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| Angellus | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Sunday, 26. February 2012, 00:32 (167 Views) | |
| RozJackal | Sunday, 26. February 2012, 00:32 Post #1 |
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Hi guys, your friendly (albeit unfortunately inactive) Australian here! I've been unwell and stuck at home for quite some time so I decided to write this. The dark night evoked a creature, a creature that once was good, but was forever trapped between two worlds, once which resented him and the other which knew his face but not who he truly was. He sat on a park bench, in a park older than most of the people that hung around there, smoking, drinking and laughing. He wore an old, leather, black overcoat. That very same overcoat hid a muscular body, a pair of blue jeans and a black tight fitting T-shirt. He wore his overcoats hood, concealing his wavy black hair and ancient yet lively eyes. His clothing hid an array of weapons; a Turkish Yataghan sabre. The grip was made from bone and the metal was still as strong and sturdy as it had been five hundred years ago. Hidden in small sheathes in his jeans were two gold gripped Tantō Samurai blades. While he hid his face he could still sense what was around him. He could vaguely feel the evil that stirred, but innocence reigned true amongst most of them. It saddened the man to take them so young, but it was not his choice. He stood up, exposing his lean seven foot physique. He was an imposing man, without having the joy of being quite human. He gently felt the sheath which held his Yataghan and felt for the slight hollow that held two throwing knives. He would throw them and then take the final offender to the next life with his Yataghan. The taking of a young life felt empty compared to the life of one so old. He stood up from his bench and looked over to a group of five people that sat on a red and white woollen rug. It felt so out of place on the grass and tanbark of the park. They were happy; caught in a blissful moment of innocence. He took a final look at their happy, smiling faces. He took out his throwing knives and concealed them in his sleeves. He walked toward them and they looked up at him curiously. He was ashamed to see the deadness in their eyes. Their eyes betrayed their crimes. The one he would personally kill held the highest sin, murder in his eyes. The two that sat beside him, a blue haired girl and an Asian teen with a Mohawk, the blue haired girl held the eyes of a thief that regretted nothing and had no reason to do what she did other than for “fun” but the Asian teen, a weapons dealer. He felt himself being sized up; did he hold any concealed weapons? Yes, more than they could ever imagine. Perhaps it was the eyes that made it easier. He smiled at them, not in the least reassuringly and they tensed. The two knives left his hands faster than the human eye could comprehend, and the two cronies fell backwards, knives protruding from their necks. He had already seen the weapon the Asian carried, a gold plated Beretta 90two handgun. He was disappointed in his choice, an automatic would have at least made his trophy more interesting. “What the fuck?!” The murderous teen stood up, balling his hands into fists. He unsheathed his Yataghan and held it in one hand, the blade touched the picnic blanket. “You sinned and you regret nothing of it. Goodbye, Murder.” He stabbed the teen in the heart and propelled him into a tree, it bent slightly from the force of his shove. The two innocent teens stared in shock at the murder they had just seen, “W-w-what are you?” The taller of the two stammered. “Something that should not have to exist, but does, I am the Angellus.” Angel picked the two knives from the teens bodies and slid them back into the hollow. He pushed the Asian’s body so his back was exposed and he took the gold plated Beretta. One trophy of many he would claim from him. Angellus picked up his wallet and his car keys. He had killed many arms dealers in his time; they all carried their weapons around in their trunks and storage containers. He looked around the park and found a flashy looking Mercedes. He walked over and pressed the open button on the trunk. He smiled as it popped open, exposing a large variety of weapons. Angellus closed the trunk and drove the car back to his hideout through the city. The weapons were trophies; weapons had always been something that had interested him. He had taken his from opponents truly worthy of his respect; an assassin of the highest order and a royal Samurai. Angellus stepped through the old, teak door to his hideout. He walked straight toward the kitchen, which housed a trap door down to his armoury. Two serpents slid along the stone walls on both sides. Angellus carried the weapons in duffel bags which looked as though they weighed nothing. To him, they did. He walked to an old wooden door and whispered a word to the eagle that sat on his gilded knocker. The first thing that greeted him was a suit of armour, a gas mask and a tricked out AK-74 assault rifle. He smiled thinly at the suit. It was a relic of an old war that had found Angellus a great many kills. He smiled as he walked past an interpretation of himself drawn by a youngster many, many years ago. He stared past it toward a gun rack full of high tech firearms. He dropped the duffel bags to the ground and started to search through the bags for a weapon to place on the one free space. Angellus quickly placed a tricked out H&K MP5SD sporting a stainless steel finish on the free space; it wasn’t a high tech weapon but it was an intimidating weapon nonetheless. He efficiently placed the rest of the weapons on shelves and in drawers, before proceeding further into the armoury. A great deal of sharp weapons sat in glass containers with small annotations describing the weapons that they housed. Samurai katana’s, scimitars, broadswords, claymores and a great deal more. Angellus always left a note saying who the original owner had been. He considered it a mark of respect. He strode deeper into the armoury, where it became progressively darker. He sidestepped through a trap and walked into the final room of the armoury; where he kept an ancient set of gilded armour and his most prized weapons. He pulled the gold plated Beretta from his back pocket and placed it in a pistol rack next to another handgun. He smiled as he recalled the story of that weapon, a man that had killed four hundred men had finally met his end with the Angellus. There's a bit more to this, but I want to know whether or not there's an interest in the story before I continue. Soo, comment etc thanks awesome ones.
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| Phovos | Monday, 27. February 2012, 08:32 Post #2 |
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Medicating Raptor
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Interesting, but I found the ride quite bumpy. There were various inconsistencies that disagreed with me, but I can't put my finger on them. This Angel seems too human, too vigilante. He doesn't seem like the character you described in the beginning. |
I have a whole website. It's kinda lame though.![]() | |
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| Koontay | Sunday, 11. March 2012, 21:51 Post #3 |
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I thought this was really interesting! The Angellus' personality is the best. He seems sort of emotionless, but he has a respect for the people he's killed and sort of an understanding what his job is. I would definitely want to read more. |
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thanks awesome ones.






2:08 PM Jul 11