Vexumin
Whiskered Wizard
"The first of our champions."
What brings people together is a curious thought. At times it is due to common interest, other times it is in the pursuit of the same goal. However, for a lot of survivors, it would simply be a matter of survival. Nonetheless, these survivors would unknowingly be named champions of man as they gathered together. All pure of blood. These were beings to keep eyes upon or wipe off the face of the earth for good. This is a response that they might find some have taken against them without their knowledge of it.
Our story begins with two. One that goes by the name of Adam and another that goes by the name of Lorne. The group of survivors simply begins this way, it seems. Little interaction, just two that were once on their own coming together. Not even a greeting or an exchange of names, simply finding each other and stepping along a new path side by side. Perhaps it is the desperation for numbers that initiated this phenomena. Even so, our group of champions begins at two. It doesn't take too long though for two to become three. Though it took effort for this third to travel with the others.
Clawing through the dirt, Adam and Lorne eventually find a hovel where a young Khaliuna had huddled themselves into a corner. Their suffering had been great, losing their own people not too long before they were once again found. Though a hand is offered to her, Una wondered if she should travel beside these people. Would they meet a similar fate as those she wandered with before or should she continue to toil in the ground and await her demise. No. Lying in wait for death would not be how she spent her final moments. She would find her fate on the road, be it cruel or hopeful. Thus two became three.
It would be several more days of walking beyond this point. Few words were spoken between the three. It was difficult not to fall into silence and fear creating a connection. After all, who knows when the person next to you will become a feast for a wandering creature. To some, the risk of being hurt by the loss of someone you grew close to is simply too great. Though it seemed harmless, to fall into this state of mind, despair had a scent to demons. A very alluring scent at that. A howl in the distance and the cracking of branches, a beast was on the trail of the three.
It was fast! Too fast for them to evade. Though they could not see it, it was there, flying between the trees of the wilds. Claws tearing into wood as it stalked its new prey. It seemed that the only way to stand a chance whatsoever was to find a place to hide and wait to attempt to defend themselves. They run and run before finding themselves cornered. It is then that they see the beast that stalks them.
The two hit the ground with a crashing thud. The hell beast reaches a twitching hand towards the survivors before it goes limp, leaving the armored man to stand above his foe. A helmeted head turns towards the three, just staring for a moment before a hearty laugh sounds through the holes of his visor. He steps from the slain creature, wiping tainted blood from his weapon before he sheathes it back beneath his cloak. "We have found others! Friends, well met!" Before he makes it to the survivors, another smaller figure falls from the ledge overhead. A child with black hair. The large man catches the girl, gently setting her upon the ground before tapping the helmet she wore on her head, lowering it a bit over her face.
They both look to the three survivors, still trying to get over the adrenalin rush they had experienced after having been hunted. The man raises his hands, removing his helmet to reveal a dirtied face framed with orangish-brown hair and a goatee. He offers a smile. "Come, friends. We have shelter nearby. It is not much, but what is ours is yours." This is all the man says before he starts moving. Clearly he knows as well as anyone that staying in the open for too long was bound to see another demon, as the one lying dead on the ground, on its way to hunt. This was especially the case now that the scent of blood was in the air. The young girl had stood in place for a moment before following the man close behind.
Should they trust to follow this stranger after having just slain a creature? Although he did it to protect, who knows what he is capable of. Either way, he offered a place to relax, what was his was now theirs after all. Perhaps he had food and water wherever he had settled himself for the time being. Couldn't hurt to take advantage of that, right? Following the man to his camp, it is a small area walled off by the ruined stone of old buildings. There is a fire still alight at its center, dripping meat cooking over it, meaning that he must have rushed away from it to help after hearing the roars of the beast earlier.
The camp has small child's books and a few books with potentially familiar titles scattered about here and there. The girl walks about the camp, picking these up and clearing spaces to sit for the others while the man takes a seat himself. He gestures to the different spots about the fire. "Please, take a seat. I'm sure you are exhausted after all that. I have food cooking. Should be enough for us all, if you have not had a meal in some time." The man takes a knife from a boot, slicing a small bit of meat from the whole and taking a bite. "Beast flesh! Not of the hellish variety, I assure you." The child steps over and takes the other half, chewing it down. "I am Delvin, but you can call me Dell if you'd like," the man says before gesturing to the girl. "This is my daughter, Miranda."
Genii
HUVASU
InsaneAsylum
"Irene Harris, Slayer of the Infernal. How interesting."
Though death is an unyielding force in all realms, there are few with the demons luck to evade its grasp, avoiding the path to the Angel of Deaths residence. Irene is one such being. A human no less. This is a fate that no realm could have seen coming, not even the angels of heaven that she had fought alongside. Many angels expected her to perish far sooner than she had. They did not expect a life of glory beside them, and for that she had their respect. However, death comes for all during this war. So when she was taken before the Angel of Return, it was to the surprise of all.
Ordered by the Angel of Redemption, Azrael, the angel Jophiel was ordered to oversee this resurrection. The return of the first human spirit to their form. Irene's corpse was tended to. Mended extensively and wounds sealed from the heat of the Angel of Returns light. All had been going as it should, but this was the first human to undergo the process. As the spirit fused once again with flesh, the mind became muddled and forgetful. Memories of the past locked deep away. How were the angels to correct this mistake? They simply could not. Nor could they keep her as she recovers.
The very angel that took Irene before the Angel of Return, to be brought back from death, was the same to place her upon the Alter of the Proven. A site of ritual for those brought back. Jophiel would not remain though. When Irene awoke, it was alone, with no memories to comfort her. While left by the angels, knowing that she must recover on her own accord and without the aid of the holy citadels of heaven, she was left with her old armor and her blade, each crafted with the faith that was had of her by those she stood beside. After she arms herself, she takes off into the world to gather herself and rediscover who exactly she is.
Since her awakening on the alter, time has had Irene wandering without purpose, but still with the ambition to hunt those of hell. She would track beast after beast, driven by the urge to slay the wicked. This soon leads her before a monster that would prove a challenge. She had slain many demons during the war, each with their own sense of selves and their own lusts for chaos. However, word of Irene would spread among their forces. It was difficult not to pay mind to a human that has managed to stand their own against the legions of hell.
As she steps from the brush and into a clearing, she is met with the sight of a feasting demon. Its flesh covered in markings and its visage hidden in the shadows of tattered cloths covering its face aside from the massive teeth of its lower jaw. It took in the air around it through its nose before standing and turning to face Irene. A low growl emanates from the creature before it speaks. "You... I know you. Come to slay on behalf of the angels? Come to enact the will of those who hold the leash?" it says, taunting her and readying itself for a fight. The soft flesh of its neck bulges out and glows a fiery red.
meepster
"A hermit, sheltered and alone. Come out into the light, Ike Mikasa."
Sheltered once again and for who knows how long. Ike has managed to find himself another untouched trove of food and supplies. A man whose luck is akin to the trickiest of hells demons. Life has not been a breeze for Ike, but those who are desperate for a change shall carve out a path for themselves on their own. However, being alone for so long does very little good for the mind. Despite having passed many suitable individuals during his travels, they are all inhuman. Otherworldly. They are freaks of nature that he believes must have been born from his twisted imagination. So he passes them, ignoring their promises of assistance. He had shelter to find, and these "figments of his imagination" would not stop him.
At times these creatures, that he believes to have made up, are perhaps a bit too real. A bit too terrifying to simply walk past. The chittering and cackling of their tones. Their sizes. The blood mad look in their eyes. It is better to shelter away from these horrible hallucinations. So this leads Ike to different, almost untouched, shelters. This more recent shelter was a simple enough store with plenty to use for him to survive. Months turn to years, but he still had plenty left to eat. The store took a little work to fortify from the elements and the beasts that scrounge around in the night, but he is able to manage. Constructing a place for him to exist without the need to overly exert himself.
There would be nights where the horrors of the world would tap at the walls of his home, scratch at the boarded down doors to find a way in. No creature kept up with their efforts for long. Thus, in present day, Ike was opening a new box of puzzle books and pens. These were the only items that allowed him to anchor himself to reality. Without the stimuli, he would have long descended into true madness, likely transforming into the beasts that he walks past some days. Those that hide in the shadows.
From outside, the howl of beasts can be heard, but he knows that he doesn't have to worry about such things. He is safe here. Right?
Ashy_OCdesigns
"Joey Okusanya. Your people are in need, but will your duty bring your end?"
It is one of the most difficult tasks, working to supply the settlements found in the twisted skeleton of what used to be the old world metro tunnels. Especially those connected to the world above. B/Exposition is an especially ambitious plan made by survivors in an attempt to create a hyper weaponized and militaristic colony of humans. A system of people that focus their trade heavily upon old world weapons. Guns and ammunition. As the settlement is parked a few hundred miles from the very borders of the tear of hell itself, it is quick to go through bullets at a steady pace throughout each passing year, slaying the more animal-like hell beasts that appear.
To build a home atop a reliance of such supplies dooms one to a finite existence. Thus, eventually, the need of external supplies comes into play. This need caused the development of the B/Exposition Ranger Corps. Ultimately an impromptu specialist platoon meant specifically to serve in the defense and supply of B/Exposition. These poor individuals, after the years spent surviving in the thick of the most brutal war ever seen by mankind, are most likely quite broken or uneasy. Though they are sure of each and every action they take, they do not take the time to question the morals of every decision they must make. Such is the terms of survival. Do what you must, no matter the cost.
Their missions, in the pursuit of supplies, often has them contesting other human settlements. They have certainly made many enemies of what humans remained at the time, but soon enough, it was rare to find any humans at all. Merely gathering up the supplies from mounds of corpses or the nests of creatures that once might have been considered human but are now beasts. However, there is only so much to gather from the surrounding areas. Thus a mission was born in the minds of the ranger corps. A squad, led by Joey Mendez Okusanya, set out to accomplish this mission that was of the utmost importance for the survival of B/Exposition.
The squad had set out, making it as far as the southern area of Nevada, inbound towards old Las Vegas even. The city had been long decimated by the rapid growth of the wilds. The sandy and rocky lands transforming into yet another massive and dangerous forest. Travelling by vehicle, the squad weaves past the ruined towers scattered about the once great city of sin. It all seemed quiet... a bit too quiet perhaps. All too suddenly any sense of safety was ruined when a large chunk of debris from a building fell perfectly in the middle of the path. The vehicle comes to a screeching stop as the squad quickly gets out to look over the area, but the threat was all too clear as they crawl from their hiding places scattered about.
There had been word from travelers and other visitors to B/Exposition about humans that drink the blood of fallen demons to change themselves. Though not often aggressive, the sound of a vehicle likely attracted their ire. These people stood from the shadows, faces pale and near featureless aside from their jagged maws, beady eyes and sharpened ears. "Idiot! You let it loose too early!" one says in a nasally tone. Another turns and snarls. "They stopped didn't they?! Now we take."
There was little time to return to the vehicle. The creatures were on them in seconds. It took almost all they had to fall back into the empty corridors of a nearby structure. As they ran, they fired into the mass of pale flesh charging towards them. Several went down, but it seemed like two more took the place of each fallen number. By the time the creatures had been evaded, it was only Joey left running through the wilds. He was not sure if his comrades were alive, but if they were anything like him surely they managed to get away or fortify themselves in somewhere.
He marched on. The screeches of the creatures were still some ways behind him, as if hunting him down, but he had some distance on them. Now on his own, all he could do was push forward. There was a lot of area ahead of him to travel through without the use of a vehicle. Better to keep moving than to walk back into the enemy.
AKIMBOCROSS
