Nathaniel shot arrow after arrow into the enemy's army, none of which seeming to hit their mark. He kept running and trying to aim, fire, and hit at the same time. He stumbled and almost fell, panting from exhaustion. Why had he thought he could join this battle? He had nowhere near enough training. He watched the army come closer helplessly, holding his bow limply in his hand. His bent wings drooped on his back.
Angel/Devil rp
(Yes)
Within the Shadowlands, Faray's blue eyes snap open, and he starts to run. As the scenes fly past him, he sees an angel with bent wings, fighting a hoard. He slips through the shadows, and comes out in front of the Angel, blade already drawn. Singing, the blade whistles through the air, cutting through the first of many. Faray fights for this Angel's life, even knowing the ridicule he will gain for his black wings.
Nathaniel's eyes widened as an angel with dark wings jumped in front of him, his heart racing. He raised his bow with shaking arms and pitifully continued trying to fire it, gasping for breath and not hitting anyone. Normally, he was fairly good with a bow, but a real battle was much different than training sessions. His palms became clammy as he realized he was fighting for his life.
Eventually, Faray cuts down the last enemy, and turns his gaze to the Angel before him, blue eyes still faintly glowing with the battle-lust. His sword is lowered, but not sheathed, and dripping with blood.
Nathaniel looked up at the taller angel and bowed politely. "Thank you for helping me sir. How can I ever repay you?" He seemed to not even notice that Faray's wings were different. Even if he had, who was he to say anything? His own wings were different as well.
For a moment, surprise flashes in the Fallen's gaze. "I helped because I have no reason to want more bloodshed, and do not call me sir. You can repay me by keeping the meeting to yourself." As he turns, he calls to Nathaniel, "My name is Faray." Then he walks into a shadow, seemingly dissipating.
The young angel watched his savior leave, confused. He hoped he hadn't offended Faray by calling him sir, that was just what he'd been taught was polite. And why wouldn't he want their meeting to be shared? He stood in silence for a moment before looking around for anyone he recognized
(OOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooo! I'm fine with you joining. Great character BTW!)
(Okay, great! Thanks, I felt bad for just joining ^^;)
"Patience? Are you there?" He called out, heart pounding. The heavy silence was unnerving. He spun around frantically, feeling exposed and vulnerable in the large, empty field. "Hello? Anyone?" He felt like he could be attacked at any moment, from any side. He gulped nervously, unsure what to do or where to go
(#Silence?!?!?!?!?!?)
(I know where did everyone go?)
(No clue.)
(Hi!)
(Hello ^^)
(I'm here too.)
Joan flew through the trees to find a field of blood shed. A single boy was standing there, did he cause this? She wondered. He looked to be an Angel, and Joan quickly landed behind him. "Did you do this?"
Nathaniel spun around, startled by the sudden appearance of another. "No! No, of course not! I was running, and some guy came and helped me… He asked me not to say his name, miss." He hastily bowed in an awkward greeting, looking nervous and scared. Was this a friend or foe?
"Oh, well, what did he look like?"
"Um, kind of like an angel, but with dark wings, ma'am." Nathaniel relaxed a little bit, at least it didn't seem like he was about to be attacked. He put his bow on his back and stood at attention
"I think I've seen him before, hmm." Actually Joan new where she saw him. He was the man that the other man was protecting a girl from last week. However, she was pretty sure that wasn't relevant. "Are you wounded?"
"I don't think so, ma'am…" He looked down at himself, bruised, battered, and with a few cuts, but not gravely wounded. He smoothed out his tunic, some dust clouding off of it. He turned his eyes back to the older girl
"Good, are your wings fly-able?" Joan needed someone to fly back with her– she wasn't allowed to walk into town alone anymore after nearly blowing one up. She carefully sat on a tree stump, at peace with the bloodshed around her.
Nathaniel's face flushed in embarrassment. "No ma'am… I-I was injured when I was younger, and now… well…" He looked back at his bent wings
"I can fix that, even if it was permanently set. But it may be painful." She did know a way, it was a simple blood magic, easy fix, even if living people injuries aren't the same as the dead's.
Nathaniel looked up. "Are you sure? It's not dark magic, is it? My parents told me that dark magic can kill angels…"
"Well… It won't kill you, but you won't be able to fly into the Stratosphere…. But, no, it's not. Not really." And it wasn't, it was a bit of a potion with her blood mixed in.
Joan circled his wings, "Easy fix." She said with a smirk.
He watched her circling him nervously, feeling like a wounded animal being circled by a hungry scavenger. He didn't like the look on her face, but he stayed silent, heart racing
"come on. It isn't a far walk to where I'm camping out." Joan stopped her analyzing, and hung her head. "Unless I'm pressuring you, and you don't want to go…" Saddingly Joan was ready to accept either.