Darkness Meets Shadows (Bazantar/Open)

[brandon007]

Brandon was out walking on the plains of New Namek, as he tried to find a way off of the planet and maybe make his way home. He looked left and right, looking at the scenery and how strange it was as he started to approach a range of mountains.

"Seems like a dead end here..." He said as he was about to turn around, when he suddenly felt a pull on him that was trying to lead him into the mountains. "The hell?" He said, as he decided to follow his instincts, as he walked closer to the mountain, towards what he could see was a small cave opening. The Pull seemed to be leading him there, and as he got closer, he said "Hello?" to anyone, or anything that was nearby the cavern.

[Bazantar]

Bazantar lurked infront of the ancient shrine, facing the collapsed doorway which his clan had first emerged from. It still sat open to the air, the collapsed mountainside letting in shafts of light from the overhang.

Small offshoots tunnelled through the mountain now, little caves which circled around and would ultimately lead to this area if followed.

The demon namekian appeared to be having a conversation with himself, between various spells and incantations, hands massaging his crystal ball as shadows clouds rolled beneath it's surface, and a light glow seemed to circle around him.

He chuckled
"The uniters time has not come yet, you'll be going nowhere I should think" he continued whatever rituals he was invoking,
"Oh really now? Just try it, we'll see how well that works out for your kinsmen. I think however that I am tired of this line of conversation, your yapping is disturbing my ritual" He waves a hand dismissively and the glow disappeared. The swirling in the crystal ball however continued it's dark swirling.

The calling had been sent, a dark pull which would weigh upon the souls of all evil on or connected with namek. The villiage that Bazantar now found his kin living amoung had believed in a dark namekian named Screw, Bazantar himself had heard stories of a great evil from not so long ago. Even if neither born any fruit, Bazantar was more than happy for an excuse to evoke these incantations.

[brandon007]

Brandon heard the voice from inside, as he got even more curious so he ventured into the torn cavern, and saw what seemed to be a person near a crystal ball, talking to himself. He stood there quietly for a moment, wondering if he should interrupt his ritual at all.

But then it seemed the ritual was done, as Brandon gulped a bit nervously. He felt a vaguely familiar evil inside the person before him. It made his skin crawl as he said "Sorry, Am I interrupting anything sir?" as his black eyes blinked a few times, as he tried to determine what, or who this other person was.

Something deep down inside him, wanted to call this person brother. The reason eluded Brandon like a good mystery as Brandon felt a bit of his headaches come back. His mind trying to recall memories that had been erased. He let off a soft grunt as the pain threatened to beat his head in, but the pain soon subsided. "I-I can come back later if your busy sir..."

[Deleted]

The black and red Icejin, known by few as Azrael, had been singular minded in his goals since his brother's suicide the previous year. Right now his twin, Azmodan, was roaming the depths of hell searching for a long lost friend. He was completely against the idea for he did not wish to lose him again but Azmodan was insistent and ultimately Azrael respected his brother's wishes. Afterwards he had stood there motionless, for hours, just staring at his brother's cooling corpse.

Abruptly, and without a word, he left. Taking to the stars, Azrael traveled from one World Trade Organization planet to another, his obsession for "Ascension" once more at the forefront. His group of informants became larger as his search spread yet the information he received was as it always was; useless. Every promising tip lead to another disappointing dead end. Then a break came in the form of a Namekian who could not hold his booze.


Two weeks ago...


"Please sir... Have mercy..."

A brutalized Namekian sat hunched over in a chair. No ropes or chains bound him to the seat yet he found himself unable to move. The malicious being who he begged for mercy was the cause for his immobility. The being that stood just outside of the light, which came from a small fixture which hung directly above green prisoner's head, held him there with nothing more than a thought. The tormentor's telekinetic powers were in a league of their own and the lowly Namekian villager was no clearly no match for them. At the green man's feet lie a small pile of dismembered limbs freshly torn from their host.

"There is no mercy..."

The tormentor stepped forward, standing at the cusp of light and dark. His eyes glowed a haunting crimson and upon seeing them the Namekian began to sob quietly, as if to himself. The black and red Icejin that stood before him, draped in a jet black hooded cloak, felt no pity. The wretched Namekian, named Guls as Azrael discovered from his thoughts, had fled from New Namek to Kanassa, hoping for safe haven. It may have indeed been so, if not for his mouth. Like most Namekians, Guls had never left his home planet nevertheless had an alcoholic beverage. While he tried to drown out his conscience his lips loosened seemingly of their own free will. He told tales of an ancient evil awakeneing on New Namek and of a powerful warlock capable of terrifying feats. Not unlike most tales, this spread quickly until it fell upon the ears of the Angel of Death.

"For cowards."

It hadn't taken him long to pull the truth from Guls for, to his dismay, the Namekian knew little more of the great evil than what he already told. The Icejin would've stopped the "proceedings" after only the second or third arm, but he found unsettling truths pulsing in the prisoner's mind. In his hasty escape from the demonic Namekians, Guls had left his younger brother, of whom he was the sole caretaker, when he escaped. Left him for dead out of extreme cowardice. The memory of the night he awoke to find his older brother covered in blood and his twin nowhere to be seen took residence in the front of his mind. So Azrael stretched the punishment, so to speak, taking full advantage of Guls' natural regenerative ability in the most heinous of ways.

Reaching out, Azrael grabbed the green victim's face in his palm, pulling his head up so that their eyes met. He could feel the man begin to shake.

"Do not fear Guls for you will soon be free. Free from fear. Free from your own cowardice."

Were the last words the prisoner ever heard as the Icejin clenched his fist, crushing the green head. Stepping back he watched for a moment as blood poured from every orifice. Sure that the gland in his head which powered the regeneration had been crushed, along with his brain, Azrael waved a hand and the light flickered out.


Present day...


He had been roaming Namek's surface for the past two days, searching for the source of the evil. Then he felt a tug in a certain direction. Through the feel of it he could tell that magic was involved. He did not hesitate as he immediately honed in on the closest power signature to the source of the magic and instantly transmitted himself to the location, leaving only a small cloud of black smoke.

"I-I can come back later if your busy sir..."

He appeared in a dark corner of the room, surrounded by wisps of black smoke. In the center was a man and opposite him was a red skinned Namekian holding a crystal ball. When he appeared, shrouded in darkness, the eerie yellow eyes of the Namekian flickered over to the corner. His hood was pulled over his head and his tail receded into his cloak, revealing nothing of who, or what, he was. His power level was concealed within a single percent, so that others would only sense him at a little over 3,000. The table was set as he answered the question meant for another with a soft but chilling voice.

"I think that would be best."

[Bazantar]

"The little pup is wearing a mask ill fitted to the face which lies beneath" said Bazantar in a cryptic, yet reprimanding tone, still not facing Bradon despite his tentative approach.
Four demons seem to slide from the walls, their red skin and slitted eyes marking them as fellows of Bazantar's kin, emerging from the shadows like grim sentinels. Bazantar continued to address the darkling hybrid;
"my spells are not for a timid runt like you, the stirrings within you know their ilk, but this gathering has a dress code boy and you no longer fit the bill" his eyes had flicked briefly to the young man now, a kind of burning presence lurking behind them.

"You hide your mark of darkness behind a web of oblivion, feigning an innocence you have no right to claim" Bazantar continued to sit cross-legged, floating just a few inches from the ground. He had not expected for his spells to attract such an immediate presence, though he suspected it was but a prompt for those already on their way.

It seemed likely to him that whatever evil lurked at the boys core had slowly been drawing the man towards this land of it's own volition. Perhaps it could sense the presence of the sealed demon clans, and drawn by the secretive, lurking darkness had sought out this mountain range.

And then there was the second newcomer, whose entrance had certainly left Bazantar smiling... though he kept such emotions as secreted away as the Arcosian was keeping his own form.
"and you, a tactfully timed entrance, I see no false pretences with your alignment or dissoncances between your inner and outer self.... though i do not know why you bother with such guises; i can taste your presence forigner, simple clothing is not enough to fool my senses". The elder may not know what his form looked like below the cloak, but the edge to his racial presence sported was one he had encountered before through Blaze, indicating their shared lineage, and even baring the briefest of similarities to the amalgamous presence of the Bio-android, Virion. Bazantar's eyes narrowed slyly, his next words slated as a goading prod towards the creature;
"Regardless, my incantations were no more meant for you than they were for him. If I wished to suffer the presence of the weak then I could simply return to the village, and your presence leaves much to be desired". The elder was referring to the village which the last surviving members of his clan now lived among, a second group of exiled namekians who stood as a cruel mockery of the true demon clans.

How these two reacted to his individual addresses, and too each other now, would tell him much about the beings he was dealing with.

[brandon007]

Brandon immediately sensed Azrael as he made his appearance in the room, and spoke to him. He only picked up a weak signature as he looked over to Azrael with a slight glance. "Leave Inferior creature." He said, in a voice that didnt entirely belong to the boy as a bit of crimson flickered in his eyes. "What the heck did I just say? Thats not me..." Brandon thought, as he felt someone else in his head. It wasnt the Demonic Namekian that was before him, and it certainly didnt feel like the newcomer either.

When Bazantar was soon joined by 4 more of those that seemed similar to him, his energy blade slowly formed on his right hand. He had a bad feeling about being pulled here by the unknown force that the main demon was controlling. "What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Brandon asked, utterly confused by his words as he felt himself speak again without his known. "You have summoned me." He said, but Brandon shut his mouth before anything else could be said.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" He thought, as his headaches started to come back again, but he pushed it to the back of his mind for now as he heard the person call him a runt. IT made his right eye start to twitch in frustration.

[Deleted]

“… Weak...”

“… Inferior…”[/color]

The Icejin had killed over far less in his long life, yet stayed his hand when faced with the unflattering comments. There was more to the demonic Namekian’s words than just insights and insults. Azrael probed his mind but got the mental equivalent to static as his crimson eyes met the yellow ones across the room. The being had erected a mental barrier, not only proving he possessed telepathic powers but also that he was a worthy opponent, for Azrael had never known anyone with the ability to shroud their thoughts from others, besides himself.

“I suppose concealing myself is of no use then.”

He stated matter-of-factly, referring to the comment the yellow eyed demon had made a few moments before. With both hands he lowered his hood, revealing his abnormal black and red appearance. The hood gone, his vestigial horns grew to their more natural, and lethal, state. In his hand, as if from thin air, appeared a black staff which proved to only further accent his red eyes. There was an unnatural glow about the blood red jewels. He takes a few steps forward, so to stand in the light amongst the other two. Azrael paid close attention to the guards as they formed at their master’s side.

“As for my “presence,” only a fool reveals all his cards when the hand’s only just been dealt.”

The thought of lifting his hand and telekinetically squeezing the closest bodyguard’s head until it exploded came to mind but he stifled it. He was here in the search of power and, sadly, killing would not benefit his goals. Yet. Looking to the young man, the Icejin felt an evil within him, one that he himself was still having trouble controlling.

“If I were you, I would watch what I say to beings whom you cannot even hope to comprehend.”

His calm words, spoken with a dark conviction, dripped from his lips, each one with a thirst for death hidden within.

[Bazantar]

Bazantar blinked his eyes lazily, the movement slow and drawn out.

"No, I did not summon you... Darkling" He said, addressing directly the creature which lurked within Brandon's conciousness, completely ignoring the young man on it's exterior. People always wore them names like a badge, their given name, their family, the name of their people, any name which they claimed as their own. All of these names were open to be read by someone skilled with the kind of magic able to brush over an individuals being, someone like Bazantar.

It did not mean that he knew much of their meaning, or what such names entailed; no, those tasks required greater delving, but the name itself hung in the very air around them, completely open to the world of those who see, and although Brandon's were fuzzy and instistinct, hidden below the veneer of his outter being, 'darkling' was what Bazantar saw.

"My spells merely call to the darkness of these lands, a darkness you yourself have sniffed out like a blood hound in your hidden yearnings for freedom." His ancient, gristled voice trailed off
"I feel, however, absolutely no inclination to provide you with the release you seek."
He began to speak faster, his words seeming to gain momentum
"I could draw upon your evil and raise it to new highest, void walker, engulf the wretched sack which obscures your true form and tear it away along it's seams... but all that would take effort and energy..."
The elders eyes were burning into the boys black, soulless looking eyes, his ancient features wrinkled into a expression of lothing as the pace of his speech slowed right back down.
"...and why should an old man like me be expected to do all the hard work for you, Why should I have to both rip you from this false shell and also exacerbate your latent energies" He was standing now, dark-nailed finger pointed accusatorily at the young man, demonic threads slowly tightening around the individuals body, constricting even as the elders words grew more heated to the point of causing pain to the darklings outer shell.

"No, even as my own people have crossed the threshold and accepted the apotasis of their prior destiny, you too must seperate yourself from the discourse of false destinies, cast your being upon it's rightful path of your own volition, your own strength! You cannot live in this binary form void walker, one cannot grow stronger without weakening the other, one cannot achieve greatness while the other pulls in opposition. Shed the self which is contrary to your true calling, this false fragment of a being, THEN you may be worthy to seek my audience."

Bazantar's guards rose up to bar off the confused, timid man and his hungrily lurking inner presence, the threads which had now begun to cut into the boys skin at last vanishing with a painful lurch. If he wished to impose himself upon this place any longer than he would be forced to fight, to the death. Bazantar turned away;
"Perhaps wheting your convctions through a token of blood..." He mused, almost to himself. He turned back to the boy, addressing both facets of the man's being.
"Remember what it is to take, of another, their very essence from this realm and you may yet be purified of your taint, of this snivelling weakness which mars your potential for true power."

and with that dismissive final note the demon was now standing directly infront of the young man, intimidating despite his statue and build and right up in the mans face.
It seemed likely that he would be confused, scared even, for Bazantar words cut straight to the chase and much would not make sense to the boy, unfamiliar as he was with his own darkness.
Still, the inner evil which lurked within may yet take this challenge, may yet understand Bazantar's meanings.

((gonna god mod you slightly))

As a final dismissal, the demons right arm, (the one covered in gauntlet-like armour all the way to the shoulder), suddenly swung around, a hammer-like punch swinging with a shocking amount of levelling force for an old namekian like this.

The punch cracked into the boys chest, sending him to smash into the far cave wall. Bazantar was a powerful old man, despite his claims of not being a fighter, and the evil mazoku was out to prove that he was anything but friendly. His guards closed into the gap which had formed, meaning that even if the young man wished to take up a fight, should he transform or draw his weapon to strike, there would still be no chance for retaliation, and the guards would have no qualms with killing him on the spot.

---------

((I'll reply to the Azreal part separately. I thought the punch made for a neat little reminder that you're dealing with an evil asshole, so are you ok with letting me have my fun?
Anyway, so that's how it is, no unlock for you today Brandon, you're too 'divided' in your alignment. Need to pick which alignment you're going for and commit to it .

Unlock has 3 conditions, one of past, one of present and one of future.
The deal alluded to here is that if you kill another player character, that will fulfil your 'past' requirement very well. If the one you kill is a player character you've become friends with or you kill multiple player characters then you can get the unlock 'free' of the other two conditions.

Don't have to do that though, that's just one of your options I thought I'd mention.))

[brandon007]

"Darkling? Void Walker? What is this guy going on about?" Brandon thought as he listened to the Demon speak to him. So many things were confusing, and ontop of that, he seemingly had a darker, second personality. When he felt the Demon constrict him physically, he struggled a bit against him as they tightened up to cause him pain, but his darker half ignored it as it said "I am aware that I need to shed this weak shell." as the grip on Brandons body got tighter.

He was insulted further as the Demon suddenly punched his chest with rock breaking force as he was sent flying, and his body was embedded into the cavern wall. Any normal human would of died on the spot, but not Brandon. His Evil persona seemed to go into hiding as he got control of his body back. He pulled his head forward a bit, freeing it from the stone as he shook it. "Oh I am sooo going to enjoy killing you when I have the power to...' He said, as he finally pulled himself out of the rock, and looked to Azrael "Whoever you are, Hes all yours." He said, as he started to make his way in the direction of the door. He was both scared and angry now. If anyone tried to get in his way, they would be greeted by his energy sword, right in their chest.

[Deleted]

The Icejin did not move, nor did he speak, as the demonic namekian “dealt” with the confused man specifically. To say he did not get some satisfaction at watching the spectacle would be lie. When the creature had called him inferior his immediate reaction had been to concentrate the full force of his mental acumen upon the boy’s molecular structure, ripping him apart by the very building blocks that make up all things. He had not acted on this desire however, for he was keen to not put off the dark mystic with an ultimately unnecessary show of brutality.

“I could draw upon your evil and raise it to new highest…”

The words bit deep into his impossibly thick hide and he could feel his blood begin to warm. As always he gave almost nothing away, his face was solid and indiscernible and his body was still as stone. His only physical reaction was a slight tightening of his grip around the katchin staff. This however spoke leagues of his desires, for even as the demon continued with his assessment of the mentally torn man, Azrael’s well protected thoughts reached out to his ultimate goal. This power would be a huge step towards his bid for “Ascension.” Emperor Yakedo had shown that this was entirely possible when he himself ascended, taking on a form ripped from the legends of old.

"Whoever you are, he’s all yours."

Understandably angry, the youth stalked off to the entrance, fists and teeth all tightly clenched. Azrael watched him as he made his way, watching his gait and even most subtle mannerisms with studious crimson eyes. To insult an Icejin was to insult the descendants of gods themselves, a crime that the black and red being did not take lightly. He memorized everything of this man, for one day Death would come to him, as it did for all, and he wanted to make sure that his passing would not be a peaceful one. Azrael then let his eyes fall once more upon the mystic, his own eerie yellow beads staring back at the Icejin.

“If you wish to judge one’s convictions through blood… My soul is stained with the blood of more than one could hope to imagine. For centuries I have bathed in the damned waters of the River Styx, but what are words but vessels. Allow me to show you.”

His eyes glowing a vicious red, the shadows themselves began to morph and take form, combined with wisps of red ki from his own self. Soon images appeared between the two, realistic illusions, memories of deaths long ago dealt. A brutish form of the Icejin cutting his older brother to ribbons, the brute then became a monster, recognizable only due to the rare birth defect that gave the being his strange coloration. The horrid creature grabbed his father’s head and tore it in two. After, a myriad of deaths, each more brutal than the last, began to play before them. The deaths flashed one after another in quick succession, then slowing for two of the more recently slaughtered. Two of the strongest beings he had ever faced, a saiyan and a majin appeared before the demonic namekian. Then the red majin died again and again and again, each time by Azrael’s hand. Five lives proved to be all the being could muster and his saiyan companion soon followed, screaming bloody vengeance as he was obliterated.

As the compilation came to a close the red ki flicked out and the shadows darted off to the corners of the room once more.

[Bazantar]

Bazantar smirked at the boys vow of vengence over the humiliations he had been dealt. This was exactly the kind of reaction he had sought, for even the righteous easily fell pray to the callings of wrath, the callings his very tribe were named after.

Yes, that's the way, fuel your true form, weaken the false redemption of that body and allow the darkness to feed of these negative thoughts. Injured and shaken, the man had left, while his inner demon seemed to have retreated into deep thought.

The other alien stepped forward, his greedy eyes having lit up as bazantar spoke of hidden strengths. He showed him the images of his past, in an effort to convince the elder of his conviction to bloodshed. Ultimately however it was unnecessary. Bazantar could feel his evil, it was not hidden below a pearly veneer of amnesic honour or secreted away under foolish morals. No, it stood is stark, calculating prominence.

The elder finally spoke, but instead of adressing this latest development, he instead reserved to an observation from before;
"You keep a level head outsider, i could see your seething desires for blood, and as much as I enjoy a good decapitation you were wise to refrain"
The arcosian may have been guarding his thought even as Bazantar was, but when you've been reading people for as long as the demon elder you could begin to predict their though patterns. In this case, the Arcosians eyes had come to focus on the head of Viol, his eyes narrowing briefly as he likely considered tactics of intimidation.

Beheading, crushing, perhaps blasting, whatever was this man's particular forte. Regardless of the exact method the intent was still readable to the demon elder, and even without directly probing the creatures mind his prediction was surprisingly concise. His focus however seemed to jump back to the topic at hand, the topic weighing so prominently on this newcomers mind.

"Three conditions" he said ominously, resuming his cross legged pose as he floated gently near the ground once more, closing his eyes almost as if in meditation and causing the crystal ball to rise up next to him.

"One of past" A dark shape suddenly reared forward unleashing an unearthly wail, as if attacking, the imagery of Azrael's past killings swirling within it's depths as it rushed around the Arcosian like some tormenting revenant. It's mere presence began to tear at his form, brining great suffering as each new agony seemed to match the pain he had brought upon those being shown.
Around him reality itself began to warp, darkening and twisting.
"One of present" A second wraith twisted forward, joining in the chorus of tournament wails, the imagery swirling within it's depths showing the demon namekian whose head he had considered crushing earlier, thrusting his blade through Azreal's chest with a wicked sneer, up through the shoulder and out through the side somewhere under the arm.
"and One... of future" a final shadow launched forward, circling and striking. It was clear that with each of these dark spirits Azreal's very soul was being torn away, shredded at it's edges as these hungry poltergeists attempted to suck the very life from his body.

Azreal would be in great pain, but if he looked into the depths of the final soul he would see the requirement of his future, the betrayal of those he served, the death of an ally and servitude to the cause of the demon clan's uniter.

The dark spirits continued to rip and tear, threatening to destroy his very essence in their ravenous assault, until finally...

-Bazantar's eyes snapped open, a great gust sweeping out from his body and the souls vanishing in an instant, the place restored as if nothing had ever happened, begging the question of whether it was ever real to begin with... There was no way of knowing.

It seemed likely that Azreal would not understand much of what had happened, and besieged as he was by the dark spirits he may not have been able to comprehend or even see the visions which swirled within.

The demonic elder, however, looked into the other man's eyes, his voice gravelly and succinct
"So Azreal, do you accept my terms? My clan is named after the dragon of strength, and wrath... but how far will you willing to go in it's pursuit?"

((k, so your conditions are:
Past - the player characters that you've killed and other npc's from your history

Present - a encounter which is going to result in grievous injuries, you can either let it happen or 'go down fighting' but either way it's an inevitability. Being an icer you're able to survive, and struggle your way off world to a healing tank, though it will be an agonising and slow trip**. No teleporting your way around, the injuries will take too much of your energy, and part of this encounter will be that Bazantar steals your sensu beans[meaning you'll need to transfer them from your account to mine ] so no healing that way either.

Future - At a time of my choosing, you must turn traitor and kill at least 1 of your 'allies'(if not 2 ). Related to this is that should the 'uniter of the demon clans' ever show up/get made[no plans there, it's just a position I'm leaving open should someone prove worthy and want to take up the role], you must work as Bazantar's/the demon clan's ally.

**

[brandon007]

Well, Since this thread has had no reply for a week, I Guess its done, so Ill take PL Then.

[Virion]

((I'd assume Azreal still wishes to continue, they've just been fairly busy it seems. Might be able to have admin grade just your contribution, since your character has made his exit from the thread, though I'm not sure if they give out individual grades like that or if you'll have to wait till the whole thing is done))

[Deleted]

(I apologize for the long wait, I have been quite busy with school related work the past couple of weeks.)


Azrael did not respond when the demonic elder spoke truthfully of his thoughts. A light grin cracked slightly at the side of his stone jaw. A worthy opponent, he thought to himself, something he had not had in quite some time. The personification of evil began to levitate once more and started speaking of three conditions.

“One of past…”

From the harmless crystal ball leapt a monstrous shade which bellowed a harrowing noise. Although it moved as if to attack the Icejin, his body refused to so much as flinch. His mind was in control and it knew that this was what he had been searching for; the dark ritual of power. Allowing the beast to envelop him, he found within its depths his past masterpieces. Every dealt death was just as elegant as the last in the eyes of the Angel of Death.

As each one passed before him, he was force to feel the pain that he himself had inflicted in days long passed. More times than he could count, his blood red scythe, crackling with energy, sliced through his own neck. His eyes were tore from his skull, his necked snapped, spine severed, and blackness slowly swallowing him as he choked, a need for air that he had never felt before overcoming him. It was one rush after another and Azrael, oddly enough, relished every ounce of the pain. It had been so long since he had felt pain or anything for that matter; so long since he had felt the rush of death approaching him. He felt his very form being torn away, his thick hide ripped from him. In response to the overbearing agony, Azrael began to laugh.

It was the maniacal laugh of a being tortured beyond conventional comprehension. Reliving all his kills, each one as horrid and revolting, yet beautiful and graceful, as the last tore at his very core. However the Icejin had already been broken before, his psyche shattered long ago by the apparent death of his twin brother, and then slowly rebuilt himself. Now he was unbreakable thus, taking the incomparable suffering in stride, he continued to cackle as reality around him warped, darkening and twisting.

“One of present…”

A second shade shot forth, this taken the form of the demonic namekian whom he had considered murdering briefly only a few minutes before. Viol was his name, if the creature’s own thoughts could be trusted, and in his grasp was a blade, long, serrated and covered in the dried blood of those he had fell. Azrael saw the blade and was well within his own power to stop the attack. After all, truthfully, he was more than twice as powerful as all of the red skinned elder’s guards combined. But he made no attempt to stop the coming blade, instead presenting his chest.

As the jagged weapon made purchase to the left of his sternum the Icejin stepped forward, grabbing the bodyguard’s own hands, which tightly gripped the hilt of the sword, and thrust it deeper. His scarlet eyes came within an inch of the yellow ones of his assailant. There was a smile on his face as he guided the serrated edge up towards his shoulder and then out just underneath his left armpit. The anguish was excruciating, yet he carried out the action with a smile.

“And one… Of future…”

Viol disappeared, back within the darkness of which he originated, and another faceless shadow of devious creation took his place. It circled the Icejin, a whirlwind of strikes which did not attack his body. Instead the probing assault tried to eat away at his soul, using his metaphysical form as a gateway to his life force. Gnawing at the edges of his very being, the wraith began to slow, its own hunger unmet. Power only slowly dripped from Azrael as the shade learned that his soul was all but rotten and diseased.

The shadow stopped before him and within its swirling darkness Azrael saw a premonition of the future, the greatest cost for this power. The black and red Icejin stood over the body an ally. He could see no face but the WTO armor the corpse donned made its allegiance known. The vision twisted once more to a being atop a hill, cloaked and hooded its glowing eyes looked out to Namek’s moons. Beneath him gathered an ever growing number of the red skinned demons.

Then all the spirits rushed forth all at once, as if some type of encore to a bloody concert of wails and insane laughter. Azrael thought of his brother, Azmodan, who suffered death just so he could accomplish his goal, and his iron resolved steeled. Bazantar’s eyes opened, ushering forth a gust of wind from his body which silenced the shrill screams as the many wraiths disappeared, evaporating into thin air. The elder’s eyes came upon the Icejin who, despite the event moments before, was completely unharmed. Azrael stared him down, his demeanor unchanged.

"So Azreal, do you accept my terms? My clan is named after the dragon of strength, and wrath... but how far will you willing to go in it's pursuit?"

The unreal pain he had just felt lingered in his mind but it did not make him falter from his path. Unlike Bazantar, whose voice was rough, the black and red creature, was steady and calm as he spoke with an eerily detached tone.

“Yes and I will do anything to attain Ascension.”

Bazantar was no fool; he could read Azrael’s desire for power. But the Icejin did not care for he knew full well that his obsession for power was greater than even his guarded nature could contain. The vivid projections, no doubt meant to be unnerving, did not make him rethink the deal set before him. Power was all that mattered.


(I agree to everything, however I’d say one ally would be more than enough, seeing as it would give the effect of exiling Azrael from the organization he’s in at the time as well as creating a real shit storm for him no different than two would.

Also I never actually RPed Azrael having senzu beans and was intending to sell them for a space pod, so no worries there. Unless you are intent on having them, then I’m not in much of a position to argue, although I don’t see Baz needing them very much.

As I said, with the exception of those two remarks, I agree to the terms.)

[Bazantar]

((Haha, I actually intended for the 'present' event to occur right after you accept the conditions, not during that 'demonic prophecy' just then.
Means [if you want, would just need a minor tweek to your last post] we can RP out a little fight now. Bazantar's magic would ensure the event concludes as it did in the 'prophecy' just then.

As for the beans, nope fork them over buddy ;D

I'm nicking them specifically so you can't use OR sell them.
A hidden(OOC) cost for your unlock is having to work up the zeni to buy a space pod and I suppose a sensu bean too if admin deem your injuries as needing so to keep you from dying.
If your one-use space-pod wasn't already used up getting here[or if you already owned a regular space ship] I'd also have been nicking that too for the same reason.

As for keeping the beans for myself, I want to make bazantar a bean farmer, I find it amusing the concept of 'the guru of evil' having a leisurely hobby like farming sensu beans. ((which he will probably poison so that they are rendered functionally useless))

Anyway yeah, Will await your response to this, as depending on whether or not you want to have this fight now with Viol will effect what we do next.

As for the ally thing, yeah 1 in minimum. I will say on that note that I honestly have no plans for when this will happen, for right now it's more designed as an OOC 'test of devotion', which you've passed to earn the unlock. It may happen tommorow, it may happen never, depending on how the RP pans out you may even find yourself turning against a different group to the one you were expecting))