Alexander Kassabian

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Alexander Kassabian

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Partially clothed in matching black leather fetish attire the voluptuous associates of Mr. Kassabian muscled the hand of an unfortunate soul onto the executive desk top of their benefactor. Rising from his seat while straightening his Roberto Cavalli tie cranking his neck in an effort to release the built of tension, the pale faced HFC consigliere repositioned the already subdued hand. "It isnt the money, I need you to understand that. Its the principle." his voice boomed. Then without warning and disturbing violence the panic stricken man's hand exploded. Blossoming into a mushroom cloud of bones and red paste as Mr. Kassabian's granite strengthened fist utterly destroyed the appendage with a single strike. Sending the man into immediate shock falling to the floor clutching his wrist staring at the view strands of flesh still dangling from where his hand had been moments earlier. "Get him out of my sight." he ordered. Returning to the mountain of paperwork and researching the clubs latest editions.

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Alexander Kassabian

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Alexander Kassabian

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The Sixty Six legions of Ba'al knelt before him with enthusiastic devotion. Crimson hued eyes, ears rising to a point, teeth stained with the devoured flesh of the innocent, all peering back at the golden armored archangel as he manifested himself before them in the forbidden form of a man. But only in appearance did Lucifer's top general reassemble God's favored creation, one of many impending abominations ushering in the age of the fallen. His hawk faced helmet wedged between the crease of his massively exaggerated bicep while clutching the supernatural mace crafted by the Devils Blacksmith, he whispered but a single word, "Fetch." The command emancipating the wraith of a thousand forsaken demons and angels alike. Systematically searching out the few who had dared ingratiate themselves in the impeding conflict. One in particular impassioned individual posed a detrimental threat as Ba'al's dream like premonitions captured futuristic images of a modern day messiah, a sure hearted shepherd, instinctively influenced to protect the runaway vessel at any cost. His powers, all be them formidable, lacked in comparison when measured against his faith driven resolve. Aided by the fabled "Book of Loyalty" the presidential hopeful, Atticus Blaire, had already become to instill the general public with a sense of confident convection in not only his ability to lead but the ability to ward off the darkness. In a game of hearts and minds the young would be savor had captivated both. Thus becoming a priority target for Alexander's minions.

Additional forces were sent to confront the growing magic presence building in Japan, more precisely, the Nakamura Empire. Who's ecliptic congregation of magical authoritative beings had begun implementing their own mystical maneuvers. If left unchecked, they would prove to be an unstoppable force. But Ba'al himself had designated himself another matter entirely. Having failed in the execution of the lone hero Ethan Starks, his Lilith edict Leviathans having meet their unexpected demise, Ba'al had taken it upon himself to deal with the redemption seeking former assassin himself. Blasting through the roof of the dilapidated remains of the Church of Arrow, the archangel set himself upon the unsuspecting avenger. His massive wings and unparallelled speed delivering him almost instantaneously above his prey before attack. His outstretched hand magically producing a golden rod as his body was leveled out perfectly in a single gust inflated flap of his extensions, the metallic battle coated sheath across his wings directing the suns blinding light towards Ethan's face. Leaving nothing but a shadowed silhouette poised to strike in the eclipsed beam of interrupted sun light.

"You fall here, hero. Your story has already been authored and the fates are my inkwell"

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Alexander Kassabian

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ShadowKnight & Metaclore
ShadowKnight & Metaclore
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Alexander Kassabian

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"Conductors of this play slowly gathering throughout the World signal my masters imminent return." A gargled rasp tainted voice hissed softly while somewhere off in the distance a harmonic melody from an opened music box filtered through the small suburban home just south of the River Isar in Munich Germany. But inside resided the ghastly scene of an unforgivable degradation of a once vibrant father, mother, and daughter. Their blood stained screams painted a horrific picture of their tortuous ordeal covering the walls, banisters, floors, and ceiling. A Masochistic masterpiece of the macabre was all that was left of a once bright and loving family unit. "Forces are moving with accelerated purpose as they aim to position themselves in calculated machinations. The Dragon of Death is near, Hell's stench resonates from the absences of his violated soul. A valuable weapon in waiting perhaps." Again the Archangel's words floated through the air absorbed by a nothingness as if consumed by the shadows themselves. His exaggerated frame perched atop the back of a wooden chair with perfect balance crouched down like an over sized bird.

Twirling round and round the crimson speckled ballerina spun as its once beautifully cared for container laid partially destroyed on the floor. Just inches away from the lifeless hand of the young girl the Fallen Angel Baal had mistakenly targeted as Lucifers would be vessel, thus tragically sealing her fate. "Vatican chaos will have seen them unleash their assassins and others are sure to follow. Impressive is the one they call Impero, though his choice will usher in a damnation of his own creation. No, even if they are successful in recovering the Cotillard bloodline it will only serve to betray their mission in the end. But there is another who must be accounted for." Pausing as if listening to an unheard voice before continuing, "He has a compendium though its power prevents me from understanding its potential. And the wildcard, Ethan Starks...........his soul is conflicted, if.....if we are able to turn him then humanities last hope will be ultimately be its undoing."

Suddenly the music stopped causing Baal to violently whip his head exposing his heart stopping horror of a face. Its white bone like exterior highlighting his illuminated red eyes as they reflected the full moon beaming through the bay window. Focusing on the snaking trail of blood carrying through the living room towards the back and the strenuous grunts of the brave little girl desperately clinging to life as she fought with everything she had to pull herself towards the rear door. "Such spirit!" The angel mocked with a theatrical tone. With little effort he stepped down from his perch and followed the child, even stopping to open the door for her. But like a massive bird of prey his over-sized talons unmercifully impaled her back gripping her tiny frame with bone crushing force before taking flight. His search for the propheciezed child continuing

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Alexander Kassabian

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@Rina_Redhead: Luv your av and thanks :)

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Alexander Kassabian

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Alexander Kassabian

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Transylvania had become hauntingly silent in recent days as families refused to venture outside choosing instead to remain behind sealed and locked doors. The recent influx of mysterious strangers arriving daily coinciding with numerous unexplained deaths and disappearances adding to the notoriously infamous tourist destination's stoic history. They had come from everywhere and nowhere, clawing their way out from the shadowy nightmares of the innocent to come and worship at the House of the Fallen.   
 
Standing outside the residence of the last surviving preacher still remaining in Transylvania, Alexander Kassabian, a once promising member of the Vatican's archeological research team in the Middle East turned Dark Priest of the Ninth Seal, gazed through the slight crack in the window shades at the innocently naive child filled with curiosity. Slowly turning his masked face towards the door and then back again, not a word need be spoken as the memorized child ventured over lifting the lock before opening the door to his families own demise.... 
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Alexander Kassabian

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@Surkit: Right? lol

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Alexander Kassabian

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His cameo fatigued pants blended in perfectly with the corresponding trees underlining the cliff beneath the newly established fortification. Gracefully advancing from branch to branch despite the absences of his left hand lost during combat. Known to many as Alexander he is known by only one name to Kazraian, The First Arashikage.