Docter Bliss
New Member
Before quantifiable time there was a grey zone referred to as the PT (post time). That time belonged to a master race. The Creators. They were called, "Angles". They forged the galaxies out of nothing. Endless cities and beautiful landscapes. It was perfect... For everyone except Bliss. He was bored. So much creation, but so little inside. He longed for more. For life...
For this many angels laughed at him, disrespected him and thought he was mad. Through determination and ambition he achieved the impossible. It started off small, almost invisible, but he worked and worked creating bigger, more complex forms of life.
The other angels still laughed and ridiculed his creations. They were deemed abominations. Under this sudden 'need to prove' himself, he did the unspeakable. He made humans. A species completely based off of angels. When he showed his product to the other angels, they were delighted, but not in Bliss' favour. They ignored the fact that humans, all of his work. Life. That it was HIS work.
He became crazed with anguish. All we wanted now was to kill. To destroy everything they loved, starting with humans.
He went "rogue", they sent angels and angels after him. None returned alive. He was named the angel of death, fallen under the light of corruption. Even to this day, his whereabouts were unknown. But he swore, he swore he would come back and turn their tears of happiness into tears and ash in their mouths.
Abyssal clouds of smoke curled around the angel like a shroud of shadows. He stepped forward into the empty stage. Gazing nervously upon the ginormous audience of mundanes. Moments passed before the blinding spotlight met him centre stage. A hundred thousand eyes beamed on him, extinguishing his shadows like water onto fire. His plain jet black robes lay perfectly still, undisturbed. His large eery hood masked his face.
The anticipation hung in the massive theatre. Minutes passed as murmurs spread like a bad smell. "Was this part of the show?" Or, "why is it taking so long?"
Both were good questions but neither would be answered. They couldn't, Neiphan had undid all the cast members of staff in the building, rather effortlessly. He enjoyed their muffled screams. They were soothing, like songs to a restless mind.
Even that would look minuscule to his next act. The main act. The purpose of all the audiences miserable lives had amounted to. He would slaughter them like cattle. Their screams would soar across the starry night sky.
Finally he was ready. He stepped forward, hushing silence to the restless crowd. He reached out, fingers sliding the mic of it's stand, ushering a horrid screech. He chuckled quietly under his hood, watching the crowd twist and turn, gritting their teeth and clasping their ears uncomfortably. They were all so weak.
The evil angel was practically jittering with excitement. Now it was time. It was his time.
If he'd just... Wait! What? He felt a powerful presence. A presence of another angle, right here. In this building.
His shock quickly melted into rage, almost too quickly. "This is the one thing! The one thing I ever wanted! You can't do this to me! This is my design! They are my design!" He angle roared into the mic. The crowd fell silent, innocently believing this is the opening scene to the show. The angel sulked quietly, his shadows twisting and turning with anguish.
No.
He wouldn't let some angel stop him. He had killed many before. That angel will die with the rest in a beautiful array of death. This was time. His time to reclaim what was his.
Life.
If only he knew this angel was different. Unlike any he'd encountered, maybe, just maybe he'd be able to prevent it...
--
((Not a clue what this is...))
--
((Now, this is my first post on this sight, so I may be messing up some stuff, but my roleplaying skills are top notch. I require one person. Be creative. Multi para/ Semi para preferred... Lastly, have fun with it!))
For this many angels laughed at him, disrespected him and thought he was mad. Through determination and ambition he achieved the impossible. It started off small, almost invisible, but he worked and worked creating bigger, more complex forms of life.
The other angels still laughed and ridiculed his creations. They were deemed abominations. Under this sudden 'need to prove' himself, he did the unspeakable. He made humans. A species completely based off of angels. When he showed his product to the other angels, they were delighted, but not in Bliss' favour. They ignored the fact that humans, all of his work. Life. That it was HIS work.
He became crazed with anguish. All we wanted now was to kill. To destroy everything they loved, starting with humans.
He went "rogue", they sent angels and angels after him. None returned alive. He was named the angel of death, fallen under the light of corruption. Even to this day, his whereabouts were unknown. But he swore, he swore he would come back and turn their tears of happiness into tears and ash in their mouths.
Abyssal clouds of smoke curled around the angel like a shroud of shadows. He stepped forward into the empty stage. Gazing nervously upon the ginormous audience of mundanes. Moments passed before the blinding spotlight met him centre stage. A hundred thousand eyes beamed on him, extinguishing his shadows like water onto fire. His plain jet black robes lay perfectly still, undisturbed. His large eery hood masked his face.
The anticipation hung in the massive theatre. Minutes passed as murmurs spread like a bad smell. "Was this part of the show?" Or, "why is it taking so long?"
Both were good questions but neither would be answered. They couldn't, Neiphan had undid all the cast members of staff in the building, rather effortlessly. He enjoyed their muffled screams. They were soothing, like songs to a restless mind.
Even that would look minuscule to his next act. The main act. The purpose of all the audiences miserable lives had amounted to. He would slaughter them like cattle. Their screams would soar across the starry night sky.
Finally he was ready. He stepped forward, hushing silence to the restless crowd. He reached out, fingers sliding the mic of it's stand, ushering a horrid screech. He chuckled quietly under his hood, watching the crowd twist and turn, gritting their teeth and clasping their ears uncomfortably. They were all so weak.
The evil angel was practically jittering with excitement. Now it was time. It was his time.
If he'd just... Wait! What? He felt a powerful presence. A presence of another angle, right here. In this building.
His shock quickly melted into rage, almost too quickly. "This is the one thing! The one thing I ever wanted! You can't do this to me! This is my design! They are my design!" He angle roared into the mic. The crowd fell silent, innocently believing this is the opening scene to the show. The angel sulked quietly, his shadows twisting and turning with anguish.
No.
He wouldn't let some angel stop him. He had killed many before. That angel will die with the rest in a beautiful array of death. This was time. His time to reclaim what was his.
Life.
If only he knew this angel was different. Unlike any he'd encountered, maybe, just maybe he'd be able to prevent it...
--
((Not a clue what this is...))
--
((Now, this is my first post on this sight, so I may be messing up some stuff, but my roleplaying skills are top notch. I require one person. Be creative. Multi para/ Semi para preferred... Lastly, have fun with it!))
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