((Okay, first attempt here at forum play. The setting is quasi-futuristic (basically this society in about 10 years or so). The Genesis Corporation is on the verge of releasing four "peacekeepers", cybernetically and genetically modified super-soldiers, though what is not generally known is that these four are indeed the Four Horsemen of Apocalypse. Right now most of the major cities are the picture of a dystopian metropolis, with the super rich living luxuriously while the middle and lower class resemble the poor. The Darkness has been wielding its influence, as has the Light, but not in the way you'd expect... Most demons are rogues or small groups, while the Light seems to have taken control of the system, and are planning its orderly demise. My character, Terial, disagrees with that plan. Maybe your's does too! Or maybe they're a part of that plan, or you could be a demon or angel who, frankly my darling, doesn't give a damn. ))
Midnight. The clock tower of the church would reverberate their almost labored and monotonous drone through its empty halls. What used to be a beacon of hope in a depraved and corrupt city now lies abandoned and condemned. It was only a few years ago that the place was a bustling beehive of spiritual and moral values, but as luck would have it, if there is such a thing as luck, the place had gone corrupt. Indeed, it'd become so vile, so depraved, that it had even taken part in human trafficking. Mostly children. What was worse, the corruption reached even the police department. And then it all came crashing down in a bloodbath, the likes of which still remained a mystery. All that was left now was the shell, the decrepit chassis of what once was. It made for a perfect place for Terial. And so he sat upon the steps that led up to the altar, long white hair spilling over his shoulder with its single streak of black. One of his two Colt .44 magnums was clutched in his hand, his eyes closed in contemplation. He was dressed in only his black pants and combat boots, his tattooed torso exposed with all of the angelic runes that almost seemed too perfect to be done by anything less than the hand of god.
Midnight. The clock tower of the church would reverberate their almost labored and monotonous drone through its empty halls. What used to be a beacon of hope in a depraved and corrupt city now lies abandoned and condemned. It was only a few years ago that the place was a bustling beehive of spiritual and moral values, but as luck would have it, if there is such a thing as luck, the place had gone corrupt. Indeed, it'd become so vile, so depraved, that it had even taken part in human trafficking. Mostly children. What was worse, the corruption reached even the police department. And then it all came crashing down in a bloodbath, the likes of which still remained a mystery. All that was left now was the shell, the decrepit chassis of what once was. It made for a perfect place for Terial. And so he sat upon the steps that led up to the altar, long white hair spilling over his shoulder with its single streak of black. One of his two Colt .44 magnums was clutched in his hand, his eyes closed in contemplation. He was dressed in only his black pants and combat boots, his tattooed torso exposed with all of the angelic runes that almost seemed too perfect to be done by anything less than the hand of god.
Sees a church just after haveing arived in this place he desides to walk in, not knowing what to expect he pulls out ebony and ivory his two pistols then opens the door.
As the stranger's footfalls echoed through the cavernous chamber of the chapel, Terial would remain quiet, unmoving, his eyes closed in silent contemplation. Once he was close enough to speak to easily, he spoke. "Virgil? No... Not quite..." he said, his eyes opening to reveal the two. One was a pure, softly glowing angelic white, while the other was a fuming hellfire green. "Ah... So it's true... Sparda did indeed have two children..." he said, pushing off his sitting position to properly address the man. He holstered his own two firearms, then moved his arms over his chest as he slowly paced while talking. "Tell me... What exactly do you plan to do with those two cannons?"
Holsters ebony and ivory. "That depends on your actions. I'm Dante and you are?" Extends his hand.
Terial did not immediately move to shake the man's hand, unsure of the consequences of partially infernal flesh's contact with Terial's angelic skin. Finally he took a step forward, uncrossing his arms and shaking Dante's hand. "Just consider me another forgotten soul on a plane they shouldn't be on..." he said as he stepped back again. "So Dante, what drew the likes of you to this place?"
"The same thing that takes me everywhere, Im a demon hunter. I got a lead saying there were demons in this city Also, looking for leads on how to stop my brother."
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