Blayze

[size=1]One crazy thing I did with my friends was not so embarassing when other people found out, but it did have us rolling on the floor in stitches when we did it. We were all at someone's house, and we decided to play with deodorant and fire. First we sprayed deodorant all over a tennis ball, set fire to it and kicked it around the garden. Then we tried it with a football, but that didn't work too well. So then my friend sprayed deodorant all over his crotch, and set fire to it. It wasn't particularly funny at the time, but because we filmed it, it was absolutely hilarious when we watched it back. I hope this doesn't lower anyone's opinion of me. I really am that stupid. [/size]

[size=1]Silver aimed and fired in one quick motion, hitting the target close to the bullseye, and spinning round to get to the next target, aiming and firing quickly again. The bullseye from this target was blasted clean out of the target. He flicked his eye over to Red, who had hit two bullseyes already, and was reloading to get the third. Silver flicked his guns up, and reloaded them much quicker than Red was doing. In a few moments he had turned and fired again, hitting another bullseye. Smoke danced around him, billowing from the barrels of his pistols as he fired. He fired again, hitting a third bullseye from his fourth target. Red had hit three bullseyes out of four as well, missing his last shot. Silver threw one gun down to help him hold the other, and reloaded with astonishing speed, and waited for Red to reload as well. Both men faced their targets, and Silver smiled at Red quickly, before pulling the trigger and blasting a hole through the centre of the target. Red saw this, and a second after he pulled the trigger, a hole was blown from his target, just outside the bullseye. He cursed and threw down his pistol. Silver walked up to him, clapping. Congratulations, Red," he said, "You couldn't beat me." Red looked at Silver threateningly for a moment, then both men burst out laughing. [i]I, for one, have a strong belief that Red and I were separated at birth. He has already become a good friend to me, and I have only known the man a few days. We have very much in common, and he won my respect during the shooting contest we engaged in yesterday. He was an amazing shot, but he still couldn't beat me. I am still the undisputed ruler of shooting contests. I can see us getting along famously.[/i] [/size]

[size=1](OOC: I'm not feeling too great about this, but it is time for me to make my departure...) Kraven's swords swung through the demons, the first rooftop almost cleared by now. K's axe and Asariel's glaive cleaved through the flesh of the demons like butter. The demons slashed with their claws and bit with their teeth, some striking, drawing blood. Kraven's hands were covered in crimson, both his own blood and the blood of the demons. Snarling beasts flew in all directions, and blood flew from bodies to the ground, splattering on the floor. Kraven fought, laughing in the face of death, but deep down he knew that three people could not win against an ever-increasing tide of darkness. He may have seemed brash on the outside, but on the inside he feared for his life, and the lives of K and Asariel. They had almost cleared this rooftop, but even more demons seemed to be gathering on the other rooftops. There was a tide of them that seemed as though it would never cease. It seemed as though Leviathan had won. As K kicked the last of the demons from the rooftop, watching it fall the thirty stories or so to the street, he sighed. He, too, knew that they couldn't win this fight, no matter how hard they tried. Kraven looked up, and something hit him. He could win. He could beat the demons. But it came with a cost. But this was one cost he was finally willing to make. He called over to K. "K!" he shouted, "Stand well back! This could get very dangerous!" K moved away from Kraven, taking Asariel with him. Kraven threw one sword away, letting it clatter to the ground. With the other, he placed it on the ground in front of him, and closed his eyes. He summoned all the energy he could muster, and a thin stream of blood-red light trickled like fluid down the blade, collecting on the floor where his blade touched the ground. He moved around, and did this action four more times at different points around his body, creating a five-pointed star around himself. Beams of light stretched from point to point, joining the five points up, and a circle of light surrounded them all. Kraven stood in the middle of this giant pentagram, and the whole symbol began to glow, blazing with deep red light. Kraven opened his arms, and he began to float a few inches off the ground. Ethereal wind whipped up around him, flapping his hair around uncontrollably. His eyes turned crimson, and he opened his mouth and let out a howl like nothing you had ever heard before. light blasted out from his eyes and mouth, into the sky, which had turned stormy and grey. Kraven's wings seemed to grow, becoming bigger and more powerful than before, and he hit the ground a few seconds after, the pentagram fading away. "What the hell just happened?" asked K, unsure of what Kraven had just done. "He has summoned the power of hellfire onto himself. He has grown in power, but anyone who has ever tried that before has died. How did he manage?" said Asariel. "Stand back," said Kraven, his voice deep and booming, seemingly coming from everywhere at once. He turned to the demons over on the other rooftops, and crimson and black flames shot from his body, blasting their way through each and every demon on the rooftops. As the flames hit them, they exploded into clouds of ash. But Kraven was clearly in pain. His face was contorted in a combination of pain and rage, and blood was steadily dripping from his mouth. But still he was laughing. Flames shot from his body, flying out in every direction, destroying not only every demon on the rooftops, but every demon for a mile or two radius. Then he stopped, and everything was calm. All the demons were gone, Kraven dropped to one knee. Another figure appeared on the rooftop. It was the Duke Kraven had seen earlier, Leviathan. He looked shocked about what had just happened to his army. "How did you do that?" he screamed, "That was over ten thousand demons, and you just destroyed them all! You can't do that!" Kraven got to his feet, and grabbed the image of Leviathan. Suddenly, the Duke was there, in Kraven's grasp. The demon's power had taken Leviathan from his proper place and brought him here, in less than a second. "It is time for you to die, Leviathan. You will be the first, but definitely not the last," boomed Kraven, squeezing his hand, and crushing Leviathan's windpipe. His other hand grabbed the Duke's face, and the hellfire that Kraven now possessed turned the Duke to ash, which crumbled in Kraven's grip. K and Asariel moved over to Kravne to congratulate him, when he fell to his knees, clutching his chest. He coughed, and blood splattered onto the floor. "What's happening to him?" asked K. "No-one is supposed to absorb hellfire, not even channel it through their bodies. He is dying," replied Asariel calmly. At this, Kraven got to his feet shakily. More demons appeared behind them, supposedly to check whether Leviathan was actually gone, and, seeing K and Asariel with Kraven, they moved, ready to attack. "Get out of here," said Kraven, "I want to see this through to the end." Asariel grabbed K and they started running to the edge of the rooftop. They looked back for a moment. "Thank you, both of you. I couldn't have picked better people to die for." And then, Kraven did something he had never done before. He smiled at them. "Now get going," he said, "And tell Reoan that I will be with her again, someday." K nodded, and Asariel grabbed him, and jumped off the rooftop, flying away towards safety. Demons flocked towards Kraven, and he grinned for the second time in a few minutes. His body began to fail, and his skin flaked slowly into ash. Then his body fell, and a blinding flash of red and black light blasted from it, destroying the demons that had come to kill him, and taking Kraven's body with it. All that was left of Kraven was a voice that could be heard on the wind, saying one word: "Reoan...." [/size]

[size=1]Xander flung balls of flame towards Katz, who instinctively ducked and dodged the flaming hot balls of destruction. Xander threw more and more, until the room was almost completely engulfed by a flaming inferno. Katz still managed to duck and dodge, getting away from all the fire without harm. Xander knew that he could stop if he started hurting his friend, but he kept going. Just then, his communicator buzzed. It was about the size and shape of a small cell phone, and he unhooked it from his belt, and answered it. "There will be a special briefing in Operations in a few minutes. Everyone who hears this message must attend. Thank you," crackled the voice. The connection cut off. "That's weird," said Xander, as Katz apparently received a similar message, "Normally they announce mission briefings over the PA system. Why go to all the trouble of sending us all messages?" "I do not know, friend, but what I do know is that we need to attend the meeting. I suppose we should head over to Operations." The alien and the fire spirit walked off, heading to Operations, seeing field agents rushing around everywhere. [/size]

[size=1]Gabriel ran and hid behind a dumpster, reloading his pistol to give himself more ammunition. He whipped out a second pistol too, and loaded that one. There was a bullet-mark in his flak jacket, where one bullet had hit its mark, but it hadn't penetrated the fabric of the jacket. Gabriel thanked God for Kevlar. Bullets zinged and ricocheted around, bouncing off the dumpster and thudding into the brick walls around the alley, one narrowly missing Gabriel's head. He stuck his hand up above the dumpster, and fired off a few shots, hoping that one of them may hit home, but none of them did. He prayed that no-one would realise his location, and decided to stay put until his team arrived. But someone did work out his location. He stepped round the corner, his silver pistol glinting in the dull light, and he aimed it at Gabriel's chest. He fired, the bullet twisting itself towards him. It drilled through the Kevlar, the Teflon-coated bullet piercing it like a hot poker. It screwed itself into Gabriel's chest, and he fell to the ground, just managing to gun down the Angel who had shot him before he lost all control of his body's functions. But all was lost. A group of Angels, some of whom were in the assassination squad that had taken him down last time, were crowding around him, drawing their weapons. It was time for Gabriel to die. They all aimed their weapons at him, this time remembering to take aim at his head rather than his chest, and Gabriel closed his eyes. Six shots fired, and Gabriel opened his eyes again. The Angels were all dead, bulletholes drilled into their heads, blood gushing out onto the street. "What the hell...?" croaked Gabriel, almost losing the power of speech. He looked up, and saw several blurry figures walking up to him. Then he blacked out... (OOC: The figures are you guys. You have come to rescue me, so finish off your posts at the Demons' base and come get me!) [/size]

[size=1]I would definitely recommend Silence of the Lambs. It is an excellent film-the plot is extremely well-written, the suspense really leaves you hanging, and there are some incredible plot twists that you would never think of. Anthony Hopkins is, of course, superb as the suave psychopath Hannibal Lecter. I have never read the book, and I didn't actually know there was a book, but as I have said, I definitely recommend Silence of the Lambs. I haven't actually seen Hannibal, but I have heard that, whilst it is a good film, it in no way measures up to the original. The chianti line is an absolute classic, though. Hope this helps in your decision. [/size]

[size=1]Phoenix made his excuses and trudged back to the mansion. Parties were usually his thing, but tonight he just didn't feel like it for some reason. Maybe it was simply because he was tired from fighting off an army of demons. His swords were stained with blood, and his face and hands were also covered in the ebony blood of the demons. He pushed the vast doors of the mansion open, and they swung inwards, revealing the mansion's inner delights. The dusty, cobweb-covered walls were dull and lifeless, the grey stone cold to the touch. Flaming torches hanging in braziers lit the walls, so the only light that shone was a flickering, orange light. Phoenix walked up the stairs to the upper floors, where the Hunters lived and slept. Phoenix went to his room, threw his belongings down onto the messy floor, and headed for the library. He needed some information about the Tower of Fate, a subject which fascinated him, as there was so little information about it, yet it was so close. He hauled a huge tome onto the desk and flipped it open. Dust flew up from the book, and the pages crackled as they moved. Suddenly, a hugely magnified voice echoed throughout the mansion. It said: "All Hunters report to the training facility for debriefing." Phoenix thought this was a little strange. They had never needed debriefing before, so why now? It wasn't even like that was the toughest challenge they had ever faced either. So why now? Putting these thoughts aside, he put the book back on the shelf and moved to the training facility. [/size]

[size=1]Thank you so much, Revue, that's just what I was looking for. The image wasn't hard to find, it was simply on Google Image Search. Type in "Final Fantasy 7 Before Crisis" and both images should be on the first page. Many thanks [/size]

[size=1]Gabriel kicked down the door of the side room, and, upon entering it, he found a stockpile of weapons, from sub machineguns to simple crowbars. He picked up an extra handgun, as well as some more ammo, some compact detonation devices, smoke grenades, and flashbangs. He checked the clip on his current handgun. That devious bastard Michael had given him a gun with no ammo. So he slammed a new clip in, and picked up a few spares, slipping them in his various pockets, and taking a flak jacket from the rack, and slipping it on over his shirt. Now he was ready for any resistance that came up. * * * Michael looked at his watch, and counted down the final seconds he had given Gabriel. Just as the timer clicked over to the thirty seconds, a guard ran into the room, shouting that Gabriel had escaped, and Michael drew his silenced pistol, and ran out of the room. * * * Gabriel fired two shots into an Angel who got in his way, and took his ammo, slipping it into his pocket along with all the rest. He crept along the corridor, keeping close to the ground, his gun always at the ready. More Angels came up, and he knocked them down, his gun flashing with each shot. He crept along the many different rows of crates and boxes, sneaking away from the Angels, and crept up behind one, grabbing him with a free arm, smashing his pistol butt into his temple with the other, placing him gently on the floor. Gabriel could see the light of the exit, and he ran for it, keeping his gun ready all the time. More Angels stood in his way, so he gunned them down, and, seeing the opportunity, grabbed one of their cell phones, then ran away from the base, throwing a few detonation devices behind him, blowing up the entrance to the base, leaving them with something to sort out while he was gone. He flipped open the guard's cell phone, and rang Sariel's number. She even had a cell phone built into her personal organiser. He waited for her to pick up... (OOC: That gives you something to do, DC!) [/size]

[size=1]Hey, I was wondering if someone could make me a new avi and banner using the attached images. Try and make one from the first attachment, but if that is too difficult, then I will be just as happy with one made from the second. On the avi, just put part of either picture, as well as my name, and on the banner put the words: "We must answer the call of duty" If this is too much to ask, or if you need any more details, then put them here, and I will try and give them to you. Thank you [/size]

[size=1]Kraven stood on the roof of the hotel, watching as Reoan was taken away by the police. Amber and David were bundled into the back of a squad car as well. Kraven snarled, seeing these mortals interfere with something they knew nothing of. But Reoan must have wanted to go with them. If she had not, she could have broken free of the handcuffs with a thought. Asariel and K stood with him. He had only just managed to get them out of the way of the police, who would have found them next to Azrael's dead body and put two and two together. They were now all standing on the roof as the sun set slowly in the distance. They watched as their companions were being taken away. "It's all so sentimental, Kraven. You've changed a lot," said a voice from behind them. Kraven whirled around to see a young-looking man in a long, white trenchcoat, covering a white suit with a black tie. His hair was white, and hung loosely over his face. He grinned as Kraven turned to face him. "What do you want, Leviathan?" he asked the Duke, his hand moving towards his sword, "Do you want revenge for the two of your brothers we have disposed of? Or do you simply want to take me back to Hell?" "Oh, you haven't disposed of Lucifer just yet. We have certain plans for him. And as for Astaroth, he means nothing. He was merely a pawn in a much larger game of chess. And there is no point wasting your energy trying to kill me, Kraven, because I am not really here." "Leviathan, you are going to go back to Hell, and tell the other Dukes that I am coming for them. Even if I have to fight my way through Hell itself, I am going to find them, and I am going to kill each and every one of them, including you. Do you understand?" "Oh, I understand what you wish to do, Kraven, but what I do not understand is how you are going to do it when you are dead?" "What are you talking about, Leviathan?" growled Kraven, his eyes changing colour to a deep crimson, his veins sticking out from under his skin. "Look behind you, Kraven," said the Duke, before disappearing. He turned to see a veritable army of lesser demons surrounding himself, Asariel and K on the roof, as well as thousands on the other rooftops around them. Kraven drew his swords, and saw the others draw their weapons as well. "Asariel, K, we may die here now, and if we do, then I just want to say that you were good partners to me. And, all arguments aside, if we get out of this alive, I hope we can be friends. But now, we must fight our way out of this. The Dukes have decided that we have become too great a threat to their plans, and now they want us dead. I believe that we can win this, as I have seen you two fight Azrael, the Angel of Death, and win, so I have complete faith in you, and I hope you have faith in me." Kraven held his hand out, and Asariel and K both placed their hands on top of it. "Now let's fight," he said, turning to the tide of demons, and running towards them, his weapons flashing... (OOC: Hope this is alright, DC) [/size]

[size=1]I live a little way from London, and when I heard the news yesterday, I was shocked to say the least. It's really something you never think is going to happen to your country in your lifetime, and yet the evidence is there. I was fairly lucky, though, as the day before yesterday I was in London on a school trip, and my parents were both in London as well. It scared me how close it had been. As for the motives for commiting these attacks, I don't think it is fair to say that they were doing it because of the Olympics. It was the day after the result came in, and the evidence shows that this attack was pretty well-coordinated, something which I don't believe anyone could plan in less than a day. Several of my friends had someone in their family who was in London, so they were pretty scared for most of yesterday, although as far as I know none of them were hurt. According to the news, high-up Muslims have said that the people who commited these attacks were not true Muslims in any sense of the word, but I still worry about the repercussions for any Muslims in this country. Without a doubt, a lot of people in this country, a lot of sick, narrow-minded people will blame any Muslim for this atrocity, but that is completely out of order. I hate the way that just because one group of people from a certain cultural background have done something like this, the whole culture is blamed. Anyway, I hope my views count towards something here. [/size]

[i][size=1]You know, I can tell this day's going to be a real downer... [/size][/i][size=1]"Verdane Silver, you are charged with the following crimes: robbery, arson, attempted murder by poisoning, attempted murder by stabbing, attempted robbery of a governor's home, impersonating a member of the government, impersonating a member of the clergy, and the last and most despicable of all your crimes is the crime of piracy," said the government official, reading from a long parchment scroll. Verdane stood on the gallows, the noose already tied around his neck, looking rather sheepish. As a last request, he was allowed to wear his hat as he was being hung. He loved that hat, the one with the huge feathers and the silver lining. But that was the last of his worries. "You have been sentenced to death by hanging," concluded the government official. "I had worked that one out, you idiot!" shouted Verdane, looking up at the rope that was now noosed around his neck. This was classic Verdane Silver, defiant to the last. And this definitely was his last. A drumroll started up, and as it reached it's climax, the executioner pulled a lever, causing the floor beneath Verdane's feet to fall away, and his entire body fall. But, seconds before the rope reached its full length, thus killing him, something silver flew through the air, slicing through the rope, dropping Verdane to the floor. He looked around for the source of the object, then ran over to a soldier and grabbed his sword. If he had to go out, then he would go out fighting. Soldiers ran towards him, their bayonets firmly attached to their rifles, ready to stab or shoot Verdane. He held the sword firmly, in a grip which was common to him, but unusual for others. He would keep two fingers outside the handgrip, allowing extra movement of the weapon. To demonstrate this, he twirled his sword around a little, then jumped at the soldiers, his sword flashing. It collided with the bayonets, and he whirled around, his sword singing through the air, slicing through the soldier's garments and flesh alike, blood dripping to the floor. Finally, Verdane saw where the silver object had come from. A tall, thin streak of a man was running towards him, his sword drawn, his pistol smoking. The new arrival jumped over to join Verdane, and they stood back-to-back, their swords ready to fight. "Good day, sir, the name's Verdane Silver," said Verdane to the stranger. "Yes, I know, I've heard of you. You were part of Giacomo "Bloodshed" Morelli's crew, were you not?" replied the stranger. "Aye, that I was." "Then I offer you this: join my crew, and I will save you from the government. Do we have a deal?" "Well, I do value my life above most of my other possessions, so yes, I think we do have a deal. What did you say your name was?" "I didn't. My name isn't important right now. What is important is this," he said, drawing a small leather drawstring bag from his belt, opening it and spilling the contents on the floor in front of them. "What are you doing? Have you gone mad?" asked Verdane, seeing the strange behaviour of the stranger. "Not yet, and hopefully not for a long time," replied the stranger, taking a flaming torch from the wall of the fortress, and touching it to the trail of powder that now lay on the floor. It went up, orange flames billowing out around them. The stranger grabbed Verdane by the collar and threw him over a wall, before jumping over himself. They were protected from the explosion by the wall, and when the chaos had passed, Verdane stood up, and looked around. There were very few left alive, and those who were were injured. "We had better go," said the stranger. "Wait a minute, now, stranger, I need my belongings," said Verdane, running over to the dead prison guard, and taking his sword, pistols, coat and his lucky tricorn hat, which he replaced his fancy hat with. "Alright, now I'm ready," he said. "Well, follow me then," said the stranger, and he ran, jumping over the wall, and hurling himself off the side of the fortress, which overlooked the ocean, some two hundred metres below. Verdane watched as the stranger fell, landing in the water with a huge splash. Verdane, shrugged and threw himself off the edge after the stranger. He hit the water, and then followed the stranger, who was swimming towards a ship. "Wait a minute, now," said Verdane, struggling to keep his head above water, "Would I be right in thinking that that ship is the Dauntless? The pride of the Meran navy? Then that would mean you are...John Hervey? You are Red?" "Aye, that's me. You would have found out sooner or later, but I suppose now is as good a time as any." Soon they were aboard the Dauntless, and Red was introducing Verdane to everyone. From Hugo, the navigator, Ginger, the beautiful tailor, and Juri, the ship's cook, to some new arrivals, similar to him in many ways. There was Maris, another beautiful woman, Tai Koshi, Katara, Nikki, Dartanian Thatcher, Brett, Kaine Retlale, also known as Blitz the Shadow Streak, and a strange woman named Black Orchid. He introduced himself to them all, and some of them who had knowledge of piracy were impressed that he had been Giacomo Morelli's right-hand man, but then he was too tired to continue, so he went to his quarters... (OOC: Sorry, the end is kinda lame, but its the best I can do at the moment) [/size]

[size=1]The bag was placed back over Gabriel's head as he was walked from the car to the Angel's base by Michael himself. As they walked through the old abandoned warehouse, Angels gathered to see the traitor they had hunted for so long, bloodied and beaten. He was lead through the warehouse to a variety of yells and screams, and some attempted violence, but most were smart enough not to try and hurt the prisoner. One particular Angel was so distraught at the return of Gabriel that he ran up to the prisoner and punched him in the stomach, making him double over, winded. Michael himself turned to the Angel, drew his pistol and shot him, a single bullet passing straight through his skull, dropping him to the floor. "This is what will happen to you if you try to leave any sort of physical mark on my prisoner, do you all understand?" Michael shouted to the rest of his gang. A murmur of acknowledgement went around the warehouse. "Good," he said, walking Gabriel away, to his personal chamber. It was a small, dark room, furnished only with a desk and two chairs. Gabriel was led to one chair, and Michael sat in the chair opposite, and he turned the small desk light on, dismissing the other Angels who stood in the room, making sure that they would not disturb them. "Well, Gabriel," he said, taking the bag off his head, "Here we are at last. Two enemies, facing each other across a table. Somehow it's not quite as I had imagined it all these years..." (OOC: You can finish this little section off, Cyriel. Make some kind of deal with Gabriel, and then let him escape, making it look like a breakout on his part) [/size]

[size=1]I guess this is probably going to be a pretty big talking point on here, so I thought I'd get in there first with a thread. What I'm wanting to know is: did you have Live 8 in your country, and if you didn't did you watch it on TV, but if you did, then who played? Here in England, we probably made the biggest deal of it. We had Paul McCartney and U2, Coldplay, Razorlight, Velvet Revolver, Madonna, Robbie Williams, Snow Patrol, followed by the biggies at the end of the evening: The Who and Pink Floyd. Overall, I thought the Live 8 show in London was absolutely amazing. Some of the bands put on the best performances I've seen by them, and they really pulled out all the stops to make it something special. [/size]

[size=1]Michael pushed Gabriel off the pathway, and onto the dusty road. He signalled to one of the Angels, who grabbed Gabriel and equipped him with a flak jacket.[/size] [size=1]"What the hell are you doing?" Gabriel asked the Angel, who merely looked away, apparently disgusted by the sight of Gabriel. Michael gave Gabriel a small grin, then turned around, drew his silenced pistol, and fired twice. Astaroth fell to the floor, bleeding. He would not get up again. Cries of surprise could be heard across the other side, and the sound of weapons being drawn could, too.[/size] [size=1]Muzzle flashes and the sounds of gunshots rang out from across the other side, and Michael crammed Gabriel into the back of an armoured car before clambering in himself. He hammered on the tinted glass window that separated himself from the driver, and the car pulled away, leaving the Angels to battle it out with the Demons.[/size] [size=1]Gabriel looked up at the man he had long since wanted to kill, and saw the haggard, tired face of a man who missed his daughter. Gabriel attempted to appeal to his pity.[/size] [size=1]"Michael. You were always a friend to me, and I like to think I responded in kind. You knew me, you knew that I wasn't the one who did that to your daughter. You know it wasn't me."[/size] [size=1]Michael sighed, and put his gun away.[/size] [size=1]"I never believed for a second that you were the one who did it, Gabriel. But if I hadn't have done something about it, the rest of the gang would think of me as weak, even try to overthrow me. Do you understand what I'm saying?"[/size] [size=1]"Of course I do. I know you better than anyone, Michael, and you know me better than anyone."[/size] [size=1]"I suppose that's what comes of sharing the same blood."[/size] [size=1]"I guess so. Is there anything we can do about this?"[/size] [size=1]"I don't know, brother, but I believe that if we can work a few things out, we can fight the Demons together."[/size] [size=1]"We'll have to do it covertly, though. We don't want the Angels to know you've gone back on your word."[/size] [size=1]"Definitely not. But we'll work something out, like we always do," Michael held out his hand, "And I think we should put our differences in the past." Gabriel took his hand and shook it.[/size] [size=1]"You know, Michael, Hadrienne was the best niece a guy could have asked for. I was as upset as you when she died. But together we'll find out who did this."[/size] [size=1]* * *[/size] [size=1] [/size] [size=1]The Angels and Demons back at the damn fought, firing at each other, ducking behind cover, some falling, some dying, some merely injured. But it was a brutal, bloody battle. Dozens of Angels and dozens of Demons fell. But there were still a few left alive, lying on the ground, madly clinging onto their consciousness, because they knew that if they lost it, they would not be able to return.[/size] [size=1] [/size] [size=1]A single, solitary man walked onto the field, dressed in a black leather jacket, black trousers and a black shirt, his hands covered by black gloves. In his hand he held a semi-automatic pistol. He was neither Angel nor Demon, nor was he a part of Gabriel's crew. He was something else entirely.[/size] [size=1] [/size] [size=1]He walked over to the nearest survivor, an Angel named Arel, and crouched down by him. He checked him over, and found that he was seriously wounded, a neck shot that would leave him bleeding to death. He grabbed Arel's face and looked into his eyes.[/size] [size=1] [/size] [size=1]"Listen to me, Arel. You will tell me if the trade went successfully, or I will kill you right now. Simply nod if it went well."[/size] [size=1] [/size] [size=1]Arel nodded weakly, staring into the man's eyes. They were a shocking blue colour, the colour of ice, partially obscured by his long brown hair, which he occasionally brushed from his eyes.[/size] [size=1] [/size] [size=1]"Excellent. So the Angels have Gabriel, and the Demons have Astaroth?"[/size] [size=1] [/size] [size=1]Arel shook his head.[/size] [size=1] [/size] [size=1]"Why not?"[/size] [size=1] [/size] [size=1]"The Angels got Gabriel...but Michael shot Astaroth before the Demons could take him...Lucifer got away, but he was the only one..."[/size] [size=1] [/size] [size=1]"Interesting," said the man, standing up. He smiled down at Arel, then, as he walked away, fired two shots into his head. He heard a gasp from another living Angel as he did this, and this one reached for his gun, but the strange man shot him before he could get to it.[/size] [size=1] [/size] [size=1]A couple of Demons managed to get to their feet and grab their weapons, aiming them at the man, but he was too quick. He had turned and fired off three shots, two hitting one of the Demons and one hitting the other. They fell, dead. No others got to their feet, but the man placed a high-power explosive charge on the ground anyway. He walked away, to a safe distance of 100 metres, then detonated the charge with a remote device. The damn burst, water spraying from the cracks that now ran up and down it, and the water blew the damn away, taking the bodies of the Angels and Demons with it.[/size] [size=1] [/size] [size=1]The man looked completely nonplussed about this, and walked away calmly...[/size] [size=1] [/size] [size=1](OOC: Ok, there's a few little things in here for you to think about. Gabriel and Michael are brothers, the Angels will now be working with Gabriel's crew-even if they don't know about it-and there is a new threat coming. Carry on with your posts, fighting the Demons)[/size]

[size=1]The van rocked as it went over bumps, the thick bag over Gabriel's head blocking out all traces of light. He knew that his hands were cuffed, though, and his legs were tied together with plastic cable ties, the sort that are practically impossible to escape from. He was surrounded by at least four Demons, armed with their standard battle rifles, and he knew that Lucifer was sitting in the passenger seat, haivng left his post in the monitor room to watch over the handover. After what Gabriel thought was probably around twenty minutes, the bag was lifted, and he saw that he was now outside the van, a large, dark shape visible not too far away. Gabriel smelt the air, and heard the rumble of falling water, and worked out where he was. He was lead across a long, narrow pathway, the roaring getting louder as he went further across. One Demon was standing behind him, urging him on by pointing his battle rifel at Gabriel's back. He walked further along the path, eventually meeting up with another figure, as battered and broken as he was, also handcuffed and bloodied. Gabriel knew him. It was a Demon named Astaroth, one he had almost managed to kill a few months back, but since then he had disappeared, and no-one knew where he had gone. But apparently someone did. A dark figure came up behind Astaroth, his arms in the air to show that he was unarmed. Gabriel felt Lucifer behind him, and guessed that his arms were similarly positioned. "As you can see, I am unarmed," said Lucifer, "Now can we get on with this? It's getting rather chilly." "I'll be glad to. It'll be nice having Gabriel back where he belongs," said a voice that was all-too familiar to Gabriel. The dark figure stepped into the circle of torchlight that surrounded them, and it was revealed. "Michael," said Gabriel softly. "Correct!" said the man, "You always were a smart one, Gabriel." He laughed, a horrible, cold laugh. "Now where was I? Ah yes, the deal..." (OOC: You still need to find out where I am, and Kamuro has all the details of that, so I won't be posting until after he has made his next post. Have fun with the Demons!) [/size]

[size=1]Kraven saw Reoan ram her blade through Lucifer, sending him to his knees. A single tear rolled down the Morning Star's cheek, as he felt his friend ebb away into nothingness. He shifted his grip on Reoan's sword slightly, feeling the energy that had been poured into this weapon so many times previously. So much anger. So much hate. He needed to tap into all of it to destroy the Morning Star. Blood trickled from the fallen angel's mouth as the sword was driven further into his body, but he seemed oblivious to this pain. Azrael was dying, bleeding to death, and Lucifer could not do a single thing about it. He was losing his friend. Kraven summoned all of his hatred, his rage and anger, his pure fury that he had felt over the years towards the creature that knelt in front of him, and channeled it into the sword, combining it with all the feelings that lay in it from Reoan. He lifted the weapon, his eyes blazing with fury, and he brought it down, slicing through the muscle that held Lucifer's wings to his body. The huge, grey-feathered wings fell to the floor, and turned slowly to ash, which blew away. Still the Morning Star knelt, his pain over the imminent death of his loyal companion beating down all the pain of his wounds. Kraven stood there, his eyes softening, his grip on Reoan's weapon tighter than ever, small rivulets of blood dribbling down his arm as his nails bit into the soft flesh of his hand. He had taken his enemy's wings. All that was left now was to kill him. He raised the sword again, and brought it down, but it was stopped. Reoan's katana, the one that had been pierced through the body of Lucifer, had blocked the weapon. "No. Don't kill him..." she said softly. "Why not? We have him here, we have the opportunity. It is what we both want, is it not?" replied Kraven, equally softly, but with a tone of anger in his voice. "I don't know," said Reoan, collapsing into a chair... [/size]

[size=1]I love pirates! Name: Verdane Silver Nickname: "Silver" Age: 25 Appearance: Verdane is a tall, commanding figure, although he is not particularly powerful in appearance, being tall and thin rather than hugely muscular. His skin is sun-bronzed, with a healthy gleam to it. He usually wears a grubby white shirt, open to bare his chest to the elements, and black pantaloons, with black buckeled boots and a long black travelling jacket over all of it. Sticking with the traditional look of a pirate, he wears a battered and slightly torn cloth tricorn hat. Weapons: Silver carries a simple steel cutlass, the classic weapon of a pirate, which hangs sheathed at his side and a pair of flintlock pistols, tucked into the scarlet sash that he wraps around his waist. History: Silver was the son of a travelling sailor and a prostitute, with whom the sailor had a single night with, unwittingly impregnating her. Silver's mother had fallen hopelessly in love with this sailor, and she waited for his promised return, carrying his child. He never returned. She thought that he had died, so she checked with the naval office, who told her that the man she had slept with that night had never existed, or at least he wasn't in the Royal Navy. She came to a sensible conclusion. The man she had slept with was, in fact, a pirate. Six months after finding this out, she gave birth to her son, and as soon as he could fend for himself, she threw him out on the streets, not wanting to be reminded of the betrayal of his father, but not wanting his death on her conscience either. He managed to scavenge to survive, and he was eventually found by an old man by the name of Giacomo Morelli, a travelling Italian "merchant," better known in the circles that lived outside the law as "Bloodshed Morelli," the most vicious pirate ever to have sailed the seven seas. Silver was taken on as a cabin boy, and as Morelli killed more and more of his officers for petty crimes against him, Silver became Morelli's right-hand man, becoming a pretty nasty pirate himself. However, one day, as Morelli's ship was sailing past England, they were attacked by a Naval vessel, and their firepower was far outmatched. The ship sank, and the few crew members who survived were arrested and taken back to England, where they were tried and sentenced to be hanged. Silver was one of these pirates, but fortune was smiling on him that day, as when he was about to be hung, a group of pirates attacked, and cut him free. Their leader, a man called Red, gave Silver and opportunity to join his crew, so he did, out of honour of the life debt. He feels he will not be free until he saves Red's life from danger, but he does not believe that he will leave even after he has done this. Personality: Whilst Silver is a joker when around the crew, once he enters battle, especially with the Navy, he changes. His bloodlust takes over, and he will stop at nothing before every single one of his enemies are destroyed. Speciality: Silver is a good all-rounder. He is well-adjusted to using either guns or his cutlass, and will use a combination of the two different types of weapon to confuse his enemies. Snippet: "Now!" shouted the captain, "Swing across to them!" Verdane Silver took a firm grip on his rope, and swung across the ocean onto the other ship. He landed, his boots thudding as he hit the wooden deck opposite, and he had a pistol and his cutlass drawn almost before he hit the deck. He fired, blasting a hole in one of the sailors, and cut another down with his cutlass. They ran towards him, their rifles with bayonets ready, and he kept cutting them down, screaming in happiness as their blood drenched the deck, mixing with the salty seawater that already lay there. Morelli himself was now on board the navy ship, his own cutlass drawn, and he sliced through the sailors, hacking them down one by one with his sword, which quickly became slick with blood. A sailor leapt at Morelli from behind, his bayonet ready to run Morelli through, but he did not get a chance. Silver had drawn his second pistol and fired, throwing the man off course, sending him falling into the ocean. Morelli simply gave him a thankful glance, not needing to say anyhting before rushing back into battle... (OOC: Hope that's ok for you, Kamuro, PM me if I need to change anything) [/size]

[size=1]The gun clicked internally as Lucifer pulled the hammer back, and Gabriel knew that a bullet was being turned so it was aiming down the barrel. "You've been a royal pain in my ass, Gabriel, and nothing would make me happier than to kill you right here and right now." He flicked the gun up and slid it back into its holster at his waist, "But I'm not going to. That would be very bad for my plan. I have use for you yet." He smiled at his prisoner, and then punched him in the face, a single blow which knocked Gabriel to the floor, blood splattering from his mouth onto the cold steel grill which made up the floor of this walkway. The blood dribbled through the grill and fell onto the floor below. Gabriel felt himself being dragged along the walkway and down the stairs, his gun taken away from him. He was bundled into the back of a black, unmarked van, which proceeded to drvie away... (OOC: Ok, you will need to come to the Demon's base and find someone to interrogate to find out my location. I will be PMing one of you with my location, and you will all have to come and find me) [/size]

[size=1]Gabriel crept around the building, keeping to the shadows. He occasionally passed through a pool of light, but not too often, as that hurt his head. It must have been something to do with the toxins he had been injected with. He would have to hide and hold out until his crew turned up, and who knew when that would be. He turned a corner, walking slowly along the metal walkway, making sure not to make any noise. Along the walkway, he saw two Demons, just standing there, their weapons drawn. He could not risk firing his weapon-the sound would alert too many people. He crept up to them, flicking the safety onto his gun, and stuffing the weapon into the back of his trousers. He grabbed the first, snapped his neck and sent him falling careening over the railing, falling silently to the ground below. The second had not noticed this, so Gabriel grabbed his arm, snapped it, then wrapped it around his neck and used the man's broken arm to snap his neck. The body slumped to the floor, and Gabriel carried on creeping away. As he turned the next corner, something took him by surprise. A gunshot rang out, almost hitting him, and he ran for the nearest spot of cover. He looked down to see a squad of Demons, lead by Leviathan, who held a sword, all aiming their battle rifles up at him. He kept his gun down his trousers, and put his hands into the air. "I surrender," he said, "Come and get me." Leviathan sent up half of his squad to grab Gabriel, and the rest stayed on the ground, their rifles still aimed at Gabriel. As the Demons came up onto the walkway, Gabriel turned to face them, his hands still in the air. He twisted his leg slighty, shifting its position, and something small and round, made of a hard plastic dropped to the floor. He lifted the leg of his trousers, and the object was revealed. It was a small, black plastic disc, which Gabriel proceeded to kick along the walkway, sending it skittering along towards the Demons. They looked down, but as soon as they looked up again, Gabriel had dived into cover. Then, the small disc exploded, blowing up half the walkway, and killing every Demon that had come up to find him. Gabriel ducked out of cover, and ran along the walkway, only to find himself facing the barrel of a revolver. It was aimed straight at his head. The man holding the gun was Lucifer. "I've been looking forward to this, Gabriel," he said, pulling the hammer back, ready to fire... [/size]

[size=1]Kraven was right behind Reoan as she rushed Lucifer, her sword drawn. His blades flashed through the air, cleaving towards Lucifer, but he was too quick. His longsword clashed with Kraven's blades, locking them together, and with a swift move, he dodged Reoan's lunge, her sword missing him by millimetres. Lucifer turned his block into an attack, throwing Kraven away with strength that his slight figure disguised. He smashed into the wall, and came away with chips of concrete flaking to the ground. He watched as Reoan slashed, Lucifer dodging with apparent ease, his suit not yet creased, or crumpled. The Morning Star had taught Reoan most of her fighting techniques, so he would know a lot of them. If only she could use some of the ones she had picked up during her time as a Guardian... Kraven leapt to his feet, and seemed to fly through the air towards Lucifer, one of his wings knocking the Morning Star to the floor. He fell, and rolled with the impact, landing on his feet, his sword still ready. Kraven attacked, his swords flashing in the dim light of the stairwell, and Lucifer's blade parrying the blows, blocking with ease. He brought up a foot, and kicked Kraven over the edge of the stairway. He fell down to the floor below, unable to open his wings fully in such a small space, and landed on his knees, cracking the concrete of the floor slightly. Above them Reoan fought hard against Lucifer, her sword clashing with his, sparks falling from their weapons to the floor. Kraven looked up at the battle, feeling that he was helpless to do anything, so he drew back one of his arms, and hurled his sword at the fighting pair, hoping for dear life that it would hit Lucifer and not Reoan. He heard a dull thud, and a groan, but he did not know which fighter it had hit... (OOC: Hope that's okay for you, DC) [/size]

[size=1](OOC: That's absolutely fine, Kitty) Gabriel grunted slightly as Levi poured the stinging alcohol all over his wounds, burning them but at the same time disinfecting them, making it less likely that they would become infected. His chest was bleeding badly, though, and that was the thing he was most worried about. If he lost too much more blood, he may pass out, and that was something he could do without. "Looks like you need some more pain, Gabriel," said Leviathan, throwing down his flask of whiskey, and picking something up from the floor, plugging it into a wall socket. "It'll take a minute," he said, smiling. Gabriel could only wonder what he had down there, just out of his sight, that was plugged in, and would only take a minute. "So, I can't believe the boss chose me to torture the great Gabriel. The one who has been such a pain in the ass to him. I would have thought he would want to do it himself." "Lucifer doesn't like getting his hands dirty. He prefers to let others do that for him. But you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Leviathan." "That's it," said Leviathan, looking as though he had had it. He walked over to the opposite corner of the room, and picked up a roll of duct tape. He walked over to Gabriel, pulled off a length of the tape, and stuck it over his mouth. "You don't get to talk any more, Gabriel!" he shouted, kicking Gabriel in the stomach, his foot colliding with Gabriel's wounds. Gabriel tried to cry out, but the tape muffled it. "Ah, look at that," said Leviathan, picking up whatever it was he had just put down, "The mighty Gabriel brought down by his own favourite method of torture." He revealed to Gabriel what he had in his hand. It was a soldering iron, red hot on the end. This was the weapon Gabriel used to use when interrogating suspects. When pressed against the skin, it burnt so badly, almost no-one could resist cracking. Leviathan walked up to Gabriel, and pressed the iron to his chest. The pain seared through Gabriel's body, burning him. He threw his head back, trying to scream, but the duct tape over his mouth did not allow that. Leviathan smiled, and withdrew the iron, this time poking it into one of Gabriel's already-painful wounds. This time he screamed so hard the duct tape ripped off his mouth, and the sound came out, clear as day. "I said, you aren't allowed to talk any more, Gabriel!" shouted Leviathan, taking a small length of bamboo, and shoving it into Gabriel's mouth, tying it around his head. He wouldn't be able to rip that off any time soon. Leviathan then proceeded to press the soldering iron onto Gabriel's soft, exposed flesh again and again, each time searing his body. He grunted, unable to scream because of his gag. Sweat dripped down his face, and blood dribbled down his chest. "Now, let's mix it up a little." Leviathan put the soldering iron away, and drew a syringe, full of a green, toxic-looking substance. He rammed the needle into Gabriel's neck, and unloaded a little of the substance into his veins. He grunted, then his breathing became shallower, and his eyes closed. His breathing slowed, and then stopped. Quickly, Leviathan drew another syringe, this one full of a blue substance, and injected a little of that into his bloodstream. He choked into life again, throwing up, but the gag did not allow the vomit to escape, instead it sprayed out from the sides of his mouth. Leviathan took the gag off for a moment, to let the vomit spill onto the floor. "We don't want you choking now, do we?" he said. Gabriel spat in his face. He wiped it off, shoved the gag back into his mouth and injected Gabriel again, this time with more of the green substance. He fell, and Leviathan woke him up again. He kept doing this, each time letting the vomit trail out of Gabriel's mouth and onto the floor. Finally, he dumped the entire load of the green substance into Gabriel's veins, causing his heart to stop. He injected a larger amount of the blue substance, but Gabriel wouldn't wake up. Leviathan slapped him, but he still wouldn't wake up. "Oh, shit," said Leviathan, untying Gabriel's hands, letting him drop to the floor, where Leviathan began chest compressions, pumping air into him through the mouth as well. Gabriel still wouldn't wake up, and at that moment, Lucifer walked slowly down into the cell. He saw Leviathan on the floor, giving Gabriel chest compressions, and his face turned bright red. "PLEASE DON'T TELL ME YOU'VE KILLED HIM, LEVI!" shouted Lucifer, "BECAUSE IF YOU HAVE, THEN I CANNOT BEGIN TO DESCRIBE HOW MUCH DAMAGE YOU HAVE DONE!" "I was just doing what you asked, and he didn't wake up again!" protested Leviathan, furiously punding on Gabriel's chest. Lucifer whirled round and stormed out of the room, walking up the stairs much faster than he had come down them. At that moment, Gabriel woke up, grabbed Leviathan by the throat, and headbutted him, knocking him unconscious. His nose was bleeding, but it was nothing too serious. Gabriel searched his body, got to his feet, and found a gun. He took it, checked the load, then headed upstairs, slowly, his bare feet slapping on the cold, hard concrete... (OOC: Phew, that was a long post. You lot are still coming to rescue me, even though I'm doing a pretty good job of escaping myself, by the way) [/size]

[size=1]Xander began walking around the complex, from the Residential area all the way through to the Research station. He loved to walk around the complex, seeing the simple concrete walls and the intricate metal tubing that ran across the ceiling. He would have loved to walk outside a lot more, but he had been told to stay inside, as he could cause damage outside. As he turned a corner, Xander bumped into one of his team-mates, and alien named Katz. Katz dropped whatever it was he was carrying, and Xander bent over to pick it up. "Hey, Katz, how's it going?" he asked, handing back the item Katz had dropped. Katz merely grumbled. "Speak up, mate, I can't hear you." "It's not too bad, Xander," replied Katz, "I've just dropped my weapon off with Fargoth to have it tempered. He's going to call me when it is finished." "Well, that's not likely to be for a while, is it? Why don't you come and train with me for a while?" "I don't know, Xander, I told Fargoth I'd be in my quarters, and I don't want to mislead him." "You're not going to mislead him, Katz, you'll be fine. Come on, let's go and have a training session, what do you say?" "Very well," replied Katz, sighing, "But not too long, alright?" "Fair enough." (OOC: Sorry, couldn't really think of much to write) [/size]

[size=1](OOC: It's time to inject a little action into the story...) The team regrouped outside the White House, and began walking to their vehicles. Their new associate, Colossus, could be of some help to them in finding the President's would-be assassins. [i]A figure watched them from the shadows, and was joined by another. They watched their new victims, and laughed together, the noise barely breaking through the air... [/i]Sparx flipped his leg over his motorbike, and kicked the engine into life. It roared, then spluttered and died. He had run out of fuel. He cursed and kicked the bike, knocking it over. Suddenly, a strange sound rang through the air from behind him, and he whirled around, only to see a foot come into contact with his face. He flew backwards, hitting the floor hard, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He sat up, spat out a mouthful of blood, and jumped to his feet. He looked around, but there was no-one around. The rest of the team ran to his sides, and began looking for the danger. Another of the strange sounds, and Trace flipped over, landing hard on his head, another, and Lily fell to the ground. "Of course," said Sparx, a thought suddenly dawning on him, "He's a teleporter. So if we can work out his pattern and disrupt it..." He turned to the others, and said: "Guys! Anyone who has energy-based powers, next time the teleporter appears, fire your energy into his teleportation field. If we overload it with enough energy, we may be able to short it out!" They waited, and waited, until the teleporter appeared again. "Now!" Sparx shouted, and as soon as the field appeared, every member of the team who had energy-based powers fired blasts of energy into the field. The teleporter screamed, and dropped to the floor. Sparx walked over to him. "You're not going anywhere, Joyride. You're gonna stay right there." But the assassin was smiling. "What the hell are you smiling at?" asked Trace, grabbing him by the collar. The teleporter indicated behind Trace, and as he turned around, a young woman rose up from the floor, and aimed her gun at Trace's head. "Let me and my associate go, or I pull the trigger," she said calmly... [/size]