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Welcome to Wanted Dead or Alive! We are a Supernatural and The Walking Dead Crossover RPG that takes place in 2034 - approximately 20 years into the future. You're welcome to take a look around and if you have any questions, do not hesitate to pop into our OOC Chatbox. Our staff is incredibly friendly and willing to help in any way we can!



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ARMED FORCES STATUS UPDATE
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Active Operations: All Hallows Eve Festival set in motion - demonic activity has increased by 75%. Guards and Angels are to be on Wall Watch for the entirety of the intiation.

Threats: Croats increasing numbers near Canaan, Caelum, and Mirabili. Demons are increasing their numbers surrounding Sanctus. Possible threat to the prophet. She is not to leave the city at all times.

The Wasteland

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The Wasteland

Post by Jericho on Fri Sep 19, 2014 4:47 am

All of America is left in desolation with little or no chance of survival. Cities are destroyed and croats, demons, and angels are lurking in every corner, waiting for a human to appear. Vampires, Werewolves, and other mythical creatures also lurk in these areas, and whether they will befriend you or not will significantly change your chances of survival.
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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Jericho on Fri Sep 19, 2014 5:08 am

Somewhere in the middle of this depressing nowhere of a flat, large, and empty landscape, the birds are chirping, the wild dogs were roaming along with whatever critters and insects that were crawling everywhere. To them, they could all care less about what the hell is going on in the world around them, unless the Croats come too close.... Or walkers as some people would start calling them. Some could be seen here and there, either wandering around or simply lying there, waiting for their next meal to come around. Or, they are simply just dead. Everything was peaceful.... until the sky suddenly darkened, black clouds making a small circle high above. The wind picked up, blowing faster and faster, and a funnel of wind came from the clouds and touched the earth below, and it was evidently a tornado! Everything in its reach was suddenly flying up from the ground, be it destroyed houses, debris, walkers, and any living thing that was unlucky enough to get away in time! The tornado reigned over the land in its devastating wake! But, within the spiraling destruction, the ground churned and slowly rose up to a large lump of soil and dirt that cracked and rolled off to its side to make it bigger and bigger. Lighting started to violently flashed, striking down upon the land until all of it was directly hitting that lump over and over! Finally, an arm reached out from beneath the surface of it and grabbed a handful of dirt that had solidified because of the lighting before another had done the same! Then, suddenly, a man exploded out from there, and everything suddenly stopped in its place, including the tornado as the balded man had with much powerful force screamed as loud as he could as if it were a devastating roar! It was enough to halt the twister and blow everything around him back and fall to the ground once again. His roaring ceased, and he started panting, his chest looking as it were about to burst with the air. Opening his icy green eyes, the man looked around, confused, but calm now; especially since things were starting to fall around him. Slowly, he pulled his feet from the ground and lifted his naked body up from the ground, turning to examine everything around him. With no clue to where he is, he simply started to walk a direction to something that he is rather curious about; a large house that was damaged, but still intact...

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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Razdriel on Fri Sep 19, 2014 2:56 pm

Cabin fever.  It was worse than being stuck at home with food poisoning and the flu to Razdriel.  The only plus was the fact cabin fever wasn't as messy as being physically ill.  For Raz, it simply meant taking a trip away from the cave.

Being non-human and athletic, he could explore far and wide without exhaustion.  The only issues were the Croats and Walkers.  He wasn't sure if their bite would affect him, but he didn't want to find out.  Razdriel had learned enough tricks to remain invisible to demons and angels, for the most part, and felt more than confident with vampires, werewolves and any other beastie that came his way.

While exploring a pokey, abandoned farming town – a good three day hike from home for Raz – the air went still and the animals stopped their constant chirp and yowl.  He poked through a farm house – after exterminating its single Croat resident - ignoring the splatter of blood on the walls as he sought hidden corners.  There were quite a few valuables Raz had found since the virus descended; a few pocket knives, the tea pot, a shaving razor, some clothing.  He still had to be careful, especially if Mother Nature decided to throw him a curve ball.  

The silence struck him first, then Razdriel smelled the electric churn of air.  The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he stepped onto the rickety porch.  He instantly saw the funnel in the distance, but paused when he realized it seemed to hover in one spot.  Lightning licked inside the funnel of air, as if it were striking the same place over and over.  Razdriel narrowed his eyes as a roar split through the air.  The twister suddenly dissipated, lightning and all.  Slowly, animals began to move again as the echoes of the scream died away, but Razdriel didn't move.

Well, that wasn't suspicious at all.

Drawing his swords, Razdriel stalked in the direction where the tornado had touched down.
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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Azrael on Fri Sep 19, 2014 4:38 pm

The sky had been so peaceful that afternoon, animals going about their business as Azrael reclined lazily in a tree. Her wings lay limp on either side of her - invisible to all except demons, angels, and half-breeds - and she kept her eyes closed, feeling the breeze on her face.

The weight of The Roster hung inside her inner jacket pocket, but Azrael wasn't particularly looking to get any work done at that moment. Regardless, she should return to her hideout soon, maybe get some rest. Of course...that was when the wind picked up.

She could always sense when something was off, and the way the wind whipped up and lightning struck only one area was definitely off. Not to mention it was extremely close by, so that was a bit concerning. In any case, her green-blue eyes remained on the spot, trying to figure out just what was going on. But unless Az crept closer, there would be no chance to sate her curiosity. Someday, that curiosity would be the death of her. Ironically. But for now, the angel stood on the branch she'd been reclining in and gracefully swooped back down to the ground, her feet touching the earth once again.

She blinked then, realizing the wind had suddenly stopped as her hair once again hung limp over her shoulders. Azrael drew her angel blade, eyes sharp as she crept silently along the foliage towards the spot where the strange tornado had touched down. At least the trees kept her hidden in shadow.

The angel reached the tree line soon, and paused, sticking her head out just a bit to catch sight of...was that guy naked? "What the hell?" she mumbled, hesitating to do anything else as the naked man ambled towards an old house. And while her instincts told her to just leave it be, the fact that there'd just been a tornado about a minute ago and now there was some naked guy roaming around in the Wastelands was enough to keep her rooted in place. Waiting.

But for what?

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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Jericho on Fri Sep 19, 2014 5:30 pm

The man, proud as he was, tried to stay on his feet, dispute how exhausted and jetlagged he seemed, and in his hand was something that dangled and glowed red, but he didn't paid any mind to it at all. He simple walked (or at least tried to) towards the cabin, feeling that it would be much safer there until his mind cleared up. He drew closer towards it until he took a knee and gripped the dirty ground, taking deep, heavy breaths with eyes closed shut and his teeth gritting hard against one another.

But then, he stopped... And he quickly looked up to see a silhouette of someone approaching him. At first his vision was blurry, but after a couple of blinks.... Shit! He was an angel, and he saw the blades drawn! And that was his signal to stand again and step back with a threatening look to his face. Then he tried to speak to threaten to keep their distance, but the only thing that came from his mouth was a bit if fire and smoke.... A childish, naked, half and half man coming fresh out of hell... What a pathetic sight.

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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Razdriel on Fri Sep 19, 2014 7:02 pm

Razdriel could see the figure in the distance.  A man, naked and clenching a necklace in hand.  That didn't do much to console Raz's whirling thoughts.  Demon, angel or something else?  A new mutation in the Croatoan virus?  Raz shook his head.  Croats that could control the weather; that was a bit too far-fetched.  

When the man fell to his knees, Raz picked up the pace.  There was too much the man could do on the ground.  Write runes to summon friends with similar intent, become a massive tree monster or, the obvious, die.  Razdriel wasn't a stranger to death, especially after participating in more wars than he could count, but the world was already too cruel as was.

As Raz got closer, and the man stood in an attempt to become a threat, he realized his intimidation meter was set at a 10.  Razdriel returned his dual swords to their sheaths and continued to close the distance.  As he neared, something inside of him vibrated.  Razdriel tilted his head, curiously, as his senses screamed Angel! and Demon! simultaneously. That called for pause a safe distance from the man.

Another warning bell went off in the back of his head as he passed by a particular section of trees.  Now, that was a sensation he could recall feeling in the past, during battles and wars and plagues.  It had taken him centuries to realize who she was, but his connection to angel radio helped him along.  Razdriel's lips thinned as suspicion weighed heavily in his thoughts.  What were the chances?  But, he hadn't heard much about Azrael siding with Lucifer and Michael.  Perhaps, it was merely coincidence.

Well, he was already out in the open and his curiosity was piqued by the appearance of another hybrid.  Even if the Angel of Death skulked nearby.  Razdriel cleared his throat before his deep voice boomed over the distance to the bare man, "Are you in need of medical attention?"

Then, to the thicket of trees, Raz added, "Or do you have some other reason to be here, Angel of Death?"
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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Azrael on Fri Sep 19, 2014 7:58 pm

She kept still, doing her best to remain unseen as the naked man made his way across the wind-tumbled terrain. Of course, that was about the same time that Azrael senses someone else in the area, and she jerked her head back around towards the direction she could sense them coming from. Too late though, she tried masking her grace, hoping she would continue going unnoticed until she figured out what was going on here.

As the second being came closer, Az went invisible, not realizing that her whereabouts had already been uncovered. That's what she got for spending all her time wandering and not resting. Her senses got dull, along with all her other abilities.

Suddenly, the naked man was moving faster, and Azrael's green-blue gaze went back to him. Had he sensed her? Or had he sensed the other being who was fast approaching them? Either way, it seemed things were starting to get complicated, and Az was heavily debating on just leaving well enough alone.

Then she saw him, still within the confines of the tree line, but close enough to where the angel could tell he was definitely not a human. Neither of them were. Part of her was grasping for the word Nephilim, but that didn't seem the right label. They were...something else. Something a lot newer to the world.

The second man was out in the open now, having just sheathed what Azrael knew to be weapons. What she didn't expect was for him to speak, or even address her. By title.

Damnit...she thought.

"Who wants to know? Since you seem so keen on using titles," Azrael called, uncloaking herself as she stepped away from the tree line with arms crossed over her chest. "And you're no angel. How do you know me?" she asked, dismissing his earlier question.

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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Jericho on Fri Sep 19, 2014 8:29 pm

Jericho didn't lash out, not could he be able to anyways S the man had come close. The voice was kinda hard to understand, but it was a question, no doubt. The naked man had then sat down with his hands on his knees and panted from all that he had spewn out from inside him. God, he felt like shit... But at least he wasn't in Hell anymore... The sitting helped, having him rest, and soon, everything slowly cleared up. After a few blinks to adjust his icy green eyes, Jericho looked up at the man, who had turned towards another direction. Another voice was heard! But it seems that none of them were starting a fight. Not yet at least. So he simply sat there, observing this beautiful angel and the bearded brute, who was more than what he thought earlier... His eyes were then glued to the one that was called "Angek of Death" almost as in awe, seeing something rather beautiful for the first time in his life.

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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Razdriel on Fri Sep 19, 2014 10:03 pm

"This pretty face is a lot older than it looks.  I guess you could say you and I have been passing acquaintances over the centuries."  Razdriel answered Azrael with a smirk, before adding, "You are right.  I'm not an angel, but I don't give out my name, willy nilly."

He turned back to the naked man, who seemed to ease.  The stranger sat back down and panted, as if he was struggling with something inside of him.  Or perhaps he was just exhausted from whatever transpired with that tornado.  Razdriel sidled closer to the man, moving slowly.  Then, there was that odd, glowing necklace.  Over his travels, Raz knew better than to snatch at something like that.  Raz was much too curious about the man's heritage to let him die, but the stranger hadn't said a word - or gibberish - in response to his question.  Did he understand English?

That's when Razdriel noticed how the man stared at Azrael.  He knew that gaze.  It was akin to the look boys gave when they entered a swanky brothel for a first time.  He covered his amusement by surveying the landscape.  There was a farmhouse not far off.

"There's a house over there," Razdriel turned to Azrael, nodding to the house.  If Raz was right about that look on the stranger's face, she'd be more helpful with them than away,  "At the very least, let's clothe this man.  Unless you're enjoying the show, Azrael."

Regardless of the woman's answer, Razdriel knelt down. He wasn't about to touch the man until he made it clear he was helping. Hoping the man could understand motions, Raz pointed to the house and stood. Razdriel started for the house, giving the man a chance to walk on his own and a chance for Azrael to choose whether to follow or not.
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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Azrael on Fri Sep 19, 2014 11:11 pm

So he knew of her. Well...now she had a hundred other questions to ask him. Had he been following her? Did he know where she was staying? More importantly, did he know about her fall? Most of the other angels didn't remember Az's fall, as if it was programmed out of their memories. But the questions could wait.

Regardless... "And yet you seem so keen on throwing mine around. You may be older than you look, but you don't need ta be a dick," Az snapped, the blue of her eyes shining a little brighter. But she kept her stance relaxed, not wanting him to think she was intended to attack.

When beard-man turned back to naked man, Azrael's gaze softened a bit. She basically ignored the necklace in his hand, more concerned about the state he was in. Had the naked man caused the storm? Unlikely, but it was better to be cautious. Not to mention she was still unsure what either of them were. What she did know was that their auras rang similar, meaning they were probably the same species.

She looked back up at beard-man, noting how he was failing to cover up some sort of misplaced amusement over...wait. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Az suddenly spoke up when she saw the naked man looking at her. It made her uncomfortable to say the least.

Beard-man was speaking again though, and she relaxed since he seemed to want to help naked-man. Of course, he was making snide remarks again, and Azrael tensed. "Watch yourself, half-breed," she warned. "I'll help however I can, but if you keep acting like an asshole, I'll shove my angel blade so far up your ass you'll be shitting metal shards for months."

And with that, she looked back at naked-man, waiting for a response.

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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Jericho on Fri Sep 19, 2014 11:41 pm

Jericho's attention to the Angel of Death was suddenly interrupted by another set of coughs as smoke and fire had came from his throat again, and this time, he covered his mouth. It seemed that it of hurt, and he sure expressed that pain. At the end, he gagged, coughed, and spat out a small, pitch-black pebble, which was only found within the depths of Hell... He seemed better though after wiping his mouth with a wrist and shook his head with a grunt. He stood up and looking at the man as he started walking towards the farm house, which where he was wanting to go to in the first place after his rather dramatic entrance. "Where am I....?" He finally spoke with a light, yet mature voice, staring at the female before turning to the man. "And what do you mean when you say "get me clothed"...?" That definitely shows how very new he is to this earth... They could both perhaps see it in his eyes; the confused and curiousness as well as alertness within those green orbs that were cold towards them....
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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Razdriel on Sat Sep 20, 2014 12:50 am

Razdriel paused when Azreal snapped at him as he walked away.  He sighed and closed his eyes, counting to three in his head.  There was no use fighting with her and, as if her threat were any indication, she wasn't exactly the most hospitable angel.  However, Raz did poorly when threatened.  When he turned, he pinned Azreal with a forced smile and a steely gaze, "I don't owe you anything and if you think this is me being disrespectful, well, you have very limited experience with dicks, Azzy."

The naked man's hacking coughs drew Raz's gaze from Azreal, before he could say or do anything else.  Razdriel raised his eyebrows as a black rock dislodged from the stranger's throat.  When the stranger stood and spoke, Raz's eyebrows inched further up his forehead.  A tornado?  Not knowing Earth?  Not knowing about clothes?  Coughing up what appeared to be sulfur?  This man apparently spent a long time in Hell or Heaven.  Either would want to hide an angel-demon half-breed.  Why not simply kill him, though?  Raz shook the questions away.

"I meant we're going to get you something to wear.  You are naked,"  Razdriel motioned to the other man then to his own clothes, "I am wearing clothes.  They're for protection and decency.  Here on Earth, they don't like the naughty bits on display."

Something in the man's wide, curious eyes made Razdriel sigh.  He pinched the bridge of his nose.  Maybe cabin fever wasn't such a bad ailment.  Well, no use crying over it now, however, Raz was beginning to itch under the open sky.  It was only a matter of time until Croats - or worse - found them.  

"Let's head for the house.  Being out in the open isn't advisable, especially with us - all of us - being what we are."  Razdriel turned on his heel and started for the house again.  He couldn't still his anxiety any longer.  Along the way, he drew his swords, lest he was walking into a nest of enemies.

As he neared the building, the front door slammed open.  A couple of Croats emerged, dripping with blood and pus and whatever else gooed out of them.  They leered at Razdriel before charging, shrieking.  Raz breathed.  This, he could handle.  He wouldn't even need to warm up his blades for these two.  In a whirl of blades, he dispatched the two zombie-like creatures, beheading them both with quick movements.  After observing his work and climbing the steps to the porch, Raz felt a bit more at ease with his situation.  Croats, he could handle.  The Angel of Death and a naked man threw him a bit more for a loop.
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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Azrael on Sat Sep 20, 2014 1:18 am

And this was why Azrael had a much easier time getting along with women. At least they could agree to disagree, instead of turning into condescending asses the second an argument started. She could tell beard-man wasn't too keen on her popping off at him, but Az wasn't about to let him walk all over her just because he was bulky and intimidating. Hell no. Besides, her true form was a lot more intimidating than the guy's impressive facial hair.

"And trust me, I have more experience with dicks than your right hand does. Is there a problem with that?" she tilted her head, expression just daring him to make another snide remark.

Of course, that was when naked-man spat up a lump of sulfur, and Az shut up quick. That was...troubling.

At least beard-man was concerned with naked-man again, so Azrael just took a deep breath, reminding herself that it was better to have allies in this God-forsaken world than to be at everyone's throats all the time. And he was doing a better job explaining what clothes were than Az would have been able to. So with a little bit of coaxing, they were all on their way towards the ramshackle house, an unlikely bunch of misfits.

She noted beard-man pulling his weapons out then, her eyes narrowing just a sliver before the front doors burst open and two Croats ran out. Azrael pulled her angel blade back out, automatically starting to rush forward past naked-man. But beard-man took care of the trouble, and the angel just huffed as he headed up the stairs.

Except he'd missed one.

"Duck!" she shouted, hoping they would both do just that as she threw her blade forward into the door frame of the house where it stuck into the head of a third Croat. The body dropped, and Az released a breath, strolling past him and naked-man to pull her blade out of the dead Croat's head. "Don't get so cocky, you'll get one of us killed," she remarked, her voice a little less mocking a little more serious this now.

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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Jericho on Sat Sep 20, 2014 2:57 am

"Naked? Naughty bits? Clothes? Earth?" He showed more curiosity as it furthered. But, he stayed silent as the two bickered, and he couldn't help but frown... But why he was frowning, he isn't sure himself. "And why are we speaking of genitalia...?" He continued with his questioning until he stopped with "And what am I...?" That paused him, making him looking down at his hands and his body, until his necklace caught his attention. It doesn't seem like much.... but he held on to it like its his dear life. So, while the two of them were now fighting out with whatever these slow and rotting beings were, Jericho simply stared at the necklace before he lifted it up and put it around his neck.

It suddenly started to shine! And both of his eyes the same, having crimson color radiating off from them! And an aura surrounded him and blasted its energy around him before entering inside of his body to take refuge within the depths of him! it showed on his back as these angelic symbols grew and stuck to his flesh like roots of a tree, making a symbolic shape of some kind. He was seeing things, hearing things, feeling things, and every last piece of information about what knowledge of good and evil were filling his mind, and it was almost too much for the poor man to bear! Once again, he had fallen to his knees, gripping his head, screaming, or roaring at least, from the agonizing pain as his memory of Hell came into his mind! The banishment of his mother! The death of his father! Angels! Demons! And this amulet.... It was a part of him that is sealed away!

It was all over, and the aura was gone, his eyes closed, his head with hair, and his body covered with clothes; a white tank top, black overcoat with a red interior and a hood, dark jeans, and boots. And then... He fell on his back, just for a moment laying there until his eyes opened, their icy green once again. "Aaaaahh..... Damn...." Was the first thing he said in that aftermath, and his hand went up to gently rub his head. "Ugh.... What the hell happened....?" He pushed back against the ground to have him sit up and observe the two, blinking a few times. "And.... Who the hell are you two?"

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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Razdriel on Sat Sep 20, 2014 2:47 pm

Razdriel raised from his crouched position as Azrael retrieved her blade.  He had his mouth open to offer the Angel of Death a brief thanks, but Raz thought better of it.  Before Razdriel could shut his mouth, though, a retort left his lips, "Well, gee, sorry.  Guess I'm used to having companions capable of taking care of themselves, to some extent."

He didn't care if Azrael reacted violently to his words.  The woman was mad he didn't share his name or answer her questions willingly.  Now, she was finding any reason to reprimand or insult him.  Razdriel had little patience for a constant barrage from an angel with a demeaning attitude.  

Before Razdriel could stew any longer, red flashes of light caught his gaze.  Red light streaked out from the stranger's amulet, eyes and body.  Razdriel's skin crawled as his mind spun with trying to figure out what was going on. When the stranger fell to his knees, howling and roaring, Razdriel inched closer.  Curiosity was getting the best of him, considering the stranger was the same as himself.  Raz tensed, preparing himself for the worst - whatever that could be - when the aura lifted.  

Surprise almost slammed the breath from his lungs. Apparently, that amulet didn't like men being naked or bald. As the man, Razdriel moved closer.  He figured the stranger could turn into a Lovecraftian horror any second or he was injured or exhausted from the drastic metamorphosis.  When the man spoke, the tension in Razdriel eased.  Well, that was a relief.  The man seemed less like a lost, curious thing now.

"You were bald and naked up until you put that amulet on,"  Razdriel indicated the necklace with his sword before lowering his weapon.  His mental library of facts faltered over what happened, but so far the stranger didn't seem aggressive. With a shrug, the bearded man added, "Call me presumptive, but I think you have a better idea what the hell is going on than me.  So, where the hell did you come from?"

Razdriel threw Azrael a glance, as if to say, 'add what you want.'  Again, the man wasn't too keen on introducing himself, considering he had the privilege of anonymity.  It seemed like it'd be an inevitability, though.  The price of his comforting mystery seemed less than agreeable, as well.  With a grudging sigh, Razdriel glanced from Azrael to the stranger, "Name's Razdriel, if it's really that comforting to hear."
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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Azrael on Sat Sep 20, 2014 4:01 pm

Azrael just glared. She hadn't even meant to be condescending with that last remark, she was just being matter-of-fact and he was completely misunderstanding her. "And I thought angels had a problem with pride..." Az mumbled, her gaze actually a little wounded over that.

Here she was trying to help two strangers out and beard-man had decided to make her public enemy number one. Talk about gratitude. She knew the world had turned harsh, but part of the angel had hoped that the people in it hadn't done the same. Maybe she was being too optimistic to hope for such a thing, but being stuck on Earth for so many years with no way of getting home made you sympathetic to others who were also stuck on this floating rock in space. She took a deep breath, wondering when there would be a good chance to leave. They didn't seem like they needed her anyway.

Then again, considering there was now bright red light streaming out of naked-man like a Fourth of July fireworks show, maybe sticking around for a little while longer wouldn't be a bad idea.

She and beard-man both seemed drawn to the naked-man - who was spontaneously becoming not naked and not bald - as they took tentative steps forward. Azrael had been around for a long time, but she couldn't place what exactly was going on, only that it was similar to an angel who'd hidden their grace in a pendent only to smash it upon the ground to get that grace back. Except he wasn't an angel.

Regardless, it was all over in a matter of moments, and Az felt the breath returning to her lungs as beard-man addressed red-light-man. She caught beard-man's look, but couldn't scramble for what to say for several moments. But she looked down at red-light-man, her expression deeply concerned. "I think we know where you came from. What I wanna know is who exactly are you?" the angel asked.

Beard-man was speaking again though, and Azrael felt only slightly better knowing his name now. Though why a non-human that wasn't an angel was carrying an angel name was drawing her curiosity. Still, she looked back at red-light-man and shrugged. "I guess you already know who I am thanks to Razzy over there. Azrael, The Angel of Death, not as big of a deal to me as it is to some people. Hi, how are you? A little winded?"

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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Jericho on Sat Sep 20, 2014 6:18 pm

"Right..... I was... But I mean what... Never mind. Forget it..." Jericho sighed and leaned back before jumping to his feet to stand. He was a little taller that Azrael, but nowhere near as tall as Raz. With a smirk, the man shook his head and crossed his arms. "As and Raz, hmm? You two sure know how to talk down on eachother."

"As for what happened...." Jericho frowned, and it seemed distant with his thoughts, and by the look of his face, it wasn't good ones. "I escaped. Barely though... Sure wasn't easy nor fun, going around that firery hole, getting hunted by hell hounds and demons of all kinds.... Damn. You're right there on that question; I am pretty winded..." Takin a deep inhale, he puffed out his cheeks to exhale his own blow of wind. "Shit-faced is a better word for what I'm feeling... But relieved." He laughed for a moment with hands behind his head to breathe better.

"And... For who I am." His attention was to Asrael, and he made a small smile for her. "Angel of Death... I'm named after my father... Jericho."

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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Razdriel on Sat Sep 20, 2014 8:34 pm

Razdriel listened carefully to the man's story.  He diplomatically ignored the comments about him and Azrael. They didn't need any more help continuing on a wrong foot, after all. So, Jericho was a half-breed and was being held in Hell.  That covered all the bases.  However, how long was he in Hell?

"Alright, Jeri, here's the deal, because I'm getting the feeling you might not be up on current events,"  Razdriel sheathed his swords and crossed his arms, "Lucifer and Michael have teamed up, they've taken over Heaven and Hell.  There's a disease that makes people into flesh-eating, undead monsters that's been unleashed while both angels and demons are trying to destroy humans."  

The man threw a concerned eye to the sky.  Dark clouds swarmed and roiled.   The hair rose on his arms as gooseflesh nipped his skin.  Sulfur tickled at Razdriel's nose.  Demons or hellhounds were freshly released from Hell.  They were close enough to Sanctus for it to be an attack on the Winchesters' or they could be targeted thanks to Jericho.  Razdriel felt a swell of relief as his worst fears were confirmed; being a half-breed was an instant sentencing to imprisonment, torture and - probably - death.

"Looks like trouble on the horizon."  Razdriel muttered as he pulled his skinning knife from his boot.  He sliced at his palm, pain lacing over his hand, and trotted to the door frame to paint demon warding sigils on the wood.  He motioned to Jericho for him to follow inside, before turning to Azrael.  His eyes trailed up and down the angel's body.  Irritation pricked at his mind, replaying - yet again - her reactions to him.  

Not that Razdriel didn't understand some level of resentment from Azrael over his actions, but still.  Everyone knew who she was, she was a "pure-blood" angel who fell.  When the ultimate fallen angel had power, any fallen angel was given reprieve.  Raz, however, was a halfie; just existing was a death sentence for him.  When his gaze found her eyes, Razdriel grimaced, "Yeah, angels are a victim to pride, Azzy.  The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, though!"

Then he ducked into the house, drawing sigils as he stalked around the foyer. Razdriel was still having mixed feelings over what was happening.  He presumed the other two would follow and that Azrael could answer any of Jericho's unanswered inquiries.
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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Azrael on Sat Sep 20, 2014 10:03 pm

What was with Razdriel and giving people nicknames? Regardless, Azrael kept silent and stoic as he gave Jericho a quick summary of current events. Not the most eloquent speech, but it got the job done.

"So...what happened to you exactly? 'Cause it doesn't seem like you just...died and came back. It looks more like you're running from something," she noted, her voice grave. The memory of that tornado was still etched into Az's head, and whether or not Jericho had caused it was still unanswered.

Suddenly, the wind was picking up again, and Azrael gripped the handle of her angel blade even tighter. The smell of sulfur hit her like a ton of bricks, actually making the angel feel a bit nauseous. Sulfur was never a good sign, especially when it was wafting through the air like some kind of mismanaged spell. She looked over at Razdriel as he spoke, watching as he sliced his hand open and began drawing sigils on the door.

Regardless of them having to act like adults at that moment, Az could feel the resentment rolling off of Razdriel onto her in waves. She understood it though, understood that her being an angel and him being a half-breed made for some hostility. But she had it far harder than he thought she did, and Michael and Lucifer working together hadn't relieved Azrael of any of the bitterness and discrimination she'd felt from the Host. It didn't make her a proper angel again.

"Then you should admit it too," Az sighed, stepping into the house as Razdriel busied himself with drawing sigils. She slit her own hand, taking up the side of the house opposite him so they could finish faster. Once that was finished, she wrapped her hand up with a cloth - healing herself always cost her energy - before walking back up to Razdriel. "Look, I know you don't like me, but can we please try to get along? At least for the sake of surviving the night?" she asked in all seriousness.

Then she turned to Jericho, expression somber. "You gotta be level with us, dude. You gotta tell us what's going on, and what the hell is after you. Otherwise, we're all dead."

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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Jericho on Sun Sep 21, 2014 2:10 am

The half-being gave the other a stern look. "Do not call me Jeri... It is Jericho." His arms crossed over one another. His overview did help him a bit, but he wasn't sure who Michael or Lucifer was. But Their names were heard during his times down under. The man followed the other, wondering what he was doing and seeing that the angel was doing the same, making small shapes with their blood.

When Azrael asked of what happened, her smirked. "I didn't die. It's.... It's a long pathetic story." Jericho seemed rather saddened as he was turning away from them, but at the same time, he had much anger radiating off of him like an erupting volcano. Feeling the sky churn and wind pick up made his skin crawl a bit, remembering how it was in a level of hell. And the smell of sulfur... He took a deep breath and frowned, answering Azraels question of what was after him. "I was being chased by this group of beasts.... I couldn't look back, but i could hear them panting heavily and constanly barking. Just before I escaped, though... One that was gigantic chased after me. I only caught a glimpse of it and I saw its six eyes and three pairs of jaws coming right at me..."

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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Razdriel on Sun Sep 21, 2014 3:19 pm

Razdriel didn't answer Azrael as he prepped the house for whatever came.  He did brood, though.  'Getting along for the sake a survival.'  What the hell did she think he was doing?  He could be miles away by now and left the two of them to fend for themselves as soon as she showed up.  The Angel of Death was more than enough to protect the other halfling.  In hindsight, his curiosity should have been overrode by survival instincts.  But, it hadn't, and now he'd have to deal with some sulfuric creature.  It was what it was, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

The man rolled his eyes as Jericho corrected him about his name.  It was a habit.  On the seas or in the foxhole, nicknames abounded.  With high turnover rates when it came to comrades, using nicknames put a small wall up between Raz and others.  It made any untimely end easier to cope with so life could roll forward.  And, frankly, Razdriel wasn't going to stop.  At the thought of the dead soldiers, pirates, people he had served with, his thoughts looped back on Azrael.  No, it wasn't fair for her, but she was the Angel of Death and Raz couldn't associate her without thinking of all the people he lost over the years.

Needing space, the Goliath of a half-breed headed for the kitchen.  Hopefully, there was a bag of salt somewhere in there.  Farming communities had it, right?  For pickling and preserves.

The description of the hellhound made Razdriel freeze.  Centuries old stories swarmed his mind as he turned to face the two.  His brows furrowed, his gaze latched onto Jericho, "Cerberus.  If what you say is true, you're being chased by Cerberus."

He had thought that particular creature was a myth, constructed by human fears.  How silly of him.  With the stories that paddled through his grey matter came old threats - "Begone, lest Cerberus comes to bite you hindquarters" was popular - the villagers used to hurl at him while growing up.  Razdriel pinched the bridge of his nose, his mind spinning with tales and mythos concerning the beast. Mixed feeling of excitement and dread curled inside Raz.

"Regular hellhounds are hard enough to deal with.  But Cerberus may be a different breed altogether."  Razdriel ducked into the kitchen as he thought aloud to the other two.  The goosebumps in his arms were starting to tingle.  Perhaps it was his imagination, but the smell of sulfur seemed to be growing stronger.  Raz hoped it was his imagination.  

After a brief cacophony of slamming cupboards, the half-breed found what he wanted and returned to the living room, hauling a large bag of salt. After slicing a hole in its top, the man began pouring handfuls of salt along window sills.  He half turned as he addressed his companions, "Anyone got information or ideas on how to deal with this particular hound?"
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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Azrael on Sun Sep 21, 2014 4:49 pm

Az was hoping Razdriel would have made some sort of remark to her question, but all she got was silence. Not too surprising, though it didn't exactly put her in the best of moods. On the bright side, he wasn't arguing with her anymore. Maybe that was a step in the right direction.

She did have to smirk a bit when Jericho called him out on the nickname thing. At least she wasn't the only one annoyed by it. But obviously, she'd been raised in a much different world than the Daeva. Nicknames were seen as informal for angels, and in hindsight, almost inappropriate. You just...didn't shorten names - especially angel names - when you barely knew the person. But there he was trotting off to do who-knew-what as Jericho went on with his story.

That earlier smile was completely wiped off the angel's face in an instant. Razdriel spoke first from the other room, and all the while, Azrael just stared at Jericho, not really sure what to say for several moment. "What in the hell did you do to piss off Hades's lapdog?" suddenly burst forth. Granted, Az hadn't seen Hades in a very long time, but she knew it was fairly easy to get on his bad side. Or Cerberus's for that matter.

Az was busy pinching the bridge of her nose - ignoring the ever-growing smell of sulfur and the dread of fighting off that stupid three-headed mutt - when Raz walked back into the room.

"Hades is technically my area of jurisdiction. Cerberus? Not so much," the angel admitted. "I haven't even either of them in...what, at least two thousand years? I'm surprised they're still around considering people don't pray much to the Greek Pantheon these days...sorry, off-topic," she grumbled. Kind of a bad habit of Az to ramble when she was nervous.

"What I do know is that Cerberus is, quite frankly, horrible at talking to people. He can, don't mistake the fangs for an inability to communicate, he just never wants to. And the fact that he's chasing you in particular - " she stared hard at Jericho " - probably means you were in the Underworld for a reason.

"What exactly did you do? Or do you even remember? Because the only way I see us dealing with that three-headed idiot is to appease whatever you did downstairs."

Or cutting all three heads off, but that seemed like a stupid idea.

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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Jericho on Sun Sep 21, 2014 6:22 pm

"I did nothing!" Jericho smashed part of the wall nearest to him, turning to her with a growl. "For centuries, I've been imprisoned and tortured with no end... And for what? Not even I know..." This dark aura seemed to starts to leak from him... Of anger and of pain. His body tensed of and he shut his eyes, trying to prevent himself from feeling the torture from his mind. With a growl, he turned to the angel if death. "All I remember is the death of my father, the shrieks of my mother, and the agony I was put through.... To be out in this world and it's silence... To smell its fresh air... Not feeling any agonizing torment," he then looked at Razdriel. "To see someone who is like me..." And his gaze went back to her. "And the sight of something as beautiful as yourself... This all is a big relief to me."

The name of Cerberus had the man turn to Razdriel. "So you know of its name, but not how to bring it down?" He sighed with a look of defeat. He wasn't sure how he would try to go against the beast except run. But for how long must he run? For an eternity? Maybe. He would. But these two were now probably involved in this because he had it follow him, and if he were to see them both, what would become of them? Most likely the same fate... With a sigh, Jericho shook his head. "You two should run... Now. As fast as you can... It's after me, not either of you. I won't ask you to fight for or with me either." He wasn't going to run, apparently. He'd fight, and he would do all he could to combat the beast for the sake of staying in this world.

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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Jericho on Sun Sep 21, 2014 6:37 pm

The ground started to shake and rumble beneath the land they stood on, and thing within the house started to vibrate and move, falling on the ground to shatter beneath their feet. The wind blew hard against the house, making it tilt and wave around! The sound of cracking wood was also heard, and it was then shown that the house will not stand any longer! Their shelter is going to collapse!

Not far away at all, where the epicenter of this earthquake was, the ground started to crack, and fire spewed forth from the earth! Things were definitely heating up... With a jolt, the cracks opened more, showing the molten magma below the earths crust! Hell hounds started rushing out from the ground now with the fire, snarling and drooling their boiling saliva while smoke and embers flew from their nostrils. One of them, which was a larger of the hell hounds, had howled and rushed forward towards the farm house with the pack of a dozen behind him...
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Re: The Wasteland

Post by Razdriel on Sun Sep 21, 2014 7:08 pm

After Azrael's shocked inquiry and Jericho's justified outburst, Raz shot the Angel of Death a sharp look, "Az - half-breeds, halflings, whatever we are - are not welcome in Heaven or in Hell, especially in the eyes of traditionalists like Luci and Mike.  I kept my head down, since I found out.  I'm lucky I wasn't skinned alive before then."

Jericho's aura put Razdriel's mental state on edge.  He could feel heat on his shoulder blades - simply a phantom sensation for wings Raz did not have - and his muscles tensed.  The scent of sulfur wasn't helping.  His mind reeled for a moment.  The hellhounds had their scents.  Raz was as good as found out if the hellhounds continued to scent Jericho.  There was no point in running, now.  Besides, leaving Jericho behind now wouldn't feel right to Raz.  The man sounded as if he had been held captive for a long time, and probably for being a half-breed.  If Raz turned his back on Jericho, he couldn't blame anyone for doing the same to him.

So, that left fighting, at least for Razdriel.  First step, know your pursuers.  Raz twiddled his dagger, absentmindedly, between his fingers and paced as he thought aloud, "What do we know about Cerberus?  He has three heads, apparently he talks,"  Razdriel nodded to Azrael and continued to pace, "He's chasing Jeri and probably has a pack of hounds with hi-"

The shuddering of the house cut Razdriel's thought process short.  He stopped short and growled as his gaze flicked to the salt and sigils.  The sigils would do little good against a hellhound, but the salt was scattering with every vibration.  Alright, so all the preparations had been asinine.  He sheathed his hunting knife to give his hands freedom.  Raz refrained from drawing his weapons just yet.  Would the house offer any protection, now?  It would obscure their view and give the hellhounds the benefit of blind areas.  

"Mythology, what do you know of Cerberus's mythos, Az?" Razdriel snarled above the creaking boards. Beneath the sound of a creaking house, he could hear the howls echoing on the air. An electric tingle shot down his spine.  Where were they coming from?  Razdriel stalked to the back of the house, through the kitchen, to the back door, "Wasn't there something that appeased Cerberus, when one wanted into Hades?"
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Re: The Wasteland

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