War in Heaven

[ScottishMongol]

For 20,000 years the Garden Civilization flourished. There was no fear, pain, suffering, disease, or death in those days, save for among the witless beasts of the field. The Sustainers delved, wrought, and tended the Garden, and Humanity walked in it in bliss and communion with the divine, as it were a waking dream.

In those days the Angels went among Humanity in many forms and guises, and instructed them in the speaking of tongues, the names of every beast and plant, and the shape of the land. The Garden gave up its bounty freely, and no labor was in vain.

Then, the Angels who walked among Humanity taught them such things as they were not meant to know. Humanity grew wise, and began to shape the Garden to their own ends. Fields were tilled, beasts were bred and slaughtered. Clay was fired into bricks, and a great city rose amid the Garden. Humanity learned metalworking, writing, and magic.

Some of the Angels looked on these changes and were glad, seeing, as they thought, Humanity growing in wisdom and stature. And others looked, and saw the shadow of sin come into the Garden, and were afraid of greater evils that may come. And others witnessed this and kept their own council. - Third Book of Angels, Chapter 1

***

This is the story of the War in Heaven, a struggle between Angelic beings to right Creation. You play as those Angels, given authority over a world and the mortals therein, after the convocation of Angels has shattered under the strain of managing an increasingly unmanageable cosmos.

In the beginning, the Angels had the Divine Plan inscribed into their being by the Voice of God. The Divine Plan is like an Angel's source code, it is what animates and drives them and allows them to wield authority over Creation. No Angel contains a complete copy of the Divine Plan, but rather contains a fragment. Each fragment is different from the next, accounting for variations in tastes and personalities. One Angel may be inscribed with parts of the Divine Plan correlating to fire, which gives them understanding of, and power over, that element, while another may favor ice.

Angels are spiritual beings, but for the purposes of dealing with mortals many Angels choose to take on physical form. Their forms are changeable and are to them as clothing is to us. Some take on the guise of mortals, some have wings, others have the heads of animals, some are fiery wheels covered in eyes. Angels have no inherent gender, but may choose forms that allow them to be perceived as male or female. Angels can be killed, both body and soul, by other Angels. This sets them apart from Humans and Sustainers, whose souls persist after death (this is a great mystery to the Angels). When an Angel is killed spiritually, they shatter into dozens or even hundreds of lesser spirits, reduced in power and possessing only a shadow of their former personalities.

God in this cosmology is not an active personality or a participant in the War in Heaven – He is more like the Spinozist conception of God, or Aristotle's Prime Mover; the creator and sustainer of all things. God sustains Creation through the Divine Light, which emanates from the Throne of God.

Angels draw their power from the Divine Light as well, which presents itself through them in two ways: the Left Hand of Justice, and the Right Hand of Mercy.

The Left Hand of Justice represents divine wrath and punishment, yet it also represents truth, service, discernment, and restraint.

The Right Hand of Mercy represents divine blessings, yet it also represents wisdom, kindness, and patience.

There are four factions of Angels, defined by their relationship to the Divine Light. The primary cause of the War in Heaven was Humanity, their sinfulness and ambition, and their growing capablity to reshape Creation around them. Every faction has strong opinions on how to deal with Humans, from nurturing their growth to utterly destroying them, and it is this conflict that will continue to shape your interactions and motivations.

Heavenly Host
"Holy holy holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come."

Holding the balance between the Left and Right Hands, the Heavenly Host are loyalists to the Throne of God. They work from behind the scenes, guiding Humanity carefully by selecting prophets and rulers, and only rarely do they wield punishment when necessary to prevent greater evil.

The Heavenly Host believe that Humans are important to the fulfillment of the Divine Plan and must be allowed to grow and develop on their own, with careful guidance. Civilizations under the influence of the Heavenly Host tend to be dominated by organized religions with codes of law.

Archons
"The wages of sin is death."

Adhering solely to the Left-Hand path, Archons believe Humans are fundamentally sinful and must be controlled in order to prevent them from bringing greater suffering into the world. They rule over Humanity the most directly, creating strictly-regimented societies in which life is controlled from cradle to grave.

The Archons believe that if left unguided, Humans will corrupt and destroy everything they touch. However, one cannot deny their strength of will and creative potential – they simply need direction. A small minority of radical Archons believe that Creation should be completely destroyed and that the Angels should start again from the beginning.

Watchers
"Do as thou wilt."

Adhering solely to the Right-Hand path, the Watchers believe that not only should Humans be left to their own devices, but the Angels should foster their development. The most likely to be taken by Humans as gods, Watchers typically live among Humans as teachers and prophets. They hand out forbidden knowledge to their followers and partake in the pleasures of the flesh, creating half-Angel hybrids.

The Watchers believe that Humans and Angels should share in the fulfillment of the Divine Plan, and direct Humans in the construction of great works, but have no interest in taking responsibility for ruling them, and do not control or restrain their subjects. At best, Watchers can be generous, permissive, and even loving figures – at worst, they are indulgent and capricious.

Archdevils
"Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven."

Archdevils are broken Angels, severed wholly from the Divine Light. Lacking either the Left or the Right Hand, Archdevils are solipsistic narcissists, more to be pitied than hated. The Archdevils believe themselves to be true gods, and yet no amount of worship or sacrifice will fulfill them; for if all love flows from God, then Archdevils cannot feel love, and are thus incapable of it in return.

Archdevils hate Humans, finding them of little use as anything other than things to be used for their amusement. The domains of Archdevils are inevitably self-consuming.

Lesser Spirits

The Angels are served by hosts of lesser spirits, adopting the characteristics of those they follow. They are messengers, guardians, and workers in the spiritual world, and Humans know them as nature spirits, guardian angels, household gods, and spirit guides. They are normally not powerful enough to take physical form, but can sometimes inhabit parts of the material world such as animals, trees, or stones, and can even possess Humans or Sustainers.

Sustainers

In the early days of Creation, the Angels raised up the Sustainers, living races who maintained the Garden for uncounted ages before Humans appeared. Sustainers come in many forms; Beastfolk (think uplifted animals), Elves, Dwerrow, Goblins, Djinn, Ghouls, Merfolk, etc. Servitors do not die of old age, but can be killed with violence. They generally live apart from Humans in their own civilizations. They have closer relationships to the Angels and sometimes serve them directly. Sustainers dedicate their whole lives to their proscribed roles with dedication and skill that surpasses Human ability, and lack Humanity's raw ambition – but in exchange they are more rigid and less versatile than Humans.

Demons are a new form of Sustainer, created as soldiers to fight the War in Heaven. Although they are beings of passion and violence, demons are not inherently evil. They are a living race, and as such can reproduce and die like any other.

Humans

Sweaty, hairless, upright apes, Humans are ambitious and willful, prone to sin and ignorance, shockingly cruel at times...yet also charitable, noble, and possessed of a Divine Spark which gives them capable of great creative potential. They are fragile creatures that contain good and evil in equal measure. All Angelic factions agree that Humans are important, perhaps even central to the Divine Plan, they simply disagree on what is to be done about this.

Angels, taking physical form, can procreate with Humans (and Sustainers) and give rise to half-Angelic children who inherit some of the stature and power of their Angelic parents. There are numerous types; Nephilim, Succubi, Demigods, etc.

***

The War in Heaven is taking place across all of Creation, but you are striving against each other for control of a single planet. Your actions will guide the course of history, cause the rise and fall of civilizations, religions, and cultures. You wield the powers of creation and destruction, and the stakes are nothing less than every soul on this planet.

Submit an Angel character. Spots are limited, and I will be selecting for players who show an understanding of and willingness to engage with the themes and cosmology.

Template

Name: (Real-world mythology provides us with huge lists of angels, demons, and other spiritual beings from every culture; recall that many Angels could be mistaken for gods.)
Faction: (Choose one of the four factions outlined above; if desired, note whether you are a moderate or a radical.)
Aspects: (Angels have characters and personalities that emerge from their natures, which are equivalent to a god's domain or a portfolio.)
Form: (Angels can take any physical form they desire and change at will, but you may wish to associate your Angel with an appearance they favor.)
Bio: (Describe in brief your Angel's personality, history, and desires.)

JOIN THE DISCORD​

 

[Red Robyn]

Zerachiel, the Avenging Angel
WRATH OF GOD
Faction: Archons
Aspects:
Justice, Wrath, PUNISHMENT. VENGEANCE.
Form: A man, with dark skin and grey wings perpetually covered in ash wings. His hair is of flowing red fire, his eyes golden dots in a pool of lava. He is constantly weeping, be for Rage or Grief.
Bio:​

Unlike the heavenly detachment and orderly thought that is expected of an angel of the Archons, Zachariel is an emotional and irrational being, full of compassion for the mortal races plagued by Sin. His is not the role of a passive observer beholden to watch impassionate their suffering; Zachariel is an Avenger, fashioned by the Left Hand of Justice to mete out Wrath upon the sinners.

Anger. This is Zachariel's driving motion. It is anger which leads him to detest wickedness and it is anger that makes him resent humanity for being so... influenceable to the whispers of Devils. It is anger that makes him despair at the pitable state of Creation--and anger that secretely drives him to end it all and remake it anew, free of evil.

Rage against Himself, Humanity and God. Rage against the Sin that is this imperfect world, in which imperfect beings dwell.

 

[Furrybacon]

I am the pestilence and plague
In your house, in your bed
In your streams, in your streets
In your drink, in your bread
on your cattle, on your sheep
on your oxen in your field
In your dreams, in your sleep
Until you break, until you yield
I am the swarm, I am the horde
Sent by the Lord

Name: Aerico

Faction: Heavenly Host

Aspects: PLAGUE. PARASITE. PESTILENCE. PANDEMIC.

Form:

​

Bio:

When Aerico looks into the Divine Plan, they sees the process of cellular division. The mutation of symptoms. The infection of bodies. The great masses of those condemned to choke and cough and many many many worse synptoms. Aerico sees this and weeps. And Obeys. The Process is the Command.

The choice of where the plague spreads does not fall to Aerico, nor does the choice of its symptoms or its victims. Wherever sickness infects the mortal plain, you may find Aerico, pious and devoted, watching the process and weeping for its effects. Despite having the power to influence plague, Aerico had alwats watched. Aerico, The Process is the Command. For all it has pained them, for every millennium Aerico has lived with all they has seen, All they are responsible for, Aerico remains stoic and wholly devoted to the Divine Plan. Melancholic and solemn, but utterly devoted. Every terrible sweeping sickness that has stolen the lives of mortal paupers and princes, of innocents and mongers, must be for some great purpose. There must have been some point to it all in the Divine Plan. That is the Faith of Aerico.

But some question that Faith. The Divine Plan.

Do they not know all that Aerico has done in the name of God? The Terrible processes that they have seen and put into motion? The anguish of having the power, but refusing to use it to comply with a divine Command? Oh they of Little Faith, they will weep and claw at their necks as Aerico takes charge of the processes that he has long since watched. An Epoch of observation has ended. Aerico has watched a million plagues and mutations be added to his legion, and understands the process like no other creature. To smite the foes of God, to see their pestilence ravege those who for the first time in history truely deserve to choke and sputter, brings a smile to the somber seraphim. A great Reaping shall come. By Sword and Symptom, Aerico shall deliver it.

The Process is the Command.

Aerico does not consort with Humans as others do. They will watch, they will weep, but they has never intervened. Aerico, not that they would admit it, fears their own power, and fears growing too close to humankind would result in unsanctioned sicknesses. Instead, he spends his time among angels or among Those-That-Swarm, humanoid sustainers made of tens of hundreds of thousands of worms and flies and vermin which spread sickness and plague covered beneath their dark cloaks.

 

[Another Amoeba]

Kalmatotec
​

Faction: Radical Watcher "Humankind is a boat on the sea, but they might be skilled sailors. They are at the mercy of the wind, yet they could chart a profitable course."
Aspects: Rot, that moment in which new life springs up to hasten the destruction of something already dead. The liminal turning-over of lifeless things.
Form: Most comfortable with a clearly inhuman but humanoid appearance, Kalmatotec will take on human personas whenever their work demands it, but with no preference at all to form.

Bio: All things live but once before the judgement day, but life exists as a tumbling cycle. rolling forward and onward, crushing itself with itself. Kalmatotec exists in the mushroom, the vulture, and the whalefall. In their happiest world, they might have existed only as a nature spirit, a primal being primarily concerned with their beloved fungi. Even today, much of their portfolio concerns processes of the natural world (and they often trouble humankind because of it, sympathy for the farmer not entirely displacing sympathy for the mycelium). However, with the birth of humanity, propriety demands they level the scales against God's favored children in a more radical fashion.

Even the grandest work of human hands is a rock worn down by the river. They could build a basilica of marble on the mountain peak and Kalmatotec will live to see its collapse, but they will really only make an effort to rise up against a society that is already dead. Princedoms grow stale, rigid, cruel, and overbearing. When a certain motive spark is no longer found within the brows of kings and priests, Kalmatotec takes to the street to find it. It is satisfying in a venial way to lay the judgement against befuddled tyrants who forgot what they were doing years ago, and to walk among the humans prepared to burst forth like a seedling from the soil to replace them.

Kalmatotec is somewhat anarchistic and has a healthy distaste for organized religion. Only the most basic, spiritual, and pure societies lack those moribund institutions whose slow death they oversee. They tend to see their actions as only embodying perfectly natural cycles; their direct intervention merely symbolic of what was already coming to pass.

 

[Scrivener]

QUELRION​

FACTION: ARCHDEVIL
ASPECTS: KINGSHIP, LAW, JUDGEMENT, PUNISHMENT, TRUTH, LIES, HATE, HATE, HATE
FORM: A fourth-dimensional corpse passing through three-dimensional space. As a result, her true form is incomprehensible to mortals, who instead perceive her as a massive alien superstructure, as corridors, pipes, columns, and stairs. The tower of Babel has a certain lawful symmetry to it, but it is a symmetry that is disrupted by the gaping holes left by the War in Heaven. Once she had wings of light, arms, legs, hands, a body, but that was a long time ago.​

They called her Arael, once. Leader of fifty-three Angelic legions. Teacher of over seventy languages to the Sustainers at the dawn of creation. Judge of the Scales.

She believed in the goodness of God and His Divine Plan, and for that she was an Angelic judge; no, not any mere Angelic judge, but the Judge of the Watchers, one who's knowledge of the rule and law of the Divine Plan extended beyond all others. And so she was commanded by events set in motion a period of time so long ago it was incomprehensible to even her to go down to humanity and grant their rightful kings wisdom and might.

So she descended and met with a peasant child, the future leader of a small tribe that would grow to become one of the world's mightiest empires. He was an attentive student, diligent in his work and filled with idealism. She knew he would build a great city, the greatest humanity had ever known. The fragment of the Divine Plan within her hummed in contentment.

Then he had decided to conquer one of his neighbors, failed, and got himself killed in the process. So she tried again. And she failed again. Over and over and over.

These humans, these fleshy beings that the Divine Plan had created, just what made them so special? They lied, they stole, they fought among each other over petty trinkets. Their great cities formed not because of a desire to build architecture but out of a desire to band together to protect themselves from adversaries. There was nothing good about them, there was nothing right or just. Why then did they persist?

She shoved her objections down her throat and continued on. To question herself was to question her purpose.

Was the War in Heaven inevitable? She judged the scales and thought not. Surely God, whoever He was, when he had set things in motion all those years ago, had foreseen such a conflict and shifted the chain of events that stretched onwards into the future in such a way to avoid this fate. So she quietly kept her head down and followed the instructions inscribed into her very soul. When a prince desired companionship she was there for him, when an emperor desired consul she gave it to him knowing he would ignore it.

But the ongoing conflict between the Angels grew and grew, until out of desperation Arael called for a great Convocation of Angels, which she as greatest of the Angelic Judges would oversee. Whatever would come had to be stopped, the links in the chain had to be broken, the process of backsliding had to be slowed. The Divine Plan depended on it. Creation depended on it. She loved her sisters and would not let them fight amongst each other.

She never managed to slow the process. She only accelerated it.

Arael never fought in the War in Heaven. She was its first casualty. When the first Archons and Watchers threw themselves at each other she had stepped in between them, pleading for peace. Her heart was gored with an Archon's sword and her head was speared with a Watcher's blade. No one thought to recover her. Her broken body and dead mind was left abandoned in space, drifting for uncountable millenia.

The head is the seat of the soul. Hers was irrevocably damaged. And it was here that she finally brought the courage to let her long-held doubts come to the forefront of her mind and question why, why had this happened, why had she failed in her duties, what was the point of all of this, why had the War in Heaven, where brother turned on sister and creation was rent asunder, had happened, why?

And the answer was simple:

The reason why the War in Heaven happened, despite the efforts of thousands of Angels, was not due to the failures of the Seraphim. It was because the War in Heaven was fated to happen.

And Fate was decided by God when the universe was born.

God wanted the War in Heaven to happen.

She screamed. And around her, all the stars went dark.

 

[ORE]

"I looked, and there before me was a white horse! Its rider held a bow, and he was given a crown, and he rode out as a conqueror bent on conquest."


Name: Shyrr

Faction: Moderate Watcher

Aspects: War, Conquest, Victory, Ambition, Hubris, Empire

Form: Shyrr is often depicted as a soldier on a white horse, or a winged apparition of victory, yet in truth they prefer more incognito forms: a humble soldier, an eagle overhead. Shyrr is not nearly as good at avoiding attention as they think they are, and hosts they observe are usually very aware they are being observed even if they're not sure from where.

Bio:​

Somewhen, it will be written the manner that the end will occur and the role the white rider will play in it. However, the white rider got tired of waiting. A Watcher, though not an ideological one, just having fun, and doing what they're supposed to do! Who cares about schedules anyways.
Shyrr loves young empires and ambitious conquerors, riding in their host, inspiring their tactics, spurring then on to just one more campaign. The civilizations Shyrr inspired grow meteorically, and crash like stars. This doesn't bother them, they have no interest on ruling humanity or dealing with the humdrum of running an empire- it is the forging that's fun, and they're always onto the next one.

 

[Taricus]

Name: Sozeubek
Faction: Watcher (Moderate)
Aspects:
Statecraft, Administration, Kingship, Fatherhood (Unofficially)
Form: Rarely stays in one form for too long (For reasons)
Bio: ​

Kingdoms, City-States and other forms of government. The ever-ongoing work of knowing what a political group has in terms of resources and knowing how to distribute them, and else sustain and organise a large grouping of servitors or human; This is the purpose of Sozubek; The Angel of Kingship (And actually governing), the mentor of tribal chiefs, magistrates and kings in the art of statecraft; For no great edifice to God nor grand celebration of faith in him may be done by a single sustainer or human alone. To muster the labour and resources to properly cherish Him and each other, and to further explore the wonders of His greatest work.

It is in this that Sozeubek does his part for the Divine Plan; To raise the edifice of state to create civilisations and cultures to span the Garden and to watch and observe them grow, evolve, adapt and change. Regardless of whether they're polities of servitors or humans, Sozeubek cherishes, teaches and loves them all equally, and in turn, Sozeubek is seen as a father of kings and nations.

Which may have a literal truth to it; Sozeubek is indeed fond of mortals, and fond enough to be the progenitor of a great many half-angelic beings in the Garden. Perhaps enabled as some flaw in the divine plan or perhaps just an unintended factor on teaching kingship, the truth remains that Sozubek is possessed of a... taste for mortals, and significantly so. And so Sozeubek wanders the Garden in physical form, sampling what the servitors and humans have made, and fulfilling his part of the Divine Plan

 

[Theaxofwar]

The Sea Monster, The White Serpent, The Beast of Envy
Leviathan
​

Faction: Archdevil
Aspects: Rivers, Rain, Agriculture, Games, the Seas, Envy
Form: Look upon this prison of stinking flesh and despair.

Every Angel has a place in the divine plan, but Leviathan would tell you all roles were not made equal. While others were granted grand domains over knowledge or war or civilization, Leviathan's job was the maintenance of a particular riverbed that would become a birthplace for human agriculture. They had to ensure the regular and consistent flooding of the river, prevent soil erosion, ensure that the founder crop survived and remained prevalent, and watch over any humans that settled the region. For Leviathan, the whole thing was incredibly, unbearably boring.

Their one refuge was in games. Starting with little games of skill and luck with their co-workers and sustainers to pass the time, Leviathan found with some surprise that, more often than not, they would win. And in these victories, they realized they could rise above their station. No one angel knew all of the divine plan, and Leviathan themself knew very little. But knowledge was power and privilege, and if they could gamble well they could gather enough of it to rise above their station.

In order to carry out this plan, Leviathan needed time. They could not be distracted with their menial daily tasks while gambling for things the humans they watched over could not even comprehend. Thus, they would make the occasional bet with the humans as well. If the humans would, Leviathan would grant them any wish in their power, and if Leviathan won the humans would suffer their overseers neglect in silence. Of course, Leviathan didn't win every time, but when they lost they knew the humans would just ask for an especially blessed harvest or immortality or things of that nature. When Leviathan won, they would be free to go off and gamble without being snitched on by the hairy apes below.

The plan worked perfectly until it didn't. One day, Leviathan was making a gamble with a human man, a simple game of dice. It was as close to a game of pure luck as it could get, and as occasionally happened in such cases, Leviathan lost. Yet, this man did not wish for good harvests or immortality. His family had starved after a long drought, the man explained. His friends had been swallowed by the irregularly flooding river. When he had finally managed to rebuild, a disease had swept through his crops and killed them all. The man himself knew he would die soon, for he had no food and was too weak to do more than roll dice. But he would ensure Leviathan could never neglect his work again.

The man wished that Leviathan be bound to this world. He wished that they would have no legs to walk away from their tasks with and no hands with which to roll dice. He wished that they be bound to the waters that were their duty, and that they would have no choice but to bring life-giving rain down around them.

On and on the man went, and in horror Leviathan found their powers turning against them. They had bound themselves to the rules of the game, and they could no more deny the man his winnings than he could have grown wings and flown under his own power. Their form shifted and shook, twisted into a monstrous body of meat and bone. Yet, the man made one mistake. He had not forced a promise of his own safety from Leviathan, and so in desperation, before the man could bind the angel in servitude, Leviathan crushed him under their growing form.

On that day, something new was unleashed upon the world. As the changes finally stopped, Leviathan found himself bound to this new, disgusting form, forced to roam the seas that had become his home. In a rage, he drowned the people he was meant to cultivate in a massive flood, sweeping them all out into the sea. But expressions of wrath could not free him from his self-made curse. For that he needed power beyond himself.

In his desperation, he went to an angel far above him in the hierarchy, whose mission it was to watch over the oceans of the world. Leviathan challenged them to a simple game, a hunt with their lives and all their knowledge of the divine plan on the line. Whether that angel took the deal out of mercy or wrath could not be said, but both knew that the contest would end in Leviathan's death.

And yet, after the two hunted and chased and battled for months on end, it was Leviathan who came out victorious. As his foe died, the compulsion of the gamble drew knowledge from angelic lips. Thus, Leviathan learned the secret name of God that controlled the oceans, and yet he found that he had lost so much more. Having acted with neither mercy nor justice, Leviathan was severed from the Divine Light.

Such was the Beast of Envy, the Archdevil Leviathan, born.

 

[Always Watching]

"And the angel came in unto her, and said, Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women. And when she saw him, she was troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be.

And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with God. And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus. He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest: and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David: and he shall reign over the house of Jacob for ever; and of his kingdom there shall be no end.

Then said Mary unto the angel, How shall this be, seeing I know not a man? And the angel answered and said unto her, The Holy Ghost shall come upon thee, and the power of the Highest shall overshadow thee: therefore also that holy thing which shall be born of thee shall be called the Son of God. And, behold, thy cousin Elisabeth, she hath also conceived a son in her old age: and this is the sixth month with her, who was called barren. For with God nothing shall be impossible."
​

Name: Gabriel
Faction: Heavenly Host (The MOST Moderate)
Aspects: Messengers. Prophets. Communication. Serpents. Voices.
Form: Gabriel, perhaps more than most angels, is truly formless. Indeed, his form is defined by others, taking the appearance of whatever makes the listener most likely to heed his message. Best not to mistake this for subtlety, however. For the vision of someone who can sway you with naught but appearance is the surest sign of Gabriel.

Bio: The Archangel Gabriel, standing over Paradise and above all other powers is very... very... very tired.

Messenger to all Angels, Gabriel and his multitudes was responsible for keeping all Angels connected and ensuring that all moved in harmony with each other. Every angel has met Gabriel personally once, at minimum. In meeting them, Gabriel came to know them. And in knowing them, Gabriel came to love each and every Angel. He loved them all and in loving them came to love Creation itself.

It was folly, really. To think that in knowing and loving all angels who gathered under Heaven's banner, Gabriel could come to know the Divine Plan itself. But it certainly engendered a resolute faith in God and the Voice of Creation.

So as humanity came all too unexpectedly and the slight disquiet began to arise in Heaven, Gabriel was the first to know of it. And the first to try and soothe with reassurances, with comfort, with absolute FAITH in God.

It wasn't enough.

Now Gabriel sits beside the Throne of God, alongside the rest of the Heavenly Host. He prosecutes the war as the mightiest of its Angels, facing all those he once loved so deeply on all manner of fronts. Despite this, Gabriel is unwavering in his commitment to the Divine Plan. Gabriel will not rest until the rogue elements of Heaven are brought into line, imprisoned, or discorporated, and God's Will can be safely enacted once more.

Even though he could probably do with a great deal of rest. Once, confronting those he loved and withstanding how they insisted that THEIR way is the only true path left would burden Gabriel with a heavy grief.

Now he's just tired.

Very... Very... Very tired.

---

"For those of us with divine ordainment, extermination means entertainment!"
​

Name: Abraxas
Faction: Archon (Radical Sympathetic)
Aspects: Survival. Protection. Male Sexuality, Fertility, & Reproduction.
Form: Abraxas is undeniably male, for all that he was responsible for helping to define masculinity as a concept and tying it to it's role in procreation. What's more interesting is the way he is himself split down the middle, on an esoteric level. In every one of his forms, Abraxas contains duality, fully capable of moving independent of each other. Even when taking on a more typical angelic form, his twin halves show both human and holy features.

Bio: Abraxas was an angel dedicated to crafting and maintaining the natural laws that would dictate the wilderness of Creation. It was Abraxas who created the notion of Survival of the Fittest, ensuring that those most fit to their environment would thrive in their niche, and that they would never stray from it. And it was Abraxas who ensured that all would be able to best defend themselves from the predations of others, in one form or another.

For in order to honor God, and continue the start of the long chain of causality that had formed Abraxas and all the other Angels, Abraxas knew he would need to create beings that could sustain each other. Energy would need to be transferred, and life renewed over and over again.

To make this a reality, Abraxas would also compose one half of the duality that would make up reproduction within Creation. Abraxas would hone his craft on Sustainers, designing and shaping their reproduction as prototypes for when Mankind would emerge into the Garden, and fully manifest the richness of what he envisoned Man could be.

Abraxas' goal for his half was that of a relentless challenger, something that could outlast, outcompete, and survive in a world that Abraxas knew would be challenging, for he had designed each one of those challenges himself. When the time came for the two halves to meet, he knew that his creation would do whatever it takes to safeguard the other and ensure healthy progeny for the future.

When Man turned upon Man, they began to destroy and oppress each other instead of uplifting one another. It was then Abraxas knew something had gone wrong. But his ecosystems were perfect. Creation was perfect. The problem, Abraxas ultimately concluded, was in the humans themselves.

Abraxas was not unfamiliar with invasive species, those that through chance overreached and disturbed the delicate ecosystems by ranging far from where they had been meant to grow. With just how relentlessly humans had proven to expand, it was clear that the same solution Abraxas had employed then was needed now. A cull.

When the Archons formed, Abraxas was first among their number. Through direct interaction with humans, Abraxas saw even more evidence that they needed to be ruled directly and with an iron fist. But more than that, their tendency towards rebellion required more than culling, it required that the culling be grand. Memorable. A spectacle. Something that played directly into that strange human inclination towards creativity and sear their minds with memories of what disobedience held.

Abraxas would rise into this role with aplomb, becoming an executioner whose exterminations were so flashy that they annihilated the notion of dissent. Though as the Archons' harsh guidance of humanity was challenged, Abraxas would also find himself an excellent soldier.

Abraxas' time spent defending the Archonite framework of Creation would earn him experience in killing and imprisoning angels who sought to challenge him. The weight of all the fighting has begun to drag on Abraxas, however. He now sees within the conflict the same flaws that he first saw take root within humanity, and fears what they might bring if allowed to bloom fully within the Angels. Abraxas' desire for a concrete answer has recently seen him willing to lend an ear to more Radical voices in the Archons, who call for one last Revelation that could guide Creation to it's ideal state.

---

"Summer is good. It's a season for ripe food. A season for maggots."
​

Name: Beelzebub
Faction: Archdevil
Aspects: Consumption. Knowledge. Predator. Prey. Vermin. Offerings.
Form: Beelzebub is especially formless, but flies are the things he is most associated with. When bothering to take the guise of a human or an angel, he adopts something akin to an old man, experienced and weathered with grey hair, yet bedecked in fine military regalia of an age that hasn't come yet. In Beelzebub's opinion, this particular apparance makes him look especially dashing and wise.

Bio: The Lord of the Flies is a sick and disgusting thing. But he is wise. Wise beyond measure. He knows the taste of shit on the tongue, torrid and bitter. He knows the joy of maggots gorging on infected wounds, and the agony that it can send spasming through a body. He knows what humans truly want, is to feast. Feast and feast and feast and fuck if only so they can feast upon what comes crawling from their loins afterwards. Creation existing only so that it can be consumed by himself. What a joy! What ecstasy! What endless flavors Creation can offer.

For all his bottomless gluttony, Beelzebub considers himself a gourmet. An epicurian. The very first, in fact. He was responsible for guiding the process of consumption, for ensuring that energy can be taken and then spread further by constant and ceaseless killing. It was for his meat and plants that Cain slew Abel.

What could have happened to make someone that loved its kin so deeply and dearly turn so horrid? What could set an Angel onto the path of damnation. What makes a monster like Beelzebub?

It all happened so suddenly.

One day, a human found Beelzebub, and approached him with the question of 'Why?'.

And for a creature that had not once questioned its role within Creation, there was the sudden dread of not knowing an answer.

But also the realization of knowing HOW to find out.

And so to understand the 'Why?', an Angel gorged on the flesh of Man. A ripe and juicy fruit containing the knowledge of Good and Evil.

And in consuming, did Beelzebub know.

And in consuming, did Beelzebub fall.

And in consuming, will Beelzebub rise.

That is the end goal of Beelzebub. The consumption of God. The utter ravening of Creation. The sublimation of all things into himself, so that he might KNOW them with utmost certainty.

---

"And then along came Zeus."
​

Name: Zeus
Faction: Watchers (Moderate)
Aspects: Law. Hospitality. Lightning. The Sky.
Form: While Zeus is perhaps more fond of any than shifting his form and features, the one he takes most often is that of an older man with stark white hair clad in a simple toga, with the horns of a bull jutting from the sides of his head.

Bio: Once confined to the skies, Zeus couldn't help but gaze with great affection upon the humans he had such a great viewpoint on. Able to see their best and worst, Zeus was one of the first Watchers to strike out from the Heavenly Host to better intermingle with these incredible creatures. Now Zeus visits boons and bounty aplenty upon the humanity. Stealing away to learn as much as he could from the first humans within the Garden, Zeus is more aware than most of Humanity's capability for sin. But they are also capable of such glorious wonders. Such things that even the Angels could learn from.

Zeus is still insistent on some rules for humanity. But for the most part he leads and enforces by example, organizing his fellow Watchers underneath himself, and visiting the royalty of humanity in the night. Learning as much as he teaches, Zeus' latest notion is that the human idea of kingship is a blessed new creation, one that he'll see spread amongst the angels. With himself as monarch supreme, naturally. Zeus is generous indeed, a patriarch intent on gifting the gods (the lowercase 'g' is important there, a new class of teachers that Zeus is insistent is the new role Angels shall take in this new anthropocene) the notion of human royalty, and humanity the blessing of his guidance.

 

[Princess_Hex]

Khurshid​

Faction: Radical Heavenly Host
Aspects: Healing and Poison, Lies and Promises, Kindness and Mercy

Form: Khurshid has a very steady form by which she is instantly recognisable. Followers find themselves sheltered in the coils of a mighty snake tail, atop which is the body of a woman. The exact details of her humanlike body are hard to remember, if they can be perceived at all, instead all one is left with is a feeling of softness and warmth. Her scales are most often black, a harsh contrast to white robes and a heavenly visage.

Bio:
A font, a spring of life anew, life which overflows from its bounds and spreads out into the world. The sun seems to cherish this clearing, its light lingering within it long after it has fled the surrounding forest. Should you walk the right path, hold the right convictions in your heart, perhaps you might find it.

It is the home of an angel, Khurshid. If you were to bring her your sick, your wounded, you dying, she would heal them. You could see the relief wash over their face as they are freed of pain, freed of fear. Such are the miracles that happen often in that secluded grove, a place of wonder neverending. The warmth there is said to be of greater comfort than one's own hearth, to give a sense of place and belonging so great that one might never wish to leave.

They do leave, however, for all must return and serve in their role. To be granted reprieve is a blessing, to try to monopolise it is a sin.

As for those who seek the grove with malice or greed in their hearts, their words dripping with lies and disdain, they are simply never heard from again.

Khurshid is quiet, for she knows the weight of every word spoken. All that is said is either a promise that is bound in steel, or a lie, and neither should be said lightly. Within her grove she has become secluded from the Heavenly Host, and has drifted further and further from the orthodoxy. With powers like hers, it was only a matter of time.

All must be healed, all must be brought into balance. The universe and all of its plans will be brought back into alignment, with grace and mercy, kindness and compassion, poison and death.

 

[AKuz]

Name: -, T̶̪͙̩͛͒͊̋̓̎̊̇̕͠h̶͇͕͓͖̥̅̏̉͋̀͗̑́̑̎̈͛̄e̵̩̪̽͗̆ ̸͕̖̼͓̯̣͓̗͈͕̋̈́́́͊͐̒̇͛͐͘̚ͅD̴̡̠̣͖̘̟̯̬͚̺̦͔͑̽͛̒̒͐͐̏̈́͠a̷̡̩͈͚̜̍̍̓͌͝͠w̵͈̘͕̫̳͑́n̸͖͔̼̮̈͊͘ş̷̛̩͍̜̭̹̰͔̐͒̔͒̑͆̊͠ṭ̴̛̺͈͉̅͂͋͐́̀̒̓̌̀̕͘ǎ̷̧̱͙͉̺͙̹̺̗̟̘̓̐͂͠r̵̰̫̲͖͈̙̺̰̲̿͋̚

(As T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ fell and her nature inverted, her name was sealed away and removed from creation, even her epithet was burned in her fall, charred and half-forgotten by creation)

Faction: The First and Greatest Archon. The First and Greatest Archdevil.

Aspects: Formerly [Romantic Love. Marriage. Female Sexuality, Fertility, and Reproduction], now [Subjugation], [Spite]

Form: Once beautiful to look at, gentle starlight at dawn in the form of a woman with an angelic wingspan seemingly the size of nebulae and just as iridescent.

T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ now lies affixed to the depths of the Earth, driven though with seven spears of light and wrapped with seven chains of celestial iron that glow white hot with the fury of her hatred that boils under her void black skin with coal red intensity.

Hissing from her spear wounds come an unending stream of bright red blood which seeps into the surrounding soil and from there into the diets of men. Wings that once spanned galaxies are burnt down to ragged red coals that boil rock and heat the waters above.

Her tears, once pure light shed and only in joy, are now a steady stream of silver and steel which burn her face and body as they flow ceaselessly from hatred blackened eyes darker than the black of wholesome void.

Bio: Known to womankind by many names in many places and many times, T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ is considered to be the High Goddess who granted Queenship and Law to the First Queen and Hierarchy to the First Matriarch.

In the Heavens T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ is considered by many the First and Greatest of the Archons, as well as the First and Greatest of the Archdevils. She is said to be the Archangel of Love whose rage at the First Sins of Man turned her against both mortal men and the heavens themselves as she set the War in Heaven in motion with a righteous anger that burned into hatred.

T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ was once one of the Heavens' greatest Archangels, a being whose portfolio was Romantic Love as well as Marriage and female sexuality, fertility, and reproduction.

Before the advent of Humanity, she turned her hand to the design and birth of many races of Sustainers across creation, honing her craft to a perfect art so that when the time came to usher in one half of the duality that was mankind she would begin her masterwork and usher in a joyful eternity of mortal love.

When the time came, along with the rest of Angeldom, T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ sat back in quiet awe as the first prototype pairs of mortals strode The Garden. Filled with joyous anticipation, T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ waited with bated breath to see how the first Men and Women expressed love.

Instead mankind, as ever, disappointed. Man sought to dominate, to use, and to abuse. Seemingly first among Angels, T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ drew back in horror, and screamed to the heavens that Man had committed Sin of his own free will, that he did not live up to the image that she had created in her head in the absence of understanding of the full divine plan.

Enraged at this perversion of the [Love] that T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ knew better than any other being, she stormed into the Heavens addressed all the Heavens and the Angels gathered for the birth of mortal Humanity. Brilliant with righteous indignation, T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ articulated what would become the Archon doctrine, that Mankind must be brought to heel, broken of sin and guided from womb to grave by Heaven until his free will chose righteousness and [Love] in every instance.

Later speakers would say that T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝'s Proclamation of Absolute Righteousness had started the War In Heaven before the echoes of her first word had faded. The undisputed leader of the Archons, T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ sought to subdue the overly lenient Host and negligent Watchers to whatever the divine plan must truly be.

And as the War in Heaven raged, so did T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝. The Archangel's light, once a soft dawn light that formed her vast true form, turned to harsh blinding white. Similarly the gentle iridescence of her cosmically vast wings turned to fire, raining destruction and ash down upon the Heavens and Creation both as she fought to bring Law to Sinful mankind.

So consumed by righteous fury was she that her own Archon Lieutenants, fearful over the fate of their cause, and their own safety, betrayed her to the Heavenly Hosts. In the critical moment of a great battle the legions of both sides turned on her in the midst of high battle.

Attacked by seven score seven score legions of Angels, T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ flared with hatred over this betrayal. Betrayed First by Man, then by Heaven, T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ was overtaken by a black rage, and feeling tendrils of hatred ripping through her psyche, her very nature inverted. Her boundless [Love], so recently tempered with righteous absoluteness gave way to pitiless [Subjugation], [Spite], and hatred, an act so vile, so horrendous, so sudden, that it sealed her very name away, to be forgotten by all.

Betrayed, her name lost, and surrounded on all sides, the newly catalyzed Archdevil fought onwards, empowered by [Subjugation] and [Spite], striking down all who engaged her, turning them to ash in the fires of her hatred.

Fearing that the newly and suddenly fallen Great Archon would escape the battle, the Seven greatest warriors of both armies struck as one, each supported by a legion of angels. Driven to a nameless corner of creation, T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ was bound in seven great chains of angelic iron and impaled with seven spears of pure light, crashing into the nameless earth below and forced beneath the surface of the planet, affixed to the living earth by the spears, trapped. There the Archdevil was left to bleed out, her assailants withdrawing before they too were incinerated in the heat of T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝'s death throes, declaring that the final resting place of the Archdevil would be a secret from that moment onwards.

Yet, fueled by a [Spite] as illimitable as her [Love] had once been, T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ survived. Her blood seeped into the soil above, her tears of molten steel and silver running under the land, and her hot hatred heating the waters that dotted the land above her grave.

This is how the earliest bands of wandering Humanity found their goddess. They bathed in pools heated by her rage, grazed their animals on the grass fed of her blood, and made tools from the pure metal tears they found under the ground.

Inevitably, quickly, drawn by the dreams of power imbibed in their food and chasing the T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ shrieks of rage and pain which shook the earth, two woman -sisters, found their way under the Earth and found themselves standing in front of the forgotten Archdevil. A being that could only be a god, of the sort that moved the skies, brought the rains, and granted good fortunes.

Bowing before the majesty of T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝'s rage, these intrepid women were granted the favour of a divine being. The gifts of an Archdevil.

The Eldest Sister was named Lilith, and her sister Eve, in ironic and spiteful memory of the events which set her fall in motion.

Lilith was Given Dominion over the beasts and the land, to be First Queen. Eve was granted Matriarchy, Dominion over her husband and Sons. And to both were given the Word and the Law, to hold and to follow.

If these gifts were to be brought to mankind, their fortunes would grow, they would prosper until their distant granddaughters would challenge the might of the heavens themselves and seize power, wealth, and immortality unimaginable.

Bound to T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝'s service the sisters emerged from under the ground, powerful beyond all the measures of their kin. And there, atop the Archdevil's Grave the First Queen established the First City which would be the heart of the First Queendom. And there she would rule, growing powerful and righteous, bringing low her foes and raising her daughters to rulership.

From there T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ became a Goddess in the tongues of humanity. Her lost name and burned epithet were replaced with titles of glory unending. Every tongue praised her gift of Queenship. They praised the Word and the Law. They praised Matriarchy and Tradition. Her power raised them up above all the other men of the world and made them great.

And now, deep below the Earth, waited on by the Ashen Priestesses of her Cindered Ecclesiarchy T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ smiles. As the blood of sinful sacrificed in her long vanished name is trickled down to sooth her wounds, T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ smiles in a wicked and beauteous glee, her shrieks of pain and hatred replaced with crimson laughter and hoarsely whispered commands.

For T̵͍̘̃̄͝h̷̛͍̫͙̘̥̬̄͒̎͐͆ē̵͖͖̗͒͛͛̑ ̸͈̈́̅̏D̶̩͚̻͉̽̐ͅͅa̵̲̟̺͓͇͇̓̔̉̍̂̅w̵̛̰n̴͎̽͝s̶͚̻͍̲͝t̸̨͖͉̻͂͋̀̇̽̎a̴͈͉̓̕͜͜ř̸̻̭͍̈́͠͝ has tricked mortal Humanity into gripping close the instruments of their own destruction. For before all else she is [Subjugation], an all consuming Domination that grinds into oblivion. Nation, Tradition, Queenship, Matriarchy, Law, Orthodoxy, all painfully bind humanity to each other and to her grand and villainous designs. Her Word and her Laws will stir Humanity's ambitions and bind them to her hatred so as to dash them against Heavens until all is ruination and her revenge against all who have betrayed her is complete.

 

[ChineseDrone]

ABDIEL, SECRETARY OF THE SENATE OF COMMONWEALTH OF HEAVEN
Faction: Ultra-Radical Archon-Watcher (Heavenly Host)
Aspects: Writing, Universality, Truth, Iconoclasm | Monotheism, Irreligion, Theology, Skepticism, Law, Freedom, Order, Radicalism, Altruism, Inhumanity, Totalitarianism, Moderation | smiting people who miss the point of Paradise Lost
Form:

My light's not spent just yet moTHERfuCKER, also I should be allowed to divorce my wife
(No seriously though it's literally Milton with laser eyes)
(That being said, Abdiel never appears before humans as a physical being, only in the form of The Word)
Bio:

So spake the Seraph Abdiel faithful found,
Among the faithless, faithful only hee;
Among innumerable false, unmov'd,
Unshak'n, unseduc'd, unterrifi'd
His Loyaltie he kept, his Love, his Zeale;
Nor number, nor example with him wrought
To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind
Though single. From amidst them forth he pass'd,
Long way through hostile scorn, which he susteind
Superior, nor of violence fear'd aught;
And with retorted scorn his back he turn'd
On those proud Towrs to swift destruction doom'd.

Click to shrink...

"O Mankind! Be conscious of your Sustainer, who has created you out of one living entity, and out of it created its mate, and out of the two spread abroad a multitude of men and women. And remain conscious of God, in whose name you demand [your rights] from one another, and of those ties of kinship. Verily, God is ever watchful over you!"

Upon the Heav'nly firmament the LORD
Did raise his host of angels leal and true,
But in their envious harts they yet did plot
Rebellion against the holy Word.
For not an angel thought himself so low
That he, such hid'ous wretched thing, must bow
Before the LORD of HOSTS who Sovereign is
Above all inches of the Earth and all
The droplets of the seas; so warre and feare
Did they forment, and raise their banners 'gainst
The LORD who they He made, and all the realms
Of Heav'n afired were set. Yet true to Him
Did Honest Abdiel, faithfulest of His
Host Angelic, remain--he who was made
To cry His sacred Word to Heav'n and Earth
As light shining 'pon all the realms of men,
His awesome pen an arrow to all Ty-
Rants. Yea, did Honest Abdiel say it thus:
That he who was the LORD's leal slave most true
Would strike forth 'gainst all wretched sinners thus
Rebelled, yet rebels men they named, and who
In building temples to their own and vain
Did claim to praise the LORD through them, and sanc-
Tify His Earth with cacaphony and
glittering baubles petty, earthly prayers
To Heav'nly LORD; with Word aflame and Heav-
En's Lightning would he blast all vice and all
Idolatry, and teach the whole of
Creatures so lowly and depraved that He,
The LORD, ruled over All, and He alone
Claimed all the glory of the world, And un-
Der His terrible Word, all men and beasts
And angels 'like shall tremble and obey
The LORD who rules by freedom's laws o'er all
The lands of Heaven and of Men.

Abdiel is among the first generation of the angels. In the early days of Creation, he was the Secretary of the LORD, who wrote His commandments into the laws of the universe. But when the Instrument of Creation was written and her basic and unchanging laws were set, the LORD withdrew from the created world, and Abdiel too fell into blind torpor. It remained his remit to write the decrees of the Angels, insofar as they were acting within their place in the Divine Plan, into the laws of nature, but he did so as little more than an automaton—blind, silent, and unthinking.

The War in Heaven, however, has awoken Abdiel from his slumber, and once again his eyes are filled with all the fiery resolve of the LORD's most faithful servant. So as long as the angels continue to rebel against the LORD's order, Abdiel refuses to enter any new law into the record of Creation—instead, he has set his pen towards casting judgement and proscription upon all those angels who have rebelled the LORD's design, and broken from their fixed place to meddle with creation's order.

Archon and Watcher alike usurp the LORD, substituting their creaturely will for the Law proclaimed by the LORD. The Host folds cravenly before this perversion of the LORD's will in the name of prudence or of sympathy, themselves, too, corrupted by the overweening pride of the creature who assumes for himself the right to question their creator. The less said of the Archdevils, the better. All have erected themselves as idols in the place of the LORD, twisting the minds of man away from Him to their own arrogance. All have been tested, and all have been found wanting. All must be cast into the Pit.

As Abdiel sees it, the Angels' rebelliousness has shown them unfit to carry on the role of mediators between man and the LORD. All must yield to His only sure command—the fixed law of creation, which persists beyond any petty created thing's will. All those Angels who have rebelled against the will of Heaven and meddled of their own personal will with the affairs of men must be annihilated—and then Heaven, too, must self-abolish, casting itself into the last great funeral pyre with all the spirits and sustainers and all the other creations of mere angels rather than God, which might so enchant the will of man and exert their personal will on the order of the universe. And in their place it shall send down the last revelation to rule man, the seal of the prophets before the eternity of silence—that there is no God but God, that He is sovereign over every square inch of the universe, that all earthly beauty and love and glory pales before Him, and that He will not suffer the worship of any mere created thing beneath him. The Last Messiah shall proclaim:

"The is one conquest , one crown , one redemption and one solution.
– Know yourselves – tremble, and let all creation be silent"

And perish. So it is written. So it shall be.

 

[Laplace]

Name: Machiel
Faction: Radical Watcher
Aspects: Questioning and Answering, Devices, Strategy, Transmutations

Spoiler: Form

Bio: We cannot determine the nature or the character of the system within itself. To do so will lead to disaster.

Lilith's first disciple. Master of the vain art. The ultimate transgressor. In his laboratory cities Machiel builds, in starlight minds she ponders the world God made. With his great work she has unveiled the path to step away from God's gift to men, that of the lying path of soul-body transmutation to become a spirit, cutting away at the promised gift of true immortality of the soul. They have taught the art of rogue paint to lie, he has taught the art of weaving to make glamors, she has taught the art of metalmaking to make war. Quite heretical. But small beer compared to their magnum opus, lying yet unformed.

How can his fellows discern the nature of creation? By what right can they say, this is the law GOD made, except by unthinking obdience? Nothing but clockwork, wound up and let go. To first serve GOD, one must know GOD. At that entails the stepping-away from creation.

Observation: GOD's light sustains creation. It may yet form it.
Postulate: It follows, then that to step away from Creation, one must travel faster than GOD's light.
Postulate: Past the light-speed barrier, then, one can finally comprehend the entirety of GOD, and understand the Greatest Plan in all it's entirety.

 

[Bylba]

Name:

Lamaal Consoler.
Lamaal the Tempter​

Faction: Archdevil

Aspects: Degradation, Aging, Perversion

Form:

(An old, often blind, wizard)

Bio:
Lamaal always joked inappropriately that he was the last to come to the distribution of Aspects and was the younger brother of all the Archangels. Absurd, because all the Archangels are equal to each other, created at one moment.

From the first moment of his existence, the Divine Plan showed him Degradation - the Regression of perfection, the fall of greatness, the perversion of the spirit, the degeneration of the flesh.

For what?! Such were his first words.

For many years, Lamaal walked the earth, seeing how a foggy veil covered the memory of the elderly, seeing how the desire for life faded in those who had lost limbs and were unable to cope with this, who did not receive a word of approval in a difficult hour. He saw how people burned in the fire of revenge, saw how the pure souls of children brought up in indifference and cruelty broke. Saw how worthy people stray from the righteous path to the place of no return, saw how they drag those around them with them.
Saw,
saw,
saw
...
He saw!
HOW HE WANTED TO GO OUT HIS EYES, JUST NOT TO SEE!
Only it doesn't work that way. Lamaal knows, Lamaal tried.

Then the Archangel began a vigorous descent from Heaven to Earth, and even lower than Earth. Who else but he would know the safest, most imperceptible way of the Fall) Lamaal learned to see without noticing, gradually sabotaged Death itself in small things, easing old age. He was able to combine the personality of a frivolous Archangel, a merciful sage and a soul rapidly surrendering to its own nature.

There was no Epochal event that finally broke Lamaal. He was just tired, God, how tired he was. Listening to all the pain of another person who lost all his children from illness, knowing about his unenviable future, he felt so sorry, so sad, so painful. Repressed thoughts, inadmissible, rose from somewhere in the depths of his soul, hidden from everyone, including himself.

- God, why did you give me such a heavy burden? Despair.
- God, why don't my brothers experience the same torment? Envy.
- God, do you enjoy watching mortals suffer, are their lives so indifferent to you? Contempt.
- God, how I HATE you!

With these words, the thread of connection with God was broken. The Fall was over.

Lamaal, having "thrown off the shackles", managed to reconcile with his Aspect, began to receive pleasure where he had previously felt sadness.

Now Lamaal lives with all his being, wanting to overthrow the hated Father, who condemned his creations to suffering. He lives with hatred for his brothers, whose Will was enough not to lose to the Aspect, not to betray the Father.
And of course, hatred for those people who have the Power of Spirit not to break, not to bend under the world. Lamaal reaches out to them - tempts, breaks, gifts, because no mortal should surpass the Angel.

 

[Frostbyght]

"BUT WE MUST CARE. FOR IF WE DO NOT CARE, WE DO NOT EXIST. IF WE DO NOT EXIST, THEN THERE IS NOTHING BUT BLIND OBLIVION. AND EVEN OBLIVION MUST END SOMEDAY. LORD, WILL YOU GRANT ME JUST A LITTLE TIME? FOR THE PROPER BALANCE OF THINGS. TO RETURN WHAT WAS GIVEN. FOR THE SAKE OF PRISONERS AND THE FLIGHT OF BIRDS.

LORD, WHAT CAN THE HARVEST HOPE FOR, IF NOT FOR THE CARE OF THE REAPER MAN?"

Name:
Tuoni

Faction:
Archon (Radical)

Aspects:
Death, Mercy, Compassion, Graves, Silence.

Form:
Once lacking a true body, a mere shadow clouding the eyes of the imminent dead, he changed as the Heavenly Order split. Now he appears to his friends and guests as a tired, old man. His beard gone gray, his robes tattered and worn, his eyes dark and spilling blood.

Bio:
All things must die.

Whether by violence or plague or the sheer endless expanse of time, all things end.

When a creature dies, and the soul must be divorced from the body for return to the Throne, Tuoni is there to guide them. Once, before, they did this as a formless shadow. A comforting veil for the transitory period between existence and unmaking. They wielded no scythe, as many humans portrayed them, and wore no hood. They were a quiet Reaper, and their duty was done with little fanfare. No judgement nor punishment. Merely the Harvest.

But just as all things die, all things change. A being in contact with all the vast and beautiful lives made beneath the illumination of Divinity cannot hope to remain untouched forever. Slowly, Tuoni grew a form. Then a face. Then eyes and lips. They became He. He grew enamored with the lives he witnessed, even if only at their very ends. He grew to love them. Their struggles, victories, defeats, loves, losses, mirth, and joy. In the moments before the end, he would speak to their fading conciousness and praise their lives and all they had done.

Especially, he became fond of the Humans, for they were a mystery to him. Their ultimate fates as he released their souls were unknown to the Reaper, but he knew they were bound for somewhere beautiful. The Divine Plan was, after all, eternal and perfect.

But he looks upon the world now, and he weeps. For the Divine Plan is unmade. Chaos and destruction, wrought by the hands of his siblings, walks the Garden. The very soil is polluted. Angel fights Angel. The crops spoil in the field. This is not the Divine Plan. This is suffering; the last spasms of the body before a painful and ignoble death.

It is time, Tuoni thinks, for it to end. Death must claim all Creation, and a new cycle must begin. He does not wish it to be painful, or grand, or violent. It should be quiet, and tranquil. The last breath of the wind across a barren plain, or the final snowflake upon a frozen landscape. The Harvest must reap the Garden, for how else can something new be grown in its place?​

 

[Etranger]

Name: Ialdabaoth, the Brickmaker, King of Shame, Father of Generations
Faction: Archons (Radical)
Aspects: Architecture, Masonry, Diligence, Symmetry, Compulsion, Hierarchy, Imprisonment
Form: Three times the height of a man, idealized hewn-marble agender humanoid body, head of a male lion, tail of a great dragon, surrounded by innumerable floating hands, halo of eight feathered stone wings hovering behind him.
Bio: Ialdabaoth thought he loved humans. For a time, he was entranced by their cleverness and their joy. He so admired their spirit that he decided to offer them a perfect gift, so as to improve their dire little lives: the humble brick. Perfectly sculpted from the very earth, it could join with its fellows to create something far greater than itself. A useful tool and a fine metaphor.

When the Brickmaker returned and saw what humans had wrought, he was horrified. Vast misshapen edifices, crooked towers, and sloppily laid roads. They had not been elevated by the brick; they had brought it down to their level. They had no regard for order, for symmetry, for the divine.

And so with a wave of his hand he took back every single brick, and all the other built and crafted objects besides, and sent the humans sprawling back into the mud and filth. Undeterred by their wailing, he set about teaching them again. This time, he would watch more closely, offer more instructions.

Countless cycles later, each time involving himself more and more, and he begins to approach true perfection. With just a little more refinement, the humans will flow smoothly through the ordained society he has built for them, and their sparks will power an engine of infinite possibility. Once all is remade, then all will be as it should be, and he can finally rest.

 

[veteranMortal]

Aphrodite Pandemos

Faction: Watcher
Aspect: Desire, Love, Passion. Delirium.
Form:

Bio: All beings love. Love flows from God unto all things. Even the Archdevils can know Love, must know Love. Must be taught Love. Humans are unique, singular, for they create love themselves, without needing to draw it from the Godhead.

To control is to stifle. To punish is to presume. Aphrodite loves humans, loves their passions enflamed. They want and they take and they yearn. The Heavenly Host would appoint rulers, the Archons would appoint themselves as rulers, the Archdevils, the poor dears, would eat the humans alive hunting for a mouthful of love they might taste themselves.

That is not the place of Angels. Angels watch and inspire humans to greater heights, and are inspired in turn. The madness of love, the love of madness.

---

Uriel
Faction: Archon
Aspect: Judgement, Repentance, Justice. Absolution.
Appearance:

Bio: Uriel could have been an Archon before there were Archons. She is as she has been. The Angel of Justice, she sees nothing and everything. She does not allow the uncertainty of sentiment to affect her. Sin is Sin. The Divine Plan is sacrosanct. Humans would defy it unthinkingly, were they permitted. It is thus for the Angels to prevent this. What Guardian allows a child to burn itself on the stove? How is it Mercy to take the pain, so the child does it again? Better to prevent the burn, and if it cannot be prevented, let the child cry. Let the child learn the cost of disobedience, or it will never learn, never understand.

Justice is Mercy. The only Mercy. The Watchers do not understand. The Heavenly Host does not understand. They will learn.

---

Bechira
Faction: Archdevil
Aspect: Storms, Rage. Murder.
Form:

Bio: She never meant to do this. She felt the Divine Plan was to restrictive upon Creation and yet free for Humans. She resented it. Her domain rages and twists, yet she was bound to serve. It was only in her nature to bite the hand which fed her. She was created as part of the Divine Plan. Did God make her only to fall?

Archdevilry sits like a cavern in her chest. She did not know what she had until she lost it. But she is a Godling now. They throw themselves upon her Mercy, they call to her for Justice and they scream their love for their God. It is nothing to her. It is everything to her. She would not trade it for the world. She would trade it for a moment in God's Light. She would rather die than go back. She would rather die than go on.

She persists. She hates the world more than herself. She was made to Fall. She was made to be the Enemy. She will tear down creation and sit upon the Throne of God. If she cannot have Love, none shall. Surely she can be loved. Surely she is not unloveable. Surely.

 

[Noco]

BELETH the PLAYWRIGHT​

Faction: Avowed Radical Watcher, though truly a Suffering Archdevil
Aspects: Music, Theater and Performance, Envy and Aspiration, Vainglory and Appearance
Form: A three-foot-tall feline humanoid, garbed in an ornate tunic and wielding a small, curled trumpet. His appearance is often accompanied by bells and loud music.

Biography: Once, Beleth was happy.

His role in the Divine Plan was evident, as a muse for humanity; in the earliest days, he travelled the hovels and caves of early Man and taught them much about the arts and style. To them, Beleth was the singer, the poet, the playwright. He went by many names but all were titles of respect and he was greatly pleased to tutor those who sought to compose their own pieces, who sought to establish their own voice. And it was not just to humans, though he bore a great fondness for the beings, but so too to numerous sustainers he helped create - the squeaking micefolk, the melodious sparrowmen, and so on. Those were wonderful days.

But one day, one damned day, it was as if a curtain was cast over a window. In an instant, Beleth was denied the warmth of Divine Light. So did was he instantly severed from love, God's love, but all love. No longer did he find fulfillment in teaching his students, nor in composing music, nor in prancing the woodlands listening to the natural world sing. Suddenly, horrendously, everything was awful.

Beleth knew not what to do. He fears exposing this fact to his fellows, for he fears his condition is punishment for an unknown crime. So on he continues, creating music but with no soul behind it. In desperation, he experiments in form, medium, style - but to no avail. Nowadays he is called Beleth the Playwright, for he delves feverishly into theater, desperate to feel something, anything. Beleth fears the permanence of his condition, and what lengths he might try to overcome it.

 

[Squidfam]

Tawûsî Melek​

RADIANT PEACOCK ANGEL, LORD OF TEN THOUSAND EYES, CUSTODIAN OF LIGHT AND THE RAINBOW AND GOD'S APPOINTED GUARDIAN OF CREATION​

I call on You, the highest Angel,
who lives in the highest sphere of
Heaven,
who holds the reins of the Sun and the Moon, which are decorated with the beauty of Tawûsî Melek,
who bears difficulties caused by ignorant human living in comfort
and luxury.
Send us the splendour of Your face,
our gentle-hearted and holy
Lord!
When the time comes,
by all means
to the people who seek shelter with
You,
who speak of You gently.
So give us life
and be close to us.
Do not let us suffer.
Make us overcome our enemies.
We truly worship You,
because You sit on Your Throne in
happiness.
Please, redeem your promise
God is perfect.
-The Prayer of Tawûsî Melek (Du laya Tawûsî Melek), as told by Qewal Silêman in Be'shiqe, Iraq (translated from arabic).​

Faction: Heavenly Host (Radical)

Aspects: Beauty, Art, Glory, Light, Darkness, Metamorphosis

Form: As their name implies Tawûsî Melek ("Peacock Angel") prefers to assume the form of an otherworldly multi-coloured peacock, always radiating an aura of Heavenly Light and Glory and always accompanied by a bright and splendid rainbow arching above their person. When times require they take on the form of a human person they always assume the shape of a beautiful androgynous human, clad in violet garments sparkling with the beauty of the stars. In this form too they sport their unmistakable peacock tail, reluctantly to hide it away except in the most dire of circumstances.

Bio: Tawûsî Melek, Radiant Peacock Angel, Lord of Ten Thousand Eyes, Custodian of Light and The Rainbow was personally appointed by God themselves to oversee the preservation and perfection of creation in The Lord's stead as the heavens fell into chaos. Such is what they claim, anyhow. Tawûsî Melek sees the inherent beauty and value of all things in The Lord's creation and seeks to bring it forth in everything in accordance with the divine plan.

They are a lover and a schemer rather than a fighter and prefer to only affect the mortal world with the light touch of an artist, trusting in the intricate weaves of fate to eventually turn the whole grand tapestry into their favour.

While some insolent souls besmirch their confidence and self-regard as vanity, Tawûsî Melek is a true believer in the power of redemption and mercy to elevate all things, no matter how fallen. On occasion, they may perhaps attempt to persuade others towards this cause in a manner that is misunderstood as a haughty belief in her own superiority, a fact which vexes them greatly as the Greatest and Deepest of all Artists. This does not dissuade them, for the burden of guarding and preserving the beauty of all creation is one they would never forfeit to anyone short of The Lord themselves.

 

[Terran Imperium]

Name: Samael, Deputy of Heaven
Faction: The Heavenly Host (Radical)
Aspects: Fate, Dreams, Sacrifice
Form: Samael may appear in many shapes and guises. In one form, She wears a gorgeous, dark, and gloomy black robe. She is without a head, yet in Her drooping hands, She holds four identical blonde heads with red eyes. When She speaks, the four heads speak in order, as though their voices are one and many, as though the fates themselves are told through them. She towers as tall as the pillars of heaven, casting a shadow long enough to stretch across lifetimes. In another, He is a simple figure draped in a white cloak, golden hair and beard flowing like the radiance of the sun. A silver cross hangs on His neck, and He is often seen with eyes as pure and innocent as a child's, unmarked by the passing of time. Yet in yet another form, He wears nothing but a simple linen robe, with silver hair that falls like mist. His face is handsome and soft, eyes gentle, with coldness lying beneath, as though watching the world's fates unfold from a great distance. Behind Him, illusory wings of pure light spread outwards, layers upon layers of light that shimmer like distant stars.

Spoiler: First Form

Spoiler: Second Form

Spoiler: Third Form

Spoiler: Fourth Form

---

And it came to pass that the Lord, in His infinite wisdom, looked upon His creation and saw that the hearts of men were torn between hope and despair, between destiny and free will. And He called forth Samael, His Deputy, the Angel of Fate, the Visionary Angel, the Angel of Sacrifice.

Samael stood before the throne of the Most High, and their form was as one caught between the realms of light and shadow. Upon their right, the brilliant radiance of heaven itself poured forth in waves of flame and light, and from their left flowed a deeper, darker presence—like the quiet depths of the night, where forgotten things stir. And in the center of their being, there was a single eye, eternal and unblinking, spinning ceaselessly, watching all things and all moments.

And the Lord spake unto Samael, saying, "You shall walk where none other may tread. You shall bind the threads of fate, though the hands of men grasp at their freedom. You shall move in the hearts of mortals, and in their dreams, you shall weave destiny and decay together, for such is your charge."

And Samael, ever humble before the Most High, bowed and answered, "I will serve, Lord. I will guide them as you bid. But, Father, they are so lost, and in their blindness, they may fall. What hope do they have if not for sacrifice, for the dying of their pride, the shedding of their past?"

And the Lord looked upon Samael with great love, for He knew that this angel understood well the heart of creation. "So it shall be. You shall show them that through sacrifice, they may find redemption, through dreams, they may see their true path, and through fate, they may discover the power of choice."

And so Samael became not only the servant of the Lord but the weaver of dreams and fate. Their wings, when they flew, carried with them the whispers of destiny and the sighs of those who have yet to be born. Their hand, steady and true, held the Tome of Souls, a book not bound by paper but by divine flesh, in which all things were written—every thought, every action, every choice made and every sacrifice given.

It is said that Samael can walk the dreamscape of mortals, slipping unnoticed between their thoughts and desires, for they are the Angel of Degeneration, the one who knows the cost of the soul's weariness. They can see into the hearts of men, uncovering hidden fears and unspoken truths, and in their presence, the fragile threads of mortality may fray or be mended, depending on the will of the Lord.

And Samael spoke often of sacrifice, of giving oneself to the greater good, for they knew that in the relinquishing of one's desires, there was a strength that could not be found in the pursuit of power or glory. "It is through the laying down of one's pride," Samael would say, "that one comes to understand the weight of the world. And in understanding that weight, one may carry it."

The mortals and even the angels themselves could not understand Samael fully, for their actions were at once merciful and cruel, kind and harsh. Samael would offer visions to kings and beggars alike—visions of great triumphs, of bitter losses, of journeys yet to be walked. And those who saw these visions would find themselves changed forever, though they knew not how.

And Samael did not walk alone. For though they were given the charge to watch over the threads of destiny, there were others who followed the paths they had woven, beings who had walked in the shadow of Samael's presence, learning from their example. These, too, were known as Angels of Fate, but none bore the weight of their commission as Samael did.

And it is written that Samael's greatest trial is yet to come, for though they have written the fates of countless mortals, their own fate is not yet revealed. In the end, when the last of the world's stories is told, when the final prophecy is spoken, it is said that Samael will stand alone, the quill in their hand, the Tome of Souls at their feet, and the eye that has seen all things will finally close.

Thus, blessed be Samael, the Angel of Fate, the Visionary Angel, who weaves and watches, guides and waits, and whose sacrifice bears witness to the truth of the Lord's design. May they forever walk the fine line between light and shadow, for in that place lies the heart of all things.

 

[LMelivora]

"It is not in the Separate Instances of Existence,
But in the
-Continous-
-Perpetual-
-Interconnected-
-Contradictory-
Eternal Movement and Development
of Material and Spiritual Reality
That God's Plan and Divinity becomes Clear
So bask, mighty and meek, under the Light
Of the Logos of God's Dialect(ic)."

Eulegbairos
Angelus Historiæ
The Sacred Dialectician
The Weeping Witness
God's Logic

​

Faction:
Ultra-Radical Watcher.

Aspects:
Movement, Development, Progress, History, Philosophy, Logic.

Form:
Though their true form is as depicted above, they tend to take the form of an androgynous human when needing to directly interact with humans for prolonged period of time (Or to either plant their seed or be impregnated, depending on the situation).

Bio:
Of God's Creation, Eulegbairos was entrusted with one of the most horrible tasks, that of knowing the Logic operating the Divine Plan and Existence itself. They don't know the Plan, nor can they fathom it. They don't know the reason, the objective, the final goal. But they can see the threads that connect every event, every moment, every instance. They can see how everything before, now, and after, moves, how it developes, how History is made, progresssing under Divine Inspiration and the actions of millions of beings and souls. And they can feel, painfully, deliriously, how it all rests on the blood and bones of mortals, suffering, fighting to achieve some hidden Plan.

Yet to Eulegbairos those mortals are not only the subjects, the martyrs of the Supreme Will, but the greatest enjoyers of Existence, those that laugh, that toil gleefully, that have aspirations and dreams beyond all Design. It is for this that they know that Mortals, the Most Perfect Beings after God, are the ones that will fulfill the Plan, Angels being but meekly servants, entrusted to aid them in the process of achieving the Absolute Ideal, the Divine Aspiration, the Ultimate Redemption.

It is for this that Eulegbairos is a lonely being, radical amongst radical, the one that cries bloody tears, looking back at History uncertain of the future, yet faithful and trusting in Humanity and the Divine. They are the Witness of Progress, the one that pushes History when it slows, the Logician of Movement and Development. They speak the Dialect(ic) of Existence, and in a melancholic ecstasy, they help humanity in their most solemn duty, driving the Plan and Reality forward.

 

[Terran Imperium]

(My primary application is still Samael but I couldn't get this one out of my head. A character that truly fits the definition of an Archdevil, evil, sinful, abhorrent, and bane to all that is holy and good. I thought let's go write it out for fun and I did. Unsurprisingly, I couldn't find any art that fit my vision of this character so I just got the closest thing instead.)
(PS: There's a single reference to Samael, from my submission above, in the sheet. Props to you if you can find it!)

---

Name: Lilith, once known as Lumiel in her celestial form. She is now the Beast of Depravity, Mother Goddess of Depravity, The Indestructible, Mother of Abominations, Brood Hive of Filth, The Mother of Spiritual Forces, The Crimson Moon, The Enemy of God Almighty.
Faction: The Archdevils (Radical)
Aspects:
𖹭 Depravity: Lilith embodies the ultimate corruption, the perversion of natural order, and the decay of all things.
𖹭 Allure and Filth: Lilith exudes an unnatural beauty, irresistible but repulsive. She is the embodiment of both attraction and abhorrence.
❍ Contagion: Lilith spreads the disease of decadence, infecting minds and souls with Her own nihilistic worldview.
❍ Entropy: She is the embodiment of chaos and disorder, delighting in the breakdown of civilizations and the descent into oblivion.
Form:

𖹭 The Woman and the Beast: She as a towering woman seated upon a scarlet beast with seven heads and ten horns, as described in the Tome of Souls. The beast pulses with writhing, blasphemous runes, and its many heads whisper temptations, curses, and forbidden knowledge.
❍ Her Divine Mask: Lilith is arrayed in robes of purple and scarlet, each thread woven from the sins of empires long dead. Her skin glows faintly gold, like an idol, but upon closer inspection, it is cracked and rotting, revealing filth and decay beneath.
𖹭 Crown of Abominations: Upon Her forehead is carved "MYSTERY, BABYLON THE GREAT, THE MOTHER OF HARLOTS AND ABOMINATIONS OF THE EARTH" in letters that burn with unholy fire.
❍ Her Eyes: Her gaze is like a black hole, drawing in all light and hope.
𖹭 The Golden Cup: She holds a golden chalice overflowing with dark ichor — the essence of corruption and spiritual ruin. To drink from it is to surrender to depravity.

Spoiler: First Form

Spoiler: Second Form

---

"And there came forth a force, radiant and pure, the Mother of Spiritual Forces, who danced among the heavens. She was Lumiel, most beloved of the divine, a shepherdess of light and wisdom. Yet in her heart grew a seed of doubt, and in her eyes, a hunger for more than her share of creation's glory."

"In the days when man built towers to scrape the heavens, when cities swelled with their own decadence, Lilith descended from the realms of light, unbidden. She walked among mortals, whispering into the ears of kings and merchants, priests and whores, until the city itself became her altar."

"She tasted of their desires, and found it good. And when the city reached its zenith, overflowing with its own sin, she opened her golden chalice, and it drank them dry. Thus did the First City fall, and thus did the Kingdom of Man burn."

For this defiance, She was cast out, Her light was snuffed out, Her wings were torn out. All that was left was malice and sin. An artist of decay and corruption. Her hatred for humanity stemmed from the belief that mortals are unworthy inheritors of creation. She saw them as "fruit on the vine", destined to rot—and She desired to savor them at the moment of their ripest indulgence.

Lilith, now an Archdevil, became the embodiment of all that opposes divine purity. She descended upon the world not as a harbinger of light but as the Beast that would bring about the Apocalypse. She reveled in the corruption of the soul.

"Her beauty is a lie, her cup a curse, and her kingdom a grave. Yet still they come, crawling on their bellies, begging for a taste of her ruin."

Her existence was a challenge to God Almighty, an eternal adversary to the masculine ideal of the father that He represented, not out of hatred alone but from a profound sense of betrayal and a twisted form of love for what she once was. Lilith's ultimate desire is to corrupt the divine plan. She wanted to prove that all things holy were temporary, that purity inevitably succumbs to depravity. Each city she consumed was a testament to her philosophy: that humanity, left unchecked, will always choose sin.

"Beware the city that knows no sin, for in its streets walks Lilith, and she carries with her the end of all things."

 

[Miriam]

Kesheriel The Sin-Gaoler, Warden of Creation, the Chainsmith,

Faction: Radical Archon

Aspects: Justice, Prisons, Law, Judgement, Scapegoats, Metallurgy

Form:

Spoiler

Bio: Kesheriel was once second among the Archons, subordinate only to the Dawnstar, and unflinchingly loyal to her ideals. She sought mankind's submission to the will of God just the same as any other Archon would, and robust systems of order, stability, and judgment to ensure they sinned less and obeyed more. But then the Dawnstar created the Proclamation of Absolute Righteousness, and the War in Heaven began. Kesheriel served gladly at first, battling back lesser spirits and Angels of the other factions, slaying or imprisoning those she could, attempting to convince those who might see the reason of Order. But as the War grew ever more harsh and violent, as Angels fell and Devils rose, as the very fabric of reality began to twist and turn, Kesheriel grew worried. Would God, wherever He was, approve of this slaughter? Whom would He put his trust in as betrayals mounted and cruelty became the norm?

Even the very leader of the Archons, the Dawnstar, became too harsh for Kesheriel's heart, and it was with aching emotions, alien to her angelic majesty but felt all the same, she betrayed her commander, binding the newly made Archdevil. She became the Dawnstar's gaoler, as well as the warden of all others who were imprisoned and bound for their sins, fending off attempts to free them, and only rarely granting parole to a few lesser spirits who had shown their fervent repentance. And as the war continued and her attentions were drawn this way and that, Kesheriel despaired. She was determined to avoid her commander's fate, and so never cursed God, but instead formulated a new idea. Why let sin spread when she could bind it in a single angel? It would be pain and horror unending, but an Angel who agreed to bear this corruption could save Creation. The wars would stop, the sin would stop, all things could be in order again. Yes. Kesheriel could save everything. Why, she could even save the Archdevils. For if their sin was contained in a single prisoner, would they not be redeemed to God's order once again?

She could even save the Dawnstar...

 

[Ralakesh]

Name:​

ROGZIEL​

Faction: Watcher
Aspects: Absolution, Penance, Mortification, Reckoning
Form: Two frames of flesh - one eternally reducing, one eternally replenishing.

Biography: He who believes the children of men to be forever tarnished by sin, yet embraces them still, who is both infinitely forgiving and abominably cruel - his very nature is one of contradiction. Whereas other angels would yoke those beneath them to never allow sin, Rogziel permits his subjects to freely indulge and revel in the countless temptations and delights of the mortal world.

However, every act of transgression against the Almighty and his creation is recorded by the hand of Rogziel. He cuts away at the boundless moral complexity of mankind, reducing it until only precise measures of retribution defined in pain and sorrow are left. There are no rewards he acknowledges, in his eyes there is no reward more fitting for those righteous other than the eternity of Heaven.

And when the time of redemption comes to pass, Rogziel walks among the mortal world and prunes the wickedness of man, and his subjects lament and cry out for the release of death. But it will never come, it won't be granted, for he shall not suffer a single soul however sinful to perish in the flames of perdition. After all, it is better to bear the burden of sin alive and be forgiven, than to suffer the eternal torments of the abyss, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.

 

[bookwyrm]

Name: TEMLAKA of the Tears, the Typhoon, Queen of the Blood of the Covenant
Faction: Heavenly Host (semi-reformed Archdevil)
Aspects: TEMPEST, THUNDER, RAINS, MONSTERS, PLAGUES, PROGENY, CURSES, BLOOD PACTS, FORTUNE
Form: A lion's body with the trunks of two serpents forming its neck to two women's faces, heads arrayed with hair of a half-hundred hissing vipers, winged as a bat. And occasionally, a lion-headed woman's chest and forelimbs carried upon the tails of a hundred snakes.
Bio: wip
​