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Post by Hadassah on Jan 15, 2024 14:46:38 GMT -5
Once Hadassah crossed the log, she waited a moment for Azazel to join her, studying him for signs of exhaustion after that performance. She felt both impressed and disappointed that she saw no such signs on his face. He carried this log like it was nothing. Either he’s more powerful than I’m imagining, or he’s doing very well at hiding his effort. “Are you alright? Sorry about your clothes, but I’m sure you'd have no trouble finding some clean ones.” At that last statement, she couldn’t help but flash an innocent smile.
As Azazel joined her on the boulder and began along the path, her mind started to wander as she imagined what the limits of Azazel’s strength might be. She glanced over her shoulder at the log she’d crossed, trying to calculate its weight by appearance, which she quickly found to be a waste of time. She was so deep in thought, that she didn’t notice that Azazel had stopped in his tracks until she’d nearly walked straight into him. She tilted her head in question as he began to speak in a much more serious tone, her eyebrows furrowing with concern as he struggled to find the words.
As he went on, Hadassah’s lips pursed while she processed the situation. Of course, she was concerned about her safety, but she wanted to believe that she would still be safe around Azazel. Even so, the suggestion that she might think less of him for some reason was concerning to her. For the first time since they’d been marching together in the swamp, she began to wonder if she might be better off turning around. No, I’m not going to quit now. He’s right, I can handle myself and if it becomes an issue later on, at least I can say I helped and walk away with a clear conscience.
She quickly frowned as Azazel reached out to her, only to turn away. If she knew him better, maybe she would have taken his hand in her own to comfort him. Alas, she did not know him well, and knew better than to touch strange men. Especially strange men with incredible strength and strange power.
“Well,” Hadassah started, swallowing lightly as she followed behind him. “I appreciate you telling me, I’m sure it will be just fine. Is there anything I can do at all to help? Anything else I should know?” She wasn’t quite sure exactly what she might help with, but she thought it might be nice to ask, if not to at least alleviate any awkwardness she may have been giving off.
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Post by Azazel, the Godsdeath on Jan 16, 2024 11:38:52 GMT -5
Having recovered from his bout of manic triumph, Azazel turned around to favor the girl with a look of practiced fondness: one that was at least partially genuine. It was rare to find a mortal willing to help and expressing concern after receiving such disturbing news, especially in light of his evident strength.
"You're a real dear for asking, Hadassah, but no, unfortunately, there is nothing to be done. This is my affliction to deal with, and I'll not burden you with watching what I am unable to. I will bind myself with strictest directives not to harm you, or any innocents we may find, but maybe.... Maybe don't stand to close, eh?" The demon in mortal flesh offered a weak impish smile.
Something about the girl prompted a most unusual emotion for the manipulation demon: compassion. Perhaps it was her unique blend of compliance and defiance: accepting him with playful jests without fawning over him as so many mortals did under his pressing influence. Perhaps it was a product of the environment, or finding something akin to an unexpected flower in a desolate place, making it all the more precious. Perhaps it was none of these things: merely a flight of whimsy that had taken hold of a being spawned of the roiling mortal emotions of interpersonal exchange.
Whatever the case, as the pair approached the perimeter of their target, Azazel bound his subservient tighter than was his custom, for her sake.
As combat is expected ahead, you'll be given the reigns Arteronael. You will not engage in the sort of wanton barbarity that you are accustomed. You will not harm the girl or any others that she may deem innocent. You will end the criminals swiftly and cleanly, limiting suffering.
Far from the gnashing and grumbling that was expected, Arteron hummed in something akin to amusement, even still reeling from the mention of his true name, disturbingly lucid despite the proximity of combat. Azazel didn't like it.
Any other orders? Shall I whisk her away like a fairytale princess when I have finished rescuing her from foul bandits? You'll refrain from further comments on the matter.
The vessel's scowl from Azazel's irritation gave way to an unsettling grin as Arteron stalked forward toward his prey.
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Post by Hadassah on Jan 20, 2024 8:59:38 GMT -5
Hadassah nodded, her face still wrinkled with concern. She couldn’t imagine what this affliction might be, or how Azazel came to be with such an affliction. She still felt unsure of what she’d gotten herself into, and whether or not she should be afraid. “Of course,” she said softly after a moment. “Maybe when this is over and done with, if you feel comfortable enough to share, we could get to know each other a little better. I’m sure you must have plenty of interesting stories to tell.” Including this “curse” I’m about to witness. Surely it can’t be that bad.
Hadassah knew that she should probably feel more afraid of Azazel, especially being a young woman travelling alone with…whatever it is he would soon become. Her nature was to trust him, and even if he did hurt her, she would want to see only the best in him, but was that realistic? If he did turn on her, would she be able to fight him on her own? I know I’m overthinking this…I’ll just keep my distance like he said and all will be well. As they finally began to approach their destination, Hassadah took in a deep breath and began to mentally and physically prepare herself for what would be coming next. “Do you have a plan by chance, or are we winging this?” Hadassah asked, noticing that Azazel seemed focused on something or was otherwise deep in thought.
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Post by Azazel, the Godsdeath on Jan 20, 2024 19:16:42 GMT -5
Arteron's displeasure at being halted from his goal, yet again, manifested itself on the puppet's face in the form of a scowl. The wrath demon was careful not to let his emotions show any more than that, however. For whatever reason, Azazel was being very particular about this mortal girl. He turned around to regard the human with a critical, imperious gaze.
No exceptional show of musculature. Body toned and trained but not pushed. Pretty, as mortal go, but not uncommonly so. The hangers on at the inns are far more appealing than this one. Why then do you find favor with her?
Arteron's question would go unanswered, for Azazel's custom of falling to a state of semi-consciousness whenever he took control of the puppet. The dispassion on Arteron's face would be replaced by a sickly-sweet smile.
"The plan, girl, is for you to stay out of my way, as was already expressed to you. Tend to the bugs if you want to be useful. Don't be a hero, and don't die. For some reason, the other has a liking for you."
The change from Azazel's cultivated, honeyed tones to Arteron's gruff bluntness was certainly a shock, but time would need to be secured later for consideration, as the bandits' alarm bells were being raised upon the sentries spotting the pair within view of the camp. Grinning manically, Arteron turned back to his target, his prey, as he called upon the demonic powers of war to infuse himself: growing in size to the height of three men and causing his already impressive, if somewhat muted, musculature to multiply and expand unnaturally [Berserker, Berserker's Rage] [Intimidating Presence].
Far too quickly, a double-bladed sword was in the demon's hand, as blackened bat wings erupted with a shower of flesh from his back, great leathery appendages that blotted out the filtered sunlight [Fiend, Harbinger of Evil]. With a mighty flap, Arteron flew quickly towards the opponents already lining up for the slaughter, crashing into them like a charging bull, every slash of his sword cleaving multiple men [Berserker, Sweeping Fury]. Despite the demon's obvious skill with the sword, he made no effort to defend against the counterattacking blows, each of them clattering harmlessly off of him as if they were now more than twigs against him [Berserker, Hardened Force].
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Post by Hadassah on Jan 31, 2024 13:48:47 GMT -5
As Azazel turned to face her, a mild shiver shot down Hadassah’s spine at the man’s gaze. She wasn’t quite sure what she felt at that moment, but she thought it might have been fear, though there was nothing yet to be afraid of. Again, those eyes, she thought. Before meeting Azazel, Hadassah felt at least relatively confident in her ability to read people, if only to know whether or not she was in good company. But as she paused, her eyes scanning the features of Azazel’s face, she finally began to accept the fact that this man was difficult, if not impossible for her to read. At times he seemed a lovely person, and perhaps someone she would maintain a friendship with. At other times, something about him, his face or perhaps his eyes, or the tone of his voice set off alarms within her sensitive spirit. This was one of those times. Hadassah bit her tongue as Azazel addressed her, her mind racing as she processed the strange words. If it wasn’t for the look the man was giving her, she might have dared to ask for clarification, particularly on that last statement. She figured this was a result of the affliction Azazel mentioned, if not just regular irritation. This isn’t the time to be offended, I’m used to this by now, I should know better. Hadassah simply gave Azazel a curt nod and kept silent. Her heart raced and pounded against her chest as the man transformed in a gruesome manner, a blade appearing in his hand. She bit down harder in her tongue, swallowing her mix of fear, confusion, and concern as he flew toward the camp to attack. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, Hadassah returned her focus to her own magic, her feelings of fear and confusion gradually leaving her body with each exhale. Quickly forming a spear of solid ice, Hadassah hurled the spike at her target, the muscles in her arm rippling with the force before the ice hit its mark. Without missing a beat, Hadassah drew more water to herself, a large wall of water swelling and growing before her. With an effortless push, the wave she’d created hurtled toward a group of enemies, crashing against them as solidly as a concrete wall. Just keep breathing, she reminded herself as her heart rate continued to increase. - Create Water
- Ice Spike
- Water Wave
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Post by Azazel, the Godsdeath on Jan 31, 2024 16:13:16 GMT -5
Whatever the concerns of the mortal girl were, Arteron had no concern for him. In the established blood pact, he reigned in times of conflict, and as long as the wrath demon did not test the boundaries placed by Azazel, the manipulation demon would remain asleep, unable to intercede until the bloodshed was finished.
Arteron growled at the invading thought of the foolish girl coming in range without his knowledge and finding herself bisected by his blade. Consideration for the mortal, hells, what an awful phrase, prevented the wrath demon from losing himself in the simple joy of carnage as was his wont. The blood he bathed in was not pure, from mindless slaughter. No, this was a simple matter of the laws of this world causing blood to spray as he cut it so. Such orchestrated combat felt alien and wrong. It reeked of him and Arteron imagined the manipulation demon grinning in his sleep.
Uncaring of affecting the mortal girl, the wrath demon let out a bloodcurdling scream that sent shivers through the blood of every living thing around him [Berserker, Blood Cry]. Arteron smiled as he saw the puny mortal criminals fleeing like so many rats before him. Perhaps he would get some enjoyment from the chase, at least.
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Post by Hadassah on Feb 4, 2024 11:56:58 GMT -5
Remaining cautious of her distance from the winged warrior, Hadassah continued her attack on the enemies closest to her. This was her first time using magic in a true battle since she learned to control it, and the stress and excitement of it all made focusing difficult. Breathe. She couldn’t catch her breath in time as she was approached, her magic seeming to fizzle out between her fingers as her concentration was completely broken. That didn’t mean she couldn’t return to her roots for the time being. I will work on my focus and breathing later.
Hadassah landed every strike with intended flow and ease, and her opponents fell, their noses bleeding, their faces bruised, and the air knocked out of them as their heavy bodies hit the ground. She kept light on her feet, and moved with purpose, to strike or dodge as necessary. Finding a window of rest, Hadassah risked a glance at Azazel, watching for a moment as his blade sliced and cut through the enemy. The deaths of his opponents were quick and bloody. Hadassah wondered how many people someone would have to kill to be used to such a thing. At this point in her life, she was used to hurting people, first learning to fight with her hands and her feet, then with ocean magic, though she still had much to learn and practice. She could handle blood, and she could handle pain. But she was still not quite used to death, and as her eyes remained glued on her companion, her stomach twisted. If this is him holding back then…
Hadassah flinched violently at Azazel’s blood cry, her hands clapping over her ears as she cringed and grit her teeth. It was a sound that she’d never heard before and the feeling that lingered afterwards was even worse. She trembled as the remaining men fled in response, and Hadassah’s heart pounded with the intense desire to do the same. Against her impulses, she stood her ground, her eyes wide with fear and surprise. 1. Bare Hands
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Post by Azazel, the Godsdeath on Feb 5, 2024 17:04:23 GMT -5
Arteron's visage twisted in evil glee, seeing the puny mortals flee in terror before him. As the warrior reached his hand back, readying himself to throw his dual blade in a deadly arc, his body seized up with a burning pain. Words in an ancient language from a time long ago echoed like a ringing accusation in the berserker's head, driving him to his knees.
A stricture broken is a contract voided. Foolish betrayer, suffer well the consequences of your treacherous actions.
Arteron howled in pain as a searing heat burned through his head, rousing the manipulation demon. The wrath demon's last thoughts drifted to the mortal girl.
Stupid mortal must have been in range. Damn you to hells for wording your contract so loosely, Azazel! Oh now, don't hate a deal that you agreed to, darling. If you'd only been a bit more careful, you'd still be free to play...
The wrath demon's screams of frustrated torment were quickly bottled as he was temporarily banished. The mortal vessel shrunk back to human size, retracting the leathery wings within itself as Azazel clambered to his feet. He looked around with a mixture of disgust and disinterest, scanning for Hadassah.
As he found the girl trembling and covering her ears, he quickly made his way over. Azazel placed gentle hands on her shoulder murmuring in a consoling tone. "I'm sorry, dear. It's over now."
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Post by Hadassah on Feb 10, 2024 16:46:17 GMT -5
It was embarrassing to Hadassah to be seen in such a position. It was in her bloodline to fight and defend, no matter the cost. She’d come from great warriors and fearless leaders, and yet here she was, trembling and afraid. Disgusted by the bloodshed and the death, when her father would have been surrounded by it and was accustomed to it. How ashamed he would be to see me like this. She chuckled to herself at the thought, but a twinge of pain was hidden behind it. This is why I left home; to grow and to learn. As her mother would have said, growth is uncomfortable.
Willing herself to be calm, Hadassah took deep, purposeful breaths through her nose before parting her lips to exhale steadily. She bent over and pressed her palms against her thighs, feeling her knees and legs shaking beneath her as the sound of howling filled her ears. She closed her eyes, imagining a peaceful, sunny day near the ocean. She imagined her smiling mother as she stroked Hadassah’s hair, her eyes tired, yet content as they enjoyed the sounds of crashing waves together. Though these images were joyful, Hadassah’s heart continued to hammer against her ribs in fear. She grunted in frustration as her body continued to disobey her mind. I must calm down, there’s nothing to be afraid of. He said he wouldn’t hurt me, she reminded herself. With each exhale, Hadassah’s body began to gradually relax and soon the trembling stopped, to her relief.
Feeling Azazel’s gentle touch on her shoulder, Hadassah opened her eyes and felt immediately grateful that her companion was standing before her, wingless, normally sized, and calm. Hadassah smiled weakly and nodded, trying to ignore the lifeless bodies that surrounded them and the blood that speckled Azazel’s face. “I’m alright,” she said abruptly, holding Azazel’s gaze. “So, what’s the plan now?”
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