Miles Jacob had a good life, before the Rikti that is. He sat on the steps in front of Miss Liberty, silently envying the Hero's lives. "Bastards, you've got it so good and none of you seem to care...." Filled with bitterness, he stood up and walked away.
Later that night, he walked the streets of Kings Row, wondering where his next meal would come from. Hearing shouting down an alleyway, he slowly sneaked in that direction. He was greeted by the sight of three dark men in robes, performing a ritual. A ghastly green glow was emanating from the middle of them, encasing what looked like a well to do businessman. Screaming, the man was calling for help. A blur came shooting out of another alley, tearing into the robed figures, a silver clad hero materialized, taunting the evil men as he broke up their circle, and their determination. Fleeing in three different directions, the hero grimaced, chose a target, and shot after him. In the confusion, the businessman was forgotten, as was the case with most so called "rescues". Looking about, Miles slowly crept over to the dieing man. "Help me...", he begged pitifully.
"Help yourself, that's how it is now...", Miles reached down, ruffling through the mans pockets, he took his wallet and ran. He kept up the pace for about five minutes, until he collapsed by a dumpster, sobbing. "Is this truely what I've become? Is their even a point left?" Looking through the wallet with tear stained eyes, he took the cash, threw away the wallet and dropped his head in his hands, sobbing pitifully.
A whistling sound was his only warning as a figure from his nightmares crashed to the ground in front of him.
It stood roughly six foot tall, clad in medieval style armor, buckled leather boots, and a cowl hiding the bottom of his face so that only his blazing red eyes, short red hair, and horns, curving from his temples down and towards the front of his face, as if he was sighting Miles down with them, as if they were piercing his soul. Immobilized by fright, Miles could only watch as the demon, for that was what he surely was, reached down and clasped his collar. Without effort, the being slowly rose, Miles firmly in hand, until they were far above the streets.
"You are not destined for my Fathers embrace mortal...... yet....", With that, the demon let go. As the wind rushed by, images from his life played out in his mind, as did the hell that certainly awaited him. As he watched the ground rush up to meet him, he prayed to God to forgive him.
Miles groaned as he awoke, squinting his eyes against the harsh sunlight. Looking about, he realized he was still in the alley. As his eyes fell on a wallet laying by his feet, he slowly remembered last nights events. Fingering the wallet, and the drivers license in it, he grew somber. Rising from the floor, he noticed footprints burned into the ground. As his smile grew, he turned and ran in the direction of the address on the license. By the time he hit the street, the smile had turned to carefree laughter.
Miles Jacob had a good life, and it was only getting better.
<<I'll post an actual background once I get completely done with it. This is just an introduction for Ganryusan, my fire/fire blaster. If your on Virtue, look him up. He'll gladly send people to hell with anyone. >>
Miles Jacob had a good life, before the Rikti that is. He sat on the steps in front of Miss Liberty, silently envying the Hero's lives. "Bastards, you've got it so good and none of you seem to care...." Filled with bitterness, he stood up and walked away.
>>
Later that night, he walked the streets of Kings Row, wondering where his next meal would come from. Hearing shouting down an alleyway, he slowly sneaked in that direction. He was greeted by the sight of three dark men in robes, performing a ritual. A ghastly green glow was emanating from the middle of them, encasing what looked like a well to do businessman. Screaming, the man was calling for help. A blur came shooting out of another alley, tearing into the robed figures, a silver clad hero materialized, taunting the evil men as he broke up their circle, and their determination. Fleeing in three different directions, the hero grimaced, chose a target, and shot after him. In the confusion, the businessman was forgotten, as was the case with most so called "rescues". Looking about, Miles slowly crept over to the dieing man. "Help me...", he begged pitifully.
"Help yourself, that's how it is now...", Miles reached down, ruffling through the mans pockets, he took his wallet and ran. He kept up the pace for about five minutes, until he collapsed by a dumpster, sobbing. "Is this truely what I've become? Is their even a point left?" Looking through the wallet with tear stained eyes, he took the cash, threw away the wallet and dropped his head in his hands, sobbing pitifully.
A whistling sound was his only warning as a figure from his nightmares crashed to the ground in front of him.
It stood roughly six foot tall, clad in medieval style armor, buckled leather boots, and a cowl hiding the bottom of his face so that only his blazing red eyes, short red hair, and horns, curving from his temples down and towards the front of his face, as if he was sighting Miles down with them, as if they were piercing his soul. Immobilized by fright, Miles could only watch as the demon, for that was what he surely was, reached down and clasped his collar. Without effort, the being slowly rose, Miles firmly in hand, until they were far above the streets.
"You are not destined for my Fathers embrace mortal...... yet....", With that, the demon let go. As the wind rushed by, images from his life played out in his mind, as did the hell that certainly awaited him. As he watched the ground rush up to meet him, he prayed to God to forgive him.
Miles groaned as he awoke, squinting his eyes against the harsh sunlight. Looking about, he realized he was still in the alley. As his eyes fell on a wallet laying by his feet, he slowly remembered last nights events. Fingering the wallet, and the drivers license in it, he grew somber. Rising from the floor, he noticed footprints burned into the ground. As his smile grew, he turned and ran in the direction of the address on the license. By the time he hit the street, the smile had turned to carefree laughter.
Miles Jacob had a good life, and it was only getting better.
<<I'll post an actual background once I get completely done with it. This is just an introduction for Ganryusan, my fire/fire blaster. If your on Virtue, look him up. He'll gladly send people to hell with anyone.