DAEMON KING.

all the evils of the world, the daemon king, the original and oldest avenger.

a heroic spirit who watches and laughs at the wickedness of mankind for all eternity, sustained by their sins and their prayers.

he’s a demon of mankind’s own making, not a god. angra is a reflection of the evils of humanity, who are all sinners in some way.

as such, he is just as human as they are. an ordinary person who in life was chosen to be a sacrifice.

a completely unassuming boy forced to endure a lifetime of torture because by chance, his village picked him to play the role of a ‘devil’, the source of their misfortune.

as a result, when summoned, he is a weak servant. the weakest, in fact. at least when it comes to fighting other servants.

angra mainyu was never a hero with a gallant legend, nor did he ever achieve any great feats in battle. his only heroic accomplishment was offering unintended salvation to those who worshiped and hated him by shouldering all the evil they did not want to admit existed within them.

as such, he embodies hatred. he is fueled by it. 

whatever his true name was, it has long been torn from the pages of fate.

        ❝   This is so boring…   ❞   

             THWACK. 

             Another animated marshmallow struck down in its prime, right in the middle of an impressive leap to what it thought was safety. At this point, Shiki didn’t even really need to move. The stupid bastards just kept coming her way. And she, for one, had plenty of skewers to use as throwing weapons. It took a little getting used to the difference in weight, but compared to a regular knife, they weren’t so bad. 

        ❝   And it’s still the most exciting thing I’ve done all month. … Tch— Damn. I don’t even like sweets.   ❞  She’s eaten her way through six skewers so far.

@ordertorn​ : WINTERFES.

❝   if you don’t plan on eating, i’ll help out. if you’re willin’ to toss one, that is.   ❞  

from his place on a branch, angra throws his own skewer and watches a marshmallow plummet to its doom. he had been too lazy to go pick up the sickeningly sweet spoils of war thus far, content to dangle his legs and watch the carnage from afar, but it was starting to get a little dull. could this even be called carnage? there was a distinct lack of bloodshed, for one   -   he didn’t think these marshmallows could feel anything. they just sort of toppled over, motionless and silent   -   it took the thrill right out of it all.   ❝   sounds like you’ve been keepin’ out of trouble, lady. but there’s plenty of fun to be had here, if you look in the right places .   ❞   

Loathe the festivities. Loathe the carols, and the endless sweets, and the immense cheer that seem to pervade everything. But above all else, loathe the swathes of snow that falls in eternal torrents across the accursed island, blanketing everything in white. To say he was having a time would be an understatement. It’s certainly not a good time like a high percentage of others, indulging in their winter wonderland dreams. No, no, the complete opposite!

Loathe it, curse it, crush it; remove the head of one of those hapless snowmen, curse it some more. Down, down, down spirals his thoughts on the entire holiday ( and the island, and it’s inhabitants ) until they, too, come crashing down. Not with something resounding, but the sound of something smacking him firm on the back of the head; followed by the pervasive cold that he’s come to know all too well from the weather.

“NNNN. Snow, snow, of all things, snow. To attack this humble priest in such a manner. How unkind of you, Avenger!”

@ordertorn​

as the embodiment of evil, the culmination of curses, dealing with the all-consuming merriment  running rampant across the city had put angra in a mood less than jolly. sins were his sustenance, the fuel he thrived on, and yet the citizens of the city were only speaking of goodwill and charity, exchanging gifts and singing carols. how tragic. how utterly boring.

needless to say, the avenger hadn’t been able to find any delicious negativity to leech in quite a while. at least, not until a familiar figure wanders past, brimming with nothing but contempt and who otherwise remained unaware of the servant thrown lazily in a pile of snow   (   how odd to see them so expressive   —   usually, they were so good at hiding their true face   ).   it makes the alter ego the perfect target, really.   ❝   ahh, y’think so? but ain’t that to be expected from me? i’ve a reputation to uphold.   ❞

❝   you should dip your feet in. it’s totally worth it.   ❞

is what the avenger had said to the newly arrived red-haired boy, a smile on his face   (   although shrouded by his shadowy form   —   it’s the thought that counts, right   ?   ).  it was an odd sight, he imagines, to see a boy with his feet in a pool of water in the middle of winter. but, the magma flow had made it so that the small ponds scattered across the city of glass were practically onsen now, or so the vendors had shouted, and angra had availed of the opportunity without hesitation.

he he hadn’t hesitated to call a stranger to join him in sitting by the edge of one such pool either  —   one who had actually been willing to indulge the vendors and buy a hot chocolate. a sweet tooth? or perhaps he was just freezing. either way, his face was turning a pretty marvellous shade of red now that his feet had joined angra's own. what a sucker.

     “ Yes– yes, I understand. I’m deeply sorry for all the trouble he has caused. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

now, one would be wondering why Ritsuka Fujimaru was at the police sation at two in the morning, apologizing to a very tired and disgruntled officer. well, the reason had to do with the Servant she was currently dragging out of the station by the hand. one last bow is given before she exits the building and that is when the apologetic smile is traded in for annoyance.  

      “ Here, I don’t make it a habit to tell the Servants what to do. They can live their lives how they want. I see no reason that they can’t! It’s what they deserve after helping me and there’s nothing wrong with that!”

  this is where she pauses, turning to fix a glare at the Avenger.  “ But when I get a call from the police at two in the morning because you’re skateboarding down a street with boombox, blaring christmas-themed sirens, then we have a problem! ”

@ordertorn​ – winterfes starter call.

police stations sure were boring. 

the walls were dull, devoid of any color, and the men and women working had no personality. they did not entertain his quips or his jokes   —   in fact, they were ignoring him. rude. it was two in the morning, sure, but since being summoned, angra mainyu had found himself to be a night owl. just because other people preferred the daytime was no fault of his, and accordingly, the servant did not appreciate being hauled here against his will. the officer who had pulled him over had said something about being a disturbance and that he’d need to contact a guardian   (   what, like he was a child   ?   ).   it had taken every ounce of self-control for angra not to kill the man and carry on with his antics. 

but that probably would have made even more officers involve themselves, and avenger really didn’t have the patience for that. his master should be grateful.

christmas festivities had never been his thing. 

beyond the odd event he found himself crashing   (   usually against his will thanks to his master’s involvement   ),   angra had never felt a connection to the holiday. the birth of christ meant little to a being whose existence preceded that of the son of god’s, and the act of goodwill was really only an occasional cause of heartburn in his mind. certainly, his faith also had holidays around this time of year    —   the winter solstice was coming up, as was zartosht no-diso   —   but it wasn’t as if he cared to actually celebrate those. 

in fact, he imagined the deities would smite him if he did. 

still, angra can understand how pleasure can be found in some of the stranger events held for these holidays   —   contrary to popular belief, he isn’t a heartless being. evil, absolutely, but not heartless. in fact, when the ghost brat he had made the acquaintance of a few days prior had mentioned free food, and the chance to be overly critical of it at that, angra had jumped to participate. it was only now that he could see why the boy had been so eager.     

it wasn’t often that the avenger left the ward he lived in   —   that was way too much trouble. still, when the christmas choirs started busting out the tunes, he knew it was time to make himself scare   (   at least, until they learned some new material   ).   which is how he ended up here of all places, a glen connected to both the past and future   (   or so they claimed   ).   people came and went, either looking for answers or apologizing to what he could only assume were younger reflections of themselves, as he all the while observed quietly from the shadows, his face resting on his hand. honestly, angra had just followed the trail of negative emotions, eager to recover from the hymn-induced migraine. now, he was just curious to see what would happen next.

though, this new arrival holds herself quite a bit differently from the rest of the moping folks who had come before her. hell, she probably didn’t even know where this was    —  it wasn’t like they were advertising this place. she did, however, notice him right away. her sharp gaze makes him jump, startled, before he let out a laugh.

@ordertorn​​ starter call

he has never seen this amount of restaurants before, in fact it made it all the more difficult to choose. there is one restaurant however that stands out to him, the scent reminding him of home, of a better time. movement coming to a halt he looks at the menu and at the prices, though he can afford it, he rather not to since he may need it for something else. yet his stomach growls in protest at the thought and he is left wondering if he can make a deal and work for the owner as a guard of sorts in exchange for a meal.

though those thoughts are cut short when he hears the doors opening and witnesses how two guards toss a man back onto the streets. he would have ignored him if he could but considering they practically dropped him in front of his feet. 

❝    banned for life? just what on earth did you do ?  ❞  

to be tossed out of a restaurant   —   that’s new. 

he wonders for a moment if he should feel guilty, or even embarrassed   (   he’s sure that is what the owners were hoping for in making an example of him so publicly   ),   but the avenger quickly concludes he feels neither. not an ounce of shame stains his heart and so, he stands, expression unbothered. truthfully, if he were to feel anything in this moment, it would be irritation. he wasn’t able to finish his food. what a waste.   ❝   i’m guessing they didn’t appreciate my form of payment?   ❞   which was ridiculous. angra couldn’t understand how they valued this dust nonsense over the promise of granting them a wish   (   sure, the wish would be pending the return of his strength, but it was a wish nonetheless   !   ).