Shade

Whenever you hear someone say "Angel", you might think of some radiant being with huge white wings. Well, that's not always the case. There are others, and some of them are a lot more evil than you'd think... I'm talking, of course, of the Fallen. For one reason or another, these eternal beings were cast out of Heaven, and they want revenge. A revenge that may drag the temporal world down with the afterlife they desire so intensely to destroy. To prevent this from happening, a new type of angel was created. These ones don't live in Heaven, and never have. They're sationed in the mortal world. The people you meet and never remember. The ones you only ever see out of the corner of your eye. The angels charged with hunting down the Fallen, and protecting all the humans in the temporal world. Some call them Guardian Angels. They call themselves Shades. For centuries, the war between angels has been waged, and more newly dead spirits have been chosen to become Shades. There seems to be no end to the bloody cycle. Even some of the older Shades believe the war will have no end, but then again, anyone can be wrong...

Hi! Its me. And yes I made ANOTHER one. Stop looking at me like that. Anyway. Welcome to the afterlife! Here's a few little things you should know.

Spoiler

A guide to being an angel

as an Angel, and especially as a Shade, there is a code you have to live by. Break that code, and you'll be exiled from Heaven.

The Angle Code

. An angel cannot under any circumstance intervene with the death of a mortal when their time has come. However young they are.

.An angel cannot have any sort of relationship with a mortal.

. With the exception of the Angel of Death, no angel is allowed to harm or kill any mortal.

.An angel is FORBIDDEN from harming his brothers. (This is one of the worst offenses an angel could commit.)

.An angel is not allowed contact with any living friend, family member, or anyone whom they may have been attached to in their mortal life.


While there might be a lot of big rules to live by, being a child of light does have its perks. There's the flying, yeah, but you also get a lot harder to kill. I say harder, not immortal. (Where's the story in that, right?) An angel can only be killed while its near the remains of their body. (So stay away from graveyards, okay?) And of course, a Fallen can still give you long lasting injuries in any other circumstances.If you do "Die" when not in the presance of your remains, you'll regenerate and come back to life. An angel wasn't made to live in the temporal world. Even Shades can't live forever there. over the course of many centuries, they'll fade away. But for some reason,maybe because they are no longer governed by the laws of Heaven or the mortal world, Fallen are able to live longer and go on stronger in the Temporal world than other angels. in the case than any mortal sees some epic winged air battle with a fallen or any other angel-ish act, all you need to do is say "Forget", and their minds will be completely wiped of the entire incident.

That's all you really need to know on that subject, now for rules!

Spoiler

The storybook code
. Your angels, guys. NO CUSSING OR STRONG LANGUAGE PLEASE.

.No godmodding

.Don't kill off another character without asking their creator first.

.Romance is great, but again, act like an angel. No graphic or explicit romance.

.If you want to leave the storybook, make sure you let the rest of us know, and do something with your character to either pass it off to someone or take him or her out.

.You can have as many characters as you think you can handle.

And here's my favorite part!

Spoiler

Code: Select all

Character Template

[b][b]Name:

Age: (Biologically, not chronologically.)

Gender:

Looks: (If you include a picture, describe them again here.)

Personality:

Wing Description:

Status: (Shade, Fallen,Mortal/human, or anything else you might think up.)

Weapon: (It can have magic powers if you want, just nothing big.)

History: (Include who you were before you died, how you died, and if your a Fallen, the story of how you broke the code.)

Up for Love?:

Other:
 [/b][/b]

Who wants to join the ranks of heaven?

Marcus Gabriel

I remember nothing of my own death. I remember nothing of my mortal name. I remember nothing but Heaven. Nothing but being an angel. Being trained. Being a Shade. I stalked through the huge mountain mansion that served as our base, my rust red wings unfurled, letting the gentle breeze ruffle my black tinged feathers as I threw open the sliding glass door and marched on to the patio. And there she was, sitting stiff and erect on the porch swing.

"Arza!" The woman looked calmly around.

"Commander?"

"I received word that a new recruit will be arriving today. Name is Damiyan Peters. Watch out for him, and when he comes, escort him to my office."

"Yes, commander."

I left with a curt nod, slipping back into the house and back down the hallway. I leaned back to look up at the landing high above my head and rustled my wings open. Stairs were for people who couldn't fly. Below me I could see the other Shades bustling about their various tasks. Here a pair stood with their heads together strategizing. Another group was rushing out the door, wings unfurled as they departed on patrol. I smiled a little to myself, watching from the activities from the air. The Shades. The largest angel superpower in eternity. My army. Then my smile fell into an exasperated scowl.

Oh for the love of Tyr.

I swooped back down to the ground in front of the sofa, right in the line of sight of the tall Asian Shade sitting there. He looked up from his book and I folded my arms.
"Simon. What are you doing?" Simon looked from me to the book and back to me again.

"Is that a trick question?" He asked in over-played confusion.

I sighed.

Ask a stupid question, I guess... "You know what I meant! Get off you lazy crapper and do something useful!" I snapped open my wings and thrust myself into the air again.

He's a thousand years older than me, and I still have to baby sit him.

Washi

I step outside and breathe in the cold morning air, the same air that serves as my sanctuary of the mind. I unfurl my white wings and take a flying leap off the porch of my mountain home, nestled deep in the snowy white pine trees. I allow a sigh of relief to escape, as the expeditions are so rare that I learned to enjoy them. I look down below to see the pine forest race by quickly beneath me. I look down and see my destination beneath me, a small tree house that I'm pretty sure that no one knows about. I angle my white wings down so that I could land. I enter the tree house and fold in my wings taking in the surroundings of my second home that I'm away from so often. I sigh and sink down to the wooden floor boards and allow my self a moment to reflect on my past life. I am different than others, though I haven't told anyone yet, I can remember my death, my name and my life. I remember how my own sister killed me, how she sided with my deepest enemy. How, even at only age one, I was valuable for what I could do. I scrunched up my face and willed those awful memories that threatened to engulf me away, allowing me a moments peace.

Marnie Gaynit

I sighed stepping off to the side as I retightened my ponytail. Just another day of work of scooping one scoop of ice cream at a time for multiple people. I guess this job wasn't that bad, it wasn't that labor inducing, but it did get very old very quickly.

It was very mundane with the same routine every time. The same sort of people entering the shop every hour of the day and ordering the same flavors each time.

I heard the sound of the bell above the door as it opened and closed signaling a new customer as I finished readjusting my hair to be able to pass the standard protocol. I looked towards the door to see a familar blob of black, messy hair.

I stepped back towards the counter, waiting while he examined the flavors like he did every other day. He was a regular, he was pretty much like every other person that entered in the shop, except he wasn't. He didn't speak really, actually from my whole time working here I don't think I had ever heard him speak a single word.

He just looked up at me like he was doing now and then back down to point at one of the flavors. This time he pointed at rocky road. I grabbed the ice cream scoop and a fresh cone, I put a single scoop as usual and handed it to him. And he of course handed me a crisp 5 dollar bill and then I handed him back his change and receipt that he promptly stuffed into his back pocket.

His name was Cory and besides never speaking, he seemed to come in here every day around the same time, 6:30, just before I got off my shift. Besides being silent and coming in here every single day, he never seemed to blink much and he wasn't much like the average happy go lucky teenage customer.

He was around my age, but I had never seen him at my school, meaning he must've went somewhere else, but I wasn't sure where exactly. I remembered when he had first come into the shop, I had tried to speak to him, but he didn't answer. He didn't even use sign language to communicate, he was completely mute it seemed. And his stare, it unnerved me at the beginning, but I grew used to it.

It didn't bother me much, I seemed to sort of just get what he wanted.

I watched as he left after receiving his cone, I looked at my watch, 6:36 exactly. He wasn't much of a talker, but he was always on time if that made up for anything. I set down the scoop and leaned against the counter. The rest of my shift was slow and dull, not many people came in before I left at 7.

As I was leaving the shop, I walked down the street and turned the corner as I always did, but something caught in my throat, I saw something strange. I saw a familiar figure, I saw the blonde hair, and the saw the built. But it couldn't have been him, could it?

He was dead, he wasn't supposed to be here, I stood there for a moment, watching him, but then he disappeared into the crowd. I followed after him, trying to find him, but it seemed to be that he disappeared.

I wasn't sure what I had just seen, if it was him or just my imagination, but I wanted to find out, that's when I saw Cory again, turning the corner. I had never seen him outside of the shop, and for some reason, I decided to follow him.

Spoiler

@TheFantasy14 I hope I did alright, and I hope this wasn't to short. I just thought I needed something and I didn't have much to run on. Sorry.

I reclined with my back against the brick wall, not caring that my jacket scraped the grit. Nothing ever stayed pure in cities like these, anyway.

I stood in the dead-end alley, hands in my pockets. Cars swept past on the busy street, the sound swelling and fading like classical music. A woman strolled by on the sidewalk, walking her bulldog. She glanced at me. I smiled, waggling my fingers cheerfully. She immediately averted her gaze and walked on.

Disappointment conked me in the head, and I sighed miserably. “Does everyone assume I’m some shady person?” It was a moot question. Not too many people stand in an alleyway wearing a trench coat and fedora, especially in this day and age. One guy even asked me if I had any weed. I gave him some dandelions; he seemed happy enough.

Fed up with being judged by society, I reached into my trench coat, pulling out the detective book. Now, this was where things truly mattered. Gambling gangsters, capering crooks, and harebrained heists were all here within these pages. Licking the tip of my finger, I began to read.

But not two minutes into my novel, a dame’s shriek cut through the city noise. Figures. I stashed the paperback into my coat, slipping outta sight.

Sure enough, some greaser rounded the corner, darting into the alleyway. His grubby mitts were gripping a lady’s handbag, strong legs pumping him the heck out of dodge. He woulda seemed jingle-brained at first glance, running into a dead-end alley, but I’d already done some sniffing around.

At the end of the alley, there was a section of removable concrete, leading into a tunnel away from the dead end. The crook had his own little vanishing act.

“It’s actually kind of cute.” I grinned, stepping out of my hiding place. The man’s eyes widened, but he dashed forward, attempting to run around me. I kept my hands in my pockets, letting him breeze by. However, I also stuck out my foot to trip him.

He landed flat on his face, smacking against the cracked pavement. Whistling innocently, I poked him with my shoe. “Excuse me? Are you alright?”

His fingers were still wound tightly around the purse. I pulled and pulled, eventually freeing it from his dastardly grasp. Without a second’s hesitation, I turned and chucked it out of the alleyway.

Pride filled my chest as I heard a woman’s cheer of relief. It slowly died as the sound was followed by a great screeching of tires, a mild crash, and car alarms. Apparently I’d thrown the purse into the street.

The crook ripped his head from the ground, glaring at me. I sneered back, landing a stomp to his left hand. Scum like him shouldn’t be allowed to breathe the air.

“Hello there!” I said, waving cheerily. “Let me introduce myself. My name is Karma, and I’m here to ruin your life.”

The man pushed against the ground, bursting to his feet. Just as well. I widened my stance, blocking the exit with a heroic pose. “Ah ah ah,” I chided, shaking my finger. “Nowhere to run for you.”

The man clutched his shoulder furiously, heaving like a wounded animal. Drawing a knife from his coat, he leveled the blade towards me. “Get outta my way!” he spat, brandishing the dulled steel.

“H-hey! There’s no need to be like that!” I sighed. “Look, I’ll be brief. I needed a job, and this was the easiest one available. Now look, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. So, Claude Descartes, in the name of the Shade order and Heaven’s order, hallowed be their name, I place you under-”

Claude’s black wings snapped out, and he dashed at me in one quick motion. The knife morphed in his hand, becoming a wicked rapier as he swung for murder.

The thin blade slashed through the material of my trench coat, slicing blood. Claude’s wings flapped in midair, and he swung again. I fell back, tilting my neck as the sword nicked by. “Alright that’s fine, thank you!” I said, slamming my palm into his chest. He skidded backwards, wheezing uncomfortably.

I checked the arm and neck, a finger tracing the lines of blood drawn by the rapier. “Yes, this'll do nicely. An injury sustained on the job gets me a week off. Now then.” I smirked, undoing the strings of my trench coat. It slid from my shoulders, falling to the floor to reveal my true attire.

My dress pants hugged my legs, displaying my lean physique. A confident black vest laid over a white shirt, all topped with a grey-banded fedora. I tipped the hat, the smirk ever-present on my face. As I did, my grey wings unfurled from my back, stretching in satisfaction.

“I should tell you my true name,” I said lightly, hands on my hips. “No reason to be rude to criminals, right?”

Claude watched as I spread my arms with angelic poise. “My name,” I announced, letting the holiness radiate from my body, “is Simon Yi!”

The man frowned. “Who?”

“Simon Yi, the- oh forget it. I suppose that’s what I get for not doing more jobs.” I rubbed the back of my head, sighing. “I know you, though. Claude Descartes, former French militia. Currently the lowest-level threat to the Shades, but don’t feel too bad about that.”

Claude’s sword hand twitched. “What?”

“I mean, targets like you are usually reserved for newbies, but I was just in a hurry to get Gabe off my back. By all intents and purposes, you’re still a Fallen. It’s just...well…”

I backed away as he moved towards me angrily. “Hey! There’s no need to take it like that. I respect your utter devotion to bettering yourself and destroying the Shades. But you’re missing something, Claude.”

He walked towards me, glowering. “And what would that be?”

“Simple,” I said, backing up til I hit the wall. “I-I’m saying, you’ve got the motivation, the plan, the backstory...but you’re missing one thing, and one thing alone.”

My hand dipped into my shirt pocket, introducing the mook to a very close friend of mine. He’s the perfect son-of-a-gun to shoot your mouth off with, if you catch my drift.

Claude gasped. I smiled, cocking the gun’s hammer back with my thumb. “My dear Claude, it’s all in the execution.”

With that, I pulled the trigger and pumped the sucker full of iron. That’d teach him to interrupt my reading.

The goon collapsed, twitching, his ugly mug riddled with metal slugs. His filthy blood seeped into the ground as I stashed the gun back in my pocket. He’d live, unfortunately for him.

I sighed, dusting myself off. “Time to report to HQ,” I said halfheartedly, bundling Claude’s bloody body into my trench coat. Taking off from the alley, I soared with desperate pigeon-flaps, lugging the Fallen all the way back home.

Damiyan Peters

All-in-all, being dead isn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. The actual thing hadn't hurt nearly as much as I had imagined dying young would, and I get to stay in this sweet mansion. I feel my wings begin to twitch open and I push them back through the slits in my shirt.

Stupid things have a mind of their own...

I was close enough to the house now to see someone on the porch sitting in a porch swing like someone had replaced her spine with a metal rod. I lifted my hand to get her attention, and quickly ran down the path and up the front steps. "Hey! I was told to come here? I'm Damiyan. Damiyan Peters."

The woman blinked. Her flat hazel eyes showed no emotion. "Yes. They have been expecting you." I looked around at the porch. It was empty except for us.

"Um...they who?"

"This way. The commander will want to see you."

"Okay, yeah, but who is they?"
The woman opened the door and I followed her into the house. There were angels everywhere. The mansion's high ceiling gave me the feeling of being in a giant cathedral. Above me, some angels were flying back and forth, carrying supplies and weapons. Others were bustling around on the ground. A few were even sparring in a small group. Woah. I looked around the room. There were a lot of tough looking guys, but no one who struck me as the guy in charge.

"Up there." My escort said, as if she'd somehow sensed my thoughts. I looked up to the landing where she was pointing. It had no staircase connecting it, nor did it have any railing. Standing on the edge was a small girl with choppily cut black hair. Her red-tinged wings half folded behind her back. She peered down at me with large silver eyes, the sunlight bringing out the red tinges at the ends of her hair. They're joking, right? My escort unfolded her slate grey wings and lifted off, flying swiftly up to the other floor and landing next to the little girl. They waited for me at the edge of the platform. The little girl seemed to grow impatient.

"Just because we can wait here for eternity doesn't mean we want to, kid. Come on!"

I swallowed hard, and hesitantly unfurled my wings. the cool air ruffled the white inner feathers. as my fawn colored wings spread apart. I gave them an uncertain flap. I was brand new to the whole flying thing, and besides... I gulped again as I looked up at the landing. With a few more flaps of my wings I began to rise shakily into the air.

Don't look down. Don't look down. Don't look down...

I landed with my heels just touching the edge of the landing, and let out a heavy sigh of relief, careful not to look over my shoulder at the ground below. Someone flew by just then, throwing me off balance. Before I could fall off the edge, a small hand shot out, grabbing the front of my shirt and dragging me away from the end of the landing and through a pair of double oak doors. The little girl let go of my shirt then, and pushed the doors closed behind us. She stalked over to the mahogony desk at the end of the room. She had to flap her wings a bit to reach the seat and then rested her elbows on the mini desk. Wow. They weren't joking at all, were they? I looked to either side of me. The only other angel here was the woman who had escorted me in. The little girl spoke up.

"They made a good choice sending you to me. I can already see the potential." The way she said it, I didn't know if she was being sarcastic or not.

"Um...thanks, but, aren't you a little bit...young to be a mighty angel commander?"

The girl pulled a lighter out of her pocket, and began clicking it open and closed. Every time the lid opened, a flame immediately leaped up from the opening at the top.

"Yes. And?"The message was clear enough. I was saved from having to reply by the door opening. A young brunette girl poked her head in the door.

"Commander?" the commander shifted her attention from her lighter to the girl in the doorway.

"What is it?"

"Simon just reported back with a captive." The commander's eyebrows shot up.

"That lump actually did his job? I'll believe it when I see it. Send him in, and tell him to be quick about it. I have something I want him to do."