You're The Devil in Disguise [rp vs. The Fallen Angel]
Oct 18, 2016 15:54:55 GMT -5
Post by AshCandor on Oct 18, 2016 15:54:55 GMT -5
Echo sat crossed legged in a field of sunflowers, the breeze causing them to sway as well as blow her hair across her face softly. The soft acoustic treatments of Joni Mitchell wafted from a small portable stereo in the grass beside her. The Indian summer had held onto some nice weather for the peaceful, good natured girl. She drank a bit of wine from a jug, humming along to the music. She brushed her hair back from her face and addressed the camera.
“So I get to encounter a man, yes indeed a man; a man of flesh and bone that carries himself as The Fallen Angel. He’d have you believe he’s a disgraced spirit walking the earth. I wonder, are you really angel or demon; a mislead man of God or the Devil’s plaything? Or maybe it’s all just an act, dude. I look at you and see a man of grand theatrics. Leaning heavily on all black and leather; greasy black hair and lovely overdone makeup on your face. A brooding brash attitude: woe is me but I’ll lash out at everyone else instead of taking care of myself. You’re just an edgy mash-up up of gothic and shock rock; the love child of Alice Cooper and the Cure’s Robert Smith. Equal parts angry and weepy from what I can tell. Whatever color you like, I just don’t care for that scene, man.”
She ran her fingers over the grass and smelled the midday air, enjoying the sun on her face.
“I’m not sure if you think you’re my savior or the tempting serpent whispering to take that apple in the garden. I dig Eden, man. I can leave the apple alone. Further, I don’t need saving or lead down any path whether it’s good or bad. I choose my own path. I don’t aspire to doom and gloom, and I just want to knock back anybody who spouts such agendas. Your propaganda will not stand, dude. Should I be scared of an art school dropout who likes living after midnight and has a presumed affinity for indie comic book films, Doc Marten books, and the grease paint of a clown?”
She shook her head and drew the corners of her mouth up in an exaggerated smile.
“I know there seems to have been a real rash of creepy clown sightings but I never dreamed they would filter into the fabric of 3GW. I suppose it’s true though, Hollywood latches onto every fad going these days. But behind it all, the face paint, the dark clothes, the brooding manner… there is still just a man; a man that seems a little troubled, perhaps uneasy. The Fallen Angel seems to be a man that probably has dubious ideas and plans going on in that peppermint swirl brain of his. He’s got goals that have to do with making examples of others, corrupting people. I wonder if you see me as the innocent sunflower in the breeze? Think I’m just the sweetest little thing drifting through the world? I’m the Peacemaker but I’m no conscientious objector. I don’t jab a flower in the end of a gun and hope that solves the problem. I know it’s not 1967. If you think I won’t fight or I’m a pushover, well then you’ve already lost. I’m not here for theatrics or to wage war between God and the Devil. I was never that big on church in the first place, but I am a spiritual sort. And I don’t dig your aura, man.”
She waved her fingers in the air, as if seeing something unseen by the camera. Then a euphoric grin crossed her lips.
“This isn’t Hell on Earth, dude. This is just the only planet we got and we can do good or we can choose to do bad. When your trench coat drops and I set my guitar down, we will engage in battle; a battle of wills and of strength and skill. You will bring brutality to me, I have no doubt. You will take great joy in making me suffer. All I can do is take it, weather your moody midnight storm. Because after that cold dark rain has fallen, and the moon has drifted behind the clouds…. We’ll see that the sun always comes up and shines after that. And in the light of truth, we will see The Fallen Angel, not as a demon… but as a man washed cleaned of his face paint from his own rain. And yes, he will remain The Fallen Angel because he will have fallen at the feet of the Peacemaker, and will look so peaceful in his slumber like a baby angel. All the spirits will rejoice and it will be groovy.”
[Fade]
“So I get to encounter a man, yes indeed a man; a man of flesh and bone that carries himself as The Fallen Angel. He’d have you believe he’s a disgraced spirit walking the earth. I wonder, are you really angel or demon; a mislead man of God or the Devil’s plaything? Or maybe it’s all just an act, dude. I look at you and see a man of grand theatrics. Leaning heavily on all black and leather; greasy black hair and lovely overdone makeup on your face. A brooding brash attitude: woe is me but I’ll lash out at everyone else instead of taking care of myself. You’re just an edgy mash-up up of gothic and shock rock; the love child of Alice Cooper and the Cure’s Robert Smith. Equal parts angry and weepy from what I can tell. Whatever color you like, I just don’t care for that scene, man.”
She ran her fingers over the grass and smelled the midday air, enjoying the sun on her face.
“I’m not sure if you think you’re my savior or the tempting serpent whispering to take that apple in the garden. I dig Eden, man. I can leave the apple alone. Further, I don’t need saving or lead down any path whether it’s good or bad. I choose my own path. I don’t aspire to doom and gloom, and I just want to knock back anybody who spouts such agendas. Your propaganda will not stand, dude. Should I be scared of an art school dropout who likes living after midnight and has a presumed affinity for indie comic book films, Doc Marten books, and the grease paint of a clown?”
She shook her head and drew the corners of her mouth up in an exaggerated smile.
“I know there seems to have been a real rash of creepy clown sightings but I never dreamed they would filter into the fabric of 3GW. I suppose it’s true though, Hollywood latches onto every fad going these days. But behind it all, the face paint, the dark clothes, the brooding manner… there is still just a man; a man that seems a little troubled, perhaps uneasy. The Fallen Angel seems to be a man that probably has dubious ideas and plans going on in that peppermint swirl brain of his. He’s got goals that have to do with making examples of others, corrupting people. I wonder if you see me as the innocent sunflower in the breeze? Think I’m just the sweetest little thing drifting through the world? I’m the Peacemaker but I’m no conscientious objector. I don’t jab a flower in the end of a gun and hope that solves the problem. I know it’s not 1967. If you think I won’t fight or I’m a pushover, well then you’ve already lost. I’m not here for theatrics or to wage war between God and the Devil. I was never that big on church in the first place, but I am a spiritual sort. And I don’t dig your aura, man.”
She waved her fingers in the air, as if seeing something unseen by the camera. Then a euphoric grin crossed her lips.
“This isn’t Hell on Earth, dude. This is just the only planet we got and we can do good or we can choose to do bad. When your trench coat drops and I set my guitar down, we will engage in battle; a battle of wills and of strength and skill. You will bring brutality to me, I have no doubt. You will take great joy in making me suffer. All I can do is take it, weather your moody midnight storm. Because after that cold dark rain has fallen, and the moon has drifted behind the clouds…. We’ll see that the sun always comes up and shines after that. And in the light of truth, we will see The Fallen Angel, not as a demon… but as a man washed cleaned of his face paint from his own rain. And yes, he will remain The Fallen Angel because he will have fallen at the feet of the Peacemaker, and will look so peaceful in his slumber like a baby angel. All the spirits will rejoice and it will be groovy.”
[Fade]