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Azrael Arrives in the City of Angels(Starter)
Azrael
walked down an almost abandoned alley in a light rain wearing a black
leather jacket over what looked to be a black tank top, glancing at the
shadowed faces she passed of the unfortunate's who lived on the streets
or hid away there.
The city of Angels, it reeked of sewage and disease. It was the perfect
place to hide herself and wait to see what the others planned to do.
The
smell that filled her nostrils and clouded her lungs was enough to keep
any angel away. Or so she hoped. Mold growing in the rotting frames of
buildings while algae formed in puddles scattered along the city and
rats rummaged through the decaying food mixed with trash in several
dumpsters within a four block radius. She heard whispers of miracles
being cast and knew it was only a matter of time before the other angels
would show up.
As she walked, shoving her hands into the pockets of her blood stained
blue jeans with several scattered holes along her thighs and two over
the knees exposing them as she walked, she headed towards a rundown bar
that the humans seemed to flock to. They let their souls rot in whiskey
and sex. Diseases plagued them so badly it reminded her of Pestilence.
The rust and bitter copper of the city left a horrid taste in her mouth
but the pain the cities souls gave off was too enticing to pass up.
She dragged the soles of her boots on the ground with every step and
listened to the soft thumping they made on wet pavement while muttering
to herself "I fear it may be time to leave this place soon. Pity I was
hoping to take all their souls, I even planned the most violent of
earthquakes too. Looks like I will need to circle back around......."
Since her father had left, she had disappeared, the lower levels where
fighting for who would take over. She had no interest in their politics
or their tantrums.
Her older brother, the pale horseman, was busy
collecting the names in her book while she went into hiding after her
father did. Some believed her to be dead and that was good enough for
her. She was going to avoid the others for as long as possible. She was
in charge of Death and Desolation or Destruction if you prefer, being
the one to bring God's wrath unto the humans. She made the great flood,
the plagues, and other natural disasters that ended up in a high body
count. She was also in control of reapers and soul collection being
judge, jury and executioner.
The only problem was that now, with her father missing, her souls had to
now deal with the battle in Heaven. She did not care about the angels,
or her father leaving, but when the others started messing up her area
of expertise, well that crossed the line and she knew soon she would
have to return and put them all in their places, including the other
Archangels.
She was always hated by the other angels for she was made from darkness,
a bone from Death himself as a way to keep him in line. After the flood
he grew hungrier for more souls and almost wiped out whatever was left.
She was made to be chained to him; invisible silver chains embedded in
her forearms under her skin. She took on a grotesque form and many
whispered if she was really an angel. She was the Archangel of Death and
Gabriel only took the role as seat filler, being sent out on tasks too
small to waste her time on. In her true form she stands 990 feet tall,
just taller than the Eiffel Tower.
She has four faces and four thousand rotting, black wings, and her whole
body consists of eyes and tongues, the number of which corresponds to
the number of people inhabiting the Earth. She will be the last to die,
recording and erasing constantly in a large book the names of men at
birth and death.
Her vessel however was a heartbroken stripper who lost
her mother and prayed to Azrael in her time of need to which Azrael
appeared to her and took residence in her body, it being a perfect fit
for her and her power.
Her Vessel is 5'3 with half black and half red hair that reaches to the
middle of her back in length. She has long bangs in front that she
pushes to the left side of her face. She has a size 36G Chest and her
eyes shift from blue, green, or grey in color but she has the rare
chances of them turning black like a demon.
She has a tattoo of two
black wings with deep purple feathers on her back that go from her
shoulder blades to just above the word "Fallen" written in old English
on her lower back. The wings are wrapped in barbed wire and dripping
blood. She wears a black tank top with the word skin on the front and is
shredded up the sides revealing several other tattoos on her fit frame
and wears black steel toe work boots that are loosely tied.
As she approached the bar, she let out an aggravated sigh and grabbed
the door yanking it open to step inside. She walked to the bar avoiding
the eyes of downtrodden men and women to sit on a stool with her back to
the door. She ordered a whiskey and when it was handed to her, she
sipped it lightly while taking in the pain and suffering of the souls
around her. Sometimes feeling their emotions was a gift and a curse but
for the moment, she saw it as a gift.
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