Xas can go freely.

@angelusxas

Your angel, once a year and every year. A lower-angel not mentioned in scripture or lore. A treaty between Lucifer and God, left to his study and travel, welcomed in Hell but not so much in Heaven. ----- Xas from 'The Vintner's Luck' Multi-verse and multi-everything else.

59 posts

From your adoring follower: You're pretty awesome so tell us some stuff about yourself! Say five facts about yourself and then send this to ten of your favorite followers who you absolutely love. (To participate at your discretion or inclination, of course.)

oh wow bby. five. okay.

I have long, white hair. I'm basically an elf.

I have 'direwolves' sort of, a husky, a malamute (who's like 140lb) and a puppy of theirs, a crossbreed. And a cat and a chihuahua.

I study English Literature and Creative Writing. I'm planning on doing a Masters degree and a PhD, but I'm not sure if I'll go the literature route or the writing route.

I can be super lazy with replies if we don't talk ooc.

I'm on a diet that, hopefully, will work.

Keep off the grass || kingoftheravens

kingoftheravensarchive

Loki made a face, one of displeasure, unamusement, and distrust and not once did it fade as he stared at the stranger, suspicion crawling through his veins. “What right, pray tell, does a bloody angel have to look at a Norse God?” His words came out cold and harsh and he narrowed those malachite eyes to scrutinize the other. Was this individual sent here? Did he have a real purpose being here that he was hiding? So few people and things could make Loki’s blood boil as it currently was, but anything falling beneath the rule of that atrocious Christian God was certainly one of them.

“Get out! Get out of here! I don’t want Christian scum on my property or anywhere near my house, for that matter! Go away, shoo!”

It wasn't as if Xas was afraid of him, no, he was startled. Much like a young bird he seemed to trip over the length of his wings--he was not very used to being in a confined place and the porch certainly counted as one.

'Not all angels come from Heaven, Loki,' he pointed out. But he left as he was told to and did not return to the porch.

Instead he found himself a tree and sat. The tree wasn't near to the house but it was close enough that Loki would be able to see him and close enough that he would be able to see Loki. It was almost as if there were stars in his eyes.

He left that day, though, and did not come back, not until a month had passed and he had grown weary of watching the other man from afar. As interesting as it was it was upsetting. Xas wanted to see his face, his expressions, he wanted to hear his voice and see the way he spoke to his birds, it was all very peculiar. A God, he thought, a King, living amongst the mortals--it was something his own father would hate to do.

He watched again, a little smile on his face as he lounged in a closer tree. He was visible, that much was certain, fawn and black wings against the green leaves hardly a camouflage. He lay on a thick branch on his stomach, watching through the other man's window. There was a raven in the tree with him and he rustled his own wings at the bird, which did not move, before turning his attentions back to Loki, willing him to come outside.

#kingoftheravens

"Why do I think you’re here..?" Grantaire asked, taking a long drink of wine. "Let’s see, let’s see… reasons that angels come to Earth to visit a man such as myself? Surely I have done something…” the cynic murmured thoughtfully. When the angel told him otherwise, he glanced back at him, a loud laugh escaping his lips before he could stop it.

"Oh, I believe you are wrong, for surely I have done plenty. Fornication, fornication with men, no less— oh, don’t tell the king, for he would surely have my head… Then again, what do I care?” Grantaire laughed bitterly, leaning back on his hands. “On that note, suicidal thoughts, my lack of belief in God or anything else…” The drunkard hummed thoughtfully and glanced up at the sky. “There are certainly a million reasons an angel would visit me…

A dark cloud, you say? Oh, do you intend to lift it? Because I don’t think you can…” Grantaire laughed lightly. “I don’t believe that there is any way. Because your appearance has made no alterations in the things that I do or don’t believe in. Perhaps I am sleeping— perhaps I am going mad. Doubt the senses, monsieur, for they are deceptive.”

Xas almost smirked at the other man's words. Fornication with men. What difference it made he didn't know, nor care. He had done the same thing, multiple times. He listened though as the man spoke about himself, the things he had done and he wondered briefly if it made him feel any better about it all. It was unlikely. Many men of the time had relations with both men and women and nothing had been done about it, not by him or God.

'I have not come here to change anything, Grantaire, that's not what I do. Though someday the cloud may lift, I cannot say for sure whether it will be my doing or the doing of another man or woman, I don't know what hasn't yet happened.'

The angel took another mouthful of the wine, letting it sit on his tongue for a time before swallowing,

'But I agree with you, your friends are foolish to assume that they change the world so swiftly. I believe that your Enjolras cares not for the lives of others as much as he thinks he does. For he knows the truth and it must prevail regardless of your life, the lives of your friends, no? There may well be another Reign of Terror.'

He paused, his eyes on Grantaire, wondering if he would die, if he would be here the year coming.

'Are you armed?'

thetremorofahymn

Enjolras pushed his fingers through his hair and sighed a bit, nodding slowly at the suggestion. “I might need to relax for a moment, yes…” He never relaxed. In fact, the chief hardly ever got proper sleep. He was a man who kept himself busy even when his friends advised him to do otherwise. He was not tempted by wine or tobacco the way other men were. He was just as disinterested in sex— he had better things to do. But now, after such a fight had left him so shaken, he knew he needed to relax. The time was growing near, and he did not need to be fighting with family. Not when they might never see him again.

He slowly took the offer of wine from Xas, thanking him softly as he took a drink from the glass. Perhaps he was simply tired and this was all some sort of dream, but if it wasn’t, then this angel must be here for something. His interest would not be enough of a motivator for him to reveal himself to a human, surely.

Enjolras slowly looked over at Xas once more, chewing on his lip. “Would you tell me why you’ve really come to talk to me? Certainly there’s something you want, or something I’ve done…” He couldn’t believe that this was just a casual visit.

Xas watched the young man, he seemed so very caught up in his world that he didn't take time to care for himself. This, Xas often thought, was a great flaw of the human race. He gave a soft sight and turned himself to look at the other man, he could, unfortunately, give no valid reply.

'You haven't done anything, not yet. I watch people and sometimes I like to talk to them. I won't just be here for one night and off again in the morning, I'll come back. I like to make friends on Earth.'

The angel shrugged again, he supposed it was true, after all he did want to make friends and Enjolras hadn't done anything yet. He supposed he would, but what did Xas know? He wasn't God, he didn't know the future. He smiled some and stretched his wings out behind the both of them, the bones crackled slightly and he made a face but soon settled.

'Why? Do you think you've done something to merit my being here?'

"If I am to be truthful with you," He began as he watched the other settle against the sofa in the little space Zaire had come to class as some semblance of a living room or lounge. "I’m too distracted with other things at times that I barely take notice of whether it is enough or it isn’t."

There had been many a time when he had simply stood in his little apartment and contemplated greater things, and there had been many a time in which he had found himself questioning whether his search for something to occupy his time was nothing more than an attempt to bury the troubles the ever-expanding years brought.

"Do you miss them?" he asked, sympathetically though he had delivered it with hesitation, seating himself on the edge of the coffee table that was placed in front of Xas. He knew that there would be no need to explain his question to his brother; he had found himself wanting to ask what became of his feelings toward the loss of his wings when he had stumbled across him in the courtyard.

There had been something so very troubled in the way Xas had carried himself, something almost incomplete about his presence. The angel wondered if the loss of his brother’s wings had taken something else with them - something more akin to a deeper portion of himself.

Miss them? He didn't know. He didn't know if he missed them. He knew where they were, he and Sobran had placed them in the wine barrels in Vully, he knew that. He could always go away and get them, but what use was it? He often felt the phantom twinges of them, twitched of muscle that weren't there any more but did he miss them?

'I don't think so. I miss my garden, I miss flying, but I don't think I miss the wings, not really. They were feather and bone, I miss what came with them, that's all.'

He shrugged his shoulders a little bit and let himself relax back against the couch properly. Xas had been walking for a long time, his shoes were worn and his clothes were not the cleanest they could have been, he couldn't remember how far he'd walked, he knew he'd been in Spain some weeks ago and now he was here, he couldn't remember if he drove or walked, because he certainly didn't fly.

'But I can fly other ways. I still have a pilot's licence, I can fly that way.'

ofloveandlostcauses

angelusxas came for guidance

angelusxas

♑ ♊ – In contempt and vanity did the lost causes now live; disgraced was St Jude, he who blessed the lost causes with hope and good tidings. Initially a response was not provided; the fallen clasped the cigarette between his lips and inhaled deeply, lips parting in a brief, angular fashion to allow a gentle billow of smoke to be exuded.

Those who had slandered him a traitor, filth to their kin, who dared to refer to him now as brother, were met with only sharp words in the weft of the venomous feelings that ran deep through his tired veins.

"Make it quick. You lot don’t associate with ‘baby brother' unless you want something from me.”

Xas stood in front of him as if he were a man on child, subject to harsh words and to venomous eyes. He frowned a little and crossed to where his brother sat and he sat beside him. For a moment he was quiet, his eyes on his hands and his head bowed.

'I don't want anything from you,' he said finally, his lips pursed and his eyes still on fidgeting hands, 'well, no, I suppose I do. But not really.'

Xas was hardly ever the nervous type, more often than not he could express himself in fanciful flourishes of language, make the words sizzle on the air between himself and his partner, but not now, now he was just afraid. He wasn't afraid of Thaddeus, no, but he was afraid of talking to him, asking something of him.

'I wish only to spend some time with you. The earth is a lonely place.'

#ofloveandlostcauses

"Of course," he began with a small and resolute nod, a soft and empathetic smile. "You’re under no obligation to stay, brother." He had felt it had been somewhat of an accomplishment that he had the other’s agreement to stay, if only for a short spell. He traced the contours of the angel’s thumb with his own, absentmindedly, when Xas knitted their fingers.

"Follow me, and I shall take you." He allowed the other to finish his drink before coaxing him from the little table to lead him from the courtyard, down to the Ponte Santa Trinita to cross over the flowing Arno. Florence was still greatly a religious city, and Zaire had often mused on whether he had found this a strange comfort or whether it disturbed him.

The walk wasn’t far, although it may have been considered far by those that could tire by covering distance on foot alone. The access to his apartment wasn’t grand in any way; the rickety staircase around the back of the building looked as though it had fallen from the arc after Noah was done with it, but it served its purpose as he lead Xas upwards and into the modest warmth of his little studio apartment. "Please, make yourself comfortable. At home, if you can. I wouldn’t begrudge you that."

'You speak as if I never settle, Zaire,' he muttered, following along as they made their way to his house. Once there it was warm and homey, homey simply because it belonged to his brother and how he loved his brother. His lovely, sweet brother. He smiled at the other man's words and wandered into the house.

He looked around in mild curiosity. In the last house he'd made home in he had had his own room, here he would not, but he did not mind sleeping with his brother--sleeping as far as sleeping for Angels went anyway. It would be warm, at least. Some part of him wanted something to eat or something to drink but he could not bring himself to bother.

Xas crossed the little flat and sat himself on the sofa, the frayed edges where his wings had been rubbed against the cushion behind him and he reveled in the feel--it was not often they felt anything.

'It's very nice, Zaire, it's cosy. Is it enough for you? i have never lived alone on this Earth, I could not bear to be alone.'

bravestaesir-deactivated2018031

Tales of Travels || Xas

There was something so alluring about traveling that nothing could come to compare to. While, yes, it was enjoyable to be near his family and friends, to be able to enjoy their company and the array of numerous things offered in and around the palace of Asgard, it didn’t beat the effects of travel. And Tyr traveled more than he saw those he held near and dear to his heart, at least nowadays. Since the binding of Fenrir, he’d done everything he could to get himself away from Asgard and the memories lingering in the courtyards and the halls that made his day to day life unbearable.

Traveling always helped. If only a little.

The ground below him was still damp from last night’s rain and Tyr paused to to move it about with the toe of his boot, testing out how malleable it was and if it would be safe to sit on (without risk of dirt getting stuck to his arse). Unamused by his findings, he took to perching on a decently sized boulder just a few paces away, snatching up a nearby stick to begin tracing runes into the dirt and maybe an odd picture or two. There was an earthly silence around him, filled only with bird chirps and the occasional insect noises, maybe the rustle of trees in the occasional breeze, as well, but nothing more. It was strangely relaxing, though for the God it relaxed him only as much as was possible these days.

It could often be hard to tell what he was, sometimes a particularly large bird perched in the highest branches of a tree, sometimes a sleepy or drunken hallucination, and sometimes he was what he was. He was an angel, from Hell, with a great interest in botany, a collector and cultivator of earthly species.

He had come to claim another for his garden. He kept a garden in hell, beneath a large, glass dome, carefully coloured glass to keep heat on one side and to release it on the other, tropical plants grew alongside their cold climate counterparts.

Xas did not notice Tyr, not completely, he felt a presence there and, in fact, he saw the man there, sitting on a boulder, writing things in the mud, but he paid no mind at first. Instead he simply walked past him--he took care not to disturb the drawings--bare feet squelching in the mud and wings held high enough as not to dirty them. He stopped, grasped a plant in his hand and carefully pried it, roots and all, from the ground.

He made his way back.

He stopped, looked at the man, looked at the runes and then back to his face.

'What do those mean?' Xas had thought himself knowledgeable enough in most things earthly to know what they meant, but this baffled him slightly. Perhaps it was simply something he had forgotten over time.

thetremorofahymn

Enjolras normally would have brushed off a request to sit at a time like this. He would have claimed to be busy, on the way to a meeting, on the way to lunch— anything to avoid a situation in which he might be compelled to open up to someone about what he was feeling. And yet, he found himself stepping closer to the angel, blue eyes fixed on his wings.

"They are, yes," he said, sitting next to the creature and pressing his face into his hands. "It will be fine. I am not going to let them throw me off." He took just a moment to compose himself before sitting straight, eyes falling on the angel once more. Suddenly, he wondered if perhaps his father had gotten fed up with him and knocked him out and he was dreaming. His father had never hit him before, but an angel being here did not make sense…

Enjolras did believe, though. He just couldn’t understand why an angel would come to visit him— especially now. Perhaps because his parents had left him feeling vulnerable. “Why are you here?”

When Enjolras pressed his face into his hands Xas could not help but press a comforting hand to his back--between his shoulders, he could feel the brush of the ends of his hair. When he sat up he didn't draw his hand back immediately. he stroked at the boy's soft, golden hair. Enjolras was far more angelic than he was, he reminded him some of the other angels and how they looked, like marble statues, far from human.

Enjolras seemed far from human much of the time. He seemed untouchable when he spoke to his crowds but now, now, here soft and quiet he was undeniably human. Xas didn't want to draw his hand back and it took great willpower for him to do so, but eventually he did, setting it back into his lap.

'I am here, I'm always here. Angel or not I still like to roam the earth,' he said, as if that was his entire explanation, but then he caved, unable to mislead or tell a lie to him, 'and you interested me.'

The angel gave a very human shrug of the shoulders and smiled. He didn't know what else he could say, Enjolras was sweet and charming, though he knew many of his friends did not see that in him. To them he was their chief, some, he knew, simply wanted him to be their friend, their lover. Enjolras was marble.

'Perhaps you shouldn't think about it and just relax instead. Take a breath, put your feet up,' he paused, rustling around in the foliage beside him, 'I have some wine. From warmer lands.'

Grantaire watched him for a moment and shrugged lightly, tipping his head to the side. “True— could be worse. I could be imagining blood running down the walls or people running down the street on fire…” he murmured. “Instead I get a hot angel.” The drunkard smirked playfully at the creature before him. When the wine was brought out he stepped forward, placing himself next to the angel.

"A hot angel who’s offering me wine. Perhaps this is the sweetest way to lose my mind…" Grantaire mused, propping his feet up on a cardboard box that had been tossed out of the building they were sitting by. He thought for a moment about how his words had rhymed, and how Jehan ought to hear about it… if he could remember.

"So, what have I done to receive this visit, hmm?" he asked, taking a sip of wine. He hummed softly at the taste, eyes slipping shut.

Xas' lips turned up into a smile of his own at the compliment and the wings twitched ever so slightly. He was well aware that he had a form pleasing to the eye but they all did, he was nothing special. He let Grantaire take the wine from his hand and placed both back into his lap.

'Should I not have visited? Why do you think I'm here?'

The angel shrugged his shoulders slightly and took to watching the other man drink the wine. He liked to watch the bob of the other's throat as he swallowed and the way his tongue slipped across his lips in the most unintentionally sensual way. Xas was no stranger to intimacy, to sex, men liked to have sex with him and he was not surprised. He assumed there was some kind of defiance, or blasphemy, in it for them. But he did not come from Heaven but from Hell.

'You haven't done anything, no, but I saw you stumbling along with such a dark cloud over your head that I thought I might pay you a visit.'

banish-the-tick-tock-archiv-blog

Perhaps, ponders Peter,

this is a bird, not an angel.

A funny looking bird, but one nonetheless. It seems less like an angel as time goes on.

He doesn’t like being asked about his state of aloneness, and so Peter gives the being a s h a r p look, eyes never moving from his face.

{“‘Tis better to be alone than among traitors. I live aboard this ship.”}

It is not often he is at the receiving end of a sharp eye--though at the other end even rarer--so he makes no move to change the conversation.

'And what happens aboard a ship alone in times of crisis?'

He eyes up Peter again before moving, and he moved as normal, feel on the damp deck, making marks that soon fade, examining.

'When the seas are rough and the skies are black. One man cannot crew a ship.'

#banishthetickticktocktock

Grantaire blinked and turned to look at the angel, walking backwards now. “Well, I laugh because—” He stumbled over a crack in the pavement and steadied himself, deciding that it might be best if he chose not to move any further until he was watching where he was going again. “I laugh, Monsieur, because I am clearly hallucinating, and I really thought all I’d done today was drink. Perhaps I am losing my mind.”

He’d had hallucinations before— generally brought on by his drug usage. He hadn’t had any in a while, since he’d been sticking to just alcohol lately, but here he was, imagining an angel in the middle of the street. Usually it was his Apollo that he imagined with wings. This certainly was not him, no matter how beautiful he was.

'Well, yes, perhaps you are losing your mind but what better way to lose your mind than to see the divine?' he asked with a little smile. The wings rustled behind him, twitching open and then closed again, drawn in against his body.

He eyed up Grantaire. There had been many times in his life that he had wished he could read the mind of whatever human he was looking at, following or talking to, just to make things easier. Xas reached down to the side of where he sat and pulled up a bottle of wine, uncorked it and took a sip; he held it out.

'You should try it, it's sweet, from Turkey.'

thetremorofahymn

This argument was unlike any other argument that the boy had had with his father. They all started out the same— Enjolras mentioning equality and his father shooting him down, telling him how utterly ridiculous it was to wish everyone had the same when he had so much more. This time, however, Enjolras revealed how he really felt about his parents before storming out, and he was almost certain he would not have a place to live when he returned from the Cafe.

Enjolras had for quite some time longed to be the focus of his parents, the one thing that would motivate them no matter what. He had never been that. From the time he was young on into adulthood, Enjolras rarely even saw his parents, who were too motivated by money to spend any real time with him. He suspected, even, that his parents only had him so that they could have an heir to their fortune. So he’d told them how he felt about it and stormed out before either of them could dare try and give him a response.

When Enjolras first laid eyes upon the angel, he looked away once more, as if he’d seen nothing at all. Then it seemed to hit him and he slowed to a stop, turning his face to glance over at the creature with wide eyes. The chief swallowed thickly and stood perfectly still, only doubting it for a moment. He hadn’t been getting a lot of sleep lately… perhaps he was seeing things?

Xas was often overlooked by people, but that was men in their drunken state more often than not, or those who did not want to believe what they had seen. When Enjolras passed him he was mildly surprised but then the man turned again. The man, the boy, was facing him and he was looking right back.

He waved, fingers wiggling at Enjolras.

'Do you want to sit down?' he asked. His voice was peculiar, he had been told, his first encounters were almost always calm, serene in that ethereal way he thought was expected of him. Truth be told that he had picked up more than his fair share of human behaviours. There were emotions he had learned to feel over time--though still many he hadn't--that came through in his voice. But an Angel was passive and an angel was kind; and he didn't want to scare anybody away.

Enjolras had been called an angel more than once and Xas had come to see what all the fuss was about--though humans knew not the gravity of the word. Angels were far from all-loving beings, they had a history of questionable action and morals.

'You should breathe. Parents can be trying.'

cynicingreen-deactivated2014062

Of all the bizarre things he’d seen while drunk, this was certainly one of the more elaborate ones. He wasn’t even a religious man, having long given up on the idea of faith and God. The closest thing he had ever come to believing in the divine was Enjolras, but that was more by comparison, if anything. Then again, the man did often develop a sort of righteous fury and direct it at the kyriarchy, or Grantaire himself.

Grantaire laughed dryly. “Certainly, I cannot be the most interesting or sad drunk in all of Paris. There are far more unfortunate than I. There are souls much more worthy of your…attention. Or stalking, perhaps, I cannot tell the difference.”

Xas laughed quietly, his feet making no noise on the ground as he followed the other man.

'It is true, Grantaire, yes, that there are others sadder and others less fortunate, but that is not what I see in people. There are few more interesting than you are. Constantly underestimating yourself.'

There was nothing he could do, at least not now, about Grantaire's ways and he saw no use in even trying, for he was not there to make Grantaire feel better. He wasn't there to change the course of history.

'What are your friends doing? What do you think of it?'

genoura-deactivated20140509

[ eternity, an open roleplay ]

genoura-deactivated20140509

He didn’t quite know what that meant, but he nodded anyway. Lucas was rather good at that, pretending. Playing a role in order to entertain, perform, deceive. But today he did not feel like doing anything. He had no desire to see the people who walked on the street, or even the birds that flew in circles above his home. There was probably a word for that, however he did not know it.

The boy stood, avoiding the gaze of the stranger.

"I really… Should get going," he muttered. The other was, ah, permitted to come along to wherever he would venture to next (Lucas would "find" a place), though it was their choice whether or not they would come. Secretly, he wished they wouldn’t.

Oh well. The poor boy would have to pretend some more then.

The boy's words he heard but he didn't see any movement and a small smile curled his lips upwards. He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned his body towards Lucas, waiting for a moment before really doing anything, then he stepped closer. Xas would go with him, despite having been amongst humans for longer than he'd like to remember--disfigured and wingless--he still wasn't very good at their social cues.

He didn't blame himself, it wasn't for lack of trying, it was simply that they changed over time. Once upon a time it would have been I'm going home rather than I should go home. He had decided, and it had been in play for some time now, to ignore them. He was good at receiving straight orders and that was what he would wait for.

'You don't look very well today, are you sick, or tired?'

satyriiasis-deactivated20140531

{ old friend }

satyriiasis-deactivated20140531

At first he was afraid that his gesture might have been rude, but when Xas laughed, Jonah took this as a sign that it was alright. When the feathers were laid out across his lap, he found himself fascinated, yet he didn’t know quite what to do. After a moment of complete stillness, he decided to pet them softly.

”Feathers fall out?” he asked curiously. Of course they did, he thought after asking. It was probably something like a bird, where the feathers feel out every so often, or even animals with fur and when they shed. He did wonder if it hurt to rip a feather out, but he supposed it did and therefore it wasn’t worth asking.

Heat seemed to radiate out of Xas, and his wing. Jonah was unsure if it was himself that was just abnormally cold, which wasn’t a far fetched notion, or if Xas was just very warm, and that could have been the case because for all Jonah knew it could have been an angel thing. Regardless, it caused a slight shift in Jonah just a bit closer to Xas.

Xas nodded slowly at the question,

'Yes, they do, when I'm flying sometimes, or when I'm upset or angry they fall out, sometimes it depends on mood and sometimes it doesn't, it's all very peculiar, I suppose.'

There had been many quiet pauses between them already and Xas could only imagine that it would certainly continue. Jonah was a sensitive soul and he had to be cautious with him, he had to keep that in his mind at all times. Sobran had been sensitive, to an extent, nothing like this. He had been a true nineteenth century man.

He didn't mind Jonah sitting next to him and he didn't mind him moving closer either.

'Are you going to tell me why you were hiding?' he asked.

creatorxdestroyer-archive

//oh hai dad

Hi there….

//dna test shows you are not the father

Xas can go freely. @angelusxas - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag