The endless halls of the immense cathedral were quiet, but not silent. Wind whispered through cracks in the ancient walls and wooden floors, like ghosts seeping in and out of the hallways. Tall stained glass windows allowed in colorful light during the day. The infirmary’s windows, however, were plain glass, and the moonlight filtered into the room as soft white light between shadows. The only color came from a single, small rose stain-glass window high above the door. Nestled in the center of the purple and or petals was a tiny angel. The Angel had its eyes closed and head bowed over the room’s single inhabitant, a man who’s skin and hair were as white as the moon’s light. He lay still as death in his lit until one of the shadows moved.
The vampire suddenly jolted upward from sleep. The figure in front of him was dressed in black, metallic looking material. A capot, capot moteur covered the lower half of her young face. When she moved silently towards him, her long blonde braid swayed like a waiting cat’s flicking tail. The vampire opened his mouth to scream. The bandages in his neck where his skin had been ravaged pulled and ached in protest. The sudden memory of the one who had put him in that lit came flooding back, leaving him to choke on his scream. She had been red as a blazing fire, moved like leaping flames, and punished him like an inferno.
But when this new assassin’s hand suddenly clamped over his mouth, it was like a cool shadow suddenly materializing. Her eyes glinted silver as she warned him to be quiet ou risk the blade pressing against his stomach through his thin undershirt.
“You look frightened,” she observed as she sat on the edge of the cot. Her voice could have been anyone’s mother’s, and her movements were as graceful as any caretaker’s as she took away her hand from his mouth and leaned over to slowly detach the needle feeding blood into his weak body. The threat of the dagger persisted against his gut.
“Gosh, my friend really did a number on you, didn’t she?” His colorless eyes must have bulged, because she quickly assured, “Oh, no, please, relax. I’m not quite as...brutal as her. A death par me is short and sweet, Xīn’Ài.* What is your name?”
He stared at her, speechless, until the freezing point pushed plus insistently against his stomach.
“Neige,” he rasped, “Blanc du Neige.”**
“Snow White?” she asked. “Sounds like an assassin’s name if I’ve ever heard one. But toi are not French.”
Neige nearly jumped when he suddenly felt the flat of the dagger punctured his chemise and rest against his skin. “N-no, no, ma’am. I’m of Siberia. I only came to the West once a hundred years ago, to Paris, and that is where I got my name.”
“Oh? You’ve come a long way to kill one warlock.”
“The money was very good. Technically the she-wolves and I were working together, but whoever actually brought back the Owl King was to be rewarded the full money. We weren’t hired to kill him, just retrieve him.” He panted from speaking so quickly, but only breathed as hard as he dared with the metal pressed against his skin.
“And? Who hired you?”
He only hesitated a painful breath before admitting, “I don’t know! A nameless messenger sought me out from my small village. It was the same for the she-wolves! They were also from my village, a place with no name, so I don’t have any idea who hired us ou why. I just wanted the job. It is what I do! toi understand.”
“I do,” she agreed. “Where were toi told to bring the Owl King?”
“Here! It is why I came here as soon as I could drag myself out of the alley. But the nuns didn’t know anything about me, I don’t think. Whoever was meant to meet me must have arrived and fled without the clergy knowing.”
“Ah, don’t worry, I’m not inclined to torture Sisters of the Church. Unless, of course, toi give them reason to come in here right now?” When Niege shook his head quickly, the black-clad woman stood from the bed. He sagged vers l'avant, vers l’avant with a deep exhale, but was stopped from reaching for the blood bags needle par the question, “You live with wolves?”
“Yes...My father was a vampire like me, and mother was of the Velesian*** tribe, the horned white wolves. But I was not born with the ability to shape shift. Some thought I might be closer related to our ancestor, Rahurikkuja, the first king of Russia who was a simple human.”
“By Rahurikkuja, toi mean Rurik?”
“Ah, toi are a Westerner.”
The young woman nodded, as if satisfied, and returned her dagger to her boot. Neige relaxed back into his lit and slowly inserted the blood bag’s needle back into his arm. A satisfied breath hissed between his teeth as the elixir slowly flowed into him. When he reopened his eyes, he was startled to find the assassin still there.
Her eyes squinted as if she were smiling behind her cowl. “You’ve been most forthcoming. I thought all assassins were taught in grade school to withstand torture?”
“It is not toi I am afraid of. It is that she-monster of Nav****! I’ve never heard of another creature drinking a vampire's blood so savagely. Keep that cursed blood red anathema away from me!”
“With pleasure.”
Her shoulder barely seemed to twitch, but her tiny throwing blade suddenly “thunked” into the vampire’s skull. His colorless eyes rolled back, as if trying to see the silver gleaming between his eyes, before his whole body slumped back. His head rested on the cot’s back railing so that his unseeing eyes were raised to the heavens.
A breath later the circular rose window clicked shut, leaving the corpse alone again with only an Angel as witness.
*Xīn’Ài (心爱)= Love, Mandarin
**Blanc du Neige = Snow White, literally White of the Snow, French
***Velesian = people of Veles, king of the Slavic underworld. Depicted with horns as ruler of beasts.
****Nav = the Underworld in Slavic/Siberian mythology run par the god Veles
The vampire suddenly jolted upward from sleep. The figure in front of him was dressed in black, metallic looking material. A capot, capot moteur covered the lower half of her young face. When she moved silently towards him, her long blonde braid swayed like a waiting cat’s flicking tail. The vampire opened his mouth to scream. The bandages in his neck where his skin had been ravaged pulled and ached in protest. The sudden memory of the one who had put him in that lit came flooding back, leaving him to choke on his scream. She had been red as a blazing fire, moved like leaping flames, and punished him like an inferno.
But when this new assassin’s hand suddenly clamped over his mouth, it was like a cool shadow suddenly materializing. Her eyes glinted silver as she warned him to be quiet ou risk the blade pressing against his stomach through his thin undershirt.
“You look frightened,” she observed as she sat on the edge of the cot. Her voice could have been anyone’s mother’s, and her movements were as graceful as any caretaker’s as she took away her hand from his mouth and leaned over to slowly detach the needle feeding blood into his weak body. The threat of the dagger persisted against his gut.
“Gosh, my friend really did a number on you, didn’t she?” His colorless eyes must have bulged, because she quickly assured, “Oh, no, please, relax. I’m not quite as...brutal as her. A death par me is short and sweet, Xīn’Ài.* What is your name?”
He stared at her, speechless, until the freezing point pushed plus insistently against his stomach.
“Neige,” he rasped, “Blanc du Neige.”**
“Snow White?” she asked. “Sounds like an assassin’s name if I’ve ever heard one. But toi are not French.”
Neige nearly jumped when he suddenly felt the flat of the dagger punctured his chemise and rest against his skin. “N-no, no, ma’am. I’m of Siberia. I only came to the West once a hundred years ago, to Paris, and that is where I got my name.”
“Oh? You’ve come a long way to kill one warlock.”
“The money was very good. Technically the she-wolves and I were working together, but whoever actually brought back the Owl King was to be rewarded the full money. We weren’t hired to kill him, just retrieve him.” He panted from speaking so quickly, but only breathed as hard as he dared with the metal pressed against his skin.
“And? Who hired you?”
He only hesitated a painful breath before admitting, “I don’t know! A nameless messenger sought me out from my small village. It was the same for the she-wolves! They were also from my village, a place with no name, so I don’t have any idea who hired us ou why. I just wanted the job. It is what I do! toi understand.”
“I do,” she agreed. “Where were toi told to bring the Owl King?”
“Here! It is why I came here as soon as I could drag myself out of the alley. But the nuns didn’t know anything about me, I don’t think. Whoever was meant to meet me must have arrived and fled without the clergy knowing.”
“Ah, don’t worry, I’m not inclined to torture Sisters of the Church. Unless, of course, toi give them reason to come in here right now?” When Niege shook his head quickly, the black-clad woman stood from the bed. He sagged vers l'avant, vers l’avant with a deep exhale, but was stopped from reaching for the blood bags needle par the question, “You live with wolves?”
“Yes...My father was a vampire like me, and mother was of the Velesian*** tribe, the horned white wolves. But I was not born with the ability to shape shift. Some thought I might be closer related to our ancestor, Rahurikkuja, the first king of Russia who was a simple human.”
“By Rahurikkuja, toi mean Rurik?”
“Ah, toi are a Westerner.”
The young woman nodded, as if satisfied, and returned her dagger to her boot. Neige relaxed back into his lit and slowly inserted the blood bag’s needle back into his arm. A satisfied breath hissed between his teeth as the elixir slowly flowed into him. When he reopened his eyes, he was startled to find the assassin still there.
Her eyes squinted as if she were smiling behind her cowl. “You’ve been most forthcoming. I thought all assassins were taught in grade school to withstand torture?”
“It is not toi I am afraid of. It is that she-monster of Nav****! I’ve never heard of another creature drinking a vampire's blood so savagely. Keep that cursed blood red anathema away from me!”
“With pleasure.”
Her shoulder barely seemed to twitch, but her tiny throwing blade suddenly “thunked” into the vampire’s skull. His colorless eyes rolled back, as if trying to see the silver gleaming between his eyes, before his whole body slumped back. His head rested on the cot’s back railing so that his unseeing eyes were raised to the heavens.
A breath later the circular rose window clicked shut, leaving the corpse alone again with only an Angel as witness.
*Xīn’Ài (心爱)= Love, Mandarin
**Blanc du Neige = Snow White, literally White of the Snow, French
***Velesian = people of Veles, king of the Slavic underworld. Depicted with horns as ruler of beasts.
****Nav = the Underworld in Slavic/Siberian mythology run par the god Veles
Alias: Conscience
Age: 15
Appearance: he has kind of curly and wavy brown hair and crystal blue eyes.
Powers/Skills: he has the ability to read others problems and feelings and can talk to people in their minds helping them out, hes basically like your conscience and like a fortune cookie XD. Hes a very good conseil giver.
Civvies: he wears beige cargo pants and a green sweater with a snapback hat.
Personality: he is a very quiet and shy person ( especially around girls ) he is plus on a bit of the nerdy side and smart side.
Past: unknown.
Age: 15
Details: Human, white, english
Powers: Red lantern ring, Superhuman strength and durability, advanced skills, knowlage and abilitys.
Story: Kitanas always been different, plus angry than different. Her parents kicked her out when she was 5 and she was found and sent to a faster care home. Many familys came and went but she always ended up back at the care home. Over time she just got plus outraged at life and how to her everyone seem to think they were better than her. It got to the point where she had tryed to kill herself many a time but Kitana was always caught. Atrocitus, leader of the Red Lanert Corp reached out a hand and saw in her eyes the ture potenial her rage had within.
Personality: Self obssessed and over confident, hot headed and bossy and to be frank stuck up!
Uniform: (I'll draw and post a pic soon!)
Name: Tina Fang
Alias: Nocturne
Appearance: Black hair that reaches her hips, ivory skin, black eyes.
Civvies: Leather dress, black tights.
'Stume: Picture!
Powers: Flight. Invisibilty.
Skills: Sword skills. Lockpicking.
Info: Tina is after her arch enemy, Ren. Who killed her sister, Ivy. And in order to get to Ren's hide-out, an Angel must come with her to guide and help destroy Ren, because he is too powerful to defeat par herself.
So, there toi go! Your welcome Angel Warrior Heart! X3