@pyrogram: Frankly I'm still processing it, I already knew a new character would come into it but I expected like Eternity, Glactus (maybe), Hell even Ghost Rider or Blade but... I never thought they'd ever try this again. XD
AmazingAngel's forum posts
Okay and it's up (finally). Apologies to everyone I kept waiting while I sorted my changing schedule out, I reeeaaly don't wanna kill the momentum of this RP and promise I'll do my best to make my posts more timely and better in general.
Also if the ending was a little confusing (writing this as 2 AM)
- Angel got his neck ripped open and then healed it.
- He got kicked in the chest, off the skyscraper.
- Attached a hook and chain he made out of his staff to a communication tower and spun back around.
- Caught the energy orbs in his gun and fired them back at the shooter as non lethal concussion shots
- Got his arm taken off by the rail gun.
- Dropped his pistol to the floor (like really far down)
- Managed to heal from that (barely due to the nano machines and fire, which will cause more problems later)
- Is continuing on with his flying kick to Valken's chest.
The sudden shock of a well place strike to a vulnerable area, the incredible force able to slice through human flesh like a well maintained blade, he knew this was a trap but he wasn't on his guard, almost like he wanted to take the first hit, wanted to see how much he could handle... Then he could return the favour.
The strike tore through the faux flesh wrapped around his ethereal innards, nearly decapitating him in the drop of a hat, beams of blinding white light shone from the open wound as his head dangled from the few strands of skin and muscle, beaming into the sky like a searchlight. With his right hand he grasps a hand full of his thick bushy hair and drags his hanging head to it's anatomically conventional position, the incredible glare hums to a dull glow as his 'skin' begins to reattach itself, white shimmering strand by strand. Fully repaired he turn his face toward the pseudo patriot, wrinkling his brow and narrowing his eyes, glaring furiously, tonight he was in no mood to get murdered.
"You're gonna have to do a lot better than that."
Angel raised his staff to his chest, preparing to launch his own counter offensive, malforming the shapeless weapon into either a small dagger or a large club, he hadn't quite decided on which yet. Suddenly a unique sound began to enter his ears, separating itself from honking horns and yelling crowds of the metropolitan jungle, a sound that as a self proclaimed 'Angel' he should have been able to recognise instantly, the sound of flapping wings. Catching the rapidly advancing winged predator out of the corner of his eye he was left with little time, instinctively the Angelic anarchist attempted to alter his staff into a makeshift shield, the half baked concoction proved less than successful at absorbing the force of the oncoming strike from what seemed like a mace.
Sent flying off the building by the powerful blow Angel considers formulating a battle plan, did he want to capture his attackers or simply immobilise them long enough to make a confident escape, would he call for help or does he feel confident in his abilities to dispatch them on his own or maybe he'd just throw caution to the wind and ditch the plan all together... yeah that last one seems more his style. Now the Masterful Mystic needed a way back to the tall skyscraper, an opportunity to hit back at his 'amateurish' attackers, crafting his powerful magic stick into a gravelling hook attached to an unbreakable white chain, he wraps it around the buildings communications relay with a well time swing and throw, the chain suddenly tightens twirling him back around to the skyscraper.
The Plucky Paladin prepares for his next move, strengthening the muscles and bones in his legs to better absorb the impact of the eventual clash with the birdman's armoured chest protection. *WHOOSH WHOOSH WHOOS* The sound of short flurry of destructive energy orbs blasted his ears out like the horn of an oncoming motor, compromising his entire thrown together attack strategy, whilst still floating in mid air the Angel manages to twist himself a full one hundred and eighty degrees, catching the unexpected orbs in his multi function spiritual sidearm and systematically reprogramming and redistributing them back to his attacker as his own non-lethal concussion orbs.
*CLUNK CLUNK* *WHAP!!* Okay maybe this next attack would have been the better 'dear in the headlights' metaphor. Suddenly the Divine Defender could feel his grip loosening on his Heavenly Blunderbuss... actually he couldn't feel any grip at all, he gazes down at the gaping hole in his chest and the stump where his arm used to be, whatever that last weapon was it had been fast enough to catch him off guard and more importantly lost him his only long ranged means of attack, something he had a feeling he'd need in this what seemed like a five on one assault. He began to rapidly regrow his lost organs and appendages as he continues his 'liu kang' style flying kick to the winged warrior's chest.
...Although come to think of it the healing process was taking a lot longer then usual, almost as if his internal anatomy was attempting to combat a combined assault of both highly intelligent nano machines and his entire molecular system combusting in a matter of seconds, he could tell this was gonna be a long night.
Five Days Before the First Battle, The Aftermath Of The Shower.
The citizens of that minuscule Texas town had managed to slip through the fingers of the chaos that had gripped them during the freak natural disaster, they watched in awe as wolves and hares walked side by side with one another, almost as if commanded by some ethereal power. Some wondered about the gaunt chalky man in the dusty white coat, who slammed against their doors like a bailiff, screaming of the 'death from the sky'. Was he their saviour or just a vagrant with a keen eye? Whatever they thought him as the involuntarily elusive Angel was long gone, on the trail of another mysterious man, to answer some of his many questions.
"I know what you are!" He spoke harshly and directly to the mysterious bartender with the mouldy green moustache, searching the wreckage earlier he found no trace of the mysterious tavern he'd 'been to before', something about those words he remembered, something about that place, like it was new and old at the same time but he just couldn't put his finger on why. The southern barkeep stopped at the Angel's words, tilting his head enough to see him through the corner of his bloodshot eyes, "Go on..." The stranger uttered in his thick southern drawl, whisky breath staining the air around them. Angel suddenly withdrew from his stance of raging determination, defeated by his own carelessness yet again "...Well I don't really have a solid answer right now but...", The Stranger cuts him off "Reckless as usual, you'd have been better spying on me from the rooftops and gaining information then all this cavalier bullsh!t"
The Supernatural Savant cuts off the old bartender, "Whatever you are I know you're powerful... powerful enough to know I was following you... and powerful enough to get the hell out of here whenever you want, just like your bar did, almost like you wanted me to follow you." The bristled old man squints his eye and turns his head toward the Angel, not fully but enough to engage in eye contact. "You're more astute then he gives you credit for..." but before the Hero of Heaven is able to relieve more of his confusion the strange man takes off again, meandering through narrow corridors and dank alleyways dripping with fresh rain, his pace seems slow and aimless but Angel struggles to keep up, even at a sprinting pace. "HEY! HEY WHERE ARE YOU GOING!"
A few sharp turns, a few forks in the path, the sudden thunderstorm blinding him, the stranger was lost in the concrete maze of the southern city, yet again he'd have to figure all of this out on his own, always the hard way. Suddenly the subtle click of a key in a locked door sent a jolt through the Hero's body, he turns to see the stranger one more time, fiddling with an ornate copper coloured key in an old heavy entrance, Angel approaches slowly as he feels the location's strange aura seeping through the cracks.
The door swings open...
"...Now this place I remember"
Whirring, spitting, clunking, crashing, crackling, this new arena wasn't exactly the more serene of locations he'd fought in but the battle weary hero was nothing if not advantageous, especially when his life depended on it. The Supernatural Savant strolled casually through the seemingly endless corridors of rusted machines, clicking and clacking his italian shoes against the dull concrete floor, the bright hanging lights gave not room for shadow, an even fight was something he couldn't afford to draw his opponent into, he'd have to rely on the darkness.
The master control panel wasn't exactly difficult to find, following the yellow wall until he found an idiot proofed fuse box, he decided against turning off any of the individual machines, the increased noise would be a detriment to his opponent but not him, see Angel was kind of an abstract entity, no physical form, only his extremely malleable spirit tied to his two trusty tools, his eyes were synthetic, his ears phoney but his spirit was real and it could see perfectly fine in the darkness, hear through the madness and feel the presence of a living soul.
After shutting off the lights he began to seek out one more distraction, something that'd take the focus off of him while making his opponent a slightly brighter, louder and more confused target. "The hell does this place even make?" He remarked, coming across a large metallic waste bin, brimming with disused mannequins, simple enough plan for a battle tested detective such as himself, place the plastic props around corners and in obscured locations, about twenty would be the perfect number for the immediate area, find a suitable hiding place, preferably with a lid to lie under until your opponent makes himself known...
...and pray to the Heavens he isn't a f#cking Ninja...
Result of Continued Exposure to Foreign Universe, Extended Use of Ethereal Vision