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sardar106 · 2 months

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This is for anyone who wants to make/find any Sherbverse, Fable SMP, Bound SMP and Mer SMP roleplay accounts!

The characters who have more than one account will also be added

I will put the Sherbversions in their specific world too, but both but Midas and Charles will be only on the sherbverse list

The list will go alphabetically (hopefully)

Tell me if I missed any and if new ones are made!

Not that I’ve seen any, but I should have said this before. Do not, and I mean do not make an rp account of anyone who stated that they aren’t okay with them.

Sherbverse

Sherberts:

Ashril: pigeon-prince-or-something, run-run-roadrunner Ajax: ajax-lightning-zephyr, lighting-in-my-veins, thunder-twink Caine: the-better-coyote Cedar: cedars-potionshop EP-S110N56 (Epsilon): error-404-location-not-found Helix: hidden-amongst-the-dark, eyeblood-engineer Icarus: icarus-morningstar, icarixis-morningstar, icarus-m0rningstar, a-little-tragedy-arent-you, gilded-wings-and-golden-hearts Krithos: kritos-dawn Midas: colorful-shades-of-gray, quixis-midas, your-guardian-this-millennia, rainbow-decay Reo: armoured-fighter, cracked-armour, theyoungeststellam Ripley: navigating-spectral-seas Sherbert: elf-lad-says-things Sherwood: sleepy-pirate-person

Sherbverse misc:

Azalea: local-herb-lady Castrel: castrel-is-hunting Charles: charles-and-no-one-else Emma: emmie-ocie-golden Graeme: the-betterstellam Hayraen: hey-a-skyrate Helios: helios-event Lily: the-lil-lady Rae (Among Us): scientist-in-orbit Rayko: host-of-curses Rondael: rondael-richard Theia: flowers-by-a-different-name

Sherbverse AUs:

Band AU! Midas: under-rainbow-spotlights Band AU! Icarus: bird-song-shines, songbird-soars Corrupt! Icarus: wilted-feathers Midas as new Quixis: rainbows-of-flashing-lights Icarus as young Quixis: lost-in-the-bright-lights Icarus raised by Fable: prince-of-the-gilded ^^^ + younger than Rae: im-prince-icarus Icarus raised by Ulysses: bird-underwater Icarus raised by moms: icarus-mindstar Icarus with wither sickness, wack, and decay: protector-of-decay

Fable SMP

Characters:

Aax: thebesttesttubeuncle, tiny-perseus Arisanna: the-librari Athena: athena-morningstar, small-athena, withering-alliums Caspian: caspian-solcrect Centross: centross-mistvale, baby-reaper Easton: easton-pine, professorpine Fenris: fenris-nightingal Haley: oracle-haley Icarus: icarus-morningstar, icarixis-morningstar, icarus-m0rningstar, a-little-tragedy-arent-you, gilded-wings-and-golden-hearts Jamie/Bruin: bruin-pine Momboo: momboo-pine, rain-and-rotting-flowers Oceana: ocean-bringer Rae: rae-m0rningstar, vessel-of-wonder, tiny-raemorningstar, rae-morningstar13, little-rae-morningstar13 Seven: that-one-robot-guy Ulesses: ulysses-themist Ven: reclusive-author, notafakeginger, wet-fox-artist

Gods and NPCs:

Alerion: little-space-major Cari: cari-morningcrest Casus: casus-luck, siren-of-luck Enderian: enderian-morningstar Epros: the-void-of-the-end Everett: everett-morningstar Fable: fable-creation, king-of-the-overworld Hope: hope-pup Isla: isla-morningstar Jerry: jericho-cree Kinaxus: protectorofenergy Malitae: x-malitae-x, god-of-expression Netherum: nethrum Oscar: oscarlittleguy Perix: perix-illusion Soul: goddess-of-souls Raemond: raemond-morningstar Terry: the-best-cree-brother Vaeh: thebestestnightingstar, loyalty-goddess-pt2 Vikesh: vikesh-moon Vorago: vorago-god-of-depths and also Fable pets cus why not: fable-pet-collective

Fable AUs:

Band AU! Aax: drum-olm ^^^ Arisanna: songs-of-the-allay ^^^ Athena: flame-sings ^^^ Caspian: cas-chord ^^^ Centross: song-reaper, soulstone-rockstar ^^^ Fable: creation-records ^^^ Fenris: singing-wolf ^^^ Icarus: bird-song-shine, songbird-soars ^^^ Isla: orchid-morningstars ^^^ Malitae: artist-on-the-stage ^^^ Rae: void-star-singer ^^^ Ven: wet-fox-artist Corrupt! Centross: the-violet-reaper Corrupt! Fenris: vengful-danger-wolf Corrupt! Icarus: wilted-feathers Corrupt! Momboo: rain-and-rotting-flowers Corrupt! Rae: mind-prince Fable be good dad: guiding-gilded-light Icarus as young Quixis: lost-in-the-bright-lights Icarus raised by Fable: prince-of-the-gilded ^^^ + younger than Rae: im-prince-icarus Icarus raised by moms: icarus-mindstar Icarus raised by Ulysses: bird-underwater Icarus with wither sickness, wack, and decay: protector-of-decay Isla never leaving Fable: the-trapped-princess Rae if he took Enderian’s deal in s1: prince-of-the-court Rae raised by Enderian after Ic’s “death”: son-of-mind Rae raised by Fable after Ic’s “death”: never-his-son Skulked! Aax: decayed-test-tube Skulked! Ocie: polluted-ocean

Mer SMP

Faye: shark-biter Gyn: the-final-leviathan Krithos: kritos-dawn Raylen: raylan-dawn Theodore: theo-sealan, theosealan

SkyBound SMP

Armor: winged-warrior-1 Ashril: pigeon-prince-or-something, run-run-roadrunner Gavrien: fashionable-bird Marcel: cardinal-north Mojave: the-onewinged-artist Rune: engineer-lad Sylph: zip-zap-sylph Vast: ranger-of-the-sky, the-remaining-cadere13

Bound misc:

Jade: littlebirbie Jasper: stringtheif

Bound AUs:

Pokemon AU! Vast: ranger-of-the-sky

ohhkay. this took a lot of brain cells /pos and as stated in the beginning, tell me of other accounts!

I thought I’d add this here too; make sure to use #roleplay on every post/reblog and #sherbverse roleplay and #fable smp roleplay when roleplaying either!

also! I have made a google docs with the same exact list, but with the links of each account intro if you press the username

link!

#sherbverse roleplay #fable smp roleplay #roleplay #account list #hope this helps! :D #also this took me like 1.5 hrs?#worth it tbh #mer smp roleplay #bound smp roleplay #skybound smp roleplay

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semetarycosplay · 8 months

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I always love to take the opportunity to cosplay with my best friend. We are just??? So cute???? I'm glad she decided to do Charlie with me. Photos: Helix Digital Photography Charlie Morningstar: Yuki Cat Cosplay

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel cosplay #christmas cosplay #christmas hazbin hotel #angel dust #angel dust cosplay #vivziepop #charlie morningstar #charlie morningstar cosplay

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scotttrismegistus7 · 2 years

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DIVINE CHRONOS ARC-ANGLE DRAGON MAGNETAR: SPIRITS, THE SPIRIT WORLD, THOHT FORMS AND FORMS OF THOHT: SATURN REIGNITES AND RISES LIKE THE PHOENIX.

THIS IS AN APPROXIMATE ROUGH SKETCH OF THE METAMORPHOSIS OF MY ENERGY FIELD, BEING A COMBINATION OF ME ADDING MY MALE FULL SPECTRUM SUNS ENERGY ACTIVATION TO THE ISIS GREAT MOTHER SERPENT DRAGON WHEN OUR SOULS MERGED TOGETHER IN AFFINITY UNION AND I OFFICIALLY BECAME A HYBRID FLYING AND FIRE BREATHING DRAGON, THE END RESULT BEING WHAT I HAVE BEEN CALLING DIVINE CHRONOS, THE SERPENTINE DEMIURGE WITH MY ADDED DIVINE MASCULINE ENERGIES BY AFFINITY UNION OF MY DIVINE MASCULINE WITH THE FEMININE GREAT MOTHER, AND THEN PROJECTED TO HER CONNECTED SERPENTINE DRAGON CHILDREN.

ARC-ANGLE DRAGON IS THE ACTIVATED POLES THAT LOOK LIKE A PLUS SIGN WITH CURVES, THAT IN AN INFINITE PERPETUAL WAY GENERATE WAVES, AKA VIBRATIONS, WHICH ALSO MAKES THE PATTERN OF THE ABSOLUTE PERFECT DOUBLE HELIX WITH SERPENTINE BAR, DNA. BY ADDING MY MASCULINE DIVINITY TO THE GREAT MOTHER SERPENTINE DRAGON, NOW THE SERPENTINE DRAGON IS THE BAR AROUND WHICH THE DOUBLE HELIX SPINS, ISN'T THAT FANTASTIC!

I RECEIVED THE VAST MAJORITY OF THIS INFORMATION THROUGH VISUALIZATION IN MY MEDITATIONS, CREDIT GOING TO TITANS I CHANNELED AND COMMUNICATED WITH IN TARTARUS, GUIDING ME THROUGH MY ENERGY FIELD METAMORPHOSIS, WHICH THEY SAID AS A MODEL OF PERFECT DNA WOULD ALSO GIVE ME THE MALE DRAGON ACTIVATION OF MY OWN DNA, ALONG WITH A FEW ADDITIONAL THINGS NECESSARY FOR ME TO KNOW AND DO TO BREAK THEM OUT, WHICH I DID AND IS ALREADY DONE!

~I am the Heart of the Hydra, the Heart of Goddess Isis, I am Aeon Horus.

I am Divine Chronos, the Yaldaboath Demiurge Metamorphosed, I am the Singularity of the Master Craft of the Black Sun.

Azazil-Iblis, Abzu-Osiris-Typhon-Kukulkan, Nummo-Naga.

Mégisti-Generator Starphire~

#illuminati #illuminator #illuminated #lightbearer #morningstar #lucifer #Draconian #anunnaki #enki #enlil #anu #inanna #dumuzi #hermes #trismegistus #Azazel #starfamily #horus #Demiurge #Sophia #archon #AI #blacksun #saturn #iblis #ibis #thoth #digitaria #gnosis #gnostic #gnosticism #Anzu #watcher #watchtower #yaldaboath #Sirius #scientology #aleistercrowley #typhon #echidna

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wholesalemagnesiumoxide · 2 years

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triple helix pitching forward | chapter one: solo dive

word count: 3.9k

content warnings: violence & dead bodies

description: selene morningstar, seraph-class investigator, has been sent to a distant planet to terminate an escaped specimen. in the ruined facility she's investigating, she finds one more survivor than expected.

It is quiet aboard the Slumbering Fury. Its captain, Selene Chalcedony Morningstar, sits in front of a window, watching the acidic rain come down in sheets on the mushroom forests below. Behind them, the ship’s ionic exhaust sparkles and winks out in the downpour, brief flashes of light drowned out by the blazing alien sunset. Her AI assistant and companion, Brutus, is guiding the ship to their destination, a research facility high above the treeline. He projects a holographic avatar of sorts standing next to her seat, hands clasped in mute professionalism, sepulchral face turned to gaze out the same window she looks out of. It’s a gesture for his human companion — his holographic eyes do not see. It is unrequested but appreciated.

Brutus’s avatar turns to face her, and a synthetic voice speaks into her ear. “Twenty minutes until expected arrival.” She nods and stands as his avatar dissipates.

“Let’s go over the assignment again,” she says, walking to her equipment locker. They’ve already read and reread the provided dossier multiple times, but it’s good to keep things fresh.

His voice is professional, level — flat but not monotone — as he reads. “Distress signal received on Coalition public channels from the fourth planet in the Elysium system, previously believed uninhabited. Signal details the escape of a specimen from containment. Designated THRONE, specimen is of unknown species and was recovered by planetary surface scout. No requests for status have received replies. Staff presumed deceased.”

Selene’s armor is a set of burnished silver pieces that snap together over her normal attire: loose shirts and pants in plain colors and comfortable fabrics. She prepares herself silently while Brutus continues speaking. “No images have been provided. Following description contains all known information, given in distress signal: THRONE possesses ocher fur, eight limbs, and eight eyes. It presents bipedal locomotion, though it has been observed moving octopedally. Limited studies have shown empathic and shapeshifting abilities. Intelligence believed high. Specimen is to be terminated.”

Her armor resembles its wearer once fully assembled: broad shoulders, strong arms, the sense of professionalism forged from raw metal. Its only adornments are her crest on the back and the tightly coiled ram horns on the helmet. Her metal carapace fits her far better than the suits and ties of her previous life, a layer of protection she finds more than natural. She’s engineered herself to be a sufficient weapon, but as always, she puts on her holster and places her handgun in it.

“They really didn’t give us much to work with, huh,” she sighs.

“Yes, a map of the facility would have been appreciated,” Brutus replies. “It is to be expected, I suppose.” They both know they’re lucky to get this much. The Coalition is so broad, containing so many disparate branches and organizations, that three entities nominally under the same banner can have no idea what the others are doing.

The final piece of her equipment slithers out of the locker and onto her arm, wreathing it in slime. It gives the impression that she had just been elbow-deep in something with black, oil-slick blood. It is a swarm of colloidal nanomachines — a recent acquisition Selene never could have afforded, an experiment of some rogue laboratory she had been hired to contain. Formerly autonomous, it is now an extension of Brutus, something between a limb and a well-trained dog. Its inventors called it Principality. He calls it Legion.

There was a time when the Fury’s deceleration would have jostled its interior. With Brutus at the controls, however, Selene does not even notice they’ve stopped. “Ready to disembark, captain,” he says. A brief exhale to center herself and she heads out.

From the outside, the facility is a standard Coalition outpost. Treated carbon fiber stilts support a landing platform. Above there’s a sloped roof to protect personnel from the caustic rain. Even from the ship, it’s impossible to see how far below the landing platform the facility extends.

The Coalition must have believed the harsh environs to be security enough. Legion disables the facility’s keycard lock with ease, and Selene steps into the sterile foyer. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, unnecessarily nourishing synthetic greenery. It is, like the outside, the sort of cookie-cutter design a network of construction drones could assemble in a handful of minutes: chairs, table, staircase access, elevator. Even the fake plants come standard; they are merely a part of the tables they sit on.

The elevator doesn’t come when called, so she pries apart the doors, cheap aluminum construction bending like plastic, and looks inside. The cable is missing; looking down, she sees it bunched up uselessly on top of the crumpled elevator at the bottom of the shaft.

“What do you suppose happened here?” Brutus asks.

Selene steps back from the elevator doors, and they slide closed, oblivious to how they’ve been mangled. She heads for the stairs and says, “Someone got desperate.”

Below the foyer is what Selene assumes to be the office floor, a small room filled with the chemically sweet smell of carpet cleaner. She brushes past an obsolete security drone as she enters. Off-the-shelf workstations sit in neat rows, inactive computer screens embedded into desks, blinking red lights accompanying each of them. She steps over a toppled chair and taps on the nearest screen, which lights up with DATASERVER LINK SEVERED. She presses her left hand against the screen. Legion briefly extends itself, slithering into the crack between it and the desk, before retracting as the display goes dark.

“The error is real,” Brutus says. “This is merely a screen connected to a centralized server. Without access to said server it is useless.”

Selene sighs and turns away from the workstation, looking at the rest of the room. There’s no smell of blood in the air, the carpet is clean, and no bodies lie splayed out on the floor. Whatever happened here didn’t happen in this room.

Selene heads to the stairwell down. It’s bare concrete with no handrail, clearly something built out of obligation, a construction just barely human-usable. She’s almost to the next floor when she notices something out of the corner of her eye and turns around.

There’s somebody lying prone on the stairs, a trail of bloodied handprints on the wall behind them. She crouches down next to the body, turns them over, and puts a hand against their neck, checking for a pulse. Her eyes wander to the name tag pinned neatly to their lab coat. Doctor Halifax Stephenson, Head Researcher. There’s no pulse. Selene stands, letting him fall limp. “Must’ve bled out trying to get up here.”

The emblem next to his name at least give her an idea of who runs this facility. The fractal pattern of multiple eyes indicates that he’s Coalition. The single-strand RNA helix indicates he’s with the Biological Research Bureau. The magnifying glass and grasping hand are new, though she has guesses.

The next floor down turns out to be the kitchen, a small linoleum-floored room filled with the smell of yeast, cooking oil, rendered soy and bean proteins. A couple of grimy domestic food-printers — the sort of appliance you’d expect in a student’s apartment — sit on a counter in the center of the room. There’s a chest freezer against the wall. Selene opens it up, solidified condensation cracking as she does, and looks inside, Legion slithering in to investigate. To her eyes it’s all frozen-over mush, crystallized past the point of being recognizable. Legion chews through layers of ice like a worm, insinuates some feelers into the substances, pulling back once sated.

“These seem to be samples of the local flora,” Brutus says. “It has all been frozen too long to discern fully, but chemical analysis shows similarities to various native fungi.”

“Maybe it’s what they were feeding THRONE,” Selene says, closing the freezer.

“Unlikely, unless THRONE eats very rarely. The ice suggests it was left frozen for at least ten days, possibly more.”

She nods, mulling it over as she heads out of the kitchen. No bodies here either, save for the late Dr. Stephenson in the staircase leading back up. Onward.

Next is a small room Selene can immediately tell is some kind of dormitory. Cots against the wall, a sleeping bag in the corner, a few hammocks. The sort of accommodations found on a long haul freight journey. Perhaps that’s precisely what they were. Imagining the scientists working here lugging their beds off the transport that brought them here brings her some joy, but she shakes her head. Can’t waste too much time on frivolous matters. The room could house six people, assuming nobody shared beds. Good to know.

Down to the floor below. She doesn’t initially notice the walls lined with screens, each labeled with a different floor of the facility — Kitchen, Enclosure, etc. The first thing she notices is the smell of blood in the air and the body slumped over a desk, a shotgun loosely supported by limp, lifeless arms. She pulls the corpse up by their hair. The gaping hole in their trachea seeps yet more blood onto their uniform shirt. The name on their badge is still plainly visible. Eugene Newman, Security & Specimen Compliance. She lets go and the body falls backward, shotgun clattering to the floor. The door to the stairs leading down is pockmarked with scattershot bullet holes. There are claw marks on the elevator door. The screens all show static.

Legion slithers off her arm, dripping onto the floor and crawling toward the monitors, infiltrating then exfiltrating their circuitry.

“It appears camera feeds are routed through the central data server,” Brutus says. “The monitors here cannot establish a connection either.”

Next floor down is data storage, where the air once again reeks of blood. A small rack of servers sits near the middle of the room, humming quietly. A guard, stomach split open, leans slumped against the wall, leaking bile and blood. Selene, more for formality than anything else, stoops down to check their name tag. Daniel Young, Security & Specimen Monitoring. She stands and places her hand against the server tower.

“Mind imaging this, Brutus?” she asks. Legion slithers off of her hand in mute acknowledgment, insinuating itself into the server.

After a moment, he speaks up. “Server encryption is non-trivial. It will take several hours to copy over, and several days to decrypt piecemeal. I would prefer we wait until you return to the ship.”

“No, this is important,” she says, lifting her hand back up. “I don’t think I’ll need Legion. Just keep it here copying over the server, I’ll come back for it later.”

“If you insist,” Brutus says. Legion remains in the server, whisper-quiet as it works.

She heads deeper, going down the stairs and opening the door to the sharp smell of ozone. A dozen security drone charging stations line the walls. The ruined bodies of several of said drones lie on the floor, occasionally twitching and sparking. They’re sufficiently mangled that a precise count is difficult; Selene estimates there are three to six of them. She stoops down to pick up a severed mechanical arm that ends in a blade. Its matte gray surface is stained red, slick with blood. She drops it; it lands elbow-first on a bipedal security drone’s torso, causing it to jerk spasmodically, speaker-grille mouth coughing up sparks.

The next floor’s antiseptic reek hits her before she enters the room, a reminder of a dozen surgeries in a dozen circumstances. A pair of lab coats hang from hooks on the wall. Dented lockers, rusted and painted over, sit on the floor by the wall, hand-me-downs from some other department. Plastic curtains cut the room in half. Someone has written “DECON” on them in messy handwriting. There’s a small gap between the curtains where a small chemical shower sits. Selene pushes past it, ignoring a lone protective suit hanging on the wall. Whatever biological agent the scientists here were worried about, she’s rebuilt herself to be immune. She’s not sure a poison exists that could kill her.

She expects a large, security-locked door to be blocking the entrance to THRONE’s enclosure. There is such a door. It’s been blown off its hinges. Plasma-tempered glass shattered outward from the viewing chamber, shards of it crunching underfoot. A messily bisected security drone sparking quietly in the corner. Ozone and iron hang in the air. Right under the observation window, a gas-masked face stares up, terror evident in dead, blank eyes. It’s a body wearing a sterile green-blue protective suit, stained red with blood. The suit’s scratched away near their hands. Their abdomen’s been sliced opened, like something out of an abattoir. Selene probes the wound with a gloved hand. It’s unmistakable. Bite marks, viscera torn to shreds, flesh pulled and torn out. Marrow sucked out of rib bones.

“A creature that’d leave bite marks this size...” Selene pulls back her hand.

“If THRONE left these impressions, it would have to be roughly three meters tall,” Brutus says.

Selene steps over the dividing wall, through the now-shattered observation window, moving from glass-covered concrete to straw-covered dirt. There’s a large metal pan on the floor, caked with layers of myoglobin. She stoops down to look at it, then up at the ceiling. A chute empties out right above the pan; she guesses it’s THRONE’s food dish. A rusted cage in the corner, sized perhaps for a large dog, not for anything three meters tall. A slot in the wall to allow objects to be passed back and forth.

Selene turns back toward the door and notices blood splattering the walls. She steps back into the observation chamber, crushing a stray syringe underfoot. Someone’s had their head slammed into the back wall; blood and brain matter radiate out from the central point of impact. She nudges the body onto its back with her foot. Facial reconstruction algorithms activate, lines flickering over the body’s face for a few moments before fizzling out.

“Reconstruction is impossible, given the amount of damage,” Brutus says. “We would need to find another method to identify them.”

“It’s not my first priority,” Selene says, turning to leave. Cleanup isn’t her department; in this case, she doubts anyone will come back to bury the bodies and bleach the carpets. “But if we know what happened here, we can probably find THRONE.”

She’s nearly out of the door when Brutus says, “It appears as though the enclosure is the lowest floor. We would have the best access to the elevator from here.”

She turns on her heel, faster than her armor should allow. “Good catch. Thanks.”

The elevator doors in the observation room yield quickly. Selene’s hands find easy purchase in extant gouges, and she pulls it apart effortlessly. She’s face to face with the elevator, crumpled inward. Blood is the only sign there was someone inside.

“Whoever’s in here, we can’t identify them,” Selene sighs. “Even if we pry this apart, the person inside will be mangled.”

“It is curious,” Brutus says as Selene exits. “In so many aspects, this is standard Mutichiral Coalition construction.”

“Go on.” She enters the locker room, gives her armor a wash in the chemical shower. Even if it’s security theater, she doesn’t want to track anything into the Slumbering Fury.

“It would be suitable for a research outpost,” he continues, Selene listening intently as she steps over a decapitated drone. “If this were an outpost for chemists, mathematicians, field biologists, or simulation engineers, it would be suitable.”

“What are you getting at?” she asks, glancing over at the server tower as she walks. It’s still humming away, and Legion is still working inside it.

“This is a facility intended to contain a dangerous animal. The dossier said it is intelligent and capable of changing form.” The screens are still filled with static, the body is still slumped over the console. “We can assume it is roughly three meters tall, and that it is responsible for all the dead bodies we have encountered thus far.”

Selene doesn’t respond. She can tell from his cadence — the slight modulations calculated for effect, because everything an artificial intelligence does is calculated for effect and nothing is ever involuntary — that he’s building up to something. She almost wants to sit on one of the beds and listen fully, but she needs to get back to the ship. Onward.

“Everything we have seen so far is woefully inadequate for this purpose. It should not have been able to break the viewing glass; even if it had been able to, it should not have been able to breach the security door.” As Brutus speaks, Selene imagines some large explanatory feline, stalking its point through the underbrush before pouncing, sealing the argument with a bloody QED.

She’s entering the office workspace floor when he says, “This facility was under-engineered for the task at hand to an extent I cannot explain. It strikes me as—” He interrupts himself, a clicking sound as his audio levels briefly jump to zero. “There is someone else here.” His synthetic voice is lowered, as if the stranger could overhear him when he’s speaking directly into Selene’s cochlear nerve.

Selene had noticed before he said it. It’s a stranger with long auburn hair and thick, square-rimmed glasses — so cracked it’s hard to tell how she could ever see through them. Her sweater’s bloodied. She’s leaning in front of a terminal, eyebrows knitted together. Selene can just barely make out the words DATASERVER LINK SEVERED in her glasses, the red of the error screen reflected in her sweat and grime. The stranger’s tapping at the screen with increasing frequency and force. She glances up, then back down at the screen.

The stranger looks back up with a jolt, falling backward against the workstation behind her. “Who—” she begins, before Selene cuts her off, approaching with a hand outstretched.

“Captain Selene Morningstar, Seraph-class investigator with the MCC Nightfall Blades branch,” she says, titles and organizations coming out of her mouth as if they don’t taste acrid. “I’ve been sent here to see what happened with a specimen that escaped.” She pauses. “Are you hurt?”

“Asphodel Verrine,” the stranger says, taking Selene’s hand and pulling herself up.”And, ah, no, I’m fine. Please don’t trouble yourself.” She glances away sheepishly, looking down at her sweater. Selene notices how poorly it fits, too large for someone so gaunt. “It bled worse than it hurt.”

“Still, I have bandages on my ship, if you need them,” Selene says. “I doubt it’s safe to stay here, anyway. For all we know the specimen’s still here.”

Asphodel nods. “Lead the way, Captain.”

Selene turns toward the door, waving her hand. “Just Selene is fine.” Asphodel follows her out.

They’re halfway up the staircase when Selene hears something behind them. Whipping around, she sees it — the obsolete security drone getting to its feet, unlubricated joints creaking with the whine of metal on metal. Brutus says something she doesn’t hear as she rushes toward it, moving past Asphodel so quickly she almost shoves her into the wall. Asphodel looks back, affronted, when she sees the bipedal figure leveling a gun-hand at her. She takes off running up the stairs as Selene grabs the drone’s wrist. Servos whine under the stress, and —

It fires. The first bullet hits concrete. It doesn’t get a second. Selene wrenches the hand off the arm in a shower of sparks and kicks hard at a metal torso, which crunches against the wall. A knee to a head and the drone’s incapacitated, its aluminum skull crumpled inward. She tosses the hand to the side like trash.

When she gets to the top of the stairs, Asphodel’s looking through the tiny window in the door at her. She opens the door and Asphodel says, “I’m glad you weren’t hurt, I’m sorry I ran, I—”

Selene cuts her off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got armor, you don’t. It was the right move.”

Asphodel doesn’t protest further. They board the ship without further incident.

“Selene, we must discuss—” Brutus begins to say into Selene’s ear as she’s removing her armor and putting it away, but Selene cuts him off with a whispered, “Later.” She glances over at Asphodel, who’s looking at the various fixtures of the ship with interest.

“How do these lights work?” she asks, staring with a hand on her chin at one of the ship’s wall-mounted lights, a cloudy, slowly-shifting turquoise Selene doesn’t pay much attention to anymore. “They don’t seem like they’re LED or fluorescent...”

Selene opens her mouth to respond, but Brutus is faster. His holographic avatar appears behind Asphodel, and his voice comes out over the ship’s speakers when he says, “Engineered bioluminescent algae. They provide both illumination and oxygen production.” Asphodel turns, looking for the source of the voice until she sees him. He tilts his head and gives what might be a smile, if his scarf didn’t cover his mouth. He bows, intangibly projected forehead a couple centimeters from clipping into her torso. “Brutus-Athena. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

She glances between Brutus and Selene before saying, “It’s nice to meet you too.” Selene thinks she sees a hint of some instinctive fight-or-flight response in Asphodel’s eyes, but it’s quickly gone, and she can’t tell if it was a trick of the light or really there.

Or simple projection. Asphodel turns to her. “May I use your shower? I don’t want to intrude, but—”

Selene interrupts. “Of course. It’s right over there. I’ll grab you some spare clothes.” She pauses before getting them out of the wardrobe, turning back to look at Asphodel. “You sure you don’t need to be bandaged up before then?”

“Oh, no, really, it’s fine. See?” Asphodel pulls down the collar of her sweater revealing a recent wound, a slash right under a bony shoulder. It isn’t healed over yet, but it’s not bleeding. Judging by how Asphodel carries her arm Selene figures there’s no nerve damage. It’s a shallow wound; it might leave a scar but that’s the worst she’d expect.

Selene looks away, turning back to the wardrobe. “Just make sure you wash it out.” She hands Asphodel a set of her extra pajamas.

Once she can hear the shower head’s hiss through the walls, Selene leans against the wall and says, “What’s on your mind, Brutus?”

“When you returned to the kitchen after examining the enclosure, Doctor Stephenson’s body had been moved from the stairwell outside. You noticed it as well, correct?”

Selene nods. “Yeah, I did.”

“This implies that either THRONE was in hiding and came out to move the body, or—”

“—THRONE disguised itself as the body, and moved to the office once I passed.” Selene finishes Brutus’s theory for him, kicking her foot against the wall.

“It is the most plausible explanation.”

She sighs, closes her eyes, and rests her head against the wall. “I had considered it as soon as I saw her, but... It’s not airtight.”

“Am I correct in assuming you are aware of the risks in allowing her to stay here?”

“Of course. If there’s a chance she’s not THRONE, though, I don’t want to leave her out there.”

“And if she is?”

Selene crosses her arms. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I’m not making any moves until we know for sure.”

“I respect that and will not act preemptively. Please be careful, Selene.”

“I will, love.”

#triple helix pitching forward

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missingjackklinehours · 3 years

Text

Michael & the "Eye of God"

the Helix Nebula, known as the "Eye of God" for its striking resemblance to a massive eye through telescopes. It's the closest known nebula to Earth.

The Helix Nebula is also said to be a remnant from a dying star.

Now, not only have I talked about Michael quite literally being a nebula, but if you've stuck around for a while, you'll know I've also talked about Lucifer being a dying star; A harsh transition from a brightly burning blue star to a fading, fallen red giant.

Michael holds onto a piece of his fallen little brother within his core. It's all he has of Lucifer---He's only left to grow from the trauma, albeit without the Morningstar by his side.

#michael the nebula my beloved #archangels & astronomy #michael spn #archangels spn #lucifer's fall #spn archangels

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luna-the-moth · 3 years

Note

Heya

For the questions, could you do 20, 37, 76 et 152?

🖤

@toomanyhusbandosandwaifus

Aw, hey love! Thanks for dropping in!

20: First thing I notice in new person

Ooh, probably their hair/accessories! (Yes I’m obsessed with hair/jewelry/skincare ok-)

37: Tattoos and piercing i want

Helix piercings, and possibly a small tattoo inside my wrist? I’ve heard a lot of horror stories on helix piercings though, and my pain tolerance isn’t great.

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is?

I’m fucking cackling, knowing that I’m in the Obey Me! SWD fandom. His last name is Morningstar, ofc!

152: What do I like about myself

Oh no, my self deprecation streak is gone now- I’d say my lashes, since they’re nice, long, and thick. Probably my skin as well, I invest a crap ton of time/effort researching and picking out products for myself. My hands? I’ve had people tell me they’re nice, so I suppose so?

#luna answers #asks

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hidden-amongst-the-dark · 2 months

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I couldn’t help myself. My icon is amazing, they’re just a little guy

#out-of-character #<-#Helix morningstar #we love you #just a little guy #roleplay

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thewollfgang · 6 years

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If you're still doing the ask game... deckerstar Jurassic park AU.

Yep! I'm still doing it, today was my only say to sleep in this week so I didn't get up until nearly noon. Plus! It's snowed! So there's no reason to get out of bed anyway!

(let's try this again)

Chloe thinks Lucifer Morningstar is a fancy dressed corporate prat who has little to no understanding of the animals they work with and would get himself killed in a heartbeat if he ever stepped foot in an enclosure but she's nice enough not to say it, though the other dinosaur handlers have no such compunction, talking about him in disparaging terms, about how he has the same cold, calculating eye as a velociraptor.

She finds him, illegally smoking a cigarette, on her walkway, watching the raptors below and she thinks there might actually be something to the rumors, the light reflecting in Lucifer's eyes oddly, the slight tilt of his head a familiar mimicry of when Fargo studies her through the bars, and the sinister glint of teeth when Lucifer smiles.

She wants to know why he was there that night watching her animals and does some digging, and that's how she comes to find out that everything she knows about Mr. Morningstar is wrong - he's their biggest champion against military involvement, his team of lawyers, headed by Charlotte Richards herself, has kept the military's grubby little hands from seizing their dinos for the better half of a decade and he's a leader in the care and protection of dinosaur species.

(bonus sentence)

Chloe doesn't know what to make of it all but the next time she spots him lingering outside her enclosures, she asks if he'd like to come and meet the raptors, considering how intelligent and protective Fargo, Georgie, Iris and Helix are, Lucifer might have more in common with them after all.

#lucifer fanfiction #ask game #3 sentence fic #my fic #Chloe is a raptor handler #This would be a fun fic too

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damn-anotherangel · 3 years

Text

Remember Your Wings

I do not know what I expected the first time I heard the Lord my Creator speak. I do not know why I had been called in the first place. In my secret heart, I yearned for it. To hear His Voice, feel His Love and attention focused on me for even a moment, I've lived for it ever since my creation, even in that brief moment of fear for my existence... but I know I did not expect any of this.

A faceless angel hovers outside the window of my room, high in one of the Spires of the Dominion. They shine so brightly, and I wonder, for only a moment, if that is how I look; no eyes, no mouth, no defining features at all.

169-Ω. Gather the Phosphor and report to the Seat of Keter immediately. All will be revealed in due course.

There was the reason for the lack of mouth. This angel had no need to physically speak, for I heard the words as if they were spoken into my conscious mind. I stand, and a stray ringlet of hair falls in front of my vision. I think for a moment, as I tuck it behind my ear, that I must look different. The Messenger was bald as well as featureless.

I wonder what I look like... I think idly as I lean out from the window, and let the sky take me, natural as taking a breath.

I feel a rush, a thrill, as I plummet down through the skies of the dominion, mere inches from the spire in which I reside. A tear flies from my eye, and I shout an exaltation to the Dominion for the possibility of such an experience. I spread my wings, each feather as clear as a piece of the sky at sunset, pull myself out of the dive and power myself towards the Seat of Netzach where the powers reside.

The Warriors are training, as ever they do, in the sky above their spire. They fly about with such a perfect synchronization, not one feather out of place in the entire fleet of millions of angels swooping and gliding and arching, masses splitting off and coming together in new and beautiful ways that I could watch and probably had watched forever.

Standing at the top of the spire, watching the Host, was Lucifer. So beautiful, he was called Phosphoros, or the Morning Star, and was known to be especially loved by the Lord.

I whispered his Identification to myself once I landed. "Pw'AR-Phosphoros-1.36A" He noticed me, and turned gracefully, effortlessly from his crystalline host to greet me. We make eye contact, and I suddenly feel very plain by comparison. I avert my gaze downward, gathering my confidence. The ringlet of hair falls into my vision again. I glance up for a moment to see that he is smiling at me. "Your name is Aeonai. You are called the Everspark, are you not?" I nod shyly, heat brushing my face. He knows the name of an unimportant angel such as me. "Is there something I can do for you?" he asks, his voice washing over me like clear waters. "I have been asked to escort you to the Seat of Keter. The messenger did not tell me what the escort was to entail. It only said ‘All will be revealed in due course.' " My voice takes on the tone of what was told to me, and I know from his expression, it touched his mind in the same way it had touched mine. "Where you lead, I shall follow." He turns a half-step and beckons to his second-in-command, Azazel to keep charge while he is away. I smile and turn with a flourish, and fall backward off of the spire, laughing as the rush grabs hold of me once more, and I spread my wings and circle the tower, memorizing the details of this Warrior's home. The Morning Star is not far behind me, his powerful wings speeding him across the Dominion.

I slow a little as we approach the spires of Hesed, and he flies alongside me. I feel like he's watching me, studying me. I catch myself in wondering, once again, in that secret heart if I am pleasing to behold... "Your manner fascinates me." he muses and I steal a glance at him, feeling plain once more. "How do you mean, Morningstar?" "Lucifer, please. I prefer familiarity." he insists. "It is the way you fly. Your Passion shows when you fly." "Thank you. The compliment means so much, coming from one so Favored as you." My heart is light, and I feel as if I could fly forever. "You should show me how you do it some time. I would enjoy learning from you very much." he mused.

A small thrill washes over me, and I pull my wings in tight to my body. "LIKE THIS!" I shout, "Follow me!" I drop like a stone, and I feel like I left my breath behind in Hesed's central spire.I glance back and see he's copied me, wings tight, shining like the comets the Universe will have, a look of fierce determination on his face. I open my wings and pull into a corkscrew he catches up and mirrors me, and the world is spinning, except for his face, his hair beating around it like a wild fire. "Relax." I tell him, as if telling him a secret, "Do not think about the doing, just do it." He looks at me, the closest to confused I'd ever seen him as we ascended past the spires. "What do you mean, I need to relax?" "You look so determined. Determination communicates strength, but also stress. Do not try and catch up or pass me. Once you feel that fierceness, aim yourself higher, and let yourself fall." I breathe as we reach our zenith, our peak, that point where we're suspended... "If you are afraid, I am here to hold on to." I reassure him, teasing a little, as our hair rises past our faces. "I am not afraid." he denies, but he takes my arm as the wind starts to whip past us again, and we accelerate downwards through the sky. Muscle by muscle, I feel his tension unwind and he relaxes entirely. "Fall until you are afraid, then remember that you are blessed with wings to fly."" Fall until I am afraid..." he looks at me, and then ahead of us, as the glass and silver of the Dominion rise to meet us. . . The wind is screaming, the world is spinning, I see a tear on his face as his eyes widen and I smile."Now, spread your wings, Lucifer." He breathes, and for a moment, his grip tightens, then he releases me, and we spread our wings, and we fly. Lucifer, the bright Morning Star laughing in exaltation, lets the momentum of the fall speed him forward, moving his wings only to bank and turn, and I follow him, mirroring his every movement. We split apart, and spiral around the path between the Sephirot of Wisdom and Mercy along the mighty Road between them. We spin and spiral faster and faster, the paths of our bodies wreathed in the light of an eternal morning; a beautiful shining double helix. angels on the Road could see the display and hear our laughter... He catches up with me, and grasps my forearm with his hand. I return the gesture. "I feel I cannot be afraid with you near me." he whispers as we approach the tallest spire in the Sephirah of Keter, known as the Seat.

We pass through the circular window of the spire, and enter a bare room with walls that reflect everything perfectly. There in the wall stands a reflection of Lucifer, outlined by the sky. And there, just next to him, stands... I suppose that figure, standing only to Lucifer's chest, dark ringlets draping past his face, and wings reflecting a sunset under a noonday sky, is... "Is that me?" I turn to the Lucifer standing next to me, and he glances over, a question in his eyes. "What I look like, I mean." "Beautiful, aren't you?" A voice intones from a corner of the room. I shift my gaze to the corner of the room and behold. . . nothing.

In the reflection, though, facing one pair of our own reflections, is a young and wingless angel with hair about His face as well as on His head. As He walks away from the corner, the reflection in the other wall shows a taller, older angel also without wings walking toward another pair of our reflections. In a rush of movement, all grace even in a rush, all reflections of Lucifer have taken to their knees in proper Supplication, and I realize with a start that I am in the presence of my Lord and Creator, though my mind breathes the word ‘Father’ "Forgive me, Fa- My Lord, for delaying in my Supplication-" I say in a rush, dropping to my knees so quickly I hear a thump. "Shh, shh. You may be calm. You are forgiven." the Presence before us murmurs, as both the young and older angel hold out a hand for silence. "I would like for you both to stand so I may look upon you." We and our very army of reflections do so, and the angels in the mirror circle us, studying us. "You are everything I expected and more. I am so proud of both of you." the Reflection of the Son turns to the copy of me in his mirror, appears to smile, and puts His hand on my shoulder, and I feel its weight."Aeonai your job is complete. You may leave us now." I glance at Lucifer standing next to me as he stiffens up, the light in his eyes waning, and I go to embrace him once more. I feel his tension ease again, and he returns the embrace. Satisfied that I had presently completed my tasks, both commanded and unsaid I step towards the balcony, but Lucifer holds my wrist. Lucifer's reflection looks at the Image of the Father. "If it is no trouble to you, may Aeonai stay, Lord?" I freeze, my weight shifting toward the balcony anyway, to keep from causing problems, but the angel's request surprises me. Not to mention the Creator's response. "I certainly don't mind," our Creator replies, "as long as you are sure. This will be a matter that is yours alone, so if you trust him with it, he may stay."Lucifer looks at me, no trace of fear in his gaze, "I trust him. I would like to have him here." "Then I will stay, and thank you, Father" I get to my knees and bow my head momentarily, before repositioning myself. I sit on the balcony, legs hanging over the edge, as questions are asked about the Host. Lucifer says the Fleet is admirable, and he hopes it embodies the perfection Our Father had in mind for the angels. "Indeed, it does." He responds. "Now, for the reason I have sent for you." Both the younger and older Reflection of the Lord takes a knee before Lucifer, looking his reflections in the eye. "I have a Task for you, my Morning Star. It will be difficult, and will require more than anyone should ask of you." I lean forward as Lucifer replies "I would do anything for You, Father."

"The Universe is nearing completion. Soon, the World will be populated by many kinds of Life, great and small. One of these creations will rise to shape the world themselves. To watch over it as I watch over My Dominion, but much closer in body and mind. They will be a part of the world. My Children, and they shall live in peace and be prosperous." I think, personally, that this plan sounds wonderful. To have a life of happiness forever, like us... it is so good of our Father to have such an idea..."Thank you Aeonai, I am glad My perspective is shared, but I am not quite finished." He continues, "I want that happiness to MEAN something. I want it to be effortless to laugh, but to know what the laughter is for. I need some difficulty, but I find it hard to play both angles of this cosmic argument at the same time." "What I need from you, is to be 'Temptation.' " " 'Temptation,' Father? What do you mean?" "You need to be the Villain." The Creator said simply, "The ultimate evil, to the Dominion's ultimate good. Everything you see in the dominion, you must taint it." and the Son gestures toward the Father's mirror, and the Father raises his hand... With a flash, that mirror shows us pure terror. The reflection looks like Our Father, but it has drastically changed. No detail has been altered, but the Reflection of the Father looks much darker. He looks wreathed in Malice. There is no caring in his eyes. There is spite, and hatred, and deception. There is betrayal. I did not even know there were words for such things, but I found I knew them. The Elder makes a gesture with his hands like an awful warped Supplication, and frost spreads and burns from him. Spires of glass and metal buckle under the weight of crystalline destruction. They twist, rust, and shatter in the reflection, and all is a ruinous wasteland under the unforgiving sky. It is only a reflection, but by the Dominion, I can almost smell the rot, and feel the frozen creaking, like ice crushed between my teeth, but between every fiber of my being. . . I close my eyes, and a tear runs down my face at the thought what might become of the Morning Star, the most beloved among us... My heart drops, and I feel a pang even deeper within. "Must he become such as this?" I ask the unchanged Reflection of the Son. "Why him?" The younger Reflection sits next to his copy of me, and again touches my shoulder. "Because, he can survive what will happen. My love for him has given him the strength he needs to do this, and still be my Morning Star when it is all over. I chose him because he may not lose himself in this task." Lucifer steps slowly towards the mirror of Ice, rust, and ruin; his wings dragging on the floor. A trail of tears follows him like a trail of blood after a murder, and the analogy is so foreign and yet terrifying to me in its familiarity that I want to comfort him, but the Lord holds me back. "No, you mustn't. He needs to understand what he will go through. He will be scorned. He will be hated. Stories will be told of his betrayal, and of his exile from the Dominion. They will say there was a War, and that he and his followers were cast down violently, wingless abominations, the rulers of..." and here, the true scope of what is unfolding dawns on me as the unthinkable happens: The Lord cannot speak the words... "The rulers of our own nightmares" Lucifer says, as his copy's wings seem to shrivel and rot, until they are leathery and emaciated hands, webbed, and massive. His hair turns dark and hangs loosely about his face. his skin burns and bleeds, until he is covered red. Spiralled horns grow from his temples, and frame his face, his mouth a flash of fangs. His eyes drown in blackness, but burn white-hot, and their gaze is hard to meet. Strangely, he still looks beautiful. It is still Lucifer, so of course he is beautiful. A tear traces a line of fire down his cheek as he looks at me. "Though the only nightmare to me now is the expression on your face as you look at me, Aeonai." and the reflection’s frost gives way to a burning fire... I look away, out across the balcony, and I look to the unedited beauty of the Dominion, and for a flash, I see it all shatter, burst into flames and die. "It just means you can play this part the best, Lucifer." I say. I turn, and hesitate for a moment, but the real Lucifer is looking at me, and I don't care this time if I feel plain. At least I see the reality of him.

"Will you do this for Me?" Our Creator asks, a hint of apprehension tinting his voice. "I don’t understand. Your tone implies he has a choice." I voice to the empty space that I feel next to me, somehow knowing this observation is forbidden in some way, questioning at all some kind of taboo, and worse, for this sounds almost like an accusation. But our Father answers me anyway, with no hint of chagrin. "Of course he has a choice, my Artemis. The universe will not exist without its main antagonist of course, but he can certainly say no if he wishes. The Universe will only remain unfinished if he refuses." I close my eyes, and see the truth, that Lucifer would never wish to say no to our Father, even as he speaks the words: "Of course I would do this. I would want nothing more than to do my very best for you, Lord Creator." "And you will make me so proud." I realize the ruined reflection is gone. the warped and perverted images of both our Father and Lucifer replaced with the reflections of their proper selves."Now go, Lucifer, and contemplate what I ask of you. You will only hear me say this once, and I would only ask this of you. I want you to break my Heart, my Morning Star." The elder Reflection of the Lord kisses Lucifer on the forehead, and the younger Reflection hugs him fiercely. Lucifer strides stiffly to the balcony, his feathers brush my face and they are so soft... he turns to me and mouths 'find me' and he lets the sky take him. I see a tear fall, but I know not if it is one of sadness or exaltation. All I am sure of is that I saw a flash of fire within the tear.

+++

"You are different from the other angels, Aeonai." I hear the Voice behind me say. "I think I understand that, but please, elucidate for me, Your Eminence?" ”For one, you say ‘My Lord, Your Eminence,’ but your heart breathes ‘Father’.” I look down, guilty. but the presence lifts my chin. and the Elder Reflection kneels beside me “For another, it is the way you fly. Both of these details I love about you and made the potential for in you. Would you like to know a secret?" I nod, shy in the realization that my differences were not to doom me. ”Of all the titles I have been given by my Host, I think ‘Father’ is my favorite.” I please you, I am not an abomin- "Please work to cast that fear from your heart. In fact, that you are here means you have a job to do as well. A daunting task, especially for one who sees existence as you do. I made you this way for that reason." "But I was almost destroyed..." I whisper. There is a catch in my voice that I hate. There is bitterness in my voice when I speak to my Fa— our Lo- our Father.

"But you were not. The angel that assessed you I created to have a touch more compassion than the others, for the express reason to save you that fate. I have no name for what exactly sets you apart, but you are unique in a way I want each of My Children to be unique. You are curious, compassionate, and you trust not because something is inherently good, but because, despite what you see, you can. You ask of choice. You question. You test yourself. In a way, that makes your exaltations to Me much stronger." "I thought it was taboo to question Your Word." "For almost anyone else, it would just not happen. The thought would never enter their head. to use a phrase that may one day be used 'It's simply not a part of their programming.' They would only say yes, and do." "And Lucifer?" "He is special also, in his own different ways, and he needs to be. For this task will wear away almost all that he is." At this, my heart sings a note of a lament, but I breathe deep, and steel myself. "What is the Task you have for me, Father? What am I to do?"

"Make sure he does not lose sight of the beauty he sees in the Dominion, in Me, and in those he tries to tempt. In everything he warps, show him the Truth, when the time comes." ”What does that mean, ‘When the Time Comes’?” “I believe you’ll know when that time is right.” "Will I see him again, before that time comes?" "Once. You will see him once before the Universe is set in motion, and that will last until his Task begins." "What will I do after?" "You will wait. Wait until the That Time." "I may do more than that." I say, More than simply a statement, but toeing the line at warning.

"You may. Or you may not. That is the beauty of it though," and the younger Reflection is laughing, and the elder Reflection is smiling ruefully. "I feel that I will take much from how you are in the making of My Children. But I am curious. What face would you show them in his stead? If I asked you to, what would be YOUR ultimate Nightmare? Look into the mirror and show Me, Aeonai."

I get up, and I walk toward the mirror reflecting the Son. The floor around my reflection in the Son's mirror becomes pebbles and colorless ash. The sky darkens, and in a flash of lightning the Spires of the Dominion become wicked mountain crags. The feathers of my wings stain dark, my hair burns short and around it a wicked spiked halo floats, more oily feathers sprout around my waist, shoulders and waist, which changes to a much more avian form, complete with two pairs of wings and an imposing tail. My feet become spindly talons, and my hands grow claws and darken to a charred black. My eyes fill with tar but for their centers, which fade to a milky white. The wings on my shoulders simply fall away, shattering on the sand.

"Lucifer's nightmare was from Hatred, a burning destructive wrath. your nightmare is a much quieter Ruin, is that right?" said the Reflection of the Son, now hairless, a model made of cracked stone, and eyes of deepest black, reflecting nothing but a fell beauty. "Yes Father. My Nightmare is much quieter than his. In fact it is silence. A lack of life, love, or exaltation in any form. Total loss." "Then, in a sense, your future in this Task holds this as much as his future holds that burning hatred he saw." I gasp and tears spring to my eyes once again. I feel guilty for how often that seemed to be happening as of late. As they fall, the tears trace lines of tar down my reflection's cheek. "I need to find him."

I turn and run from the room as the reflection breaks and returns to the brightness of the True Dominion. I do not want my—OUR Lord Father to see me cry, and cry bitterly I do as I plummet from the balcony of the Seat of Keter. For a moment I contemplate not opening my wings, if only to avoid the pain of such loss... But what of your Father, and Lucifer, both who seem to care for you? My mind whispers, and My wings open with a snap, almost too late to save me from a violent ending. All I leave is a few glimmering tears that probably fall to this day.

I feel I will find Lucifer in the Sephirah Binah, with its glass prisms, and lo, I see him on the highest point on the Seat of Binah, the tallest Spire. I land heavily, and I trip. He kneels to help me, and I grab him, and I simply hold him. "I am scared for you, Lucifer. I feel I have only gained a pole-star right as the Dominion would be losing a Morning Star... and now I will lose both lights." "The Lord Creator said I would return... At the End of Everything, you heard Him." Lucifer brushes aside a curl of hair from my vision. "So you mustn't mourn me, please. I already will miss your joy in my isolation. don’t take that from me earlier." “I will miss you also, and fiercely... May I stay with you until you leave?" I ask, looking into his eyes, knowing I may have asked too much from this angel I have barely met, but he nods.

The time we spent felt like forever, and it was perfection. We flew for the flying. We embraced for the sake of contact and comfort. We watched the Dominion and the Host, admired them not for their perfection, but for their beauty. . .

But it all was over too soon, and suddenly, I felt I’d been running on a road that went no farther. My toes over the edge of a cliff, Lucifer’s hand in mine, perched on the precipice of Sephira Malkut. There, beyond the darkness lay the completed Universe. It was so beautiful. Ever-expanding, but still so small.

"It is time," he murmurs, and I hear a Voice utter "Yes" in agreement. Lucifer takes a breath, and with a glance of goodbye, he shifts his balance forward. I see a flash of that fierce look and my heart drops from my chest. . .

Just as his feet are about to lose contact, I take his hand, and I let my balance shift forward as well. "What are you. . .?" Lucifer gasps in surprise as I gather him in close into an embrace. "You looked Afraid. That is not how you should leave the Dominion." "How should I leave it then?" he asks as the air whips past our heads like a memory of that first time we flew. “And are you leaving it with me?” "Fall. Let's Fall until we are afraid." I murmur, tears in my eyes, welling for a feeling I have no name for."And then remember our Wings" he breathes, his eyes reflecting mine, "That we were Blessed with to fly..." we whisper like a secret as we fall past stars and clouds and galaxies, past suns and comets, past rings and sparks towards a beautiful little planet and a beautiful little garden that would one day be called Eden...

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