Blood of The Father

[Final Warrior]

((Hehe. THese Avatars are special. They change. And everyone will have to face all seven Sins. At least, that's what I had in mind. It's all up to Vox.))

Raphael dropped down from the crushed face of the false, Avatar, looking around. And then he saw it. The world slowed down, and everyone, even V'kleta, moved as though they were batlting in Del'vahir gelatin. At that moment, Raphael could have slain every demon, every monster, every Avatar, and his allies as well.

But he didn't. instead, all he saw was the figure standing across the battlefield. The only one, other than Raphael, that moved at normal speed. The figure was cloaked in pure Night, with blood-stained tear drops adorning its armor. Its hood was up, but Raphael knew who he was facing.

"Death Incarnate."

"The Final Warrior."

Raphael looked about, the chaos of combat silent, almost unmoving. And then he noticed his armor and clothing. He was no longer garbed in Godsteel. Instead, he was cloaked in silver and black, in new armor. Godsteel plate and Godsteel chainmail, with Dragonleather and Griffinfeathers. Raphael removed his cloak, tying it about his waist. His foe did the same.

"What are you this time, Incarnate?"

"I am Death Incarnate, your first trial. I am the easiest of my Brothers."

"Brothers?"

"The Devil's Sons await. Unleash the Beast within you and we shall fall all too easily."

"No. Never. Not after I slew Ravyn."

"Then you shall fall."

Death's Passion, once in Raphael's hands, disappeared, re-materializing in the hands of the Incarnate as a twisted hand-and-a-half battlesabre. Death's Exile. In Death Incarnate's other hand appeared a scythe, the Scythe of Death.

All the Final Warrior had was the Griffin's Talon.

Death Incarnate charged, and the world, though still moving at a comically slow speed, seemed to stop. Where the Incarnate stepped, Death followed. And where the Final Warrior stepped, Life followed.

The two combatants met in a flash of bright light. Raphael had locked the Griffin's Talon against Death's Exile, the sole of his right boot against the shaft of the Scythe.

The two spun off of each other, bringing their guards down low. Death Incarnate snapped the Scythe up, then down, like a scorpion's tail. The Final Warrior was forced to back up, until he was back-to-back with, of all beings, V'kleta, who was arm-locked with a particularly horrendous-looking Centaur demon.

"I beg thy pardon, V'kleta Uundr'vachen."

The thought came to Raphael naturally, as naturally as his next move. He pushed off his feet, rolling up V'kleta's back, somehow getting between the wings without being harmed. Standing upon V'kleta's back, blade locked in a reverse-grip against both sword and scythe, Raphael snap-kicked Death Incarnate's head, knocking off its hood.

Beneath, Raphael stared himself back, a mirror image. A perfect mirror, down to the ritual-paint on his cheeks, jaw, and around the eyes. But it was the eyes that were different. They were pitch-black. No whites, no irises. Pure black.

"As black as the Damned One within you."

"The Damned One does not exist."

Raphael charged, swinging his blade back and forth down low and then up high, spinning, only to lock the blade against the Scythe.

Death Incarnate swung one leg, then the other, over the Final Warrior's arm, reversing his grip on the Scythe. Sliding back into Raphael's chest, he brought in the head of the Scythe, slamming Raphael in the head.

The Final Warrior stumbled back, sword in a reverse-grip in his left hand, right hand at his temple. Spinning, Rpahael attempted a backhanded reverse-stab into Death Incarnate's chest, only to be foiled again by the Scythe, which seemed to always be there.

"Unless I battle the Damned Angel, I will never fall."

"The Damned Angel will never answer to the call of Wrath!"

Raphael, his blade locked against the outside of the Scythe, rolled off, and ended up back-to-back against his foe.

Their arms came up. Griffin's Talon was again blocked by the Scythe, and Raphael gripped the soul-keeping blade of Death's Exile. Their arms out, the two formed a somewhat comical-looking cross.

"I win."

Releasing both his weapons, Death Incarnate spun away from Raphael, kicking him in the back. Raphael landed at the feet of a minotaur, swining its hammer down in slow-motion. Attempting to leap up, Raphael found that he was paralyzed.

"You'll see that I prepared ahead of time. A cross upon the Devil's mark, by the flesh of Death and the blood of Life, I call upon the Blackest Seraphim!"

Raphael roared, then screamed in agony. His chest burst open with streams of black light issuing forth from every orifice. The music of a choir of fallen Anges reached the ears of the Incarnate, who smiled. From Raphael's torn body arose a being who had only existed in legend. It was clad in the blackest of silk and leather, with three pairs of wings, black as a moonless, starless night. When he spoke, it was like the oceans of the world whipsered in unison.

"Who has summoned the forever Damned?"

"I have. The Avatar of Wrath calls upon the Blackest Seraphim. My master has need of your services."

The Seraphim, long locks of black hair hiding a pale face and black eyes, looked down, regarding the body of the Final Warrior, his chest torn open. The Seraphim kneeled, stroking the face of his Keeper.

"By the flesh of Death and the blood of Life, I am bound to this Immortal fool. I cannot do as your master bids, Avatar of Wrath."

Floating up on his six wings, the Seraphim looked about the battle. Wrath had just grabbed V'kleta's wings, and the others were similarly engaged. The Seraphim smiled a sad smile, one that would have pacified Demons and brought Angels to tears. Plungng his hand deep into the war-torn earth, the Blackest Seraphim spoke a single incantation, a powerful one. Drawing his arm back out, he regarded the white-gold liquid now coating it.

The Avatar of Wrath, Death Incarnate, stood stone-still, knowing what would happen next, and welcoming it.

The Blackest Seraphim pushed his arm through the Avatar's chest, eyes closed, holding back tears. "I am sorry."

The Avatar of Wrath only nodded.

The Seraphim destroyed Wrath, tearing its heart out, consuming its energies. Wrath merely collapsed, drained and hollow. The Blackest Seraphim turned to Raphael, pinned to the ground, his mouth open, frozen in a scream born of pain. The Seraphim kneeled upon Raphael's chest, returning to his prison.

Raphael's eyes snapped open. He stood at the cave entrance. V'kleta had just defeated Wrath.

"color=aqua]Then it was a trance.[/color]"

But as he surveyed the battleground, Raphael saw a pentagram drawn upon the floor, by the feet of a slain minotaur. But that wasn't the odd thing. The odd thing was that there was a single black feather.

"No..."

Raphael looked at himself. he was still dressed in the same battlegarb as the one he wore as he battled Wrath.

Raphael shrugged off the thoughts, rushing headlong into battle again.

((Vox, if you just want us to each face only one Sin, I can change "Wrath" to "Pride".))

 

[Vadriel]

((I like the idea of each of us taking on all 7. I like doing these fights, it's why I love to RP, plus if V'kleta absorbs power from all of the Avatars of Sin, it'll just about push him over the edge into his next phase of evolution.))

 

[Final Warrior]

((Yeah. And it's necessary for TFW, as well... You'll see, J'kar. This RP fits in perfectly with my plans for Raphael. >=P

-- Griffinhart))

 

[VoxEladrin]

((Verywell, everyone fights their seven sins. I forgot most of the sins.))

The Dark Flame Warrior and Lust were still locked in furious flaming combat. Both of their blades were making the tortured screams of countless souls locked inside (I bet V'kleta would love to bleed this sword). The ground shook around them from the strength of each blow, born of the power of the minotaur. The Dark Flame Warrior smirked and said "You are strong but you lack intelligence. Look behind you." Lust looked behind himself and he was being beaten back into a wall of sharp rocks. While he was looking, Dark Flame Warrior body checked him hard, slamming Lust into the wall.

Lust looked on his better with sad eyes. "Wolffang was wrong about you...you are indeed strong. Use that sorrow of not being able to reunite with your family to fuel your anger and fight like you once did 3,000 years ago. Greed awaits you." and he breathed his last.

Dark Flame Warrior smirked and then stabbed Deathscream into the corpse of Lust, absorbing his soul. Yes, these were not true Avatars, they had souls.

When Deathscream had it's fill, Dark Flame Warrior turned around and saw Greed standing before him. Greed was wearing gold and diamonds, and the ground around himself was a field of gold coins and artifacts. Everyone else was gone and it was just Greed and Dark Flame Warrior.

"And so, you face me. I am the Greed within you, the second weakest within you." he said as he removed his hood. It was Vox's face but there were no scars, just perfect unbroken skin. "To defeat me, you must unlock the power that you inherited from your father and mother again. The power over life and death. Forget your mortal flesh parents, the power of the minotaur and love are weak and do not give you the strength you need. Your brother fights with his inherited power as we speak, and so can you."

Dark Flame Warrior reverted back to Vox, but Ilya was still Deathscream. Vox closed his eyes and then re opened them. They were back to their normal ice blue and he charged at Greed, the coins on the ground chinking with every movement.

The Gold/Diamond blade of Greed came out and the two massive swords collided with each other, again causing the room to shake with every clash.

((For those like me who dont know what all of the sins are, I found this.

Lust - Depraved thought, unwholesome morality, desire for excitement, or need to be accepted or recognized by others. Obsessive, unlawful, or unnatural sexual desire, such as desiring sex with a person outside marriage or engaging in unnatural sexual appetites.

Gluttony - Thoughtless waste of everything, overindulgence, misplaced sensuality, uncleanliness, and maliciously depriving others.

Avarice (Greed) - A strong desire to gain, especially in money or power. Disloyalty, deliberate betrayal, or treason, especially for personal gain or when compensated. Scavenging and hoarding of materials or objects. Theft and robbery by violence.

Sloth - Apathy, idleness, and wastefulness of time. Laziness is particularly condemned because others must work harder to make up for it. Cowardice or irresponsibility

Wrath - Inappropriate (unrighteous) feelings of hatred and anger. Denial of the truth to others or self. Impatience or revenge outside of justice. Wishing to do evil or harm to others. Self-righteousness.

Envy - Grieving spite and resentment of material objects, accomplishments, or character traits of others, or wishing others to fail or come to harm. Envy is the root of theft and self-loathing. Dante defined this as "love of one's own good perverted to a desire to deprive other men of theirs".

Pride - A desire to be more important or attractive to others, failing to give credit due to others, or excessive love of self (especially holding self out of proper position toward God).

In order from weakest to strongest, Vox goes; Lust, Greed, Sloth, Gluttony, Wrath, Pride, Envy))

 

[Final Warrior]

The Griffin's Talon and Death's Passion cut down wave after wave of endless demons, tearing them apart and taking their souls. Raphael began to fall into his old combat rhythm, the motions of which were alike modern-day breakdancing. He soon ended up facing yet another cloaked figure. This time, the combat was in the normal flow of time.

Blocking and axe and slaying its weilder, the Final Warrior faced down his next foe.

"I am Gula, known as Gluttony. Beware, Griffinhart. BeWARE!"

Gula's hood came off and underneath was a Raphael that Raphael had never wanted to face down. THis Raphael was insane, slathering and red-eyed. His tongue, long and lashing back and forth, dripped slobber all over the ground. He drew his blade, a fattened and perverted form of the Griffin's Talon.

"BEWARE, GRIFFINHART. THIS WILL BE UNLIKE ANY FIGHT YOU HAVE EVER F-"

The rest of Gula's speech was cut off as Raphael's foot met his jaw, followed up by a rising slash from the Griffin's Talon, and then Death's Passion.

"Stop wasting air and fight, or die."

Raphael continued swinging at Gula, but was repelled by an invisible force.

"IF YOU WILL CALM DOWN, YOU'LL NOTICE THAT I HAVE MUCH MORE POWER THAN YOU."

It was true. Gluttony had at least tenfold the strength and power of Raphael, easily tossing him backwards. Raphael flipped in the air, landing in a roll. He gored two demons through-and-through with his blades, spinning and cutting them into halves. Rising from his kneeling position, Raphael pointed at Gula with the Talon, making the universal gesture for "bring it."

Gula's body deformed, taking its true shape. Fat on the gathered powers, Gluttony barely stumbled forwards, waddling and rolling. Pudgy fingers pointed at Raphael, firing off a series of elemental magic spells. Raphael whirled, his cloak, still tied around his waist, absorbing the spells. His new armor wasn't there for mere aesthetic value. Realizing this, Raphael moved forwards, almos tlike a ballet dancer, stepping, jumping, ducking, spinning, all the while his blades cutting through demons, until he was within spitting range of the blob that was Gula, yet no closer.

Gula snapped his fat fingers, tearing a hole into the earth just beneath Raphael, who disappeared from sight, into the earth.

"SO EASILY FALLEN?"

"Hah. Death does not so easily fall."

Rising from the ground directly behind Gluttony, Raphael threw his chains around the aura or protection surrounding his foe.

((I'll edit this later, or post a continuation... it's almost 5 AM and I need to sleep.))

 

[Vadriel]

((I think that I'm not really going to have any particular order to these fights...since all of the sins are pretty prevalent in V'kleta as of late. Oh, and btw @ Vox...you said something about V'kleta loving the opportunity to bleed those swords of their souls? Pray that never happens. Final and I were chatting last night on Yahoo...there are enough souls in that one sword to blast V'kleta into a near godlike state. And V'kleta as a god = bad.))

V'kleta held up Kir'halla, the blade as well humming and glowing with energy. As he held it, the demonic scythe shifted form, becoming first a massive sword, then a set of daggers, then a poleaxe, before returning to scythe form. Apparently it had absorbed so much energy that it had obtained a new ability: the ability to shift weapon type to suit the present needs. V'kleta had always been most comfortable with a scythe as his weapon, so he would be using it as it had always been for most of his battle, but still, this could become useful.

The soul of Wrath's energy bleeding off around him, decimating the hordes of demons around him, their souls being sucked into him to replace the miniscule amount of Wrath's energy being expended in the process, V'kleta reveled in his newfound power. Taking idle swipes with Kir'halla that were magnified by his power to increase their range by at least tenfold, he cut massive swaths of carnage through the masses of demons around him before he sensed another powerful presence...or rather, two.

[blur][glow=red]"Welcome, V'kleta. We have been eagerly anticipating this moment since we found thee resurrected in this time. The events about to unfold shalt prove quite interesting."[/glow][/blur]

V'kleta turned to look upon the source of the voices. His smile widened as he realized what his new enemy would be. Before him, another simulacrum of himself stood before him, this one much more a match of his current state, yet with a different little twist from Wrath. This clone of himself was in fact, two.

The basic form of this doppelganger was nearly identical to V'kleta, but where V'kleta's face should have been, two instead grew out from a central point in the beast's head. The one on the left had wild, insane eyes, its jaws working endlessly in a slavering frenzy of hunger. The one on the right was much more focused, and almost frigid in its single-minded purpose. They spoke as one, disemboddied voices slithering out together from the gaping jaws, entwined as one and yet still both separate.

[blur][glow=red]"Yesssss...look upon us, V'kleta, and look upon thyself. Know what we are, and know without doubt what thou art as well."[/glow][/blur]

V'kleta snorted. Only two Sins within himself could be so closely linked as to be Siamese twins. This beast must be the merging of his Greed and Gluttony for souls. He was surprised that his Sin of Lust was not also contained within this creature, since the most prevalent way that Lust manifested itself within him was his lust for power and souls. Oh well, he would surely deal with that particular Sin later. Who knows, it could prove a surprise. For now, however...

[blur][glow=red]"Prepare thyself, little V'kleta, little Slayer of Legions, little Master of Darkness. Prepare thyself for thy doom..."[/glow][/blur]

((I think I'll have to take up an entire post to intro each Sin...I have a good time describing them. ))

 

[VoxEladrin]

((Lol, you were actually talking about Deathscream? It's been bled once before then the hole was patched and it absorbed anew))

Vox and Greed battled on the gold-coated field, their massive blades smashing into each other. The ground shook violently with the force put into every blow. "Power isn't everything, I can beat the rest without forsaking my family name. I WILL win!" He said as he forced Greed back using his immense strength.
"A meaningless effort, you're too proud for your own good."

 

[Vadriel]

((Yeah, we were. But since V'kleta feeds on souls in order to make his physical body more stable so that he can more efficiently channel the immense energy of Kir'halla without having his physical body deteriorate under the strain, such a huge influx of energy from so many souls would create an overload, triggering such a massive evolutionary phase that his physical body would be mutated beyond linear comprehension, and he'd essentially become a god. You have to remember, V'kleta is only an outlet for Kir'halla, and Kir'halla is essentially the incarnation of all "Yang" in all of reality. Just ask Final. We had a LONG talk last night about our chars and their histories.

Meh, no time to RP the big battle right now. Will do later on.))

 

[Final Warrior]

((Actually, we were talking about Death's Passion. But the Passion is similar to Deathscream in function (I think), so yeah.))

The chains cleaved through Gula's protective aura, catching him around the neck, buried away under folds of fat. A red energy surged down the aqua chains, coursing into the Final Warrior's arms. This new energy tore through his body as he, his armor, and the swords he wielded began to absorb it all.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? UNDO THESE CHAINS, FOOLISH LITTLE IMMORTAL."

Instead of replying with words, Raphael merely pulled bac harder, tightening the chains and pulling himself closer to Gula at the same time. Soon enough, he was within melee distance of Gluttony.

Gluttony looked older, worn down. He was still a giant mountain of flesh, but he sagged more and more as his energy coursed into the Final Warrior.

Raphael ducked under a wicked-looking claymore, planting his feet on the chest of its demonic wielder. Pushing off, Raphael landed on the ginormous girth of Gluttony. Using his chains, Raphael began to scale the side of Gula's body.

 

[Vadriel]

V'kleta smiled at the mutated doppleganger in front of him.

"I think it is thee who should prepare for doom, demons."

V'kleta released a massive surge of the power he contained, and his body ignited, becoming like a demonic phoenix. The wings he had manifested earlier in his fight with Wrath seemed like nothing as the massive ones that had just exploded from his own natural ones carved smoking gashes in the walls of the cavern as he slowly and confidently strode towards the hybrid Greed/Gluttony. He reached the creature, and stood towering over it, expecting terror and anguish from it. A laugh from the beast wiped the smirk from his fiery face.

[blur][glow=red]"Silly quarterblood. Thy power comes from thy ravenous thirst for souls. Dost thou not think that we, thy very thirst incarnate, doth not have such same power? Face it, puny mortal...thou wilt perish."[/glow][/blur]

The merged beasts exploded with their own flaming energy, and rose to great proportions, towering over even the flaming V'kleta. The ceiling of the cavern melted and poured down around them as the beast rose to its full height. With a sweep of its arm, the cave was swept away and they stood on a boiling field of molten rock and magma, volcanic mountains in the distance and a storming sky of ash and lightening above.

V'kleta's eyes widened in shock as the part within him that was Beliar recognized his home realm, the realm where he was worhipped as a god. The amazement faded, replaced by a great confidence and even amusement in his narrowing and slitted eyes. It was his turn to let out a massive laugh that echoed in the molten valley and it was Greed/Gluttony's turn to start in surprise at their foe's reaction.

"You call me silly, and yet you transport us to the one place where I most hold sway? I thought you were Gluttony and Avarice incarnate, not Pride! You dare to think that you can best me on my own turf, in the realm where I am called GOD? For this you will pay with your pathetic life."

The flames covering the Avatars of Sin died off and flickered away into nothing as the realization of its unwitting blunder crept into their eyes. The very playing field that they had thought would seal their victory, instead would seal their fate.

V'kleta took his time with the Sins. Their cries of pain and misery reverbirated throughout the entire realm that was Beliar's domain. When all was done and their ruined body lay before the god that V'kleta was in this realm, and their souls were sucked into Kir'halla to fuel his further mutation and gathering of power, the realm around V'kleta shimmered and faded back into the cavern, the corpse of the Sins lying cold and lifeless, mostly unrecognizable, on the cave floor.

V'kleta felt deep regret that he could not remain in that realm which gave him so much power, but he knew that one day he would return.

For now, however, there were other Sins to attend to, and he doubted that these ones would be so kind as to make their deaths so easy.

 

[Kitty]

((I'm having a minor case of writer's block [anything written beyond two paragraphs seems like crap to me, if that's the way to describe it -_-;; ] but know that I am alive, trying, and will post, very soon. ^^ ))

 

[VoxEladrin]

Suddenly, Vox appeared from out of nowhere, as if to pop in from existance. He held the severed head of Greed in his hand and howled his victory. He then went to meet his Sloth. This one had a very tired, bored look on his face as he stood up and walked to Vox as if he had all the time in the world. "I am Sloth...fight me..."

Vox smirked "With pleasure." He launched himself at Sloth and just as he was about to strike, Sloth brought up his own blade and yawned. He was suprisingly strong for a lazy ass.