Post by tajvar fereydun on Dec 29, 2012 1:30:32 GMT -5
It all started from his father. It was always his father asking him to do this, to do that, and each time, he'd performed well. Tajvar knew he was the apple of his father's eye, and Ali was always sidelined. His sister -- his father rarely enjoyed talking about her, or at least, he rarely talked about Soraya in his presence. All the man seemed to be focused on were demons and grooming this particular son (him) into becoming a demon hunter just like him.
The thing was, Tajvar was a reluctant heir. Initially, he went along with everything because he didn't know what to do with his life, but as medical school came along, he grew interested in a normal, human lifestyle. It didn't matter if he was a waker and quite possibly destined to do greater, better things in the world. Neither did it matter to Tajvar that his demon-hunting lifestyle would catch up to him one day --
-- because then, he always had the option of showing mercy to them. His mother had taught him that much, and it seemed a reasonable alternative to what his father and ancestors of the Fereydun family had been doing all these years.
He envied Ali, too, but Tajvar didn't enjoy dwelling on that. He felt petty, for it was his younger brother. The young man had been playing with a dagger under the table, testing its sharpness by flicking his finger across the blade and found it to his satisfaction. He slipped it into his bag, saying nothing else as he glanced out of the glass window that stretched from floor to ceiling.
He'd made sure to tell his father that he would be doing no hunting tonight. Keep an eye out for a demon, maybe, but no sealing or demon-related combat. Tajvar remembered the compromise they reached, and it still bit him in the gut at the memory of admitting that Fereydun blood was in his veins.
Sobered by that, he left the hotel lobby, bag over his shoulder.
Letting the sands blow past him Justus glared about him almost distractedly, this had proven to be an irritating day so far and he couldn't quite place it. Wakers seemed attracted to him for some reason, as if his strength would protect them. Letting a faint sneer touch his face the human glanced down at the latest deluded Human. Bleeding from multiple wounds, none of which were fatal it was mewling about how strong he was and that together they wouldn't be stopped. Looking away again he frowned, these things about together weren't him anymore.
Finally fed up with it he turned on his heel and started walking, the sands catching his black cloak sending it billowing behind him revealing an equally colored skin fitted sleeveless shirt underneath the cloak and buckles. A hand grabbed his loose baggy pants around the right ankle in a desperate grip causing him to pause, mercy was necessary, it seemed. His Aura flared about him into a single luminescent beam that illuminated him as if on a stage. Glancing back and down as his raw Will beat down on the creature Justus gave it a contemptuous look before jerking his leg free sending it flying into the air in the process. Without turning a Corroding poisonous blast seared down from the sky, his specialty Corroding poisonous blast, engulfing and vaporizing the target.
"Mercy is given only to those that are weak and need others."
He said quietly checking his Aura and consolidating it around him. Attracting all kinds of attention wasn't his main objective right now, but earns it he probably had. Breathing deeply the Demon set a steady pace away from the now settling dust and sand from his earlier irritation searching once more for something that was going to make him stronger. The storm within him had yet to settle, he was uneasy about everything that was happening. Passing through the Aura presence completely Justus ignored it, dismissing it as a front of a creature puffing itself up on its' own existence. Nothing was strong enough to do this kind of degree of Aura presence unless in combat.
Not planning on confronting it, he simply didn't want to go around it. It would take too long to reach his goal, wherever that was. Unconsciously his left hand rested itself on the hilt of his Staff, something in him had recognized a threat that his consciousness was deliberately ignoring. Continuing his path unabated, not even quite sure if this was merely the fringe of it, or if the path walked was straight through the heart of a beast, each step he took only provided increased amounts of irritation at his own flagging resolve and the drive to push onwards regardless.
The state of his peace, for only in it could he accomplish what he desired, to understand that which others chose not. His peace could be attributed to something with ease, for even though his powers were altogether hidden, his immediate surroundings still carried with them the weight of his might. Or all of this, the man could only keep himself in the calmest of minds. Perhaps if such were done, the man would find that which he had no intention of trying to seek after.
count, 547(Weak Post)
characters, justus
Last Edit: Dec 29, 2012 3:24:51 GMT -5 by november
Post by tajvar fereydun on Dec 29, 2012 3:38:29 GMT -5
Hunting demons sounded like a sport the first time he heard about it. A strange sport, but still a sport nonetheless. It wasn't until a rifle had found its way into his hands that Tajvar was greatly surprised -- this was serious, serious business. The weight of the gun was still on his hands even though he had set it back into his father's arsenal, and so was the weight of the expectations his family had for him even though he accomplished everything he had set out to do.
He scoured the streets of Times Square, relying on next to no magical equipment to locate whatever demons might be around. He knew that demons could assume a human form, and there were usually characteristics to them, but without any knowledge of how this particular demon employed himself in the human world, Tajvar was as good as a sitting duck. (Since when was he not a sitting duck against demons? He had no magic to cast, only instinct and uncooperative ancestors.) His shoes crushed a juice box on the pavement, and he walked on, as if he hadn't stepped on anything at all.
Even at this time of day, the square was filled with people. Bright lights, chatter, hustle and bustle. Finding a particular human amongst the people was a gargantuan task; finding a demon, a step up from that. He had no artifact or supernatural sense, just his brain and eyes and Tajvar couldn't help but feel rather helpless at it all.
"Just appear already, will you?" grumbled the demon hunter, kicking a lamppost but inciting no reaction from passersby. "I don't have -- all night."
A lovely day in Times Square, a place that had once known war but now knew peace, its inhabitants completely unaware of what had occurred, or what was soon to take place. In the heart of the city itself, the earth did begin to shake, an earthquake perhaps? The citizens who walked the streets stopped, leaning against buildings that had begun to sway to and fro, maintaining their balance. A large fountain was nearby, gushing with lovely water, the stone around its foundation beginning to crack and give way, something beneath it pulling it under. Suddenly, a gaping hole appeared and the water vanished into the depths. Curious humans stepped forward as the tremors finally stopped, looking to get a glimpse at the small scene of destruction.
A nearby officer quickly ushered people away, radioing in what had occurred, barking orders, until of course, he gasped for air, a curtain of blood splattering against those near him. He looked down, horrified to see a massive staff stuck through his chest, a staff attached to an appendage behind him. Onlookers watched in fear as he was suddenly pulled into the massive hole, the tremors starting again and children screaming in fear. What was happening in their lovely city? The hole in which the man was pulled to suddenly closed shut, a decent plume of dust and dirt exploding upwards.
Menacing, coated in the blood of a grand entrance were the first thing seen, frightened people running from the sight, a pathetic attempt. Cruel laughter filled the air, its bass voice wicked and unheard by those not gifted with spiritual awareness. The markings on his visage became to gleaming a sinister blue, dust and debris falling around it, hiding it from sight for but a moment, only a moment. To those who knew what this was, he would be called a demon, a high-classed, and powerful.
“Hm. My apologies…only my second time travelling like this.”
His voice keen and soothing. He was Justus Von Grandel, the World's Demon, the god who would bring nothing but pain to the world of Man. Or those were his intentions which cannot be fulfilled alone. raven hair shined beneath rays of the different lights from overhead, the grand mane flowing, bringing color to the dead world. The head from which the mane sprouted sported a sharp face, the like belonging to a man of nobility, just as the attire most certainly belonged to a noble. A long stride took him across the sands, methodic steps carrying him along his aimless path, a noble warrior dressed in garbs of silken dark and grey. His chest clad in a cuirass befitting of the Orient glistened, its black sheen reflecting the mood around it.
This was his means to ensure that the weak stayed away from him, those opportunistic and hopeless hunters who dared to think his back presented made him an easy target. This display of his was a means to ensure that the others would forever know that he was not without vision. Certainly less than hostile though he may have been, this lone man whose name escaped so manys’ lips was nothing of the sort to waste time. Alike the days he had spent before, he walked now with a purpose to find that which others thought to be lost.
There was no true intent to the purpose of his appearance in the human world, only to take muse in the darker things that spout up into the human world; gambling, lies, deceit, adultery, etc. All the things demons enjoy, it was like a movie to Justus, seeing the troubles of others. Now all he needed was popcorn and a place where he can watch the tragedy unfold.
Post by tajvar fereydun on Dec 29, 2012 4:20:54 GMT -5
Nothing had happened except for fleeting pain in his foot that he willed away. There was no point in violent outbursts, alone as he was in vast Times Square. His actions were no more than a dent in a golf ball, for it was already filled with holes that another would make no difference. His trajectory along the pavement was a common and predictable one, and like the other humans who walked, they all stopped in unison at the edge of the road to wait for the light.
Waiting was a chore, and Tajvar found himself checking his phone. He was to meet assistance in an hour's time, but should he find the demon beforehand, he was to notify them instantly. Tajvar, however, had no intention of doing so. He fully intended to leave everything in capable hands, and instead, head home for rest and light reading.
He hadn't quite noticed the commotion erupting in a part of the square until it had blossomed into chaos -- people frightened by the apparition, some unperturbed until the scared ones collapsed out of fear and shock. It was all supernatural, and try as Tajvar might to ignore it all, his eyes were opened, and he was no sleeper, but a sorcerer of minor power. He could see the demon just fine, but apathy stopped him in his tracks.
There it was, a good hour earlier than promised. He sent the text message, his eyes staring blankly at the demon's distant figure, only moving when the light turned and the oblivious crossed to the opposite side.
Demons fascinated him, but what demon hunter wasn't? This particular demon warranted further inspection, and Tajvar was torn between having a closer look and leaving the scene to more experienced allies -- he didn't have to decide, however. The crowd moved to investigate the frightened and fainted, and he followed, like he had all these years, never making a decision of his own.
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