Forum Thread

When Trickster had casually mentioned going out on Friday night, Enigma had been expecting an interesting night. He was nicknamed Trickster for a reason, after all. The guy was nothing short of crazy.
Enigma did not expect to be running down an abandoned street, dragged along by his best friend, soaked in blood that wasn't his, in pursuit of an overgrown fox.
In hindsight, he should have seen it coming.
Trickster had always been somewhat of a mystery in the realm of the minor gods. One day, he shows up, no rhyme or reason for making an appearance, and joins into the community like he's been part of it for the past thousand years. It's not like anyone complained, though. He was charming, loyal, powerful. No one questioned him, so he just slipped into his role as the neighborhood bad boy and settled in just fine. That was a few hundred years ago.
Of course, Enigma had to become friends with him. Trickster was too much of a mystery, and Enigma enjoyed a good puzzle. It occupied his time, relieved him of his boredom. Yet, for once in his life, he was thwarted at every turn. If he didn't know better, he'd say the Trickster didn't even exist. There wasn't any records of anyone like him in mythology, nor people that worshiped him. It seemed that the bright-eyed annoyance popped out of nowhere.
As soon as Trickster found out what he was doing, it became a sort of game between them. The strangest thing, Enigma thought, was that for such a secretive person, he didn't mind someone trying to figure him out. In fact, he seemed to like it. So, Enigma would search for any traces of the god until his head swam, and ramble off explanations until his throat was dry, but Trickster would only smile and shake his head, even laughing a few times.
It frustrated Enigma, but he grew used to it. Not to mention he became fond of the playful teasing and constant babbling the Trickster was known for. Plus, he was exciting, sparking adrenaline within Enigma that the possibly older god had forgotten about long ago. Every knowing wink, every sly little smile, it made Enigma want more, more of the thrill that hummed through his veins every time Trickster asked him to hang out at a seemingly random place. The kid gave out trouble like a drug, and Enigma was hooked. His mere presence could send a shiver up his spine, just knowing what was to come.

“So, can you help me? It shouldn’t be forever. But I knew you’d want to be a part of this.” She looked at me with an expectant grin. I think my heart skipped a beat, but I couldn’t lie to my best friend.
“Sorry, I can’t.” I knew what would happen next, though.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m your worst enemy.” I said this surprisingly confidently. Like I never wanted to keep this secret in the first place. Like I was proud of being a villain. And quite honestly, I was. She took a moment to process this, but her dilatory response finally came.
“You must be mistaken…”
“No, it’s true. See?” I took my mask out of my pocket. “The rest of my outfit’s back at the base, but…”
“It doesn’t add up. It doesn’t make sense. There’s a clear line between the auras of friends and enemies.” She replied.
“Oh, that. My magic was created for ill intent, so it probably temporarily changes my aura. You of all people should know how unpredictable it is. I couldn’t tell who you were, either, you know. Anger really contorts people’s features, especially in costume.” I looked at her apologetically.
“Well, I can’t fight you, can I?” She sighed. “Let’s just… never speak of this again. Although we can’t really be friends anymore…” I could tell she was averting her eyes.
“I know.” Lightning crashed down from above. This was my doing. It was horrible, but I didn’t care. I had been plotting to subvert her control all along. It didn’t matter if I used cheap tactics. I was the bad guy. The one with perverse intentions and a wish to burn the world.
As I walked away, I couldn’t tell if I was crying or if the water dripping down my cheeks was just rain.

They pulled out black swords and charged towards the four, tiny green eyes glistening with rage. Jordan ducked a swing from one and retaliated with a quick kick to the stomach. As he stumbled backwards, Jordon swung the sword out once more. A purple beam shot from the tip, striking down the monster.

Another grappled onto his back and, in the process of trying to shake it off, accidentally hit Sonja. “Watch it! I’ve got my own to deal with without you!”

“Sorry!” He panted, wincing as claws dug into his lower back and shoulders. He jumped into the air and turned, coming down so that he slammed onto his back. The monster whimpered and loosened its grip enough for Jordan to slash it with the sword. Two more piled onto his front, scratching and biting. One with a sword prepared to plunge it down into Jordan but he twisted around, managing to swing one of the other monsters into him. He came out with a tiny scratch down his cheek.

The remaining monster clung to him viciously, teeth tearing into Jordan’s flesh. He grunted in pain, holding back a scream, and tore it off his now bloody arm. He covered it and kicked away another monster that dove for him off to the side.

Cling!

Jordan turned, startled, as the sound rang right next to his ear. Tom stood in between him and another one, holding back a black sword from Jordan’s head. He kicked it back, sending it flying halfway across the battlefield thanks to the suit’s leggings. “Thanks,” Jordan panted, swinging another monster out of the air with his sword.

“Don’t mention it. I haven’t been attacked once,” He grumbled, going off to help Tucker (who had three latched to his shoulder).

He ducked a lunge from yet another monster and looked around desperately for Dianite, who he had by now figured out was just making more and more. He wasn’t in the sky, surprisingly, and Jordan was about to call out something when weight slammed into him from behind, sending him skidding face-first into the ground. He groaned and looked around, thinking it was just a pack of those little monsters, but there wasn’t a single one to be seen. Tucker and Sonja had been shoved to their feet as well; the only one left standing tall was none other than Tom and the monsters that held them to the ground by means of a sword threatening to pierce their heads at the first sign of movement.

He looked at the three on the ground, then behind him. Dianite formed behind him out of smoke, smiling. “Nicely done.”

“We both know that wasn’t me.”

Dianite looked at him, smile sick and twisted. Tom was unflinching, looking back up at the demon with a hard, unwavering stare. “Well.”

“Well,” He echoed, sheathing the sword he carried with a red tint. “Why haven’t you knocked me down yet.”

“Armor,” Dianite reminded him. “Besides. You’re my Hero. I just need to know why.”

Tom looked at him cautiously. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Dianite wasn’t expecting this, clearly; his expression turned upwards, into one of surprise. “I’ve done nothing but put others in misery this entire year, whether it’s the way you expect me to or not,” Tom went on, voice almost as calm-sounding as Dianite’s. “No mercy, huh?”

He looked Tom over, eyes deep in thought. The smile returned to his face, lips turned upwards into a sneer. “So you say,” Dianite chuckled. “Then, I’ll have to ask you a favor.”

“Hm?”

Dianite’s gaze turned to Jordan. “Kill him.”

Tom’s head whipped over to look at a now horrified Jordan. While he couldn’t see his own reflection, Tom’s reaction might have been enough to give Jordan an idea of what he looked like. “I-”

“You said no mercy. Kill him.”

Tom’s face went completely pale, the blood draining from his cheeks. “Tom-”

“Quiet,” The monster hissed at Sonja, pushing its sword down into her face threateningly. She went quiet, but tears started to well in her eyes. Jordan was sure that he looked rather close to crying, too.

The coliseum had gone silent. No one talked, moved, or even breathed as Tom unsheathed the sword. He gave one last helpless look at Dianite before stepping forward and walking slowly to Jordan.

He could feel his heart beating in his chest and hear it in his ears. The sound of the boots, the constant crunch of the ground below the armor, made Jordan tense even more. Tom looked at him, trying to hide the fact that he was shaking and could barely even keep his sword in his hands. His eyes were speaking, screaming, that he didn’t want to do this. That he had to. Or else, way worse things would happen.

As the two made eye contact, Tom raised his sword, poised to make the killing blow. They held each other’s gaze, though Jordan wanted desperately to tear his eyes away. Tom squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, taking a deep breath before opening them again. Dianite appeared besides the two. “Go on.”

Tom glanced at him but his gaze quickly shifted back to Jordan. He held his sword high and plunged it downwards. Jordan flinched, finally feeling a tear stream down his face, but didn’t feel the impact. He opened his eyes slowly to see the blade only inches from his chest. He let out his breath.

Tom looked just as relieved. “What are you-” Dianite began, but stopped as Tom looked over. “Hm. I see.”

“No mercy.”

“No mercy.”

Tom cracked a smile, much to Jordan’s confusion. “I’m glad you agree,” He brought the sword up again. It was now glowing red--small flames flickered off of it. “That way, you’ll respect me for this-”

He swung around, away from Jordan. The blade struck Dianite in the side and he howled, the impact shining a bright red. He looked up at Tom, snarling, but the light made Jordan squint his eyes and eventually close them. When the light dimmed, Jordan saw for a split second the figure of Dianite turn into a cloud of black smoke that disappeared into the air.

He was dead.

The monsters holding Jordan, Tucker, and Sonja disappeared into smoke as well, and the armor that used to be glowing so brightly red on Tom faded into a silver color. Tom himself stumbled backwards, dropping his sword. He fell to the ground just as Jordan scrambled to his feet.

Out of all the 'Holy Species', Guardians were the lowest of the low.
Sure, they were still treated with respect. By normal creatures. Other Holy Species acted like they were a speck of dirt on their pristine society.
Other Guardians would just take the abuse and shut up like they were always taught to do. After all, it was ingrained in them from the very start to always obey, no matter what. They would probably tear out their own wings if someone told them too. Except for Hiraeth, also known as the 'troublesome one.'
Really, she wasn't that troublesome, people just made it out that way. The right word for her was probably closer to independent or stubborn. Those traits tended to come out at the wrong time, and make her life a million times worse. As if it wasn't bad enough. She was already practically an outcast in her own species, forced to spend the little free time she had alone. For a creature that was supposed to be empathetic and friendly, that was hard.
Hiraeth found a way around it, though. No one's entirely sure how she managed it, but she started spending her time with angels, the most noble and sacred of the Holy Species. To add on, it wasn't just any angels she was hanging out with. It was Sazilee, the youngest but most mysterious, and Lucifer, the Eldest and possibly the oddest. Before long, she'd made friends with many of the, quote on quote, "defective" angels (of course, they didn't call them that to their faces, that would be suicide). Maeline, Michael, Cassirae, even the fierce Eloa soon were on speaking terms with her. The Guardians, and even other Holy Species, were jealous.
Angels were angels, even if said angels were a bit weird. Hell, there were rumors Sazilee had absorbed one of her father's own galaxies. But, there was no doubt Hiraeth had friends in high places. Anyone that messed with her would probably end up with a razor-sharp feathers in their gut.
Until, one by one, all of Hiraeth's angel buddies fell to Earth, and she was left defenseless. Once more, she was alone, and now she was a target. Within weeks, her skin was covered with bruises and scratches. She never retaliated, and instead continued on protecting the creatures she was supposed to, doing her job perfectly. Free time became obsolete to her, and for weeks at a time she would be away, keeping track of more charges than any other Guardian had before.
Then, she simply disappeared into thin air. There and then gone. It was unsettling to many, for a while. But Hiraeth was quickly forgotten amongst the brewing of a war between sibling angels, and she faded from memories until no Holy Species remembered her name.
What they didn't know, is she snapped, and she fell. She threw herself at the Earth, just to be with her friends again.
But her friends had changed, and she was more alone than ever.

They look like barney in color and species..
Yet one has a biger brain,the other fater,the other thinner,the other more muscle,and a pachy like barney