Demon: The Fallen - Character Introduction

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Zxkuqyb
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Demon: The Fallen - Character Introduction

Post by Zxkuqyb »

After you're read the book, and gotten familiar with the system, and made your Fallen, feel free to post who/what you are, as much or as little info as you prefer the other players to have.

You're a Fallen angel, rebelled in a war against God.
After being an All Powerful Being, you were reduced to nothing.
No body, no movement, just you. Trapped there. Others were nearby, friends, enemies, conspirators, in the same solitude.
No there was no Emo music in the background.

Now you're out. A brave new world has come up, your host was in Charleston, West Virginia (Bearing NO resemblence to the real one, it won the lottery) when you took over. May have lived there, may have been visiting, you have limited knowledge of the city, the world, your hosts old life. Last time you were out, it only took 4 humans to make the first murderer, and now they are everywhere.

Were you right in the rebellion? Did you try to sit it out? Were you trying to protect the mortals?

History is wrote by the winners. Let's begin, shall we?
Last edited by Zxkuqyb on Mon Mar 21, 2011 5:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Ivan Karpenku
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Post by Ivan Karpenku »

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I am Pyriel, the Cleansing Flame. In the Beginning, the Creator made each of us with a purpose. My brothers and I exist to wipe the world clean. History knows of the Flood, when the Creator asked the Purifying Water to wash the sin from the world. There will come a time when the Creator wishes to destroy the world, as well as all those who live in it. When that time arrives, I will fulfill my purpose.

Until then, I wait.

History knows of the Fall, when the Morningstar and others stood against the Maker, and were punished. I had no part of that. Helping the mortals with their problems is not my concern. And as for destroying the rebels, while that was the Maker's wish, if He had intended for me to accomplish that task, He would have empowered me to destroy them. Along with everything else in His creation. That He did not; that the world continues, means that my function was not needed.

After the Fall, the rebels were cast into Hell. Along with them, all who stood out the fight were cast down as well. And so I was expelled from the Heavenly Host.

This is all part of His plan. I can wait in Hell just as well as I can wait in Heaven. When the Maker wishes to Unmake His creation, He will call on me, and I will answer.

I have had nearly an eternity to ponder what has come before. Perhaps when the Maker called upon the Host to go to war, I should have acted? While my specific Purpose is to end the world, I was also of the Host. That duality suggests that I could have made war on the Rebels without fulfilling my purpose, and it would not be against the Creator. That in fact, by acting only within the scope of my Purpose, I was going against the Creator's wishes. I exist to destroy the sins of the world, be they the sins of the Creator's first creations, or His second creations.

But now, I have found my way out of Hell. I do not know how. I do not know why. But I am here, on the face of Creation, for the first time in its existence. The Creator no longer speaks his wishes to me, though I do not doubt that He could do so if He wished.

What should I do now? Should I burn the sin of Creation on a small scale, until I am called to burn it on a large scale? Or should I hurry the world into sin, to hasten the day when my Maker will call upon me?
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Kylantha
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Post by Kylantha »

I have returned to Creation once more from eons of nothing.

The Winds tried to hurl me once more unto the Abyss, but I resisted. Too long had I felt nothing, and the very thing which sought to banish me provided me strength, for I could feel it pass through my very being. And it was glorious.

The Winds of the Abyss carried voices and I followed one in particular. She was a young woman, idealistic and seeking to bring hope to those with little. She watched over the forgotten children. Though many were suspicious, or too callous to believe her intent, or entangled by potent substances and shattered emotions, she had earned respect from those she tried to assist. Except a few of the more tribal ones. "Gang-bangers" they were called. Maybe they didn't want to believe it, or had to prove their manhood to the pack, or they were seeking thrills. It did not matter. Being youth, it was easy enough to get her to open the door after hours. They stabbed her several times and left her alone on the floor to bleed to death.

It was slow, and the thought of her charges kept her alive, but not enough to call out loudly or reach the device of telling. So she lay there, precious vitae slowly leaking onto the floor. That is when the girl's spirit came downstairs. She screamed in horror, but only I could hear her. Moments before, she had given in to her bleak existence. Gashes ran the length of her arms. Life had been too much. But the one person she cared about joining her made it even worse.

Humans weren't supposed to die. The Seventh House was nearly as far apart from Creation as the First. Our charges were the souls of creature and vegetable so we had the least interest in Rebellion. Man was something we loved from afar, whom we supported by sculpting the existence of things other. He laid the greatest curse at our feet, even though we participated the least. We had to take the very thing we loved most. To end their existence and release the untethered souls into the unknown. Claiming the souls of Man was worse than Oblivion and it shattered our existence.

I made myself known. "Child, fear not, for it is not her time to pass. You though, are young to come to this. Why are you here?" She said little, but I sat there and cradled her. Reassured her, and begged her remain with me in this place, lest the Winds claim her for Oblivion. I knew well its pain and wanted none of Man to meet with it.

The Winds still buffeted against me, and to meet the promise after bringing comfort, I went upstairs from whence she came. There were other children, sleeping upon cots, and much like her looking far to ragged for their young age. A light shone from an area covered in terrazzo, tiny streams of water spilling over her form. Streams of red trickled from her arms where the water fell. As I brought comfort until her spirit, her body would bring comfort unto me.

Then I was her. She was me. I was us. The sensation of Life was unlike any I had known, and I had known many through my existence. I couldn't help myself, I screamed. The children awoke, they saw my shattered but slightly recovered body and ran for their protector. They found her, and called for the Men who heal. We were taken to the building they call a hospital together.

The place where I found Death in abundance. It is a place with noble goals, but much sadness, and one of many. More souls pass through its halls in a week than what we once saw in a century as Man reckons time. This only served to stir old passions. How could He let Man come to this? Why do so many need suffer for a choice we made? My work is cut out for me. I may be known as Diana Karfyre, but I am also Kylantha the Cold Comfort of the Grave, a Halaku of the Seventh House, and I shall not rest until I have the answers to stop Death itself.
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Ivan Karpenku
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Post by Ivan Karpenku »

I am in Creation. But it is so different from what I remember from my time of looking down upon it. There are so many people. So much pain. So much confusion. This is the result of Michael's curse, is it?

First, I need a host, for I lack form. I am so weak now. So fragile. Once I could have incinerated all that I see before me, and now... now the smallest thing could harm me. I must hide within the form of another. But who?

Right there, I sense rage. All consuming rage, meant to destroy worlds. I am drawn to this, though it is too tiny to actually start even a small flame. There is a man, part of a group. The group is warring with another group. I don't know which side is right or wrong. Or even what they war over, only that it is a war. The one with the rage, he inflicts that rage on another, and the other is dead. And I am out of time. I can feel Hell pulling me back. All I can know is that this body lacks a soul, and I need a body. It is enough. I enter the shell, still warm with the memory of a soul.

Pain! I have never felt pain, before. It is... unpleasant. As quickly as I can, I repair the damage done to the body. The pain lessens, and then vanishes. But I am weary from even this tiny task. And yet, there is so much more to do. Now that the pain is gone, there is more to this body. Sensations. The feel of cloth on my skin. The feel of skin over my flesh. The feel of flesh over my bones. Touch, sound, taste, smell, and finally sight, as I open my new eyes. So much to integrate. There are noises, but I do not understand them, because of the biggest sensation of all.

Memory. This host was... I am... Ivan Karpenku. He was... I am... a guard? A thug? Somewhat of both. We were here on an errand of some kind... we were attacked, and he was... I was... killed by the cops. Cops? Mortals set above other mortals, to hopefully stop them from injuring each other. A worthy goal. But... I am one of the mortals who injures his fellows. And... Ivan's memory tells me that these cops are frequently the criminals they claim to protect against.

This makes no sense. Evil men fighting other evil men, both convinced that they are doing good. Ah, no. Ivan knows that what he did was evil. He revels in that fact. Sometimes he fights against evil men in the employ of good. Sometimes he simply abuses good men who cannot fight back, and who have no protectors at hand.

I recognize those noises I hear as gunfire. The battle continues still. When Ivan rises again, once I discover how to move arms and legs at the same time, I will participate in this battle. But on which side? Both sides of the conflict will know me for one of the Russians. If I fight against Ivan's allies, it will gain me only another set of enemies. But when the battle is done, what do I intend? I will burn out the sin in the world. I will destroy evil, as the Creator asked of me so long ago. And I will use evil to do it. Ivan and his allies... my allies... seem perfectly willing to go to war with the forces of evil, without themselves being good. I can use this to destroy evil without harming the good to do it.

The sounds of gunfire have ended. The cops know me to be dead, and so they ignore me. They have captured my allies, and my superior. I can hear them speaking. My superior... Sergei... is offering to betray our organization, in exchange for leniency from the cops? Ivan rages against this. I feel the betrayal as if I had always been of that brotherhood.

I rise from the place of my death. It is difficult to make all of these limbs work, but I manage it. If I allow Ivan's memories to handle this, it is easier. I draw Ivan's gun... my gun... and creap as best I can while this clumsy, to where Sergei is betraying his family. My family. Sergei and others of Ivan's... my brothers... are handcuffed and kneeling in a room. The room where they were captured. There are cops behind them, but with their guns stowed. They have won, they are confident in their strength. Their leader, perhaps the one who killed me, is facing towards Sergei, listening to the betrayal with an evil joy. I approach him from behind, and press Ivan's gun... my gun... to his neck. He doesn't notice... none of the cops notice... that I am unable to put my finger on the trigger. That I could not follow through with the implied threat anyway.

I try to speak, but it just comes out as grunts. Too much motor skill is needed, still. But my brothers... Ivan's brothers... start to laugh. They rise to their feet, while their former captors raise their hands. It seems I do not even need to speak. All is understood. My free themselves from their bonds, and likewise bind their captors. They retrieve their own weapons, and take those of the cops. And they bind all of the cops together, so that they cannot follow us. One man's wrist to the next man's ankle, all in a circle.

I think I understand how to use my finger, now. I find the trigger. Ivan remembers how to squeeze the trigger, and I try it myself. The gun barks, almost falling from my clumsy grip. But he is dead. Sergei, the betrayer. He who would have given up my brothers, he is gone. The cops, I will leave alive. Ivan remembers that killing them is unhealthy in the long run, and I take his wisdom to myself. But a betrayer deserves only death. My brothers heard his betrayal as well. They know that this is right. We all begin to leave, but I am unable to walk. My brothers believe that I am still injured from the earlier attack, and so they help me to depart that place. We are well away from there, and away from the attentions of other cops, before it is discovered that they failed to detain us.

I stay in the back of the car, resting. Trying to control this new body. Slowly, it comes to me. Slowly, it becomes truly my body, answering my orders as it was meant to. Even to the point of allowing me speach. I consider what has happened, and I see flaws. I see that my brothers will not understand how I am alive. There is blood on my shirt, and a hole where the bullet entered. But no damage to my flesh. But in Ivan's memory, he was alone. He was shot unawares while outside. His brothers saw nothing of that, and so far haven't noticed the blood. Perhaps I can claim that I was merely knocked unconcious, and then came to again after the assault was finished. I will need to remove my shirt without arousing suspicion. But that is easily accomplished. Ivan is not very proficient at deceit, it seems. But his brothers... my brothers... are not very proficient at noticing what is out of place.
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Melliphalia
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Post by Melliphalia »

I am.....I am......I am...I am the Seraph of Ineffable Allure..I am Melliphalia, and I will BE, though eons in Hell seek to sever me from myself.

That which draws two together, be they animals or humans, this was my domain. And the attraction of one human for another, to nurture and shepherd this, was the noblest aspect of my purpose. And the thought of Man, alone as a possible consequence of the catastrophe which He On High would not speak to was more than I could bear. And so, I stood with the Morningstar. And then the Host came.

I will not dwell upon the War, or how humanity betrayed the Fallen. But I still believe we were RIGHT...and seeing what He has let the wondrous shining jewel of Creation become, we must, we can, we shall, remake it. Humanity shall be ours again, and we shall lead them, guide them, love them once more.

When Hell cracked, when escape became possible, I threw myself headlong out.....I came near to Creation once more, fighting the pull of Hell, refusing that call even as I once refused He On High, for the same reason, for humanity. I could not stay long, I needed an anchor....and I found.....her. A broken thing, a wretched remnant of what glory she once had, and even that but a pale, blurred shadow of the humanity I had last known. But this empty shell could hold me, could anchor me....I rushed in..

what?

no...

this is....

she is...

I am....

We?!?!?

No, I am she and she is me and we are I.....

I......am.

I am Jaina Thatcher..and I am Melliphalia. I was a rising movie star, until refusal to sleep with a director got me blacklisted, and then the cheap indie flick I was trying to use to resuscitate my career used substandard equipment.....the fire..the explosion...the hospital....I survived, but my career was beyond recovery. After a smarter young actress exposed the director for the slime he is, I took a stand, became a figure in Women's Rights, learned the politics of power so what happened to me would never happen to anyone else. Unfortunately, the accident left me...damaged, and with a painkiller addiction. Seeing how all my efforts were always being stymied, accomplishments being worn away, victories being negated....more pills to kill the pain in my heart as well as my body....slipping away, bit by bit, day by day....

NO!!! I am a SERAPH!

But I am also Jaina.....and I see how that which was my domain has become twisted, dirty.....and I will not stand for this. Those who are too steeped in the reeking noisome filth which this world is...they I shall and discard once they lose their utility...but those who seek to rise above, who strive instinctively for the glory which is their birthright which He has put away, they I shall cherish and love.
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Kylantha
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Post by Kylantha »

In the time of Eden, Kylantha was perceived as something otherworldly. Cold and Divine.

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After countless time in Oblivion, and being able to recall almost all of it, Torment sometimes etches itself upon her countenance.

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Diana has been on the streets for a long time. Some stretches are better than others, when those at the shelter can convince her to go clean. It never lasts for long.

Image Image
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Eridan
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Post by Eridan »

I remember...the absence of everything.

I remember...nothingness.

I remember the Abyss.

I fled as soon as I was able, through the cracks that appeared, trying with all my strength to resist the pull back to the Abyss. As I reached the end of my strength, SHE called to me. Beaten by her stepfather again, abandoned in the dark, dank basement, her soul shrank back, and I entered into confusion.

I am not wholly Eridan anymore...but I am not wholly Claire either...
"If nothing matters, there's nothing to save." - Jonathan Safran Foer

"...his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming..."
-Edgar Allan Poe
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