The Wings of Freedom [Demonica]
Joined : 2016-10-24
Posts : 422
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|Subject Post 1Subject: The Wings of Freedom [Demonica] Tue Jun 12, 2018 11:48 am|| |
Artist: Carrotwine - Song: Dark Side Of The Road
In an aging world, everything had its beginning, and it had its end; people and races, and hopes and lofty ambitions. Even the very strongest of beings had their ends. Even those whom at different points in history and myth were deemed as gods sooner or later met their fateful end. Even those who boasted immortality and transcendence would one day draw their last breath, see the last face, and feel the last emotion. Almost everything in the world was finite; almost
. There were very few sentiments that transcended space and time, the strongest beings who had ever lived, and those that were to follow. It was the desires of the heart and not the flesh that most often sacrificed a life in exchange for another. It was those desires that willingly left a life behind for the chance to fight and triumph in their struggle to earn the one they deserved. That sort of struggle never quite vanished, especially when it was so deeply burned into the self of the individual or the race as a whole.
Such was the case with the Quincy. The group had been to the brink of extinction more than a few times. Every time they had barely been able to hang on, just to endure and thrive, only to face potential extermination yet again. There wasn’t any doubt they were a resilient race that simply refused to stand down and die. In their process to create their own legacy they went through a number of changes in leadership and in organizational personality that shaped them into who they became. But at the very end, it was their choice to choose their own path that finally earned them the freedom to live as they pleased and die as they willed, and be happy about it. Sofia was far from having all of her life and her problems figured out, but she was getting there. As for the woman with whom she had scheduled to meet, it seemed she faced similar struggles, and at the very least needed someone to talk to. The Quincy wasn’t the type to go out and talk for the sake of helping, especially not a Demon, but there was far more in Demonica that met the eye.”I’ve been expecting you,”
Her words were directed at the shadow that projected a few feet before her, and at the energy that made its presence noticeable in her vicinity. There wasn’t much the Quincy knew about Demonica, but what she knew was enough. The Demon once had significant presence among the biggest names in the hierarchy of the Demons, and among other notable though decadent organizations like the Monsuta. She had been formidable in the worst of ways, and made a name for herself and her power in the very best of ways. Still, it seemed that defeat or failure had been a plague she hadn’t easily rid herself of. And whether it was that very thing, her pride, or how her people shunned her, the woman was done with everything she had once served and been loyal to. Of course, that was simply Sofia’s understanding based on the information she had available. There was enough room to be wrong, but with their meeting, it seemed al their questions would be answered.”I trust you know who I am,”
said Sofia with arms crossed underneath her bosom. “I am Sofia Montero, Sternritter Grandmaster of the Vandenreich.”
Her words were firm, and though she didn’t intend to gloat, there was pride in her voice. The girl had to be cautious, and with duo reason. There was no telling whether the Demon had a change of heart, or if her intentions had suddenly changed. Besides, given her level of power there weren’t many up to task to meet and face up to her. And more importantly, even if there were, she wouldn’t have missed the chance meeting. The Demon’s reputation and power preceded her, but so did the Quincy’s. Sofia was still widely known as the prodigy to her race that despite her youth was able to rival and surpass those over millennia older whether in battle of brawn or brains. She had simply matured in body and mind faster than most, earning the respects of beings several generations her senior. Her attire was rather formal and representative of the Sternritter uniform. It consisted of a white military uniform with outlines and edges of gold. Black pantyhose and gloves matched perfectly with the dark ebony look of her flowing black hair, and contrasted with the rich bright gold of her eyes. A pure and silky white ribbon on her hair finished off the look, with a katana, likely a spirit weapon, sheathed to her side.
Joined : 2011-09-01
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|Subject Post 2Subject: Re: The Wings of Freedom [Demonica] Tue Jun 12, 2018 9:52 pm|| |
THE BLACK KING EMERGES
Artist: Undertale OST - Song: Your Best Friend - Word Count: 914
All this power, all this might that she held in the palm of her hand. What was it good for? Demonica was out of her comfort zone. . her feet moving slowly against the trodden earth beneath her. Raven hair blowing in the wind like a whip, moving to the side as her clothing, simple yet elegant were rippling in the wind. There was many things present in the way this warrior demon held herself, there was pride. Oh yes, a pride that allowed her to challenge even the gods themselves if that was what it took, there was a ferocity that lay muted in her gaze, a savageness that could allow her to rip the earth apart, and fight the world alone without bowing. Yet there also was a desolation. . a loneliness that mired her gaze, it dulled the sharpness that radiated from her, it muted the raw power that cascaded from her being merely from her aura alone. What was power? It was the ability to glance at a person and overwhelm them with simply will alone, it was the ability to bring forth the wind and rain with a twitch of a finger, and banish it with a breath.
Yet what was it good for? She had failed against ibiki, had failed to keep her place of belonging and once more found herself alone in the world. Power. . was truly worthless when you thought about it realistically, the more of it you had--the lonelier you would end up being. Yet someone. . . unlikely had reached out to her. The prodigy of the quincy, known as sofia montero had a fortnight ago contacted her and suggested they meet. Demonica, having nothing better, and nowhere to go had decided to humor this request and that brought them to the present.
Demonica was a monster, plain and simple in the eyes of the world. She had caused so much destruction, erasing cities in the soul society, and destroying famous mountains in the world of the living. She had fought people who were known as the strongest of their kind, she had braved the wind and the rain. That aura was easily projected as she continued to walk towards the Prodigy of the vandenreich. However there was no. . malice behind that aura as the demoness, almost a half-head taller than the prodigy stopped around twenty feet from her, in time to hear the woman’s pronouncement of “I have been waiting for you “.
Demonica’s stance was, a window into her exhaustion. She had one arm tucked underneath her breasts, her hand coiled around the other arm that was resting at her side. Her eyes though. . . even as the darkness of her own sorrow dampened them there was such power behind that gaze. It was like she was peering down from the heavens that lay above. Very similar to the look that the quincy leader would give everyone. Distant as if she was keeping her true self from being seen by the realm around them. As if by doing this she could remain unharmed by the world, unchanged by it’s everlasting tides and wakes. Eventually a sigh would leave her lips, as the words would flow. None of them as maleficent as her reputation would lead others to believe possible. ”I am here, but why have you called me Sofia? What could you gain from meeting me? What worth is there in this encounter for you?”
Maybe this was a glimmer behind the curtain into the loneliness this being at the top felt. Her words were soft, as if she truly believed that sofia could gain nothing from her, or from their encounter. This was not pessimistic in the slightest though, given as the demoness looked. . worn. Her feet were bare given her shoes had long since worn out after leaving the monsuta, and she had discarded them. She truly was without a home to call her own, merely a eternal wanderer who had been goaded and pushed to the brink time and time again by that cruel thing known as “fate”.
Joined : 2016-10-24
Posts : 422
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|Subject Post 3Subject: Re: The Wings of Freedom [Demonica] Sat Jun 16, 2018 11:18 am|| |
[PLAY POSTING MUSIC]
THE QUINCY PRODIGY
Right before her stood the being with a name as heavy as their spiritual pressures. Even when doing their part to keep their energy under check, the ground shook slightly with the smallest of pebbles raising a few inches off the ground for moments at a time. The woman didn’t really fit the look she had expected. Demonica. For some time she had expected a towering beast covered in black and blood, and a hideous appearance that could send chills down one’s spine. While the Quincy couldn’t argue that the Demon’s reputation hinted at being capable of doing just that, her appearance was certainly deceiving. The lady was of fair height, possibly about three to four inches taller. Her skin was fair and smooth, just like Sofia’s, and her hair of a subtle purple tint. In more ways than one she was very attractive. Once one separated the persona from the look, there it was a highly beautiful woman. Perhaps there was beauty to be had beyond her physical veil, but it would take time to find, and it was neither here nor there.
”Try and place two and two together, said Sofia with an astute smile, ”You know exactly why I called you, but I can understand your curiosity.”
As she talked, the holy being, as some called them, walked closer. First it was ten feet, then five, then three until Sofia was standing less than a foot away from her. Such actions against either of them would likely have been met by death in almost any other circumstance; especially when both parties were acquaintances at best. Once she was before her, the Quincy would turn and circle the Demon, making no attempt to advert her gaze from her and her body. She admired the look of her body, likely made to perfection by the dark magic of the Demons. She couldn’t help but think of her own young Human body. Most found some kind of compliment to offer in its regard but it hadn’t yet been helped by the magical in its aesthetic regard.
”I must say I something else,” said the Quincy right behind her, biting gently on her lower lip. ”But I suppose I can’t complain. After all,” added Sofia as the sheathed end of her katana propped the white skirt of the Demon up to get a good look at the smooth look of her thighs. ”How could I?”
The action was bold, but it wasn’t as outwardly perverted as some could’ve made it out to be. Sofia had no interest to check on the shape of her butt, or even to see what the color of her panties were; not yet anyways. The woman was just interested in the womanly yet powerful physique of the being that had gathered such an infamous streak. More importantly however, the Quincy felt she had overdressed for the situation. Whereas Demonica wore a simple but pretty white dress, Sofia had arrived in fully formal Vandenreich attire. Surely sooner or later she would intend to change, largely for comfort. On a more serious note however, she couldn’t help but wonder what her newest acquaintance thought of her. Did she live up to the rumor or the look? Frankly there was very little they could gather from each other without a form of rough and primal negotiation but that would soon enough.
”I’m typically one for business before pleasure, but in this case perhaps its best to break the ice in a manner that would make our negotiations more… efficient. Nearest large city, downtown area. Do not be late.”
Without a moment’s notice she was off. The Quincy used that speed she was so famously known for. After all, it was a core element of her combat style. For someone that couldn’t rely on physical strength, physical altercations were usually the result of mixing great speed and momentum with her use of the blade. In tandem it allowed her to keep up with opponents she shouldn’t, and be that unique fighter most people spoke of highly. With her words however was another layer of truth visible only to a select unfortunate few. Only the very proud would see the clearly defiant challenge in her proposition. Sofia meant she would get there first, she only presented the expectation that Demonica try and not be too slow; and therein laid the problem. The Quincy was an extremely proud woman, the likes of which only people like Demonica would understand. More importantly, she never issued a challenge she knew she couldn’t win. After all, she wasn’t considered a prodigy because she was the fastest or the strongest, but rather because despite her youth, she was brilliant.
As soon as she was out of sight the Quincy did something. It wasn’t clear whether it was a technique, an item, or something else entirely but concentrating on her energy would be a lot more difficult. Either because her signature had vanished, because every other energy felt like hers, or hers felt like everyone else, it would present a real challenge. If Demonica stopped to try and calculate it sooner or later she would, but doing so would mean Sofia would get to the city first, as she said she would. On the other hand Demonica could have simply gotten to the city at the same time or earlier, depending on how their speed compared. However despite her words, getting there first had never been Sofia’s plan. She had no reason to leave her acquaintance but by the time they met she would have already won. Essentially, whenever Demonica arrived at the city she would not see her. Though the energy from the Quincy would quickly give away her position as being within a large clothing store where Sofia had already changed into a garment more convenient for the occasion, and more fitting to her liking.
Joined : 2011-09-01
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|Subject Post 4Subject: Re: The Wings of Freedom [Demonica] Sat Jun 16, 2018 9:00 pm|| |
THE BLACK KING EMERGES
Artist: Undertale OST - Song: Your Best Friend - Word Count: 914 “.. Mm..”
Demonica’s expression was one of slight confusion after the procession of words had finally come to a close. It wasn’t persay that anything that sofia said wasn’t expected, or at the very least warranted. It was rather than demonica, despite her ability to throw her weight around in virtually any fight known in existance--was not super experienced when it came to mundane social situations. They perplexed her, kinda of like a rubix-cube where an asswipe has switched around two of the stickers--she can get close to being good at it, but it’s never really clicked. That was why she didn’t really have a quick, witty, or. . well coherently smart-sounding response to the answers she had gotten, and had opted to fidget slightly in place and observe the situation as it was unfolding.
Admittedly however, demonica wasn’t expecting the quincy to broach her personal bubble, and to do so in such a. . close manner as she had. Demonica was a warrior, and as proud as she may be, she often did not like others invading the sancitity of her own “personal bubble”, too many bad things could happen that she might not be able to react to at such a short distance as the one sofia approached to stop at. However, she for the sake of curiousity and maybe. . because of the fact that this was a meeting, and not a deathmatch stilled her frayed nerves and let the interaction go on par whatever course it was heading down. A sentiment that brought a faint redness to the Demonesses lips as she felt the side of her skirt lifted with a . . . katana of all things. The way she was being surveyed, even though she knew there were possibly a thousand reasons for, when coupled with sofia’s words and actions made her feel well. . not quite like a slab of meat, but a runway model being eyed by the hungry wolves in the crowd, as if she was being judged
Then, of all the things Sofia could say, or do in this situation she picked one of the most baffling for the demon: Giving her a destination, and a time-frame, and . . . a location that truly meant nothing to her
. Thus as the quincy prodigy shot off like a veritable rocket towards her destination, Demonica closed her eyes and opted on the safer route--sensing her location and then hurrying over there at max speed. Sure, it irritated her on a soul deep level due to her naturally competitive nature. She didn’t
want to be the one there last, but in such a situation as this it was rigged almost to the point that she’d have to wait and figure out where this lass was going. Yet as she closed her eyes and honed in her senses to find the quincy, the prodigy had decided to certainly not make things easy for her.
The prodigy’s signature had essentially cluster-fucked itself in several different manners in a near simultaneous time-span. The result of course being that demonica had only sensed a clothing store before the delightfully frustrating quincy had vanished off the radar. ”Fuck.”
Demonica growled in a fairly guttural manner before she crouched down, her legs and arms taking the same position as a sprinter from the starting blocks. Only then did her body go to work, her powerful muscles rippling as she adjusted her angle to most of the force went back and down at an angle, her body launching off with such force that hair-line fractures would sink into the ground and back for a mile and a half. The kinetic force allowing demonica to vanish temporarily as the impending shockwave and sonic-boom lagged behind a few seconds after. At this speed it took her maybe a half a second to hit the city limits, and then another two seconds to stop without smashing through the city, or more importantly causing damage. Eventually though demonica would make her way to . . a clothing store, opening the door with one of the most . . disgruntled looks anyone may have had the pleasure of ever seeing on her face.
Her dress was . . . in tatters due to the back that to reach her optimal speed, she had removed her barrier to use her natural bodies properties to shred through the resistance in the air. Which unfortunately ripped through the special-made garment she had. The fact that it was stil . . on was a testament to the craftsmanship and durability of the piece in the first place. Now, naturally a half-naked girl with a stunning physique garnered quite a bit of attention. Most people would be embarrassed probably but demonica simply exhaled and walked over to the quincy prodigy and instead of asking what the devil she was doing she counted to. . maybe eighty and then asked in a even, and slightly curious tone. ”. . What kind of ice-breaking place have you taken me to here. . . ?
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