Post by Matt Donovan on Jan 31, 2012 4:15:17 GMT 1
Playby: Mark Tremonti
Name: Matt Donovan (Metatron the Archangel)
Age: 8,500y / looks thirty-something
Sex: Male
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Species: Archangel
Physical Description:
Tall even amongst the angels, standing at 8'9", he is a figure of willowy grace. His hair is thick and dark, soft and more like fur than hair. His eyes, bleach pale, still hold a gentleness of gaze that denies the darkness they have seen and they see everything. His hands are soft, long fingered and fine boned, revealing nothing of the strength within him. He moves lightly through the world like a dancer and his gentle smile is a balm to the soul. He dresses simply.
Seal of Metatron on left hip:
Attitude:
Metatron did not fall, he did not see the war in heaven, only the rain of death and destruction that harvested the race of man. He says far less than he knows and this has engendered some distrust amongst the other angels stranded on earth by the apocalypse. In his isolation he has begun to experience the first shadows of doubt in Father's will. His compassion for mankind is a limitless font and all that sustains him in his exile from heaven. All suffering wounds him and he endures for the day he will be with Michael once again.
Abilities:
Standard angel abilities:
- Have the strength and speed of 5 men. - Have the ability to heal themselves and others with the exception of the vampire/werewolf curse, and the zombie virus. - Empathy. - Able to sense demons. -Their voices can be used as a weapon or to entertain, if used as a weapon, can shatter glass and thin walls. - Can teleport to a place or person of holiness, a feather, anyone who has consumed angel blood. - Is able to use God's wrath as a weapon in the form of a beam or blast of light. Using this ability drains the Angel completely to the point of passing out. - Angels have a signature weapon lethal against demons.
Metatron's weapon is a Fire-staff, shaped of a branch hewn from the Tree of Knowledge itself.
Standard angel weaknessess:
- Salt: An angel cannot pass a barrier of salt. - Hell forged weapons. - Holy Fire - Death's scythe
History:
Metatron was on earth when heaven went to war. It was His will. He was ashamed that it had taken him all his strength to obey Father and descend once again. It would pain Michael that he had not been beside him when the trumpets sounded, and it tore at his heart that he would be the cause of that pain. But it was His will.
He remembered when he had stood before the Throne as if it were yesterday, his mortality fading into celestial fire as Father had taken away his name and given him a new one. Michael had been beside him then. Michael whose wings had carried him still living into heaven and soothed away his fears. That too had been His will. That was when he had first truly felt Michael's love for him. As a man he had been blind, all angels were love, but even bathed in the light of His presence, still Michael's love shone for him and his own had ignited with a pure joy.
Father had sat him beside the Throne and spoken to him, of many true things, for that was His will. Metatron was diligent in Father's service and kept the great secrets that had been entrusted to Enoch, even from Sandalphon, even from Michael. Metatron had known the time the trumpets would sound for he had written it himself in the archives of heaven. It had been His will. Would he have had the strength to descend had he known there was to be no swift return? To be stranded on earth while Michael lead the armies of heaven? Whilst his brother fought without him? That he could not answer but he knew that earth was where he should be, and so he endured the unendurable separation. Was this His will?
The circle of silent accusing eyes when the others had discovered that there was to be no return had demanded answers of him. He had not known, but such must have been His will. There could be no lies but there was no longer trust. Could even angels lose faith? When the demons came they scattered and death claimed the angels on earth. How could this be His will? Metatron's strength was drawn from the Tree of Life and in his hands, that had penned the lists of dead souls, life was a weapon. He did not greet death and where he walked he spread life and knowledge wherever he could, taking away the pain of men and carrying his own in his heart.
Rule Code Word: 'exalted'
Species Code Word: 'halo'
Rp Sample:
“Hush little one, hush,” Metatron, or Matt as he was going by now, comforted the weeping child. “All shall be well soon.” At his gentle smile the child stopped its sniffling, gazing wide eyed at its tall rescuer. He had carried the child away from the fighting, but he could do nothing for the others, they were all human, there was no right side to choose. He had tried to dissuade them from their self-destruction but it had not availed. He would return when it was over and pick up the pieces, it was disheartening how so many rejected his help until it was too late, only saw the value in life as death's shadow fell upon them.
But now he was sensing something else.... demon. That he could do something about. He lowered the child to the ground, the cuts and scrapes that had marred the waif's flesh vanished as he had held her in his arms. He raised a finger to his lips still smiling, before turning slowly around and walking a short distance whistling softly to himself. All trees were the one tree, The Tree, his ward and his strength. When the demon made its rush the fire-staff was already sweeping its deadly arc in a beautiful pattern of death.
