Stupid Man Suit Wearer
Kaz continued to cast his gaze upward, even after the rain of feathers ended. What the hell just happened? he wondered. Having taken human form at the time, he could feel the humans on the busy city street brushing past him, but he paid them no mind.
“Hey, watch it, asshole!” A particularly rude gentleman slammed into Kaz’s shoulder, snapping the angel back into reality. “Take your craziness somewhere else, you stupid bastard.” The man flipped up his middle finger and turned to continue on his way.
In a completely serene tone Kaz replied, “Have a blessed day.” He smiled softly. Right on time… He watched the man walk down the street toward a crosswalk for a few more steps before being cut off by a young messenger on a bicycle. The man stopped to shout at the biker, something about how bicycles should be outlawed on sidewalks and that they were called sidewalks for a reason, when a taxi cab suddenly drove past him at a higher speed than was really safe for the road, narrowly missing him.
Kaz casually walked up to the man as he caught his breath from his narrow brush with death and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re welcome, friend.”
The angel then turned to walk away and shoved his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jacket, leaving the man to contemplate the magnitude of what exactly had just happened. Kaz knew from experience that as a human, and a jerk, that he simply wouldn’t get it.
The humans take so much for granted.
Give the world the best you have and you will get kicked in the teeth. Give the world the best you have anyway.
Damp. Gloomy. Unsettling. These words could describe the atmosphere of an old clay stone church converted into what can now be describe as a hall of dark cloth covering windows and instance burning more heavily then you usual find in a ceremony. This place was the “Temple of the Chainless,” a place of worship of not a god or gods but of a idea; a rebellious plot against the ethereal forces that conflict over the world. This was the place of the Phantom Ring, a cult that processes a high aim... let it has low numbers, having reached its highest total membership recently... with its one hundred and ninety second member. This figure was standing towards two figures; a bleached child in dark drabs that stood sinisterly... and behind this child was the figure that the child served as “the Voice” for.
The figure that the back was in dark robes of a monk. Under these robes was what many would described as a clumsy clay statue, the materials from different periods serving like stitches to the warn out clay. There was no feature on this statue save for a slight dim in the face... let life was in it that made the hands now move in utter wondering. This clay coil host the soul of a former angelic judge, whose attempted coup against the cosmic order that set thee to be banished into a clay statue... which had founded this cult after years of meditating on thoughts of desire to seek humanity to be free from cosmic hands.
This figure... went by a single name...
Canus
Canus observed the recent recruit... a young figure... seemingly a beggar from far away that came here in despair... now waiting the word of acceptance. So then Canus let out a tune... not from a mouth which was not on the clay but from within thy spiritual will... that filled the room equally and fully. The tune was metallic, clinging, clashing, slashing and tingling. Then came from the mouth of the child... the Voice... were in a low chilling voice the words:
“We welcome you into our order. May you be of us as we strive to free the souls of humanity from the cosmic cycle. May you follow our way... and be set to the true will of salvation."
The figure nodded... and turn to walk to the main mass of the cult, all nodding in what would have been counted to a tune... let silence was in the room, save to the movement of fleet.
Canus observed. Canus observed not with eyes but with a dream like sense of the world... and sense the souls of thy cultists. Let this... was let aside to the hegemonic influence of the child... that child whose entry to the cult as “the Voice” Canus regretted. This child who had shown to be not a mortal is striving for by manipulating the Phantom Ring from within? Canus wondered this of a figure that had somehow stopped Canus from communicating probably with the cultists via thy dream manipulation ability. What could be done?
The members of the Phantom Ring started to depart from the Temple... and so do Canus depart to the back end of the former church, followed by no one, not even the child or personal servants that took maintenance of Canus’s clay foil. Here Canus would go and how to strike against the cosmic forces that dare try to control the lives... and spirits... of the human race.
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day.
Alive. Claire Finch was alive.
How, she could not explain. Neither could she explain how she had slipped away from her coffin and hide without being noticed, and how the men nailed down her coffin lid without realising that she was gone. Just glad that I woke up then and not five minutes later, she thought to herself as she watched the undertakers pick up her coffin and carry it outside ready for her funeral. Well, if she was still dead, that is.
It was this "funeral" that Claire was watching right now, perched high up in a tree in the cemetery. There weren't that many people present, just a few friends and relatives. She knew it would be a small turn out, as she wasn't exactly the most "popular" of people. She was a social recluse, and studied hard for exams at a college as a mature student. After the failure of these exams, Claire had touched a live wire, a task that left the town without electricity for a few days. Serves you all right, thought Claire bitterly. She peeped through the the gap in her hiding spot. The vicar was spouting some waffle about "she's moved on" and "we'll miss her deeply".
Bullshit. No one will ever miss me. And I'm not exactly dead...
edited 10th Jan '12 11:07:58 AM by ToolsOfDestruction
Transcender of Gender
He was alive.
He'd been brain damaged, comatose for weeks, taken off life support. He should be dead, or at least barely cognitive. That's what all the doctors were muttering in disbelief. Harry didn't care that he'd impossibly healed, he just wanted out of here and away from all this noise. He would've run, but although his brain had miraculously healed his leg hadn't, and he had to be content with limping everywhere for the rest of his life.
Whatever. He'd stopped caring about his well-being the moment the vehicle had smashed into him.
It had taken forever to convince the doctors to let him leave - they had said that he couldn't, but somehow he could tell that they were lying, and just didn't want their miracle boy to walk right out the door. Finally they'd reluctantly let him go, but not without about a dozen warnings about how he shouldn't do this, be careful of that, take these twice a day. Blah, blah, blah.
As he adjusted to using his new walking stick he called Sam and Ashley, reassured them that yes he was alive and wasn't just a ghost, and then suggested that they should go through with Plans 3a and 6 to celebrate his not-death. Get our own place and Enjoy the hell out of life. If the dude in the sky didn't want him to die then he wasn't going to spend the rest of his life following orders. They'd been more than happy to oblige; Ashley had already picked a place out for them, and both of them already had their share of the rent ready. And Harry had thought he was desperate to get away from his folks.
It was no problem though. His parents would be heading here after work to see him, giving him plenty of time to get home, get his stuff, and... relieve his parents of some of their wealth. It was probably illegal and certainly not nice. Like he cared, they'd probably miss it more than they'd miss him. Checking that he still had his wallet and phone he decided to call a cab to get him there.
edited 10th Jan '12 12:44:33 PM by whizzerd
they/them || "Forgive me, regent of queer amphibians" - Lt.BGob
Meanwhile, a dirty little girl sat, hunched over the pavement near a litter-filled gutter, clutching a little ivory flute. It outght to have been a sympathetic sight- well, if she wasn't smiling creepily at everyone at the same time.
Which she was.
"Hey-heey, hey, oh I feel..." she murmured the discordant tune that she had heard on the streets somewhere (she had only heard a few notes, so she repeated them), unfocused eyes glazing over the figureless rush of an invisible crowd.
She did not want remember who she was, or where she came from. She did not want to know why she had been blinded (blinded, because she remembered sight, and she missed it- no, go back to singing, ah-doo dah, heey, hey...), nor what the strange stubby remains of wings hidden under her dirty, baggy white shirt were. She only remembered her name, only really wanted to remember her name, and fingered the flowing writing inscribed into the instrument, tapped grimy fingertips on the three holes that would sound that name in a musical language that barely lingered in her subconscious.
Uriel. Uriel. Uriel. Tap-tap-tap-
(feathers?)
She froze as the soft tip touch of feathers landed onto her bare neck and looked up, blinked on instinct as they landed on her face. Soft. Fingers picked one off her skin and it murmured with quiet rustles that differed in a way she still recognised. Divine.
The feather dropped from her hands and the hands tightened around the flute and she felt the forbidden sting of anguish, regret, yearning...squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself back into her own made-up world of clouds and halos and sight. A child's lips curved into a dreamy smile, head hunched over once more.
"...feel fantastic, doo dah, hey he-ey..."
When I walk on the street counting my steps, magic keeps silent and reality stalks me.
After the funeral was over and the coffin was 6' under, Claire jumped out of her tree and walked to her would-be grave. She stared at the headstone "Here lies Clarissa Briana Finch. Always missed"
Clarissa. Claire hated her real name. She got a rock and scratched out the "issa" part on the grave, replacing it with an "e". Satisfied, she stood up, wiped her dirty, blood covered hands on her white dress and left the graveyard.
Just as she was near the gates, she felt a powerful surge of electricity race though her body, and she let out a blood curdling scream of agony.
Ded
A second light appears.
And then suddenly, a figure of a mysterious man appears in your mind. For others, one might wonder who the hell is that guy
For the angels only: Oh great, "God's" right hand again
Before you know it, you're in a mysterious building. God knows where you are right now;
Then you look around you and wonder, "who the hell are these people"
edited 12th Jan '12 3:13:21 AM by eternalNoob
If you wanna PM me, send it to my mrsunshinesprinkles account; this one is blorked.Canus slowly got up. A few moments ago Canus was dwelling in a deep thought about how such the Phantom Ring be set to increase its number before the cosmic interference gets beyond bearable. Then... the change of scenery from a humble stone room at the back of the Temple of the Chainless to... this place of the cosmic. The voice... the right hand... GAH! Intervention! They have bought thy back to punish thy or... wait... things not... “normal” for a divine calling.
Canus got up and thought... the second in command. A divine calling of the most intervening... such power in a selective few. Canus’s desire to damage the Cosmic Cycle grew more so... then Canus noticed that thy was not alone. Figures... mortal and... non-mortal. They were called too. Was this a collective divine calling to set for a mass trail of execution? Or... the humans figure... what?! Canus sense they had... wait! They process divine powers? What... is occurring? What is happening? What is the means of all this relate to? Canus was baffled... but a thought came; they want you be disorganised. This is a dawn of a new era. A possibility of them giving mortals power... power that will be turn against the cosmic order by Canus’s teachings? The possibility lingered in Canus’s head as the former judge had to clear thy thoughts, keeping the right hand in front of the clay, featureless face. Let them move first... then make a tactical gain.
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day.
Am I a weirdo?
Lucy's eyes opened slowly and she muttered something along the lines of "Can't I sleep a little longer?" Then she noticed the other people in the room and was immediately fully awake. She let out a small "Eep" as she tried to figure out where she was and why she was here, although she was quite thankful that she wore pajamas that actually covered her up.
Bigotry will NEVER be welcome on TV Tropes.
Transcender of Gender
Okay. Harry was certain he'd just been calling a cab outside the hospital. Then he had saw (Had he? It was just as possible it had only been in his mind) a man he didn't recognise and now he wasn't outside the hospital. He checked his phone. No signal. Then he noticed that he wasn't alone in this place, there were others here too.
He hadn't even touched any of his pain pills yet, and hallucinations weren't a typical side effect of recovering from brain damage. Therefore he concluded that it was highly likely he'd just been teleported away to this strange place along with these strange people, and that this wasn't just his imagination.
Okay. He'd just been raised from the dead, he didn't have much reason to doubt the supernatural anymore. "Rather rude just to whisk someone away like that." He had muttered it under his breath, but the room was quiet and his voice echoed off the walls.
they/them || "Forgive me, regent of queer amphibians" - Lt.BGob
Claire woke up. She was sprawled across the floor, staring at the sky. She could smell smoke coming off her skin. Picking herself up, she looked around. It was wet, and quite late in the afternoon. Cursing the weather, she sprinted towards shelter.
Stupid Man Suit Wearer
Kaz was sitting comfortably in a local coffee shop, sipping a double mocha latte with extra crème and espresso when he suddenly found himself, for lack of a better word, “Zapped” into a fairly nondescript building with several others, some human and some angelic (or fallen…) after catching a glimpse of…
God’s Right Hand…oh Heck…
He knew that although it wasn’t nearly as powerful as the Almighty, the Right Hand was still a cosmic being to be respected*. He nonchalantly tried to sip his drink while taking an inventory of the others with him. He spied a hooded being who possessed angelic powers, much like himself but…twisted… Most likely a Fallen. He frowned and cast his glance toward the others.
Give the world the best you have and you will get kicked in the teeth. Give the world the best you have anyway.
And then she felt her rump land hard onto a different floor, a new one- smooth, cold.
(what)
Uriel stood up, absolutely petrified as she felt the unmistakable (music) of the Right Hand radiating from the middle of the room. She stumbled back against the wall and stayed there, clutching the flute in her hands.
She could barely feel the presence of other angels and humans in the building, but barely. Fear slowly withdrew and resent slowly wormed its way into her.
What does he want?
When I walk on the street counting my steps, magic keeps silent and reality stalks me.
Ded
The light brought you here...
Is what all of you heard
It was Buddha... Or Shiva? And then...
It constantly changed forms. It took a while, but notice how they share one theme:
Divine beings
If you wanna PM me, send it to my mrsunshinesprinkles account; this one is blorked.Messiahs... images of reassurance they are granting to us all. Is it them though? Such... images. Is this a plot of some sort? What be that which they desire us to think of? What is the way that they want the mortals to follow? Such notions... attempt to force thy down a single path? What though be this... brewing scheme?
This was a whisper that Canus uttered to thyself... uttered in a clanging of metals and slashing of bells... that were somehow gently faint... a language only the angelic could understand. Canus observed the angelic figures of the group thy is set within; a fallen had appeared and... an agent of the Heaven who had been eying Canus. ‘Who be thy aim’ thought Canus on that angel.
edited 13th Jan '12 1:23:49 AM by Ailedhoo
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day.
Ded
" I guess you wonder what you are doing here..."
" Too be honest i am, too..."
" So, let's start with introductions"
" Who are you people"
If you wanna PM me, send it to my mrsunshinesprinkles account; this one is blorked.
Stupid Man Suit Wearer
Kaz's attention was drawn to a woman who had completely, how do the humans put it, "lost her shit" upon seeing the Right Hand. Although he could hardly blame her, he wondered why she would've reacted the way she did until he recognized her as the angel Uriel. He felt like a stone had been dropped into his stomach as he tried to recall exactly how long it had been since he had seen her last. Was it ten, fifteen years? When one is practically immortal, the years just kind of run together...
His thoughts were interrupted by the Right Hand's display. He recognized every form that it took, but he wasn't entirely sure why he...they...were being shown this. Kaz was vaguely aware, also, that the hooded figure seemed to be staring at him. What's your deal?
Then the Right Hand spoke: "Who are you people"
The angel figured he'd go first. He raised his cup slightly and said, "Name's Kaz." That's good for now, he thought. No point in showing my entire hand now. He took a sip of his drink and awaited the others' responses.
edited 13th Jan '12 6:56:26 AM by KarlKadaver
Give the world the best you have and you will get kicked in the teeth. Give the world the best you have anyway.
Ded
Oh, don't mistake me for him.
Ok, i guess i have to show you what i really am.
Then, we'll skip to the introductions...
If you wanna PM me, send it to my mrsunshinesprinkles account; this one is blorked.Canus observed the “Right Hand,” folding the arms around what would have been thy stomach if thy was organic. Canus was ready to listen; it is good for plotting the disruption of the cosmic cycle.
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day.
Ded
"All of you... so very quiet."
"Fine. So that all of you won't be left speechless, i will hold back this "transformation""
" And besides, it's too flashy, in my opinion"
"The rest of you. Names, now."
edited 14th Jan '12 6:57:38 AM by eternalNoob
If you wanna PM me, send it to my mrsunshinesprinkles account; this one is blorked.
Am I a weirdo?
Lucy glanced around and noticed that no one else seemed to be responding.
"N-names? I... I'm Lucy. W-why am I here anyway? I just woke up."
She gave the others in the room a nasty glare that showed her obvious discomfort at having to go first.
Bigotry will NEVER be welcome on TV Tropes.
Transcender of Gender
Well, just because he was acceptant of the paranormal didn't mean that Harry didn't find it weird as hell. There's a divine shape-shifter, and a person over there demanding names, that guy's dressed strangely and that girl is acting weird, and half of these people seem to already know each other... He felt out of the loop and out of his element; stuff like this was Ashley's field of expertise, not his.
Disobeying demands, however, was something he could happily get behind. "Any particular reason why I should give my name to a group of strangers when I have no idea why I'm here, or what's even going on?"
they/them || "Forgive me, regent of queer amphibians" - Lt.BGob
Ded
"...I'll deal with you later"
Anyone else?
If you wanna PM me, send it to my mrsunshinesprinkles account; this one is blorked.Canus remained silent. A small but grand part of thy way of defying the cosmic cycle. Plus stating thy name would not be understood by the mortals without trying to link thy minds in a mass vision... which could backfire if one of the figures panicked and manage to slay a successful strike at Canus’s mind.
The former judge then decided a way of comment: Canus lowered thy hood down to reveal thy featureless clay head. If the Second-In-Command to the Cosmic Executive would give honest explanation to Canus’s punishment to all... including the reasons for the coup... then Canus would maintain thy silence.
I’m a lumberjack and I’m ok. I sleep all night and work all day.
“What a mess”
“I’ve pulled all the stops. I’ve prevented any interference up to this point”
“I have no choice. It will begin. “
“It's about to start. “
”No, I have to make it happen”
'“Oh god. This won’t be pretty.”''
They fell. Feathers fell from the sky. Simultaneously glowing, and filled with vibrancy. You could feel life in these strange things. It was enchanting, and in its own haunting way, beautiful. It felt like a dream sequence. It was mystical… magical… So many words could describe it.
Not a lot of people knew it, but there was a reason this happened. This was the day where few people would receive a second chance. One last opportunity to redeem themselves. Of course, there’s a deeper meaning, but we’ll get into that later. After all, where's the fun in that?
After that dream-like sequence, the world reverted back to its ordinary state. That euphoric feeling vanished, and it suddenly felt strangely uninteresting.
What the hell was going on? What the hell was that? What the FUCK just happened? For some reason, you're the only one who's thinking like that. Yet that’s not the only thing that was off…
“Pretentious show offs…”
After that, he turned to dust. Gone with the wind. Dead. And the fun part: This is just the beginning
Go ahead. Make your move...
edited 10th Jan '12 3:17:48 AM by eternalNoob
If you wanna PM me, send it to my mrsunshinesprinkles account; this one is blorked.