Angellus Supremus

Types of Angels

Guardian- Guardian angels have an instinct to protect a certain group of people that is impossible to override. They could be assigned someone, they could grow attached to someone, or they could simply look at someone and know that they have to protect that person. The person/people that they protect they would give their lives for, and often times are killed protecting those they care about. Guardians have special abilities to help them protect their charges, and can either have The Sight or hide.

Messenger- Messenger angels can freely run between Heaven, Earth, and Hell, as well as take other angels or humans with them. Typically, a messenger will be assigned to an angel or a group of angels, or even join one of their own accord. Messenger angels have enhanced physical talents, such as speed or strength.

Warrior- Warrior angels are the most numerous of the angels. There is, quite literally an army of them. They feel no loyalty, except to God, and are as cold as ice. Warrior angels' tears can heal any wound, though they feel no pain or emotion, so getting the tears in the first place is a challenge.

Muse- a muse is an angel with the ability to inspire. They take joy in the smallest things in life and give inspiration and hope to those who need it most by encountering them in the most mediocre of places (a subway station, bus, waiting room) and lifts their spirits. Muses have the ability to inspire.

Fallen- Fallen angels are angels who have disobeyed the laws of Angellus Supremus and were cast out of Heaven. They can regain entry to heaven if they live 100 years with two angels who pronounce them repentant and do not break the laws of Angellus Supremus again. Fallen angels are not bound by the laws of Angellus Supremus, and possess the Devil's Kiss.

The Laws of Angellus Supremus

These laws are the laws that govern the lives of angels and allow them to keep their power should they obey.
-Do not murder (Note: killing an opponent in a war battle is excused, or killing out of self-defense)
-Do not have sex
-Do not drink alcohol or do drugs
-Do not lie
-Do not disobey orders


The Abilities

The Sight- the ability to see a person as who they truly are. For example, someone who is a bad person would appear as though having horns, or with black eyes, or a generally "frightening" or "demonic" appearance, whereas someone who was a good person might appear to have a glow.

Hide- an angel's ability to turn themselves and who they are guarding invisible while touching someone the angel is guarding.

Speed- an angel's ability to run/fly too fast for them to be seen.

Strength- the ability to lift objects beyond what is deemed possible (2 tons in excess)

Tears- Warrior angel's tears can heal any wound, so long as the victim hasn't died. However, warrior angels do not feel any emotion except remorse.

Inspire- the ability to lift a person's mood by being near them, or to give them an idea to help them out of a troubled time.

Devil's Kiss- the Fallen's ability to make a person do as the Fallen wishes for a full 24 hours after the victim has been kissed.

Code:

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Name
Age
Charge
Type
Bio
Vice

Characters:


Name: Asariel
Age: 10,299
Charge: n/a
Type: Fallen
Bio: Asariel was long ago bound as punishment for going to Lucifer to speak to his brother after he was kicked out of heaven. Asariel broke free of his bonds after some time, and joined the fallen of hell for centuries. He spends his days as a tempter of men, luring them into the vices of the devil and sin. Though, when he was Holy, Asariel was a Muse, inspiring poets, even other angels, to achieve their full potential.
Vice: Lust


“Therefore this is what I will do to you, Israel, and because I will do this to you, Israel, prepare to meet your God.”  Amos -  4:12
Name: Izael
Class: Warrior
Age: Approximately 4000
Charge: Asariel
Bio: Izael was brought into existence around 4000 years ago, for the sole purpose of smiting Sodom and Gamorrah. Over the years he has loyally brought all manner of disaster on earth under the orders of righteous retribution. Along with the destruction of the immoral twin cities, he is also credited with bringing about hurricane Katrina in the United States, the Tunguska Event in Russia, and the eruption of mount Vesuvius that destroyed Pompeii and Heraculaneum. Because of his feats, he has become known as one of the most powerful warrior angels, which has caused him to gain his vice of Pride.
Vice: Pride


Name: Atsel
Age: 9,000
Charge: "The Taskmaster" Formerly tended to the "dirty work" of those with more important jobs. Records keeping, running errands, delivering messages, etc.
Type: Fallen (Formerly Messenger)
Bio: Atsel (Hebrew for sloth) was once charged with one of the most mentally and physically exams ting jobs among his kind, largely due to his great intellect, however he saw it as an insult and thus grew prideful, rarely ever doing his job and instead using his wits to gain frivolous personal pleasures. Upon being discovered, he was exiled.
Vice: Sloth/Pride

Name: Doc Scratch
Age: Old beyond reckoning
Type: ???
Bio: A primordial entity, Doc Scratch is one of the oldest existing enemies of heaven. He represents 'strife' and 'change', and has, consistently, taken actions to worsen the world and thwart the actions of heaven.
Vice: Pretty much all of them, though Doc Scratch's SPECIAL vice would have to be malice.

Asariel was the life of the party that night. Come morning, he rested as king of the mountain of sweaty, exhausted bodies laying in their own sweat and semen from the drunken night of debauchery that soon turned into a drug-crazed orgy. He had piled the sleeping up like a throne and was using them much like a recliner as he took a long drag from his cigarette. The smoke cascaded over his full lips from his nostrils like a pleased dragon lord, and to those with the sight, he appeared more demonic dragon than former angelic Prince. He grinned as he surveyed his little kingdom, one of the women stirring slightly. She gave a weak, hazy smile to the prince, who tilted her head up by her chin to give her a slight kiss, "Be a dear," he commanded in his gentle, smooth baritone voice, "And kill everyone, dispose of the bodies, and kill yourself."
The woman nodded, and walked naked to the kitchen to retrieve a knife.

“Therefore this is what I will do to you, Israel, and because I will do this to you, Israel, prepare to meet your God.”  Amos - 4:12
Name: Izael
Class: Warrior
Age: Approximately 4000
Charge: Asariel
Bio: Izael was brought into existence around 4000 years ago, for the sole purpose of smiting Sodom and Gamorrah. Over the years he has loyally brought all manner of disaster on earth under the orders of righteous retribution. Along with the destruction of the immoral twin cities, he is also credited with bringing about hurricane Katrina in the United States, the Tunguska Event in Russia, and the eruption of mount Vesuvius that destroyed Pompeii and Heraculaneum. Because of his feats, he has become known as one of the most powerful warrior angels, which has caused him to gain his vice of Pride.
Vice: Pride

Accepted!

Izael grimaced as his feet touched down atop a building adjacent to his Charge's palace of pleasure, complete with its own thrown of debauchery. He could smell the sex from here. Izael's wings dispersed in a burst of feathers, retracting into his back while the feathers fell slowly through the air. He hopped down from the roof, not even bending a knee as he landed flat on his feet. He was dressed in khaki cargos, and had done away with his wife beater before he had taken flight, revealing the various tattoos covering his form, righteous vengeance being a predominant theme in the ink. He stepped up to the door to the kitchen, opening it and stepping inside. He watched as a slender, naked woman walked up to the cutlery, pulling a knife slowly from the wooden base. Izael walked up behind her silently, his left hand coming around her form to grasp her throat, closing tightly on her with a vice grip. His other hand held her wrist, making sure she wouldn't strike with the blade. He held her for a few moments until she lost consciousness, and he let her fall to the floor. He stepped over the sweaty, ravaged pile that was the girl before stepping into the main room. He looked around the room, not focusing on anything or anyone in particular as he took it in. He walked slowly around the furniture, picking up a syringe as he came before the pile of humans that served as Asariel's throne. He examined the syringe, turning it around in his hand before tossing it aside and exhaling in disgust, looking up at the fallen angel. "Asariel, I presume? You're reputation precedes you." Spoke the warrior, his voice deep and cold, sounding almost uninterested.

Asariel opened one eye, flicking his cigarette over his shoulder without a care, "And yours escapes me. So you are no one of consequence." He let his feet swing over the body that served as an arm, "You here to try and kill me too? As impressive as you try to make yourself appear, I'm confident that you'd lose the fight. I've been doing this for a long time." His hair fell back against his forehead, and a smirk crossed his lips, "And if you're one of those who came to join me, there's a whole host of souls who have exhausted their usefulness to me."

Name: Atsel

Age: 9,000

Charge: "The Taskmaster" Formerly tended to the "dirty work" of those with more important jobs. Records keeping, running errands, delivering messages, etc.

Type: Fallen (Formerly Messenger)

Bio: Atsel (Hebrew for sloth) was once charged with one of the most mentally and physically exams ting jobs among his kind, largely due to his great intellect, however he saw it as an insult and thus grew prideful, rarely ever doing his job and instead using his wits to gain frivolous personal pleasures. Upon being discovered, he was exiled.

Vice: Sloth/Pride

Accepted. Keep in mind, there will be a clear division between the Fallen and other types of angels on this thread.

Atsel crashed to earth with an unceremonious flop against the pavement, looking quite a bit more like a fallen drunk than a fallen angel. And drunk he was, with a liquid far more potent than what you would find on earth. The warrior angels, upon finding out he was now less than holy, found him in his home, passed out and groaning miserably. With his intelligence, he had quickly deduced that he was under suspision before hand, when people started acting different around him. He had fled to his home, with nothing left to do but drink. Ever so slowly, faint marks had begun appearing all over his body, and now that he was completely corrupt, his skin was black and white all over. Different angels corrupt in different ways after all. Perhaps it was god, showing his guilt for all to see, or lucifer, marking Atsel for his own, either way, he thought as he stumbled drunkenly from the scene, It was bound to happen sometime.

"I care little for the opinion of a fallen dredge." He said, listening to him go on before looking down at his tattoos. "My body is nothing more than a cover, or cloak. I've had far more impressive forms than this in times past." Spoke the angel. As Asariel finished, Izael simply sighed, before walking over to a chair and brushing off the orgy-related debris and drug paraphernalia. He sat, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasping together. "I am here for neither. Until I receive further instructions." He looked over at Asariel.

Asariel snorted, "A babysitter? That's one I haven't had sent after me before." He smirked, a dark, haunting look in his eyes that seemed to tug the soul from it's body to inspect it's content, "Are they finally bringing an army after me? Is that what this all is?" He snorted, laughing as he relaxed back on his throne, waving the angel off wordlessly. He pulled another cigarette from his jeans pocket and flicked his lighter, inhaling as the embers glowed orange where he lit.

Izael's shoulders shrugged before he sat straight up. "I haven't the slightest idea. I doubt an army is being amassed, however. I don't think it would take an army." He replied. He truly had no idea; when he was informed of his mission, he had not been given much in the way of details.

His wandering, lurching pace eventually led Atsel to a rather grandiose hotel on a nice street. He stumbles in through the revolving doors as an indignant hotel worker approached him "Sir, the laundry list of violations and infractions you have just brought upon yourself is more than enough to warrant imediate ejection from the premises, and that is with me being lenient!" As he stomped towards the naked figure of Atsel, he extended a drooping, lazy finger in his direction, pushing lightly on his forehead.
The man stiffens, pupils widening and hair standing on end briefly. He bows deeply. "How might I help you today?" Atsel looks down on him lazily "Take me to your nicest room, then fetch me a tailor. I require clothes." He pauses, a finger placed to his lips "And fetch me one of each item on your menu."

Asariel snorted, rolling his eyes, "I hope you don't plan on keeping me here, child. I have places to be, people to kill... These folks for example." He stood, a nonchalant waver in his posture as he pulled a knife from his back pocket and twirled it around his fingers, "The real question is will you stop me? Your god tends to see not interfering as the same as guilt on occasion."

Izael shrugged his shoulders again, standing up afterwards. "I have no where to take you. Where else could you possibly have to be?" Spoke the angel, though it was much closer to a disinterested statement than a legitimate question. He paced around idly, tapping various bits of trash or articles of clothing out of the way. He walked up to the pile, lightly kicking one of the unconscious bodies' arms. "On occasion. I wasn't told to do much to stop you." He looked down at the body he was nudging with his foot. "Though it doesn't look as though you've got much left to do to them..."

"I planned on killing them" He nodded to the kitchen, "But it seems you... dispatched my girl." A laugh passed the fallen angel's lips, "Should I make another? What would your god have you do then, hmm? Would you kill an innocent to keep me here?" he asked, testing the waters, looking for a reaction.

Izael grimaced. He didn't enjoy the fallen angel prying at his intentions, or morals for that matter. A dreadful feeling washed over him as he contemplated the future of his mission with the degenerate beast before him. He didn't see himself enjoying it much; though as a Warrior Angel, he enjoyed little, his demeanor stuck in an alien passiveness and nonchalance. Emotions were a fleeting matter to them, for the most part. "I did." He confirmed. "Should you? Are you asking permission, or my opinion?" He asked, frowning as he paused a short moment. "Either way I give you neither. You will know what my God will have me do once I have done it."

"Is that your way of saying you wish to fight me?" Asariel challenged with a smirk, teeth flashing like daggers in the early morning light, "Warrior or not, I am much, much older than you and I'm most certain that you would lose. With our kind, age brings power unrivaled." He taunted, hands outstretched in some grotesque mockery of a crucifix.

Izael grimaced, glowering at the fallen angel as he tested and prodded him. "It is my way of saying you should shut up." He replied, lips pressed hard together into a flat line. "If you are so intent on provoking me into a fight, you may as well just strike me." He advised, his patience wearing thin with Asariel's gloating and taunts.

Asariel chuckled, "Well, it seems I might not have to keep you distracted much longer anyways. My master calls." he winked, glancing down and smirking wickedly, pointed teeth flashing like a shark's. His finger pointed downward as he stretched his wings, large, black, and pressing against the walls of the room like he was fit to make it burst, "So, I have places to be, if you don't mind."

(So, talked it over with Bey, here's my app)

Name: Doc Scratch
Age: Old beyond reckoning
Type: ???
Bio: A primordial entity, Doc Scratch is one of the oldest existing enemies of heaven. He represents 'strife' and 'change', and has, consistently, taken actions to worsen the world and twart the actions of heaven.
Vice: Pretty much all of them, though Doc Scratch's SPECIAL vice would have to be malice.

Izael's eyes stayed fixed on the fallen angel, a grimace on his lips as his charge told him that he intended to leave. Izael had been instructed to stay close; though he would tail the wretch from a distance. Whether he were meeting with his master or not, Izael was tiring of his company. His mission would be an arduous one; he only wish he knew the entirety of it. "I don't; keep in mind, however, I won't be far behind."

Asariel laughed, "Trust me, where I'm going, you won't be able to follow." he taunted. "Not to mention, I'm fairly sure I'm much faster than you. You finding me here in the first place was little more than a fluke, and I'm not quite in the mood to kill you at the moment." he admitted, playing with the skull ring on his finger.

Accepted.

"Fairly sure sounds uncertain." He pointed out. Izael shook his head at the fallen angel's words, rather resolved in his faith of a master plan. "There are no flukes, Asariel. There is no such thing as coincidence. There is a reason behind everything." He told him, sighing slightly before stepping back, looking around the room again. "Go, already. If I cannot keep up, I'm sure we will cross paths again very soon."