patient is the night && private

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    lost.


    lost, lost, lost. in every movement, in every thought, in every breath; he was utmost and uncertain for now he held no purpose. without his lord, without his creator, without his truth, without his wings- his wings. phanuel choked against his own breath, as he slowly craned graceful neck to once more peer at his crimson stained back. they were gone, tattered, horrendous appearing stubs of torn flesh and tattered feather where grave beauty once bestowed. and it seemed even though it had been a few days since his falling, he still didn't believe it to be true. because he wasn't perfect anymore. the fact caused great nausea, a feeling which he'd never once never experienced, to befall the once angel alongside rivers of sorrow continued flowing down perfect cheeks. what a fool he was, what a fool. why did he weep? phanuel knew it was his fault, knew he deserved it. but understanding something did not cause it to hurt any less.


    it was deep within night as the haunting creature's pelt of purist ivory glowed ever so gently within the trickling moonlight. he walked upon uncertain paws as gaze of a blue which was not mortally possible became clouded within confliction. phanuel was entirely new to the mortal plane, the ideas of clan had yet to become known to him aside from that of the place which he'd found himself within in his great need that so graciously took him in- the exiles. that was the name of it, and as the thought once more crossed shattered mind a broken smile of twisted humor cross patin lips. one couldn't deny his god carried a grand sense of humor. a painful sense of humor.


    and so when he'd found sleep an odd pehnomna he was unused to requiring and dreams of horrid nature haunted his already torn mind, phanuel had decided upon himself to wander the world which he'd been forced to inhabit. it, of course, was in no means comparable to place in which he'd been forged from and at first phanuel had found nothing but distaste for it but as he wandered aimlessly about in the guise of night where stars peaked through ever so warmly, he decided it could be beautiful if it so chose to be. before long, however, the scents which once overwhelmed him shifted entirely as phanuel became ever more curious as to why. perhaps there were other groups within the mortal's world? after all, for a place of exiles to be created one needed to have other groups to not belong too in the first place.


    however, the thought came far too late as he was deep within this place, of no concept of borders standing within the middle of some form of camp under the guise of night in sadness and solitude. the creature forged from the gates of ivory promises and a blue which rivaled mortal skys came forth with agony in each paw step, and amongst his overwheelmed, dismay something caught his etheral eye. a corspe. phanuel was cautious at first, gaze lined in broken trust and unsurity, but as he came closer a frown polluted haunting features. the being seemed to have died from starvation; ribs showing and dying with eyes wide open. perhaps it had been deserved, perhaps it had not; but either way phanuel's gaze softened as he managed to do what he was forged from heaven's clouds to be. he dipped his graceful head, pale eyelashes brushing against ivory fur as he closed stunning eyes in respect. and thus beneath the gentle moonlight a creature stained crimson prayed over a corpse to a savior that had damned him.


    TAGS ? ? ? — Angels were not something that Jaelynn was against, but not something she was fond of either. Rather, the woman had had a rather difficult life in her young years that had ultimately made her the untrusting and cold person that she was to the day. The murder in her past, the way in which she had struggled through every aspect of her damned teenage years had been enough to turn the young royal into chaos, and into an individual whom many feared yet admired. She had been known as a kind soul if a little shy before her powers had emerged, and she had been known for the dark chestnut hair that she had sported.


    But in time, that had changed when she had seen the charred remains of her baby girl, a beautiful little pup with the eyes of a saint. She had died and just as quickly, Jaelynn had grown cold and icy, rigid in all but those whom she felt the closest to. In her days as Queen in her old kingdom, however, those such close people were very rare. After suffering of a broken heart, the Mallister woman had placed walls up around herself that allowed for nothing to pass through, from her side or from the other. She did not want to risk getting hurt again in fear that she would shatter. And to some, in her time spent in her old kingdom, some people would think as such. For after that day, the beauty had seen her fur change to a blazing white, wings of solid ice spouting from her back. She had new rumours around her, then. Rumours that she was a witch, and that she would curse any man that would come near her.


    So, it was no surprise that when the figure caught sight of an individual in a praying position, her first thought was disgust. Why? Why waste time praying to a void god? HE had not been there to save her daughter, he had not been there to care for her parents, and he had not been there to watch over the tiny pup that had come upon the border not too long ago ago that she and Alfeynnah had seemingly adopted. However, as much as she saw little value to the very act of praying, the woman was also curious, and an individual who did not fancy judging others for their beliefs. SHe herself had rather controversial views on her own ambition, after all, so she figured she should be not so much a hypocrite.


    Curiosity winning over, the ivory canine would come down from the skies, her shadow flickering over the praying form for a moment before she settled onto the ground, hardly a sound safe for the gentle whisk of her wings through the air. Wings of grand ice, sheer and sharp, magical in their property to never melt. Hues of spiralling blue throughout. At a glance, perhaps the fallen angel would think the Lady an arch-angel, grand and regal in her appearance, snow-white fur groomed against her lean, delicate frame. Her wings would float up a moment before they floated softly down to her sides, tips dragging across the ground as she stepped, leaving a trail of frost in their wake. A necklace of ice and sea-glass hung around her ivory neck, her blue eyes appearing to be made of the very same substance. She was a dangerous kind of beautiful, and her personality was no different, whether he would think her an angel or not.


    "I see faith has led you to Westeros then, hasn't it?"


    [ooc: thanks for making!! <3]

    beautiful. it was perhaps the sole trait in which the two beings of ivory and ice shared. for none could deny phanuel was a being of utter ethereal endearment. angels were perfect creatures, forged from the glistening gates of heaven and the unbelievable breathtaking nature of it's threshold in the image of their savior. he was perfect in every form in idea, features finally chiseled like that of an artistic stone statue's in a perpetual state of sorrow with a form of purist porcelain and gaze putting earth's pleasant skies to shame with it's sheer hypnotic nature. and once, he'd had sprawling wings of gold lined feathers. but this shared loveliness of utter haunting nature was the last of phanuel and the westerosi's similarities.


    for his life had not been that of pain and sorrow, but rather of fulfillment as one of the various extensions of his lord's guiding hand. he had fought valiant battles with halo forged from gold and sword of heaven glistening with power. mortal's tones had quaked in utter awe of the angel who had once stepped forth with proud head held hide and justice in mind. at him, phanuel, the being made from stardust and golden tinted clouds, the angel of hope and repentance.


    he had been but a tool, but that's what phanuel had been created for, what he was content with- bringing light to the world and pushing back the darkness which threatened it. even still, many gazes had been sent his way for he'd always been an odd sort of angel. but then, it had happened. his mistake. his damnation. oh how he'd deserved to be kicked from his savior's kingdom, and how it utterly ate him from the soul outwards. his gorgeous wings had been stripped into tattered, crimson stained horrors and he'd been spliced through the air, discarded like a broken toy. because that's what he was, a broken toy who had no use. and so now he was utterly lost. lost amongst the mortals, lost in purpose as he clung to a god who did not want him. clung to the sole thing he knew.


    indeed, as jaelynn approached the creature's gaze became fixed upon the other in awe and for but a split moment he would have believed her to be another angel as she too faintly glowed within the star light. however, he'd been an arch-angel himself, and her unfamiliar, lovely face gave her away if not for the next words she spoke. westeros? phanuel offered the other a smile- a horrendously fake affair that seemed to hurt to muster upon parsley lips. "Westeros? So there are more groups?," phanuel began, half speaking to himself as he awaited the other to confirm, "I supposed I should have thought as much." he did seem out of place, and the tattered, bloodied feathers which marred his back were defiantly questionable. "I apologize if I'm trespassing, I'm still...new to things," he didn't know how to phrase it. after all, it's not like he could lie. but then a greater softness took darling features. "You speak as if faith were a foreign word," he returned, seemingly saddened by the fact before glancing back to dead creature between them. so many mortals had strayed from the path. then again, so had he.


    //no problem!!

    TAGS ? ? ? — If Jaelynn had hear his thoughts, his purpose in the cruel world, she likely would have made a comment along the lines of where were you? For it was very true. Where had the guardians angels her mother had promised her been in her time of need? Whatever the case, the woman had not put much thought into angels, though she found herself considering them as she gazed upon the stranger. He was a stunning creature, sure enough, but the woman did not care much for a pretty face if it could not be backed up by more... substance. But alas, perhaps this individual would prove a valuable conversation partner. After all, it had already been an... interesting chain of events leading to their meeting.


    His smile was nothing odd to Jaelynn, for she could not so easily be tricked by the subtle nuances that she herself often used to fool others of her current mood. "There is no need for masks." the queenly beast would rumble, prowling closer, though not in a particularly menacing way. "No apology is needed either. You ooze confusion. You have not been around these lands at all, have you?" the woman would question, for she too had been in a similar place once upon a time. Not to the same extent, but the woman had been from a distant kingdom herself. Westeros had been full of new customs and new ways, but Jaelynn had quickly fallen into it with ease. It had held enough differences form her new home to keep her interested, keep her invested in the new home that she planned to someday rule. Not everybody understood her ambition, but one day, the wolf hoped, they would be living it.


    At his statement, the tall figure would hold her tongue in way of the laughter that threatened to bubble to her lips. Faith. Faith had gotten her nowhere in the world, but her powers had. They had not been a blessing, no, but a curse that Jaelynn had turned into something further. "Not foreign; simply dangerous." the Lady noted after a moment. And indeed, faith held a dangerous hand sometimes. She had placed her faith in people before, and they had betrayed her. In many ways, Jaelynn was a fallen angel herself. She had been faithful once, and had fallen and lost her faith in humanity as a whole when it had happened.


    As her gaze followed his own, Jaelynn would remain emotionless, her features porcelain and polished to the perfect of what a "lady" should be. "A poor soul, yes, but one that should have thought before thieving." the Mallister would remark. He had attempted to steal from her son and thus, he had been cast from Seagard. She had not starved the poor fellow, she had not banned him from Westeros, and thus she saw the deceased corpse as simple inadequate of Westeros. Returning tortured blue eyes to the angel, she would pause a moment, examining. "But you. What caused you to wander into not only Westeros, but specifically my hold. I have no qualms if you have come to wander, but I must question for the sake of my city of Seagard. To start with, your name, perhaps? Or shall I call you saint?"

    where were you? and thus came the flaw. the flaw to his savior's plan which phanuel had been the sole angel to look upon with quirked brow before being abruptly punished to keep silent. for the former angel had been created to believe that the lord he served held a grand plan of mastery, that all occurred for a reason and most creatures would not be where they were now within life if they lacked the travesties that shaped them. but then, one had to think of the others. like the child with royal eyes jaelynn had birthed which had been murdered cruelly- did she not deserve life or to shape the world around her? it was an odd system indeed, whom he was tasked to look after, to guard but phanuel had been forged to take orders with grace and pride. and then he looked to this mortal before him, the epitome was beauty and regal nature and couldn't help but wonder.


    what happened?


    for not so long ago, he too walked forth with grace and regal paw as if a path of amber had been bestowed to walk across with confident pas and head held ever high. and now he stood with broken figure and tattered mind, lovely head now low and once wings tattered. had the mortal world truly drained him so completely? jaelynn was one he knew straight away had held hardship, it was the look within her stunning hues of ice which gave this fact away the angel. ever-guarded and hiding vulnerability. yet she managed to retain strong stance and defiant eyes and phanuel could feel nothing but envy. masks?


    phanuel gave a laugh that suggested his heart was breaking. "What if masks are all I've ever known?," phanuel inquired, curious to the other's response. but her next statement gave way to embarrassment. "It's that horribly obvious is it?," phanuel noted wistfully, blue gaze focused upon the stars and mind thinking of the plane beyond it. "No, I'm afraid I'm a far ways from home," there was an odd beauty in his melancholy. then she continued on to speak of faith, something which cleary caught the haunting being's attention. "I've yet to hear someone say something so true," phanuel agreed. faith was dangerous, something that could be use ever so easily for wrong or good. it could utterly devastate a creature in mind and soul, after all, phanuel was a prime example.


    it would seem the now deceased had been a thief, causing distaste to come upon delicate features. thievery was within the ten commandments, so phanuel swiftly found the other deserved swift death. "Agreed," he stated this very coldly, something that was shocking considering his first demeanor had been much kinder and soft. but angels were not soft. people, mortals believed so, but it was far from the truth. they were the swords of heaven, and swords looked graceful as they danced but cut deeply into flesh with prescion and glinted with metallic cruelty. "Your hold? So is there more of these- kingdoms in one group?," phanuel was incredibly curious at the notion. he scoffed at the comment of saint. phanuel had met many who'd been sainted amongst his life, most didn't deserve and one had been but a poor child forced with the title. and he most certainly was not worthy of it. "Sinner may be more adept," phanuel returned with the same form of broken smile. he then hesitated to give his name. for names held grand power, and to offer it froward unscathingly was often a foolish act. but phanuel had a feeling that this being before him wouldn't cause him noticeable harm. "I am called Phanuel," he returned graciously, bowing in respect, "And you are, my lady?"


    TAGS ✦ ✧ ✦ — His statement earned the slightest of smiles from Jaelynn, who found such a thing amusing. Ah, yes, masks. She knew them well and they knew her, for they were what the Mallister woman had somewhat shaped her life around. For years they had managed to keep her from heartbreak and from strife, and they would continue to do so for many years to come, if she could possibly help it. Ezekiel was the only one whom had managed to break through her masks, as well as her children, but other than those few individuals the woman did not like to entertain the idea of letting anybody get past the icy vale that she had created.


    "It is not terrible, I am simply seasoned in my own use of a fake smile." the Mallister woman would note, pleased. And indeed, no matter what, the womana could pick that out, even if nothing else when meeting a new individual. So, she was not surprised that this fellow had decided to use a mask, but rather, for surprised that he had not been embarrassed so as to admit it. Jaelynn herself was sturdy in her own masks, though once upon a time she had been in the same place. She had been called out on her lies and on her attempts to hide her emotions, but in time that had all changed. However, this did leave the woman to understand Phanuel's predicament. He was new here, as he soon solidified with her words. How far he was from, Jaelynn had no idea. But for now she held her tongue, figuring she should figure out his name before questioning the location of this individuals' origin.


    Seeing as Jaelynn had just seen the fellow praying, the ivory wolf was somewhat surprised to hear is agreement to her statement. A considerate one, it seemed. That was good, considering that Jaelynn had little time for people whom were to devolved in.... well, whatever they so dearly held faith in. It appeared that in even one way the two were somewhat a kin in their beliefs. As she observed his gaze following her own, she would grow even further pleased. She did not know this individual, but at least he understood justice, or rather, whatever justice the lady figured it to be.


    Sinner


    Hmm. For what an angelic looking creature, he hardly seemed a sinner. Of course, the woman figured that with their appearance being similar, she too often played against what many thought she should be like. Phanuel. A curious name, though one that not altogether unncommon, in mind of the woman. She had not heard it before, but it's type was one that she had indeed heard here and there. They were names often held by a similar type of person, though the woman did not much care to stereotype. "Lady Jaelynn Mallister." the figure introduced, a small dip of her head to follow. "If you don't mind me asking, where are you from exactly?"

    masks. they were such intricate affairs and one which he was entriely new too. the aforementioned comment had more so been for conversation than truth. for unlike jaelynn, the ethereal being's life was always ruled by the genuine nature of his being. for he was one forged from the purist of white and the most glimmering of amber; a being who was pure in all form and way. yet, now he stood here holding a fake smile with another who was more so well trained than himself in the matter. oh how far he'd fallen. and he wondered, looking to the beauty that was the lady mallister as she gently glow within the cascading moonlight, what had caused her to enact in such a life. nothing good, he knew.


    "I would say drop yours and I'd do the same with mine," phanuel responded, tone of a lullaby trembling as he continued forth, "But I believe I'd cry if I were to reveal myself." he stifled a laugh, the form of chuckle one gave when their heart had been shattered. he was so utterly foolish and damnable. he was going to have to become better, better as self control. but first he had to accept the fate which had befallen him; which was a feat within itself.


    justice was something the angel had known. no, no, it was something he knew. for though he was cast from the world of beauty and grace he would indeed carry out the work which he'd been forged to perform. it was ironic, in this fact, that'd he found himself amongst a group of murderers and thieves. yet he was now just as horrendous, was he not? phanuel was indeed a name of famialirty, as it was within the bible and so many named their children the name his god had dealt him first; a fact that indeed had caused him frustration more so than honor. but mortals would be mortal, and their was nothing he could do about that.


    then she wanted to know where he was from.


    phanuel became frozen for a moment, hesitant as he gazed towards the sky but seemingly focused upon something beyond the stars. he didn't wish to tell her the truth, but he didn't lie. no, he couldn't lie. nor could his curse. it was apart of his being, these inabilities, so he'd have to be cryptic. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he noted, amusement lining gentle tone, "But it's far, far away. It was beautiful place, unlike any you've ever seen before." he was longing, feeling the heart so tarnished break for the home he could never return too.


    [ sorry i'm so late, rip ]