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Emma Morgenstern

There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others.

0 · 506 views · located in Los Angeles

a character in “A City of Fallen Angels”, originally authored by Caged Bird, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

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Tᴏ ʏɪᴇʟᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪʟʏ--ᴇᴀsɪʟʏ--ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀsᴜᴀsɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴀ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ɪs ɴᴏ ᴍᴇʀɪᴛ....
Tᴏ ʏɪᴇʟᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴠɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ɪs ɴᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴏғ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ.






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MISNOMER
Emma Morgenstern

GENDER
Female

BELIEFS

Emma Morgenstern was born into a devout Christian family, one that was in attendance at church every single Sunday. As she has grown older, her studies taking more of her focus, she has drifted away from her faith a bit, but she usually wears a small gold unornamental cross to be a reminder to keep the faith. She has her doubts, her logical side posing too many questions for one book to answer, but she has to believe there is more to life than just this. At any rate, whether or not heaven is ultimately real, she believes it can not hurt to live your life by a set list of moral guidelines. She does not however, just live by these rules in order to achieve some special higher level of being after death, but merely because that's who she is a s a person, so it takes little effort on her part to be a good Christian without having to contemplate her faith too much.






Tʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs, I ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ, ɪɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴅɪsᴘᴏsɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀ ᴛᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴄʏ ᴛᴏ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄᴜʟᴀʀ ᴇᴠɪʟ—
ᴀ ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ᴅᴇғᴇᴄᴛ, ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇsᴛ ᴇᴅᴜᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴄᴀɴ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴄᴏᴍᴇ.






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PERSONALITY

Emma is most noted for being extremely intelligent and hard-working, coming out on top in most of her classes. She is so studious, she is a sophomore in college at just seventeen. Because of her efficiency, she often has time to do hobby work on the side, such as volunteer for advocate organizations and charities. Such acts demonstrate Emma's social conscience, tenacity, and compassion. Unlike most people her age who depended solely on their gut instinct, Emma readily relies on logic. Although this often has helped her cleverly deduce information that many others missed, Her emphasis on logic also makes her skeptical about accepting anything without proof, as opposed to her brother who usually comes to intuitive conclusions.

Emma is quite responsible, perfectionistic and well put-together. Throughout her entire high school career, she was insistent on order and steadfastly devoted to the rules, at the expense of her popularity. Her sense of humor is limited; she frequently expresses disapproval over practical jokes. She often attempts to act as the voice of reason to her more impulsive brother, to varying levels of success. However, in spite of her straightlaced disposition, Emma is not above using coercion and threats to get what she wants. Emma is not afraid to stand up to her friends or family when she thinks it is in their best interests, or when she feels they are wrong. She has great strength and willpower in this. However, because of her opinionated, interfering nature, Emma has the reputation for being a bossy know-it-all. Her sometimes abrasive attitude masks deep insecurities and fear of failure.

Emma demonstrates her bravery many times when facing danger, though she initially shows a tendency toward mild panic in the sudden situations. She is extremely loyal to her friends, and is always ready to give some well meant advice if they find themselves in need of it. She is quite blunt with her opinions, sometimes to the point of being tactless. Despite this, Emma is generally sensitive to others' emotions, and would lie when she had to, though she was not a skilled liar. Emma also tends to be rather argumentative, a trait most evident in her interactions with her brother. Although she is generally not as short-tempered as her friends, she displays a formidable one on several occasions.






Iᴛ ɪs ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄᴜʟᴀʀʟʏ ɪɴᴄᴜᴍʙᴇɴᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ
ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴ, ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴇᴄᴜʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴊᴜᴅɢɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴏᴘᴇʀʟʏ ᴀᴛ ғɪʀsᴛ.






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ImageHISTORY

Emma grew up in California with her younger by two whole minutes, more irresponsible twin brother Noah in a nice three bedroom brownstone. Her father was a dentist, her mother a librarian, so it came as no surprise when their daughter was revealed to be a bit of a bookworm and not quite the social butterfly. She quickly learned to value knowledge over adventure, and rarely left her home save between the pages of a good novel.

What might have come as a shock though, was that her brother, who was born only shortly after, was night where she was day. He was sociable and exciting; funny, charming, and courageous. He always encouraged Emma in school to socialize more, but Emma was only concerned with getting through high school as quickly as possible, achieving a great deal in a small amount of time.

Soon, she was on the fast track to graduation, leaving her perturbed brother behind as she traipsed off to college. However, as soon as she entered college, she began to realize perhaps her brother had been right all along. She should have savored time with friends, and branched out more from her academics. College is a lonely place for a seventeen year old girl who still lives with her parents.

Now she is trying to push herself to make time for normal teenage fun activities.(Whatever that means) with Noah's help. She struggles with finding her niche, and despite herself, she keeps waiting for something big to happen-to shake up her world and make her special. It's something she prays for...






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FACE CLAIM
Emma Watson

Nᴏᴛ Aʙᴏᴜᴛ Aɴɢᴇʟs | Bɪʀᴅʏ

So begins...

Emma Morgenstern's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern Character Portrait: Hael the Kind Character Portrait: The Archangel Michael Character Portrait: Kirsten McLain Character Portrait: Zachariah Character Portrait: Anael - Joy of God
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†
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The angels had fallen for days.
An entire population plummeting to the dirt as a silent rain of light.
They descended: a thousand rending voices howling in terror.
They bore the agony of every single angelic atom tearing itself apart,
changing it's fundamental properties,
and then swallowing itself whole; making darkness out of light.
The destruction of heaven did not end in a roarous battle,
but rather a muted cry as angel wings were torn and cast aside,
pouring out of the sky like shooting stars.

†





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Earth was cold.

Michael had always imagined that the world would be unbearably warm. To be on such a rock, constantly beset by the light of stars and the wild heat of the sun, to be filled with roiling molecules and energy and heat all your own? Surely it was stifling, surely it was fire like that of Hell. He had since discovered, among other follies of his own, how skewed his conceptions of earth were. For it was winter; constant and interminable, winter seeping through the flesh of his newfound body, winter in his lungs and his nose; always winter. This was worse, so much worse than Hell. The stars, from a view at level with the crust and the dirt, were much farther away than they appeared from Heaven. And the inner heat, the boiling internal burn of his breathing flesh, only made the cold all that much colder. It was, Michael learned, through dissonance that human bodies measured temperature. And the void between blood and ice was wide.

Earth was cold.

The Archangel was older than mortal minds could comprehend; ageless - his existence was not bound to a linear timeline, like the earth and the trees and the sky. His infinity compared to that of an individual mortal life, was immense. It was unbelievably disparate. ‘Everything’ was an abstract for mankind. Forever was impossible. A grand notion that could not possibly leave impressions behind because its feet were imaginary. But Michael had known every single footprint. The rise of Rome. The occupation of Jerusalem. The floods of the Nile. Venice carved of marble. Constantinople built. The dynasties of China. He saw the plagues. The Crusades. Stalingrad. He had stood at the brink of creation when the angels were once legion and were alone save for the deafening noise of the birth of the universe and the destruction of the void that crashed around them. He was a seraph, a leader for the entire duration of his imeasurably long existance. He was a burning, massive star, and still was to an extent, but now that grace was shoved into a nearly mortal body that barely contained the enormous power he had, he was. He could still feel the crackle of that electricity humming in his veins, beneath alien skin.

He may have looked human, but Michael did not have humanity. He was inertia. Ions in the atmosphere. Crackling white light in the sky and fires on the ground. Would God ask for him to be naught but a man? This was a test, a test of his loyalty, he was sure of it. Surely God would not cast out his faithful son without divine plan? They were told they had failed, not recognized man's worth. They had forgotten the greatness of Adam over an eternity. They needed to be reminded, He said. So they fell. Michael felt he had no lesson to garner from this, he always did as his father told. He was infallible. He must have been cast out to protect his siblings from going astray. That must have been it. He would suffer until they learned the errors of their ways, bare the unbareable and in the mean time, Michael would protect them from the temptaion of sin. He would establish the Silver City on another plane of existance and guard them from the very train of thought that lead to the end of the morning star. He would be a triumphant hero yet again for returning his family home safely, and he would bask in the Lord's pride...or so he believed.

The thing about angels was that God had built them with the design to live forever, and minds to conceive of the passing of time. And to keep them alive, He had to balance the disjunction. Nothing could exist in a single state very long without self-destructing. So God had to make the angels variable, He had to put everything into them so that they could be everything, and persist. He put in the light of Eden, the dark of creation, and the ruthless heart of all the empty spaces in between in this universe. They weren't heartless. They were simply filled to the brim with motion and collision and impunity. And none were so hardened as Michael, he was one of the oldest and unknowingly and unintentionally one of the greatest offenders. Even now, as he sat at the center of this angelic city hidden in the depths of Los Angeles, commanding the fallen, he could not see the error of his own ways. He was no closer to returning to Heaven than his bretheren.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern Character Portrait: Hael the Kind Character Portrait: The Archangel Michael Character Portrait: Kirsten McLain Character Portrait: Zachariah Character Portrait: Anael - Joy of God
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"So I can either bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute?" Noah asked on the other end of the phone line as Emma wove her way through the sidewalk traffic. She very nearly choked on the exasperation directed at her twin whom she would have throttled had he been currently in her presence and not back at home. "NOAH. No. Stop." She heard his full bellied, throaty laugh resound in reply. "So you're saying I should go for it?" Her eyes nervously combed the street clotted by a swarm of cranky Angelites, searching for a familiar mischevious face that she hoped was just around the corner cruely teasing her instead of committing accidental arson. "How about 4,000,000 degrees for one second?!" he pushed, the sound of the oven groaning open followed by the dull thud of the cookie tray. "Noah, you are going to burn the house down!" She derided as he repeated his increasingly annoying laugh. "Brick doesn't burn, I'm going to harness the fucking sun to make these cookies."

"Noah, P L E A S E." She whined, stomping her foot on the ground though she knew he couldn't see the gesture. "Oh, fine Captain kill joy. Calm yourself. I'm just messing around. The cookies will be unburnt and ready for the creepy stepford book club, I solemly swear." Emma rolled her eyes. "I don't know why you insist on joining this nerdy crap when you could be out having a social life like normal people." he finished lamely.

"Ugh, just because it isn't your idea of a good time, doesn't mean it's not one. It is social and I didn't just join a club, I'm it's founder. You might try expanding your knowledge through literature instead of rotting your brain with booze and video games. We aren't meant to be mindless sheep, following the herd. We're individuals, capable of independent thought. We wouldn't be born with the ability to absorb information and learn and grow, if we weren't meant to utilize our brains and think for ourselves. Why don't you try stepping out of the conformist box, and not worry what your friends think. Come to the meeting. You might surprize yourself and have a good time." Emma ignored the dejected sigh on the other end. "Em, please. I'm doing you a favor. Spare me the life lesson. I'll stick to being cool, you can be the smart, well adjusted one."

It was Emma's turn to sigh, she could never change her brother just as he could never change her. They were twins, and thick as thieves, but as different as night and day. In truth, she hadn't invited him because she thought he might have a good time-she knew he wouldn't have. She did because she was worried if he didn't show, she'd be the only one there, left sitting by herself clutching a book and a tin charred of cookies looking to the world like a fool. "Anyways, I'm there now, I'll see you when I get home. Love you. "

She hung up after he drug out his faux, soppy goodbye and entered the Los Angeles Central Library, after all, where better to post flyers for the book club than the library? She was approaching this first meeting with same intensity as an Apocalyptic event…The thing about Em was that she didn’t really have a barometer…To her, everything was important. So she had done the works; supplied books, had her brother making snacks, continuously passed out flyers on that side of town all week, and was continuing to do so now.

ImageIt was pleasantly warm inside, a reprieve from the bitter bite of autum's chill, the wind having nipped at her nose until it was tinged pink. She stood quietly among shelves of decrepit magazines and microfilm, willing herself to drop off the flyers for her meeting tonight at the help desk instead of grabbing the nearest tome and taking a seat. There was a shaft of dirty sunlight, beamed down from a small window above her head, that broke through the dry air. One elongated corner of it, bronze and gold, fell on the toe of one of her brown leather boots. The floor tiles were the color of teeth and the walls smelled like newspaper. These things were all familiar to her senses. This place was comfortable, this place was home, it was her idea of Heaven. It brought a small satisfied smile to her face.

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Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern Character Portrait: Zachariah
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Zachariah did not pretend to know what his Father was thinking when He kicked him and his siblings out of Heaven. However, by his power of observation and the ache in his bum from their hard fall he knew He was not happy with them. And while most of his siblings were still having a pity party Zachariah was in pursuit of something more useful to do with his time than whining or staring pensively into space as his brother Michael did. He started by exploring their home on Earth, the Silver City. Also, he was quite intrigued by his physical encapsulation, his human body. At least God had shown some mercy and graced them with symmetrical and evenly attractive faces. He had figured out something quite peculiar about his vessel though in talking to his brethren.

“Our voices sound so small.” Ezekiel had observed aloud, rubbing his throat to feel the vibrating vocal cords within as he spoke.

Zachariah snorted through his nose, “Yes, before our voices could make their ears bleed. I don’t see the point in talking to them now. They’re so dull.”

“Dull?”

“B O R I N G.” he clarified, not realizing that it was not the definition his brother was confused with.

“Your voice sounds.. different.”

Every other one of his brothers and sisters had an Americanized accent that blended them into their new locale, whereas his vessel had an uppity British one. God was not without a sense of humor it seemed. Although the British accent he found lent more to his intelligence and sophistication than the American one.

Like a brave pioneer, he was one of the first to go out and get the lay of the land by foot and public transportation in Los Angeles. He had looked down on it a hundred times before, but it was different on the ground being jostled by crowds and fighting the traffic. He eavesdropped on conversations and observed man passively as they shuffled between point A and point B. He had not found many reasons to speak to any except out of necessity. Most were dull creatures. The man sitting beside Zachariah on the bus now was watching a cat video on his Iphone.

He rolled his eyes visibly at this, though it went unnoticed by the vacant people around him. Man had access to limitless knowledge at the tip of their fingers yet they chose mostly to use their ingenious devices for mind mushing entertainment. It was the opposite of what Zachariah needed which was brain stimulation. He could almost feel the neurons in his brain snapping back and forth, constantly making connections, like little electric shocks. These connections rocketed upward and upward when he first ventured into the human world. His mind was abuzz with the newness of it all, but those little shocks in his brain were plateauing. Observing the human race was not enough to understand them.

He might actually have to….. Interact with them.

Well, he shouldn’t be too hasty he thought to himself. There were other ways to get to know humans other than getting to know one personally. That’s how Zachariah found himself on the steps of the Los Angeles Central Library. Books could provide a wealth of knowledge and insight into the human psyche. He could find the best of minds within these four walls, ones that didn’t waste their God given gift of a brain which separated them from the apes, individuals….
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“..capable of independent thought. We wouldn't be born with the ability to absorb information and learn and grow, if we weren't meant to utilize our brains and think for ourselves. Why don't you try stepping out of the conformist box, and not worry what your friends think. Come to the meeting. You might surprise yourself and have a good time."

Hmmm. Wouldn’t that be a pleasant surprise to have a good time on this rock? A young woman passed him on the steps up to the library, her phone attached to her ear by the shoulder, preaching to the person on the other end of the line. He inconspicuously followed her, minding that he was visible to the human eye now and following people without their knowledge was considered very rude. Stalking he think they called it..

She stopped just inside the doors of the library where the public bulletin board was and proceeded to tack a poster up and lay out some flyers on the narrow table below it crammed with loads of ads and papers. He picked up one of the flyers just as she set them down. The flyer read BOOK CLUB.

“Is this your club?” he asked her, looking between her and the flyer. Upon closer inspection he realized she was very young, possibly in her 20s but no older than 24 and very plain looking. Interesting that the most profound thing he’d heard so far out of a human mouth came from something so unassuming..

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Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern Character Portrait: Zachariah
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No sooner had Emma wielded herself to leave the tempting shelf isles to put up her fliers, a pale hand snaked out from behind her and took one off the towering stack. Her head jerked upward with a start, taken aback by how silently someone had managed to approach without her noticing. She was immediately entranced by a tall, dark, byronic looking man. The place where he stood seemed to her a holy shrine, unapproachable, and there was one moment when she was almost retreating, so overwhelmed was she with nerves. She had to make an effort to master herself, and to remind herself that he had approached her, not the other way around. "Excues me, I'm sorry..." She started, for she had known his mouth had opened and words had undoubtedly come out, but they were temporarily lost in the white static streaming through her befuddled head. His eyes, far more intricate than any snowflake ever formed, looked like the heart of an ice-born planet; the event horizon of a white star…they were almost inhuman seeming.

"Uh, yes. Yes it is. Our first meeting is tonight at seven. If you're interested, the location is at the bottom. We are going to be taking a look at The Book Thief by Markus Zusak?" She rattled off as her sentence tapered into an upward inflection, as if she were posing a question. She tucked a wayward strand of wild hair behind her ear, belatedly recalling all the strands of her hair were wayward, like some bird had tried to make a nest there the day she was born and no matter how many times she combed it, it would alway looked as such. She wasn't an unattractive person, per say, just unmemorable. Mousey. A wallflower with crazy hair. He had probably just come over to poke fun at her, and had no interest in coming at all. For some reason the thought inflamed her. This broody looking intellectual come to poke fun at the high school aged nerd girl, trying to start something that he probably believed was beyond her comprehension.

Image"Before you say anything, let me just say this. I know it's a fairly simplisitic book perched on the cusp between adult and young-adult fiction, but there is a Vonnegut whimsy to the mordant turns of fate there and as college student, I promise it's worth analysis." Her hands caught the hem of her soft, lavender pink sweater sleeve, pulling and plucking at a loose string until it unraveled further. She wish he'd just take a stupid flier and leave. She wasn't good at social interaction with attractive people, she hadn't expected that any would want to attend to a book club.

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Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern Character Portrait: Zachariah
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The girl whirled around surprised by his silent approach. Her mouth hung open stupidly for a moment before what he said finally registered.

"Uh, yes. Yes it is. Our first meeting is tonight at seven. If you're interested, the location is at the bottom. We are going to be taking a look at The Book Thief by Markus Zusak?" the tone in her voice went up several notches, losing its certainty.

Zachariah responded with an intense quiet stare. It was hard to tell what was going on behind his almost luminescent blue eyes. He was utterly fascinated by her. He wanted to hear her speak something else intelligent like she had over the phone moments before. He wanted to grab the evolved little monkey and shake every bit of sense and insight out of her. She spoke up moments later however, words pouring out of her mouth in a non stop stream confidently.

"Before you say anything, let me just say this. I know it's a fairly simplistic book perched on the cusp between adult and young-adult fiction, but there is a Vonnegut whimsy to the mordant turns of fate there and as college student, I promise it's worth analysis."

His steadfast gaze did not appear to move at all from her face but he took in her whole appearance, from her mop of hair to the string coming undone in her pink sweater. Zachariah had a multitasking mind, with a knack for being able to keep tabs on a conversation while at the same time contemplating his own thoughts and analyzing his physical surroundings.

Image Half of what she said did not mean anything to him since he had little knowledge of literature, but it sounded sensible and reasonable enough. She had a rather drab appearance but her dark eyes had a shine in them that hinted at her brightness. It didn't matter to him the nest of hair upon her head as much as what was underneath it anyway. He stuck his hands and the flyer into his coat pockets, assessing her quietly a second more after she had finished her pitch, his face finally unfreezing from its stoic expression. "I shall have to take your word for it. Do I bring a copy of the book with me?" He asked, at last committing himself to going.

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Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern Character Portrait: Zachariah
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Emma felt like a bug beneath a microscope under the scrutiny of his intense gaze. His eyes harbored neither admiration nor repulsion, but rather, an alien sort of intellect that bore through her skull completely, analyzing the brain underneath. It was down right frightening. All the while, save for those eyes, he was totally motionless; like a statue carved from alabaster marble. "I shall have to take your word for it. Do I bring a copy of the book with me?" He asked not unkindly at long last, giving a small contribution to her one sided conversation.

He was probably going out of his way to be polite seeing as she had all but revealed this meetings personal importance to her to a complete stranger, which was considerate to say the least. She did feel a little childish, having rambled on like that in the effort to prove a point. Defensive without reason toward the poor man, she ought to see a shrink least she get whiplash from just how quickly her heady emotions flipped like a coin. There was just something about this man that was throwing her off kilter. "Well, you can if you already happen to own one, but seeing as the meeting is tonight, you could always just check it out here..." She looked past him toward the unending rows of shelves, and then let her gaze fall back to his sharp angular face. "Hang on a sec."

She was gone in a flash, leaving him standing idly by himself. Had he just been being courteous, or perhaps was uncomfortable refusing straight to her face, he could take the opportunity to dash then, while she was out of sight, and wash his hands of the awkwardness of it all. She scanned through the rows with practiced ease, the Dewey decimal system that all libraries were sorted by being more known to her than the syllables of her own name. ImageEmma found the product of her venture and returned back to the spot he was still standing in with posthaste. She produced the book and turned it over to him. "Here we are, and this one is still in relatively good condition too." She smiled, feeling just a bit pleased to have found him in the same place, not having ditched her for better prospects. "I don't know about you, but I love the older copies as long as they're kept up. They smell...wonderfully musty, and you just know it's passed through so many hands, it's knowledge departed on so many minds like your own, it makes you feel like a part of something bigger than yourself..." She mused, before hastily realizing she must have sounded like a complete and utter dim wit. "Sorry, I do need to go now, but enjoy the rest of your day! I'll...see you around." She nearly tripped over her own feet in her retreat toward the exit, throwing her hand up just slightly to shyly wave goodbye, before she was out the door and able to breathe once again.

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Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern Character Portrait: Zachariah
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"Well, you can if you already happen to own one, but seeing as the meeting is tonight, you could always just check it out here..." He followed her gaze to the rows of books. "Hang on a sec." She told him, disappearing into one of the aisles and re-emerging with the book in hand. He was surprised she had gone out of her way to help him, not even knowing that he was helplessly lost in this world.

"Here we are, and this one is still in relatively good condition too.” She said and handed him the copy and he took it gingerly from her. The pages and the cover of the book were slightly upturned at the corners like the mouth of the girl before him. Looking from the book back to her, there was something magnetic about her smile and he found he could have studied it all day for its meaning. “I don't know about you, but I love the older copies as long as they're kept up. They smell...wonderfully musty, and you just know it's passed through so many hands, it's knowledge departed on so many minds like your own, it makes you feel like a part of something bigger than yourself…” she stopped her musing, appearing embarrassed with herself. He merely stared blankly back at her as if he had no idea what she was talking about. He didn't really..

"Sorry, I do need to go now, but enjoy the rest of your day! I'll...see you around." She stumbled a little over the ground as she half-turned to wave good-bye.
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“Bye.” He did a little half-wave with the book in hand, reciprocating a smile then dropping it the moment she was out the door. Zachariah took the book up to the check-out desk. They couldn’t open a library account without a last name and I.D., but with a subtle wave of his hand before the librarian’s face, she went into a dazed state, and he was able to walk out with the copy of the book without a problem.





He opened the book once outside, putting it up to his face and taking a long, deep breath to smell the pages.

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Zachariah returned to the Silver City, simply fading out of Los Angeles as if he were disappearing into a fog and reappearing on the other side. He was always struck with how immaculate the Silver City was compared to Los Angeles. There were no bums holding signs, no trash on the ground, and no graffiti painted on its walls primarily made up of glass and white stone. The only hint of color was that of the sun reflecting off its crystal clear surfaces creating flashes of rainbows. If the angels wished they could see the correlating human world, like peering through a white veil, and there were various filters in which the angels could spy on the humans. They could also completely shut them out, though they could always be seen in the reflective glass surfaces or flashing in the rainbow light like dark phantoms haunting the angel city.

Zachariah stood out far more in the Silver City, not just because he was a higher seraph, but because of his dark clothes which contrasted with the white upon white surroundings. He strode down the street as casual as ever, resisting the urge to run up to his loft as eager as he was to read the book. He hid said book within his heavy coat, not unlike the book thief in the novel, so that no one could see it. It wasn’t in his nature to share anything that was going on with himself with his family. Everyone respected Zachariah because he was a powerful seraph, their older brother and they had to. It did not mean they thought him any less odd though and that was fine with Zachariah. He had convinced himself long ago he didn’t need anyone to understand him or be close to.

Tired of walking and realizing that he could teleport himself at this point, he vanished as he entered the lobby of the condo building he lived in and reappeared on his terrace at the very top of the 26 story high building. He stared out for a contemplative moment into the bleached scenery, the low saturation making it hard to see distant objects in the brilliance and the mountains appearing to be only white sand dunes in the distance. He then went inside his home, took off his coat, and flopped down on his black sofa to immediately begin reading.

Through the book he was taken to yet another time and place. He felt he was neither in Los Angeles or the Silver City anymore but in a little fictional town called Molching, Germany during the 1940’s..

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Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern Character Portrait: Kirsten McLain Character Portrait: Anael Character Portrait: Zachariah Character Portrait: Anael (הניאל) Character Portrait: Anael - Joy of God
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If there's one thing Anael would have preferred to come off as, it would be dignified. Dignified was not realising at the last moment that something was very wrong with Heaven. Dignified was not crashing thousands of miles downward to crash land in a body of water (angel or not, inhaling water was not a pleasant sensation. Granted, she probably couldn't die if she didn't want to, but that didn't mean she was going to carve her heart out for fun.) Dignified was not sitting up, spluttering, realising that she was among the most baffling of their Father's creations.

She adapted to the Silver City pretty well, learning fast that it was on a different existing plane than the city the humans lived in. She preferred to stay in the Silver City, holed up in her flat, attempting to communicate with their Father or using up paper and canvases. At least the art supplies shop at the corner of the street was making a living off her.

She sat around in her flat for a while, staring out the window at the sky, unresponsive as ever. "Father," she murmured, "why here? What have we done to deserve this? If it is Lucifer's fault - we had no part, I swear. All I need is a sign, please."

There was no reply.

Anael, tired and frustrated, got up and drifted down the stairs, wanting to be somewhere other than the little apartment. Angels had all the space they needed in Heaven, and the flat was getting claustrophobic. It seemed she was gradually gaining humanity.

Standing on the empty street, Anael spotted Zachariah coming towards her. Zachariah was annoying, and she had no desire to speak to him. Quickly, she travelled to the real world, finding herself still on the street, only it was much more crowded. Trying to avoid the crowd, Anael turned to duck into the nearest shop, but instead crashed into a girl passing by.

"Sorry!" Anael gasped, her shoulder banging against the wall. She grabbed the girl's arm in an attempt to stop her from falling. She remained in place for a moment, swaying uncertainly, shoulder stinging painfully. "My apologies," she finally managed. "I was unaware of my surroundings, and I am not used to such crowds of people, I am afraid. Are you alright?" She glanced down at the girl, checking her for injuries. "Truly I am apologetic."

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Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern Character Portrait: Zachariah
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At the far end of a curving one-way street was a little road called Wayward, which was small enough that you'd wonder why they even bothered putting in sidewalks. It was lined with trees that had grown in their own places at their own times, with a few aging white picket fences squeezed between. Emma's family brownstone was at the end, the very end, the road stopping right at its front gate. On it's brick face rested trellises that enabled vines of an unknown nature to crawl all the way to the second floor windows, which Emma wistfully wished she had been rebellious enough in her youth to have used to sneak out a time or two.

The house was dark when Emma opened the front door, the sun having already set. The streetlamps outside the windows that usually illuminated the way hadn't switched on yet, which wasn't unusual, they had a habit of being late. She stepped inside, to the left, and kicked off her boots. While her hand groped along the wall for the light-switch, she slid out of her jacket, and shut and locked the door.

She dropped her messenger bag with a satisfying thump onto the floor and marched across the room toward the kitchen with her stomach in her throat. "Noah?" She called out hesitantly, finding the kitchen as black as the living room had been. Flipping on her second set of lights revealed a pile of cookies resting in the center of the table with a sticky note on the edge of the plate.

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She smiled to herself, thanking God for her annoying twin brother, and went and found her meal and settled down at the table. She wasted no time eating, scarfing down her food with abandon, as her book club meeting would begin in less than an hour. She was all nerves and tension, excitement and anxiety drawing her muscles tight. She had no clue the number of people that would be attendance and hoped she had enough chocolate chip to go around. The idea occurred to her once more as she got up and rinsed her plate off in the sink that no one may show up, and the dark haired, blue eyed gentleman rose unbidden to mind. Surely, he would not have expressed interest just to tease her? She hoped not as she dried off the plate with a dish cloth and put it away before snatching up the cookies and carrying them into the living room and setting them on the coffee table along with her copy of The Book Thief.

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Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern Character Portrait: Zachariah Character Portrait: Anael - Joy of God Character Portrait: Gabriel
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Zachariah didn’t even so much as twitch at the sound of the horn. He impudently ignored it as if he were the rest of the human population unable to hear it, sipping his tea while Anael and Gabriel stopped in high alert like meerkats scoping for the direction of the sound. “He’s calling us.” Gabriel said. It was only then Zachariah set down his tea on the table and gave a martyred roll of the eyes. “Well, than I guess we should all be going,” Zachariah stated standing and brushing his coat off. He didn’t like being at the beck and call of his brother Michael, he seemed to blow the horn on a whim just to remind himself he could have them running to him like obedient dogs with a whistle. To be fair, this was his first time on Earth using it, but it didn’t make Zachariah any more interested in going, especially when he had something more entertaining to attend.

He walked behind his siblings out the door of the cafe but swiftly turned the opposite direction down the street as soon as they were outside. “I shall catch up to you both when I am done with business.” He told them, not bothering with an explanation. He left them and walked to the address on the flyer still in his pocket, the book tucked safely within the confines of his jacket. The location was a bit more out of the way than expected, down a one way drive lined with trees and white picket fences. It stood in stark contrast to the rest of LA’s concrete jungle, quiet with the packed streets only a distant buzz in the background. The street was called Wayward which Zachariah ironically wondered if that was the direction he was going. Waywardly.

He approached the respectable looking brownstone home at the end of the drive and knocked on the door. He waited a beat or two for an answer, the thought of lamb’s blood smeared over door frames in Egypt warding death away crossed his mind while he stood there. What an odd memory to recollect. When the door was not answered right away he knocked again this time with rapid impatience.