#saolveritas

[indyflanery]

It started out faint, his pupils began to glow a shade of white with his blue hues becoming more pristine. However, he was too busy admiring his human's features while he cupped a warm cheek. Thumb circling softly, he was able for now to ignore that call back to duty. For now, with him being so lost he could easily slip away with no warning to Indy.

It was hard to ignore when he was looking right at his angel. That other-worldly glow. While at first, he didn’t understand what that change meant, Indy had come to recognize and be frustrated by it. His expression turned sad. “Please don’t go. Not yet.”

[indyflanery]

The angel ends up in Indy's home in the middle of the night. Curiously looking around he ends up finding to remote for the television where he accidentally turns on a late night softcore porno up extremely loud.

Indy had been quite happily asleep for hours at that point. It had been a long day and he was tired, so he couldn't be held responsible for the dreams he was having. They weren't exactly innocent ones about the being who looked after him. A small groan escaped his lips as he shifted in bed  with the images flashing behind closed eyelids. Ones his subconscious mind was enjoying until he was jolted awake by noisy moans, panting and kind of tacky music.

Blinking blearily as he tried to calm his racing heart, the young man's blue eyes swung to the TV in the corner of his room. Which was on. To something that had  not been on when he went to bed. "Th' fuck?" he slurred before he tried to find the remote to turn the screen dark again. Indy frowned at his nightstand where the remote wasn't before looking around in confusion until his eyes landed on the angel with bright wings watching the screen curiously.

"It's the middle of the night," he whined, flopping back onto his bed. "What are you doing watchign porn in my bedtoom?"

[indyflanery]

Heavenly Companion

Looking back toward his home, Indy frowned and childishly stuck his tongue out at where his father's study was. He probably wasn't even aware his son had left the residence and was intent on playing in the woods or down by the water for a while. But ever since they'd moved out to the middle of nowhere because his father wanted to write another book, Indy had been bored. It wasn't the same as back in New Jersey where his friends still were. And his dog; he missed Indiana. The boy was upset when their pet couldn't come with him when they traveled for his father's lectures, but he'd coped. Now that his mother was gone, his father didn't think having the dog around was proper. Indy still hadn't forgiven him for that. It was worse because he had very few friends here, and not for lack of trying.

Indy was friendly and outgoing, but his ability to attract trouble was a deterrent for parents. Once they found out about it, contact with his peers seemed to lessen. It was a lonely way to grow up. That rift between father and son, moving all over the place, and his penchant for involving other people in his adventures made a huge difference in his young life. But at least there was someone he knew that was always around.

The angel had only appeared to him that first time because he nearly fell through thin ice and froze to death. One second he was pitching forward,  the next a pair of arms were wrapped around his waist hauling him back to land, and a heavily accented voice was chiding him about being more careful. That was when he first met his guardian angel.

Connor didn't show himself often because, according to him, most angels were supposed to keep watch and give gentle nudges here and there. Indy, on the other hand, required special attention. The being with the golden wings would keep him company for hours on end when he did show up, and he would patiently let Indy talk about anything he wanted, answering every question he was given. It was unfortunate, though, that Connor couldn't always be physically by his side even though he was always caring for Indy in some sense. The angel was a better friend than anyone could hope for, and it was sad that he had a better relationship with someone who could be considered as imaginary than his own father.

Picking up a stick, he waved it about a bit, smacking at pine cones and loose branches, dragging it along a ways as he walked before soon abandoning it without thought. He dropped down at the base of a tree to sit with his legs crossed under him, clenched fists propping up his forehead. It didn't take very long for another presence to make itself known next to him, rustling feathers being the only accompanying sound before a voice spoke.

"He still loves ye, ye know?"

The boy looked up to see Connor crouched next to him with a kind smile on his face. Despite the fact that he knew his guardian meant well, Indy still wasn't pleased. And he said as much. To which the angel simply sat down next to him with a sympathetic noise. The two were quiet for a few minutes while Indy kicked a furrow into the soft dirt, and the angel simply watched him. Thankfully, his frustration didn't last too long with his companion by his side. 

A nudge was given to the angel's arm, even though there hadn't been too much physical contact between the two of them. It didn't even occur to Indy that it could be taboo to touch a creature of heaven. He was a child with an innocent mind. "Do you want to come with me down to the water? It''ll be more fun than sitting here," he suggested with a smile. 

The boy was very glad he had  his angel. He wasn't sure what his life would be like if he didn't have him, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know. 

[thebrokenmarionette-archive]

The Sculptor's Angel

The workshop thrummed with the vibrancy of life as a young woman fluttered about. For well over three years Veata lost herself in the fading light of evening to this private niche unknown to even her blood and in that duration of time it had become entirely her own. Neatly laid out across the tables were various half-finished crafts composed of every which material and her tools separated by craft. Here a blind cat purred as she laid to rest on the windowsill, her gears clicking with each breath that she took, and there a songbird sang a rasped tune as aged as the music sheets of his feathers. These were the works that failed to meet the same quality as that of her brothers -- the cat's walk too much of a clicked stutter and the bird's voice more scratch than smooth notes -- but in this safe haven they fell perfectly into place. 

Veata paused to scratch the mechanical feline, affectionately named Gear, under her chin with a smile. Her gift had been discovered nearly two years before that of her brothers' and for so long her family had held high hopes for what she might come to be. In those months even her flawed creations had been praised, each oddity chalked down to a product of her youth and inexperience. It hadn't been until Kosal and Rithisak had come into their gifts, one shared by their blood, had the suspicions that the early appearance of her talent had not been foretelling of a protegee arose. Even their first creations had been far more beautiful than anything she had ever given life to in those two years. She could still remember how the patrons had praised her brothers' work each in turn even as others questioned softly the young girl that hurried in their steps with a clay rabbit limping in her wake.

Child she had been she had never been ignorant to the whispers that followed her every work in later years. People had thought her slow because she could not bring to life creations of even standard quality. Those words had always struck a chord in her youth and the pity of her brothers as they attempted to lighten her spirits with beautiful offerings had only worsened the sting, but their mother had always taught her composure and with sweet smiles she'd endured each remark until she became numb. Less and less often Veata brought forward one of her creations to the appraising eye of her family until she'd all but vanished from their shared workshop. They thought she'd given up the craft but the truth could not be farther from that -- she still wanted for nothing more than to create something as beautiful as the works of her brother but she felt more at ease in a space that did not brim with the perfection she could not achieve.

The twenty-year-old female glanced to the largest table set center in the room with an excited skip of the heart masked beneath a simply content aura. For three years Veata had given her life to the painstaking creation of her angel but it was on this morning that he was complete. Rithisak would have taken only half a year and Kosal five months but experience had proven the brothers more than capable. She, on the other hand, had been determined each detail perfected no matter how little and that had required time, dedication, and patience. Even his feathers -- she had spent hours studying the wings of hundreds of species -- had each been individually shaped. He was an unnamed secret of many but perhaps one of her most cherished. 

Gear stretched against the windowsill and moved to follow after her with a clicked pounce as she left in favor of delicately tracing his cheekbones. It had been difficult to steal away to shape this nameless angel from clay and fire between her hours of schoolwork and social obligations demanding her appearance but she was glad all the same she'd taken so long. In a test of her talents she had chosen not to model him after any one figure and had elected instead to make him entirely his own. The product was something that easily matched even her father's: a strong jawline with a face purposefully etched with signs of age, a defined nose set above at perfect proportions his mouth, skin smoothed and his brow so carefully carved. She prayed for blue eyes but knew that the traits of his coloring would be out of her hand.

"What do you think, Gear?" Veata mused as the cat leapt up to linger on the edge of the table. Blind as she was she knew the layout of the workshop as well as she and knew that laid inches from her whirring paws was a creation of love and time. "Is he ready to quicken yet?" Her nameless angel had become her source of comfort even before his awakening. Countless times she'd lost herself to hours of his craft and forgot of those snickers of laughter from cruel classmates and the morseful pities of friends. He'd become less goal and as much safe haven as her private shop. Here she could be reminded that no one knew of him but herself and it became easier then -- he was hers and only hers. Even if he developed a damning flaw as the others did here he was already perfect and no one would ever have to know but her.

Her fingertips glanced over the carved wisps of hair that lingered at his forehead that would soon become soft to the touch. Nothing would ever change that he was forged of clay but he'd have a heartbeat of his own and a warmth running through his body so similar to the thrum of blood: this was her gift. At his feet Gear chirped an agreement and she smiled softly as the feline leapt off of the table as if she knew what was to come next. Her eyes followed as she bound up to her perch before they fell back to her angel. There was nervousness now beneath the excitement and the atmosphere had taken on a building edge that made her heart skip a beat. She'd done this a thousand times before but...Veata swallowed around the lump in her throat and with a breath leaned down to utter into his skin the words of quickening -- the first he would ever hear -- that would be forgotten to him even as he awoke for the first time in his life.

[indyflanery]

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[indyflanery]

"They're coming."

"But that means you have to go…It’s never turned out well when it looks like I’m talking to myself."

[fuckin-believer]

"Between ye an' me, I t'ink rope s'very useful. Makes sense ta have it." The winged being says with certain after randomly revealing himself to Connor.

"W'at 've always said, man," he nodded, smiling, "Ye 'nd me seems t'ave a brain in common."

[indyflanery]

As usually Life swooped in out of no where, manifesting himself a few feet from Indy. When their distance was closed he placed a plush kiss to the human's lips. "I 'ave missed ye dearly."

He hadn’t been any kind of interesting day at all, so when the angel appeared out of nowhere, he actually jumped. But then he was being given a soft kiss in greeting, and Indy almost literally  threw himself into Connor’s embrace. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been worried.”