u r i e l - Aiden Lucas (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
apreparescuer) wrote2012-08-06 11:08 pm
apreparescuer) wrote2012-08-06 11:08 pm
Ataraxion Application
PLAYER INFORMATION
Your Name: Mel
OOC Journal:melodicinkysin
Under 18? If yes, what is your age?: Oh gawd I'm old
Email + IM: roleplaynotifs@gmail.com | aim : melmal03 | plurk: melodicinkysin
Characters Played at Ataraxion: none
CHARACTER INFORMATION
Name: Uriel (Aiden Lucas)
Canon: Original (Universalis)
Original or Alternate Universe: n/a
Canon Point: April of 2012, two months after The Belial Incident. (To be consistent with Jaye)
Number: 004 » 248 if available, otherwise 004 » ###(some random number)
Setting: [taken from Universalis premise]
The ancient gods live amongst us, immortal and never changing. Their power and strength wanes and waxes as the mortals of the world remember or forget their names, but a well-placed prayer can bring even the oldest and weakest godling back from the brink of dissolution.
To help them navigate the swelling tides of social change each god is assigned a partnership of carers: a master and an apprentice, and both are expected to stay with their charge until their deaths. Each god may have lived through hundreds of thousands of carers and only on the death of their master may an apprentice graduate and pick an apprentice of their own - their eventual replacement.
The gods take human names and human jobs to eke out a living in the company of the mortals that they once governed but most still seem to possess the vitriolic wrath and tempestuous personalities of their former selves. They maintain links with their pantheons and often gravitate towards each other in order to maintain some semblance of the lives and relationships they once knew. Some of the more organised pantheons have even started their own companies such as OlympiCorps - the multi-national corporation of Greco-Roman deities.
Their carers are often left despairing but the life of a minder isn't so bad. Each and every deity gifts its carers with a 'blessing' - a power to make their duties just that little bit easier. A minder is expected to aid and assist their charge in every little matter the god wishes them to help with - one part PA and one part priest, a minder is expected to commit every last fibre of their being to their god.
The blessings vary from deity to deity - naturally, some are more generous than others. A Welsh fire goddess may choose to bestow upon her carers the ability to control a fire, because who know's when she may just set a man on fire in the middle of some drunken bar brawl in Cardiff city center? The relationships between a god and their carers will vary as well - for some, it's a sore bruise to their pride that they should have to be nannied and babysat like some tiresome toddler. Others enjoy the attention, and even endeavour to keep their carers amused with sexual and romantic advances. Other than total devotion to their charge there are no rules or codes of conduct for the masters or their apprentices - for the most part, they are expected to indulge the whims of their petulant charges for fear of what might happen should they offend them too deeply.
History:
Once his Father’s Archangel of Repentance and previously chosen to govern the army of angels, Uriel now works closely with Michael as a Specialist Firearms Officer within the CO19. He specializes in hostage rescue and counter-terrorism efforts. The angel traded in his flaming sword with which he guarded the lost Garden of Eden and the devil himself for a Heckler and Koch G36 Assault Rifle. It is his new weapon of redemption, protection, destruction, and serves as a reminder to those who sin to remember his Father. He is still, however, a gentler soul, his ultimate goal to protect those who cannot protect themselves and deliver them from evil. The power to harness light – to a degree – will always remain his. Though his holier fires are contained in the weapons he carries, Uriel also remains able to prophesize. It is a pity that sometimes such premonitions lack context. Still, his fires cleanse the wicked, delivering them to the hands of his Father for judgement.
The story goes that the angels were created by their Father as messengers, and from the beginning of the earth, so too were there angels. It is said that at one point in time, angels were without a hierarchy, and that all angels were to be messengers and liaisons between their Father and his people, as well as carry out specific tasks. Uriel specifically had many tasks.
Uriel's story begins with the creation of the Garden of Eden, as Uriel was one of the angels with the flaming swords. He was the keeper of the Garden of Eden, guard over Tartarus. He was sent to the prophet Ezra to instruct him and guide him, and he buried Adam and Abel in paradise. At the massacre of innocents, he rescued John the Baptist, and was the one to contact Noah and warn him of the impending flood. He also was the fiery angel who passed over the doors marked doors the night of the 10th plague in Egypt, and the one who lead Abraham to the west during the End of Times. He, like all the angels, had their duties and their devotions. Not all the angels, however, remained devoted to their place. While the angels were commanded to watch over the people, some of them took to lust after them. They laid with the women, procreated, and created the Nephilim, half angel, half human. The Nephilim, or Grigori, were dangerous to mankind, and against the wishes of the angel's father.
Things are a bit different now. After all, going from being the Light and Fire of God to a body-bound minister was not an easy transition.
Such a transition required several things: adjusting to the limitations being placed in a fleshy body, obtaining human-like attributes, and assimilating into society. The attributes were simple enough, and mortals were a blessing in helping Uriel with clothes, learning the ins and outs of casual contact, and assisted them with finding a profession. Down on earth, Uriel has had several names, but is currently known to mortals as Aiden Lucas. It wasn't a random choice, and the Patron of Poetry could not miss the chance to let his name allude to something. Lucas is notably for "light". Aiden for "fire." Adjusting to life wasn't about simply taking a name, however, or finding a job. These heavenlies had to withstand the turn of entire centuries without suspicion. Or, in many ways, at least avoid it when it mattered. The one fantastic thing about being on earth so long? He watched technology come about, and thankfully, grew rather adept at it. (Most of the House of Seraphim are attached to their cell phones and can't function without them. At least not professionally.) His flaming sword, a divine weapon entrusted to him in the very beginning of man, really didn't have a place in the rise of the modern era. With the times, his weapon changed, and now is currently a very particular rifle...which I will get into.
Since being placed on earth, the world has rapidly changed around him. Uriel has been minded by--and loved--hundreds of mortals. Among the more famous include Geoffrey Chaucer, the father of English literature, Thomas Cochrane, a famous captain in England's Royal Navy during the Napoleonic Wars, and Theodore Herzl, a famous Zionist of the late 19th century. There are certain things that he's gotten used to after several centuries in a corporeal body, which is very much like immortality thrust into a mortal casing. Tolerances and powers aren't quite what they used to be. His language changed, and they way he looked at people greatly differed. Once he was far more known for how harsh he had been; living besides humans, after hundreds of years saw his edges soften. He has been shaped, irrevocably, by the humans he kept close as minders and apprentices.
His blessings are manifestations of his own powers, with limitations. His Master-minders are gifted with fire and light control. It's a sort of given energy, the physical exhibition of it the master's choice (whether light or flame). The most recent two masters have been armed with a Taurus PT92 engraved with "Hell is Yourself." His apprentices are gifted with intuition, and occasional full-blown premonitions, with light control to a lesser degree. The most recent two have been armed with a Beretta 92FS engraved with "Courage is Salvation." His master minder is currently Eden Ignacia, a professional subordinate of his, and his apprentice minder is currently Magda Burkova, someone he helped walk away from a darker path.
Currently, he lives in England. It's a common theme in his life, and it's the more favoured of the countries he made his home in through the centuries. The Judeo-Christian house of Seraphim (like the Grecco-Roman house with their OlympiCorps) banded together and more often than not lived in the same country. They, however, are different in that they each hold a different position within public services. Michael has taken a position within the London Metropolitan Police as a detective. Gabriel is a barrister, Barachiel gives humanitarian aid to the English government, and Rafael is a surgeon. Uriel originally was military, trained as an Ammunition Technical Officer in the Royal Logistic Corps. Essentially, he was EOD, or in the Explosive Ordinance Disposal. Overseas, his primary job was to diffuse and reduce the amount of explosive threats. This included his handling of "conventional munitions and home made bombs," as well as "chemical, biological, incendiary, radiological (dirty bombs), and nuclear weapons." (Quote taken from Wikipedia). After several tours overseas, he retired from the military, having earned the rank of Major, to become a Commander as head of the CO19. Essentially, Uriel runs London's equivalent of the American SWAT team. His flaming sword? Now a variation of the standard-issue Heckler and Koch G36 Assault rifle.
In addition to his duties with the CO19, Uriel also does work as a probation officer. It's the easiest way to link his heavenly duties with his position in the London Met, hoping to guide sheep gone astray back to their shepherd. It worked particularly well in one case. Magdalena Burkova was a small-time thief for something far more large-scale than herself. As her probation officer, Uriel made her an informant, and later, his apprentice under the promise of her reformation and cooperation in bringing down the bigger dogs in the evil she'd once participated in. It isn't an entirely successful story, however. Magda isn't a particularly faith-filled woman, even with the evidence right in front of her. She doesn't believe in a god as much as she sees Uriel as more of a walking miracle. Faith in him is, for her, more like returning a favour. He had faith in her, and it's only right that she have faith in him. She lives in London, but under cover. Unlike Uriel and Eden, her visits with him are sparse and less frequent. Most of their contact is by phone. Meeting too often is dangerous for her otherwise.
Part of his military retirement was due to an incident that happened in Kabul. His then-apprentice, Eden Ignacia, and minder were both in his squadron that found themselves in Kabul. It's a well known story between the two of them, but something that's rarely spoken of. Something went wrong with that bomb diffusing, and that night, Uriel's attempt at routine blew sky high. He explained it to Eden some years later this way:
There's a painful understanding between Uriel and his current minder, Eden, that she never forgave him for failing to protect the man who taught her everything. She hadn't expected to rise from apprenticeship when he died of natural causes, but she also hadn't been prepared to step up so early. It took the events of early 2012 to give her reason enough to understand, and for Uriel to give her the explanation she needed.
Which brings us to the events of Universalis, which, in a short quip of a summary, is: Belial is a magnificent dick.
In this particular world, one where all of these beautiful pantheons only keep alive through faith, someone was very clever. In order to remove faith, one simply removes all proof that such a thing exists. For Uriel, this was devastating. In the year 745, Pope Saint Zachary sought to diminish the worship of angels by striking the vast majority of the archangels from canon. Uriel was among them. Thankfully, the licit angels were not the only ones that remained written about. Yet when all relics, written records, paintings, and buildings holding any scrap of mythological anything were burned and destroyed, even entire houses with mass followings were brought to their knees. Houses that formerly could not have given a damn (quite literally) about one another banded together, albeit with great reluctance. The Greeks and Romans, even after centuries, were still none too happy about the Judeo-Christians that had stomped all over their parade. They worked together regardless, and Uriel flew from England over to Chicago just to pay Hermes a visit. He knew they would need each other's information. The Morrigan later revealed a prophecy to all the houses, and with that information, teams of pantheons struggled to piece together the clues. Anansi the Spider, a previous cohort of Belial's, tried to get out just a little too late. He leaked just enough to give the gods and angels enough, but not without a price.
Belial pulled a very clever hat trick. Five clues, five different locations, and a very well-placed bomb threat. The moment there had been reports through the military grapevine that the Novgorod Museum of History was under lockdown, Uriel knew there was no other option than to get out to that aged city with all due haste. Russia's city of Velikiy Novgorod is teeming with churches, chapels, and structures dating back to the twelfth century, as well as a once unquestioned center for book production. Of course. How could he not have thought about it before? How had they missed this? There was only one option for Uriel. Get down into the museum, throw his military rank from the United Kingdom around and find out just what the hell had been pulled. Lockdowns always meant one or both of two things: bombs and hostages. The angel was lucky in one regard: no hostages. Every hall and building was devoid of people, and the city's policing forces, tactical teams, and specialists were all assembling outside to quickly organize how the situation would be taken care of. Uriel was alone in the archaeological wing with a room rigged to blow. There wasn't time to get things out. There just wasn't time, no matter how desperately he wished there was. Nor was it safe. He wasn't risking this being another Kabul all over again. Eden would never forgive him. He wouldn't forgive himself. At three minutes to 4am, Uriel's fingers bled from twisting and untwisting so many wires. There should have been a whole team on this, but he didn't have a choice. At two minutes to 4, he heard a click across the room. Two seconds later, the entire museum detonated in a daisy chain of fire and shrapnel. He'd run out of time.
At 4:10 in the morning, Russian time, every deity and every minder with a phone gets a message from Uriel, and it's a devastating one. While Uriel had tried desperately to save a museum, he'd been deliberately distracted. The bomb was a psychological flank in this battle. Tartarus was open, and Belial, Chronus, the 200 Grigori, and every other soul once cast inside was free. Uriel desperately called every house to arms, and with what strength he had left, drug his body into the St. Sophia chapel. In one last desperate text, he called for Raphael and begged his Minder and Apprentice to have faith.
It was a long wait for the sanctity of his brother's arms. Uriel had been fortunate in one way, though his luck that day was relative in all that had happened. The chapel and its clergy were a haven despite his obvious connection--somehow--to the museum. They helped him to a place of refuge, there before the altar, leaving him to be in its sanctuary. For as old as St. Sophia is and as much as the church's walls have witnessed, Uriel was not the most unnatural thing they could give refuge to. It was the flickering sight of wings, hanging and battered from Uriel's body, that gave those men of faith enough to let him stay. They were never given his name, nor did they ask. Uriel was long ago stripped of his rank by the church. He would not dare.
Meanwhile, the five locational clues for where Belial was headed were chased down. Persephone, Ate, and Penthos headed for Jerusalem. Under the instruction of the Angels, Eden did what she could. She flew to the city, blended in, and kept her ear to the ground. The angels, after pulling together in the St. Sophia Cathedral knew where they belonged, back in their city of gold. Leaving Raphael behind, collapsed after healing Uriel with what strength he had left, the rest of the angels flew to Jerusalem in a flurry of feathers and vengeance. The heavenlies joined Persephone, the Erinyes, Ate, Penthos, and Eden in a stand down with the one and only Belial. The only problem? Belial had rigged the museum housing the Dead Sea Scrolls to blow. (Oh, Uriel was not a happy camper.)
That isn't to say it stopped the fight. It was Holy Fire vs. Hell Fire in another damned area rigged to blow. It could have been bad, and should have been.
Thankfully, all's well that ends well.
Uriel, at the point right before I intend to bring him in, is in the stages of reshuffling priorities. He's seriously considering stepping down from the CO19 as commander, but can't seem to let go of the position. Instead, he's trading his focus of hours, putting more time in as a corrections officer and less with the CO19. Not easy to convince the bosses of, but at least he's got a few inside Seraphim to pull strings for him. Nothing quite like brothers in the right places. (Doctor's orders are also a miraculous thing.)
He still, however, has a lot to answer for. Tartarus may be re-sealed with every soul put back in, but there still remains the fact that Uriel was its guard, and that prison got sprung. He's not particularly looking forward to that conversation with Daddy.
Personality:
Uriel is a complicated creature, for such a simplistic creation. His six most prominent character traits are the following:
FORGIVING
Abilities -
Inventory: His CO19 officer badge, an arm sleeve with the patch of his division and rank as a commander, and his flaming sword. While it has more recently been in the form of the Heckler and Koch G36, I think it would be altogether more fun to have it go back to being a sword blazing with holy fire. Not exactly covert, but that's the beauty of it.
Appearance: Uriel (Aiden Lucas) is played by Ben Foster, who occasionally can look less derpish. He is 5'9", has pale green eyes, and typically wears his hair as a shaggy mop of blonde that's naturally wavy. He usually has a bit of stubble on his face, as more often than not, his minder will make him shave if it gets too noticeably there. He's unassuming in street clothes, as he typically chooses looser shirts, scarves, and pants that are comfortable. He practically lives in his uniform otherwise. The only noticeable feature -- wings aside -- is a single tattoo. It's between his shoulders, high up just beneath his neck as to rest over his wings, and reads "Contritrium Praecedit Supurbia." Translation, "Pride comes before fall."
Age: Uriel doesn't have an age, but his identification card says he's 31.
AU Clarification: none
SAMPLES
Log Sample: [Writing exercise; if Uriel fell. Music: November, by Max Richter.]
He didn’t expect something cataclysmic when he fell. He didn’t expect there to be a physical plummet, or a collision. The Angel knew all too well that in the grand scheme--one that is, indeed, grand--of the Judeo-Christian House of Seraphim, his fall would be a ripple in its serenity. He knew it would hurt. He had anticipated the pang, deep within his heart, that ached for his brothers, that there would be a cold sting when his Father’s holy fires were stripped away from him. He figured that it would be a dark fall, as he would no longer stand a bearer of light or be able to wield it.
He hadn’t expected the rain. It poured hideously that day, his first steps into the streets of London met with torrential storm. He was soaked in less than a minute, and for that he was glad he hadn’t worn his uniform. His station had always been a matter of pride, as had his title as Prince of the Presence. He’d likely be stripped of both now. The rain saturated everything with wet, matting his clothes to his skin, hair to his face, and streaking rivulets down his corporeal form. His wings weighed with all of that wet, feathers bristled and shrugged down. Hadn’t this once been cleansing?
He hadn’t expected the true fall, the plummet of his soul suddenly taking a dive out of the heavens. His whole body, whilst walking along the road, felt as though it had been hoisted a kilometer high and dropped. He tripped over his own shoe when the feeling took hold and his limbs threw him at the concrete. He scraped his nose and his right cheek. His feet had never left the ground, yet he knew in that moment, it had happened.
A form that typically ran hot in temperature felt remarkably like the day when mythology started disappearing from the shelves. For the second time in his entire existence, he shuddered.
No, there hadn’t been any miraculous event… but this… he could never expect.
Comms Sample:
[He palmed the device, one that was remarkably like his cell phone and had taken little adjustments to get used to. Really, there was very little that the angel had been shocked by. Space had been something to get used to, but this ship was hardly as militaristic as it could have been, and that would have been something of a glimmer of home. So, Uriel is without his duties to the CO19 due to his absence, god help them. He was without the ability to speak with his brothers, his minders, or those who looked to him as their corrections officer. Lovely. In summary? Uriel was bored.
Voice broadcast to the ship it is!]
Right then. So, I've gotten used to the uniforms. Not much different from the one I had back home, though the lack of kevlar is something to adjust to. It has a weight, if you've worn it, and for me, it was like waking up without a watch you'd worn for centuries around your neck. Ghost watch, that eerie feeling.
Ballistic material aside, I've got too many hours in my day to make blessings of and absolutely nothing to fill them with entertainment wise. Not a chance for World of Warcraft, or even the retro-awesome that is Super Mario Brothers. This doesn't seem the place for social smoking, and my partner isn't here, but I'm gasping for a video game or a smoke. I'm gasping without an idea to ward away the ennui.
Unless, by some chance, any of you want to talk. Old fashioned, yes, but I'm a Brit that can do more than chit-chat and the weather. Really, I'd like to get to know who it is I'm on this ship with. I like comic books, beer, and if I had my guitar, I'd be playing things in the hallways.
Three of you wouldn't happen to know an old card game? Trick taking, gambling, and older than Horatio Nelson, I'd consider myself lucky if someone would play a game of whist. Heavens, that would be nostalgic.
... the ship does have playing cards, doesn't it?
Your Name: Mel
OOC Journal:
melodicinkysinUnder 18? If yes, what is your age?: Oh gawd I'm old
Email + IM: roleplaynotifs@gmail.com | aim : melmal03 | plurk: melodicinkysin
Characters Played at Ataraxion: none
CHARACTER INFORMATION
Name: Uriel (Aiden Lucas)
Canon: Original (Universalis)
Original or Alternate Universe: n/a
Canon Point: April of 2012, two months after The Belial Incident. (To be consistent with Jaye)
Number: 004 » 248 if available, otherwise 004 » ###(some random number)
Setting: [taken from Universalis premise]
The ancient gods live amongst us, immortal and never changing. Their power and strength wanes and waxes as the mortals of the world remember or forget their names, but a well-placed prayer can bring even the oldest and weakest godling back from the brink of dissolution.
To help them navigate the swelling tides of social change each god is assigned a partnership of carers: a master and an apprentice, and both are expected to stay with their charge until their deaths. Each god may have lived through hundreds of thousands of carers and only on the death of their master may an apprentice graduate and pick an apprentice of their own - their eventual replacement.
The gods take human names and human jobs to eke out a living in the company of the mortals that they once governed but most still seem to possess the vitriolic wrath and tempestuous personalities of their former selves. They maintain links with their pantheons and often gravitate towards each other in order to maintain some semblance of the lives and relationships they once knew. Some of the more organised pantheons have even started their own companies such as OlympiCorps - the multi-national corporation of Greco-Roman deities.
Their carers are often left despairing but the life of a minder isn't so bad. Each and every deity gifts its carers with a 'blessing' - a power to make their duties just that little bit easier. A minder is expected to aid and assist their charge in every little matter the god wishes them to help with - one part PA and one part priest, a minder is expected to commit every last fibre of their being to their god.
The blessings vary from deity to deity - naturally, some are more generous than others. A Welsh fire goddess may choose to bestow upon her carers the ability to control a fire, because who know's when she may just set a man on fire in the middle of some drunken bar brawl in Cardiff city center? The relationships between a god and their carers will vary as well - for some, it's a sore bruise to their pride that they should have to be nannied and babysat like some tiresome toddler. Others enjoy the attention, and even endeavour to keep their carers amused with sexual and romantic advances. Other than total devotion to their charge there are no rules or codes of conduct for the masters or their apprentices - for the most part, they are expected to indulge the whims of their petulant charges for fear of what might happen should they offend them too deeply.
History:
Once his Father’s Archangel of Repentance and previously chosen to govern the army of angels, Uriel now works closely with Michael as a Specialist Firearms Officer within the CO19. He specializes in hostage rescue and counter-terrorism efforts. The angel traded in his flaming sword with which he guarded the lost Garden of Eden and the devil himself for a Heckler and Koch G36 Assault Rifle. It is his new weapon of redemption, protection, destruction, and serves as a reminder to those who sin to remember his Father. He is still, however, a gentler soul, his ultimate goal to protect those who cannot protect themselves and deliver them from evil. The power to harness light – to a degree – will always remain his. Though his holier fires are contained in the weapons he carries, Uriel also remains able to prophesize. It is a pity that sometimes such premonitions lack context. Still, his fires cleanse the wicked, delivering them to the hands of his Father for judgement.
The story goes that the angels were created by their Father as messengers, and from the beginning of the earth, so too were there angels. It is said that at one point in time, angels were without a hierarchy, and that all angels were to be messengers and liaisons between their Father and his people, as well as carry out specific tasks. Uriel specifically had many tasks.
Uriel's story begins with the creation of the Garden of Eden, as Uriel was one of the angels with the flaming swords. He was the keeper of the Garden of Eden, guard over Tartarus. He was sent to the prophet Ezra to instruct him and guide him, and he buried Adam and Abel in paradise. At the massacre of innocents, he rescued John the Baptist, and was the one to contact Noah and warn him of the impending flood. He also was the fiery angel who passed over the doors marked doors the night of the 10th plague in Egypt, and the one who lead Abraham to the west during the End of Times. He, like all the angels, had their duties and their devotions. Not all the angels, however, remained devoted to their place. While the angels were commanded to watch over the people, some of them took to lust after them. They laid with the women, procreated, and created the Nephilim, half angel, half human. The Nephilim, or Grigori, were dangerous to mankind, and against the wishes of the angel's father.
"And it came to pass when the children of men had multiplied that in those days were born unto them beautiful and comely daughters. And the angels, the children of the heaven, saw and lusted after them, and said to one another: 'Come, let us choose us wives from among the children of men and beget us children.' And Semjaza, who was their leader, said unto them: 'I fear ye will not indeed agree to do this deed, and I alone shall have to pay the penalty of a great sin.' And they all answered him and said: 'Let us all swear an oath, and all bind ourselves by mutual imprecations not to abandon this plan but to do this thing.' Then sware they all together and bound themselves by mutual imprecations upon it. And they were in all two hundred; who descended in the days of Jared on the summit of Mount Hermon..."Those angels became the fallen, and were cast into Tartarus. The seven who pleaded on the behalf of mankind, Uriel among them, became the commonly known archangels. It was then that the hierarchy was established, Uriel a Prince of the Presence and one of the highest ranking beside Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel. He was one of the four pillars of the angelic world. He became the Archangel of Redemption, a Patron of the Arts, Poetry and Wisdom, Angel of Repentance, of Sunday, holder of the key to the Pit, and the sole protector of the key to the Garden of Eden. Against the Nephilim, he lead heaven's armies as their General, and with his wrath, saw them destroyed and judged.
Things are a bit different now. After all, going from being the Light and Fire of God to a body-bound minister was not an easy transition.
Such a transition required several things: adjusting to the limitations being placed in a fleshy body, obtaining human-like attributes, and assimilating into society. The attributes were simple enough, and mortals were a blessing in helping Uriel with clothes, learning the ins and outs of casual contact, and assisted them with finding a profession. Down on earth, Uriel has had several names, but is currently known to mortals as Aiden Lucas. It wasn't a random choice, and the Patron of Poetry could not miss the chance to let his name allude to something. Lucas is notably for "light". Aiden for "fire." Adjusting to life wasn't about simply taking a name, however, or finding a job. These heavenlies had to withstand the turn of entire centuries without suspicion. Or, in many ways, at least avoid it when it mattered. The one fantastic thing about being on earth so long? He watched technology come about, and thankfully, grew rather adept at it. (Most of the House of Seraphim are attached to their cell phones and can't function without them. At least not professionally.) His flaming sword, a divine weapon entrusted to him in the very beginning of man, really didn't have a place in the rise of the modern era. With the times, his weapon changed, and now is currently a very particular rifle...which I will get into.
Since being placed on earth, the world has rapidly changed around him. Uriel has been minded by--and loved--hundreds of mortals. Among the more famous include Geoffrey Chaucer, the father of English literature, Thomas Cochrane, a famous captain in England's Royal Navy during the Napoleonic Wars, and Theodore Herzl, a famous Zionist of the late 19th century. There are certain things that he's gotten used to after several centuries in a corporeal body, which is very much like immortality thrust into a mortal casing. Tolerances and powers aren't quite what they used to be. His language changed, and they way he looked at people greatly differed. Once he was far more known for how harsh he had been; living besides humans, after hundreds of years saw his edges soften. He has been shaped, irrevocably, by the humans he kept close as minders and apprentices.
His blessings are manifestations of his own powers, with limitations. His Master-minders are gifted with fire and light control. It's a sort of given energy, the physical exhibition of it the master's choice (whether light or flame). The most recent two masters have been armed with a Taurus PT92 engraved with "Hell is Yourself." His apprentices are gifted with intuition, and occasional full-blown premonitions, with light control to a lesser degree. The most recent two have been armed with a Beretta 92FS engraved with "Courage is Salvation." His master minder is currently Eden Ignacia, a professional subordinate of his, and his apprentice minder is currently Magda Burkova, someone he helped walk away from a darker path.
Currently, he lives in England. It's a common theme in his life, and it's the more favoured of the countries he made his home in through the centuries. The Judeo-Christian house of Seraphim (like the Grecco-Roman house with their OlympiCorps) banded together and more often than not lived in the same country. They, however, are different in that they each hold a different position within public services. Michael has taken a position within the London Metropolitan Police as a detective. Gabriel is a barrister, Barachiel gives humanitarian aid to the English government, and Rafael is a surgeon. Uriel originally was military, trained as an Ammunition Technical Officer in the Royal Logistic Corps. Essentially, he was EOD, or in the Explosive Ordinance Disposal. Overseas, his primary job was to diffuse and reduce the amount of explosive threats. This included his handling of "conventional munitions and home made bombs," as well as "chemical, biological, incendiary, radiological (dirty bombs), and nuclear weapons." (Quote taken from Wikipedia). After several tours overseas, he retired from the military, having earned the rank of Major, to become a Commander as head of the CO19. Essentially, Uriel runs London's equivalent of the American SWAT team. His flaming sword? Now a variation of the standard-issue Heckler and Koch G36 Assault rifle.
In addition to his duties with the CO19, Uriel also does work as a probation officer. It's the easiest way to link his heavenly duties with his position in the London Met, hoping to guide sheep gone astray back to their shepherd. It worked particularly well in one case. Magdalena Burkova was a small-time thief for something far more large-scale than herself. As her probation officer, Uriel made her an informant, and later, his apprentice under the promise of her reformation and cooperation in bringing down the bigger dogs in the evil she'd once participated in. It isn't an entirely successful story, however. Magda isn't a particularly faith-filled woman, even with the evidence right in front of her. She doesn't believe in a god as much as she sees Uriel as more of a walking miracle. Faith in him is, for her, more like returning a favour. He had faith in her, and it's only right that she have faith in him. She lives in London, but under cover. Unlike Uriel and Eden, her visits with him are sparse and less frequent. Most of their contact is by phone. Meeting too often is dangerous for her otherwise.
Part of his military retirement was due to an incident that happened in Kabul. His then-apprentice, Eden Ignacia, and minder were both in his squadron that found themselves in Kabul. It's a well known story between the two of them, but something that's rarely spoken of. Something went wrong with that bomb diffusing, and that night, Uriel's attempt at routine blew sky high. He explained it to Eden some years later this way:
It was a combination. Unlike anything we'd seen before. Standard TATP and TNT. Five cylinder. What we didn't expect was that the detonator was cross wired with a simcard latched to a plastic. PETN.There was nothing the angel could have done. The shockwave, the initial blow that had ripped through both of them, inflicted the human master-minder with blast induced injury of his air-containing organs. Uriel had protected him from the flames, but both of them were slammed into the dusty walls of the building. Shielded by Uriel's wings, the man had already been dead. It's one of the trickier things about a mortal coil. The mortal coil isn't exactly a typical human body. With an angel inside, the limitations are pushed far further. Yes, Uriel narrowly scraped dying that night, but he certainly shouldn't have lived otherwise. Rafael had been his only means of survival. (God bless those still-functioning wings.)
[Kabul had always been filled with threats. Not always against them, the states, or military. Sometimes it was against their own people.]
Too many innocents were at risk, and we didn't have time. Simcard meant detonation at any time. Soon as they knew we were on it...
[A pause. He wants to look down. There isn't a day he doesn't feel the guilt and regret of what happened. But he can't stop looking her in the eyes. Uriel regrets it for his former man, and he regrets this for her.]
The mistake was in the choice to try and work through it, assuming since that since they were using plating and wasn't the typical lightbulb detonator, it was higher end.
It shorted out.
[She'll know from all her experiences what he means. It was no lack of skill. It wasn't the type of bomb, but the materials used. The wires were poorly rigged, and the metals used of cheaper make.]
He and I were right on top of it, Eden.
[It wasn't the fire, it wasn't the poison-dipped shrapnel that ripped out of the jacket, or the flames.]
I couldn't protect him from the blast. I couldn't protect either of us.
There's a painful understanding between Uriel and his current minder, Eden, that she never forgave him for failing to protect the man who taught her everything. She hadn't expected to rise from apprenticeship when he died of natural causes, but she also hadn't been prepared to step up so early. It took the events of early 2012 to give her reason enough to understand, and for Uriel to give her the explanation she needed.
Which brings us to the events of Universalis, which, in a short quip of a summary, is: Belial is a magnificent dick.
In this particular world, one where all of these beautiful pantheons only keep alive through faith, someone was very clever. In order to remove faith, one simply removes all proof that such a thing exists. For Uriel, this was devastating. In the year 745, Pope Saint Zachary sought to diminish the worship of angels by striking the vast majority of the archangels from canon. Uriel was among them. Thankfully, the licit angels were not the only ones that remained written about. Yet when all relics, written records, paintings, and buildings holding any scrap of mythological anything were burned and destroyed, even entire houses with mass followings were brought to their knees. Houses that formerly could not have given a damn (quite literally) about one another banded together, albeit with great reluctance. The Greeks and Romans, even after centuries, were still none too happy about the Judeo-Christians that had stomped all over their parade. They worked together regardless, and Uriel flew from England over to Chicago just to pay Hermes a visit. He knew they would need each other's information. The Morrigan later revealed a prophecy to all the houses, and with that information, teams of pantheons struggled to piece together the clues. Anansi the Spider, a previous cohort of Belial's, tried to get out just a little too late. He leaked just enough to give the gods and angels enough, but not without a price.
Belial pulled a very clever hat trick. Five clues, five different locations, and a very well-placed bomb threat. The moment there had been reports through the military grapevine that the Novgorod Museum of History was under lockdown, Uriel knew there was no other option than to get out to that aged city with all due haste. Russia's city of Velikiy Novgorod is teeming with churches, chapels, and structures dating back to the twelfth century, as well as a once unquestioned center for book production. Of course. How could he not have thought about it before? How had they missed this? There was only one option for Uriel. Get down into the museum, throw his military rank from the United Kingdom around and find out just what the hell had been pulled. Lockdowns always meant one or both of two things: bombs and hostages. The angel was lucky in one regard: no hostages. Every hall and building was devoid of people, and the city's policing forces, tactical teams, and specialists were all assembling outside to quickly organize how the situation would be taken care of. Uriel was alone in the archaeological wing with a room rigged to blow. There wasn't time to get things out. There just wasn't time, no matter how desperately he wished there was. Nor was it safe. He wasn't risking this being another Kabul all over again. Eden would never forgive him. He wouldn't forgive himself. At three minutes to 4am, Uriel's fingers bled from twisting and untwisting so many wires. There should have been a whole team on this, but he didn't have a choice. At two minutes to 4, he heard a click across the room. Two seconds later, the entire museum detonated in a daisy chain of fire and shrapnel. He'd run out of time.
At 4:10 in the morning, Russian time, every deity and every minder with a phone gets a message from Uriel, and it's a devastating one. While Uriel had tried desperately to save a museum, he'd been deliberately distracted. The bomb was a psychological flank in this battle. Tartarus was open, and Belial, Chronus, the 200 Grigori, and every other soul once cast inside was free. Uriel desperately called every house to arms, and with what strength he had left, drug his body into the St. Sophia chapel. In one last desperate text, he called for Raphael and begged his Minder and Apprentice to have faith.
It was a long wait for the sanctity of his brother's arms. Uriel had been fortunate in one way, though his luck that day was relative in all that had happened. The chapel and its clergy were a haven despite his obvious connection--somehow--to the museum. They helped him to a place of refuge, there before the altar, leaving him to be in its sanctuary. For as old as St. Sophia is and as much as the church's walls have witnessed, Uriel was not the most unnatural thing they could give refuge to. It was the flickering sight of wings, hanging and battered from Uriel's body, that gave those men of faith enough to let him stay. They were never given his name, nor did they ask. Uriel was long ago stripped of his rank by the church. He would not dare.
Meanwhile, the five locational clues for where Belial was headed were chased down. Persephone, Ate, and Penthos headed for Jerusalem. Under the instruction of the Angels, Eden did what she could. She flew to the city, blended in, and kept her ear to the ground. The angels, after pulling together in the St. Sophia Cathedral knew where they belonged, back in their city of gold. Leaving Raphael behind, collapsed after healing Uriel with what strength he had left, the rest of the angels flew to Jerusalem in a flurry of feathers and vengeance. The heavenlies joined Persephone, the Erinyes, Ate, Penthos, and Eden in a stand down with the one and only Belial. The only problem? Belial had rigged the museum housing the Dead Sea Scrolls to blow. (Oh, Uriel was not a happy camper.)
That isn't to say it stopped the fight. It was Holy Fire vs. Hell Fire in another damned area rigged to blow. It could have been bad, and should have been.
Thankfully, all's well that ends well.
Uriel, at the point right before I intend to bring him in, is in the stages of reshuffling priorities. He's seriously considering stepping down from the CO19 as commander, but can't seem to let go of the position. Instead, he's trading his focus of hours, putting more time in as a corrections officer and less with the CO19. Not easy to convince the bosses of, but at least he's got a few inside Seraphim to pull strings for him. Nothing quite like brothers in the right places. (Doctor's orders are also a miraculous thing.)
He still, however, has a lot to answer for. Tartarus may be re-sealed with every soul put back in, but there still remains the fact that Uriel was its guard, and that prison got sprung. He's not particularly looking forward to that conversation with Daddy.
Personality:
"In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his presence saved them: in his love and in his pity he redeemed them; and he bare them, and carried them all the days of old."
Uriel is a complicated creature, for such a simplistic creation. His six most prominent character traits are the following:
FORGIVING
Uriel, is by nature, a forgiving soul. After all, what hopes for redemption would there be if he wasn't? Uriel is forgiving nearly to a fault, and in some cases, it is very much a weakness of his. One particularly good example of this is his continued, albeit confusing, relationship with Astaroth. Astaroth was once an angel, and became one of the fallen, taking his place as the Archduke of hell. One would think that the two could not be more polar opposite. Astaroth seeks to corrupt, gives in to all pleasures he can, and relishes ruffling angel feathers. Uriel tries to steer all he can on the correct path, maintains himself through self-control, and is steadfastly loyal to his cause and his place in the order of things. In those regards, they are opposites, but very much two sides of the same coin. Despite all the antagonism they have for one another on a surface level, there are so many feelings that they bury due to what they have to represent. The fact that they used to guard hell together, that they both have a very stern idea of who they are and are stubborn as angels can get makes them so similar in many ways. Yet that one defining moment when Astaroth fell with the others was hard. Uriel oversaw the punishment of some of those fallen angels and announced their judgement... yet it was not without great sorrow on his part. Uriel is such a guilty creature, and he still feels so guilty about what happened. Astaroth used to be the brother he was closest with, and now that there has been a line drawn between them as archangel and demon, some things have changed. Those feelings toward Astaroth... haven't. It doesn't help that Astaroth feels he was unjustly stripped of his angeldom.IMMATURE
He doesn't like who Astaroth has become in many ways, but he still sees his brother. He still sees everything he loved. Uriel's greatest gift is his greatest curse: he can see the best of anyone. It's no secret the fall of the other angels was a harsh and hot-button issue that gives light to a lot of the harder edges to who Uriel's Father is. Sentimentality makes even a Prince of the Presence yearn.
Still, such faith in souls has been his saving grace. Like Magdalena, there are many people whom he has reached out to, and his faith in them granted him something precious. They gave theirs in return. For an angel struck from canon, it's one of the sweetest things, and Uriel is the one angel out of all of his brothers that sees it in that light.
That does not make Uriel, however, a pushover. He is hard on those he cares for, and truly believes that redemption is something one must reach for. A person has to redeem themselves. They have to want it, which is a desire Uriel longs to inspire in many. He can't save the unwilling, and there are some who are beyond his reach. The truly wicked invite retribution, punishment, and judgement. The truly lost are destined to wander alone into the fires. He feels little guilt in delivering a soul--typically via death by cleansing fire-- to his Father who he knows will not be kept at His side. It isn't his place to, nor is it in his heart. Forgiveness is balanced with fairness and justice, and that is something Uriel will never forsake.
Just because he's a soldier, a fighter, and an angel does not mean he is a stick-in-the-mud. (That's a far more appropriate description of his brother, dear Gabriel, who is well known for his line-facing and lack of humour.) Uriel has his indulgences, which shouldn't be all that surprising. Acting human has given him the chance to create a persona, and when a persona is assumed for as long as he has, it's easy to start becoming what he created. Uriel's personality is, because of this, quite human, complete with desires for simple things such as entertainment, creature comforts, and hobbies. The master-minder previous to Eden introduced Uriel to videogames, and that has been a long and outrageous affair, for videogames have become one of Uriel's favourite activities.PROTECTIVE / SOLDIERING
So many aspects of his existence are stern, grave, and often times grim. His personality is a natural resistance to it, but not in a rebellious manner. He is playful because he wishes to be, and because seeking joys will keep him from wavering. The way he finds his joys, however, are questionable.
Uriel has several bizarre quirks, one of which being his penchant for not putting clothes on when in the vicinity of his own home. He's not one to shave, and when demanded to by Eden, he typically pouts. He's not a trickster, in fact, he's brutally honest. Yet his honest-to-god statements can be said in a way that pokes fun at them. He's not above joking, and in fact, enjoys it.. Comparing himself to the Human Torch in the Fantastic Four is only one example of that sort of humour. Really, Uriel outside of his duty is something of a highschool boy nerd in a 30-year-old body. He plays World of Warcraft--human holy paladin was the obvious choice--and owns the NES gaming system, complete with the very first Mario Bros. game. He plays said games in grungy clothing, fully accompanied by junk food and boxed leftovers.
It's a good thing, indeed, that Eden lives with him, and reminds him of his ridiculousness and that even angels need to shower and put something decently good-looking on when going out in public. Uriel isn't one for appearances outside of professionalism. You can bet his uniforms are perfect, but otherwise, he goes for comfortable more than flattering. It takes a woman and a particularly stubborn one at that to get him in anything remotely dashing, and you can bet money that when a suit is involved, so too is there yelling. She tends to throw things at him to get her point across, and it's one of the methods that works. That is commentary on Uriel in and of itself, let alone his broody childishness otherwise.
Another terrible trait of Uriel's is that he's not very adept at holding his liquor and foolishly goes past his limits on nearly every occasion without fail. That isn't to say he's an alcoholic; when does a CO19 commander really have time to go drinking? But once a month, the team gets together, and it's well known that their head officer is bound to get interesting. Interesting isn't meant in a destructive way, however. It's meant in the, "Well, he got into a cab with a woman he didn't know, whispered in her ear, Jesus was here and bailed out of it while it was moving." Or, infamously, one night's interesting was Tonight's trip to the ER was brought to you by, 'fork jousting.'
Uriel's existence has been a soldiering one. For an angel who is, at times confused, he is the least so when he is out and physically fighting for something. In the days where he roamed between heaven and earth, he brandished a fiery sword, led the armies against the Grigori and fought on the side of his people during the holy wars. He rescued, he fought for humanity to be spared, and actively fought in a less militaristic sense to be the source of light that led people on a more righteous path. He is highly protective of the average Joe, and even moreso of his brothers, his Father, and the humans that stay at his side.RECKLESS
Being an archangel, sacrifices are a part of life, and in some cases, highly easy. There is no doubt, even as a mortal, that he would lay himself in the line of fire on behalf of an innocent, or even a guilty yet undeserving party. In his field of duty, he has taken direct fire. Gunfire, to be exact. His former military service--both in the Napoleonic Wars, and in the modern era--saw that he stood and fought to protect his country from something grave. As an ATO, he would be the man to walk up to a bomb and attempt to diffuse it. Risky doesn't quite cover it, and he chose the position specifically to keep another man from having that very task. Just to keep a single man from possibly detonating.
Uriel has softened with time. He still remains the Archangel of Redemption, and therefore stands as the ultimate judge for who is righteous enough. He's spent so much time learning to forgive people and guide them towards redemption that he's begun to spend too much time forgiving them for their actions. Unfortunately, he's beginning to take on human weaknesses as a part of that. Because the church stripped him of his rank in their eyes a long time ago, it really doesn't help. He's one of those angels that is walking a fine, fine line between staying with his Father and brothers and falling.It's not that he wants to fall, it's that he's learned to love people too much.FAITHFUL
To counter that, Uriel throws himself into his work. He doesn't listen to what his body begs of him. He works two jobs after a full military career, and refuses to let go of a dangerous profession that nearly killed him before. He's the first one into a line of fire and the last to back down. Injuries don't phase him, and he's gotten unhealthily good at ignoring pain. Uriel, essentially, runs himself into the ground with duty.
Angels don't get tired, but the body does, and Uriel is one to push himself to go without sleep for weeks at a time. Several of them do, and, when they need it, they find one another. Uriel always seeks Raphael, and with a few hours of desperate rest beside his brother, he restores himself...enough. Enough to run back into the thick of everything he can get his hands on.
Uriel is, like all his brothers, completely devoted to his task, to his Father, to the people, and to them.Abilities, Weaknesses and Power Limitations:
His faith, however, isn't blind. He knows who his Father is and what he is like, having paid witness to some of the harsher judgements exacted on some poor souls. His faithfulness comes with understanding, and with understanding comes devotion. Because in his devotion, he is a source of strength for my brothers, for his Father, and all whom he serves, he will never tire from it. He also has faith enough in his brothers that they will be sources of strength in their own varying ways.
Faith is a strong part of who Uriel is, and not just because he feels forever bound to his task and his family. Uriel is perhaps the most faithful because he encourages faith in an untraditional way. He encourages humans to have faith in themselves, faith that they have what they need, be that strength or desire, courage or modesty, etc. He preaches faith because it is the only thing he believes will save them, not because they ought to have faith in his Father, or his brothers, or himself, but because faith in its entirety will see that they lead themselves toward personal redemption.
Daniel Odell, a former priest-in-training who wanted to enter the clergy, is a perfect example of this. In an hour of despair, he became an apprentice to a demon. At some point, he sought out Uriel and asked if there was any hope for him at all. Uriel proposed a metaphor. "Your shirt. Your shirt is your soul, and its worthiness its cleanliness. Your doings are its state, and your damnation--or salvation--rests on how you care for it. Your tools are your will... or your washer, and your self control. Mind your stains, Daniel. So long as, perhaps, they can be lifted." The answer? It's up to Daniel. Is there hope for him? Yes. But it had better be his and he had better have faith enough to make it happen. Faith in redemption is no cause for blindness to evil, and so it has to come from a willingness to act upon it. Uriel said,"Faith is useless if it is blind. The faithful may pray but recitation without heart is worthless. Father does not expect perfection, but begs that we strive to better ourselves for him. If one angel among the thousand can plead for a man's fate, they will be delivered. You have to deliver yourself, Daniel. You have to do what you can. Save them because they deserve to be saved. Help them be spared not to spare yourself, but because you are forgiving."In that way, Uriel is truly nothing if not faithful. Even when talking about family with Apollo, the Greek deity found such unshakeable and stalwart faith nearly unbelievable. He couldn't imagine the 12 Olympians ever having such love for one another as the one Uriel expressed his angelic brothers have. Uriel explained it, "My brotherhood is founded on love, and that gives it unquestionable strength. We draw from one another." He doesn't judge the other houses, but the certainly make for an example. Particularly the Greeks. "That isn't to say families can't have that same bond; they are offered the choice not to. Your family's bonds are either strengthened or weakened by your choices, and theirs. My choices are made because of the bonds I have because they will always be my choice."
Abilities -
Uriel is still the Light/Fire of God, which gives him quite a few abilities. Firstly, he can physically harness light as he wishes. It's a part of his body, and in the case of fire, something he can cast from himself. It's rather nifty, being the flame itself. At one point, when texting Astaroth, the archduke of hell, Uriel made the joke: "flame on." It was a reference to the Fantastic Four, yes, but it's also not entirely inaccurate. He can turn those flames on and off without batting an eyelash. It takes quite a bit to burn this angel, and you had better believe he is not someone to toy with. After all, isn't there that one phrase for it? "Those who play with fire get their fingers burned." This is someone that can singe you to charcoal a la holy fire.Weaknesses -
Secondly, Uriel is gifted with premonitions. There are certain pieces of the puzzle that he gets before everyone else. No, he doesn't have the whole picture, but occasionally, there is something he knows is coming. The one lovely thing about prophecy without context is that it doesn't help all that much. There's usually never a timestamp on a sudden image, unsupported fact, or simple know-how. Usually, such premonitions act as support for the intuitions and hunches that everyone else possesses. Uriel just has, so to speak, a little bit of spiritual backup for his gut feelings.
About that fleshy body...Uriel has a slight upper hand in the realm of transport. Wings. Ah yes, the staple of what most featherbutts are. Secondary to the halo, of course, which is a load of human myth. Thankfully wings are not, and as a corporeal part of an angel's body... they undoubtedly come in handy. A lot. They are, however, manageably invisible to humans. It really takes minimal effort and thought to keep them hidden, a skill so well honed that no angel ever really thinks about it. The best way to demonstrate that is that, within the Universalis canon, the only time Uriel could not manage to hide his wings was after the explosion in the Novgorod Museum. Nearly all evidence of any mythological being had been wiped off the face of the earth, and he was physically just trying to stay alive long enough for his brothers to get there, specifically Raphael.
The question might come to beg how, in a human body, can an angel manage so many things? The best way to explain it, I think, is that angels were ephemeral before they became grounded by flesh. The angel never tires, the angel never hungers. The body does. There's a small passage from a story that best says it:‘Don’t you get tired too?’ she asked.Let's not forget the very human ability he has. Uriel is not only a warrior of heaven, he's a soldier of the earth. (You had better bet he knows how to wield a sword. Just like riding a bike.) In modern-day warfare, he's about as equipped in skills as it comes. Serving several tours overseas and having studied within a military school, it's obvious that Uriel knows his stuff. That includes hand-to-hand combat, handguns and rifles (including automatic and semiautomatic), and all his training with explosives. He's tactical, sharp, and able to remain in a head position of the CO19. He handles hostage situations, bomb threats, and heaven knows what else as a part of the job description. He's a fighter for a living, and fighting is one of the more comfortable states he can be in.
The angel shook his head. ‘No, angels don’t get tired. We’re not made of flesh and blood. It’s flesh and blood that gets tired.’
Elisabet felt a bit embarrassed. Of course angels didn’t get tired! If they did, they wouldn’t have the strength to fly up and down between heaven and earth.'
—The Christmas Mystery, Jostein Gaarder
He has a hodgepodge of random talents from picking up things over the centuries. The guitar is one, which is likely his most beloved of the hobbies he's acquired. He has a knack for making pancakes, and plays a killer game of Whist. Not that anyone plays that game any more, for only grandpas play Bridge and Whist was the precurser to that! Hooray for the British Navy. At some point in the 1960's he tried to paint but found himself mediocre at it. Occasionally, he'll paint the walls of his own house with an impromptu mural.
Uriel has found that, in the most recent years and with the near destruction of everything with Belial, he has a fear. A very real one, and one that isn't unwarranted. He's scared that, in dwelling and living and loving all these human beings, he is on the verge of sinning the way his fallen brothers had. How can one draw a line between living amongst and dwelling with? He loves too much, and that's the greatest flaw he has.
That being said, Uriel cannot judge himself. He judges all of humankind, glimpses at their flaws, and does what he can to help guide them. Still, he is only as much as the faith people have in him. He was struck from religious canon centuries ago, and that was a blow that hurt emotionally. The ties he refuses to sever with Astaroth are also not the wisest of choices.
He's also completely horrible at taking care of himself. His reckless nature is not without its tolls, and more often than not, Uriel is driving himself into the ground. He doesn't think about how fallible he is, because he can't. If he does, he's scared to death he'll make the one mistake that sends him plummeting from the heavens.
Inventory: His CO19 officer badge, an arm sleeve with the patch of his division and rank as a commander, and his flaming sword. While it has more recently been in the form of the Heckler and Koch G36, I think it would be altogether more fun to have it go back to being a sword blazing with holy fire. Not exactly covert, but that's the beauty of it.
Appearance: Uriel (Aiden Lucas) is played by Ben Foster, who occasionally can look less derpish. He is 5'9", has pale green eyes, and typically wears his hair as a shaggy mop of blonde that's naturally wavy. He usually has a bit of stubble on his face, as more often than not, his minder will make him shave if it gets too noticeably there. He's unassuming in street clothes, as he typically chooses looser shirts, scarves, and pants that are comfortable. He practically lives in his uniform otherwise. The only noticeable feature -- wings aside -- is a single tattoo. It's between his shoulders, high up just beneath his neck as to rest over his wings, and reads "Contritrium Praecedit Supurbia." Translation, "Pride comes before fall."
Age: Uriel doesn't have an age, but his identification card says he's 31.
AU Clarification: none
SAMPLES
Log Sample: [Writing exercise; if Uriel fell. Music: November, by Max Richter.]
He didn’t expect something cataclysmic when he fell. He didn’t expect there to be a physical plummet, or a collision. The Angel knew all too well that in the grand scheme--one that is, indeed, grand--of the Judeo-Christian House of Seraphim, his fall would be a ripple in its serenity. He knew it would hurt. He had anticipated the pang, deep within his heart, that ached for his brothers, that there would be a cold sting when his Father’s holy fires were stripped away from him. He figured that it would be a dark fall, as he would no longer stand a bearer of light or be able to wield it.
He hadn’t expected the rain. It poured hideously that day, his first steps into the streets of London met with torrential storm. He was soaked in less than a minute, and for that he was glad he hadn’t worn his uniform. His station had always been a matter of pride, as had his title as Prince of the Presence. He’d likely be stripped of both now. The rain saturated everything with wet, matting his clothes to his skin, hair to his face, and streaking rivulets down his corporeal form. His wings weighed with all of that wet, feathers bristled and shrugged down. Hadn’t this once been cleansing?
He hadn’t expected the true fall, the plummet of his soul suddenly taking a dive out of the heavens. His whole body, whilst walking along the road, felt as though it had been hoisted a kilometer high and dropped. He tripped over his own shoe when the feeling took hold and his limbs threw him at the concrete. He scraped his nose and his right cheek. His feet had never left the ground, yet he knew in that moment, it had happened.
A form that typically ran hot in temperature felt remarkably like the day when mythology started disappearing from the shelves. For the second time in his entire existence, he shuddered.
No, there hadn’t been any miraculous event… but this… he could never expect.
Comms Sample:
[He palmed the device, one that was remarkably like his cell phone and had taken little adjustments to get used to. Really, there was very little that the angel had been shocked by. Space had been something to get used to, but this ship was hardly as militaristic as it could have been, and that would have been something of a glimmer of home. So, Uriel is without his duties to the CO19 due to his absence, god help them. He was without the ability to speak with his brothers, his minders, or those who looked to him as their corrections officer. Lovely. In summary? Uriel was bored.
Voice broadcast to the ship it is!]
Right then. So, I've gotten used to the uniforms. Not much different from the one I had back home, though the lack of kevlar is something to adjust to. It has a weight, if you've worn it, and for me, it was like waking up without a watch you'd worn for centuries around your neck. Ghost watch, that eerie feeling.
Ballistic material aside, I've got too many hours in my day to make blessings of and absolutely nothing to fill them with entertainment wise. Not a chance for World of Warcraft, or even the retro-awesome that is Super Mario Brothers. This doesn't seem the place for social smoking, and my partner isn't here, but I'm gasping for a video game or a smoke. I'm gasping without an idea to ward away the ennui.
Unless, by some chance, any of you want to talk. Old fashioned, yes, but I'm a Brit that can do more than chit-chat and the weather. Really, I'd like to get to know who it is I'm on this ship with. I like comic books, beer, and if I had my guitar, I'd be playing things in the hallways.
Three of you wouldn't happen to know an old card game? Trick taking, gambling, and older than Horatio Nelson, I'd consider myself lucky if someone would play a game of whist. Heavens, that would be nostalgic.
... the ship does have playing cards, doesn't it?