#archangel network

[pl9090]

Archangel Mobile Network .S.I.M. card mockup As always constructive criticism is welcomed.

While the Archangel Network is stated to have been the .U.K.'s first 4G Network I thought that out of ego The Master would have added some more advanced 5G features to show off hence why its based on a present day 2020's card instead of a mid to late 2000's one to highlight this.

[doctorwhogirlie]

'Vote Saxon' References in Doctor Who:

Love and Monsters: A newspaper says that Saxon is leading polls.

The Runaway Bride: Mr Saxon gives the order shoot down the Empresses ship

Torchwood Episode (Captain Jack Harkness): Vote Saxon poster

Smith and Jones: Vote Saxon poster

The Lazarus Experiment: Mr Saxon helped the Lazarus Experiment

The Lazarus Experiment: A man working for Mr Saxon warns Francine of the Doctor

42: Mr Saxon agents are questioning Francine

The Sound of Drums: Mr Saxon is revealed as the Master

Archangel Network: (The Archangel Network was a series of 15 satellites in stationary orbit around Earth. The Archangel Network was designed by The Master, the network used mind control by creating a weak signal telling people to trust Saxon and vote for him.)

42: The Archangel Network is on Martha's phone.

42/The Sound of Drums: The Archangel Network logo is shown on a laptop belonging to people that work for Mr Saxon

The Sound of Drums: The logo appears on a laptop screen

The Sound of Drums: The full details of the Archangel network are detailed in a newspaper article

Source.

[xirosh]

Test

(Searching for a post on my blog)

Edit: if anyone can help me find the post containing fictional Evil Corpo logos in pride colours/going full rainbow capitalism I'd be forever thankful

[saxon-official]

If the Doctor has two friends and each has a key to the TARDIS and there are a total of 13 hidden extra keys throughout his jacket, when the planet of Earth turns three degrees and the network of fifteen precisely aligned satellites in 2007 how many keys will you need to create a paradox machine?

I don't know what you are going on about but I can assure you that archangel is 100%

[blueboxphenomenon]

Visit Original Link

Did anyone else get this weird signal when calling someone on the Archangel Network? I stuck with O2 myself. 

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

since you've been writing a lot of spn stuff- can i request something with hands, autumn, & raphael. if not its ok!!!

My lovely, it is more than okay, and it is my pleasure. I hope you enjoy!

Patient eyes regarded darkening skies, glancing surreptitiously for the first flickers of lightning, counting each second between one breath of thunder and the next. The heavens were dancing in the fading violets of the setting sun, twinkling with their robust bedazzlement of stars. But the creeping greys and navies drew ever nearer, an ominous formation promising devastation should its warnings not be heeded. You took another sip of your drink, eyes slipping shut against the threat drawing nearer and nearer. Goose flesh rose on your arms as the barometric pressure continued to drop, electricity a near tangibility in the air. Still, you paid no mind, rather distracted by the delightful mixture of warmed spices harmonizing on your tongue before steadily making their way to settle within the cockles of your heart. The first hissing droplets of rain against the concrete made you pause, lowering your cup. Your eyes remained shut however, keenly listening to each huff of the wind, each furious growl of thunder. There was a righteous fury to this storm, rapidly centering itself around the small pavilion in which you had claimed temporary sanctuary. A small irritation of your own began to swell, enough to remove the contentment from your lips, eyes opening to narrow slits as you beheld the chaos beyond the wooden structure. Leaves formerly splattered in scarlets and golds and blazing siennas had been cast into murky waters, all vibrancy overwhelmed by the melancholic ferocity tossing them about in a whirlwind. Soft illumination from antiquated lanterns was subdued to dimmed pallor, spectral shifts shimmering against near impenetrable shadow. Somewhere nearby, but beyond line of sight, a tree creaked as it succumbed to the wind, the echo lost to the relentless chaos of the storm. Mild irritation grew into surging irascibility, cup set onto the wooden planks of the tabletop beneath you as you stood on the bench, devoid of any of the carefree optimism that had been so abundant earlier in the evening. "You can cut the theatrics; I'm not going anywhere!" Your words could have been nothing more than a bee's wing brushing against a flower petal, the shift of a spider's leg as it perfected another layer of its web; your proclamation was near unintelligible when faced with the terrible volume from the storm. But between the small shift in the direction of the wind and the answering roar of thunder- loudest of all- your confidence grew. Resolute, you leapt from your post, striding to the edge of your shelter, a feral smile crossing your lips with bitter abandon, doing well to hide the first twists of anxiety deep within your gut. You had worked so hard to create this confrontation, and now when presented with the grim reality of your circumstances, fear was worming its way through you, whispers from Panic tracing against your neck, her loathsome ally Doubt curling her fingers against your spine. Determined, you ignored those annoying agents of Chaos, stepping forward into the deluge. The first strike of lightning hit scarcely meters away, flash temporarily blinding you, crack deafening and shaking the ground beneath you. Reflexive instinct had you stumbling away, trying to shield yourself against the effects far too late. When your vision faded from jaded blue and thistle-tinted spots, phantasmal remnants of staring down the fulmination, you were at last able to truly cast your gaze upon your companion. Seething fury pooled around her, rage reflecting in the spark of her eyes. The shadow of a dozen wings played on the ground and in the canopy above you, shifting with each twist of the wind. Revulsion marred her features, the detestation eliciting a trace of contriteness deep within your chest. “Tell me why I shouldn’t smite you here and now.” The command was issued with all the potent magnificence of any Celestial, sparking trepidation deep within your soul. She towered over you, looming magnificence and vengeance mere moments from annihilation. Familiar blue danced in her eyes, a visceral reminder of how furious she truly was. But you had picked up on the plea within her decree. Shrouded beneath epochs of steadfast detachment was someone who felt so deeply, so thoroughly, that they had concealed themselves eons ago beneath a stern exterior, beneath a visage of a calculating strategist and general. The image was so strong, so consuming, she scarcely seemed aware of it herself sometimes. It was in those more intimate moments however when you began to read her, peering into the complexities of each mask she adorned. And in this moment, it was clear to see that beneath her fury, beneath her scorn, there was a searing pain in every movement she was making; more than all else, Raphael felt you had betrayed her, and that single sting of knowledge was more than sufficient for your gesture of surrender. "I'm sorry." Your placating tone did nothing to calm her, pulchritude somehow magnified through her scathing gaze. Encouraged by her lack of reply however, you took a cautious step forward, continuing your explanation. "I knew going to him would hurt you, and I still did it. You have every right to be pissed at me." "There are no words known to man in this world or the next to express-" There was a pause, a flicker of a scowl as she turned away from you, blue fading from her eyes as she surveyed the nearby trees. "You cut me deeply." Perhaps it was some remnant of stubborn indignation, or perhaps it was the inability to keep the passing thought contained, but Amara-help-you, the bite passed through your lips before you could restrain yourself. "At least the feeling's mutual." It was barely a breath, scarcely a coherent thought. Yet still she heard it, the words rippling through her wings as if she had been physically struck by them. Affronted gaze once more pinned you in place, the hairs along your nape rising in the face of thrumming electricity. "How dare you." She may have shouted or perhaps she had whispered; the hubris coating each syllable ate away at you, gnawing you in the ceaseless reminder that you were nothing compared to her. It was a logic that for years you had abided by, treading carefully alongside the ragtag collection of Hunters and Hosts, guarding your words and thoughts from Monsters and Malevolents alike. But much like the gods and goddesses of old, you had come to discover the immortals who walked the Earth were just as flawed as Humanity; you refused to display even a fraction of your fear in the face of her fury. "How dare I?" Memories assaulted you, vivid recollections of the hours spent raiding any literature you could find, the desperate summons to lesser Celestials, to Demons, to Pagans, to Fey, those excruciating evenings spent yearning for her presence, praying and cursing and crying into the darkest hours of the night. "How dare you!" Fervent prayers had proved useless, anxieties tying into fears and a dark web of self-doubt, eating away at your spirit. Desperation had left you precariously balanced on a precipice that surely would have damned you, had not one of the Archangels- the most unexpected- come to guide you back home. She had broken the oaths she made to you, disappearing from your side with no warning, no indications that she planned on returning. Having offered her your very soul, your every heartbeat, every inch of devotion- You had expected more care than what had been provided. Her touch had been so alien, her sweetest nothings oft hovering on the cusp of disturbing. But her love had been clear, her adoration shining as she watched you create, fondness blinding whenever you were lost in debate. She gave no indication of discontent, the warmongering visage that she brazenly wore crumbling to that of the Healer- curious, warm, and so full of life and light and hope and love that you could scarcely breathe around her. You had had no doubts of her affections, but her abandonment- Moisture stung your eyes, the yearning for those halcyon days depleting whatever pride you had been trying to maintain. Ferocity in your gaze, yet once more you turned to face her. "You abandoned me, Raphael." Your words sparked no form of reaction within her, nothing beyond the roiling rage radiating within her burnished orifices. "And still, you dared t-" "I did what I had to!" You spared her no mercy, once again stepping nearer, interrupting her condemnation before it could be truly vocalized. "We- I needed you." There was a flash of realization, so brief and sudden that had you not known her so well- not known by your own heartbeat the rhythm of her Grace, not known by memory the very slope of her eyes, not known by your very spirit the sensibilities within her- you surely would have missed the remorse reflecting in her eyes. "I needed you, Ra'phael. And you weren’t there.” The storm continued to rage all around you, fierce gale tossing loose twigs and leaves and rubbish from the nearest bins into a wall of relentless fury. Another flash of lightning electrified the air, the shadow of her wings nearly intimidating with their breadth. But you were long past the point of fear, beyond coercion. The very starlight that shimmered through her veins was as intimately familiar to you as the callouses on your own hands, and despite the severity of the storm around you- Not a drop of water had reached you, and only a few stray whispers of wind teased your eyelashes. For how angry you were, a sliver of hope embedded itself into your heart, a yearning to move past your own damnable pride now that you finally had her attention again. Her next words however, a low undercurrent of tension that echoed deep in your bones, forcefully smothered the flicker before it could fully begin to burn. “You forget your place, Oracle. I am not some pet,” she spat out, hauteur coating each syllable, grinding against your resolve. Raphael’s scowl, bitter expression coated in disdain, ate at your confidence, making you feel all that more insignificant in her presence. “I am the Wind and Skies. I am Majesty and Divinity; you are nothing more than an exiguous assemblage of quintessence.” The intensity of her proclamation- searing lightning, sharp tempest- wedged itself into your chest, corporeal reaction just as palpable as it would have been had she chosen instead to drive her halberd directly into your heart. This was not the being who had whispered stories of Creation into the pale hours of the morning, not the begrudging ally you had welcomed with equal wariness, the entity who you had come to see as so much more than a Primordial Agent of God. She used to smile for you, laughed with you. Aggrieved and enduring what felt a betrayal, your arms folded together in an attempt to shield yourself from further agony. Turning away from her, you nearly missed the transition in her expression, almost missed the pain in her own eyes. It was scarcely a flicker, but it was enough to give you pause, eyes narrowing in accusatory suspicion as she once more began to speak. “I have one final question for you, Oracle.” You had barely acknowledged her approach until she was standing right in front of you, wings folding away into their own stratum, features vulnerable in a way you had never seen before. She was fully unguarded, all traces of anger fallen from her frame, the crisp autumn air teasing loose strands of her hair. But it was her eyes- Timeless, boundless, beguiling in ways you could never even hope to describe- Her eyes drew you in, weaving into your curiousity, tugging so slightly at the tiniest shred of faith you had stubbornly clung to, hope having refused to retreat entirely. “How is it that someone so infinitesimal has so thoroughly ripped my plenary existence asunder?” Many of her English expressions were significantly outdated, but it was a rarity these days for her words to leave you completely befuddled. “What?” Her lips curled, a soft, achingly familiar smile creasing her features. There was a slight trace of mirth sparkling in her eyes, as well as some other unnamed emotion you didn’t dare wish for. You couldn’t look away even if you had longed to; the simple truth was that you were still spellbound by her presence, captivated by every motion. And that soft, gentle, affectionate smile- You hung your head in shame, desperately wishing you could cling to your anger, could somehow rid yourself of this depthless yearning. Her hand rose slowly, as if she were approaching a startled animal. The movement in your peripheral had you instinctively take a step back, once more studying the Archangel, now with far more confusion. “What it means, mi praevideat, is that I forgive you, and I apologise for departing without proper explanation.” Her words had only just reached you, spoken so softly that they nearly were lost to what remained of the breeze. You stared dumbly at her, doubting your own senses. It was inconceivable; Raphael was just as proud as her siblings, in many ways even more so. For her to be expressing any form of remorse- The light from one of the lanterns reflected in her eyes, the shifting shadows tugging you away from your suspicious rumination. You allowed yourself the diversion, taking a moment to study the eyes you had drowned in countless times before. Shifting axinite and bronze, and always that faint flicker of beryl- They were a cacophony of colour, ringing with a whole symphony of emotion. Doubt clung to you, your eyes narrowed as you tried to detect any insincerity from the Archangel. But her posture was tranquil, hands extended slightly from her sides in mimicry of a gesture you yourself had made thousands of times before. She was truly offering her atonement, truly regretted ever harming you. That simple asseveration was sufficient enough to pacify what had remained of your insecurities. Raphael sensed your crumbling barricades before you yourself could even begin to acknowledge them, meeting you directly, steering you safely into the harbour of her embrace. "I'm sorry," breathed tenderly against your temple, cautious fingers tracing new paths through your hair. You sighed, trying to continue grasping the threads of your anger, the fading traces of former anguish. But the memories were hazing away, all aching and suffering retreating under the Healer's tender supervision, adrenaline ebbing away with each breath. There was a moment when the atmosphere around you shifted, the cooled night air replaced with the glowing warmth of a candlelit room, torrential downpour replaced by the gentle medley of droplets against ancient windowpanes. Sometime in the hazy, blissful moments that followed, you had found yourself lying on a bed, the familiar hints of somnolence creeping ever closer. You had never dared to hope for anything beyond a few moments, had not dared to dream of the possibility you could weather the storm together. Your fingers drifted languidly across her back, pausing over each scar, every rise and fall of bone beneath her skin. You brushed aside stray feathers as you explored, giving into the inescapable smile at being bequeathed this vulnerability. An austere prayer of gratitude slipped past your subconscious, the smallest hint of praise to the most rebellious of Angels. You had to give the Devil his due; Lucifer still knew the exact words to prompt his kin into action. "It's highly impolite-" A drowsy voice interrupted your chain of thoughts, drawing your focus back to Raphael’s visage. Satisfied she had your attention, her eye closed once more, a small hint of bemusement coating her words. "-that you're thinking of my brother right now." Guilt summoned a wince from you, one you quickly shoved aside, favoring instead to fall once more to the empty space beside her, patient eyes taking in every crease, every pore, every millimetre of perfection to your beloved's physique. Surrender was a word neither of you would ever dare speak, but as you allowed yourself to relax in Raphael's embrace, your heavy eyes drifting gently over umber wings still sparkling with residual energy, you accepted the irrefutable truth of your circumstances. You had fallen irrevocably for an Archangel. And somewhere, only just piercing the cusps of whim and fancy, as you succumbed to the steady crescendo of slumber's sirenous strains, the lingering scents of cinnamon and petrichor drizzled softly on a breeze sighing: I love you, too. 

[lokisarmyfirstwarrior]

A new beginning

PROMPT: From underneath the thin layer of snow, the first bloom of springtime emerged. He resisted the temptation to crush it beneath his heel.

Word count: 932

Pairings: past KalixGabriel

Summary: Spring is said to be the perfect time for a new beginning. Gabriel thinks otherwise.

Tags:    @gabriel-monthly-challenge   @lacqueluster   @archangel-with-a-shotgun  @ashiewesker  @revwinchester  

A/N: This is a short story I´ve written for The Gabriel Monthly Challenge (finally). It´s for the march challenge(and i hope i can partcipate in the amazing giveaway) I hope you´ll like the story! (also, i hope i´ll be able to write something more in the setting of this story)

Somehow angels understood that being on earth isn´t that bad and they were regularly visiting it. Gabriel was one of the angels that left heaven long ago, but now he loved to come back occasionaly. He loved the moments in winter when he could snuggle in bed covered in at least three blankets. Or the endless snow fights with his brothers. The wild new year parties. And everpresent mistletoe that he always obliged and grabbed a kiss from the nearest interesting person. He loved autumn when he would kick the colourful leaves into the air and his dog would chase them. When the wind was particularly strong and would carry him for long distances without using much energy of his own. He loved flying over the earth in autumn, observing all the different landscapes. It was such a colourful season. He loved summer when he would lay on the grass on a field and watch clouds pass by. Or stars during night. He loved throwing his brothers into water, be it a pool or lake, and then running away from an angry angel. But now it was nearing that time of the year again and Gabriel wasn´t looking forward to it. People say that spring is time for a new beginning. While that might be true even in Gabe´s case, he surely didn´t enjoy the new beginnings he was receiving.

Gabe was looking down at earth as the snow began to fade. Lately, he did this often, because he just couldn´t bear his brothers´ endless arguments. Chuck let it up to them to sort out the conflicts, but both Michael and Lucifer were too stubborn to actually find a middle path. Gabriel was sick of it and so he found himself a quiet little place to watch people live their lives. He became more and more fascinated by his father`s creations. Once his brothers got too unbearable, he decide to leave heaven, It was not easy and he felt as if his heart were being ripped out of his chest. It pained him to leave his family, he loved them. But it was too much. Arguments turned into fist fights and even the slightest disagreement caused a storm. It was spring that time. The first new beginning happened during spring, how symbolic. When he realised that, already on earth, he started to bitterly laugh. And he laughed and laughed, until his voice became hoarse. He built a new identity. A trickster, a god, Loki. He loved it. He could do almost whatever he wanted and very few people tried to stop him.

He enjoyed his new life as a Trickster. He even found himslef a partner. A goddess, Kali. He never thought he was able to fall in love, to feel such strong emotions. Angels weren`t created to... feel. Maybe it was his time on earth that changed him so much. But when he met her, he was overwhelmed. Her dark skin, so beautiful in the dark red dress she wore that time, he was stunned. Her hair just perfectly curled at the ends and her eyes deep and full of various emotions. She looked almost fragile, so small, but when he held her in his arms, he could feel the powerful fire burning inside her. It was in those moments he realised she wasn`t the fragile human being he always perceived her as. She was Kali the Destroyer, powerful and beautiful. Maybe it was the bright fire in her eyes that drew him to her. And maybe it was because of the bright fire that their relationship was so passionate, yet short. They say the brighter the fire, the sooner it dies. It was spring that time. The snow was starting to disappear and the chirping of birds was getting louder. Gabriel was enjoying a view from a hill in Scandinavia, sitting under a huge tree, when Kali appeared near. He stood up, a smile curling his lips. His smile faded, though, right after he saw the seriousness in Kali´s eyes. He asked what´s wrong and Kali, a bit hesitantly, explained. A new beginning, without Kali, whom he came to love so dearly. Just like when they first met, Gabriel was stunned, he stared at the empty space long after Kali left. A long time passed while he stood there, unmoving. He was numb, no tears escaped his eyes. A storm came and went. He stood there, drenched, but he didn´t care as he relived all the memories he had with Kali. At first the memories were beautiful and warm, then they became colder and shifted back to last time he started anew. The memories of his brothers´ arguments flew through his mind and his knees went weak. After days he sunk to the ground, finally breaking, tears streaming down his face.

Gabriel thought he got over it pretty quickly. He built a wall of pranks and jokes around him, hiding his bitter self. He was happy again, making people pay for their sins. He felt like an angel and Trickster at the same time and it felt good. And not always it was something huge that made his spring a miserable time. Often it was just a lot of small things that happened all at once. Over the time, Gabriel developed a certain disgust for spring. Everybody seemed to love spring, the warmer days symbolising upcoming summer.

Gabriel despised of the season. And he couldn´t help, but feel the sudden urge to crush the first green plant emerging from beneath the snow crust as spring started to work it´s charms.

[blueboxphenomenon]

What ever happened with this? 

There was global news coverage right up until Harold Saxon’s “aliens” were supposed to make first contact, and then... Nothing. And he suddenly wasn’t the prime minister anymore. And US President A. C. Winters was gone as well. And nobody thinks that’s weird? Nobody ever talks about it, except for people saying Saxon went mad. That’s weird.

Were they both assassinated for trying to reveal the truth?