Planet Hell

[Reaper]

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From the ashes of hate

It's a cruel demon's fate. On the wings of darkness he's returned to stay. There will be no escape 'cause he's fallen far from grace. When the shadows remain in the light of day, on the wings of darkness he'll retaliate. He'll be falling from grace till the end of all his days.

II

Gabriel hadn't been in the realm too long, but long enough that he'd gotten a feel for this Nevermore town and had a good idea of what had brought about the current state of things and what was and wasn't possible. He'd spent quite a bit of time with Chibi, and he'd met Kanan fucking Jarrus when the man had been well enough to leave the hospital. It'd been one thing to know the man was there, and quite another to see him face to face. He'd stayed hidden in his mask, which had annoyed the Jedi, til he'd explained why he wore it. After that the man hadn't pushed him to remove it.

They'd gotten along quite well, actually, though he was well aware that Kanan didn't approve of his mercenary work. But as Gabriel saw it, they needed it. Even with Chibi's good job and Kanan helping out with a job on the right side of the law, the lack of things sometimes still meant they didn't have enough at home. While he didn't technically need to eat, it helped to ease the gnawing hunger for souls and life-force that he dealt with otherwise. It let him go longer before he had to take a life.

Not that he particularly minded it anymore - he found some of it disgusting, true, but he'd long since resigned himself to feeding off of others. Besides that, there were plenty who deserved death in this place. It was easy to find one of them and isolate them from everyone else so he could eat them. He'd then take their money, supplies, and whatever else they had and use it for his little family.

He also took on jobs that were essentially robbery and burglary. He preferred the latter, as it meant there weren't bystanders getting hurt. While he wouldn't hesitate to do what he needed if others were around, he did prefer to minimize it. But if it wasn't possible, he'd just try to keep the collateral damage as low as possible. Sometimes. Maybe. Generally only when he knew others who'd disapprove were watching or would be aware, actually, if he was being honest.

The robberies were harder. A few of the groups had private stores where they hid and stockpiled food and other supplies that the whole town could use. It was brilliant, but Gabriel wanted those for himself and his family. The leftovers would go to the others int he town who needed them, but not until he'd taken what he wanted first.

He didn't normally go out at night though. There were monsters - worse monsters than him, at any rate - that prowled the streets. No one came out at night, unless they were suicidal. Maybe he was. He couldn't really say. There was a deep ache and a confusion in him, and it had only gotten worse as he'd found himself pried out of his shell again. It was just like back home, only this time it was Chibi prying him out, with Kanan patiently helping.

Shaking his head, he dragged his focus back to the present. It wouldn't do to get distracted. Doing that here, late at night, and outside, was a death sentence. Not that he could die. It'd just fucking hurt and then he'd be back, ravenous, and without supplies. A deep growl from further in town told him something was already there and he'd not want to go through the square.

That annoyed him because the warehouse he was hitting was a straight shot across from him, and the fastest way was through the square. There was a chance he could wraith past, but some of these things interacted with their surroundings different and it'd be just his luck that this was one that could yank him out of wraith-form and do serious damage.

No, he'd go the long way around, whether he liked it or not. Stretching, he grimaced and then slid into the deepest of the shadows, easing around the side of the building. The first indication he had that something was wrong was a slight resistance against his feet. In the next moment he found himself bound by inky darkness - the shadows were alive and there was a gaping maw at the center of them.

\"OH FUCK ME!\" That was probably louder than necessary and he was sure the occupants of the house - if this one was even occupied - had woken out of a dead sleep at his exclamation. Concentrating, he let himself melt into a smoky cloud, whirled away from the thing, and then reformed. With his guns out.

The thing was a pool of shadows that stretched out, and there seemed to be eyes and mouths everywhere on it. It reminded him a bit of his own form, when he lost control or went too long, but he pushed the thought away. That way led to bad things and he needed to be able to focus. He brought one Hellfire up and shot at it as the thing inched toward him.

Tag: Open | The beastie is strong, so you'll want someone who can hold their own unless you want a furious and likely hungry Reaper around. Can't promise your character will be in good shape after.

lory

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