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(Retry) The Gray Garden: A Nightmarish Return (OOC/Started/Not Currently Accepting)


Wind Rider

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Welcome to The Gray Garden, a world of beautiful meadows and forests, where angels and demons live peacefully with one another. However, it was not always as peaceful as it is now, in fact it was horrible. Hundreds of years ago, angels and demons fought against each other in a bloody war, with both sides receiving heavy casualties. This war lasted for many years, until the god, Etihw, and the devil, Kcalb, ended it all peacefully. A peace treaty was made and the war had ended, angels and demons had been at peace ever since.

Now it is time for the Gray Festival, a celebration made to commemorate the many years of peace The Gray Garden has seen. This celebration is also open to more than the denizens of The Gray Garden, Kcalb and Etihw have sent invitations to other worlds too, making the Gray Festival quite the event. However, this celebration may soon be ruined, for a name has begun to float through the air, a long forgotten name, a name that Kcalb had hoped to never hear uttered again.












So, this is a thing... Again. Last time, due to inactivity, this rp didn't get far. I am willing to give this another shot as it did manage to get started, but of course, it's whether or not you all want to join. I'm not the best rper, I'm not the best host, but just give me a chance. I promise that I will provide any at all info that you need to start a character, and I'll be sure to provide situations for all your characters. That is, if you want to give this another shot too.



[spoiler=Locations]The Gray Garden: A world of beautiful meadows, clear skies, and peaceful creatures. Unlike other worlds, where angels and demons either despise or just don't see eye to eye with each other, angels and demons live together in peace and harmony here. The Gray Garden is ruled by the god, Etihw, and the devil, Kcalb, and it's no secret that the two love each other. The two deities watch over the world from Blancblack Castle and occasionally go down to Gray Village to chat with the locals.

The Great Blue Sea: A enormous ocean that stretches as far as the eye can see. Many islands dot the surface of the sea, some of which are inhabited by familiars, animal-like humanoids who are peaceful by nature. Underneath the sea lies a large city of underwater familiars and sea animals, they are ruled by the benevolent princess, Uomi. Across the sea, lies the Totsusa Kingdom, a land of beast familiars, and at the very edge, lies the Arctic, a barely habitable region with few villages spread across the icy land.

The Flame World: Once thought to be a world all on its own, the Flame World is actually the hell of the World of the Sun. The god, Siralos, is responsible for the creation of the suns in every world and is by all rights, one of the strongest gods of any world. The devil, Ivlis, once tried to invade the Gray Garden in the hopes of stealing Kcalb's power, a plot that he would use to gain enough power to kill Siralos. He was stopped however, and was later captured by Reficul and Satanick, two devils from separate worlds, leaving the Flame World to fend for itself without a devil. It has been much more peaceful since then, but tensions are still high between the Flame World and the Gray Garden.

Reficul and Satanick's Worlds: Two worlds that are not known by name. The one thing that can be said is that both worlds are very dark in atmosphere, with Satanick's being darker than any other. The two can be seen as opposites, with Reficul and her world being rather laid back and peaceful, and Satanick and his world being borderline crazy and unpredictable. The two do share a common theme, as both have angels, demons, and familiars that share characteristics with scarier animals, such as bugs, snakes, and spiders.

Magic World: A world of everlasting twilight, where Witches and Wizards are born. This world is highly in tune with the power of magic, making the atmosphere heavy for people who are not from here. The Magic World, and all those who live in it, are kept under the watch of the Great Witch, a powerful being of which all Witches and Wizards answer to. She has spies in many other worlds, keeping her up to date with all the events that happen.



[spoiler=Races]Angels: Holy beings of light that are characterized by their fluffy white wings and glowing halos. In combat, they take a more supportive role by healing and granted buffs to their allies. But that hasn't stopped some angels from going on the offensive with weapons and spells associated with elements such as fire, ice, and of course, light.

Demons: Beings of flame and/or darkness who are characterized by having horns, pointed tails, scaly wings, or a combination of the three. In combat, demons are more offensive than angels, some being reckless with how much damage they cause, while others take the brunt of the damage dealt to them as borderline tanks.

Familiars: Animal-like humanoids that can take the form of the beast they are based on. (Ex: A wolf familiar can take the form of a large wolf, a shark familiar can take the form of a large shark, etc.) Familiars are wide spread across multiple worlds, making them an adaptable race. Familiars are sometimes employed by Witches and Wizards, serving as travel companions or bodyguards. They can use a variety of weapons and magic depending on their species of animal, and can rely on their animalistic abilities as well, such as heightened senses, super strength, etc.

Witches/Wizards: Magical, elf-like creatures who can wield a variety of powerful spells and enchantments. Each Witch/Wizard is free to use whatever element or type of magic they so choose and some skilled Witches/Wizards can even wield multiple elements. They are highly curious by nature and are prone to traveling a lot, as a result they usually employ Familiars to aid them in their travels.



[spoiler=Character App]Name:

Age: (Angels, Demons, and Witches/Wizards can live for an exceptionally long time, they can appear young but can be hundreds of years old)

Gender: male, female, or neither

Race: Angel, Demon, Familiar, or Witch/Wizard

Appearance: (A picture or at least a paragraph will do)

Personality: (A paragraph at least)

Bio: (1-2 paragraphs)

Misc: (Trivia about your character, a theme song, etc.)



[spoiler=Accepted Apps]radio414 - Rogee, the Conductor Magician

TheKing070701 - Valci, the Spoiled Flame Demon

Htamret - Koviax, the Hybrid Creation

Asriel Dreemurr - Abaddon, the Veteran Angel

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Hi, sorry. I'm interested, but after the application got posted I didn't want to post unless I had something more substantial to post. So here's that:

[spoiler=It’s Pronounced “Raw-Jee”]

 

“You can’t rush through things. But going too slow is just as bad.”

Name: Rogee Biff

 

Age: 237

 

Gender: Male

 

Race: Wizard

 

Appearance: Whether because of his relative youth or simply because of the whims of the universe, Rogee is a little shorter than most. Not incredibly so, maybe just a few inches. Just enough for his medium-length hair to be at most people’s eye level. When they look down, they see his green eyes and, frankly, average face. He keeps it clean, but doesn’t really do much more than that. To him, people are ideally looking at his back as he conducts, which is why he wears a dark green cloak, something akin to a poncho with a small gold hummingbird as a clasp around his neck.

 

Rogee’s not as agile as his magic might suggest. He uses enough to appear slightly more graceful, but he’s not athletic enough to do anything more than that. That isn’t to say he’s clumsy without it, just normal. But when given the opportunity to be more than that, why be normal?

 

There are two items Rogee is seldom found without: his conductor’s baton, which also functions as a wand of sorts when he is performing solo, and his flute. There are no magical qualities about this flute, but he believes it is lucky. He keeps these items, along with any other small, miscellaneous things he may need to carry around with him, in a small beige knapsack.

 

Personality: Rogee’s wizard curiosity generally manifests itself in his love of music. He especially loves hearing new kinds, whether that be a completely new tune or even new instruments playing an older one. This is why he studies the magic he does. He primarily focuses on wind magic, only dabbling into other forms when it allows him to play a new instrument.

 

That isn’t to say that he’s carefree. Music is a series of formal systems, and he keeps himself to the same standards. He keeps to a strict schedule composed primarily of study and performance with only very occasional rest breaks. Often, this strictness applies to other beings in his life as well. Disruption of his schedule, acting in a way that he considers beneath himself, to even just playing slightly off-tempo, these are all things that he takes very seriously and is willing to seek retribution against anyone who would dare disrupt this natural order of things.

 

People who do manage to put up with Rogee, whether that be by playing their part to perfection or simply spending way too much time in proximity for him to avoid them, are in turn able to be let into the more insecure side of him. Even if he is the best -- and given the circles he frequents, that’s a pretty big if -- he certainly doesn’t believe it. That’s why he acts the way he does; it’s his misguided attempt to climb towards a summit he believes he can never reach.

 

Biography: Rogee attended his first concert when he was very young. Accompanying the orchestra were some dancers, who gave a majestic performance depicting a tale of change from winter to spring. Rogee felt the primal nature of their movements and while that, combined with more than a little weather-affecting magic, was certainly impressive, what inspired him the most was the orchestra. The conductor was the only one in the pit, and he was controlling dozens of instruments. No trumpet blared without their permission. No drum pounded without their say-so. There was a moment near the end of the performance where, during a grand crescendo, it seemed like the conductor rose out of the ground through sheer force of will. They were no longer directing just the instruments in the orchestra pit, it seemed like they were directing the entire world.

 

Rogee never got the conductor’s name.

 

But now he had ambition. Now he had a want and an incredibly long life ahead of him to achieve it. He was gifted his first instrument, a small flute, less than a month later, and he studied and practiced like his life depended on it. During his first recital, he made two wrong notes, and his flute was later found broken in two places, disposed of far away from his home. His second flute had to be bought.

 

His other studies lagged behind. If it didn’t relate to music, he really wasn’t interested. And to be fair, he did eventually make a name for himself in the world of music. But there is always someone mentioned in the same sentence as him. He never stands alone.

 

There is a dream Rogee has from time to time. It started a few years after that first concert, and reoccurs at seemingly random intervals, but he only recognizes it as a dream after he wakes up:

 

The dream always starts with him chasing the horizon, because beyond the horizon, always just a bit further than the horizon allows you to see, there is a large orchestra playing an endless symphony. Every instrument ever created -- from early drums to harpsichords to grand brass and woodwinds at the forefront of their time, even triangles and experimental instruments -- is present. At the head of the band is a mysterious conductor, someone Rogee is familiar with, but cannot identify.

 

Each instrument has been designated its own color. It is the brass section that plays the loudest and largest reds that one could ever see. The woodwinds control the pastoral colors -- greens are the oboes’ particular forte. And so on and so on. If it has a shade, it has an instrument.

 

Nighttime and daytime are constant chords -- long fermatas punctuated by the constant “tings” and “bangs” of the percussion. Musically interesting, perhaps, but too meditative for most listeners. But the reason Rogee searches for this hidden orchestra, is to see the sunrise.

 

He arrives at midnight, the darkest point in the symphony’s performance. It only gets brighter from there. Slowly, the bassoon of night and triangle of the stars fade out and everything becomes a dull monochrome. Then, as color fades from the world, a new instrument plays. A solo flute, the color of yellow, strikes a line along the horizon. Then the strings come in. Cellos, violas, violins. The deeper ones play the shadows, long and stretching, while the lighter ones play the retreating night sky.

 

Rogee keeps moving forwards, as more flutes join in, and the yellow line becomes bigger. It becomes more intense. There isn’t any brass yet, but the first few chairs are readying their instruments, and the conductor has moved his baton over to them.

 

The second color -- or third if you include the black nighttime sky -- is orange to orangish-red. Trombones and Baritones. Big sousaphones too. They play in bass harmony with the woodwinds, many of whom have begun to play again. The world is getting brighter. At this point Rogee is meters away from the orchestra pit. He can see all these instruments, and the conductor starts to turn towards him.

 

And then…

 

And then Rogee wakes up. He is always covered in sweat. He always resolves to recognize that it is a dream, to slip into that lucid state where he could just get a better look, or even just stay long enough to see a glimpse of the sun. But he never does.

 

Miscellaneous: (I don't have anything off the top of my head, but if you have any questions I can answer them here)

 

I'm deciding on whether or not to use either skype or discord, so I'll leave the decision to all of you.

If this is still on the table, Discord is, like, actual free and not terrible, so I'd rather that. Though I'm fine using the OoC thread if it doesn't get too cluttered.
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Hi, sorry. I'm interested, but after the application got posted I didn't want to post unless I had something more substantial to post. So here's that:

[spoiler=It’s Pronounced “Raw-Jee”]

 

“You can’t rush through things. But going too slow is just as bad.”

 Name: Rogee Biff

 Age: 237

 Gender: Male

 Race: Wizard

 Appearance: Whether because of his relative youth or simply because of the whims of the universe, Rogee is a little shorter than most. Not incredibly so, maybe just a few inches. Just enough for his medium-length hair to be at most people’s eye level. When they look down, they see his green eyes and, frankly, average face. He keeps it clean, but doesn’t really do much more than that. To him, people are ideally looking at his back as he conducts, which is why he wears a dark green cloak, something akin to a poncho with a small gold hummingbird as a clasp around his neck.

 

Rogee’s not as agile as his magic might suggest. He uses enough to appear slightly more graceful, but he’s not athletic enough to do anything more than that. That isn’t to say he’s clumsy without it, just normal. But when given the opportunity to be more than that, why be normal?

 

There are two items Rogee is seldom found without: his conductor’s baton, which also functions as a wand of sorts when he is performing solo, and his flute. There are no magical qualities about this flute, but he believes it is lucky. He keeps these items, along with any other small, miscellaneous things he may need to carry around with him, in a small beige knapsack.

 Personality: Rogee’s wizard curiosity generally manifests itself in his love of music. He loves music, and especially loves hearing new kinds, whether that be a completely new tune or even new instruments playing an older one. This is why he studies the magic he does. He is primarily focused on wind magic, only dabbling into other forms when it allows him to play a new instrument.

 

That isn’t to say that he’s carefree. Music is a series of formal systems, and he keeps himself to the same standards. He keeps to a strict schedule composed primarily of study and performance with only very occasional rest breaks. Often, this strictness applies to other beings in his life as well. Disruption of his schedule, acting in a way that he considers beneath himself, to even just playing slightly off-tempo, these are all things that he takes very seriously and is willing seek retribution against anyone who would dare disrupt this natural order of things.

 

People who do manage to put up with Rogee, whether that be by playing their part to perfection or simply spending way too much time in proximity for him to avoid them, are in turn able to be let into the more insecure side of him. Even if he is the best -- and given the circles he frequents, that’s a pretty big if -- he certainly doesn’t believe it. That’s why he acts the way he does; it’s his misguided attempt to climb towards a summit he believes he can never reach.

 Biography: Rogee attended his first concert when he was very young. Accompanying the orchestra were some dancers, who gave a majestic performance depicting a tale of change from winter to spring. Rogee felt the primal nature of their movements and while that, combined with more than a little weather-affecting magic, was certainly impressive, what inspired him the most was the orchestra. The conductor was the only one in the pit, and he was controlling dozens of instruments. No trumpet blared without their permission. No drum pounded without their say-so. There was a moment near the end of the performance where, during a grand crescendo, it seemed like the conductor rose out of the ground through sheer force of will. They were no longer directing just the instruments in the orchestra pit, it seemed like they were directing the entire world.

 

Rogee never got the conductor’s name.

 

But now he had ambition. Now he had a want and an incredibly long life ahead of him to achieve it. He was gifted his first instrument, a small flute, less than a month later, and he studied and practiced like his life depended on it. During his first recital, he made two wrong notes, and his flute was later found broken in two places, disposed of far away from his home. His second flute had to be bought.

 

His other studies lagged behind. If it didn’t relate to music, he really wasn’t interested. And to be fair, he did eventually make a name for himself in the world of music. But there is always someone mentioned in the same sentence as him. He never stands alone.

 

There is a dream Rogee has from time to time. It started a few years after that first concert, and reoccurs at seemingly random intervals, but he only recognizes it as a dream after he wakes up:

 

The dream always starts with him chasing the horizon, because beyond the horizon, always just a bit further than the horizon allows you to see, there is a large orchestra playing an endless symphony. Every instrument ever created -- from early drums to harpsichords to grand brass and woodwinds at the forefront of their time, even triangles and experimental instruments -- is present. At the head of the band is a mysterious conductor, someone Rogee is familiar with, but cannot identify.

 

Each instrument has been designated its own color. It is the brass section that plays the loudest and largest reds that one could ever see. The woodwinds control the pastoral colors -- greens are the oboes’ particular forte. And so on and so on. If it has a shade, it has an instrument.

 

Nighttime and daytime are constant chords -- long fermatas punctuated by the constant “tings” and “bangs” of the percussion. Musically interesting, perhaps, but too meditative for most listeners. But the reason Rogee searches for this hidden orchestra, is to see the sunrise.

 

He arrives at midnight, the darkest point in the symphony’s performance. It only gets brighter from there. Slowly, the bassoon of night and triangle of the stars fade out and everything becomes a dull monochrome. Then, as color fades from the world, a new instrument plays. A solo flute, the color of yellow, strikes a line along the horizon. Then the strings come in. Cellos, violas, violins. The deeper ones play the shadows, long and stretching, while the lighter ones play the retreating night sky.

 

Rogee keeps moving forwards, as more flutes join in, and the yellow line becomes bigger. It becomes more intense. There isn’t any brass yet, but the first few chairs are readying their instruments, and the conductor has moved his baton over to them.

 

The second color -- or third if you include the black nighttime sky -- is orange to orangish-red. Trombones and Baritones. Big sousaphones too. They play in bass harmony with the woodwinds, many of whom have begun to play again. The world is getting brighter. At this point Rogee is meters away from the orchestra pit. He can see all these instruments, and the conductor starts to turn towards him.

 

And then…

 

And then Rogee wakes up. He is always covered in sweat. He always resolves to recognize that it is a dream, to slip into that lucid state where he could just get a better look, or even just stay long enough to see a glimpse of the sun. But he never does.

 Miscellaneous: (I don't have anything off the top of my head, but if you have any questions I can answer them here)

 

 

If this is still on the table, Discord is, like, actual free and not terrible, so I'd rather that. Though I'm fine using the OoC thread if it doesn't get too cluttered.

Nice character, I like the musical theme you have for him. You're in.

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Name: Abaddon

Age: Ancient, likely thousands of years old.

Gender: Male

Race: Angel

[spoiler=Appearance:]

icPd644.png

Standing at around average height for an Angel, Abbadon is not quite as imposing as one might expect of a survivor of the war. Though he is clearly of athletic build, at first glance he hardly seems like anything special. His fair skin and golden hair are far from uncommon, and while his preferred clothing is generally of an older style than what most in the Gray World prefer it is hardly worth a second glance. Even the second pair of wings sprouting from his back are not unheard of, and while it is known that Angels do not age as dramatically as the other races his youthful appearance does not quite match what someone would expect from an angel old enough to have fought in the war. The signs of Abaddon's age are indeed far more subtle than the immense size and facial scars that someone would expect from a veteran of the war. A certain stiffness in his posture and stride, a certain sadness in his expression, the way he becomes more formal around demons. Furthermore, upon close inspection it can be seen that his four wings are in fact prosthetics. Very well designed, nearly perfect mimicries of the feathery appendages that they should have been, but artificially melded to his flesh all the same.

 

 

[spoiler=Personality:]

About as far from the heartless killing machine he was known as by Demons, or the vicious and uncompromising commander the Angels knew, during the war, Abaddon often presents himself as a kind, if distant, mentor to the youth of the Gray World. He offers advice when he is asked for it, and is more than happy to spend an afternoon speaking to younger Angels and Demons alike sharing a cup of tea. Not prone to displays of emotion, even the slightest frown from him is often the equivalent of another's shouting match; the faintest smile the highest of praises. In spite of, or perhaps because of, this emotional distance he keeps, Abaddon does everything he can to be as free with words and information as he can. This often includes stories from the war, occasionally edited for age-appropriate content. What might surprise some people is that the stories he tell often fairly represent the Demons and outright condemn certain actions he and the other Angels took during the war.

 

Along with this comes a definite lack of ill will towards demons, with the exception of certain personae non gratae from the Flame World. When questioned as to why he is so tolerant, he quite simply reminds whoever is asking that hostilities between Angels and Demons officially ended hundreds of years ago and that Etihw, the Goddess he serves, was instrumental in establishing it. For that reason he does what he can, perhaps not to encourage the peace but at the very least not to do harm to it. On the subject of Etiwh, he treats her as a knight does their liege-lord. That is to say, if she asks that something be done and Abaddon is in earshot of her he sees it done personally. This attitude does not extend to Kcalb, whom Abaddon treats courteously enough but shows very little respect for his authority. In truth, the ancient Angel has little respect for any Devil and just as little for the rare Demon that is his peer in age. Though he claims to uphold the peace, there is indeed bad blood that remains.

 

 

[spoiler=Bio:]

For all the discrepancies between his more modern presentation of himself and the legends spawned about him during the war and during its aftermath, this calm but distant man is the very same Abaddon who fought alongside Ciel, Sherbet, and Rigatona on Etihw's behalf during the war. While each of those three had a single preferred method of combat with which their names became synonymous, Abaddon instead utilized a variety of weapons in fighting. Because of his experience using a multitude of weapons he developed an understanding for their place on the battlefield; his dispassionate and analytical mind turned that understanding into practical knowledge which allowed him to expertly command forces on the field of battle. It did not take him long to earn the reputation of a skillful commander among Angels both from the Gray world and beyond, which in turn saw him leading his force of one thousand into nearly every theater of that cataclysmic war. It also saw him run head-first into Bael.

 

Bael was a demonic commander who was in many ways Abaddon's equal, and at the same time everything he was not. Bold, confident, and of inspiring charisma, Bael could convince his soldiers to follow his orders and fight with zealous fury simply through force of personality. It was because of his continued meeting of his demonic foil on the field of battle that Abaddon became as uncompromising as he did. His soldiers needed to be the best, or they would die against those Bael led against them. He needed to take advantage of every slight flaw in his opponent's strategy that could be found or he would lose and an entire front could be lost with it. In truth, Bael was forced to similarly desperate measures by Abaddon. Their continued meetings eventually saw the two meet in personal combat as a battle their forces descended into soured into a confusing mess, and they needed to personally direct the front lines. Firsthand accounts of their duel are at times confused for describing a duel between a God and a Devil, with the ground cracking beneath the force of their blows, the sound of their weapons clashing reverberating like thunder, and the magic each flung at the other laying waste to vast swathes of ground until their soldiers were forced to part around them for fear of being slain by an errant blow or spell. What is best remembered by most about this first duel of theirs is its end, when Bael tore Abaddon's wings from his back and cast him against the ground broken and barely alive. His soldiers retrieved him from the field and retreated behind friendly lines to get him medical treatment.

 

Abaddon swiftly made a full recovery, thanks in no small part to attention Etihw herself paid to one of her chosen warriors, but was left without his wings. Not content to fight on the ground, he sought out a means of permanently replacing his wings. It was for that reason that he took a leave of absence from the war and went to the only place that it had not touched. Even in those days the Magic World was protected from those who would do it harm, though its neutrality at this early time was bought by the promise of forces to both sides and a lack of desire for either side to give up the much needed support from witches and wizards. To hear Abaddon tell the story, he struck a deal with the Great Witch herself wherein he captured four phoenixes to serve as her familiars and in exchange she took one wing from each of them to restore his flight. However, there is no record of any such thing occurring, though there are also no records contradicting his story. What is known with certainty is that after an extended leave of absence in the Magic World, Abaddon returned with new golden wings in place of the white ones he had lost and once more led his forces into the fray. Prior to once more marching forth with his legion, he was given two weapons by Etihw. The first was a two-handed spear of baneful power to battle the enormous beasts the Demons let loose onto the field. The second was a one-handed sword, made specifically so that no magic could stop its edge.

 

Bael was not immediately able to answer his foil's return to the field of battle, and all others who stood before Abaddon and his angels fell like leaves in Autumn. During this time he and his one thousand massacred the Demons wherever they found them, at times routing entire formations simply with their arrival and cutting them down by the thousand on their charge. By allies and enemies alike they were soon called the Apocalypse Legion, for when they entered battle it was as if the end of days had come. Abaddon himself began to be called the Archangel of the Apocalypse, and he did everything in his power to live up to the title.

 

When Bael's forces and the Apocalypse Legion finally clashed again, both sides made certain for that all who saw them fight would think they had unleashed the End of Time. The Archdemon and the Archangel met for a repeat of their duel early in the battle, and once more made a terrifying show of things as they sought to rip each other apart. The duel was eventually decided when Abaddon pierced Bael's magical defenses with his sword and dispelled them from within, at which point he buried his spear into the Archdemon's torso before holding him aloft for all to see as his life drained out. His soldiers did him proud, even as his broken corpse was thrown back into their midst they did not break rank and instead fought on in a berserk frenzy which left the field upon which they fought a churned mire of earth and blood. In the aftermath of this battle, though his forces were severely reduced, Abaddon and the Apocalypse Legion went on to be a force of such destruction in the war that they remained in high demand across all theaters.

 

When the call for peace went out, with the voices of Etihw and Kcalb the first to make it, Abaddon and his legion were far from home contributing to yet another push against the Demons. Believing some sort of trickery afoot, they returned to the Gray World with all possible haste and arrived ready to do battle. That it was Kcalb who first welcomed their return was an unfortunate misstep, and the resulting violence required Etihw's intervention. In spite of the rocky start, Abaddon and his soldiers gradually settled into the peace that had been built. Though he was a source of tension for quite some time after the war's end, the Archangel himself eventually let go of his distaste for the majority of Demonkind. With Etihw's decision to uphold this peace apparently final, Abaddon made for himself a home in the principal village within the Gray World, and eventually opened something of a Tea Shop at which the residents were welcome.

 

With the Gray Festival approaching, Abaddon has been busy as he usually is in assisting with setting it up and helping to run security in between making certain his shop is appropriately stocked to deal with the increased visitor traffic.

 

 

[spoiler=Abilities]

Aura of Emptiness: A technique peculiar to Angels of the Gray World, and a staple of the Apocalypse Legion. When active, Abaddon’s resistance to all forms of magic increases, as does that of nearby allies. Those under its effects glow with a faint gray light. Like most of his specific abilities, this technique is no longer taught in the Gray World and has not been since some time after the war.

 

Consuming Aura: This once widespread technique empowers Abaddon’s attacks, as well as those of his allies, to leach away some of his enemies’ magic power with every strike while active. Recognizable by the gray fog, or smoke, that can be seen trailing off of those affected by it, just the sight of it once made Demons quake with fear. When hostilities officially ended between Angels and Demons, it was decided that this, along with most other techniques specific to the Gray World, would no longer be taught.

 

Silence: Reaching his hand out and making a crushing gesture towards his target, Abaddon prevents them from making use of their magical abilities. Named for the strangled choking those afflicted by it make when they attempt to speak, this too was once considered a staple ability of the Gray World. Though the specific set of powers it belongs to is no longer taught, practitioners of other forms of magic have been able to replicate the ability to silence their foes.

 

Disruption: Delivered through a strike with a weapon or empty hand, this technique dispels any magical effects active on the target and leaves them incapable of being so affected for a short time thereafter. Those so disrupted are easily visible by the gray fog which clings to their bodies.

 

Vampiric Strike: Abaddon imparts a weapon in his hand, or one held by one of his allies, with power and it glows with gray light for a time. The next strike with that weapon drains the life force of the target and channels it back into its wielder.

 

Void Lash: The blade of a held weapon becomes wreathed in gray fog, and is then brought about in a slash. The fog disperses, and an almost imperceptible wave of force rushes forward out to a moderate range. Capable of striking multiple targets at the same time, it was with this technique that Abaddon could lay waste to many foes at once during the war.

 

Gray Lance: A pale gray light begins to glow about one of Abaddon’s hands, and then with a flourish shoots outwards in a beam towards his target. Though it strikes only a single target, the beam is incredibly harmful and leaves those who survive being struck by it feeling empty and cold.

 

The Pit: A technique which Abaddon has been unambiguously forbidden from teaching to anyone for any reasons, this could be considered the ultimate among the old Angel’s abilities. Through force of will and magical exertion, he tears a short-lived hole in reality which rapidly draws everything around it into itself. For those trapped inside, there is little chance of escape and death is almost certain. After a time, the rift closes itself and the world buckles around it with explosive force.

 

Angelic Flight: Though they are not his original wings, the replacements serve Abaddon every bit as well as his original ones ever did. He is a capable flyer, able to reach high speeds and maneuver through the air with little effort.

 

Skill at Arms: As long ago as the war was, Abaddon has never ceased training with and without his weapons in the case that he ever needs to step into the breach again. While the lengthy list of challengers he vanquished during the war is enough proof for many, occasionally someone will not believe the accounts and challenge him themselves. He has yet to meet a modern foe who could best him as Bael did.

 

 

[spoiler=Equipment]

The Gray Blade: Gifted to him by Etihw herself, this blade has never failed its master. In response to the prevalence of magical protection in those days, this weapon was made in such a way that it could not be stopped by any such things.

 

The Slaying Spear: The other weapon gifted to him by Etihw after he had recovered from his defeat at the hands of Bael, this spear has no special properties in terms of defenses it can penetrate. However, each of its strikes is filled with an unnatural force capable of shattering boulders and fatally wounding even the largest of beasts.

 

The Golden Sword of Bael: A trophy taken from Bael's broken corpse as a sign of his victory, this infernal blade has stayed at Abaddon's side since the war ended. The perfect addition to his arsenal, it cleanly cuts through physical defenses as if they did not exist at all.

 

The Ivory Bow: The first weapon Abaddon ever wielded during the war, this bow is an often forgotten piece of his arsenal. After all, shooting Demons apart by the dozen at range is not so exciting a subject of legend as his duels with their commanders or hunts after enormous beasts. When its string is drawn back, this bow spawns arrows made of pure white crystal which fly swiftly to their target and do not easily miss. Originally pure white, the black patches on the bow were added after the war ended at Etihw's suggestion.

 

Misc: Battle Theme - Disturbed, by Atom Music Audio

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Hi, this looks cool, but I'm wondering what exactly we'd be doing in this RP. You mentioned combat abilities in the races section, so will it be fighting focused, or more social? I'm interested, and (hopefully) my schedule should be juuuust open enough to join this. I can start working on an app pretty soon, so... yeah ^^;

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Hi, this looks cool, but I'm wondering what exactly we'd be doing in this RP. You mentioned combat abilities in the races section, so will it be fighting focused, or more social? I'm interested, and (hopefully) my schedule should be juuuust open enough to join this. I can start working on an app pretty soon, so... yeah ^^;

There will be combat, this will just focus primarily on character interaction and development

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Okay, thanks! I have a character forming in my head, I'll have an app up sometime soon, might ask a couple questions if anything comes up. How crazy can we go with magic? Obviously I'm not going to try and be OP, just wondering what you're expecting.

Nothing too crazy, we're gonna get stronger as we go

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