x_Cooper_x
Bust :(
ooc:{Total disclaimer. I'm just throwing this out there. Jump in if you want. Not a real project more of a passing interest}
There is nothing on hell or earth more terrifying then that the sight of an angel. Stories tell those of baby faced children in the clouds with curly locks of gold, wrapped in sheets, wings barely large enough to keep them in the heavens. The truth couldn't be farther from the truth. When a city was meant to be destroyed, when a civilization was to be erased, or when a flood was to be used to wash the filth from the world; it was the angel who came. God had made both human and angel in the image of him. This is where the similarities stopped how ever. The angel was not the sweet figure the books or tales tell them to be. Human were children of god, they were the beings of love and compassion. Within their bodies the creator gave them a whisper, a secret they would carry till reunited. They were given the soul. With this they are more powerful then any being to walk the earth yes, but without they would be the same as the legion that were the army of heaven. These beings were made of marble, chiseled in beauty, wings of iron and blood or fire. They were more monster then holy. The devils on hell still fear them, or it is possible they remember what they once were. None of these beings were more feared then the general of all of heavens armies. He was the lord or fire and brimstone. He was the flaming sword, the force and wrath. He was one of the princes of the kingdom in the sky. Michael, the slayer of fallen, the one all, be all.
View attachment 403592
When Lucifer came to oppose the throne there was no other that could match up to the beast save Michael. In the books the two fought a thunderous battle that lasted matter of seconds. But inside those few moments eons were passing. Angel against angel, blood and steel. The crash broke the skies and split the earth. This was the fight that threw the evil and vile to earth, it was with his sword that the hero or glory and righteousness sent the morning star down from heaven like a meteor. He was the one to stop the rebellion. But at what cost? If these beings were not human could they feel? Could they know what this meant? Could they will? With the war over and his brother out, something changed the campion of the kingdom. If evil was a virus then like all viruses it spread to the one being that it shouldn't have.
Time is nothing to the immortals. A human life comes and goes like a blink of an eye to them. After the humans took the earth and the demons and evils took hell the creator forbid the angels to touch down to earth in their full forms. The sight of their power to humans could melt the eyes and turn them to stone. So there they stood, statues at the gates. After time human life became nothing but a clip of sorrow and pain. Joy was bleeding out of the world again, this time how ever they were never called to swoop down, not called to just the wicked and evil. This is where the second rebellion began. One by one more and more of the holy fell from grace. The ones who loved humans still, fell only to earth, leaving the ranks and becoming mortal. Those who hated man became demons, exchanging one set of power for another. Then there were those like Michael, stuck in-between. Locked by duty and loyalty. If he had a soul it would have withered away a long time ago.
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The halls were tall and wide. The room was made of crystal, gold and silver. Light bled in from all points making the sight beautiful and brilliant. These quarters were of the Archangel Michael. Angels stood at the door of the room with spears. They wore armor up to their necks. The way they looked it was as if they wore fire. The amount of light shining from them was immense. They sat quietly as their wings spread before them like doors. Simultaneously they lowered them gently, the wings were white and looked to be soft, but the way they sounded upon moving was the sound of steel sharpening. Behind the two another two came in dragging a beaten man in robes. The two were dressed in armor as well, wings pulled tightly being them. The man who laid on the floor had open wounds on his back where wings once were. He made no noise as he sat quietly. That was until he heard foot steps with chains following them. It was his prince. The man began to curl into a ball as he began to cry
"Kailon...." His voice was like the sound of a hundred men speaking at once.
"Why?"
"Would you care if I told you?" The man spoke between his cries. This angered one of the angels as he lifted his spear to kill him.
Michael rose his hand to stop him. He was a strange figure dressed in a hood, his armor was the same as the others but his wings were golden, not white. On his waist a sword in a sheath.
"Try me" He spoke softer then he before
"We were first. We were loved before...It should be us. Luc"
"Enough!!!" The room shook and thunder crashed as he roared. Michael was before the man now, his hand on his sword, under his hood his eyes were flames in the dark. "Do not say his name before me."
The man could only curl more, he cried for a moment more before he pulled his knees up and knelt before Michael. He slowly lifted his head to show his face and eyes. His skin was cracked and grey, eyes were red and mouth bloody. The teeth behind his lips were fangs and ears pointed. This man was no longer beautiful, he was not an angel, he was a demon. He had killed mortal flesh and cursed the earth with his presence. Michael simply stared into eyes he remembered once before.
"You know I'm right. You know it too well, don't...."
With a gust of wind and power Michael walked away. In a moment a flame crossed the room and faded, his hand was resting on his sword. Where the man had just been now only ash. Judgment had restored the wicked evil and fire cleansed him. This was the only mercy he could bestow. Michael now stood on the ledge of a large rim that looked over the kingdom of heaven. Men cried at this, people spent their entire lives hoping a praying to be here, paradise. For Michael and those like him, it was a prize they would never receive. Never enjoy.
"My Leigh." A voice called behind him. "Is this what it seems to be?"
Michael was looking at the view of his garden. His eyes were tired and he felt drained. Age does not effect them, but something was waring on him now.
"Are we at war?"
"Cassiel. We have always been at war. This is no different, earth is the only change in the terrain. He can not fight here so we must fight there. There is a fire bellowing in the darkness. We must blow it out before there is nothing left to save.."
There is nothing on hell or earth more terrifying then that the sight of an angel. Stories tell those of baby faced children in the clouds with curly locks of gold, wrapped in sheets, wings barely large enough to keep them in the heavens. The truth couldn't be farther from the truth. When a city was meant to be destroyed, when a civilization was to be erased, or when a flood was to be used to wash the filth from the world; it was the angel who came. God had made both human and angel in the image of him. This is where the similarities stopped how ever. The angel was not the sweet figure the books or tales tell them to be. Human were children of god, they were the beings of love and compassion. Within their bodies the creator gave them a whisper, a secret they would carry till reunited. They were given the soul. With this they are more powerful then any being to walk the earth yes, but without they would be the same as the legion that were the army of heaven. These beings were made of marble, chiseled in beauty, wings of iron and blood or fire. They were more monster then holy. The devils on hell still fear them, or it is possible they remember what they once were. None of these beings were more feared then the general of all of heavens armies. He was the lord or fire and brimstone. He was the flaming sword, the force and wrath. He was one of the princes of the kingdom in the sky. Michael, the slayer of fallen, the one all, be all.
View attachment 403592
When Lucifer came to oppose the throne there was no other that could match up to the beast save Michael. In the books the two fought a thunderous battle that lasted matter of seconds. But inside those few moments eons were passing. Angel against angel, blood and steel. The crash broke the skies and split the earth. This was the fight that threw the evil and vile to earth, it was with his sword that the hero or glory and righteousness sent the morning star down from heaven like a meteor. He was the one to stop the rebellion. But at what cost? If these beings were not human could they feel? Could they know what this meant? Could they will? With the war over and his brother out, something changed the campion of the kingdom. If evil was a virus then like all viruses it spread to the one being that it shouldn't have.
Time is nothing to the immortals. A human life comes and goes like a blink of an eye to them. After the humans took the earth and the demons and evils took hell the creator forbid the angels to touch down to earth in their full forms. The sight of their power to humans could melt the eyes and turn them to stone. So there they stood, statues at the gates. After time human life became nothing but a clip of sorrow and pain. Joy was bleeding out of the world again, this time how ever they were never called to swoop down, not called to just the wicked and evil. This is where the second rebellion began. One by one more and more of the holy fell from grace. The ones who loved humans still, fell only to earth, leaving the ranks and becoming mortal. Those who hated man became demons, exchanging one set of power for another. Then there were those like Michael, stuck in-between. Locked by duty and loyalty. If he had a soul it would have withered away a long time ago.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The halls were tall and wide. The room was made of crystal, gold and silver. Light bled in from all points making the sight beautiful and brilliant. These quarters were of the Archangel Michael. Angels stood at the door of the room with spears. They wore armor up to their necks. The way they looked it was as if they wore fire. The amount of light shining from them was immense. They sat quietly as their wings spread before them like doors. Simultaneously they lowered them gently, the wings were white and looked to be soft, but the way they sounded upon moving was the sound of steel sharpening. Behind the two another two came in dragging a beaten man in robes. The two were dressed in armor as well, wings pulled tightly being them. The man who laid on the floor had open wounds on his back where wings once were. He made no noise as he sat quietly. That was until he heard foot steps with chains following them. It was his prince. The man began to curl into a ball as he began to cry
"Kailon...." His voice was like the sound of a hundred men speaking at once.
"Why?"
"Would you care if I told you?" The man spoke between his cries. This angered one of the angels as he lifted his spear to kill him.
Michael rose his hand to stop him. He was a strange figure dressed in a hood, his armor was the same as the others but his wings were golden, not white. On his waist a sword in a sheath.
"Try me" He spoke softer then he before
"We were first. We were loved before...It should be us. Luc"
"Enough!!!" The room shook and thunder crashed as he roared. Michael was before the man now, his hand on his sword, under his hood his eyes were flames in the dark. "Do not say his name before me."
The man could only curl more, he cried for a moment more before he pulled his knees up and knelt before Michael. He slowly lifted his head to show his face and eyes. His skin was cracked and grey, eyes were red and mouth bloody. The teeth behind his lips were fangs and ears pointed. This man was no longer beautiful, he was not an angel, he was a demon. He had killed mortal flesh and cursed the earth with his presence. Michael simply stared into eyes he remembered once before.
"You know I'm right. You know it too well, don't...."
With a gust of wind and power Michael walked away. In a moment a flame crossed the room and faded, his hand was resting on his sword. Where the man had just been now only ash. Judgment had restored the wicked evil and fire cleansed him. This was the only mercy he could bestow. Michael now stood on the ledge of a large rim that looked over the kingdom of heaven. Men cried at this, people spent their entire lives hoping a praying to be here, paradise. For Michael and those like him, it was a prize they would never receive. Never enjoy.
"My Leigh." A voice called behind him. "Is this what it seems to be?"
Michael was looking at the view of his garden. His eyes were tired and he felt drained. Age does not effect them, but something was waring on him now.
"Are we at war?"
"Cassiel. We have always been at war. This is no different, earth is the only change in the terrain. He can not fight here so we must fight there. There is a fire bellowing in the darkness. We must blow it out before there is nothing left to save.."
