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Zachariah

The highest form of worship we can give our Father is to make use of the intelligence He has given us.. and figure out why on bloody Earth we're here.

0 · 1,034 views · located in Los Angeles

a character in “A City of Fallen Angels”, as played by Moonstruck

Description

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No Sugar in My Coffee | Caught a Ghost





"I do not pretend to know what our Father is thinking, but by my power of observation and the ache in my bum from that hard fall I'd say He's not happy with us."





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{ Misnomer }
Zachariah

{ Gender }
I am a sentient being that cannot be identified within your small realm of understanding, but for simplicity's sake we'll say male.

{ Beliefs }
Zachariah was not happy about getting kicked out of the nest but now that heโ€™s here on Earth, or the Silver City, heโ€™s okay and is adapting. He is making a genuine effort to understand the ways of humans and why his father finds the hairless apes so endearing. He challenges himself by appearing in public spaces and interacting with them in human form. So far he still hasnโ€™t had any meaningful interaction with a human; most of what heโ€™s seen only seems to support the general opinion of his brothers and sisters that humans are superficial, one dimensional, weak creatures, but he wonโ€™t give up until heโ€™s found that one human connection that proves him wrong.





"I wasn't being sarcastic, I was just speaking with intelligence beyond your comprehension."





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{ Personality }

For a divine being Zachariah relies very little on faith and has a very scientific and technical mind. He believes that doing his Father's will takes active thinking and experimentation, and that even if their Father does have a plan that it is no excuse to be dull and idle. He actively seeks to understand why they are here; knowing only for sure that one of his Father's most beloved creations (besides angels of course) have something to do with it.

Zachariah has become an anthropologist of sorts and in his effort to understand the homo sapien sapien, he tries to live amongst them as much as possible, or at least as much as he can bear in one day. He even keeps an address at a loft that correlates to his own home in the Silver City. Sometimes he can become so incredibly frustrated with the lack of foresight and intuition of humans that he gets ornery and will pick on them for his own amusement. His pranks are mostly harmless though and he would not do anything that would hurt one seriously. Mostly it's just to relieve pent up tension and reassert his superiority over man.





"I will figure out why we're here and I'll get my brothers and sisters back home. Hopefully with some dignity intact."





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{ Face Claim }
Benedict Cumberbatch

So begins...

Zachariah's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Anael - Joy of God Character Portrait: Hael the Kind Character Portrait: Kirsten McLain Character Portrait: Zachariah Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern Character Portrait: The Archangel Michael
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โ€ 
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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.

โ€ 





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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. โ€˜Everythingโ€™ 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: Anael - Joy of God Character Portrait: Hael the Kind Character Portrait: Kirsten McLain Character Portrait: Zachariah Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern Character Portrait: The Archangel Michael
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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 eventโ€ฆThe thing about Em was that she didnโ€™t really have a barometerโ€ฆTo 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.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Zachariah Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern
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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.

โ€œOur voices sound so small.โ€ Ezekiel had observed aloud, rubbing his throat to feel the vibrating vocal cords within as he spoke.

Zachariah snorted through his nose, โ€œYes, before our voices could make their ears bleed. I donโ€™t see the point in talking to them now. Theyโ€™re so dull.โ€

โ€œDull?โ€

โ€œB O R I N G.โ€ he clarified, not realizing that it was not the definition his brother was confused with.

โ€œYour voice sounds.. different.โ€

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 toโ€ฆ.. Interact with them.

Well, he shouldnโ€™t be too hasty he thought to himself. There were other ways to get to know humans other than getting to know one personally. Thatโ€™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 didnโ€™t waste their God given gift of a brain which separated them from the apes, individualsโ€ฆ.
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โ€œ..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. Wouldnโ€™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.

โ€œIs this your club?โ€ 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 heโ€™d heard so far out of a human mouth came from something so unassuming..

Setting

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Character Portrait: Zachariah Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern
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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 starโ€ฆthey 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: Zachariah Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern
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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: Zachariah Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern
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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: Zachariah Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern
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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.โ€ 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. โ€œI 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 yourselfโ€ฆโ€ 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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โ€œBye.โ€ 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 couldnโ€™t open a library account without a last name and I.D., but with a subtle wave of his hand before the librarianโ€™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 wasnโ€™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 didnโ€™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 1940โ€™s..

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Anael - Joy of God Character Portrait: Kirsten McLain Character Portrait: Zachariah Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern Character Portrait: Anael Character Portrait: Anael (ื”ื ื™ืืœ)
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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."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Anael - Joy of God Character Portrait: Zachariah Character Portrait: Gabriel
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The sensation that went through her also went through him. It was just something they would have to get used to. Gabriel had experienced it before when in physical contact with humans or other angels, but never like this. Their bodies were not meant to contain what they really were.
Anael had pulled away from the hug, to his relief. Not because he had anything against her, quite the contrary, but because she was right. It wouldn't do to draw too much attention to themselves. The joy he felt of having found Anael was much greater than he had expected, but he didn't have time to linger on that thought for long.

Her expression changed and for an instant it was as if the joy had gone out of her. It took Gabriel by surprise though he did know the answer. She was right. Had any of them, though? If there was an angel content with being confined to this form all because their father wanted to teach them a lesson, that angel surely had not crossed his path. When he looked back upon her face, her expression had changed again, but now a smile graced her features. Gabriel smiled crookedly and he nodded. She did not leave him much of a choice, though, but he followed gladly. "The only positive thing I have experienced so far, down here." He said with a frown that quickly turned to another smirk. "Coffee and finally seeing you again, dear sister."

Somewhere deep in his mind he wondered if she knew what it felt like to be cast down and to be alone as he had? Had Anael found one of their brothers or sisters shortly after their fall? Had she wandered restlessly as well, without hope and in despair?
"You have not been to the Silver City, Gabriel." Anael's voice pulled him away from those thoughts that had dampened his spirit. Now was the time to feel joy. It would be impossible not to, with her near him. "You should come along with me later. It is much more peaceful, and we are not at all obliged to deal with humans, although Zachariah comes along every once in a while and I am forced to speak to him and endure him. It would help very much if you were present to distract me." Gabriel thought about it as he followed by her side and looked out for a place they could go for coffee. The mention of their brother's name brought a frown to his face, but he shrugged. "Perhaps you're right." The angel finally let out. "And if there is peace there, for us, I would gladly go. As for Zachariah..." He sighed, remembering him. "Our combined patience should endure, don't you think?" He gave her a reassuring smile, took her hand and squeezed it before letting go.
Most didn't recall Gabriel as he was around Anael. Often he was harsh and strict, though definitely not without compassion. Anael just had a way of taking troubles off your shoulders. Even if you talked about things that troubled you - as they currently were - it felt like you could overcome them. That was how he saw Anael and that was part of why she was so dear to him.

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Character Portrait: Anael - Joy of God Character Portrait: Zachariah Character Portrait: Gabriel
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โ€œI thought I heard my name.โ€ A deep baritone voice interrupted their conversation.

Zachariah appeared behind the shoulder of his brother Gabriel. โ€œGabriel, long time no see. Youโ€™ve been elusive as of late.โ€ Zachariah stated, walking to the front of the pair his fingers pointed in a steeple thoughtfully. โ€œI should have thought to look for you in more of these coffee establishments.. Many humans have addictive personalities such as your own vessel, brother.โ€ They knew at this point he had been eavesdropping on their conversation long enough to know of Gabrielโ€™s fondness of coffee.

To imply that Gabriel had any human weakness such as addiction was a rather deprecating thing to point out, but it was hard to tell if Zachariah actually meant his comment meanly or if he was simply disappointed in his inability to find Gabriel sooner by deduction. He often said things he observed aloud even to the detriment of his relationships, so impartial and curt he was almost self-defeating. โ€œShall we grab a cup of coffee together for a little archangel reunion?โ€ He dropped his hands down to his side, spinning around in expectation they would follow him which they did so reluctantly.

They found the coffee shop two blocks down which the cop had mentioned to them earlier. It was a happening place with local art hanging on the walls, university students surfing the net on free wifi, and hipsters in thick-rimmed glasses serving up certified organically grown cups of coffee to their environmentally conscious clientele. Zachariah ordered black tea rather than coffee and a โ€œbiscuitโ€. When the barista gave him a strange look he pointed to the pastry behind the glass display he was looking at and pronounced very slowly and clearly for her, โ€œthe COO-keeโ€. He glanced sideways at his siblings, rolling his eyes to share his frustration of having to deal with such simple minded creatures. Once his siblings had ordered their own drinks with a subtle wave of his hand they by-passed the register without payment and took a seat at a table.

โ€œI must say, I do like having taste buds itโ€™s one of the few things I have enjoyed since the fall, but hunger is so inconvenient to have to deal with. I feel there are more important things to do than eat but this bloody vessel..โ€ he sighed, dunking the tea bag in his cup. โ€œI can only imagine how our younger siblings are faring having to deal with all these lesser base instincts.โ€

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Anael was pleasantly surprised when Gabriel reached out and squeezed her hand. She turned back briefly, her lips tugging upwards into a faint smile. "Yes, I think so," she replied.

She was interrupted by a rather unexpected appearance. "I thought I heard my name." Anael stopped abruptly, nearly walking into a lamppost. "Zachariah!" Of course, being her brother, he was not unwelcome, so to speak, but his sudden (and uninvited) appearance, added to the fact that he'd been eavesdropping for a while, was rather enough to ruffle her feathers - metaphorically.

"Shall we grab a cup of coffee together for a little archangel reunion?" Anael's gaze shot heavenward, but she nodded, albeit a little reluctantly, and began trailing after Zachariah. "You want to watch what you say, brother. People are extraordinarily perceptive sometimes," she warned, glancing around to see if anyone had registered the words archangel reunion. Apparently none had, as they went on their way with no further interruption.

The coffee shop was... unexpected. The doors, automated instead of the usual metal-handled ones many other establishments preferred, slid open smoothly, a wave of cool air rushing out to ruffle Anael's hair. The air conditioning was followed instantly by music, which was not soft by any means but did not drown out the chatter emanating from the coffee shop's patrons. Many of them were hunched over their various devices, phone and tablets and laptops, and for a moment Anael wondered the point of it all.

Still, there was a general sense of easygoing friendliness, and Anael found herself returning the smile of the person behind the counter. Upon hearing the disdain in Zachariah's voice grow even more pronounced, she turned and raised her eyebrows at Gabriel, a look that meant You see what I have to deal with?

It took Anael a while to squint at the many types of drinks listed above their heads. She finally settled on a mocha breve, which, while still a little unknown, sounded nice and tasted good, as she found. "Thank you," she said smoothly, sailing past the cashier on Zachariah's heels to a table.

"I think we are supposed to find some enjoyment in eating," she observed, taking a sip of her coffee. "What could you possibly have to do that is so important?"

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The smile she sent him was pleasant and Gabriel returned it. A moment later it was replaced though, by a frown and an easily sensed unease and annoyance. He sighed and hoped that his sister would not react negatively. He knew her quite well and didn't expect her to, but he also knew that Zachariah wasn't her favourite brother, so to speak, and the way he had approached them didn't make it easier for her.
"Brother." He said by way of greeting. He studied him with a raised eyebrow, staying silent until Zachariah opened his mouth again. Maybe I should have said something first, after all. And he regretted that he hadn't. What came out of his brother's mouth was more of an insult than anything else. At least to Gabriel. He was unsure whether he meant what he said as an insult or something else, but Gabriel's pride was easily wounded.

Before he could retaliate, they were on their way again. "Agreed." Gabriel said, following Anael's words. She was right. It wouldn't do to draw too much attention to themselves. Even his brother's way of turning around and walking off, expecting them to follow annoyed him. Zachariah was a very special personality to figure out and handle, and Gabriel did not have an abundance of patience.

The coffee shop was... Nice. There were people there, but they weren't noisy. Earth was always noisy, he had found. The streets, shopping malls, everywhere. Noise. More than he could bear sometimes, but in here it was easier to relax. Gabriel followed his siblings quietly, instead studying the people that occupied the coffee shop with deep interest. As an angel he did not understand their obsession with computers and tablets and cellphones. But there were many things regarding humans that he did not understand and possibly never would.
The look his sister shot him made him smile for a brief moment, a smile that was meant to have the same effect on her. If he could, he'd try to make this easier and less frustrating for her. And she's the patient one. He shrugged to himself and proceeded to order his drink.

"Learn to live with it." Gabriel said, offensively to his brother. He took a sip of his iced coffee and tilted his head to the right. "This is what we have been confined to, and we mustn't disobey Father." He didn't feel like he had been planted among lesser creatures. Gabriel doubted the meaning of why they were here, what the lesson was and the idea behind it, but these humans were also Father's creations.

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Character Portrait: Anael - Joy of God Character Portrait: Zachariah Character Portrait: Gabriel Character Portrait: Anael
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"I think we are supposed to find some enjoyment in eating,โ€ Anael said wisely, ever the optimist, and then in a more curious tone asked. "What could you possibly have to do that is so important?" "Trying to find a way to get us and our siblings back home. Other than that nothing of grave importance." Zachariah shrugged. He was not about to tell her about his little book club meeting this evening. He didn't need them to think him even more of an oddball than he already was or that God forbid he was growing soft. His brother then spoke up after Anael. "Learn to live with it." Gabriel suggested with a less than subtle hint of annoyance. He took a sip of his iced coffee and tilted his head to the right. "This is what we have been confined to, and we mustn't disobey Father."

This statement seemed to spur an unexpected stab of emotion and his blue eyes lit up. โ€œWhat orders are you obeying? How do you know what Father wants?โ€ he asked pointedly to his sibling. โ€œWe all used to think that we knew what He wanted and now look where we are.โ€ He realized then his words were on the edge of mutinous and he quickly settled down, his blue eyes reverting back to normal. In a more reasonable tone of voice he said, โ€œI am not suggesting that what our Father has done to us is unjustified or that He had no reason. The problem is I donโ€™t believe we are asking the right questions. In fact, we are not asking questions at all.โ€

It was what always set him apart from his siblings: questions. He wanted to know the why behind everything. Well, Lucifer had too and as much as he hated to admit it now they had been close. Ever since his brother had been cast out of Heaven curiosity and questioning of Godโ€™s will became dangerous. Zachariah turned even more in on himself and was careful with what thoughts he shared with his siblings. He was even hesitant in what little he was sharing now. โ€œAnyways, I wonโ€™t be able to find a way off this rock by myself. The place is simply too big and filled with too many empty gourds. I need..โ€ He was about to say the word help, but it sounded far too vulnerable in his mind and he quickly changed it to โ€œAssistance. Will you two assist me?"

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Character Portrait: Zachariah Character Portrait: Emma Morgenstern
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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: Anael - Joy of God Character Portrait: Zachariah Character Portrait: Gabriel
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Anael watched Zachariah's eyes light up with hidden fury, and reached out, one hand on Gabriel's arm and one on Zachariah's, ready to break up a fight if the situation required so of her. She let Zachariah talk - it seemed to help, and it was disturbing no one.

"Look," she began hesitantly, "our Father is a complex being. Who can rightly say what exactly He wants, when He wants it? See all the times we have trusted Him when He told us to do something, look at Abraham, Joseph, Elijah. The Lord's motives are hidden, but they have reason, and I truly hope we will learn them soon. But until then, we should trust in Him, as He does not see that our questions - your questions, Zachariah, are important now. You will find answers in due time."

Anael knew Zachariah's analytical mind, and she knew it was possible nothing in this world would ever satisfy him to the fullest, which was a terrible thing to admit but true nonetheless. She'd always tried to be patient with him, and though they didn't get along all the time they were still siblings, and she hoped there would be no conflict between them.

"Zachariah, I promise you we will return to whence we came from, and should you need help finding the way you can rely on us. I presume that is the assistance you require?"

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Character Portrait: Anael - Joy of God Character Portrait: Hael the Kind Character Portrait: Zachariah Character Portrait: Gabriel Character Portrait: The Archangel Michael
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Michael sneered satisfactorily as Hael finally cowed. Perhaps she didn't not agree with his totalitarian rule, but she knew when she was outmatched, and that passion dosed temper of hers was snuffed out in the shadow of the archangel's unflinching fury. He allowed his gaze to trail away from her angelic face to the now emptied store around them. He'd leave her to her little paints and playthings, to indulge in being a human. He had matters more worth his time. Michael deserted her with a foreboading, "I'll be keeping my eye on you." and left the art supply shop in relatively one piece, save a few pastel displays and rattled windows now in lose frames.

Outside, still seething from the argument last had, he marched straight back to the Silver City to call his most trusted few to his side. It was a time for action, not for this idle nonsense that softer angels preached. He mainlined to the glass tower that acted as his temporary 'home' and office, and sounded what was known as The Horn Of Gabriel--named such by it's creator, Michael's battle born second in command. It was not a literal horn, but a sigil drawn in the blood of an archangel. He sliced his palm and drew it on the board room wall, activating it's Holy call before settling in at the head of a long oaken table that bore scours of enochian runes on it, some for peace and strength, and others meant for secrecy. The sound of the horn would reach all the top tier angels such as Gabriel, Anael, and Zachariah; and they would all know what it heralded and where they were needed. This was not the first time they would have met there in Michael's home, that was the purpose of this room altogether, a place for them to assemble, however it would be the first time under circumstances such as these. The other angels could not predict just what Michael had in mind...not this time, for he was teetering on the brink of utter outrage, his implaccable nature inflamed by Hael's disobedience. He meant to strike up a war.

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Zachariah was smart. Very smart. For a moment, Gabriel feared that holy war and all his problems and dealings with humans and other creatures of his father's creation, had slowed his mind. Perhaps not. Perhaps his brother was just more intelligent than him. Gabriel was more quick to anger. He looked more like Michael in that regard. Not too much, I hope. The thought scent a chill down his spine.
Fortunately, his dear sister was there to calm them both. Though his brother's analytic nature annoyed him at the moment, he was surprised by the last request he put forth.

Zachariah asked for their help. Gabriel had not expected that. He was under the impression that his brother meant to win Father's grace and return to his side on his own. He let Anael talk for them though. When they were done, his eyes met Zachariah's and he nodded. Gabriel would help him if he could and the cause was worthy, as well as the means. How they were going to get back into Heaven, he did not know. He was confused, troubled, frustrated and restless all at the same time. Why this had been done to them, he honestly couldn't understand. "We will help you, brother." Gabriel finally said and leaned back in his seat. "Though know thi-"

The sensation from when he had touched Anael earlier, the jolt of electricity that went up his spine when their skin touched suddenly struck him, though much harder. Gabriel knew that feeling all to well. He had made so many angels feel that exact same thing for thousands of years. "He's calling us." He said, his eyes suddenly glowing violet again. They had no choice but to obey and answer the Horn of Gabriel. It was used to convene them as well as sound the Judgment Day - though not one single human seemed to be noticing anything at all, so it had in this case not been used for the latter.

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Zachariah didnโ€™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. โ€œHeโ€™s calling us.โ€ Gabriel said. It was only then Zachariah set down his tea on the table and gave a martyred roll of the eyes. โ€œWell, than I guess we should all be going,โ€ Zachariah stated standing and brushing his coat off. He didnโ€™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 didnโ€™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. โ€œI shall catch up to you both when I am done with business.โ€ 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 LAโ€™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 lambโ€™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.

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The call struck Anael hard. The Horn of Gabriel exerted a great pull over her, and had she been able to retain her wings Anael would have gone over as fast as she could.

"He's calling us." "Yes, yes he is," she breathed. "Let's go, come on." She stood abruptly, pushing her chair back with a screech. She and Gabriel followed Zachariah outside, but then he turned away. "I shall catch up to you both when I am done with business." Anael watched him go, slightly puzzled at how Zachariah could ignore the call of the Horn of Gabriel as though it were nothing. "Hurry along!" she called after his back.

She turned in a few circles, as though Michael could be standing right there. "Where do we go?" she asked Gabriel. "Where is it calling you?" She closed her eyes and shut out the bustle of the people around her, and thought back to the sound of the Horn. No, she could not find it.

"I can't find it." Anael frowned. "Mortality is annoying. Gabriel, what do you think?"