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Azrael Erebus · (02-17-2020)

Brilliant, enigmatic, articulate, affluent and refined. The man that everyone, who was anyone in society; in the terms of the upper class and nobility ratio of the population, sought after. One of the most powerful men in the business world, Maxwell could move mountains with a single word. An entrepreneur, he could be traced to multiple enterprises and corporations, all very lucrative and extremely successful. All giants and pillars of industry. People called him King Midas or the man with the golden touch, everything he invested even the slightest bit of interest towards, instantly ascended to greatness. He was incapable of failure and his fortunes, the fruits of his endeavors were not only plentiful, they were boundless and with that kind of wealth, he essentially became untouchable.

No one could get to him or impose harm, for anyone foolish enough to try would soon find that their aspirations led to realms of unspeakable, horrific tortures, far worse than they could ever conceptualize and not even remotely worth the effort of their attempt. Lamentably and with tremendous sorrow, this would be their final realization in life. Although, it should be noted that death isn't the sole, primary source for shutting off or terminating one's logic and reasoning skills. Plenty of other terrors are quite efficient in rendering that result.

You see, Maxwell Maximus wasn't merely some wealthy, aristocrat and businessman, attending functions, shaking hands and rubbing elbows with the crème de la crème. There was another side to him, that wasn't captured in photos or featured in articles for The New Yorker or Forbes magazine. A side few had the pleasure of witnessing that seemed altogether sinister. From the shadows, he controlled organizations all over the world, affiliations that were guilty of carrying out indescribable horrors and ineffable atrocities. Silent, insidious acts that were committed and covered up, long before there was even the slightest, sliver of a reason to search for evidence attached to their existence. And operations that remained so far out of the perception of sight, the idea of locating them almost mirrored the concept of communing with spirits. With the exception that it was far easier to converse with the dead.

However, the odds were significantly similar to the chances of a crippled man, revoked of all of his senses since birth and left naked and alone, in a vast, endless desert, fending for himself and successfully finding his way back to civilization. No one knew how to search for the secrets because they couldn't comprehend the questions to ask or even begin to imagine the possibilities. Dare to dream as demons might and even then, Maxwell's dark designs, dwell deeper than the most deviant were destined to dig, in order to unearth his master plans. And yet, in spite of all that, nothing could be directly linked to Maxwell, his hands were impeccably spotless and clean, in the eyes of the law. Nary a trace of proof, edgewise nor an ounce of suspicion, defamed his name or reputation.

Highly proficient at effecting and influencing others, when it was deemed necessary or worthy of his time and attention. People were nothing more than pawns, acting out specific parts within a play, of which he wrote the script in explicit detail and then promptly hid it away and kept it in seclusion, for his eyes only. Mercy, guilt and remorse, were not in Maxwell's nature, when needed, one took on the role of a cog in the machine until the usefulness wore off and they were either discarded or replaced, just as easily. Evil incarnate did not justify his description and to call him a sociopath, didn't even begin to scratch the surface. He was as close to the devil manipulating others and pulling strings as one could get, without actually summoning Mephistopheles, himself and there wasn't a soul, immune to his reach or range of devastation. Not even the man that came from the stars...

Saturday, February 1, 2020
The Grand Imperial Hall
Château of The High Council, Ozuul

"What an eloquently spoken speech. What are the odds that my accountant/financial consultant, could be capable of writing an impassioned, magniloquent piece of material of that caliber and manage to deliver it unto his audience with such flair, not I... that's for sure. I for one, am shocked by his masterful performance. Clearly Donovan missed his true calling, his talents seem much better suited for the theater. Then again, Azrael was always the showman, forever on point, never missing a cue on life's grand stage. I suppose this is the proof that the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree."

Not at all amused, Azrael sighs and rolls his eyes.

"What do you want Maxwell?"

"What do I want?!?!"

Maxwell exclaims joyously.

"What do I want?"

Chuckling heartily, Maxwell shakes his head in mock disbelief.

"Well, old friend, I want to..."

All eyes are on Maxwell Maximus, as he saunters to the center of the room, like a maestro ready to conduct the greatest symphony ever written. With a sly, all knowing grin, ever-present on his face the entire way.

"Congratulate you. I mean, you are getting married, after all. Funny. I don't recall receiving any sort of notification or personal piece of correspondence in the post about it. Perhaps it got lost in transport. The mail service is so dreadfully, unreliable these days."

In a dry, matter of fact tone, Azrael quickly replies.

"You weren't invited."

"Not invited!"

Feigning an awe-struck expression of astonishment, Maxwell raises a gloved hand to his face and smacks the side of it.

"Not invited. Balderdash. A right load of codswallop, that's what that is... you invite that grotesque mutant over there."

Maxwell points towards bRiaN sTorM.

"And leave me off the guest list? Me? Your closest friend and confidant?"

"Are you fucking kidding me???"

Azrael asks, laughing out loud in disbelief.

"You're joking, right? You couldn't possibly be so delusional you actually believe that we're friends. You and I. We're not friends and you aren't welcome here."

"Wow. That really hurts. After everything we've gone through together and all that I have sacrificed for you, this is how you treat me?"

"Are you having some sort of psychotic break? Have you finally gone completely off the deep end?"

"If I did, you'd only have yourself to blame. Hmmm... I wonder, have you revealed the truth behind our sordid past? To anyone in this room? Friends? Family? Surely, you must have told your brand new, blushing bride. Then again, what am I saying, of course you didn't tell anyone. Least of all, your wife. Oh but if they only knew..."

A touch of fire accents Azrael's eyes as he rises from his chair.

"You need to leave. Now."

"Leave. Don't be absurd, I'm not going anywhere. At least, not until I've given my gift and what better to bestow, than the beautiful bounty of truth."

Maxwell sighs deeply.

"So much wouldn't exist, right now, if it weren't for me. All the lives that were changed, for the better because of the things that I have done. If it wasn't for the impact or influence of my interference, there wouldn't be a zombie; breaking the stereotype of the lore, living weapons or advance humans. Alright, the first two things, couldn't have taken place without the assistance of another's research, all I did was modify an outline and put up the funding to make it happen. The third option was all me though."

"That freak lightening storm that was supposedly generated when Azrael ascended, the one responsible for altering the dna of sporadic humans around the globe, wherever lightening strikes occurred, thus creating a new breed of human. That happened when I aimed an ionic disrupter canon at the spot where he imploded and it sent a scatter of molecules and atoms, with an electric charge into the troposphere. In other words, I made the storm happen."

"Similar to when the Blackwaters were conceived, with the exception that I shot a concentrated, bioorganic agent into the clouds during a lightening storm, comprised of particles that were left behind from Azrael's ascension. As well as a few other special 'ingredients' I found lying around. Who knew one of them could cause fertility in humans, to the point where they had the capability of becoming inseminated by Azrael or that he'd be in the throes of passion at precisely the same instant, that I conducted my experiment? Certainly not I. It's not like that was part of the experiment or anything."

"To create life."

"Which brings me to my next confession, Rebel Star... you were manufactured in a factory that produced living sex dolls, correct? Guess who owns that factory... nevermind, I'll save you the trouble. That would be me. The Trixie model was my design, I just hired some old Japanese coot to play pretend, stumble around and motivate the other Japanese scientists, little did I know he'd become sentimental when a defect emerged. A million to one, odds. That an anomaly like yourself would climb from a stasis chamber and step forth. I should have played the ponies on the day that I was told you were 'born' and increased my vast fortunes, even more so. Lets face the facts though, you wouldn't even be here if I didn't give the instructions to start mass production."

"What do you want, a thank you?"

"Oh my dear, Rebel Star. That would be wonderful. Yes, I'd absolutely adore a 'thank you' from you but if we're passing those around in appreciation, you might want to send one your husband's way because while I pride myself on being a gifted scientist, I simply cannot take all the credit. Isn't that right, partner? Oh shoot, my bad, Azrael. There I go, spilling the beans that we used to work together."

Shrugs in an overemphasized fashion.

"Meh. Might as well finish the story and fill in the blanks."

Then shoots a wink Azrael's way.

"The weapon program, zombie virus and genetic coding for the Trixie formula, those projects were direct results from Azrael's research. Azrael's ideas spawned the inspiration, while his analysis gave the precise amount of insight to turn a theory into reality. And those were not the only ones. He conceived hundreds of blueprints and equations. Each process coupled with thorough descriptions and custom, easy to follow, step by step, specifications. In his defense, it wasn't entirely his fault, Azrael always told me that he had a bit of a mad scientist complex. I merely gave him the means, encouragement and moral support to release that side of himself and embrace it."

A troubled look enters Azrael's eyes, snuffing the fires out as he glances around the room with growing uncertainty. For a second it seems Azrael, doesn't know what to say, he struggles to find the proper words after Maxwell's unexpected, random revelations and then, Rebel Star keen as always, takes hold of her husband's hand. Almost instantly their eyes meet and she smiles softly. It is a smile of reassurance and forgiveness, telling him that was the past and everything that happened then, didn't matter. What's done is done. This was the present and all that's important is the future, what happens here and now.

"It's true. Every word that Maxwell stated in regards to my involvement is legitimate and valid. I did work with him, in the past, heavy emphasis on the past and then, he crossed a line and I left. I turned my back on him and his operations. Viewed my time working with Maxwell as a mistake, I knew that didn't erase anything but I had no way of knowing who would be effected or to what extent, procedures would be carried out. I'm sorry, I omitted the truth and lied, I understand if this changes things and brings animosity my way, I deserve it. I deserve a lot more than that."

Taking a deep breath, Azrael returns his sights to Maxwell.

"Satisfied? Did you accomplish your goal? Get what you came for?"

"I do believe I did. I set things straight and enlightened the masses, so to speak. Which was decidedly my point."

Pause.

"Either that or I was killing time so this could happen..."

The words register as an immediate warning with Azrael, tragically there is nothing he can do to avoid what happens next. When Zelena - The Darkstar Destroyer, materializes and a sword plunges straight through Azrael from behind.

"Look at you."

"Still trying to get a rise out of me."

"Desperately, I might add."

"Oh this isn't me downplaying the pain or hurt in my heart after losing friends. This is me, not giving a shithead the satisfaction of my sorrow. And that's what you are, Mr. Engineer Exe or as I prefer to call you... Ragamuffin. That name is much more fitting. It mirrors your adorable attempts to be anything beyond a source of amusement. Especially when you fail so often at actually siting anything even remotely true about me. I should have saved Lux, I watched her being carted away and did nothing. Um... I wasn't at Lethal Lottery, dumbfuck. I wasn't even on Earth. My sons were there... you know, the ponderously interchangeable sons of mine. Not to be confused with the Blackwater security team that works for Madison Dyson. Literally the worst Nazi alive. Mind you, not for her heartless cruelty but for her ineptitude at being a Nazi. She's like a caricature of a Nazi, a badly drawn cartoon that somehow came to life, the female Colonel Clink. No self respecting Nazi would operate or exist the way she does, she'd be sentenced to death by all the real Nazis. Why? Well, if you have to ask that... you're simply as pathetic and utterly obtuse as she is. I bet she still avoids peanut butter because she believes an African American created it. Anyway, your confusion doesn't end there."

"You state Dexter Bright is the longest reigning XWF Champion."

Quote:a man who despite having the intelligence of a cheese spread that had been left out overnight is the longest reigning XWF champion in history..

"Then follow it up several moments later with the truth. That I held the TV title for 297 days. Which would make me, the longest reigning XWF champion."

Quote:The longest reigning champion of the modern era with a Television title reign of 297 days

"You know who'd make such a contradiction? Peter Gilmour. What's next, are you going to claim to be an angel and a demon, simultaneously? Seriously, which is it? This is sad, really but it also shows how little you know about me. If that wasn't evident when you mentioned my matches and how they were all themed. Yes, I have fought some crazy battles. Fights that I won. Not all of them were formulated in that fashion though and no, a glass cage match is not something I'd opt for. Whomever came up with that lame fucking idea, needs to stop coming up with matches. A glass cage? Seriously? Not a glass cell, which would make sense but an intricately designed glass cage? I suggested a Tae Pai Death Match. The special needs general managers thought up the glass cage match. I guess they must have a lot of 'in kiosque' credit at a stand in some mall that specializes in blown glass figurines."

"Keep talking like you know me."

"The fact of the matter is this... you know nothing. You're grasping at straws. A part of me wonders if you're also schizophrenic, since you heard me proclaiming that I wouldn't use any powers against you, more than once. Sorry Raggy, that didn't happen. My... my, it's like you can't even try to make sense. Yes, the man who is known for protecting other planets and saving entire populations, he's a coward. You're welcome for all the times you went to bed and woke up the next morning. Alive."

"Oh but you know me... right? You sure do. Please educate me some more, I need a fucking laugh."

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