Thread: Cannon's ammunition.

A seemingly normal but excessively alluring man was walking down the cobblestone path into the moderate-sized town he was destined for. It was a travel of whim-- he had no real need to be there, but he figured it was for the best to stock up on supplies before the next bit of his journey. He longed to travel to a location a very far distance from the spot he now stood. It was a massive, luxurious kingdom with hot springs behind every lavishly decorated and incredibly attentive inn, known for bearing the finest of gourmet foods, the most attractive of humans, and the most wealthy of royals. This would be a grand destination to study the decadence of the human race and have a taste of the culture as well... This was his ultimate mission. He needed to decide if being human was worth losing his wings, or if the skies suited him more precisely. Light, form-fitting pants were tightly clinging to muscular thighs and nice calves while a black tank top stretched over his defined chest, leaving his finely sculpted arms exposed to any passers-by whose eyes would be tempted to view them. His feather-like, chrysanthemum-colored hair reached a bit down his back and sharp, storm-cloud eyes gazed forward, determined to reach the town without fault or incident. His pale skin made his dark eyelashes stand out in contrast... Overall, he was easily recognizable. Distinctive, even. He had a crimson sheath tied to his hip the sword within was his most prized possession... it was the weapon that fell with him from the clouds themselves, the blade that could keep ferocious demons at bay while he operated and survived on a planet riddled with vulnerable humans. He stretched his arms-- he wanted to release his wings from the shoulder blades that kept them hostage.. but doing so would draw a massive scene. He didn't need the attention. Karasu was his name. As he navigated the fog to reach the depths of the town, he passed by an alley... He stopped. Beneath the cloak of white, he could feel the presence of a few humans. All of them were breathing heavily, heartbeats excessively quick and bodies hot from exhaust. Were they initiating a sexual encounter? He pursed his lips, wondering if he should pursue this to see if it might be something worse than public indecency.. Ah, was that the smell of blood? He began to move into the alleyway and found a corpse with a dagger in his eye. Dead, certainly. So the living humans weren't engaging in intercourse, but something much more dark. He glanced around. No, he didn't sense any other living creatures within a few miles of this location-- Good. He spread his arms and unleashed his inner light. The skin on his shoulder blades began to stretch and rip before a pair of white wings the same shade as his hair sprung from his back like blooming petals from a dormant flower. His top was mangled by the force of the newly sprouted appendages and fell at his feet. Wind brushed up against his torso, filtering through the crevices of his abs and well-defined pectorals to soothe him. His wings flapped once, permeating a powerful wave of air that dispelled the fog in the near-by area. The scene that his eyes immediately began to analyze wasn't very favorable. Two men had tackled an almost emaciated younger man and were presently groping him for his gold. In what seemed an instant, Karasu appeared behind them, gripping them with his arms and throwing them into the air several miles from the alleyway. Their bodies crashed through many currently uninhabited residences before finally stopping. They wouldn't come back from such brutal impact and speed. Karasu examined the man on the ground before helping him to his feet. Why didn't you use your gold to buy new clothes? His voice was deep but tranquil, as if a soothing breeze or the caress of a feather. He needed not to be cruel to the almost-victim of a group of thieves, so he kept his expression relatively light.. though, he couldn't help but seem to be incurably serious nonetheless. His wings retracted into his back while he crossed his arms firmly across his chest. My name is Karasu... You may not tell anyone you witnessed an angel-- not ever. I'd like to know your name and your story, human. This is what he'd trained for all his life. His eyes closed as he went back to the very beginning of the contest... His first battle. Emil approached the set stage, a marble plateau in the center of the festival... Bloodshed was the prime entertainment for these people, and so he would bring them just what they wanted to exact vengeance against the world for discriminating against him his entire existence. Never had another demon failed to mock him for his slender, pale body and an 'atrocious' mess of pink hair. He'd been announced to all as a pussy, a failure to all of demonkind... but today was the day when he would change his fate by way of blade and fang, by way of slaughtering the many infamous beasts who entered the contest alongside him. And here was his first challenge a man who stood much taller, much more muscular than he. With a mop of black hair twisted and pushed into a tight, messy ponytail descending around his face from the very middle of a crown of teeth. It didn't take long before movement sprung into light. His enemy lunged at him with a degrading and immense roar. Emil side-stepped and monitored every minor motion. Another slash, and another, and another. Little cuts had shaped the smaller demon's entire body, adorned with white rags that hung about his collar bone and hips just enough to cover his nipples and member. It seemed he was losing. No, he was analyzing. Another lunge from the enemy. Emil ducked and swung upward, utterly forcing the male's head off with his spiked club, a massive blunt weapon that looked to be taller and heavier than his whole body. He smiled when he felt the warmth of the crimson liquid stain his white garments. He even enjoyed the minor sting of the scrapes he'd earned. The crowd was in shock at his unexpected triumph, yet they cheered as if all the demons had always accepted him as one of their own. Now, he glared at his final victim as he climbed the small staircase onto the stone stage to be viewed by many new but devoted fans he'd earned along the way. The man across from him, two braids made out of long hair and a body that seemed almost as vulnerable as his own, seemed ready for a brutal finale. Emil lifted his spiked club in the air before pointing it at his latest foe, a grin on his face. He was ready to soak the leather mat beneath his feet with this guy's bloodied corpse.