Information
Remael
Legacy Name: Remael
The
Galactic MontreOwner:
ScarleteAge: 8 years, 11 months, 4 weeks
Born: May 10th, 2015
Adopted: 8 years, 11 months, 4 weeks ago
Adopted: May 10th, 2015
Statistics
- Level: 1
- Strength: 10
- Defense: 14
- Speed: 10
- Health: 10
- HP: 10/10
- Intelligence: 0
- Books Read: 0
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Stock Worker
SO: Straight Angelic Rank: Archangel (fallen) Beast Appearance: Coming Soon! Mentally: Sane "What use are wings if they're broken...?"
Pronounced: Rem-ae-el Angel-oom Dom-in-oos (Angel of God)
Aliases: Rem, Remmi
Gender: Male
Species: Angel
Age: Immortal (appears in his early twenties)
Status: Single - Secretly hoping she still likes him...
Heavenly Status: Threat - A bounty has been offered for his capture
Role in the Hierarchy: The "Other" Leader (unaware)
Angel Appearance: Coming Soon!
Essence: Spirit and Space
Theme Song: Wasted Years - Cold
Tales of the Fallen
The day was dark and dreary, a light rain falling lazily from the sky to drench the world below slowly and coldly. I looked down to the human's world and couldn't help but smile faintly; they were so confusing and make things so very...complicated. It was a wonderful thing to look out beyond the realms of heaven--the only realm I'd ever known--and see what lie beyond. It was simply something different--something other then "honorable bloodshed". If only I could go back to that moment today and tell myself to stay away from that world and the battle that rapidly approached. Stay away from the edge. Most angels kept away from the borders of our realm, but I'd always enjoyed watching over the people we were supposed to be "protecting", even if we never set foot on Earth unless we wanted our wings stripped.
Perhaps that's why they made me an archangel. Or perhaps it was simply because I was one of the most skilled with a blade and some of the amazing power all of us wielded. The constant battle between heaven and hell was trying; demons often broke through our gates and the archangels would be thrust into battle to defeat them. It only took one battle for me to learn, and learn well, how to best defeat and destroy them. It only took one injury to realize that defense was your best friend during these lengthy wars. One injury could mean the turn of the battle. One traitor could mean the death of us all. And it only took one twisted mind to spell my demise. It was that same horrible day, so bleak and dire, and the battle swarmed around me. My blade had killed over 200 demons and it had hardly lessened the flow; two more creatures seemed to replace one that fell to my steel. In the chaos of the battle my blade became lost in an abnormally large mass of creatures attacking at once and knocking it away; I had no choice but to steal one of the demonic angel's blades and use it for my own. I took many injuries that day from their attacks, but after many painful hours they retreated back to their hell.
Then I saw him. One of the most powerful archangels lay bloodied and broken on the ground, crimson blood staining the white with it's dark color. His multiple pairs of wings were sprawled out at painful angles and the feathers were broken and tattered; the worst thing, though, was his eyes. The once beautiful emerald orbs now stared blankly out into nothingness from behind a cloudy veil--he was dead. I rushed forward to his side and knelt beside him, muttering to myself in jargon. It was impossible; angels couldn't be killed. They just...couldn't. We were the only true immortals and it was simply unheard of... My eyes lingered on his body until they narrowed in realization; from his chest sprouted my previously lost sword with his blood splattered upon it. I jumped back in pain at the sight--so it was true; only the blade of an archangel wielded by one of our own could kill us. But it obviously hadn't been me that wielded the blade...a traitor? But...who?
It didn't matter. In a span of seconds the avenging angels surrounded me and forced me to the ground, attacking me from all sides. They wouldn't listen to anything I said; it was my blade that had killed him and so all of heaven assumed I was guilty and had to be punished...and so punished I was. They thrust me over the edge of our world and fallowed me down toward the human's realm, gripping two pairs of my pure white wings painfully and, together, began to rip them off. I screamed out in pain; having your wings stripped was the most painful thing any angel could endure. My back felt as if it were on fire and cracking open at the seams...I could hear bone snapping into shards and my muscle tearing slowly and painfully. Everything blurred into a field of red until I could only hear the pounding of my pulse in my head instead of any rational thought.
I hit the ground only when the avenging angels threw me down as hard as they could throw, broken and bloodied feathers falling around me with the now down-pouring rain. I didn't fight it; I let myself fall for what felt like eons and hit the ground fully with my back down and what was left of my now-single pair of wings sprawled out flat against the wet earth. I had hit it with a crack; ribs breaking and, as I think about it now, I'm surprised I survived. But I guess death was too easy a punishment for me. I dully noticed, through the pain, that my wings were now tattered and pitch black; no longer fully fledged with swan white feathers. I felt two long rips down my back where the rest of my wings used to be; all that was left of their memory a jagged and bleeding cut all too deep. I still bear the twisted scar of that memory.
My hair plastered against my face in a matter of seconds with the rain and my eyes remained closed as if that could ward off some of what I didn't want to believe was true. I no longer wore the golden armor of archangels; no, I now wore only jet black pants with my torso left bare and streaked with the blood from my back. I felt myself loose consciousness only when I saw the last crimson feather fall from the sky and land on the ground; blackness came to claim me until I would awake the next morning a Fallen. I don't know why I cut my previously long hair short later; it still somehow held the same color of the azure night sky. I think it might be because the style was far too painful a reminder of what I used to be. My eyes still stayed the color of the stars even though I'd been banished from their realm. I still looked like what I was always supposed to be....except for my tattered raven wings and the scars around them.
I had gone from one of the highest ranking angels to a hated and banished Fallen in only a matter of moments; it was enough to make even the best of people bitter I guess. But I wasn't bitter about what I'd become...only bitter because the real culprit still had white wings and a life not set into chaos. When you get told that you're some sort of evil being that's damned to eternal fire, you start believing it. And yet I remember my last thought before I blacked out that night very clearly...
The higher the rank, the harder the fall.
In-Depth Statistics
* Celestial Fire - has control over a blue and black celestial fire with pinpicks of silver within it because of his previous position as the archangel of night. This is mostly used through his staff, though the control over it is flawless and can be used in any way fire can be imagined to use. The fire itself, though, is more dangerous and far more deadly. * Angelic Advantages - has godly speed and strength that far surpass most if he expends the energy to use it, though he doesn't exactly look it at first glance. * Warrior of Weapons - He is also a master of weaponry and knows how best to quickly and accurately kill a man...or a demon. He mostly prefers his angelic staff, which he somehow managed to keep, or his archangel sword, though that is currently missing after his fall and he does eventually hope to find it. * Master of Improvisation - Ramiel is actually pretty clever as well and is known for his quick thinking, even if it makes him a bit impulsive. He's able to worm his way out of nearly any bind and seems to have a knack for getting out of all the trouble he gets himself into. * Flight - Though his wings are tattered, he is still able to perform amazing aerial acrobatics, though not as "well" (according to him) as he used to. He's also a master of aerial combat despite the fact his wings are a rather weak point. They also, because they are archangel's wings, are razor sharp if he's using them in battle and can slice through flesh like knives. They remain feathery if he isn't using his powers, however.
Attitude:
Ramiel is a rather quirky fellow, and despite being an archangel he doesn't typically act like one. A darker personality looms behind his antics, though, and it is one that almost seems a bit regal and mysterious. However, he has an excellent mask, or rather a second personality, that he shows to the public and is better known for. With this personality, he's very cocky and is always a bit over-confidant, as he tends to come off as the person who's dashing and unfortunately knows it. He has a bit of a tortured vibe to him (on occasion), is patient (sometimes...), and always has his classic smirk across his face that shows he's not scared of...much anything, really. Despite a reputation that proceeds him and his name, he actually has very little memory of who he was before his fall and this information seems to be slow to return to him--it seems a bit like self-induced amnesia that borderlines denial. He'll never claim to be the "good guy" despite his actions generally falling on that side of the scale, and he's not one to make real connections with people; he's friendly, but he doesn't want the ties of friendship or otherwise. When he has a purpose, though, whatever that might be he is incredibly adamant about completing it at any cost--this goes for his few friends as well, his loyalty being nothing short of flawless.
Weaknesses:
* All abilities come at a cost - Regardless of what ability he's using, be it celestial fire or something as simple as increasing his speed, it costs stamina and a lot of strength. This puts a very definitive limit on how often he can actually use his archangel abilities, and this limit is getting lower and lower the longer that he remains on earth. Eventually, all of his previous power will fade away completely if he is unable to return to Heaven. * The Corruption of Earth - Angels were never meant to reside on Earth for long periods of time, and as a consequence they slowly become more corrupted, especially those of higher ranks. Because of this Ramiel and his powers are especially susceptible to the temptation of the darker things in life, making his mindset and abilities shift as long as he remains trapped on the ground. * Broken Wings - His wings and back also cause him a good bit of pain and are a real weak point, though he doesn't often show it; two pairs of his wings were completely ripped off when he fell to leave twisted scars and the one remaining pair he possesses are tattered and still broken in places, making flying and wielding them as weapons difficult and painful. Much of his angelic power was lost in the fall as well, so despite how powerful he is he actually considers himself fairly weak in comparison to what he was. * Not the Best at Blending In... - Because Ramiel has no intention to hide his wings, nor any way he would, he often gets a lot of attention wherever he goes if he doesn't hide them under a large jacket or something of the sort. His azure hair and silver eyes also get quite a few glances as well as his "perfect" appearance, which makes it nearly impossible to hide his identity.
Fun Facts:
* His staff is never far. This weapon was his favorite to wield in heaven as an archangel, and he somehow managed to keep it when he fell. This staff acts as a sort of magnifier for his power when he uses the orb end of it so that it can make him have a tiny bit of the amazing power he wielded before the fall. * He has an unexplained obsession with Italian food * The glove he wears over his left hand and arm actually covers his Hierarchy seal, which appears like a tattoo; the same emblem hangs on his pendant (the crescent moon and cross). He originally hid it in the attempt to prevent those who knew enough about angel lore from identifying him as an archangel as he thought it was nothing more than a tattoo representing his rank, but since then he has learned that it represents something different entirely and has the potential to force him to listen to commands from a corrupt angel he can no longer remember.
Glimpses of Broken Wings
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About the Plot: The Hierarchy
Stuff about the Hierarchy plot to go here! Woo! :D
Teach Me to Fly Again...
Heavenly Ranks
Beyond Heaven's Borders
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