[RP] Power Release

[Captain Squee]

The bowels of Hell roared and hissed like a thousand snakes feeding off eachother in a blistering hot desert. The flames rose up just to never fall, with no sky and no water, telling day from night was only possible if you could keep track with every minute of times you were within it's jaws. The blood pouring like a river of time from the countless tortures preformed by the lackeys of pain and destruction that call themselves the demons of hell, ruthlessly torturing every living, past, and sentient soul that their claws happened to touch upon. The screams of the damned echoing through the flames stones and bloody rivers piercing the very ears of those being tortured. Laughs from the torturers roaring across seemingly riding the screams like a human on a horse, only matching the intensity of the screams. Loud whispers roaring the floors, feeding the flames.

The demons that through time had always been torturing the sinned once stopped. Something had happened that shook even the darkest of shadows to a struggle. Flames calmed, blood stopped, screams quit, and laughs died. Something had happened this day. Created beings of Hell stopped and rose that day. 2 years later, the species dubbed Gamma had come into Hell to join in. Ever since this day, the screams and laughs of Hell had become quieter and much more serene, but still torturous. The beauty of life had come to the darkest area to ever have been created...Alpha...

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Fields of calm warmth and serene peace with gentle warm breezes and birds chirping beautifully. Sky's of endless blue with no limitations and water flowing tranquilly through the white stone fountains. People chattering softly amongst eachother in peace. Stone sidewalks and abundant trees with various fruit spanning forever, never running short of necessities for the simple folk. Angels flying high above the souls of the passed that were all as lively as children were watching over everyone to prevent any wrong doing among the beloved flock.

But then something horrific happened. When the two had passed on. Everything went quiet, not a bird to chirp, not a man to speak. Not even the wingbeat of a gentle angel in the sky. Everyone stopped moving. Something had changed. Everyone was struck with some sort of horror and fear. At the golden pearl gates of the land they loved stood a being of pure sin and corruption, born to kill. Heaven had become a tad darker in his presence...Omega

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For a long time now heaven and Hell have been at war with eachother, and the two weapons that they created had finally passed. The god of death know no matter what he would be dying from the end of this war that he had started, and so he chose to do something that no other god would ever dare to do. her personally intervened in the war to put the winning side to the favor of Omega, the destroyer of everything ever to have existed. With Omega in favor of winning, Death would still win, as Death was planning to die no matter what when he made the agreement to the triple goddess. To him this was a small gamble, all he really wanted was to kill everything.

But he was not as genius as he thought. He had forgotten that those two were not the only ones out there that had power beyond the gods. Most of all, he forgot about the guardian of purgatory, Ultima. His plan was all too flawed, but still may work in his advantage in the end.

As for the goddess of the heavens, the Triple Goddess, she stood in the heavens high above the rest of all life. She was worried. Would Alpha pull through for her? Diagoth, the Ultima, was not the best one to trust in here eyes, nobody really knew how he was created, none of the gods could have created him, and there was something about him. Something about him she just couldn't trust.

Heaven might be torn apart since Omega was now within it's gates. there was nothing that could be done though, he obeyed the rules of life and now has been allowed passed the gates. The only one she thought fit to stop Omega was Alpha, that of which was now residing in Hell. Could she make it in time to save Heaven from destruction? Or would the world fall tonight?

20 years later...the story begins...Corruption begins to unfold in the heart of Omega...

 

[King Sean]

He was walking down the street in broad daylight, smiling and waving at the people around him. He was talking a stroll down the road, looking for his next "victim". He was smiling, but in actuality, he was very pissed. His last "friend" got away, probably sensing Alexion's intentions. So he was walking in a facade, trying to find someone. Then he came.....

"Oh, excuse me? Do you know have the time?" Said the man

"It's 11:30. Are you trying to get somewhere in a hurry?" Said Alexion

"Yeah, it's work. I swear I just need a good reason and I will just call in sick...."

"How bout you just relax and take a walk in the park or just go back home and rest, unless you want me to reccomend something?"

"What could a teen reccomend?" said the man, laughing sofly

"Let me show you something fun, sir. Follow me!"

"I don't know why, but I guess I will"

The man followed Alexion in the opposite direction he came from, intent to kill emitting from him, unnoticed by the man.....

 

[Gaige]

Flames rose and crackled around her form, tall and powerful. The pungeent aroma of burning flesh reached Alpha's nostrils and she choked, the smell combined with the overwhelming stench of smoke making tears run down her face, and making her cough until she struggled to get air into her lungs.

"Omega," she whispered, looking at the rocky ceiling above.

Stalactites had formed on the ceiling, and dipping ever lower, like the many fingers of the ruler of this domain, they would soon be low enough to brush Alpha's head. One of the many tortures of this place was the necessity to stoop to avoid being impaled by these rocky spikes. It left most with an almost constantly aching back.

Screeches almost constantly rang through the halls and byways of hell. The demonic kind that you would never hear anywhere other than the bowels of Hell. But these were not human screams. These were demonic roars and bellows that echoed down this endless pit from morning until night.

Not that there was any sense of time in this place. Darkness and light did not break through the ceiling of hell. The flames were no weaker at one part of the day than another, and this made any telling of the time virtually impossible. It was simply eternal stasis in Hell. Just another form of torture.

The human screams were another.

Fate had been defied when Alpha had gone to Hell, and Omega Heaven. So Alpha had been spared the horrendous torture meant for Omega, her lover. However, the agonised screams of the dead troubled her almost constantly. She felt an empathy for these fallen souls that she could not simply switch off.

"Where are you?" she whispered.

 

[Exoskeleton]

Diagoth Reim gazed about the foggy foest as he walked on, a solemn thought in his heart. Mist rose thick in the woods as Diagtoh traveled throyugh the blackened trees towards the edge. He had thought quickly about the war. The war that would come and finish his home.

Purgatory was always cloudy, always damp and always gray. It had been all he had ever known and a place without war, without the troubles of heaven and hell. Yet it seemed like it was changing already. Diagoth emerged through the forest to a little clearing that stopped. He looked down at the cliff: the world of mortals could be seen below. Nothing but gray clouds stretched ahead. This was his spot to look down upon earth. Humans were intereting creatures and Diagoth had made a sort of habbit of watching them.

His lack of emotion made it hard for him to feel, yet somehow, humans could trigger their emotions freely, willingly. Diagoth sat at the edge ofhis worldof Purgatory and looked into the human world below. All he saw was sadness. Everything led to sadness for the poor humans. Diagoth pitied them and yet, he pitied himself even more. For they could feel moments of happiness and he could not.

He sat watching adult friejnds at a bar, switching from image to image in his head. He was most sure that nothing could console him, not even his favorite hobby...

 

[Testra]

Testra stood at his apartments window looking down on the people walking past on the street below, as they walked past he wished he could be like them again.

His mind and memory full of blanks and holes of times which he cannot remember.

One memory that had stuck with him since his death, the one that drives his emotions and keeps him sane. The memory of both his parents and how they had both been cruelly snatched away from him.

As he replayed the scenes he had encountered at both of his parents death's he became enraged and felt himself raging inside, to keep his emotions in check he poured himself a large whiskey and laid down on his sofa and turned on his stereo, but this time it didn't help him.

Testra felt himself changing as he always did when his true form broke through.

Testra sprinted out of his apartment and down the stairs out onto the street and into an alley. Once out of sight of the prying eyes of the public Testra let his wing unfurl and his true form be released, his veins pushed against his skin as he tensed his fists with the anger he was feeling at not having been able to do anything to stop his parent's deaths.

Feeling a surge of anger Testra beat his wing and took to the sky and headed for the one place he could let his true emotions out without risk of hurting an innocent by stander.

After an by flight Testra landed behind his fathers house, but when he opened the back door he found several people with hammers and other tools destroying the house from the inside out.

Now in his true form Testra's voice boomed out as he yelled "What do you think you are doing you assholes?".

The four men in the kitchen turned on the spot and looked round to see the black and crimson skinned creature standing in the doorway with two large bone blades in its hands.

"What the fuck are you?" One of the men yelped as he stared just like the other three men at Testra's true form.

"I'm your worst fucking nightmare that's whom I am" Testra spat back in disgust as he lunged forward and slashed at one of the men hammering them into the wall aswell as cutting deeply into the mans stomach.

"Shit get him" The biggest masked man yelped as he backed up and drew a gun from his bag on the side next to him.

The two other men lunged forward with the hammers they held and swung downwards at the bone blades shattering them into tiny shards. "Hmmm lets make this interesting" Testra smirked. As he starved the two men of oxygen using just the power of his air magic, the two mens bodies fell to the floor along with the cut open man dead. The biggest man cocked the gun and aimed for Testra's head. "Pull the trigger then." Testra spat as he just stood there in front of the man.

A sound of a gunshot rang out, "Missed me" Testra taunted as he plunged his fist through the mans back and out through his chest shattering his ribcage with the force. Wrenching his arm free Testra picked up the four men and threw them out the shattered kitchen window into the back garden, where he torched the bodies and any evidence of them even being there.

Leaving the smouldering remains of the four men Testra had unleashed his anger and had returned to his human form and walked off casually as if nothing had happened. But in his mind he knew he had killed several more, adding them to his mental checklist.

He walked into his local bar and sat down at the bar on the closest stool to the door in case he needed to stop himself from turning again.

"Double whiskey on the rocks" Testra shouted over the music to the barman. Testra looked around the bar at the people enjoying quiet drinks and the people over by the pool tables.

 

[Sepalcure]

Charity Rachel-Elise Wong cracked her knuckles and scoffed derisively at what she had just woken up to. Having previously taken a quick nap to recharge her powers, the young Eurasian was fully alert enough to start . . . cleaning up the filthy mess she was buried in. There were pizza boxes, Chinese takeout cartons with fetid smelling rotten food inside, and flies and rats that had decided to take residence in her crappy apartment. Her stolen one, that is, but who the hell cared?

"Ugh, good going Charity." She sighed and shot at a scurrying rat with one of her beloved Beretta Jetfire pistols. The bullet zipped through the air, dusting the fine air with gunpowder, as it imploded in the rat's soft body. Charity smirked, disposing of the carcass after retrieving a pair of unused household gloves from one of her overhead cupboards. Then she set to work, discarding the bulk of her garbage in a garbage bag, hefting it over her shoulder, only to carry it downstairs and dispose it outside her front door.

Wiping some sweat beads with the back of her hand, Charity huffed indignantly and scowled at the flies before swatting them with her gloved hands. She let them wash down the drain of her kitchen sink and then killed and disposed the remainder of the rats. Only problem? She had congealed blood and rat innards splattered over her dusty floorboards.

"Great, it's like I'm nine again, fucking perfect! I never even realized how shitty this dump was . . . and now I'm babbling to myself," she groaned, " . . . I must be going bat shit insane in here."

She watched as the garbage men came to collect her bagged crap and set about mopping her blood stained floor. She was used to blood, used to revel in the sight of it spraying out, smearing her cracked and skin-torn knuckles, but . . . . Charity knew that blood didn't belong in the residence of one's home. Especially if it was the blood of an animal, no matter how much society would detest said animal. Rats had feelings too, even if they were disease-carrying vermin.

She had wrapped the rats in a plastic Ziplock bag, to seal the smell of wet fur and death in there and not release it into her recently Febreeze-sprayed room. She had accumulated some funds from local bar fights, pool, and some gambling since she was a lucky ass at the shit. She could gamble a hand like no other and shoot a ball into a hole at a pool hall like no other as well.

But today . . . she felt like fighting. Snatching up her wrinkled ZOMBIE! hoodie, Charity straightened it out before zipping it up over her over-sized Dead Space t-shirt. She strapped her Beretta 950 Jetfire pistols in her holsters and made sure that the hem of her hoodie discreetly covered it. She left her Benelli M4 super 90 shotgun underneath her couch and briskly walked down the small set of stairs to her front door. Her floor was spotless, her kitchen counters were wiped down, and everything was pristine. Yay. Now, as she covered her head with her hood, and checked her pistols, loading some rounds into them, she relayed her mission in her head . . .

Go to the bar, instigate a lot, piss off some brutes, start a brawl, and play some pool to cool off and do it all over again. The regulars would bet on her ability to stay clean, bruise-free, as they saw fit.

She turned a corner, went down a back alleyway dimly lit by some flickering streetlamps, and finally headed into the hole-in-the-wall bar.

"Show time."

It was nondescript from the outside, white washed brick walls, peeling paint, and a crudely lit neon sign reading, "The Cove."

 

[Captain Squee]

He ha roamed the heavens, in complete despair. His walk was a low walk, hunched over dangling his arms. He had nothing to look forward to at all. He was simply walking as an empty shell. He never felt so lifeless. Why he even bothered to go on this walk was beyond him. Maybe he was seeking some sort of escape from this lack of happiness. Even the souls in heaven were imperfect. Everything was dirty, tainted, and sinful. The light of the heavenly air softly landed on his face. Although he wanted some sort of a shield from this tainted light, he could not find a single spec of protection. His emotions were too weak to lift his arms above his waist. His head looked down at the ground and his hair hung low, but even still, the rays of light made contact to his face.

His breath was shallow and unheard by even the closest living things. Omega could not stand to be here much longer. Hatred filled his eyes. How in the world could this place be considered such a perfect place if even he cannot be happy here? What he wanted was to be with his Alpha. He missed her so, even so that tears would crawl down his cheeks once in a while. But today, he was beyond tears. Why was he so saddened? He could hardly remember anything about back then other than the sight of her killing him. So why? Just why did he feel like this about her?

Walking in the grassy fields he called heaven, he released his ungodly form. Even in death, he was judged and feared for his demonic presence by a single look. His four ferocious wings spread out through the sky. He began to fly into the air. His heaven was supposed to have a starlit sky. So what was all this about? At least at night, he could be unseen. That was what he wanted. It was to be hidden.

To fly in the night sky, wild and free, was a dream of his. His tears would be carried away by the sky. That way, peace would be his.

 

[Exoskeleton]

Diagoth Reim stood on the side of purgatory. He was going out into the other places for a while. He jumped off the edge and seemed to be hurtling downwards but as the world around him turned opposite, he was now falling upwards into a place bright with clouds. Diagoth landed and looked around. Heaven was alot emptier since the last time he had visited. He walked around cautiously looking for his higher ups to allow him use of his full powers.

As he gazed around he spotted something from the corner of his eye. He kept walking forward though as he urgently had to find Zaenah: His master.

 

[Sepalcure]

Charity cracked her knuckles as she surveyed her surroundings with a mischievous gleam in her eye. She was ready to take her aggravation out on these poor degenerate saps, all three weeks of it. Cocking her pistols and reloading them, she spun them around experimentally, before leveling one between the eyes of one of her new adversaries. All conversation slowed down to a few surprised murmurs.

"Well, well, look at what the cat dragged in," a mouth full of yellowed teeth repulsed her as the owner of those despicable veneers slid off one of the stools. He approached her testing the blunt edge of his bat against the leg of the stool, and leered at her.

"Don't start with me, shitface," and then she fired her rounds into him, watching as the blood sprayed from his shattered kneecaps. She barely registered as chaos erupted around her: the formerly pacified bar occupants, now brandishing their shotguns, broken bottles, splintered wooden bats, and bone-cracked knuckles at her.

Show time indeed . . .