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Post by llyon on Jan 12, 2011 4:29:06 GMT -6
 
The cold wind that blew through the city, carrying the stench of destruction and chaos, seemed to carress the back of Robin's neck as the goosebumps spread down his arms. Silently he breathed in and out, the sound of the wind moving in and out of his lungs the only sound that he heard. A sniper rifle lay set up in front of him, his left eye pressed up against the scope and his right closed against the sun. A muscle of his left arm twictched, making the latin incriptions on his skin seem to jump around. His forearm was starting to get sore from holding his finger on the trigger, but he was used to this feeling, and so was easily able to ignore it, just as he was able to ignore the roll of throwing daggers pressing against his thigh and the handles of his hand guns poking into his ribs. As the wind passed over him, he shivered. On any other day he would have been wearing a jacket, but today he hadn't felt the need as he was alone and would be that way for a while. And since he was alone, he had left the church and had flown to the bar near the outskirts. A jacket would only have hindered his black wings and so he decided to leave one behind. Now he laid on the roof of the old Bar, feeling the hard top dig into his skin underneath his thin shirt. The Deva had left the Church before the sun had even thought of rising in the sky and had made his way through the seemingly empty city. If he was going to spend the day hunting demons he would want an early start, and so he had packed up his gear and went out before anyone else knew where he had . Of course he had told Kody his whole plans for the day, as he was the only one that he truly trusted in the Chruch.
Shifting his shoulders slightly, he adjusted his position. Koby was the only one in the whole unit of Soliders that Robin actually trusted to some degree. After all, Koby had saved his life and so he owed him everything he knew. As if the memory of the day he met the medic called to them, the ragged scars on his chest seemed to twinge. Letting out a harsher breathe than he should have, Robin looked through the scope at his surroundings. he had been up there since before th sun had risen and now the sun was high overhead though he couldn't feel it's rays. Not much had changed since he had taken up a position here. As a sniper he moved around from place to place, but only after he managed to get a hit on a demon or tow. For some reason today it semmed like none of those said demons wanted to show their faces. Normally by this time the solider deva would have packed four or five, but the demons were getting smarter and learning where the soliders were planting their snipers. Though he didn't want to, Robin could remember everyone of his comrades that had died because the demons had found their locations. Unlike the other units in the Soliders, each sniper worked alone and checked in with a certain person. Over thirty had never made it back. Robin always did though, as having wings always served him better than his own two feet.
As he gazed out through the scope at his surroundings, he couldn't help but notice all the damage and no damage that patterened it's way across the streets. Every now and then a cars would be upturned, or laying in it's static position with nothing more than a broken windsheild. At other points, there would be a truck sitting there, looking as though it had just vome off the line, bearing no signs of physical damage to its body. It was the same way with the buildings. It seemed that every other one would have a broken window or be missing a door, whereas others were like they had been brought out of the past into the present. Most of those stores were shops that had sold items that had no use to the surviving humans at the moment. Such was life. Robin's dark green eye flashed and just as he was about to call this spot a dub, he captured movenment out of the corner of his eye. swinging his rifle in that direction, he watched as a rather short demon poked his ugly head around the building, it's black wings marking it for what it was. It seemed to come second nature to the Deva, breathing in, lining up the head with his crosshairs, breathing out, and gently squeezing the trigger. The bullet whipped out of the barrel with a crack and Robin watched as blood splattered upwards in a graceful arc as the demon's body dropped, hitting the ground with a dull thunk that barely reached Robin's ears. Then silence.
He laid on the roof for a few moments, and the pushed himself to his feet, putting on the suglasses that had been laying next to him. Standing to his full height or 6'6, he slung the rifle on his back. That's when he heard it. Footsteps. Someone was on the roof with him.
 STATUS # FINISHED FEATURING # ROBIN&PEC WORD COUNT # 900+ OUTFIT # CLICKNOTES # SORRY BOUT THE ENDING. I HAD NO CREATIVE IDEA ON HOW TO END IT. CREDIT # IRONICALLIZE_IT @ CAUTION 2.0 |
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Post by ella on Jan 12, 2011 12:45:10 GMT -6
 Pec could remember what it had been like to fly clearly. So clearly, it felt like the last time he had spread his wings and taken to the sky had only been yesterday. But it hadn’t, had it? He didn’t know how long ago it had been, how many years he’d wandered this world, slowly losing his mind until it was now in shards, spraying different colours over every movement and sound and smell. Time and ceased to be, for him. Now there was just day and night and then day again, a cycle that went round and round. It seemed to have died, in his mind. The passing of time was of no importance. It had woven it’s dance around him, then left, gotten bored of his fractured mind like everyone else. Why bother with something like that?
It had rained earlier. The sky had seen the broken world and wept once more. Hah. A giggle crept through the insane fallen’s lips as those words started to run in a cycle around his fractured rainbow of a mind. The sky would not weep at this. The sky was where the ones who had caused this had fallen from. And the rain wasn’t that bad, not bad at all. It was enough to stand in it, head tilted upwards and feel the cold water soak into his skin. But no, thinking like that, all poetry and prose, was stupid. The rain wasn’t tears. The drops he’d caught on his little pink pointed tongue hadn’t been salty enough.
This town was dead. The area of this town, more to the point, was broken and dead, and demon run. He wasn’t sure why he was here, hadn’t even noticed that he was here until a shot had cracked through the air, then a spray of blood had signified a now dead demon just around the corner. He’d backtracked from that. Even though Pec was insane, he wasn’t stupid. It was impossible to remain stupid, wasn’t it, in this world? Stupid people were killed, and he’d stayed alive for long enough for time to give up on him as well as everything else, so no. He wasn’t stupid.
The bar was the building which stood out to him now, rearing tall against the sky, and he still wasn’t thinking as he headed towards that. He wasn’t in a thinking mood, no, he was in a doing or talking mood. He’d done thinking (and talking, together, for talking to yourself was not a bad hobby) and now he was suffering from boredom. The demon which had been shot could have given him fun, he was sure of that. He could have fought it, and then grabbed hold if it had taken off, and experienced flying again. Oh, how he longed to fly again. Flying would make the trip to the top of the bar so much easier. But it wasn’t hard, was it? Coming down would be easier...that was it. That was why he was climbing the building. He wanted to fly again, so he would try. Who knew...perhaps the long flaps of his coat would act as wings and catch him, making him float instead of fall. It was something to do.
The blonde fallen pulled himself up onto the edge of the building without much hassle, kicking upwards against the wall when he could to land silently, crouched, catlike on the side. And looked down. He could try from here, of course...Try to fly again, to fall then fly. Had he ever tried to do that before. Quite probably, in fact. Perhaps it would work, this time. He straightened up, standing fully upright to his admittedly short height, balancing on the edge...
And then turned his head slowly, backtracking to see what he was sure he’d seen when he’d first climbed over the edge. Now...He turned his body fully, looking at the distant figure with his head cocked to one side. A soldier. This was the one who had stolen his fun by killing that demon? That thought made sense in his mind, it did, and the soldier wasn’t facing him. Who would he be to pass up on that opportunity?
He jumped down from the edge, landing into another crouch, less catlike and more crazy than his previous one, before standing up and walking forwards. Walking forwards over the roof towards the distant horizon of a ledge, towards the soldier, his hands slipping inside the pockets of his coat, wrapping his dext fingers around the handles of the carved throwing knives that were lying there. The soldier got closer, as he grew closer to the soldier, and then Pec paused as the man stood up. He was tall, much taller than Pec, and wider as well. Bigger, giant, a giant of a soldier. With weapons, and guns, and enough to kill a demon, obviously. Was Pec suicidal today? No...he was sure he wasn’t. He could have left then, just wandered off to find some toy or other, but now he was intrigued, and he hadn’t yet managed to find the piece of information in his mind that would tell him why. Either way, he drew closer, stopping a safe distance away from him.
He should say something, really. Introduce himself. Luckily, for Pec, a lack of words was never the problem. A lack of suitable words, yes...that was ever so much so a problem. “Y’know, lying up here all day...Do you ever just want to jump off and fly?”
 finished ::STATUS
robin ::TAGGED
900+ ::WORDCOUNT
::OUTFIT
hope this is ok xP ::NOTES
all mine, ‘cept lyrics. Those belong to Lady GaGa ::CREDIT [/size][/b] |
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Post by llyon on Jan 13, 2011 0:35:33 GMT -6
Goosebumps slid up and down his arms and across his chest, but Robin didn't notice them. They were little trival things that Robin didn't have time, though he had all the time in the world, to notice. He had distanced himself from his body and so things like goosebumps or shivers didn't bother him anymore. Oh he still shivered and he still have goosebumps, but his mind was too fair detached from his body to even register the fact that they had happened. As he thought about this, a shiver trailed down his spine. It had rained earlier and so his hair was still damp, plastered to his skull and his shirt and pants were cold to the touch. It hadn't been a downpour thankfully, but it had rained enough to get him wet, and so when he stood up the place where he had been laying down on, the outline of his body stood out clear as day as his body had blocked the rain from reaching that area. Of course he had toyed with the idea of letting his wings cover his body for heat, but he knew that the outline that his body would have left would have been questionable. The last thing he needed was for a solider to roam around his stopping grounds and see the oultine of a winged man on the rood. Noone, desides Koby, knew he was a Deva and he wanted to keep it that way.
Sometimes though, he wished that everyone knew who and what he exactly was. It wasn't that he was vain about his species, in fact he sometimes hated what he was, but it would just be easier for him to go through his life that way. There wouldn't be all this sneaking around in the dark so that when he flew, people wouldn't be able to recognize him. Things would be able to get done so much quicker that way. Instead of running from sniper site to sniper site he would be able to simply glide from place to place, therefore cutting down on travel time and uping the antiy on demon killing time. He would actually be able to use his strength for something other and just lifting things that normal humans couldn't and would be something bigger than what he was right now. But he knew that he would have to keep everything a secret at the moment because humans were so easily frightened. If they found out he was a Deva, they would never treat him the same way again. The last thing he wanted was the peope that, he wouldn't use the word 'friends', people that he was very falimiar with, to be scared of him.
There were many upsides to being a Deva as there were down sides. One of them was the heightened senses that allowed him to hear when people where trying to sneak up on. The extra ability to smell also came in handy as well. Like right now he could tell that by the heavyness of the footsteps behind him the person standing there was a man, and the scent that was something like a cold icy sweet smell that burned his nose. It was something like the angels that hung around the Church, but not as intense or icy. With his back still to the man, he let one of his hands fall down to his side, right within grabbing distance of the trhowign daggers that were bound around his thighs. Slowly, he turned his head, so he was able to see this newcomer through his periferals, his near black eyes flashing behind the sunglasses. He watched as the man stopped. “Y’know, lying up here all day...Do you ever just want to jump off and fly?” The Deva's eyes narrowed. His mind started racing. Was this just a random comment, or did he know what Robin was? He had never met this man before so he was certain that he didn't know anything to hurt Robin's relationship with the soliders, but he didn't want to take the chance. "No. I don't. Why?" Robin was a man of few words. Turning around to completely face the stranger, he leaned his weight on one foot. "What do you want?"
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Post by ella on Jan 13, 2011 11:55:09 GMT -6
Pec's eyes had dropped, while waiting for the other, much larger, man to respond. He wasn't one to take chances, after all. Actually, no, that was wrong...he did take chances, quite a lot of them, but never when he was thinking about them. Taking chances apparantly just came naturally to him, and it wasn't always a good thing. But he hadn't died, was still alive on this world that he had been at the creation for...although, he wasn't sure if that was a good thing either. But this man was a solider, a sniper judging by the weapons. Pec didn't have a problem with soldiers. They fought the demons, and he fought the demons, but he also fought the humans and the angels as well, so they didn't stay close. Soldiers were something tiny trying to make a difference. That was one view his mind would often latch onto, holding it still while other's seeped past.
He raised his eyes though, as the other man spoke. No, I don't. Why? How could you not? Up here, up above the ground, not so high but high enough, doing nothing but lying still and waiting, how could you not just want to fly? Then again, if you'd never flown before you had nothing to miss, did you? "I was just wondering..." he heard himself murmering from afar, and darted back inside his head to be there, to be in control of his words, "I would, you know. I came up here to do that. I miss flying..." Perhaps, a more sane person wouldn't have dropped that hint, wouldn't have brought up anything about his species, but Pec had long since given up hiding what he was. Hiding what he was, was pointless, especially during the momens when he wasn't quite sure what he was himself. He was a fallen, and he hated it and wanted out, and he let other's know about it. His mind was cluttered enough as it was, he didn't need to trap anymore inside the already over-flowing container.
He tilted his head to the side, his hand still deep inside his pockets, and inhaled slowly, his blue eyes still, for once, and fixed on the giant of a man. He didn't miss the ability to sense other's that much, not as much as flying...and he wasn't sure whether that was natural for a fallen, or not, to have a weakened sense of smell. There was a tang in the air, but that could also be the rain or the buildings, or even the sun. He wouldn't know. He couldn't remember ever smelling the sun. So perhaps there was something different about this man, perhaps not. After a moment's thought, Pec just shrugged. Literally shrugged, resolving the thoughts flickering around. He didn't really care what he was. He didn't recognise him, like he recognised Archangels, so he probably didn't hate him. His mind was rather simple, like that.
What do you want? He pursed his lips in thought at that. What did he want? His mind back, that would be nice. Somewhere warm to go, if he thought about it enough. Perhaps to finally be able to kill those he hated, that would be a plus. But for some reason, he didn't think this one meant any of that. It was a stray thought, that last one, because he could do, but he was concentrating for some reason. Usually, his mouth would have opened and all of that would have spilled out and he probably wouldn't have even noticed. But not now. How intriguing. "What I want..." he said slowly, before coming to a desicion.
"Y'know...I rather want a smoke." He nodded to himself, letting go of the knife in his pocket and grabbing the small battered packet of cigarrettes instead, pulling them out. Ohh...it was a little soggy...oh well. Better than nothing. He flicked open the packet, then looked upwards, suddenly realising that he was probably being quite rude. Well, he couldn't have that. "Want one?" he offered, smiling polietly.
finished ::STATUS
robin ::TAGGED
750+ ::WORDCOUNT
--- ::NOTES
all mine, ‘cept lyrics. Those belong to Lady GaGa ::CREDIT [/size][/b] |
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Post by llyon on Jan 14, 2011 6:39:00 GMT -6
For his whole life Robin had been the odd one out. It wasn't the fact that he was, well, basically a spawn of the devil if one removed from his mother's side or something like that, but just who he was as a person. This had started with his mother and had just escalted past the point of no return. Of course he had to be the one that was born to the only extremely religous freak in the whole entire town. His mother had actually been known as That Lady. That of course, had just boosted Robins confidence by a mile. His mother was the type of personal who competely believed in the old testament and stood on the corner preaching the word of God. Bullshit. The Deva had been hearing that crap since he was born and sometimes she would make him stand on the corner and preach. And he was too indifferent to care enough to do anything about it. It was just another job that needed to be done, and if he didn't do it correctly, he obviously wasn't accepting God into his heart and needed to be punished for it. Punishment was usually a slap with the thickly bound bible the old woman carried, or ocassicaly with a cat o nine tails. He hated that part of his life.
Sometimes he wondered it if would have been different if he had known who, or what his father was. From what his mother had told him, the man had shown up, done his thing, and then left. After first Robin had just thought him to be a very sick bastard, but as time went on, he knew that to not even come close to the truth. Though his life was pretty good desptie of his mother, he was, no had been angry all the time and acted out in everyway that for someone of that age could. He was a very violent child as well, often getting into fights. Little had he known that that had all been part of his father's nature kicking through. And then when he finally turned eighteen and the wings erupted from his back, he actually wasn't that suprised. He knew that something had been different with him. Maybe it was after his wings burst through his skin and he was looking down at the mangaled corpse of his mother did he really realise how true that statement was. And as the years progressed and he met a few others like him in this new war, he had realised that the best way to survive was just to detach youself from everything. Hence why his face was blank as he watched this man walking towards him.
Silently, his dark green stare trying to peirce the man with their intensity, he couldn't help but run the scent that the man gave off through his brain. when the Deva didn't know something, it got underneath his skin and itched until he could figure out what it was. That was the case with the smell. He had smelled it before, but he wasn't sure where. It was like a remonistant or a remonistant. "I was just wondering....I would, you know. I came up here to do that. I miss flying..." It seemed at first like the man was talking to himslef, but Robin watched his facial expressions. There were things that you could read in a face that would never be spoken in verbal words. When he talked about missing flying, Robin's eyebrow raised. The man had flown? The only things that could fly in this time were all the half breeds, angel and demons, and he doubted that this man was a demon. Of course there were always those that had been angels. The idea slammed home in Robins mind. How could he have been so slow to misread the smell. That smell was all over the Church. "Your a Fallen Angel." It wasn't a question but a statement.
It was nice to finally know what the man was, but that didn't lossen up Robins guard. Nothing ever did, as his guard was up even around Koby sometimes. IT was a second nature to him and he couldn't help it. So as he waited for this man to answer his question, Robin took a moment to lean the sniper rifle against the side of the rooftop. There was no point in holding it slung over his shoulder. And besides he had other powers as well, not to mentaion enough weapons on his person to flood a army with it. "What I want...Y'know...I rather want a smoke.....Want one?" Eyeing the man, Robin connected his eyes with the man's eyes and then took a step forward, to peel a cigarette out of the box. Normally he didn't smoke, but if someone offered he usually took the chance to. Putting a hand into one of his pockets, he was able to pull out his own lighter, and then held it out to the newcomer, his defense still up, his body still tense. "Name's Nash." Though he didn't get any strange vibes off of the man infront of him, Robin wouldn't trust him with his first name. Barely any people used his first name in the first place.
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Post by ella on Jan 15, 2011 7:02:34 GMT -6
You’re a Fallen Angel... Oh, that was nice. Despite his earlier small-part angst over dropping that hint about flying, Pec couldn’t help but think it was nice that this man knew what he was. He didn’t care about species, himself, which was why others found him so dangerous in this war. He simply didn’t care who he killed. He could be fighting with humans against demons, and then when the demons had gone, could turn on the human who’d been fighting best if he was still feeling tense and wanting to fight. He just didn’t care. The only ones he cared about, and actively hated, were the Archangels. The old ones, the originals, the ones he’d spent time with, up there. And then the angels who were as old as him, but who had managed to stay where they were, in Heaven. So yes, he was a Fallen. And it was oddly relaxing that the man knew it, had worked it out for himself. It meant he didn’t have to waste energy on trying to either hide it or make it clear. Although, there was something about that statement which stung at him a little.
“Yep,” he said absently, his eyes moving away from the larger man’s, scanning the area around them, flicking between the earth and the sky, the sky which matched the colour of his eyes. “Well, no. Not ‘A’. ‘The’. Not sure if anyone fell before me, you see.” If he still had a sense of time, he would have said that it had all happened so long ago. But he wasn’t sure if anyone had fallen before him. Perhaps some had. But those which had, must have moved on to better things. Either back up, or fallen down further, but not Pec. No, Pec was the one who was constantly stuck in limbo. Alone, insane, and slightly afraid, if he delved into it any further. Not that he’d say any of that to a stranger, of course. That would probably be considered to be impolite.
The man’s body was still being held tense, despite the fact that he’d put the rifle down. Pec didn’t blame him. Being relaxed in this time, in this war, was most likely suicide. There were so many fighters on both sides, fighters who’d kill anyone of them without a second’s thought, and then others, other’s like Pec who just wandered around and killed when they felt like it. It was slightly impressive, though, he had to admit. Other soldiers would have pointed the gun at him, levelled it at his head and fired as soon as they’d realised what he was, but this one had put it down. Of course, Pec was silly. He realised that any soldier didn’t just carry one gun, but still. The principle was a rather nice one.
He moved his eyes back to meet the other man’s, and turned the corners of his mouth up into a small smile. He slipped one of the cigarettes out of the packet, twirling it deftly in his fingers – practise having come from someone who had smoked since that things had first been invented. Smoking didn’t kill Fallen’s, apparently. That was a human thing. Like drinking himself to death, that didn’t work either. He was still angelic, in a way, and so couldn’t commit suicide...he’d thought smoking or drinking and dying from that might have been an easy way out....but evidently fate still hated him in that way as well.
“Ta,” he said softly, but his smile brightening slightly as the lighter was offered freely to him. He didn’t have one of them, now that he thought about it. Now that he bothered to think about it, more to the point. He’d just always found something before...and he had had one. Or many, but one he could remember the most. It had been silver, with ornate carvings on the outside, very pretty and attractive to the eye. He looked at this one as he twirled it in his hands. What had happened to his? He wasn’t sure...he didn’t even know when he’d had it, after all. It could have been years ago, centuries, or it could have been yesterday. It was all the same thing to Pec.
Name’s Nash... He laughed softly. “That’s a nice name. Alliterative. Makes it soft and pretty to say...Nash...” He didn’t even consider that it wasn’t his real name...and even if he had done, he wasn’t that sure that he would have managed to care at all. It was something to call him by, and that was all that mattered. It wasn’t as if a simple meeting on a rooftop would ever climb to anything more, was it? Pec wasn’t an idiot, despite not being a realist, and he knew that names were just something in this world. His was idiotic. Odd how, despite everything, the thing which had stuck by him the most was his name. “I’m Pec. Just Pec.” Not just Pec, but his name was too long and his surname made him out to be insane. He was insane, he knew it, but when meeting knew people, and having something like a civilised conversation, admitting that wasn’t a wise move. And his name was his...It was really all that had remained his. He’d worn the same name when he’d been up there, a lowly creature, but higher than he was right now. “Nash is nicer than Pec though. Sounds...softer. Whatcha doin’ up here then, Nash, if it’s not planning to fly?” The answer to that was actually quite obvious, wasn’t it? He was a sniper...but oh well. He was making conversation.
finished ::STATUS
robin ::TAGGED
900+ ::WORDCOUNT
a bit rambly, sorry xP ::NOTES
all mine, ‘cept lyrics. Those belong to Lady GaGa ::CREDIT [/size][/b] |
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