Galations And Exodus

[Ravage Nocturne]

Standing within the rain, a figure. A brown jacket wrapped loose around the slim torso of a young man, a fur collar snug around the collar and short sleeve, while a tear reveals the bare flesh of his left arm. A non-descript star, perhaps a variation of a pentagram, remains magnetic to the sight. Spiraling in the center, it acts as a means of illusion, and nothing more. His right arm, there's nothing but a long, intricately designed sleeve with oriental pattern and crimson cloth. Within this sleeve, the absence of an arm. Lost long ago, for purposes never spoken. A high-risen collar of the ebony sleeveless shirt boasts that familiar pentagram on the sternum, before falling to his waist, where a brown leather belt and a pair of loose pants meet his slender form. Upon his shins, taijutsu bandages secured to the legs with black leather straps. His feet, open toe and heel shinobi shoes, commonly known for having grips upon the soles, and being a practical means of application to the environment.

Reaching slowly into his jacket pocket, the young man fumbles around before retrieving a cigarette, crossing it across each knuckle in a skillful fashion, before grasping it between his small and ring fingers. Snapping his index finger across the skin of his thumb -with manipulation of a force invisible, paranormal, and often times referred to as Chakra- a flame dances into life, igniting the end of the cigarette. Planting the cigarette between his lips, clenching firmly, he returns his single hand into the jacket pocket, closing his emerald eyes. Tawny, russet hair cascades about his alabaster visage, before whipping to the other side in the passing breeze. His hair, short but flat against his scalp due to the packing dampness from the rain, is darker than usual, comparable to the night itself. Bags beneath his eyes, it is a matter of personal opinion to call the slender young man either dashingly handsome and elegant, or in contrast a hideous display of what a man becomes when he loses everything. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other in the damp soil, he grimaces as he takes a long drag from the cigarette, flooding his lungs with the relaxing nicotine, soothing his frazzled nerves.

Opening his eyes, a smile cuts across his face, and with nonchalant mannerism, allows the cigarette to casually fall from his lips, and into the earth, where it fizzles out of existence.

"Uchiha...Nevan.”

Edited September 6, 2006 by Ravage Nocturne

[Exodus]

A horrid inky black seeped from the pores, as one man embraced another. Blood, saliva, and sweat slowly dripped onto the ground. Amidst the haze of everyday, every minute life, people lost themselves and others. Betrayal, madness, hate and avarice, the corporate world brought right to your skin. Auxiliary pulsations ensnarled the male as a wave of darkness stabbed through his body. Choked and slurred tones poured forth as the man yelled, until the creature, the embodiment meshed with his vocal chords. The throaty plea was then rendered synthetic, two tones incompletely meshing into one.

His eyes remained cool in the course of action, hinting insensitivity and an undeviating lack of sympathy as he devoured the defensive layering of the neck of his enemy with a toothy, biting into the blood-spattered mess, shredding movement and vocal capabilities while he was at it. The gushing red that smeared his light skin, accentuated the malevolent blood wheels that spun violently. He twitched discreetly; something caught his senses before he realized where he was again, out in the middle of the barren village with forces that could swarm his position in any moment and attempt to seize his existence.

They wouldn't dare.

His midnight black shirt was left wide open, as high-collared as the man next to him, their clothing sharing resemblances either within or beyond their control. Nonetheless, he was a phantom and his victim lacked what he desired; even though what he desired was unclear to even his partner at hand. His bare chest rose in a heave while Nevan tasted the fresh, bitter air through his succulent, sighing as if the fact he just openly slaughtered a casualty did not faze him whatsoever.

"It's not him...”

A target perhaps, their intentions were never apparent but always vindicated within their point of view. The rain cleansed the assassination artist from the taint that cursed his very name; oh how he enjoyed the rain. By now, the hunger of the blood wheels had dawdled as he now stared into the space of the night, calculating each and every drop of rain that was opportune enough to grace his presence

[Ravage Nocturne]

Cruel lips curl into a smile; it isn't the ordinary kind of smile that you get when something of inspiration comes along to stimulate emotion, but rather it is the kind of smile that reminds you that someone is much more aware of something than you. It's one of those smiles that really can get to someone. Dampening his lips as he smooths his tongue across them for a moment, the young man's emerald eyes stare deep and direct into the eyes of the Uchiha, an unwavering sense of calm and accomplishment defeating the intimidation that would well up in the gut of any other man. Clucking his tongue, he presses a firm palm against the shoulder of the Uchiha, before thrusting forwards, pushing him back just a few steps.

"He who is birthed within the blood of man shall not redeem his sins, but indulge within infinite grasps of human pleasure. Born from blood and thus destined to spill it, the heart of evil comes not once to knock, but thrice. For three is the holy, single truth that defines and shapes this reality. And with these three knocks, the angel of death shall withdraw from his arsenal his flaming sword, and cut asunder all those within his path. Blood for Blood. He who walks the path of Azrael shall prosper within the blood of others, and shall find his place within that which is Utopia. For who better to lead the hearts of men, than the angel whose wings have been severed? The angel of death, we await your return, such that we may as well be guided into the Afterlife. Save us, oh Azrael. Purify our sins."

Offering a change in expression, the young man's eyes become cold, and with a curt sneer, he turns his back on his friend.

"This passage, you would think that it could apply to someone with goals such as our own. But we are the foolish ones, being sheparded into an age of unreasonable conflict and irrational solution. We are, sadly, just human, and for this we shall fail."

Sighing and halting his movements, the young man raises his eyes to the skies above, allowing the spitfire rain to splash cold and hard upon his hot skin. Hair cascading about his features, a slight laugh, a mere chuckle escapes from between his lips. Nodding his head, he returns to his usual posture, quickly igniting another cigarette, and taking a deep inhalation. Snapping his fingers, he turns to face the Uchiha.

"Unless you ascend to godship."

He states slowly, closing his eyes at the thought. Clutching the cigarette between his lips, he gestures for Nevan to close the gap between them, and plants his palm upon the back of the neck of his friend, ignoring the slimy blend of sweat, rain, and blood. Pulling his forehead against Nevan's, he stares into his eyes with much seriousness.

"I cannot ascend with you, to that place. This is why I shall live below you, pushing you up. I am tainted, Nevan."

He says, releasing his grip, and proceeding to wave his hand about, forming intricate circles and artistic designs in the air with the smoke from the cigarette between his fingers.

"I am no longer human."

Edited September 6, 2006 by Ravage Nocturne