Michael

"When I'm done, you'll all wish you were still dead."

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Theme: Unlimited Sin - Beast In Black
Fullmoon - Sonata Arctica

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Michael is a skydancer who was created by Abaddon for the sole purpose of bringing about destruction. He serves in Abaddon's forces, much to his own dismay. While spending time in the clan to gather info for Abaddon, he got his wing torn when sparring. Mallory, the other healer of the clan, quickly rushed to his aid and reversed the wound. This was the moment that made him realize he didn't want to serve Abaddon, however, due to the fact Abaddon had created him from the demonic energies of the shade, Michael is bound to him. The fact he's made of the shade also causes him to have violent tendencies, which he tries to control, but has little success. He is able to preform all types of magic, including the destruction of souls, as well as resurrections.

He harbors a deep seated hatred for Abaddon and his forces, and even moreso, himself. The only dragon he fully trusts is Mallory. He doesn't have the heart to tell her the truth about his existence though, out of fear she'll hate him. He also has a demonic true form, given as he is made from shade. When his emotions are heightened, he runs the risk of changing into his true form, especially if the emotions are negative.

Michael uses he/him pronouns and is bisexual.

Alignment: True Neutral, Formerly Chaotic Evil


True Form:

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Credit: MaltedSoda


Credit: DuskGecko


Credit: Werwolf

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Recollecting himself in the shadow realm, Micheal pondered of the events that occurred that day. Had there not be an audience, he would of slaughtered the little cretin that mangled his wing. The thought of the fight began to make his blood boil, the beastly form beneath his disguise, scratched at the surface, ready to be unleashed. But, before his anger could take over, it quickly faded as his thoughts drifted on a certain lithe dragoness. Mallory had intervened the little scruff before it became a bloodshed. He recalled how delicately she had taken his hand in hers and guided him away to the infirmary. A beautiful pink aura drifted from her hands, and masked his ripped wing. It mended painlessly within seconds. Micheal was surprised to see his wing bore no scar. How could such a small, graceful thing like her be such a powerful healer? He had been surprised when she smacked him angrily in the chest, exclaiming how she couldn’t believe he was dumb enough to pick a fight with Akasha. Her angry face... was quite adorable and lacked the animosity he sees often on his creators features. He didn’t quite understand why she’d be angry for fighting the head warrior? His thoughts were apparently said aloud. She shook her head and sighed, “I suppose your new and don’t know much about the dragons here. Akasha’s the head warrior for a reason. She doesn’t take it easy on anyone, even if it’s a spar.” Shaking her head she let out a little embarrassed laugh, “I’m sorry for hitting you, I was worried I’d have to lose another week of sleep healing another victim from Akasha’s wrath. But, I do have to say, you fought rather well against her.” Micheal recoiled at this particular moment of memory, he usually had a clever way with words, but apparently his tongue dried up, all he could muster was his name to her in response. Expecting a quip at his smart way of introductory, She had just smiled at him and gave her name in return, Mallory.

Michael mindlessly touched the wing that had been ripped, wishing there had been a scar for some odd reason, perhaps to recall Mallory when she’s gone. She would die in the end, all of them will be killed. And he would be the one to kill them.

credit: Omalleycat

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The shade ripped through the clan like a pack of feral wolves, hunting mercilessly for anything with a pulse. Behind the shade, their master Abaddon strode, admiring the beautiful ruins of the clan that once sought to thwart him. Michael watched his master helplessly as he stepped thoughtlessly on dismembered dragon carcasses, as if it were a meadow of flowers. Michael could feel his chest constrict painfully, a sensation that has been occurring more often. To escape briefly from this reality, he allowed his mind to drift to a more happier time. A memory of Mal taking him to a meadow. She had approached him shyly, and claimed she needed protection while foraging for herbs. She feared a beast would attack her while she was harvesting. Michael inwardly sighed, if only Mal knew she was inviting said beast to accompany her on her outing. Despite this, he had been secretly delighted, out of all the warriors in the clan, she asked specifically for him. Ever since Mal healed his wing, he has felt himself gravitate towards her. He wanted to know more about her, see what it was like to spend time alone with her. Michael speculated Mal felt the same. Hel couldn’t help but wonder if it this “beast attack” was all a made up ruse Mal had created so she could spend time with him alone. It had been a perfect day too, he had her all to himself for the afternoon. He recalled being mesmerized by how her soft scales glistened in the sun’s rays, and how her delicate claws plucked the greenery. Her intelligent way of speech as Mal passionately point out all the floral and herbs to him, describing their healing or toxicity properties. She had also been kind enough to hold back some of her laughter when he sat on a patch of Sandburs. Wheezing through her fits of cough-laughs she offered to help him pick out the spurs. Red-faced, Michael had furiously denied her the opportunity to touch his behind. Even her humor was gentle, she had laughed with him, and not at him. Though the memory was sweet, it did nothing to console the pain in his chest.

Michael’s thoughts were interrupted by the shrill shrieks from the shade. A flash of magenta magic rained down like hail upon the dark demons, causing the monsters to flinch and draw back from the source. Michael didn’t need to see who the magic belonged to. Panicked, Michael, snapped his head to Abaddon. His master curiously looked for the source, before his master could spot Mal, Michael intercepted by stepping in between the two. “My Lord, let me deal with this nuisance, continue your pursuit of—.” Abaddon stepped around, and continued past him. He discovered the elegant Skydancer and sneered. Abaddon swiveled his head completely around like an owl, making the bones in his neck pop in awkward directions. “Of course you can deal with it Michael, that’s why you were made. However, I wouldn’t mind a little show before going any further.” Abaddon bared his teeth in an unsettling smile. Michael began to tremble, but quickly changed into his true form to avoid questioning of hesitation. He did not know why he is so tentative to kill Mal, she was mortal after all, she would die of old age or disease sooner or later. What difference did it make to hasten her death? Perhaps it was the way she saw him for who he was, not his beast form, but his true being. Yes, he was a monster, but he had feelings and dreams like anyone else, and Mal had taken the time to get to know the real him. Not even Abaddon, his creator, gave him a second glance or considered his feelings. Michael was just a means to an end. And his purpose would soon be fulfilled after the clan’s destruction.

Bowing his monstrous head, Michael let out a bellowing roar, warning the shade to clear away. As the darkness shifted, Mal’s figure emerged from the sea of black shadows. She was hunched over several dead bodies of the shade, holding her bleeding side. She glowered around her, looking for the next attacker. Her enraged eyes finally landing on him, Michael shivered. If looks could kill, he would of been a pile of ash by now. Unsheathing his claws, he charged her fast, trying to make it a swift end for her. She straightened her stance and held her ground viciously. Closing the distance fast, Michael’s antlers made impact with something, but it wasn't Mal. It was a thick brick wall. That hurt. She had teleported his charge to the wall on her right. Smart move Mal. Abaddon shrieked with laughter from his perch on a rooftop. “Keep your eyes open fool, it makes it easier to hit your target!” Snarling, Michael shook the debris from his head. He launched forward and began circling Mal. She smoothly matched his stalking, keeping him in her sights. Both glaring at each other, waiting for the other to strike first. Mal’s narrowed eyes met his own dark ones, but then widened in recognition. No, no, no, please no Mal…“ Michael?” Damn it all. Before a confrontation could happen, Michael took advantage of her distraction, and slammed his gnarled antlers into her already bleeding side, nearly slicing her in half. He pulled his head away, allowing the blood an escape from her damaged side. She lay crumpled and broken, but still breathing. Michael gave her a pained expression. Why won’t she die, I really do not wish her to suffer. Rising on his haunches, he planned to give the final blow, but was stopped by Abaddon who had warped in front of the pair. Smirking, he bent down, his face leered at the gasping Mal. “ Oh you poor creature?” he cooed. Mal weakly glanced at the demon before her. “How tragic! To be betrayed by someone who you thought was a friend!” Abaddon placed his hand on her bleeding side, patting the wound roughly in faux consolation. Mal screamed in agony, causing Michael to twitch aggressively. This did not go unnoticed by his master. Abaddon’s crest flattened, pupils slitted dangerously thin, “Is there something you like to say to you dying friend, Michael? Better yet, care to finish what you started?” Michael was torn, he wanted to shield Mal, but fear of his master’s retaliation halted his short lived revolt. Michael’s silence must have been an answer, because the cruel demon began to speak shortly after. “No?” Abaddon hummed. “Then I suppose I shall take pleasure in killing the coward’s little pet.” He hissed. Michael turned away from them, he couldn’t watch. Even though he did not see, the horrid sounds of Abaddon’s laughter and Mal’s terrible screams was enough of a visual. He could barely hear Mal’s dying breaths, they were inaudible over Abaddon’s cackling. Michael could feel the overwhelming swirl of emotions consuming him. Shade leaking from his eyes, almost appearing as though he were crying. Oh gods the cackling. Why won’t he stop! She’s dead already! Abaddon’s laughter echoed louder and louder, “HAHAHAHAHA HACAW CAW CAAAW.” Caw? Michael’s eyes snapped open, he was nose to nose with the beak of a Death Seeker. Michael snarled viciously at the the large bird, and swiftly smacked it away. It dodged and hopped a little away, still cawing. Michael was shaky and drenched in sweat. He touched his chest, trying to calm his thumping heart. Just a dream? Looking around, he was in the clan’s gardens. Getting up swiftly, he ran towards town. He ran past cheerful dragons meandering about, dragon’s bargaining, dragon’s laughing, alive dragons! There was no shade, no Abaddon, no dead Mal. Relief washed over Michael. The attack hasn’t happened yet! There's still a chance to stop the war. A chance to save Mal. Walking forward in bliss, Michael paused when he felt a bit of wetness near his eyes. Touching a claw to the corner of his eye, he removed a water droplet. How odd? Wiping it on his coat confused, he continued on. The future Michael was causing was less than desirable. He would lose his happiness if he continues on this path, he would lose his Mal. Then it was decided. He would defy his master. He would not look back. He would play Abaddon, be a spy for the clan in secret, and protect them, protect Mal. This would be his new purpose, his choice. Michael would need to head to the sparring quarters. He would need to hone his fighting skills, and improve the other warriors of the clan if they are to stand a chance against the demons. For his and Mal’s future.


Unbeknownst to Michael, the death seeker that startled him awake, watched him from a pillar. It’s brilliant green eye flashing to a dark purple. Raising its wings, it took to the sky. It needed to alert its master of a change in alliance.

Author: OMalleyCat

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Michael sparred with great vigor against the young inexperienced warriors. Teaching them new tricks and having them give it their all when facing him. The ones that showed laziness or hesitation were immediately thrown into the ring with Michael, these attributes needed to be driven out of them for what was to come. There's no time for stalling or cowards on the battlefield. Towards the end of the day the young warriors were left heaving and sweating puddles on the floor, absolutely wiped out. Michael’s enthusiasm for sparring may have been too much for them to bear, as he noticed the quarters were empty when he returned from a short break.

Michael was slightly disappointed, but couldn’t blame them. There is that saying, the Pillar of the World wasn’t built in a day. He would have to train them in small doses, they are young and lack the experience of war and its seriousness. He could easily handle a couple thousand of the shade alone anyhow, he just needed them to stay alive until he could kill Abaddon.... Abaddon, how in the underworld was he to defeat him. He didn’t think this plan far through. He knew many things about his Lord, but nothing about killing him. Thinking of the best ally he could confide in was very limited. There were only two, Mordred and Koujaku. Mordred was not even an option. Unlike he, Mordred relished in the power Abaddon “gifted” him, and was consumed with hatred for revenge. Mordred would just murder Michael if he even mentioned betraying Abaddon. And Koujaku was a possible partner in crime, since he too despised Abaddon...but, he may turn beast on Michael for even being associated with demon.

Groaning Michael threw his hands up in dismay. “Oh, what am I to do!” Michael searched his brain for someone he could talk to. Who would listen to him without judging him? Looking up he realized he was no longer in the warrior yard. In fact he was standing right outside a certain healer’s house. He could see her light was on through the window, Mal was home. Mal would listen. He approached the door, and knocked tentatively, as it was quite late. The little knock budged the door ajar. She probably wouldn’t mind if he just came in? Peeking around, he saw Mal sitting at her desk, with her back to him.

“Hey, Mal…......psst Mal? Helloooo? Mal.”

“MAL!”

Mal’s whole body shook, and several sheets of paper fell to the ground. Mal snapped her head around, staring at him Wide-eyed. Michael scrunched his face meekly.

“What time is it?” She gasped.

He probably should of waited to talk to her tomorrow.
“Uhhh very late.” He remarked.

“Thank the Gods! I thought it was morning. I am supposed to see Phoenix tomorrow, she doesn’t like it when I’m late.” Mal muttered, holding her tired head in her claws.

Realizing who was in her home late at night, she glared at Michael and hissed, “ Why are you in here, and it’s so late! You scared the crud out of me!”

“I am so sorry Mal. It couldn’t wait. I needed to talk with you now.” Gods he hated how weak he sounded, but his worry seemed to soften Mal’s anger. Just slightly

“What happened? Is the clan in danger?” She asked distressed

Michael was taken aback by her question. Does she know? “No. No were not under attack, well not yet.” Shoot! Why did he say that! Michael mentally smacked himself.

Mal rose from her chair abruptly. “Hey!” Michael called to her in alarm. Mal turned to him, put her finger to her mouth, ushering him to stay quiet. Then proceeded towards the windows, shutting them and drawing the curtains, but not without checking out the window briefly. Heading for the door, she shut and dead bolted it. Mal then dimmed the lights and gestured for Michael to take a seat. He watched her nervously, she seemed cautiously calm despite his comment about the clan maybe being attacked.

“I know you need to tell me something, but I need to tell you something first. You can’t repeat this to anyone,” she gazed intently at him.

“I promise.” Michael said without any hesitation. This seemed to be a good enough answer for Mal, for she continued. “I’ve been having...dreams, no, more like nightmares, of the clan being attacked. I thought maybe they were just from stress, but I think they may be visions.” She held up a hand to silence Michael’s guessable follow up question. “let me explain first. For several nights this month, nightmares of the shade’s onslaught on our clan has infested my dreams. There’s a monstrous Mirror amongst them, commanding them to kill everyone. Once everyone is dead, that dragon demon always seems save me for last, and everytime he spots me, he screeches for this one creature in particular. It looks nothing like the shade, it’s huge and very pale with long black horns. Once it’s called we always fight, but no matter what...I never win …” Mal seemed to hesitate, like she wanted to withhold a part of the story. “I never win. But, what confuses me is the look of the creature as I die. It looks at me with such sadness as it gives the final blow.” Mal looked away briefly. Michael was trembling. “I thought they were nothing, except the other day I saw something that might mean these dreams are true. I was walking to the temple to pray to the gods, and I saw Mordred talking to a Death Seeker.” Michael tensed, and death-gripped the chair arm. “The bird didn’t look right. It was bigger than usual, and it’s eyes were purple. I thought maybe Mordred was just messing around and pestering the bird, but then it talked back to him. Michael they uttered such terrible things. They talked about unguarded access into the clan boundaries, plans of poisoning the stronger warriors, slitting the throats of the Lords. Michael…” Mal’s voice dropped low, and Michael held his breath. “Michael...they talked about you.” Michael’s thoughts slowed to nothing. All he could feel was dread. Mal’s tearful eyes met his. “Michael are you working for that monster?” Michael’s heart sank to the floor. “ Michael, please tell me it’s not true.” This was it. He failed. Dragon’s were going to burst through the doors any second and lock him away forever. He was such a fool for thinking this could work. A change in heart was too late for him, and apparently too late for Mal. Michael couldn’t even look at her, he felt ashamed. She was afraid of him. He stood up slowly, and turned away from the dragoness. He didn’t know what to do, kill Mallory or run away? He couldn’t let her live, knowing he could never be apart of her life now. It’s not too late to side with Abaddon again, like nothing ever happened.

“Michael?”

Clenching his fist. He let the shade consume him. His handsome features now coarse and brutish. His form easily taking up the entire room. Mal was pressed far into the corner of the room, avoiding being crushed. Swinging his mighty tail across the room, the strong movement burned out the candles, casting darkness over the room. Michael growled lowly and stalked towards Mal til he was a hair's breadth away from touching her.

“Was this the beast that infested your dreams? Was this the beast that ended your miserable life?” He could see a single tear slide from her big doe-like eyes as she watched him. It Dampened his rage considerably, however, the vicious words still left his maw in frustration towards her reaction.

“That Mirror you saw is my creator. I was forged from the shade itself and made into the perfect servant. I am here to carry out the destruction of your clan.” he confirmed. “I didn’t think a weakling such as yourself would see through my disguise. I was too sloppy, I shouldn’t have let you distract me from my mission. Your redundant prattle of plants, your incessant talk of dreams, your weak feelings for other, bah! I should of killed you the moment I met you. Do elaborate as to how it feels to be betrayed by someone you once called friend” Michael’s onslaught of hurtful remarks tore at his very soul, knowing how much it probably hurt Mal in return. Why she wasn’t lashing out baffled him too. He so much as looked at Mordred, and they were brawling it out in the barracks. But, Mal did nothing, just stare at him with that unfamiliar expression. It wasn’t an angry one, it was a sad one. Her sad expression was not for herself, it was directed towards him. Was she feeling sad for him?

“I DON’T UNDERSTAND!?” Michael roared savagely at her. “Why do you cry for me! The enemy! The betrayer! Attack, scream, throw something, anything but what you are doing”

Michael had slowly backed up towards the door throughout the conversation as he screeched at her. His own expression losing malice and becoming sorrowful and miserable. He backed up until his leg ran into the wall of the house. Looking to her for a retaliation. She crept closer to him. He knew she could possibly kill, he witnessed her aptitude for magic. It still startled him that she was bold enough to come forth and take him on. The closer she got, the further into the wall he pushed, hoping to merge with it. Mal had stopped about an arm’s length away. Too fearful to see what she was going to do, he shut his eyes tight. He could feel shade leaking from his clenched eyes. Instead of pain, something warm touched his face. Jarred, he slightly opened his eyes. Mal was holding the sides of his head gently, as her forehead rested onto his. Michael’s legs gave out. He slumped to the ground, dragging Mal with him. The horrible whirlwind of emotions that had built up since meeting Mal was suddenly unleashed. A loud sob escaping him as he clutched onto his life line. Shade creeping from his eyes, tainting her silken white robes. Mal just hugged him. Humming to Michael softly as she held him close to her heart

Author: OMalleyCat

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