#| ☩ Ariel Thread: 01: eternalwhite: Veronika ☩ |

[caeruleis]

@eternalwhite​ (Starter Call) 

   Scattered lights of blues, reds, and yellows bathed the marble floors of the old chapel in a rainbow glow where they filtered in through the elaborate stained glass windows. Shards of rumble and glass were scatted on and between the scarred pews that ran along the tainted walls - their usual white color now littered with stains of crimson and mahogany until they stopped short of the alter at the center back of the building. The stench of smoke and steel and blood was thick even within these four walls, and, when his gaze lifted upwards towards shattered windows, the usual soft blue of the skies had been dyed a bright orange and deep gray. And the sounds of warfare could still be heard, muffled as they might have been by the cackle of smoke and the roar of fire, from well beyond the aged door. The cacophony of steel striking steel and the shouts that rang out beside it nearly drowned out the hushed whimpering of the handful of humans tucked away on the floor between the pews that bounced off of the walls. Their fearful sobs muffled by their gloved hands and their chattering teeth mellowed the noise of their thick coats as they shivered against one another. He could hear their frightened conversation from where he stood by the door - how they spoke of salvation and hope all while their hearts pumped a thousand miles a minute within their chests. 

       In a way, he was envious of their ability to feel terror and cling to desperation - of their ability to feel the tremor of their hearts within their bodies. When his hand lifted to press the tips of hardened fingers against his own chest, his core removed entirely unmoving and wholly silent. And he could feel nothing save for the artificial blood that flowed through his makeshift veins. Something inhuman. And not unlike the other archangel that had turned against their maker and started this war upon a world that had never belonged to them. He had been on the other side before, as well - he was far from innocent, but he grew weary after the war began to carry on, and now found himself tip-toeing the line between his desire for rebellion and his lack of will to involve humans in a conflict that didn’t involve them. In the end, his own opinion and abilities mattered little. He could scarcely think for himself let alone feel much of anything - created empty and hollow for a set purpose. The other archangels who had stripped themselves of their divine titles and waved the flag of the fallen proudly as they mingled with the metahumans to start a riot were passionate creatures. Even if he were to join them once more - even if, by some miracle - he were able to meet their maker or even the Supreme Primarch himself, he wouldn’t have been able to change their fate. He was more a device than a living being.

      And, yet, he harbored enough free will to linger in the chapel - away from the terrified humans who had rushed through its doors to take shelter. To choose to protect the humans huddled inside despite the fact that he had little desire to engage with his brethren should it come to that. But the city has mostly fallen now - he imagines the people gathered here might very well be the last remaining survivors of this human settlement. Though, he can’t even begin to say what had lead him to that choice. However, it remained his and his alone. Possibly the first choice he’s made of his own accord in the few thousand years since his creation. So fingers curl against dark fabric - the gentle rattle of the chains gathered about his hand echoes through the hall. And he swallows against the frigid air when he hears footsteps just beyond the door. On instinct, he takes a few silent steps back to put distance between himself and whoever laid beyond. Though fear was hardly the reason - he was incapable of feeling such a thing - but he was better suited for long distance combat if the need arose.   

      The chains wrapped about his hands began to vibrate as his muscles tensed when he noticed the door tremble, and then, after a moment, it opened to a whirlwind of ice and snow that poured in from the harsh weather inside. Behind him, he heard the group yelp in surprise - and they dove beneath the pews. Amber irises lifted to greet the stranger - her silver hair fluttering in the frigid breeze that had come with her. But his own muscles relaxed after a moment. Though not mortal like the humans hidden from view beyond him were, she wasn’t one of his kind either - something in-between, perhaps. It mattered little to him. “And you are?” His tone is overly rude, but it is blunt. Monotone and devoid of emotion entirely. Despite how forward he is, there’s a certain formality to it. Though he moves to position himself better between her and the humans - their startled screams having already made their presence within the chapel apparent so there was little reason to pretend they weren’t there. “Though I dislike fighting, if you’ve come to do them harm I will stop you.” The words feel strange when spoken from his tongue - in his own lackluster and distant voice. He doesn’t know why he’s come to protect them. He doesn’t understand what’s driving him now. “Though...if you’ve come to take them somehow safer I can be of assistance to you...I believe.” He almost sounds like a machine rather than a organic being.