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paixaorpg2006-11-16 09:05 pm
thenewseraphita.livejournal.com) wrote in paixaorpg2006-11-16 09:05 pm
Entry tags:
Birdcage [Completed]
Character: Alexiel.
Content: Once again, the Organic Angel finds herself imprisoned by the weakness of her own flesh and the power of an unknown place.
Setting: Atziluth and Joutenheim Gate.
Time: Morning.
Warnings: Spoilers for Angel Sanctuary ending & brief nudity (Alexiel was nude at the beginning because that is how she was in the original Manga).
The last thing she remembered was the warmth of Lucifer's arms and his loving stare as they embraced, cradled by the nurturing light emanated by the Adam Kadmon. The Demon Lord's four wings rustled softly, black feathers dancing on the air, surrounding the pair. God was dead. Rosiel had found peace. Creation was saved. The Holy Hermit had delivered his last message. Finally, they were free from their bloodstained fates.
You fought for the day you may hold me, didn't you? Foolish man.
Unfortunately, their joyous meeting was as swift as their farewell; one minute, Alexiel was feeling the brush of his lips moving over her phantom ones to lock their mouths in a fierce kiss –a heartbeat, they were one pulse fluctuating in the vast universe. Yet, the next one, she was violently returned into her immobile body: in the jail made of exalted flesh that lacked strength to move. She felt heavy like the mountains, unlike the lightness of the freedom of her soul, bound to the tapestry of the worlds yet again.
Setsuna, my chosen child, Savior… the Organic Angel called within her body, now pulsating with life and breath, with heartbeat and awareness of senses - pain and pleasure marked her rebirth. But her soft words never reached the Messiah; the connection between them was severed at the same time her lost astral powers washed over her still form.
At the beginning of the wave of self and wings, Alexiel could feel her birthplace, the enchanting Atziluth, the layers beneath it filled with life and death. She was an old acquaintance with the cold marble her body was laying on, the crisp air she breathed, and the fine clothes that concealed her skin.
Open your eyes, see the world, open your eyes and be born, the angel repeated whilst trying to unfold her hands from her belly, to lift her arms in order to fly or touch the ceiling of the Holy Tower. Or just to wiggle a finger. Anything but remain in stillness. Anything…
Slowly, Alexiel recovered the domain of her hearing; her ears rang with an uncomfortable buzz for a second before she heard Lucifer's exclamation - angry, loud, and unintentionally afraid.
Then, she heard nothing - nothing at all.
She numbly floated in darkness for a period of time she could not know. Angels never truly measured time too well; it was an irrelevant limit for those born to be timeless. Her mind drifted into her past lives, into her memories as angel, human, and fallen. Her drained limbs strengthened while her consciousness slept and she rested until the world became real around her.
Alexiel awoke, blinking thrice as she pulled herself up to survey where she had landed. It did not look or feel like Atziluth in the least, the air was notably less cool and there was something off she could not quite figure out yet. Weakened as she was, the angel was able to summon a grey cloak to cover her features, tame her unruly long hair beneath the hood, and, most important, conceal the mark on her breast under the layer of cloth. She could not risk being discovered by any creature that used to work with or against God.
From a distance, she could spot a line of people (Humans? Angels? Demons? She briefly wondered who and what they were) gathering to line up for a large booth. Far behind them, she could see where a grand Dome stood, beautifully crafted and highly mysterious about what could hold within. She felt no nature contained within, not even a whisper of fertile soil.
Impossible, she thought, shaking the sensation to be walking on sculpted glass.
Curious, Alexiel approached, joining the queue of creatures that appeared as confused as her. She did not interrogate them, for their look, they knew as much as her.
While she waited her turn, the angel inspected the gate of the dome. It was built with grandiose melodramatic flair, framed by two menacing giants, crossing their clubs together as if they guarded the entrance (or perhaps the exit).
She did not notice that the last person standing before her left, the Seraphita had been distracted in studying the surroundings, attempting to feel the place in despite her weakened strength – read the areas, sense the presence of angels or demons.
"Your turn. What is your name, dear?" a female voice asked, reaching for her wrist, squeezing it gently. Her tone was sweet and deceiving, like the Forbidden Fruits, tempting her to reply.
Alexiel looked down, gazing at the face of a middle-aged woman of about thirty in human years with a pearly white smile, blonde hair, and hollow, blue eyes. A puppet. All the people in the other side of the booth shared similar features, as if they had been mass produced, but only that woman possessed the smile worthy of the toothpaste commercials she had watched during her time inside Setsuna.
What was happening here? Were they responsible for her disappearance? Narrowing her eyes, Alexiel swept off the blonde woman's touch and responded in her old, harsh voice:
"Alexi."
Without -el. There was no El to respond to anymore.
“Pretty name, darling. Here, I have something for you," the woman said with an annoying confidant tone and a wink, placing a matte grey object on the angel's hands. Alexiel blinked, staring blankly at the thin and rectangular gadget she was holding. For how it felt, it looked like one of those fancy computer devices her brother used to be fond of. "Oh, here some pamphlets too!" the lady exclaimed with her sugary tongue, offering several papers to the astonished Alexiel. "Everything you need to know about Paixao. Just be careful to wander about, there have been unpleasant attacks lately. Good luck, Miss Alexi!"
"Paixao?" Alexiel tried to ask (Attacks? she had really wanted to inquire), numbly securing the presents inside the pockets of her heavy cloak. That did not sound Jewish, Greek, Latin, or Enochian. Thus, it could not be made by God. He hated the new languages; they weren't fair enough for his archaic taste. "Excuse-"
"Next!"
Dumbfounded, the Organic Angel was beckoned from the line toward the Gate, wondering if those who kept them would be more inclined to dispel her doubts than the puppet people of the booth. But, as soon as she crossed the door, secure beneath the dome of the birdcage, her body paralyzed in realization.
The grass was false just like a piece of fine carpet made to comfort the tired feet of men. The flowers were jewels that shone too much to be considered truly beautiful, and the trees… Everything was incredibly fake.
Her head gave spins, disoriented by the misbalance of the elements. But Alexiel sensed it…
…that horrible, sickening feeling that she had been imprisoned once more.
Content: Once again, the Organic Angel finds herself imprisoned by the weakness of her own flesh and the power of an unknown place.
Setting: Atziluth and Joutenheim Gate.
Time: Morning.
Warnings: Spoilers for Angel Sanctuary ending & brief nudity (Alexiel was nude at the beginning because that is how she was in the original Manga).
The last thing she remembered was the warmth of Lucifer's arms and his loving stare as they embraced, cradled by the nurturing light emanated by the Adam Kadmon. The Demon Lord's four wings rustled softly, black feathers dancing on the air, surrounding the pair. God was dead. Rosiel had found peace. Creation was saved. The Holy Hermit had delivered his last message. Finally, they were free from their bloodstained fates.
You fought for the day you may hold me, didn't you? Foolish man.
Unfortunately, their joyous meeting was as swift as their farewell; one minute, Alexiel was feeling the brush of his lips moving over her phantom ones to lock their mouths in a fierce kiss –a heartbeat, they were one pulse fluctuating in the vast universe. Yet, the next one, she was violently returned into her immobile body: in the jail made of exalted flesh that lacked strength to move. She felt heavy like the mountains, unlike the lightness of the freedom of her soul, bound to the tapestry of the worlds yet again.
Setsuna, my chosen child, Savior… the Organic Angel called within her body, now pulsating with life and breath, with heartbeat and awareness of senses - pain and pleasure marked her rebirth. But her soft words never reached the Messiah; the connection between them was severed at the same time her lost astral powers washed over her still form.
At the beginning of the wave of self and wings, Alexiel could feel her birthplace, the enchanting Atziluth, the layers beneath it filled with life and death. She was an old acquaintance with the cold marble her body was laying on, the crisp air she breathed, and the fine clothes that concealed her skin.
Open your eyes, see the world, open your eyes and be born, the angel repeated whilst trying to unfold her hands from her belly, to lift her arms in order to fly or touch the ceiling of the Holy Tower. Or just to wiggle a finger. Anything but remain in stillness. Anything…
Slowly, Alexiel recovered the domain of her hearing; her ears rang with an uncomfortable buzz for a second before she heard Lucifer's exclamation - angry, loud, and unintentionally afraid.
Then, she heard nothing - nothing at all.
She numbly floated in darkness for a period of time she could not know. Angels never truly measured time too well; it was an irrelevant limit for those born to be timeless. Her mind drifted into her past lives, into her memories as angel, human, and fallen. Her drained limbs strengthened while her consciousness slept and she rested until the world became real around her.
Alexiel awoke, blinking thrice as she pulled herself up to survey where she had landed. It did not look or feel like Atziluth in the least, the air was notably less cool and there was something off she could not quite figure out yet. Weakened as she was, the angel was able to summon a grey cloak to cover her features, tame her unruly long hair beneath the hood, and, most important, conceal the mark on her breast under the layer of cloth. She could not risk being discovered by any creature that used to work with or against God.
From a distance, she could spot a line of people (Humans? Angels? Demons? She briefly wondered who and what they were) gathering to line up for a large booth. Far behind them, she could see where a grand Dome stood, beautifully crafted and highly mysterious about what could hold within. She felt no nature contained within, not even a whisper of fertile soil.
Impossible, she thought, shaking the sensation to be walking on sculpted glass.
Curious, Alexiel approached, joining the queue of creatures that appeared as confused as her. She did not interrogate them, for their look, they knew as much as her.
While she waited her turn, the angel inspected the gate of the dome. It was built with grandiose melodramatic flair, framed by two menacing giants, crossing their clubs together as if they guarded the entrance (or perhaps the exit).
She did not notice that the last person standing before her left, the Seraphita had been distracted in studying the surroundings, attempting to feel the place in despite her weakened strength – read the areas, sense the presence of angels or demons.
"Your turn. What is your name, dear?" a female voice asked, reaching for her wrist, squeezing it gently. Her tone was sweet and deceiving, like the Forbidden Fruits, tempting her to reply.
Alexiel looked down, gazing at the face of a middle-aged woman of about thirty in human years with a pearly white smile, blonde hair, and hollow, blue eyes. A puppet. All the people in the other side of the booth shared similar features, as if they had been mass produced, but only that woman possessed the smile worthy of the toothpaste commercials she had watched during her time inside Setsuna.
What was happening here? Were they responsible for her disappearance? Narrowing her eyes, Alexiel swept off the blonde woman's touch and responded in her old, harsh voice:
"Alexi."
Without -el. There was no El to respond to anymore.
“Pretty name, darling. Here, I have something for you," the woman said with an annoying confidant tone and a wink, placing a matte grey object on the angel's hands. Alexiel blinked, staring blankly at the thin and rectangular gadget she was holding. For how it felt, it looked like one of those fancy computer devices her brother used to be fond of. "Oh, here some pamphlets too!" the lady exclaimed with her sugary tongue, offering several papers to the astonished Alexiel. "Everything you need to know about Paixao. Just be careful to wander about, there have been unpleasant attacks lately. Good luck, Miss Alexi!"
"Paixao?" Alexiel tried to ask (Attacks? she had really wanted to inquire), numbly securing the presents inside the pockets of her heavy cloak. That did not sound Jewish, Greek, Latin, or Enochian. Thus, it could not be made by God. He hated the new languages; they weren't fair enough for his archaic taste. "Excuse-"
"Next!"
Dumbfounded, the Organic Angel was beckoned from the line toward the Gate, wondering if those who kept them would be more inclined to dispel her doubts than the puppet people of the booth. But, as soon as she crossed the door, secure beneath the dome of the birdcage, her body paralyzed in realization.
The grass was false just like a piece of fine carpet made to comfort the tired feet of men. The flowers were jewels that shone too much to be considered truly beautiful, and the trees… Everything was incredibly fake.
Her head gave spins, disoriented by the misbalance of the elements. But Alexiel sensed it…
…that horrible, sickening feeling that she had been imprisoned once more.