Information
Penemuel has a minion!
Minion the Cando
Minion the Cando
Penemuel
Legacy Name: Penemuel
The
Nightmare SheetaOwner:
SagaAge: 12 years, 5 months, 3 weeks
Born: November 8th, 2011
Adopted: 12 years, 5 months, 3 weeks ago
Adopted: November 8th, 2011
Statistics
- Level: 5
- Strength: 10
- Defense: 10
- Speed: 10
- Health: 10
- HP: 10/10
- Intelligence: 1
- Books Read: 1
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Store Clerk
---
Penemuel put down his quill and looked into the orb he had been given as a present for his birthday a few years previously. He concentrated so the view changed - showing the destruction he had just caused. He smiled crookedly before looking to the clock on his wall and waiting; knowing he was soon to be captured for what he had done. His job as an angel was meant to be to help cause the "right" thing to happen through his writing but he got bored and decided causing a war or two would be far more interesting. He knew he was doing wrong (hah! Who had the right to tell him what was wrong?) by all standards he was used to but he couldn't care less anymore: he just wanted to play around and have a bit of fun. That wasn't really so bad, was it?
---
Falling? Oh yes, kicked out of heaven. Out of his home. He had forgotten momentarily from the shock of what was happening to him. He closed his eyes as he fell rapidly. Despite the speed, it would take seven days before his decent ended, unless all angels were just taught that to scare them into obedience. He hadn't been stripped of his wings as he had thought would have been the case but, as he fell, many of Penemuel's feathers were ripped away by the wind: leaving him with black, tattered feathers with large sections of bone exposed. It hurt. Leaving his family in heaven hurt a lot more than he had expected it to. He had expected to be indifferent about the fall but that obviously wasn't the case. He knew he would get used to it soon enough but, right now, he just wanted to return to his home with all his brothers and sisters - and his father, the man who had kicked him out.
---
Moving back into his office, Penemuel closed the door before locking it to ensure he couldn't be disturbed. Over the last few years, he had carried out a series of small experiments: slaves killing their masters, occasional spontaneous fights and so on - all between demons or fallen angels. It was an experiment to find out whether he was capable of controlling species other than humans through his writing as well and it had been a success. It wasn't much as things were but he was certain now that he wasn't just limited to small things like these and that he would be able to fully control both angels and demons as he could humans which meant that he would be able to have some fun. Of course, his new job of corrupting mankind through his work wasn't bad but it became as tedious as his old job for the angels at times and he wanted something different to do in his spare time. Something dramatic. Something that would be far more fun to watch. A war between the angels and demons with the humans caught in the middle. That way, he could watch all three species suffer at the same time. He had been speaking to Gammon about his plans recently and was glad to find that the fallen angel, his only friend, had agreed with him and was more than willing to go to earth and help.
---
He walked into his office and moved to sit down at the typewriter that had replaced his quill upon their invention. He had already written the war and was more than pleased with how it was going however he was in trouble at a far more personal level. He got ready to type before standing up suddenly and staggering backwards a couple of steps, knocking his chair over, as the door was thrown open by two masked demons - presumably so he didn't know who they were and couldn't write their deaths. He tried to grab a nearby pad of paper and the pen resting on top of it but was stopped short when the remainder of his wings were ripped out by one of the demons who had somehow managed to get behind him without his noticing. The pain momentarily stopped him which was enough for him to find his arms pulled behind his back and the demon dragging him away from the desk so he was stood in front of the door. He attempted to find a way to get free, glancing around his room, but was stopped as he felt a sharp pain from being hit on the cheek: a voice telling him harshly to look through the doorway where he would be unable to say goodbye to anything that mattered to him. He had been hoping to pick up a pen to take with him but, from what the demon was saying now, it wouldn't matter anyway. The last thing he was told before he was dragged out of his room was to stand still and look good at the auction - it's the only way anyone would pay a high amount for someone who would be as dangerous a slave as him.
---
Story continued here...
---
Profile by Chrissy
Stock image by Marjoleinthewitch
Penemuel put down his quill and looked into the orb he had been given as a present for his birthday a few years previously. He concentrated so the view changed - showing the destruction he had just caused. He smiled crookedly before looking to the clock on his wall and waiting; knowing he was soon to be captured for what he had done. His job as an angel was meant to be to help cause the "right" thing to happen through his writing but he got bored and decided causing a war or two would be far more interesting. He knew he was doing wrong (hah! Who had the right to tell him what was wrong?) by all standards he was used to but he couldn't care less anymore: he just wanted to play around and have a bit of fun. That wasn't really so bad, was it?
---
Falling? Oh yes, kicked out of heaven. Out of his home. He had forgotten momentarily from the shock of what was happening to him. He closed his eyes as he fell rapidly. Despite the speed, it would take seven days before his decent ended, unless all angels were just taught that to scare them into obedience. He hadn't been stripped of his wings as he had thought would have been the case but, as he fell, many of Penemuel's feathers were ripped away by the wind: leaving him with black, tattered feathers with large sections of bone exposed. It hurt. Leaving his family in heaven hurt a lot more than he had expected it to. He had expected to be indifferent about the fall but that obviously wasn't the case. He knew he would get used to it soon enough but, right now, he just wanted to return to his home with all his brothers and sisters - and his father, the man who had kicked him out.
---
Moving back into his office, Penemuel closed the door before locking it to ensure he couldn't be disturbed. Over the last few years, he had carried out a series of small experiments: slaves killing their masters, occasional spontaneous fights and so on - all between demons or fallen angels. It was an experiment to find out whether he was capable of controlling species other than humans through his writing as well and it had been a success. It wasn't much as things were but he was certain now that he wasn't just limited to small things like these and that he would be able to fully control both angels and demons as he could humans which meant that he would be able to have some fun. Of course, his new job of corrupting mankind through his work wasn't bad but it became as tedious as his old job for the angels at times and he wanted something different to do in his spare time. Something dramatic. Something that would be far more fun to watch. A war between the angels and demons with the humans caught in the middle. That way, he could watch all three species suffer at the same time. He had been speaking to Gammon about his plans recently and was glad to find that the fallen angel, his only friend, had agreed with him and was more than willing to go to earth and help.
---
He walked into his office and moved to sit down at the typewriter that had replaced his quill upon their invention. He had already written the war and was more than pleased with how it was going however he was in trouble at a far more personal level. He got ready to type before standing up suddenly and staggering backwards a couple of steps, knocking his chair over, as the door was thrown open by two masked demons - presumably so he didn't know who they were and couldn't write their deaths. He tried to grab a nearby pad of paper and the pen resting on top of it but was stopped short when the remainder of his wings were ripped out by one of the demons who had somehow managed to get behind him without his noticing. The pain momentarily stopped him which was enough for him to find his arms pulled behind his back and the demon dragging him away from the desk so he was stood in front of the door. He attempted to find a way to get free, glancing around his room, but was stopped as he felt a sharp pain from being hit on the cheek: a voice telling him harshly to look through the doorway where he would be unable to say goodbye to anything that mattered to him. He had been hoping to pick up a pen to take with him but, from what the demon was saying now, it wouldn't matter anyway. The last thing he was told before he was dragged out of his room was to stand still and look good at the auction - it's the only way anyone would pay a high amount for someone who would be as dangerous a slave as him.
---
Story continued here...
---
Profile by Chrissy
Stock image by Marjoleinthewitch
Pet Treasure
Raven Feather Quill Pen
Turkey Feather Quill Pen
Swan Feather Quill Pen
Black Inkwell
Blue Inkwell
Red Inkwell
Kora Scroll of Mystery
Reflective Riddle Scroll
Renaissance Scroll
Clean Typewriter
Galaxy Orb
Classic Typewriter
Bloody Zombie Drool
Vampire Blood
Bloody Zombie Drool
Dead Person
Dead Person
Dead Person
Pet Friends
Machlon
Eula
Gammon