effort, it was also manifest physically in his muscles, which were sinewy and taut. But now they were relaxed; his arms remained loose at his sides, as if he had dropped his guard. No, he was far from it.

Around him the stone formations rose into the air, inches above the ground. He exhaled, his eyes snapping open, fiery white. Gradually he was effused with a light blue glow, a glow that did not come from him, but from the stone formations themselves.

Each stone formation was made of two pillars of rock with a slab that lay across the top. It was simple to imagine that they were made to look like gateways. And indeed, as rectangles of light opened under each rock formations, the stone formations of Stonehenge were portals themselves.

He lifted his arms to his sides and the portals of light began to swirl around him until it trapped both him and the angel in the center in a maelstrom of ethereal blue glow.

"I will show you."

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Watching the room illuminate she could not help but tense her entire being... the spirit energy she felt from this man forced her under great pressure... like she had dived too far down in the ocean and it's strong force had begun to crush her...

A bead of sweat trickled down her face... she wasn't sure what this human was planning on doing so prepared for the worst, summoning all her power to just underneath the bare surface of her skin... with one realise she would omit enough energy from every pour to destroy this entire setting along with the human himself....


Watching the stones move she had no choice but to remain still and unconsciously gasp in ore... she had heard of such powers before but never witnessed it for herself.
Slowly ...like a predator stalking its pray ...it began to dawn on her:

There was more to this human then she could ever imagine...

A solitary whisper escaped from her lips "a...a.... portal"

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#, as written by Nils
His ears roared with the rush of wind. His hair whipped across his face and he could hear his robes tear at the hem.

The sky opened up above them and around them. Suddenly there was silence, as if he had dived into a pool of water. It was as if the air had been sucked through the portals framed by each of the Stongehenge doorlike structures. Each one tunneled into a vast glowing blue eternity.

He had to do this quickly. She could lash out at him and kill him in an instant if she chose. He wondered why she had not done so. It unnerved him. Was she merely watching him with amusement before she killed him like a cat would with a mouse?

It was what Stonehenge was all along leading up to this point. They had forseen this, predicted this, and this its purpose had finally arrived. It had been etched out in time. This was the true purpose of the stone structure. It crossed three leylines, concentrating unnamed energies at a single location, seething to be released. Some said that it communicated with the afterlife, but no, his ancestors the Druids had built this to trap these beings, turn them human and destroy them.

To make them mortal.

In the stillness, he roared an incantation. His voice was drowned out by a new surge of wind as shadowy tendrils exploded from the portals. One of them shot through his chest like a bullet. He felt his heart stop. His breath seemed to freeze in his lungs. His eyes widened in their sockets at the realization of what forces he was manipulating--a double-edged sword.

He finished the incantation, stretching both palms in the angel's direction, and heeding him, they encircled her.

In the rush of wind he could not hear if they caused her pain. He did not know if they even felt pain. But he knew, that after this was over, not only would she certainly feel pain, but she could certainly be killed.

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At first the situation seemed to not effect her.
She passively allowed the events to unfold standing blind to the purpose he had for her.
It was not untill she saw the stone towers did she realise that her life was in danger....
As his powers reached out gathering around her she knew she had to move fast in order to escape.

Certain Angels posess such power that they can move around the human world completely oblivous to the human eye... they seem indistinguishable but in actual fact they move too fast to be in the visable spectrum.

In the blink of an eye she pounced escaping the powerful grasp of the man... forcing her power to the edge of the fingers she parted the energy freezing his attack. Within an instant she moved behind him drawing her sword, she gently placed it across his neck as a warning.

"I would suggets you stop" her voice rasping and harse
"I may have been blind to your intententions before but now i see through whatever disgiuse you choose to cover them with. Trust me generations of reasearch is nothing when compared to meeting us in real life... if you wish to be spared i will allow you to back off and walk away"

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#, as written by Nils
OOC: Sorry for the late reply! I was on a semi-vacation. Anyway! On with the writing! Oh yeah, am I allowed to play Charoum and Ananchel?

The sudden silence rang in his ears. The stone formations hovered above the ground. The very streaks of wind froze in the air. Slowly, the ethereal blue within each portal churned like viscous liquid. They sang a deep low chorus, like putting one's ear to an empty sea shell. The tendrils of light that had stopped his heartbeat and frozen his breath wavered gently around him. Somehow she had frozen his attack.

He didn't have the chance to comprehend it before he felt the edge of the angel's cold blade bite into the flesh of his neck. He writhed, tearing himself away. Red droplets floated before him. It was his blood.

Now that the tables had turned and now that his life lay in her hands, he wished he could slacken his hold on the stone formations about him. He wished he could close those portals. He wished he could call off the tendrils of light meant to kill her.

He grimaced. Tremors shuddered through his hands and to his fingertips. His chest heaved.

"I CAN'T," he roared. "I can't stop this!"

He turned to face her. A grin split his face. He was prepared to die. Things had already been set in motion.

A sound like creaking ice echoed in that still chamber of ethereal blue light. Maybe it was the stones creaking back into orbit. Maybe it was the actual sound of the frozen air shattering off the angel's power like ice. Or maybe it was his bones, creaking under the pressure of a power that he could hardly control.

He was going to obliterate her even if it meant killing himself in the process.

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OOC: Sure you can play them I’m hardly doing anything so go ahead.

Seeing the insane grin on his face she slowly turned. The calm blue surface began to crack appearing as though a layer of ice was buckling above it.
Her attempt to stop it was failing.
It broke with an almighty roar propelling blasts of ice shards towards her. She covered her face and was drawn to her knees as what followed could only be described as a vacuum. Like a black hole lurking in space, it began to suck in anything in its path.

She drove her sword into the ground as the wind wisped past her ears howling... the force began to tug at her wings causing her feathers to be viciously pulled out along with some flesh. Both the feathers, flesh and blood from her winds disappeared into the blue depths of the portal.
The wind was not loud enough to mask her screams of pain as she clung to her sword becoming weak....

She stuttered, unable to master enough strength to be clear

"S..stop t..this now!"