Posts by .SANGUINE RUINS

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.

phanuel was so tense one would think his muscles would become numb from the strain being placed upon them. for the beings who surrounded him as he became drawn to the the perfume of death which had been carried within an autumn breeze held evil within their souls. the majority, save one, held a darkness that was nearly nauseating to the angel. no, the once angel. he was remained by he pain coursing through his porcelain form and the crimson stained, tattered feathers which marred his back of this fact swiftly as he made an attempt to flap wings which did not exist out of frustration. at the attempt, his body flinched. at the reminder, his heart weeped.

the porcelain creature walked forth with hesitance, gaze of breathtaking blue soft at the dead creature and being tense at the utter evil which surrounded him. but he wasn't any better was he? no, no, it was still all his fault. at the body, phanuel dipped his head in prayer as others feasted at flesh words soft and muttered before an semi-audiable amen was heard through breathless whisper. the once angel then stood straight, allowing gaze of breathtaking blue to focus upon ornis. "What happened?," he inquired tone soft and edged with curiosity. who knows, this creature could have very well deserved it.

so phanuel was just recently cast out from heaven and ended up within the exiles and i was thinking maybe these two could be friends? f they become close than phanuel will be very intent on protecting her/acting out on her will as that's, quite frankly, what he was created to do and be. plus it'd be interesting seeing as he's currently still relatively gentle and kind natured for their two's relationship.

maybe they could have a late night, deep meaningful disccusion and go over there grievances and duchess could go to kiss him in thoughts of maybe controlling him and then he could be like "wut" and be really confused considering he has like, no clue, what romance is for their first thread? i think that'd be adorable and fun to play out. XD

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!!

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?"

it was utterly ironic, in every twisted sense of the word, these two beings' situations. for phanuel too had been deprived and disgraced. gracious wings of purist white torn away to leave tattered feather and crimson imperfection, the once angel had been cast out of the home of heaven's gates and gentle promises from which he'd been forged. upon the night of his damnation, he'd come forth into the exiles frightened and lost in every utter since of the word. but his case of similarities with the femme ended there. for he felt no need for revenge, no, but solely that of regret. guilt tinged the kindness of his gentle soul for he knew he'd been rightfully struck down, and he urged for nothing more than to prove himself worthy to the savior which damned him.

phanuel had been wandering aimlessly, as he so often did, when the scent of blood carried upon the autumn breeze causing the etheral creature to come forth with suspicion upon lovely features as he carried forward to look upon a scene of crimson and angst where sloane sat within the middle. firm gaze of impossibly deep blue came from firm to soft as he gazed to the other's being. she was covered in rage and her unseeing gaze was vicious and hungry and lined with hurt. "You have the eyes of a demon," phanuel noted, sorrow in his lullaby of a tone, "Yet you've a mortal heart." he wondered what had happened to the other, deciding off handedly to pray for her the next time it crossed his mind.

phanuel held a very black and white view of what was correct and what was wrong within the world, something which was instilled within all angels- fallen or not. the ethereal creature of purist white and eyes so blue he mortal sky was put to utter shame stepped forth alongside athena, gaze set upon the injured creature with grand empathy and firm just sense within shattered mind. even still, he didn't appear as regal and knowing as he once had, when wings had been lovely and grand rather than that of tattered, crimson imperfections. no, he stood with an odd, frightened form of disposition one would suspect a lost child to posses.

"Athena," phanuel began, tone like that of a lullaby, "He's not done anything to prove himself unworthy of kindness." but if this greyfell were to prove himself harmful or the like within his stay, than god help the bastard if the once angel were to come across him. "Here, I can help prop you up if you so need," phanuel offered a smile- the form of horribly fake affair that hurt to be mustered forth in his aid towards the other.

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 ]

phanuel was beautiful as he fell.

ivory fur whipped wildly in the velocity induced wind as his paws reached outwards, appearing as a porcelain figure that was carelessly dropped by a child; delicate and lovely but accepting of its fate. out of habit, Phanuel found his back muscles tensing; the familiar feeling of attempting to flap his wings was shattered by the fact he had in their place two stubs of tattered feathers and open flesh on each shoulder blade. as a stark pain surged from the marrow of his bones outwards causing momentarily the of cease breathing; but phanuel knew he deserved it. and after what seemed like that of an eternity of soaring through an ebony enveloped night sky as silent stars looked down upon him in judgment, he finally hit. a sickening crack was made upon impact and the pain made the previous bought of soreness from attempting to fly with tattered wings feel like a prick from a thorn. phanuel did not yell, but rather squirmed in the agony as he felt his body scream in protest.

he was trembling, trembling with such fersciousty as tears formed within eyes bluer than mortally possible that appeared like stardust lining his gaze. lord, what had he done? what had he done? it was as if his body was dying all around him, immortality drained away in place of fierce crimson staining lovely pelt of once purist white. everything bore into his tarnished heart with such ferocity, burned within his soul like the hellish flames of brimstone in which he'd once bravely fought with halo forged from gold and sword of heaven rusted. and for all that was good and kind, he simply could not cease crying. how pathetic.

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 finally dare to peer at his crimson stained back. they were gone, tattered, horrendous appearing stubs of torn flesh and tattered feather where grave beauty once bestowed. he wasn't perfect anymore. the fact caused great nausea, a feeling which he'd 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.

phanuel mustered strength to move forward, each step graceless and uncertain and stunning gaze wide with utmost fear with uneven breath. he'd so caught up within his thoughts he'd been that it was solely now he managed to take note of his surroundings- it was all so, empty. gray seemed to be main color scheme alongside the scent of thinning bone and rotting flesh; the perfume of a dance with death. it was entirely overwheelming, phanuel found himself on the brink of unconsciousness due to the disgusting, repent-able scent; as if he'd never struck down wide-eyed children in the name of virtue and the promise of a savior.

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 frightened and utterly alone. 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 been tortured, body carved with marks of cruelty 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. (tl;dr, keep scrolling)

(tl;dr basically phanuel was an angel who had his wings ripped off and was cast out to earth, after freaking out for a good while he came across a npc corpse in the middle of the exiles' camp in the middle of the night and began to pray for it. also, i apologize for the bad ending rip )

is fact, however, did not discourage phanuel. the injured once-angel simply finished his silent prayer with haste, gently muttering a soft amen. phanuel then allowed hues of such a blue that the no mortal sky could dare rival, gazing to this newcomer with an expression of questioning ever so slightly lingered with anger. had she not taken note of his actions? mortals truly had strewn far from the path of righteousness. then he recalled the agony which came from tattered wings as crimsons stained pelt of an utmost pure porcelain. but then, he looked to her further. there was a form of celestial nature clinging to her bones in which he simply couldn't place. "It's the perfect time," phanuel responded in a matter of fact tone, "This creature needs prayers far more than I." once angel or not, some habits did not die with ease. they weren't the sole ones to stray from the path. none the less, he'd be swift to attempt to jump back on it. it was due to this realization, however, a more sorrowful expression overtook haunting features and phanuel gave no words of cruelty to the girl which approached him and regretted those he spoke; a fact which was read upon his perfect face. but then he became complacent, sorrowful gaze of a blue to put pleasant mortal skys to shame hallowed and dizzy as he observed the world about him. "Excuse my ignorance," he began, offering a horrednously fake form of smile, "But...where am I?" then, something different caught the once angel's attention.

evil.

the creature appeared beautiful, with exhaustion seemingly threatening to consume him from perhaps some recent traumas. one would assume a gentle being such as phanuel could comphrened this, especially given his own circumstance, but old habits reined supreme. the world, in the former angel's eyes, what that of strict back and white and this being was an oncoming threat. phanuel looked to merlot with a frown, grand judgement flickering through lovely eyes. he did not like that one. not in the least and the fact could be seen easily upon his face. "No," phanuel responded to luca, firm and cruel with a cold gaze which could make even the chilliest of winters feel warm. but the next to come forward, who appeared close to the demon, did manage to allow phanuel another sorrowful smile of the broken variety. "Thank you, but I deserve what's happened to me," he was utterly regretful, pained, "So I'd rather eave it to fester." he needed to focus on the pain which he so deserved, to let it consume him, to prove to his god he knew he was undeserving of heaven. the words falling from a tone like a lullaby were destructive and strange to the normal being, but that's all the angel now knew.