Indie LaCarre

The Descent

• Journal

  • When I close my eyes

    Damnation, damnation
    come back where you belong.
    Hell is your home, the sin is all you will ever need.
    Damnation, damnation, tell me your name...
    
    
    "Azrael?"
    
    My brother stood a few feet away, dressed in the unassuming clothing I was so used to seeing here on earth. He was smiling, his grey eyes glinting like silver, the flash of his teeth sharp and blinding.
    
    "Indie... Come here," he was holding out his hands, beckoning me. Going to him seemed like the most natural thing to do. My body obeyed my mind, my feet moving me in the general direction of my brother.
    
    Something inside me was breaking, crying out to be held. The pieces were falling, how long had I been broken? Everything I did was for Azrael. I loved him more than anything else.
    
    I had given up everything for him and I would tear the world in two if only he had asked. The distance between us was so short, my arms went out towards him of their own accord.
    
    "I missed you so much," I whispered when he held me. His arms were my home, his body seemed almost moulded to fit mine.
    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    Two halves of one heart.
    
    "How long?" Azrael whispered into my hair. I shifted slightly, looking up at him, my eyes questioning.
    
    "How long did you wait for me?" He clarified. That was one question I couldn't answer properly. There were no words to tell him, no images to describe all I had seen and experienced in the time I had spent away from him.
    
    I had drowned in my pain, suffocated in my own agony and choked on despair. Maybe my brother wouldn't understand. I didn't need him to. All I wanted was him, his body, his soul. Him.
    
    Azrael would heal me. He could save me. That was all that mattered.
    
    His fingers traced the lines of my scars, the place where my wings had once been. Of everything I hated about myself, those scars were the worst. It was a permanent reminder each day of all that I wasn't. All I had lost.
    
    "Let me make it better," Azrael said, his lips against my skin. Those were the words he had always used. They comforted me, they felt like old shoes, well worn and moulded to the feet of their owner.
    
    I have no idea how long we lay there. I clung to my brother with as much desperation as a drowning man clings to life. I wanted him to know just how much I needed him here. With me.
    
    Something sharp pressed against my abdomen and I looked down to see Azrael's fingers against my belly. His nails were like talons and when our eyes met, he smiled at me. The smile that always killed me.
    
    "Az?" I said, trying to move away. His other hand came up to press against my mouth, clamping down until it hurt.
    
    "You know I love you, Indie. I promise I'd never hurt you. But..." those words hung in the air as my anxiety froze into fear. My brother looked down at me, his eyes taking in my face as he contemplated.
    
    Hot tears stung my eyes as those talons ripped into me. I wanted to scream, to fight, anything. I was powerless. My brother hummed, his eyes trained on my mine, the smile on his face as real as plastic.
    
    The edges of my vision began to blur, darkening. Was I dying? I was, I reasoned. The tears fell now, freely like water to douse the pain of fire that was blooming upwards in me.
    
    "You know I love you, sister..."
    ****
    I gasped, pushing the covers away from my body.
    
    My brooch sat on the pillow and I snatched it up, clutching it in one hand.
    
    The last shreds of my nightmare were fading and I tried to comfort myself. The nightmares had been more frequent recently, starting up almost at the same time I stopped sensing things from the brooch.
    
    I sighed, pressing the brooch against cold, dry lips. Azrael? Please find me. I think I'm losing my mind...

  • Heathen

    I long to feel something, anything.
    
    I met a man named Will Hadote a few days ago. A wrecked soul with more problems than I could see. Kindness has never been my strong suit but I tried to help him, heal him...save him perhaps?
    
    Kindness is interpreted in different ways, often wrongly. I offered Will something stronger than all the crap he had been doing. Angel's blood. He didn't want it but he took it. Humans are complicated, something I'm only starting to see.
    
    Long story short, the man and I fell out. He's leaving the city, something I'd recommend. There's poison in the air, not everyone can breathe it for long. The only problem is, we might run as far away as we please but our problems never leave us.
    
    

    
    
    I felt something the other day, Azrael's voice. It was only a momentary thing, a stray thought. He was thinking of me.
    
    I realize most of the things I do are justified by my need to feel. I am not alive and I am not dead. I hang here in a strange sort of limbo, not really moving forward and not going backward.
    
    I killed a man the other day just to watch him die. A shady dealer I stole a stash of drugs from. He might have deserved to die but I feel almost guilty for being the one to do it. Now, I'm afraid I will only slip down further. Without a sense of direction or a purpose- anyone can become a monster.
    
    Am I already that? A monster? It looks very much like it. I take without giving and use every opportunity to hurt. I think that's why Will spurned me. He didn't want to fall anymore, he was sick of it.
    
    I understand that.
    
    I, however, am only just starting to fall. My descent is only the beginning and I'm afraid I'll be taking a few down with me.
    
    There is no warmth in my eyes, no kindness in my soul. I am poison, revenge and pain.
    
    Hell, Azrael. Where are you?

  • Cheap Thrills and Spills

    On earth, it was childishly easy to sin.
    After my body had to healed somewhat and I had regained enough of my senses to think for myself, I concentrated on finding Azrael. The world was a huge place, not as wide as the dominion of heaven but huge nonetheless. It would have taken me years, an eternity quite possibly to search for one person but I had Azrael's brooch with me.
    It led me to a sprawling human habitation, a city it was called. I didn't know the name of the this place but as soon as I stepped foot within its borders, my mind was assaulted with a barage of thoughts. In the old days, the humans lived in clusters, small villages with no more than a hundred people. This was nothing like that. The city seemed alive with more than thousands of people, all of them living, breathing and thinking. The thoughts ranged from the mundane to the worrisome: a mother wondering how she would find a babysitter for her children, a drunk man who couldn't remember his own name, two lovers having a heated argument about the disappearance of the woman's ex husband and whether the crime could be traced back to them...
    There was so much pain and misery, too much it seemed and before, I might have been able to help. I might have been able to alleviate some of their pain, their worries.
    Only now, I could have cared less if the whole world was burning. I had been cast out because of my brother, I was here because of Azrael and no one else. I would do whatever it took to find him. No one would stand in my way and down here, there was no Creator to impede my actions, no family to hold me back.
    I was free.
    When I wasn't thinking about my brother the city really was fascinating. It was rough and boisterous and yet held a strange charm I had never experienced before. Most of my powers were gone but I soon found a myriad of distractions to help me forget. The humans called it cocaine. It was a simple thing, a dubious white powder sold in packets or small chunks. It didn't matter. Soon, I was sniffing up six bags a day. It seemed to have no outward effect than a pleasant buzz than through me like fire. I loved it.
    Human blood was another one of my favorites. I knew about vampires, the unholy spawn of my brother, Lucifer. I had slayed a few of them in the past and I knew they consumed blood to survive. It was good, coppery and wholly refreshing in its taste. While I had no willing donors of blood, the males were easy enough to glamor and I stole from them what I needed. I made a mistake once of entirely draining a man of his blood while he slept and decided I had to be more careful if I didn't want to be discovered.
    Overall, I was living dangerously, feeding my addictions and sleeping among the shadows. I thought of the humans as beneath me. Their problems where never ending, their sins never failing. It was almost funny, how some of them still believed in God. Didn't they say there were too many of them to help?
    I was no longer a child of God, no, those days were over. My destiny was down here now, were sin was rife and there were more pleasures than I could count.

  • Azrael

    It is said that the nature of every angel is determined as soon as they are created. After Lucifer, that was the curse we all bore.I like to think that I was good, even before my descent. I know that isn't true at all, my sins are proof enough to show otherwise.
    I had a brother when I was still in heaven, an angel I would have gladly laid down my life for. Angels are not allowed to have relationships. Everyone is your family: a brother or sister since we are all moulded by the same Father.
    Azrael was the first angel I saw as soon as I opened my eyes and it would be an understatement to say I loved him. He was an archangel, a messenger in the league of angels like Gabriel and Mikael. No angel loved the human race as much as my brother did, in the end I believe that was his undoing.
    Just the same as he was my undoing.
    "Sister, come here," Azrael and I were on a regular scouting mission, searching for those in need of succour and offering it to them in any way we could. We had stopped in a clearing that had once been a scene of chaos as blood was spilt there.
    "Look at this," he said. My brother held out a small, grimy trinket in the palm of his hand.
    "What is it, Azrael?" I asked. He polished the thing with the tip of a feather and it seemed to glow, too beautiful for words.
    "It's a star," I breathed, gazing at the trinket as if it were the most miraculous thing I had ever seen.
    "It's a brooch, Indra," Azrael corrected, pinning the brooch carefully to my hair. "I've imbued it with a little piece of myself- that way, we'll be able to find each other if we ever need to. You will be able to feel everything I feel."
    I had never felt such emotion before and my heart swelled with adoration for the creature in front of me.
    "Thank you," I whispered, kissing my brother. It is the only good memory I have till date, the very reason I still seek him. Azrael didn't reproach me, something he should have done and the innocent gesture grew into an almost sinful affair.
    °°°°
    
    

    
    
    Azrael was cast out because of a human being.
    Archangels are among the most loyal of God's own, they are loathe to disobey any orders given to them, regardless of how disagreeable the task is. My brother broke that rule when he saved a woman who had been destined to die by drowning. He was supposed to drown her and by saving her, he had disobeyed our Father. Azrael's kindness overruled his sense of duty.
    All angels were to be present at banishments and I was there, the only angel shaken with fear and disgust in a sea of impassive creatures. Everything that happened to Azrael affected me: the brooch he had given me as a gesture of affection had become cursed, amplifying his pain through me a hundred fold. I wrapped my wings around myself, willing the torture to stop.
    There was no refuge, no relief and when my beloved brother had finally fallen, I rushed down to earth to find him. I roamed that cursed world for months, years, my desperation finally transforming to rage.
    I slaughtered hundreds of innocents, using my power to influence the actions of men. I watched them destroy each other, burning scores of homes with their own kind inside them. I took a cruel pleasure in this, it was my revenge: sacrificing the innocents my brother had once sought to protect, to save.
    I gave no protest when brothers of mine, archangels, were sent to drag me back for judgement. I saw the faces of angels I was close to, all of them with the same look of disgust and shame. They turned away when our eyes met, ashamed of their own.
    My wings, my most beloved companions, were torn from me without mercy. Every part of me screamed, crying out with the pain and fear of every angel who had ever fallen into disgrace. Being cast out wasn't just falling to earth. It was the slow, torturous process of being stripped of all you are, all you were- all you could ever be.
    I was a traitor, the most hated kind and only the harshest of punishments would suffice.
    There was no redemption for us, for me, and the only place I would be welcome now- was in sin.

  • The Beginning of the End

    Fallen angel, just learning
    to cry
    Fallen angel, hoping to die,
    you who basked in glory and
    in light
    Crawling in the dirt,
    with mud in your eyes
    
    You who are damned,
    orphan cast out aside
    Is there hope in your sin,
    salvation in your destruction?
    Could you build your wings with ash and stone,
    blood and rope?
    
    Fallen angel, searching for home,
    look where you lie
    Bruised,
    broken and shattered inside
    °°°°
    
    
    The first of the fallen was Lucifer.
    Beloved of God, he had a special place close to the King of all creation. Lucifer was loved, a brother to all. No angel could surpass him in speed or in flight. Simply put, he was perfect.
    Then came the day God created man. A small creature full of guile and wit, he had no wings or powers. He would be the newest of God's creation to reside in heaven. All were asked to bow as a test and all did- except one.Lucifer was outraged. He who was powerful and wise, asked to bow to submit to a being lower than himself. It was the ultimate humiliation, an insult on his righteous name.
    And so Lucifer was damned. He was the first to rebel, the greatest of God's commanders, refusing to obey. For this simple act of disobedience, his wings were torn off as punishment. There is no greater torture than for an angel to have his or her wings taken by force. Lucifer's screams of rage and agony ripped through the sky that day, tremendous claps of thunder that shook the ground. His back was sealed with boiling ichor- never again would he fly.
    Disgraced and in pain, he was cast out heaven, cursed to wander a land alien to him and stripped of all his former glory.
    That day, Satan was born.
    ****

• The Rules of The Gal

  Hell Yes!	Sometimes	Maybe	Hell No!
  Hell Yes! Messed up character Intrigue and mystery Convoluted plots Fights Extreme violence and language Sordid pasts Feedback, (do talk to me😊)	Sometimes Big groups In game erotica, (if it seems cool) Drug use	Maybe Temporary death Torture, (huge maybe) Gore	Hell No! Metagaming Perma- death, (big nuh-uh) Bitchy fits God moding Underage characters/players