-
This section is for roleplays only.
ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.
Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.
The Most Unlikely Pair {Cookie & Krampus}
- Thread starter Krampus
- Start date
Snowfeather
✨breedable ✨
Nope, not really. That could be the case upstairs, though. No, not...Earth. You need to go a little bit higher up, and you will come to Heaven. Where celestial beings placed in a hierarchy rule over the world in their own, special, Godly ways. They claim to speak the language of destiny, and whilst most of you humans seem to believe this to be true, most know better. Well, technically you are all blinded, one way or another.. Okay then, moving on from that Hell - pun very so intended.
Once upon a time, there was an empty space. Then, came darkness, ruling over this empty space for centuries. Then came the light, who fought to balance this new, chaotic world. In the end, when light prevailed and darkness was contained, the world seemed to - for once - make sense. There was an odd concept of harmony in the air, and destiny twirled its thread as the once empty cloth seemed to litter up with images of past, present and future. You know, its job.
Then came Life, joined by Death. Two equals, two of the same, yet forever destined as rivals. What Life gave, Death could take away, almost like an older brother, stealing the younger's toys. Of course, then came you, humans. Life created you, claiming to be the Father of the people, earning all and everyone's gratefulness, trust, loyalty and heart. Then came the celestial beings, the angels of the Lord, the warriors. Made to protect mankind and its treasures from the darkness, as demons rose from the ashes, raised by Death himself.
Still, the rivalry ran deep in their blood, and as Death watched the people and their devotion to Life, he grew more and more corrupt. Never before had any humans worried of sickness, pain, and of course death, and for this their love for Life only grew. Until the day when the Gates of Hell finally opened. Chaos once more ruled as the darkness was set free, and the world seemed to be at an end - the apocalypse. Death rose to power, for Life claimed he wouldn't fight. For centuries, people were afraid of the night and the dark it brought. They feared for their lives, and many ended up losing it.
Once Death took hold, their souls were doomed to roam Hell for all of eternity, where their pain and suffering would never end. Then came the archangels; Michael, Raphael, Gabriel and Uriel. Four brothers, and Life's most faithful servants. They battled the dark, before eventually forcing Death back into his domain. However the damage was done, and death would forever stay in the once more harmonious world. Death still does whatever he pleases, seeing how all but Gabriel were slaughtered in the war.
Of course, Death did not fear the youngest, for just like himself, Gabriel was a true trickster. He grew independent, and left Life's realm, to live in the human world, to spread his own chaos in your realm. He never grew restless, however his corruption did grow. Many angels feared Gabriel would give up his loyalty to Death, but as it was, destiny saw to it, that the two would never meet again, in fear of throwing the world into chaos once again. No, destiny would run its course, and one can only hope that this world one day will see forgiveness, and peace..
Between Life... and Death...
[ I didn't really know what to do, so after tons of time thinking, I decided to just post a filler - sorry! Hope it's okay! @Krampus ]
Last edited by a moderator:
Krampus
Santa's Shadow
(Ew my posts are short xc)
And so history had been set. Life turning belly up to the superior entity of Death. Three of the Archangels had been permanently bound to Heaven's land, never to leave due to many complicated laws. Which left the creator of the Living to tend to all the wrongfully treated and punished. The Soul Shepherd, who opposed the Grim Reaper.
Having his best cut down so easily, except for youngest Gabriel. That young colt would need some talking to, having heard of his current occupations. No matter, for now. Life had more important things to do. Gabriel was no priority, as Life had made his very existence, along with his brothers. Their power was beyond dwarfed when compared to him. Just as demons were when compared to Death himself.
Many depict God, or Vishnu, or Zeus as some almighty King. Not that any of them are real. No, they were just different labels and interpretations of the real thing, which happened to actually be a Unicorn. Who made man out of dirt, air, flame and water. Dirt, to make their soft flesh, that had the option of becoming hard. Air, to give them ability to breathe. Flame, to make their souls and animate their body. And the ever changing water, to give them emotion. It was actually this being that indeed created most of man. His other partner, however, put his little bit in too. Death gave man flaws. Made them have fear, hate, sadness, every bad emotion known to all. Life had made man to be beautiful, perfect creatures. Yet Death ruined his greatest creations, by corrupting them and giving them reasons to become so. How vile man has become.
Still, they could be given a chance after their dying.
The elegant being took a walk through the glistening forest within his home realm. Always sunshine, plants full of life, and no corruption. The Unicorn took soft, calm steps, hooves leaving seemingly no tracks behind as they pressed into the soft grass. The occasional angel, person or animal that walked by dipped their head in respect. It wasn't mandatory, but Life didn't mind. He knew it was a sign that they believed in him, even though he lost his hold in the mortal realm. Yet, he still ventured there. Humans prepared some pretty good insect dishes.
Coming to a certain point, the beautiful animal stopped. Snowy mane rippling a little as he halted.
"To open up the Gate to Hell, you must become Hell."
The tip of his long, thin horn sparked for a moment, glowed with bright light. Then, thick, dark, tarred magic oozed from his horn. Leaning forward, the horn touched some unseen wall, a large and dark line opening up. Then, it split open into a portal. His own gate to Hell. Life is able to do this as long as the living are impure. He cleanses them upon taking them into Heaven, their vile and bad qualities being taken into himself. If he didn't take their vile nature, he wouldn't have fuel to open portals to Hell. Unless Death allowed him in, which would never happen.
And so the male stepped through, dark aura leaving his horn upon doing so. Why venture to Hell? No one else willingly would. It was because he needed to retrieve some souls that received unfair trial. When demons tried to go through the portal, they shrieked and wailed as they seemed to fall apart and crumble. Any who leaped at the Unicorn, were blasted in the face with a beam of light. Before he resumed his walk, he closed the portal. Then continuing his trip, he was rather stealthy in his movement, even with his pure white coat, and positive aura.
Head turning, he looked for something in particular. Finding it, he hurried over, legs stretching out to carry him quickly. He came to stop among a mass of enslaved souls, put to work for whatever reason. Some of them glared at first, but most of them looked excited. Happy. Life was only here to collect one hundred though, out of the massive, near ever going amount Hell had. The souls wailed and rattled their shackles as the great being took his seven, and turned away with them. He would take them to Heaven, and clean them up. They didn't deserve time in Hell. So he was going to take them home. Life needed to go to the same place he opened his portal to get back though, where it was easiest to open a portal. He had been doing this for centuries, and had yet to be caught.
@Cookie Dough
And so history had been set. Life turning belly up to the superior entity of Death. Three of the Archangels had been permanently bound to Heaven's land, never to leave due to many complicated laws. Which left the creator of the Living to tend to all the wrongfully treated and punished. The Soul Shepherd, who opposed the Grim Reaper.
Having his best cut down so easily, except for youngest Gabriel. That young colt would need some talking to, having heard of his current occupations. No matter, for now. Life had more important things to do. Gabriel was no priority, as Life had made his very existence, along with his brothers. Their power was beyond dwarfed when compared to him. Just as demons were when compared to Death himself.
Many depict God, or Vishnu, or Zeus as some almighty King. Not that any of them are real. No, they were just different labels and interpretations of the real thing, which happened to actually be a Unicorn. Who made man out of dirt, air, flame and water. Dirt, to make their soft flesh, that had the option of becoming hard. Air, to give them ability to breathe. Flame, to make their souls and animate their body. And the ever changing water, to give them emotion. It was actually this being that indeed created most of man. His other partner, however, put his little bit in too. Death gave man flaws. Made them have fear, hate, sadness, every bad emotion known to all. Life had made man to be beautiful, perfect creatures. Yet Death ruined his greatest creations, by corrupting them and giving them reasons to become so. How vile man has become.
Still, they could be given a chance after their dying.
The elegant being took a walk through the glistening forest within his home realm. Always sunshine, plants full of life, and no corruption. The Unicorn took soft, calm steps, hooves leaving seemingly no tracks behind as they pressed into the soft grass. The occasional angel, person or animal that walked by dipped their head in respect. It wasn't mandatory, but Life didn't mind. He knew it was a sign that they believed in him, even though he lost his hold in the mortal realm. Yet, he still ventured there. Humans prepared some pretty good insect dishes.
Coming to a certain point, the beautiful animal stopped. Snowy mane rippling a little as he halted.
"To open up the Gate to Hell, you must become Hell."
The tip of his long, thin horn sparked for a moment, glowed with bright light. Then, thick, dark, tarred magic oozed from his horn. Leaning forward, the horn touched some unseen wall, a large and dark line opening up. Then, it split open into a portal. His own gate to Hell. Life is able to do this as long as the living are impure. He cleanses them upon taking them into Heaven, their vile and bad qualities being taken into himself. If he didn't take their vile nature, he wouldn't have fuel to open portals to Hell. Unless Death allowed him in, which would never happen.
And so the male stepped through, dark aura leaving his horn upon doing so. Why venture to Hell? No one else willingly would. It was because he needed to retrieve some souls that received unfair trial. When demons tried to go through the portal, they shrieked and wailed as they seemed to fall apart and crumble. Any who leaped at the Unicorn, were blasted in the face with a beam of light. Before he resumed his walk, he closed the portal. Then continuing his trip, he was rather stealthy in his movement, even with his pure white coat, and positive aura.
Head turning, he looked for something in particular. Finding it, he hurried over, legs stretching out to carry him quickly. He came to stop among a mass of enslaved souls, put to work for whatever reason. Some of them glared at first, but most of them looked excited. Happy. Life was only here to collect one hundred though, out of the massive, near ever going amount Hell had. The souls wailed and rattled their shackles as the great being took his seven, and turned away with them. He would take them to Heaven, and clean them up. They didn't deserve time in Hell. So he was going to take them home. Life needed to go to the same place he opened his portal to get back though, where it was easiest to open a portal. He had been doing this for centuries, and had yet to be caught.
@Cookie Dough
Snowfeather
✨breedable ✨
[ I think it's fine! ]
Welcome to Hell, where all your fears and troubles disappear! Sure, so does all your happiness, hope and joy, but then again, what did you expect? Founded by Death, this unique realm has its ups and downs, despite what most would like to think. There are bad days, and there are worse days, seeing how you could never have a relatively "good" day in Hell - unless you're Death himself. The souls who are lucky enough - unlucky perhaps - to be brought here, will of course give bad reviews, but that's just because they're vengeful!
Right? Sure, Hell ain't too bad! Oh wait, it's Hell.. Sorry about that.
Death, known as a tyrant, a monster, the one who is destined to end the world. Well, so may be it, but in no case is there only one side to the coin. There's heads, and there's tails. Then, there's also what's in between, the middle, the coin itself, what really matters. He is not all death, killing and suffering, for just like his rival - Life, he is a creator. He raised an entire species, and compared to Life, he does not find amusement in enslaving his children, but knows he has to earn it. He does so every second, every minute, every hour, every day, and will keep doing so for the rest of his eternal life.
If you were to describe the relationship between Life and Death, three words ought to come to mind; hatred, resentment, and rejection. Yes, it is true that the two's relationship oozed with hatred and resentment, one side not wanting anything to do with the other - but perhaps it is not the other way around. Perhaps all the hatred, all the resentment and all this pain is one-sided. Perhaps it is only one side responsible for rejection, and only one side who feels this way. Maybe, just maybe, one side is so different from the other, that everything has been misunderstood.
Perhaps, there is hope... but we are all too blinded to see it.
"My King, a figure was spotted entering Hell," the voice of an elegant, petite girl reached a monster's ears. He turned his head to gaze down at the small creature who had approached down the long carpet, through the eyes of a beast. A rumble erupted from its throat as it gazed down, taking in this girl's features. Long, pink hair fell down her shoulder and back, standing out against her bright, green eyes and smooth, porcelain skin. She was overly thin, as if starved, and wore a torn, bloody dress. Despite the scars that littered her face and body, she had a content smile on her face, however her eyes dead cold. Oh, you see..this girl wasn't actually smiling. It seemed so, only because someone had carved the smile into her face with a knife, just before she died.
She gazed up at the creature before her, her King, sitting upon his grand throne, with slight fear in her eyes. Before her, he sat, his red color endearing and his form huge. He towered over her greatly, and the way his yellow eyes studied her would make any creature - living or dead - tremble. The magnificent dragon blinked his eyes, before puffing out smoke through his nostrils. "And who may this figure be? I doubt any creature in their sane mind would consider entering this domain without my consent," he spoke, his voice loud, clear, demanding, and most of all charming.
A true seducer, a true charmer, and a true danger. He could take what you most cared for in life in the blink of an eye, while you would be too busy gazing into his eyes and falling for his dazzling to smile to stop him - or even notice.
"W-Well... Some of the demons say they saw a unicorn, but I-" She was cut off as the King growled loudly, the beast furious. "A unicorn?!" he roared, before he spread his wings. The roof of the grand room, the throne room, opened up, and the beast took to the sky. [ OMG THAT REFERENCE ] He roared as he took in the sight of his broken kingdom, before sensing a magical aura, unlike anything else in his realm. It was too clean, too pure, too strong to belong. And he knew exactly what it was..
Landing on the ground, the creature shifted to what you could call his more "human-friendly" appearance, where he looked like a human. Normally he only used this form when leaving his realm to go to another, so few in Hell but those who knew what they ought to recognized him. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the scent of that aura, and soon enough, there he was - a feet away. He narrowed his eyes and a smirk appeared on his face as he gazed at the unicorn.
"Well hello there, My Lord. You here on a picnic?" he greeted darkly, mocking him, before snapping his fingers. The two appeared in an empty room, and the devil grinned as he strutted around the rare horse. "Or perhaps, you're here for a little visit, yes?" He added. He waved his hand, forcing the other to shift to his weaker, human form. His eyes glowed red as he approached Life, a wild look in his crimson eyes. "Then again, I would of thought that you would invite me.." he said, his voice dark, compelling and enchanting as he grinned.
@Krampus
Welcome to Hell, where all your fears and troubles disappear! Sure, so does all your happiness, hope and joy, but then again, what did you expect? Founded by Death, this unique realm has its ups and downs, despite what most would like to think. There are bad days, and there are worse days, seeing how you could never have a relatively "good" day in Hell - unless you're Death himself. The souls who are lucky enough - unlucky perhaps - to be brought here, will of course give bad reviews, but that's just because they're vengeful!
Right? Sure, Hell ain't too bad! Oh wait, it's Hell.. Sorry about that.
Death, known as a tyrant, a monster, the one who is destined to end the world. Well, so may be it, but in no case is there only one side to the coin. There's heads, and there's tails. Then, there's also what's in between, the middle, the coin itself, what really matters. He is not all death, killing and suffering, for just like his rival - Life, he is a creator. He raised an entire species, and compared to Life, he does not find amusement in enslaving his children, but knows he has to earn it. He does so every second, every minute, every hour, every day, and will keep doing so for the rest of his eternal life.
If you were to describe the relationship between Life and Death, three words ought to come to mind; hatred, resentment, and rejection. Yes, it is true that the two's relationship oozed with hatred and resentment, one side not wanting anything to do with the other - but perhaps it is not the other way around. Perhaps all the hatred, all the resentment and all this pain is one-sided. Perhaps it is only one side responsible for rejection, and only one side who feels this way. Maybe, just maybe, one side is so different from the other, that everything has been misunderstood.
Perhaps, there is hope... but we are all too blinded to see it.
"My King, a figure was spotted entering Hell," the voice of an elegant, petite girl reached a monster's ears. He turned his head to gaze down at the small creature who had approached down the long carpet, through the eyes of a beast. A rumble erupted from its throat as it gazed down, taking in this girl's features. Long, pink hair fell down her shoulder and back, standing out against her bright, green eyes and smooth, porcelain skin. She was overly thin, as if starved, and wore a torn, bloody dress. Despite the scars that littered her face and body, she had a content smile on her face, however her eyes dead cold. Oh, you see..this girl wasn't actually smiling. It seemed so, only because someone had carved the smile into her face with a knife, just before she died.
She gazed up at the creature before her, her King, sitting upon his grand throne, with slight fear in her eyes. Before her, he sat, his red color endearing and his form huge. He towered over her greatly, and the way his yellow eyes studied her would make any creature - living or dead - tremble. The magnificent dragon blinked his eyes, before puffing out smoke through his nostrils. "And who may this figure be? I doubt any creature in their sane mind would consider entering this domain without my consent," he spoke, his voice loud, clear, demanding, and most of all charming.
A true seducer, a true charmer, and a true danger. He could take what you most cared for in life in the blink of an eye, while you would be too busy gazing into his eyes and falling for his dazzling to smile to stop him - or even notice.
"W-Well... Some of the demons say they saw a unicorn, but I-" She was cut off as the King growled loudly, the beast furious. "A unicorn?!" he roared, before he spread his wings. The roof of the grand room, the throne room, opened up, and the beast took to the sky. [ OMG THAT REFERENCE ] He roared as he took in the sight of his broken kingdom, before sensing a magical aura, unlike anything else in his realm. It was too clean, too pure, too strong to belong. And he knew exactly what it was..
Landing on the ground, the creature shifted to what you could call his more "human-friendly" appearance, where he looked like a human. Normally he only used this form when leaving his realm to go to another, so few in Hell but those who knew what they ought to recognized him. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the scent of that aura, and soon enough, there he was - a feet away. He narrowed his eyes and a smirk appeared on his face as he gazed at the unicorn.
"Well hello there, My Lord. You here on a picnic?" he greeted darkly, mocking him, before snapping his fingers. The two appeared in an empty room, and the devil grinned as he strutted around the rare horse. "Or perhaps, you're here for a little visit, yes?" He added. He waved his hand, forcing the other to shift to his weaker, human form. His eyes glowed red as he approached Life, a wild look in his crimson eyes. "Then again, I would of thought that you would invite me.." he said, his voice dark, compelling and enchanting as he grinned.
@Krampus
Krampus
Santa's Shadow
(I feel like my posts are hard to reply to ;~ 
The loud roar was heard from where he was. The beautiful animal halted, legs stiffening. And then he saw the red dragon approaching, and the unicorn had to hold back from smiling. At first, every time he laid eyes on Death, the sight of him sent chills through his body. When the monster landed, the magnificent horned horse fidgeted a little, momentarily coming out of his tiny take.
Souls that the savior had collected looked up at him like scared puppies. Unicorn horn glowing with energy, he ripped open a forced portal back into his home realm. The hundred souls began pooling through, climbing over each other to get into the more loving realm. Just as the last one stepped through, and thanked Life, a visitor made his appearance. That handsome devil known most commonly as Death. His head tossed to close the portal just as he could feel his presence being ripped away. The hundred souls were safe in Heaven just as its King was taken from his spot.
And within the second, they were in an empty room. Turning his white-maned head, the warm creator watched the satanic destroyer as he circled, in his human form. Now, Life had the chance to look over the human devil. Mmm... how good-looking he was, no matter what form he took. If only the praise would be returned to the unicorn, who was forced into his human form.
"I can't say that I am, Antichrist," he answered Death's first question "But I will admit I did come for a visit of sorts, as you saw with your justice-blind eyes. No trip that I take here would ever involve you, unfortunately. I hear from your dirty worshipers in the mortal realm that you'd make quite the company." Oh yes, if only the negative being took time to spend time around Life. Sadly, that seemingly would never come true, even with the occasional praise Death was given by the more so submissive deity. How foolish Life could be sometimes.
"What of myself interests you so much to pull me aside, hm?" he then asked simply. Or had this been the only time the cold being had ever caught his rival in his little thievery act? Surely not, as it had been like any other trip he'd made into Hell to retrieve souls. It was then that the smaller male spoke"And perhaps you can cut the meeting short. I think we can both agree, that my presence here is rather unwanted." He meant specifically by Death. Yet this time, "First Guard" was unsure. How odd it was for his superior in displayed power to finally pull him aside after all the previous thievings. Did he want to fight? No... why there, in what was assumed to be the other god's home.
The nicer aura focused on the grin of the darker one, his voice that commanded heads to turn, finding much attractiveness in every bit. Such a shame they were always butting heads. Never once could Life remember a time he shared an actual moment of peace with Death. The current moment didn't count, as the feeling to butt heads was probably swimming around inside both of them, more so Death.
Still, the one-sided admiration continues as the technically captured male looked into the crimson eyes looking at him so intensely. So tempting it was, to submit to the darker figure, but that would have to wait another long while still. He would need to take his leave very soon. For once, he wasn't tempted to stick around. Past experiences and meets with the dominant male had ended in battles so massive that they had destroyed entire planets.
"Aside from that, I really have other places to be, away from you as you'd prefer, right?" He finished. Most of the time, Death wanted nothing to do with the brighter being, always opposing our avoiding him. Perhaps the nicer of the two should finally come to accept that his affections would never be returned. Maybe Life should move past his little phase, and go to openly opposing Death. That time needed to come eventually, unfortunately. For the light to challenge the dark, and restore order to the mortal realm. The only realm besides Hell that was so impure, so in need of helping. Hell's king would never allow that help to reach man so easily though.
Since the beginning, they'd been nose to nose, yet Death always took a win. How shameful it was, really. Still... he didn't like fighting, especially with someone he'd taken a fancy to. Just in general though, fighting wasn't on his favourites list. He'd much more prefer to do peaceful things. Like eat, be it alone or among friends. Or, write in his books. As Death didn't care for anyone but himself, it was up to Life to record the events of any and all, write them down to forever keep.
@Cookie Dough
The loud roar was heard from where he was. The beautiful animal halted, legs stiffening. And then he saw the red dragon approaching, and the unicorn had to hold back from smiling. At first, every time he laid eyes on Death, the sight of him sent chills through his body. When the monster landed, the magnificent horned horse fidgeted a little, momentarily coming out of his tiny take.
Souls that the savior had collected looked up at him like scared puppies. Unicorn horn glowing with energy, he ripped open a forced portal back into his home realm. The hundred souls began pooling through, climbing over each other to get into the more loving realm. Just as the last one stepped through, and thanked Life, a visitor made his appearance. That handsome devil known most commonly as Death. His head tossed to close the portal just as he could feel his presence being ripped away. The hundred souls were safe in Heaven just as its King was taken from his spot.
And within the second, they were in an empty room. Turning his white-maned head, the warm creator watched the satanic destroyer as he circled, in his human form. Now, Life had the chance to look over the human devil. Mmm... how good-looking he was, no matter what form he took. If only the praise would be returned to the unicorn, who was forced into his human form.
"I can't say that I am, Antichrist," he answered Death's first question "But I will admit I did come for a visit of sorts, as you saw with your justice-blind eyes. No trip that I take here would ever involve you, unfortunately. I hear from your dirty worshipers in the mortal realm that you'd make quite the company." Oh yes, if only the negative being took time to spend time around Life. Sadly, that seemingly would never come true, even with the occasional praise Death was given by the more so submissive deity. How foolish Life could be sometimes.
"What of myself interests you so much to pull me aside, hm?" he then asked simply. Or had this been the only time the cold being had ever caught his rival in his little thievery act? Surely not, as it had been like any other trip he'd made into Hell to retrieve souls. It was then that the smaller male spoke"And perhaps you can cut the meeting short. I think we can both agree, that my presence here is rather unwanted." He meant specifically by Death. Yet this time, "First Guard" was unsure. How odd it was for his superior in displayed power to finally pull him aside after all the previous thievings. Did he want to fight? No... why there, in what was assumed to be the other god's home.
The nicer aura focused on the grin of the darker one, his voice that commanded heads to turn, finding much attractiveness in every bit. Such a shame they were always butting heads. Never once could Life remember a time he shared an actual moment of peace with Death. The current moment didn't count, as the feeling to butt heads was probably swimming around inside both of them, more so Death.
Still, the one-sided admiration continues as the technically captured male looked into the crimson eyes looking at him so intensely. So tempting it was, to submit to the darker figure, but that would have to wait another long while still. He would need to take his leave very soon. For once, he wasn't tempted to stick around. Past experiences and meets with the dominant male had ended in battles so massive that they had destroyed entire planets.
"Aside from that, I really have other places to be, away from you as you'd prefer, right?" He finished. Most of the time, Death wanted nothing to do with the brighter being, always opposing our avoiding him. Perhaps the nicer of the two should finally come to accept that his affections would never be returned. Maybe Life should move past his little phase, and go to openly opposing Death. That time needed to come eventually, unfortunately. For the light to challenge the dark, and restore order to the mortal realm. The only realm besides Hell that was so impure, so in need of helping. Hell's king would never allow that help to reach man so easily though.
Since the beginning, they'd been nose to nose, yet Death always took a win. How shameful it was, really. Still... he didn't like fighting, especially with someone he'd taken a fancy to. Just in general though, fighting wasn't on his favourites list. He'd much more prefer to do peaceful things. Like eat, be it alone or among friends. Or, write in his books. As Death didn't care for anyone but himself, it was up to Life to record the events of any and all, write them down to forever keep.
@Cookie Dough
Last edited by a moderator:
Snowfeather
✨breedable ✨
[ Not at all! I've just gotten busy again since I am no longer sick. ^^ ]
Not even Death himself would be safe. His powers and superiority wouldn't matter, and he knew so. This of course didn't stop him from fantasizing about how he could kill Life in the most painful and satisfying ways. Whether it be dismembering him limb from limb, slitting his throat and watching him bleed out onto the floor - suffocating, or just plain and simple torturing him in the most creative of ways. He even thought about it now as he watched his human form try to make up excuses, almost as if buying time for himself.
In the end, he decided to speak up, too tired to let him go on. It was getting to his head, and he almost felt nauseous. He growled lowly at the last comment, furious at how disrespected he felt whenever this god chose to address him in such ways. Walking around him still, he stopped as he was in front of the other, before slowly walking closer, his red eyes burning with anger, power, and dominance as he glared at him. Once he was finally only a feet away from Life, he stopped, towering lightly over the smaller male.
"How dare you...disrespect me.." he hissed in a low, calm tone, laced with anger and hatred. He grabbed Life by his neck and pulled him closer, so he could speak right into his ear as he held him just a bit off the ground. If the deity were to set his toes down, he'd reach. "I am a God, I am Death..." he whispered, his lips brushing against the other's ear with how close they were. "And this is my realm...my kingdom..." he finally hissed.
With no word of warning, he threw the other across the room with his incredible strength, making the other slam into the wall. He followed after him, and grabbed him by his collar, slamming his fist into his face, again and again, watching the other bleed. Of course, this was how it was, and for once Death was in favor of it. For once, he saw to it that he would abuse this...newfound gift from the universe.
As it was, whenever a deity entered a realm not their own -excluding the human realm - their powers were no longer as powerful as they were in their own. Sure, they could still shift into their true forms and back whenever they pleased, however the visiting party turned more...mortal. Normally, the two can't bleed, nor get injured, however once out of their realm and into the other's, they were vulnerable to the other. So of course, Death took advantage of this, as he continued to punch his face, before finally dropping him.
"I suggest you clear your schedule, because you're not going anywhere.." Death said darkly, before knocking him out. After checking that the celestial God was unconscious, Alistair slowly reached out, picking him up in his arms and then holding him close as the room around them started to fade, before they were once more back in the castle. He carried him as he walked down the long halls, a stern look on his face. Whenever any of his staff looked their way, he sent a glare right back and therefore making them turn back to their own business, not taking the risk of angering the anti-Christ.
Even though the devil did not appreciate it, he knew it was necessary, and worth it in the long run. So of course, he had gotten himself a human name, one only those he knew in the human realm and those closest to him knew of - Life being an exception. He had chosen simple, and had ended up with Alistair White. He grew close to the name, and in the end he accepted his human name as a part of him. This doesn't mean he won't growl at any who utters it when he's not in the human realm.
At last reaching the final destination, Alistair entered a huge room, and from the looks of it, a bedroom. The furniture was vintage, yet classy all the same. He carried the deity over to the huge bed, gently laying him down and getting him in under the covers. He then sat next to him, staring down at the bloody, broken face of Life. He sighed, shaking his head, and as he passed his hand over Life's face, it all healed, and Life was back to normal. Death rose from his place and walked out, locking the door. Walking down the hall, he shook his head.
What had he gotten himself into...
@Krampus
Last edited by a moderator:
Krampus
Santa's Shadow
(Glad that you're feeling better! :3)
The inferior man looked at the aura of power before him. How foolish he was to find a pleasuring sensation spread throughout his figure. Death, destroyer with many other name, was angry. Angry with his words. As the negative being asserted his dominance and superiority over Life, the bright aura almost smiled.
"I'm a God too, creator of the Animated. I'm just better liked than you'll ever dream to be."
And then he was thrown. Life could only exhale for a moment before he hit the wall. He groaned, in pain as a horn of bone sprouted from his skull, top of his forehead, before his rival reached him. The three quarter foot bone lashed out just before Death's fist came, cutting his arm before being stopped by the force of the punch. Unfortunately, no other chance came to use the slender weapon, which crumbled after the third punch, falling to dust and becoming powder on his bloody face.
As punch after punch came, all the smaller male could do was let the gaping hole in his skull heal up, before his attacker decided to scoop out his brain or something. Skull healing over, followed by skin and hair, the process finished. Normally, this wouldn't have spilled blood, as it was an ability of his, but he was weak in Hell, and so blood from his skull had added to that Death drew from him. Jerk.
Finally was the attack to cease, and the weakened deity coughed a few times after hitting the ground. And then, a promise that he was to go nowhere was made. The beaten being said nothing in turn, not even getting the chance if he wanted to respond. Vision going black, he wondered briefly if he'd ever open his eyes again.
He did though. Barely. Eyes barely opening a short while later. Known to humans as "Harry", the human-form God ached all over. His upper jaw, nasal area, cheek bones and forehead hurt the most, basically his entire face, as those areas had shifted and offered bone to protect their host for a moment. And the punching after? With little bone to protect him? Pathetic thing actually whined a little bit, a soft cry of distress. Harry didn't care if he looked weak in front of Death, Alistair. His face fucking hurt. His skull was so brittle at the moment, bone still needing to regenerate. And the brittle layer was badly broken, from the attack Harry had received. Life's face was badly deformed.
To feel pain like a mortal sucked big time. Harry wanted to curl up in a corner and cry. All he had to curl into was his captor though, so that wasn't going to happen. His back, still sore from hitting the wall, protested for a second as he was laid into a bed, yet Harry's body quickly felt relief at the soft surface. However, he flinched when Alistair sat down. Harry was tempted to see if the covers would hide him. However, the thought disappeared when Death's hand passed over his face. The feel of energy, something to latch onto. Harry involuntarily let his aura snatch and grab at Alistair's, taking more to go further than mending his bruised and bleeding flesh. It went deeper to touch his brittle bones, thickening them back to regular amount, repairing his skull aside from his punch wounds. To simplify, Harry took way more energy to heal than Alistair probably even wanted to consider offering.
"Sorry..." Harry muttered softly, still weakly as he turned away from his enemy-turned-help, to curl up into the covers more. Death was already leaving though, locking the door behind him. His enemy for every lifetime before this, just helped him after being the shit out of him. Death, who usually seemed to always want to kill the God of Life, healed the wounds he himself caused pretty much. How confusing this was to Harry. Alistair hated him. Why care for him? Perhaps he was going to come back and beat him again. He just whimpered at the thought, turning onto his back, ignoring the ache. Anything besides putting his face against anything. His face and most of the bone was restored, but a few cracks still needed to heal, slower than the rest of his skull. Ugh. He hated pain. He felt bad for the mortals, Alistair granting them such unfortunate fates upon getting cut, beat, or any other action that rewarded with wounds.
Maybe his eternal rival would answer a question or two when he returned, before he beat Harry again. Life brought more of the covers to him, as if they would protect him. He sighed softly before closing his eyes, the right socket having a crack that needed to mend still. Like any other mortal, he slipped into sleep, where his dreams would hopefully make him feel better. Even if it was only a little bit, before Alistair returned to do who knew what. Surely this resting time was only so he'd be closer to prime torture condition.
Harry, even though he constantly wanted Death's affections, knew better than to expect the satanic male to actually care about him. As said before, it was time for Harry to move past this foolish feeling he had for Alistair. One last sigh escaped him before he went fully unconscious again, into sleep.
@Cookie Dough
The inferior man looked at the aura of power before him. How foolish he was to find a pleasuring sensation spread throughout his figure. Death, destroyer with many other name, was angry. Angry with his words. As the negative being asserted his dominance and superiority over Life, the bright aura almost smiled.
"I'm a God too, creator of the Animated. I'm just better liked than you'll ever dream to be."
And then he was thrown. Life could only exhale for a moment before he hit the wall. He groaned, in pain as a horn of bone sprouted from his skull, top of his forehead, before his rival reached him. The three quarter foot bone lashed out just before Death's fist came, cutting his arm before being stopped by the force of the punch. Unfortunately, no other chance came to use the slender weapon, which crumbled after the third punch, falling to dust and becoming powder on his bloody face.
As punch after punch came, all the smaller male could do was let the gaping hole in his skull heal up, before his attacker decided to scoop out his brain or something. Skull healing over, followed by skin and hair, the process finished. Normally, this wouldn't have spilled blood, as it was an ability of his, but he was weak in Hell, and so blood from his skull had added to that Death drew from him. Jerk.
Finally was the attack to cease, and the weakened deity coughed a few times after hitting the ground. And then, a promise that he was to go nowhere was made. The beaten being said nothing in turn, not even getting the chance if he wanted to respond. Vision going black, he wondered briefly if he'd ever open his eyes again.
He did though. Barely. Eyes barely opening a short while later. Known to humans as "Harry", the human-form God ached all over. His upper jaw, nasal area, cheek bones and forehead hurt the most, basically his entire face, as those areas had shifted and offered bone to protect their host for a moment. And the punching after? With little bone to protect him? Pathetic thing actually whined a little bit, a soft cry of distress. Harry didn't care if he looked weak in front of Death, Alistair. His face fucking hurt. His skull was so brittle at the moment, bone still needing to regenerate. And the brittle layer was badly broken, from the attack Harry had received. Life's face was badly deformed.
To feel pain like a mortal sucked big time. Harry wanted to curl up in a corner and cry. All he had to curl into was his captor though, so that wasn't going to happen. His back, still sore from hitting the wall, protested for a second as he was laid into a bed, yet Harry's body quickly felt relief at the soft surface. However, he flinched when Alistair sat down. Harry was tempted to see if the covers would hide him. However, the thought disappeared when Death's hand passed over his face. The feel of energy, something to latch onto. Harry involuntarily let his aura snatch and grab at Alistair's, taking more to go further than mending his bruised and bleeding flesh. It went deeper to touch his brittle bones, thickening them back to regular amount, repairing his skull aside from his punch wounds. To simplify, Harry took way more energy to heal than Alistair probably even wanted to consider offering.
"Sorry..." Harry muttered softly, still weakly as he turned away from his enemy-turned-help, to curl up into the covers more. Death was already leaving though, locking the door behind him. His enemy for every lifetime before this, just helped him after being the shit out of him. Death, who usually seemed to always want to kill the God of Life, healed the wounds he himself caused pretty much. How confusing this was to Harry. Alistair hated him. Why care for him? Perhaps he was going to come back and beat him again. He just whimpered at the thought, turning onto his back, ignoring the ache. Anything besides putting his face against anything. His face and most of the bone was restored, but a few cracks still needed to heal, slower than the rest of his skull. Ugh. He hated pain. He felt bad for the mortals, Alistair granting them such unfortunate fates upon getting cut, beat, or any other action that rewarded with wounds.
Maybe his eternal rival would answer a question or two when he returned, before he beat Harry again. Life brought more of the covers to him, as if they would protect him. He sighed softly before closing his eyes, the right socket having a crack that needed to mend still. Like any other mortal, he slipped into sleep, where his dreams would hopefully make him feel better. Even if it was only a little bit, before Alistair returned to do who knew what. Surely this resting time was only so he'd be closer to prime torture condition.
Harry, even though he constantly wanted Death's affections, knew better than to expect the satanic male to actually care about him. As said before, it was time for Harry to move past this foolish feeling he had for Alistair. One last sigh escaped him before he went fully unconscious again, into sleep.
@Cookie Dough
Last edited by a moderator:
Krampus
Santa's Shadow
(*lurks* X3)
Krampus
Santa's Shadow
@Cookie Dough Are we still rping? I see it says you won't be replying in your status thingy x3 But my reply was on the 2nd, and I've been waiting since then, way before that status update came. It's okay if you don't want to rp anymore though. I just want an answer either way because I feel like I did something wrong, which is why you haven't replied ;~;
Last edited by a moderator:
Snowfeather
✨breedable ✨
[ Thank you! Also I am so sorry for not replying! Not only have I not been able to reply to threads lately because my WiFi has been limited and I have been without a computer, but I've been super busy! I promise replies won't be this slow all the time - this was all a one-time thing! Again, I am so, so sorry, I didn't mean to keep you waiting. ]
Sure, he was Death, the destroyer; the monster. This didn't mean that he enjoyed striking fear into every living soul, for even such a...man...like himself, needed company. He - alike most others - did not appreciate the loneliness, nor did he find any comfort in being alone. It only brought back memories, once he wish he never had. They contained events, of which Alistair wished had never taken place.
Walking past a painting, the man glanced up at the filled canvas, the corner of his lips twitching upwards for just a moment. The picture was of a beautiful woman, with long, golden hair and bright, green eyes. Her skin was painted a fair, light shade, and her pretty lips a deep, rose red. She looked the role of the ideal woman, elegant and astonishingly beautiful. Any mortal man would have swooned at the sight of this fine painting, and the thought of them seeing this woman in person....
This woman, Amice Bennett, had been no ordinary human, for she had been the lovechild of a maiden with the name of Sauna, and a young man called Alistair White. You might be wondering: why Death would do such a thing, create life? Even then, was it a mistake, was it not on purpose? That would be the most logical explanation, wouldn't it? Well, how about this then. Why hadn't he covered his tracks, made up for his mistake, taken care of it? Why hadn't he done what he was most known of, to slay?
The answer is complicated indeed, yet oh so simple. Alistair had tried many times. He had been there to see the birth of his child, and had been ready to kill both the mother and the little girl. However as soon as he heard the cries of life, he fell in love. He held her for hours, just held her. And he knew that he would never be able to kill such beauty.. Of course, this wouldn't stop him from trying again. In fact, every year, on the anniversary of her birth, Amice's father would return to her, with the same goal at hand: to end her life. And every year, he would fail.
The more he visited her, the more he fell in love. However, it would soon come to a tragic end. Just hours before Alistair would once more come and visit his daughter, bandits robbed their town. They raped all women, including 18-year old Amice and dear Sauna. When Death finally arrived at the scene, they were gone. The village was burned to the ground, and all who were left had been burned with it. It was then that He decided to never love again, for his heart was broken beyond repair. The pieces all laid in his chest, scattered and lost as they couldn't find their way back together.
Still they lay there, shaping him more than anyone could possibly imagine.
Shaking out of his trance, he shook his head and continued down the hall, a hand over his broken heart. He rubbed the spot as it ached, and he tensed more. As he walked into the throne room he screamed out in pain - knowing none of his servants would hear him. He sank to the floor, clutching his head in his hands as he panted heavily. He closed his eyes as he calmed himself. He gazed up at the ceiling, already repaired thanks to black magic. He slowly rose to his feet and walked over to the throne, where he sat.
@Krampus
Last edited by a moderator:
Krampus
Santa's Shadow
<p>
(No need to apologize. Now that I know why you weren't around, it's okay x3)
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Eyes forcing themselves open, he squinted just a bit. Harry was sensitive to auras, and picked up the dulling, the saddening, of the largest one. Tilting his head, he frowned for a moment. It had been a while since he'd sensed Alistair's aura like this. Surprisingly, Harry new exactly why. The oncoming slaughter-by-burning, which included Alistair's first family, was watched by himself. Life literally just sat there and did nothing as he watched from afar. Harry usually never interfered with the actions of mortals directly though, even though he could, so there was nothing he could do. All he was able to do was take the innocent souls into his realm, and let them live peacefully in their wrongful death.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Even though he could've done something, he decided Death needed a slap to the face. How dare he try to bring forth something Harry made? After making most of man so corrupt? Oh yes, beautiful Amice was one of Harry's prefect ones. Life helped it to be so as she was being formed in Sauna's belly. Plus, Alistair was a deity. Of course his children were to be good-looking. Any child of a deity would, unless Harry directly changed that. Sauna never would've even become pregnant with Amice if Harry didn't allow it, as birthing was life, therefore his domain.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Yes, Alistair technically created "life" when he made demons, but that was entirely different then life of humans, which were Harry's creations. Life did indeed make such a child that no one could ever hate, even Death. He took an interest in the child because of her daddy. Who would've thought Death would fall fate to charm, and have a child with someone? This was before Life has found attraction in his rival. After 18 years of keeping Alistair's dear mate and spawn protected in a way, he finally stepped back to allow evil and vile beings get to them. Besides, Alistair got what he wanted, yes? His daughter's death, and the death of the filly's mother.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Harry was gone though, before Alistair was able to sense his presence at the scene. What was done was done though, so it went down in history. Harry had never been granted the horror of dying family. By blood, anyway, because he wasn't attracted to females, and couldn't have kids. Death of family through mental bonds though, he'd gone through. The slaughter of three of his Archangels was an absolute tragedy. Never had he gone through what Death had though. Death of blood family was different. He felt almost... bad, for not attempting to aid. Still, you weren't supposed to help your rivals, right? Weren't supposed to do anything to keep them happy. You were supposed to strike at them, or what made them happy.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
And that's what Harry eventually did in his own way. Like raising a pig for slaughter, he allowed Amice to grow, unharmed, before a gruesome death, even damning the mother to death. Still, he took them into Heaven, because they were as innocent as new fallen snow. Never did a thing to deserve their death, but eventually all mortals had to die, because Alistair intruded upon Harry's creations. In a way, Harry saw their death as punishment for Alistair. Oh yes, Harry had his dark side. Perhaps it was because he took the darkness and corruption from the dead in Heaven into himself after they died. That, and light couldn't exist without dark. And dark couldn't exist without light.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Merely shaking his head, he ran a hand softly through his hair, wincing a bit from the still mending skull. Deciding to try something, he weakly waved his hand. Hell was once again intruded upon, as a healthy sized book appeared in his lap. Just a brown cover, no letters for a title. It gave off a constantly changing aura though. Warm, cold, agitated, even dormant at some times. This book was very special, and Harry was surprised that it got to Hell on its own. And yes, the book was actually alive. It wouldn't be able to hold the events of everything since the beginning of time if it wasn't.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Any who beheld the words inside, written by Life, would see the event it spoke about through vision. Every birth, death, walk, war, talk, slap. Even when souls went to Heaven, Hell, or Limbo. If it happened, it would eventually get to this book. Harry wrote it all down. The book, which preferred the name "Bayard", allowed itself to be opened, and Life beheld its pages. And then, Harry snapped his fingers. Appearing by Bayard the Book, was a quill. A quill that liked to be named after Qaphsiel. Like Bayard, Qaphsiel was alive. The writing tool that would always be able to write. If you harmed them, they would bleed. Scratch, rip or tear them, they would bleed.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Bayard and Qaphsiel were the only other beings that would "live" forever besides Life and Death. Bayard and Qaphsiel both could not talk, but they could think and feel emotion, and communicated through many ways besides words and thought, as their thoughts couldn't be heard by any others but themselves. Harry created them both. Bayard the Book had pages made of special paper, enchanted to hold any and all, and its cover was made of brown dirt and brown dragon hide. Qaphsiel the Quill was made of an angel feather, later the feather changing to be one of Uriel's, and its ink was made of Harry's blood and Alistair's. How Harry got Alistair's blood would remain a mystery.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Harry recalled the events that just happened, as well as tapping into the minds of his scouts that roamed the other realms, and began to write, taking Qaphsiel the Quill in his hand. After what seemed an hour, he set Qaphsiel down, and closed Bayard. Letting Qaphsiel settle in his lap, he simply told Bayard to go visit Alistair. The book twitched, gaining an annoyed aura. Harry glared, and Bayard the Book stopped twitching. Within a blink, it was gone. The brown, healthy-looking book appeared in the throne room.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Bayard plopped itself down on the ground about ten feet away from Alistair's throne. The book wasn't afraid, actually still having an annoyed air about it. Why Harry sent it was foreign to Bayard. Even though the obvious reason was so Death could behold its pages. It would be the first time Alistair even saw Bayard, as Harry never even let him put a finger on it. Memory was vision, which all who read Bayard the Book would experience. Harry almost smiled at the thought. Bayard was the most terrible book to read, because it held every bad event as well as good, in prefect detail. Even everything that happened to himself and Death.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
So Bayard waited, its upside cover flapping a few times. Harry waited, weakly feeling both auras. Who knew how Alistair would react to reading Bayard. Perhaps it was a bad idea, not letting Alistair get used to the book. After all, Bayard held in its pages the story Alistair replayed in his mind. Yet, it also held many "good" memories of young Amice and dear Sauna. Wise idea or not to let Death gaze upon the ever-going book perhaps didn't matter, but maybe it also did. Oh well though. Couldn't do anything about it now.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<a contenteditable="false" data-ipshover="" data-ipshover-target="<___base_url___>/profile/11750-cookie-dough/?do=hovercard" data-mentionid="11750" href="<___base_url___>/profile/11750-cookie-dough/" rel="">@Cookie Dough</a>
</p>
(No need to apologize. Now that I know why you weren't around, it's okay x3)
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Eyes forcing themselves open, he squinted just a bit. Harry was sensitive to auras, and picked up the dulling, the saddening, of the largest one. Tilting his head, he frowned for a moment. It had been a while since he'd sensed Alistair's aura like this. Surprisingly, Harry new exactly why. The oncoming slaughter-by-burning, which included Alistair's first family, was watched by himself. Life literally just sat there and did nothing as he watched from afar. Harry usually never interfered with the actions of mortals directly though, even though he could, so there was nothing he could do. All he was able to do was take the innocent souls into his realm, and let them live peacefully in their wrongful death.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Even though he could've done something, he decided Death needed a slap to the face. How dare he try to bring forth something Harry made? After making most of man so corrupt? Oh yes, beautiful Amice was one of Harry's prefect ones. Life helped it to be so as she was being formed in Sauna's belly. Plus, Alistair was a deity. Of course his children were to be good-looking. Any child of a deity would, unless Harry directly changed that. Sauna never would've even become pregnant with Amice if Harry didn't allow it, as birthing was life, therefore his domain.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Yes, Alistair technically created "life" when he made demons, but that was entirely different then life of humans, which were Harry's creations. Life did indeed make such a child that no one could ever hate, even Death. He took an interest in the child because of her daddy. Who would've thought Death would fall fate to charm, and have a child with someone? This was before Life has found attraction in his rival. After 18 years of keeping Alistair's dear mate and spawn protected in a way, he finally stepped back to allow evil and vile beings get to them. Besides, Alistair got what he wanted, yes? His daughter's death, and the death of the filly's mother.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Harry was gone though, before Alistair was able to sense his presence at the scene. What was done was done though, so it went down in history. Harry had never been granted the horror of dying family. By blood, anyway, because he wasn't attracted to females, and couldn't have kids. Death of family through mental bonds though, he'd gone through. The slaughter of three of his Archangels was an absolute tragedy. Never had he gone through what Death had though. Death of blood family was different. He felt almost... bad, for not attempting to aid. Still, you weren't supposed to help your rivals, right? Weren't supposed to do anything to keep them happy. You were supposed to strike at them, or what made them happy.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
And that's what Harry eventually did in his own way. Like raising a pig for slaughter, he allowed Amice to grow, unharmed, before a gruesome death, even damning the mother to death. Still, he took them into Heaven, because they were as innocent as new fallen snow. Never did a thing to deserve their death, but eventually all mortals had to die, because Alistair intruded upon Harry's creations. In a way, Harry saw their death as punishment for Alistair. Oh yes, Harry had his dark side. Perhaps it was because he took the darkness and corruption from the dead in Heaven into himself after they died. That, and light couldn't exist without dark. And dark couldn't exist without light.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Merely shaking his head, he ran a hand softly through his hair, wincing a bit from the still mending skull. Deciding to try something, he weakly waved his hand. Hell was once again intruded upon, as a healthy sized book appeared in his lap. Just a brown cover, no letters for a title. It gave off a constantly changing aura though. Warm, cold, agitated, even dormant at some times. This book was very special, and Harry was surprised that it got to Hell on its own. And yes, the book was actually alive. It wouldn't be able to hold the events of everything since the beginning of time if it wasn't.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Any who beheld the words inside, written by Life, would see the event it spoke about through vision. Every birth, death, walk, war, talk, slap. Even when souls went to Heaven, Hell, or Limbo. If it happened, it would eventually get to this book. Harry wrote it all down. The book, which preferred the name "Bayard", allowed itself to be opened, and Life beheld its pages. And then, Harry snapped his fingers. Appearing by Bayard the Book, was a quill. A quill that liked to be named after Qaphsiel. Like Bayard, Qaphsiel was alive. The writing tool that would always be able to write. If you harmed them, they would bleed. Scratch, rip or tear them, they would bleed.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Bayard and Qaphsiel were the only other beings that would "live" forever besides Life and Death. Bayard and Qaphsiel both could not talk, but they could think and feel emotion, and communicated through many ways besides words and thought, as their thoughts couldn't be heard by any others but themselves. Harry created them both. Bayard the Book had pages made of special paper, enchanted to hold any and all, and its cover was made of brown dirt and brown dragon hide. Qaphsiel the Quill was made of an angel feather, later the feather changing to be one of Uriel's, and its ink was made of Harry's blood and Alistair's. How Harry got Alistair's blood would remain a mystery.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Harry recalled the events that just happened, as well as tapping into the minds of his scouts that roamed the other realms, and began to write, taking Qaphsiel the Quill in his hand. After what seemed an hour, he set Qaphsiel down, and closed Bayard. Letting Qaphsiel settle in his lap, he simply told Bayard to go visit Alistair. The book twitched, gaining an annoyed aura. Harry glared, and Bayard the Book stopped twitching. Within a blink, it was gone. The brown, healthy-looking book appeared in the throne room.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
Bayard plopped itself down on the ground about ten feet away from Alistair's throne. The book wasn't afraid, actually still having an annoyed air about it. Why Harry sent it was foreign to Bayard. Even though the obvious reason was so Death could behold its pages. It would be the first time Alistair even saw Bayard, as Harry never even let him put a finger on it. Memory was vision, which all who read Bayard the Book would experience. Harry almost smiled at the thought. Bayard was the most terrible book to read, because it held every bad event as well as good, in prefect detail. Even everything that happened to himself and Death.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
So Bayard waited, its upside cover flapping a few times. Harry waited, weakly feeling both auras. Who knew how Alistair would react to reading Bayard. Perhaps it was a bad idea, not letting Alistair get used to the book. After all, Bayard held in its pages the story Alistair replayed in his mind. Yet, it also held many "good" memories of young Amice and dear Sauna. Wise idea or not to let Death gaze upon the ever-going book perhaps didn't matter, but maybe it also did. Oh well though. Couldn't do anything about it now.
</p>
<p>
</p>
<p>
<a contenteditable="false" data-ipshover="" data-ipshover-target="<___base_url___>/profile/11750-cookie-dough/?do=hovercard" data-mentionid="11750" href="<___base_url___>/profile/11750-cookie-dough/" rel="">@Cookie Dough</a>
</p>
Last edited by a moderator:
Krampus
Santa's Shadow
@Cookie Dough (These posts ;_; They just packed them all together...)
Krampus
Santa's Shadow
Users who are viewing this thread
Similar threads
