expunger: (Default)
2019-11-20 09:58 pm

HMD: How's my driving?

Got any feedback? Criticism? Dick-sucking? Suggestions or comments on how I play Raphael? Feel free to leave a comment! Comments are screened, anon is enabled, IP logging is- off.

I welcome crit of all forms, as long as it's constructive, please. This is a hard hat zone.
expunger: (of recoil and grace)
2011-12-17 11:52 pm

accidental video -> text; sunday morning

[The video clicks on softly, with little static or feedback normally associated with angels. It's broadcasting from a rooftop, pointing off-kilter slightly to take in the panorama of Adstringéndum's horizon in the early light of dawn. The sky is striped and bright, the sun only just peeking over the distant horizon to paint the city and Wastes with vivid pinks and oranges that chase away the dusty blues of night. In this beauty sits Raphael, turned so far from the PCD that only a sliver of her face is visible over her shoulder.

Expandcut for tl;dr )

[Filtered from Tom Riddle and Morgana]
What would you think of the chance live forever?

There are those who would seize such an opportunity.

There are those who would refuse. Why?
[She hesitates in typing the next part, reluctant to let slip any notion of uncertainty, but her need for answers compels her. For once, archangels are not the wise ones here. These ridiculous, limited, idiotic humans earned their mortality and their Knowledge of good and evil, she may as well hear what it has to say.] How many years of life is enough?
expunger: (St. Raphael)
2011-12-08 09:20 pm

video

[Locked from Tom Riddle/Unhackable]

[Raphael, even from the first frame of the video, is clearly not a happy camper. There's too much tension around her mouth, her jaw gritted too tightly, like she's one annoyance away from punching somebody.]

Adstringendum, I have a question for you. [Deadly serious, even compared to normal.] What do you know about Tom Riddle?

[Locked to the angels/unhackable]

[Her demeanor changes further- tense, the annoyance erupting into obvious murderous anger that she doesn't even bother trying to hide.]

Hello, brothers. My first encounter with this event was on Sunday morning, when I was switched with Tom Riddle.

[The kids watching at home might notice a distinct lack of a chain around her neck, meaning a distinct lack of Castiel's Grace. She shifts her shoulders like an angry cat and continues.]

He has taken Castiel's Grace and, with it, made a declaration of war. He saw fit to inform me that any attempt to take back what is not his would serve as such. [Lip curling slightly.] He called it our only warning. Evidently the city needs to be freed of us.

I do not know much about him, only that he is extremely dangerous and twisted. His soul did not feel intact. I have full confidence that he will do something disgusting to it- weaponize it, most likely.
expunger: (with balm from Heaven)
2011-11-27 01:32 am

accidental video;

[Gray. The opening shot is all dim gray and dusky, a boring shot of a concrete wall stained with black ash, before too-bright blue-white light knifes through the picture again, causing horrible screaming static for a brief moment. Everything whirls before the PCD lands, now pointed up at a derelict ceiling. From far off, noise can be heard: footsteps, crackling electricity, a low electric tinny and hard breathing. After a long minute the picture shakes again, lifting and turning around to show Raphael's face.

She looks, for lack of a better word, like shit. For an angel she looks exhausted, with faint circles under her eyes. Her skin has a papery quality that is strongly evocative of Lucifer. Face rot dots her hairline and a small spot on one side of her jaw, again very like what Lucifer suffers from. Despite coming out of a terrible event (for which she was a complete hermit, speaking to and seeing no one), there's obviously something else on her mind.]


The Archangel Michael is gone. You would do well to never speak his name again where we can hear it.

[ooc note: anyone going to find her will find her in the Wastes. Yes, even if they poof to her side immediately, angels. She can hustle.]
expunger: (great prince)
2011-10-29 02:43 am

video;

[Guten tag, Adstringendum. Today's daily dose of lineface angel starts off with fog, fog, and more fog, with Raphael's shape only just emerging through the haze. As muted as she normally is, there's something different today- almost constrained, wilted, a little too tight and a little too quiet. She's sitting on what appears to be the bottom of a set of steps- when the fog clears just a little it's obviously stone steps, like a pyramid or a very tall dais.]

There is a glut of idiocy this week.

[She gestures and the PCD rises, turning to face her at a slightly different angle. Behind her, it shows the stone dais- for that's exactly what it is, large steps of a massive grave, consisting of the huge dais leading to an enormous figure seated in a vast marble throne. The grave is impressive, to say the least. The carvings on it, just visible over her shoulder, are all in a mix of Enochian and Hebrew, including the Hebrew inscription of God's own name.]

It is astounding that any of you can survive on your own in this place, if this is how you handle anything new. [Then her expression tightens more, if possible, something dulling in her eyes slightly.] If you cannot learn for yourself, then know this: the graves should not be destroyed.

[Trust her. It isn't worth it. Her mouth presses into a thin, tense line before the feed cuts out altogether.]

[OOC: she's sitting at the base of fake-God's throne/grave in the middle of a ring of archangel graves, including her own, a destroyed Gabriel statue, a Lucifer mausoleum, and a smoking crater where Michael's used to be. Come bother her, bros.]
expunger: (of wisdom and grace)
2011-09-28 07:47 pm

accidental video;

[The first thing to come through is a horrible electronic feedback screeching from everyone's PCD; the video flickers and statics and coughs into life in fits and starts, with the picture scrambled for a few long seconds. The sound of sparks and distant sizzling can be heard.

Expandcut for brackets tl;dr )
expunger: (qui tollis peccata mundi)
2011-09-16 08:42 pm

video; BACKDATED to Wednesday

[Raphael, this time, looks less like the bleeding pile of shit she did last time and more like a meditative businesswoman with dry skin who hasn't slept in a while. She is seated Indian-style on the floor of what is obviously a run-down house; her normal illusions of nice drawing rooms and furnished libraries are gone. Forgotten, even. There's a tenseness around her eyes, a flickering darkness and she has the distinctive sallow-faced, corrosively-dry-skinned unhealthy look of Lucifer himself.]

I have heard talk and complaints about this latest event. People think they have been robbed of their identities, stripped of their selves.

[She looks vaguely disdainful at the concept, but so contemplative.]

The empty places within us call for something to fill them. Can you not wait a week? If you insist on squandering this.

[A blade emerges slowly from one sleeve until Raphael is holding a short sword in one hand. She brings it up to chest level and holds it gingerly between her two index fingers, so it rotates slowly in the air like a rotisserie.]

We do not know our own families. [One hand returns to rest on her knee, and the sword turns up until it's turn in mid-air like an impossible basketball, the sharpened point hovering centimeters over her outstretched finger.] I find it difficult to divine my motivations for my own actions.

But we have no ties that bind us from action or blinders to shield us from essential truths.

[The sword touches her finger and she looks to it slowly- curiously, like she's never seen it before. It presses down harder until drops of bright red blood well around the blade-tip. Raphael seems fascinated when her blood shimmers and tiny but dazzlingly white beams of light strobe from the small wound. Anyone looking at the sword can see creeping veins of rust spread slowly up the blade.]

In the absence of prejudice, clarity is easily grasped. The irrational contradictions we tolerate fall away.

We are not stripped. We are free.
expunger: (Angel of Health!)
2011-08-20 04:53 pm

video; angel filter~

[PRIVATE to the angels]

[Raphael looks unwell, still. The strange pallor hasn't left her, the unhealthy look that has long characterized Lucifer's corroding vessel. Her eyes are dimmed with something that might be exhaustion, or might be something else. It's strange, that she should use the PCD for this, given her preference for angel radio- but that hurts a little too much to use right now.

Her short message is entirely in Enochian.]


You may know that Castiel is dead. You may not know that I killed him.

That is all you need to know.

[End feed.]
expunger: (Iesu Christe)
2011-08-16 04:06 pm

video; OPEN TO OFFLINE

[Hi, Adstring. Have a Raphael.

She looks like shit.

We're talking pale, dark circles under the eyes, like she did when she was human and when three days without eating or sleeping. Or maybe this is the look of someone who's been living on a diet of meth and back-alley blowjobs- it's hard to say. What's easy to tell is the exhaustion, the lines around her eyes, a creeping paleness that, to some, will be recognizable as the same sickly skin tone found on Lucifer when he's been too long without a demon blood fix. She's uncharacteristically sitting down against the inside of the outer wall, and looks like she just lost a fight, with bruises blossoming darkly against her dark skin; they're hard to see in this light, but obvious to anyone who notices. There's blood on her shirt, but none on her.]


I would like today to talk about faith. [There's blood on her teeth she hasn't washed out yet. Raphael pauses, thinks for a moment, and when she speaks they're sparkling white again. She's tense, but it belies the massive amount of pain she's currently in.] Ideas about the divine are obviously shaken by time spent in this pandimensional cell block, but any world worth knowing knows some version of the Almighty.

Tell me, Adstringéndum. What do you believe in?

[Private to Lucifer (added in many hours later):]

Lucifer. Talk to me. In person.


((ooc: This is open to offlines from anybody! She's against the outer wall in the Northeast quarter. NOTE to anybody who can sense evil and good, or darkness and light: Raphael may confuse those senses... more than you'd expect. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.))
expunger: (Default)
2011-08-01 01:38 am

Accidental video; riiiight at midnight~

[The feed clicks on for about ten seconds of nothing in particular - just a crooked shot of a brown elbow and the sounds of breathing - before a blinding light overtakes everything, and a sound so piercing you'll want to cover your ears and try to physically turn away from it.

A few seconds, and it's gone. When the PCD clatters to the floor, it's pointing just up enough to catch Raphael, looking as surprised as anyone, gazing at her leg. For the kids at home who aren't an archangel or Jinx, the first time anyone has seen the splint on her (formerly) broken leg is right now, when the splint shatters into nothingness and she gets off the couch with inhuman grace. The pendant around her neck from her previous powerless posts is now glowing and swirling brightly.

She looks down herself, flexing her hands like she's never seen them before and breathing in something sweeter than air and for the first time in a very long time, she smiles. Take a picture, kids, this won't last long.

Speak of the devil, and it will appear: after only a few seconds she notices the PCD, and in a disorienting flash it's in her hand before flickering off.]


[Private to Sokka]

My brother tells me someone else inspected him first. I now have more than enough power to do something about this. Someone so unhinged cannot be allowed freedom in this city.
expunger: (and guide our steps)
2011-07-24 02:34 pm

voice;

[Helloooooooo Adstringendum! Did you miss everybody's least favorite lineface angel? Well, too bad, she's here anyway. In fact, she's been conspicuously silent for days, with nary a trolling thread or comment chimed in anywhere on anybody's feed. She's been locked in the Chateau with her splinted (broken) leg in the air, counting cracks in the wall and being enormously crabby. Enjoy that, archangels and Jinx. Enjoy. That.

There's little audible difference in her voice, but someone listening extremely closely might here a tension there, a strain- and, sometimes, the too-careful enunciation of someone trying not to sound buzzed. Look, what passes for painkillers from Unohana don't do much. She took matters into her own hands.]


But of course there is a bomb. [So dry. So so dry. You can almost taste the utter, seething hate of everything that has ever existed or will ever be.] When we are powerless- someone here knows how to plan.
expunger: (Default)
2011-07-20 09:48 pm

video; archangel filter; backdated to wed at 1 am

[PRIVATE to Michael, Lucifer, and Gabriel]

[The PCD is facing something indistinct and gray at first. That primal scream, the smashing and cacophony of thunderous bangs and crashes? There's no sign of it at all when Raphael picks up the PCD, smiling placidly and not even breathing hard. Ignore the smashed, destroyed cabinet behind her and the shattered china littering the room. Everything's cool.

She has a severed arm in hand, slung over her shoulder like a golf club between holes or a very Tarantino hobo pack. Everything's fine.

Raphael has a black eye and a series of interesting bruises and cuts all over her, that look at least a day old.]


Brothers. If you need me, I will be exploring the pantry of the chateau.

[Click. Fucking. Off.]
expunger: (consoler of the afflicted)
2011-07-17 12:58 pm

video; ~*~PRIVATE TO AANG~*~

[She tested the filters a few times first- but now that she's assured that they're back, this goes out to our very own depowered Avatar. She looks... considerably better than she has on any post or in any feed since they all lost their powers. It probably has something to do with finally sleeping last night, for the first time in four days.]

Aang.
expunger: (and refuge of sinners.)
2011-07-14 09:47 pm

accidental audio; WHEREIN THE ANGELS FINALLY FEED THEMSELVES

[There's clanking and shuffling and all kinds of weird you-just-got-butt-dialed sounds. There's a distant voice that gets clearer then blurry in random jolts, a very familiar deep-voiced woman murmuring something constantly, almost urgently. It sounds like she's talking to herself, in that weirdly urgent tone when a person is trying to both talk themselves out of something and convince themselves that they aren't crazy. The voice is in accented English that drifts out of Latin and sometimes French: -Maketh me to lie down in green pastures, he leadeth me beside the still- and random noises again, and the rustling of bags and -restoreth my soul, he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. For- and some weird static and a very loud BANG that's actually just her bag sitting down on a flat surface. Rustling, rustling - -walk through the valley of - and rasping sounds like hands scraping over a microphone - i shall fear no - crinkle, crinkle, clank - art with me, thy rod and - clatter static what - they comfort me.

A series of rustle-bang-CRASH, and long silence. Then, very distantly and almost inaudible to someone with not-so-good-hearing:]


You've got to be kidding me. [SOUNDS LIKE STEPS AND REEEEAAACHING FOR THE PCD. Raphael sounds so fucking amused, but actually very composed and... shockingly mature, if we're all being honest.]

Hm. Of course this week they would post without our consent.

Let it be known, brothers of mine, that I come with gifts better than frankincense and myrrh.

[Click and OFF.]

((NOTE FOR ANYONE DOING OFFLINE THREADS: Raphael came back looking over 9000% better than when she left. FOr instance, she doesn't look like she's about to pass out and die. She's also down to a camisole. Shh. It was totally her idea. She didn't get heat exhaustion and faint in front of Rachel Berry. Shut up leave her alone she is an angel of the Lord.))
expunger: (Default)
2011-07-13 12:18 am

(no subject)

[All that posts is a single word, painted onto a nondescript wall in unpleasant-looking mud.]



[It's Enochian for "Grace." The PCD doesn't translate because it's only a picture. Raphael needs to ask a question, but the world doesn't need to know.]
expunger: (consoler of the afflicted)
2011-06-26 11:17 pm

video;

[Deep breath. Raphael has little patience for involvement in the petty problems of humans, but she was clearly sent here for a reason. There's no harm in finding out what. Maybe taking up the old mantle of healing would be harmless.]

Well. [She's standing on a rooftop, looking utterly unconcerned by the flooding all around them.] It seems considerable damage has been done to the city.

[Fill in the blanks yourselves. She makes no offers without being asked.]
expunger: (Default)
2011-06-15 12:51 am

text; i apologize for spam

Everyone should be advised that all angels are liars, not just the ones with the misfortune of being new to this place. Having played host to Lucifer and survived the Animus for so long, I have no doubt as to the ability of the residents here to handle themselves like adults.

[Filtered to Anna]

You can relax, you know. I can hear your tension from here. I'm not going to waste my energy so far from Heaven and its laws, or go against Michael.

[Filtered to Gabriel]

If you need healing.
expunger: (guide to those)
2011-06-13 10:50 pm

sing choirs of angels, sing in exaltation

[The feed clicks on clumsily, jumbled and clearly in the hands of someone who doesn’t know how it works. After a few seconds it comes to rest in midair pointed at a stern-faced woman in a distressingly stylish pantsuit. There’s little expression on her face but cold harshness, the kind of severe near-blankness of cold fury. Only three people in the world know her well enough to read in her expression that something is deeply wrong. Only one person could see how rattled and scared she is under the anger.]

Whoever’s keeping me here is making a big mistake.

[Her deep voice doesn’t waver at all, not even in the slightest. Raphael’s mind is racing: she suspects Castiel’s doing, given how obviously bloated on power he was, but calling him out by name seems suicidally reckless at this point. She can’t escape. That much is obvious. She’s tried flying out over and over and over again until she exhausted herself utterly and had to return, Grace bruised and wings hurting. She draws herself up, all wounded pride and narrowed eyes.]

I will not be caged like an animal.