Post by Dylan Costigan on Sept 15, 2009 12:22:00 GMT -5
Dylan Costigan
2010 MALE compassionate Fallen Angel
[/color] “Damnation in a tomb for you. For all eternity. The only thing to accompany you is your own screams. And perhaps when your vocal cords are all worn out you’ll become mute. Then perhaps I’ll accept you again to be in my presence… Until then you aren’t worth it.”[/color] Belial turned to a few of the other Gangys guards that had remained on the outskirts. He gave an approving nod and then suddenly they came forward with pikes in hands, preparing a tomb to trap Melanchthon in for the rest of his days. Belial turned his sapphire spheres back onto his son, and then pulled one of the blades from shoulder. He tossed the blade to a Cleanser that he felt he could trust. Then he turned back to the guard and spoke coldly, “Bleed him dry…” Belial leaned forward to his son once again, watching the fool, looking at the pain and the anguish that expired from his face like precipitation. He lifted his chin up. Pay attention. Know who locks you away. Do not look away in fear. Do not turn your glance away in pain. You will see all of this. Even if unconsciousness takes his son, he will make the Narafan coward awake him. This is what happens when you betray Belial Kullvinus.
WHAT CAN YOU DO?Just as any typical angel or fallen angel for that matter, Sariel has superhuman strength. But because he’s a fallen angel, he has lost his abilities. He’s rather fast but not as quick as a vampire or a werewolf. His speed is only quick because of his human host.
Sariel is still very talented with a sword. As his title and former position as a general of heaven, he is virtuoso with a blade. Lastly, he is still immortal. His human body may age, but his spirit or essence still continues to thrive but never to die.
TELL US ALL ABOUT YOU!A fallen Angel expelled from the heavens because of his lust for the daughters of men, Sariel Azaziah was the swordhand of the heavens of above and one of the prominent generals in his time. One of the four Fallen Angels who believe they ascend to the heavens once more, Sariel will stop at nothing to find the methods in reaching the heavens once again.
As a feminine male, Sariel is one of the most elegant Fallen Angels to have fallen. It was even speculated that Sariel was a woman instead of a male. Although when he was once upon the ranks of Angels, they say his name was written upon the shields of the forces of heaven, representing courage, self-control and tolerance.
When the one they called Michael was the “Angel of Death” many speculated that Sariel would be next in line to carry the title. When the announcement came that the next “Angel of Death” would be Gabriel, Sariel grew weary and envious. His appointment of the title eventually did come, but not before he turned his attention onto the daughters of man, and was eventually expelled from the heavens.
And as the world grew dark for him, and all else was failing, including his faith, he wondered the world endlessly to find a purpose for him. He found one upon the lands of a place called New York, where he possessed the male Dylan Costigan who was currently working as a freelance journalist. If Sariel was anything, he was a warrior and his lust for battle lied dormant now in a frail human shell.
Sariel has been called “Sariel, the Angel of Death.” His ominous yet, deeply committed acts of killing has earned him this name, and thus remarked as one of the deadliest Angels to have fallen from grace. But a time came, that Sariel and Dylan Costigan (his host) had a mental falling out They had opposing feelings towards their purpose on the earth. Dylan felt the need to protect his fellow mortals, while Sariel felt differently and his growing appetite for his sins to be forgiven grew unbearable. Sariel wanted to find a way to ascend to the heavens.
On numerous occasions he has been in conjunction with other Fallen Angels. His recent meeting has occured in New York, where they have convened in order to find the keys to the pearly gates. He has heard news of who may possess them, yet he heard this particular character is a bit of a coward and may not be willing to give them up. But if he does not, Sariel would be not be the least hard-pressed to take it by force.
wow, i'm glad to be joining URBAN ARCANA. my name just so happens to be Mr. Grey, and the celebrity who i am using just so happens to be Jared Padalecki. i've been doing this for 13+ years, so i pretty much know how this all works.
-- rp sample here... it can be from another site. more than 450 words please.
To grow bold in the face of the Devil was a riddle in the dark, and a curse in the light. Such a fool his son had become, damned forever in the inner walls of a tomb would be his damnation. And if the case was so severe perhaps his absolution. Damned fool. He wanted death so easily, he wouldn’t give it. Torture. An eternity of suffering in his on phobia. Pitting himself against the darkness and its little whispering imps. Belial knew all too well of the whispering imps. They were helpful. The last bit of his Fallen sanity. Of what was left of that human side. No remorse. No sadness would this idiot get. He received enough his troubles long ago and to deal another century staring at this man in his own image would be enough to last him a lifetime. And so it would be.
And hence he stood, departed and returned to watch the progress of these Gangys soldiers. In the meantime, the wielder of the sword came. And like a stabbing practice Melanchthon’s body became. A dart board for a sharp sword. This was the method. An invention he had created to bleed his enemies before he finalized their deaths. But in Melanchthon case, Belial did it… for the hell of it. For the pure sport. This was punishment, instead of death. He should be grateful, the trickster. Belial looked back over his shoulder in incredulity. Bleed him. Stick him until all his blood pours onto the soil. Let him realize that treachery will not go unpunished. Not in this age. Not in this lifetime. Fool of a whorish mother. That is what this all came down to be. No son of his could be this weak. Given the credulity to the whore, weak and perspiring of flaws he could understand how his two sons became what they were today. Leaning forward once again to see the likes of his son in this punishment of blood. He placed a hand underneath a bleeding wound in a cup formation and he brought his hands to his lips, leaning his hands back to his mouth he drank and all Melanchthon’s juices and then licked his mouth clean. He found the ideal of drinking blood to be disturbing. But there was something about this. To taste the urge and the feistiness of the Lycan in it, it made him think of that slaughter he gave to Antissa and Katima centuries ago. The thought of it made him chuckle. And before long he drew the other blade from Melanchthon’s shoulder, and watched as it limped over, wrecked and ravaged just how he liked his victims. He took a step further and he leaned down closer to his son, with intentions of releasing secrets that only he knew. [/color] “You think you know about the Hordra… but you don’t. The Hordra was created for one purpose… and one purpose alone. To protect my daughter, and nothing more.”[/color]
Merciless creature…[/color]
did i mention this application template was created by JESSICA. She was bored, and felt inspired. So yeah, credit is due where it is due. She goes by GAGA @ CAUTION. Not that it matters since she rarely posts anything there.
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