[hider=Former angel]
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[img]https://i.imgur.com/7WUzbLg.jpg[/img]

[b]N A M E :[/b]
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Unknown
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[b]A G E  O F  D E A T H :[/b]
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Unknown
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[b]R A C E :[/b]
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Human
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[b]G E N D E R :[/b]
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N/A
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[b]P S Y C H O L O G Y :[/b]
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They are full of wonder and fascination, hold an appreciation of life, but do not shy away from death. They are inclined to protect, help, and guide. Theirs is a duality: kind yet merciless, naive yet wise, patient yet decisive. Human, yet not.
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[b]W H A T  Y O U  C A N  R E M E M B E R :[/b]
[indent][sub][sub][sub][b][h3]S E R V I N G   G O D   I N   A   G O D L E S S   W O R L D
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[hider=Another image][img]https://i.imgur.com/3Iek4zJ.jpg[/img][/hider]
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A realm of light, order, purity. Celestials, the symbols of [i]constancy[/i] resided in a dimension which was paradoxically amorphous, ever-shifting, each iteration as brilliant as the other. Not one of them knew when they had been created, or how, or where their creator was. Yet all of them held the intrinsic understanding of their raison d’être. To uphold equilibrium, the foundation of existence, they did their part so the scales did not tip too far in either direction.

In a world with no god nor archfiend waged an endless war between angels and demons. Good versus evil, light versus darkness, selflessness versus selfishness. Those were human terms, mortal attempts at understanding the sublime, unknowable design. Heavenly beings did not need to think, or to ponder, only to act. The diligent, timeless cogs in the grand wheel of space, time, and everything that was.

They were just one such being, doing as was required. Dedication was a matter of course. Their utmost effort was expected, and they provided. As long as they did not stray from the charted course, all would be well.

[color=white][[b][u]1[/u][/b]] Spectral wings.[/color] Once, they were able to traverse realms, and cross dimension within the blink of an eye. Residing in a fleshly shell, all they can muster now is a set of spiritual wings. For a short duration, the summoned appendages grant them flight. In those brief moments, they are imbued with a near-weightlessness, moving with the ease of one who was born to fly.
[color=white][[u][b]2[/b][/u]] Light magic.[/color] A remnant of their divine powers, they can conjure light. It can be a gentle, calming glow as well as a burst of blinding, scorching heat. When wielded to injure, it can damage creatures corporeal or not. 
[color=white][[u][b]3[/b][/u]] [•Wsvzgzej][/color]
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[b]W H A T  Y O U  C A N ' T  R E M E M B E R :[/b]
[indent][sub][sub][sub][b][h3]T H E   D E A T H   O F   A N   I M M O R T A L
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[hider=The death of an immortal]An eon of fulfilling their duty, unflinchingly, unquestioningly, but by no means thoughtlessly. [i]Somehow[/i], somewhere along the line, the unthinkable happened. The perfect being who by their nature could not change – should not have been able to change – developed, grew. Something new formed in them. [i]A feeling.[/i]

Curiosity.

As with all anomalies among the celestials, this deviation was their undoing in the end. As with most such transgressions, it started with the tiniest of steps. A slight detour here, a benign moment of lingering there. Lending an ear to prayers instead of immediately offering them upon the altar of The One Who Was Gone. Taking the most infinitesimal peeks into the souls of the deceased before they were sent off on their journey to the afterlife.

Step by step, without an inkling that what they were doing might be considered treasonous, they found themselves in too deep to stop before it was too late. Once, they did the one thing they should not have ever done.

Once.

They intervened on the behalf of a mortal, not from a vast distance realms apart, but directly. They answered a woman’s desperate call for help. As soon as their being interacted with hers, they came to a realization.

Oh. It had been a ploy set up by demons. They, the masters of desire, had intuited a change, an opportunity. They had directed a stage play for their benefit. Well, it was a play only from the devils’ point of view. From the woman’s, it was a horrific, heart-wrenching reality, and she could not help but enact the given role of a maiden in distress. She had prayed and prayed, until her lips were chapped, until her throat cracked and bled, until her voice was lost, until her mind begun to fray, until there was an answer.

Their timeless enemy had sensed their presence. They took the chance, and slew the woman the instance their soul came in contact with the woman’s. 

When that happened, the two were one, sharing all between each other.

Just like humans weren’t meant to experience eternity for they would be driven mad by it, neither could an immortal bear the weight of a finite life perishing. It was overwhelming; the sensations, the grief, the guilt, the lost joys of past.

As the woman died, so too did the angel expire. 

So, this was what death was like.

Following that thought was a twofold regret.

One, that their foolishness had cost their allies a valuable asset, which would shift the balance of their eternal war for a few centuries at least.

Two, that the very moment of [i]learning[/i], the culmination of their [i]change[/i] was so short lived. Gone and there before they could properly grasp it. Yet that moment had been as rich as hundreds of thousands of years of their stagnant existence. How would it have been had they more [i]time?[/i]

For the first time, they experienced [i]longing[/i]. Desire. Want. The wish to [i]live[/i].[/hider]

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