matejko » Lair » Raziel

Raziel

(#31047889)

Level 4 Wildclaw

Familiar

Armored Duskflapper

Energy: 0/50

Personal Style

Apparel

Skin

Scene

Physical Attributes

Battle Stats

Measurements

Length

4.36 m

Wingspan

6.32 m

Weight

526.06 kg

Genetics

Honey
Crystal

Honey
Facet

Radioactive
Glimmer

Hatchday

Feb 22, 2017
(7 years)

Breed

Adult
Wildclaw

Eye Type

Ice
Common

Level 4 Wildclaw

EXP: 59 / 4027

STR

AGI

DEF

QCK

INT

VIT

MND

Lineage

Parents

none

Offspring

none

Biography

....

................

G E N E S I S
R A Z I E L, keeper of secrets.
"can even a strong man be more pure than his maker?"

╭~~- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -~~ ABOUT ~~--- -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -~~╮

the ominous, omniscient presence who most often lurks in iophiel's stronghold, amassing and trading knowledge. not necessarily the leader, but most certainly the one the others look to for direction, raziel was the group's instigator towards an angelic form. though his outward appearance reflects an immediate impression of mischief and unsettling good spirits, he is in reality the most reserved and serious of the angels. he takes the responsibility of everyone's welfare with great importance and confidence, as their pseudo-creator, but he is also incredibly secretive in how he came about learning the ability to shape shift -- and that they may never return to their original forms.

he keeps to himself a language that only he knows, but stores in tomes within iophiel's library. much of the knowledge he returns is written in such, and is not relayed or explained despite very curious minds. there is indeed something mischievous and untrustworthy about his inner workings, but none of the other angels have ever done more than think it to themselves, without any hint of what it may actually be past a strange feeling.

he fails to pretend like he's not hopelessly in love with iophiel.

- - - -

❝ The recesses of Raziel's mind were often the opposite of recess, brimming not with chiming laughter and rancorous shouts of solidarity, but with a painful reminder of what was, like an empty playground, home only to worms of thought and scavengers of sanity. Everything that burrows in his head is his own, and he keeps it that way for the records, for the volumes of knowledge packratted away within the one place that not even Iophiel can reach. Some things are better off not being known, anyways.

Some say tragedy is beautiful, that the loveliest of blossoms bloom in the biting cold or in the blistering heat, and Raziel used to think it such nonsense, except, of course, when he met Iophiel, a tragedy in six parts. Despite Raziel being behind a literal mask, Iophiel wore one far more physical, a symmetrical visage with asymmetrical suffering, suffering being always skewed in favor of the purest ones.

Thinking of Iophiel as a condition rather than as Iophiel was a habit Raziel tried to stray from, but the long days of isolation the frost-tressed angel made within his self-made prison reminded Raziel that bodies, especially his, were burdens of the souls. Thinking of Iophiel also made bookkeeping so difficult, so difficult, in fact, that Raziel had to place his current tome on his desk, in which he had been penning a particularly pertinent theory. His fingers threaded through the blank pages of the tome, the blank weighing heavily on the right against the few pages of ink on the left, the weight of words lacking due to the insurmountable pining for something beyond letters and numerals and signs.

Several times Raziel tried to refocus himself on his writing, but each time found his pen trailing off to the side, as if it had a mind connected to its master. It had a better sixth sense than a hound, sensing in Raziel things that he himself couldn't. The pen tugged at his hand, leading it to the inkwell where it rested when not in use, and, reluctantly, Raziel buried the tip of it into the nightish liquid.

Like a butcher come for its next victim, Raziel forcefully pushed open the door to Iophiel's icy chamber, a tundra in terms of décor, but a bountiful forest of knowledge, and he stood in the threshold a moment, debating whether or not he wanted to advance. His footfalls were silent, barely there, but as he approached Iophiel, his head turned, not to face him, but to acknowledge Raziel's presence. A smile curled his lips, a playful pale blue ribbon of knowing against otherwise stoic white skin. Raziel's hands folded over his forearms, admittedly surprised by a delicacy such as a smile.

“I thought you might come today.” Iophiel spoke first, knowing Raziel's limitation as well as he knew his own. He still didn't face Raziel, and instead craned delicately over the book on the desk in front of him, his slender fingers tracing the corner of the page, apparent that he was not reading it. The smile dissipated.

With such a provocation, Raziel immediately sat on the chair adjacent Iophiel, his whole body turned toward him and his hands tucked neatly on his lap. At first the blue-eyed angel only cast Raziel a skewed glance, feigning contrariness, but, finally succumbing to the enduring yearning, the fingers that had previously been caressing the book page reached out to Raziel's caged fingers, gently prying them apart. Iophiel's hand fit perfectly within Raziel's and without hesitation, they enclosed around Iophiel's, protecting, not ensnaring it, like warm bandages. What ensued was silence as Iophiel's eyes returned to the tome and the other watched him, entranced, secretly, by the dancing blue ribbon on Iophiel's face, a sight far more arcane than the most beautiful and rare snow bloom. All that they needed to communicate was already done through one small but immense gesture, a gesture that, while salient in different ways to each of them, ultimately led to the same meaning: that they understood each other without words. ❞

-- @ ammut.

~~- - - - -~~ MISC ~~- - - - -~~

ARTWORK — X | X X | X | X | X | X | X | X X | X
MUSIC — X | X | X | X
ALLIES — iophiel, tzadkiel.

AESTHETICS — X | X | X
LIKES — n/a
DISLIKES — n/a

╰~~- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -~~╯

..............

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Exalting Raziel to the service of the Lightweaver will remove them from your lair forever. They will leave behind a small sum of riches that they have accumulated. This action is irreversible.

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