forum Honestly I shouldn't be allowed to open rps. (Closed) (yes another one-on-one) (stalkers welcome!)

Started September 26, 2018 by @Dirt

tune

Zackary’s wings shivered in pain again as he glanced out of the tent.
“What’s that, Afriel?” He looked at her, his body still turned to the direction of the exit of the tent.

"A meeting." Afriel sighed knowing the alarm of the horn all to well. Insted of going from tent to tent they'd sound an alarm and give everyone a heart attack. "Hey, relaxe. Everything's gonna be okay." She noticed his shiver, "the bag thief is afraid of a couple angels?" She tried to lighten the mood, fear starting to flood her too.

Zackary swallowed nervously, her attempt at lighting the mood going over his head. “Do I have to talk? Why did you bring me here again?”

Afriel sighed, "probably, and because I can't just leave you to starve for the next few days." The horn blared again, making Afrile jump once more. She may have heard it thousands of times, But this one was different. It could mean life or death.

Zackary jumped when it sounded a second time too.
“W-well let’s go, then… before they blare our ears off…”

"Yeah." Afriel looked to Zackary giving a reassuring smile, "you'll be fine." And with that she led the way to where meetings where held.

Zackary gave a little nod and forced himself to walk out after her. He steeled himself for all of the comments from the Angels, hoping they weren’t angry at him.

Most of the glare's weren't even directed at Zackary, but at Afriel. "Better make your point good." She mumbled taking a seat and looking up at the lieutenant.
"I've called this meeting because we have a demon who wishes to make a point. You may take the floor." Afriel was surprised that they would let him talk so freely. Especially so soon.

Zackary shied away into his wings, where they shivered slightly in constricted pain.
“I’m not exactly what you would call a Demon… but I can speak from a viewpoint of one. We… we Demons just fight you guys for the love of it. We have nothing to prove against you.” He fluffed himself out slightly. “Especially… considering we’re siblings and stuff. Being made together; but that’s why I think we shouldn’t be fighting. Because we’re family. Demons… we’re not so bad. And I know, we’ve killed many of you, but think… you’ve killed many of us, too. It’s no wonder we’re fighting back.”

Shouts broke out among the others, "your king started this war!" Was one of the louder ones.
Afriel put her head in her hands rubbing her temples, "yes, but we continued it. We need to make peace! Or this war will kill us all." She looked around at everyone angrily, "many of us have died! And who's to say who's right and who's wrong? Do you really want to keep fighting? Killing?" She shot a glare to another Genarel who opened their mouth to protest, "think about it! How much long can we- all of us go?"

“Not for much longer,” Spoke Zackary, glancing up. “Demon numbers are dwindling. We’re just too proud to admit that to your forces; you just keep fighting us. Killing us. You’re supposed to be the peacekeepers. Demons are just for blood, especially if you push that.” Zackary’s wings shivered in pain again, but he was no longer afraid. He uncurled them, showing off the long, black feathers and the angelic shape of them.

Hush whispered where passed around before anyone spoke aloud, "how many are left?" Afriel knew where this was heading, "what does it matter? We need- have to make peace!"

"What! So they can build their forces again and attack us?" The low ranking officer crossed their arms in front of themselves, "and who's to say you're not under some trick, Afriel? He- That Demon could be tricking us all! And you brought him here! To our camp! What else have you done? Told him our plans? Showen him our strategies?"

Zackary held himself aloft. “I will not tell you our numbers, I will not tell you our plans. But I got hurt, to the point where it hurts to fly.” His hands itched down to his stomach wound, ready to yank up his shirt to prove the point; he just wanted peace. If he had to show himself off because of that, so be it.

The crowd quieted and all eyes turned to Zackary. Afriel looked away for some reason that she couldn't explain. She decided it was because she didn't want to see his wound. Even if she was used to seeing wounds.

Zackary swallowed a little, tightened his hands over his shirt and lifted it up to reveal his wound. (Gore warning): It was a jagged mark that came in through deep, most likely made by an Angel spear. Despite Zackary’s effort, it was still bleeding slightly in the center and there was only a faint scab around the edges. If Zackary weren’t wearing dark clothing, the pus, blood and genral woundstuff would have bled through his shirt.

"What do you think to gain by showing is your wound? You could have done that to yourself! After all, you are a Demon."
Afriel shook her head at who just spoke, "you think he'd risk his life? Injuring himself and coming into our camp?" She turned her attention to Zackary, "we need to get you to a medic."

Zackary fluffed himself out, spreading his huge wings. “You think I would put myself in danger just to get ridiculued by Angels? I am trying to prove a point, and I think my wounds is more than enough to show that this war has gone too far.” He thrust his shirt back down over the wound defiantly, curling his slightly shaking wings back up.

"To far because you got hurt? What about all that have lost their lives? Bring this argument to your king!" With that the Angels started leaving. The lieutenant stayed back, "I believe we have a war to prepare for, and a traitor that needs dealing with. You may leave, Demon." Afriel was glad that they'd let him leave, but she knew her own fate would be much worse. "He needs medical attention first, come on Zackary. I'm sure the medic would be more then happy to give you a check up." She shot a glare at the lieutenant, a warning to back off.

"No." Zackary shook out his head. "I know the lives lost is enough. But you're just stroking the flames if you wish to bring it to my King. Satan is rutheless. He will not listen close. I thought you'd do the honors of wanting to avenge the lost lives, or better yet, stop this war, but instead you ignore your only chance of peace. That's sickening." He spat the last word, glaring up at the leaving Angels.

None stopped, they continued to leave till they where all gone. "They're just stubborn." Afriel mumbled looking back. "What would happen if we to surrender?"

"The war will be over," Zackary growled darkly, glaring after the Angels. "We don't want to fight anymore. We're dwindling severely in our numbers." He dropped his gaze.

"I don't think either side, yours Espesily, will surrender willingly. Why don't more demons speak out? Like you I mean." Afriel asked as she stood.

"I don't know any others like myself. As far as I know, it is just me." Zackary's angelic wings shivered in indignation as he glared at the entrance of the tent, still disgusted by the Angel's stubborn stupidity and ruthlessness.

"Well I'm glad there's at least one good demon out there. Now! Medical attention! I can't have you dying on me anytime soon." Afriel smiled up at him, hoping he'd let it go. Perhaps the next meeting would go better- if there was another meeting that is.

"No, I don't need any medical attention. I don't want some Angel to feel uncomfortable because they have to help a Demon. I'll be fine." Zackary fluffed himself out again.