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harper woods

The streets were empty – partially because of the cold weather, but also because any human with a smidge of intelligence wouldn’t be out at this hour. Harper (who frankly doesn’t have a smidge of intelligence) strolled down the streets, head slightly buzzing from whatever drink she just downed. It was so cold that Harper could see her breath under the dim streetlight. Fuck the cold. Harper pondered on her hatred for the weather as she heard a shuffle come from the area behind her. At first, she thought nothing of it. It was probably just her buzzed brain talking, right? A few moments later, her ears picked up more shuffling and a bit of breathing, causing her to think that there really was someone following her.

“I’m not fucking dumb. I know someone’s here,” she stated for good measure, turning to face the seemingly empty street behind her. “If you’re here to kill me, at least let me know so I can get a head start on running.”

     By day Margalit was the consummate good samaritan. A rescuer of kittens and helper of little of ladies cross intersections. A holder of doors and a handful of change in homeless cans. In the bright light of the sun, the mundane problems of humanity felt so small, such tiny minutiae against the larger existential machine. Abecedaria was endearing, but she craved complexity with restless head and hands and feet that brought her through to sundown. At night she was at the beck and call of the precinct or she was on un-uniformed patrol of her own. Looking for trouble was strong and inaccurate, but she was looking for something. For everything. For opportunity and people praying in dark corners where they thought Heaven's light couldn't reach but hoped it might. For demon-monster-dragon-men-things she heard liked to rear up when one was alone. And yes, actually, also for trouble.

     The gray of West Hollow's side streets, buried between more important roads and the creeping shadow of late night, have a certain promise of danger. A lukewarm threat that drew Margalit's sentenial attention to the young human thing strolling along them. The angel followed. Of course she did. Hands in her pockets and unobtrusive only so long as she can stand the boredom of being a silent guardian. She makes noise, is called out. Oops.

     " Hi there. "   Margalit shook off covert like a heavy coat in a hot room and smiled lopsided, imitating the patois of these late night humans spat out by the local bars come closing time.   " Have you got an...mm... "  gosh, what was it her partner had been playing with earlier?  " iphone charger? "

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aubrey casteleyn:

”Is this really gonna- oh of course it’s going to work! This is gonna be hilarious,” Aubrey whispered to herself, shaking her head as she made her way over to the stranger. She would play this little prank she had planned all the time with Warren, and she particularly enjoyed it because it (usually) didn’t require any fairy magic. Aubrey politely tapped the stranger’s shoulder and before they could even turn around to face her, she excitedly gave the person a big hug, showing no concern for breaking their personal space bubble. God, their reaction was going to be so fun to see.

     She has to move quick with arms and ice cream crone to prevent disaster as a small projectile flings itself at her chest. Chocolate-vanilla soft serve spills over a little, dripping down the back of a hand held aloft to avoid a strangers sleeves and sweater and strange blonde head tucked practically beneath her chin.      " Hello. ”    Mild as a spring morning. A person would have to try a great deal harder before alarm entered Margalit’s mind.    “ You have the wrong person, I think? "

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nolan jules:

Nolan heard small whispers from interviews and contacts about new weapons being developed by the angels. Apparently a twin pairs of something, he hadn’t been able to get a specific answer, and honestly, it was more than a little worrying. It meant that if one of these almighty weapons slipped onto the streets of West Hollow, there was more than likely to be a blood bath between the demons defensives and the angels offensives. 

However, there was barely any time for that, as duty called. Today, he had been tasked with showing around a new recruit just graduated from The Academy, which was unusual to say the least. Graduation happened at the end of the year, and for a new officer to graduate anywhere near before then means that they are exceptional – someone born to be a police officer, honestly. Nolan didn’t know what to expect, maybe someone like himself? A muscle bound, iron-clad enforcer of justice? Or some brainiac who just happened to run track in High School? Or what if was one of the Chief’s family members? God, would that suck–

As the saccharine sweet voice slid his coffee over, Nolan looked up with surprise at the girl. Nolan looked between the beauty in front of him and the coffee she had just handed, processing her words. “Transf–I’m sorry, you’re the early graduate from the academy?” It wasn’t that women couldn’t be cops, the women in their cubicles around him more than proved that wrong, but someone so sweet and bright..Nolan shook his head, trying to steady his thoughts so as not to appear sexist. He stood, giving her a wide smile as he put his hand out to shake. “Yes, that’s me, ma’am. Officer Nolan Jules. Sorry for the less than warm reception, they didn’t tell me who they’d be sending my way…” he let out a nervous chuckle as he dropped her hand, coming from around his desk and grabbing the coffee. “You are?”

              She doesn't miss his brief verbal stumble, and she cocked her head like small smart sparrow, long fingers resting against the edge of the dest. But rather than befuddlement or offense painted gauzily across Margalit’s face, it was warm-soft amusement dancing merry-bright behind her eyes without so much as a twitch towards anything enigmatic despite her thoughts running back to her celestial instructor imparting his eons deep well of knowledge and her burning through centuries in days and yes!, she had indeed graduated early, so to speak. How funny.

              Her attention swung towards the hand he thrust out into the space between them and the flicker-brief glint of confusion on her face was a literal case of blink-and-you'd-miss it before she reminded herself that this was a human gesture ( a human greeting ) with the muted delight of an anthropologist finally putting studied culture into practice.    "It's nice to meet you."   Knee-meltingly sincere and accompanied by the enthusiastic clasp of his offered palm as this Nolan Jules, wide smiling and awkward, carves himself into her seashine soul with Margalit’s first ever handshake.

              " I'm Margalit. Ah...Officer Levine. "   Another phosphorescent flash of a smile; sweet pleased and confident despite her youth and looks and inexperience. Margalit may have been a new, green creature, but she was also far more than the sum of her temporal parts. The hand he freed joined her other, curled in around her own cup like seeking replacement warmth.  “ Still adjusting. ”

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          West Hallow PD seemed plenty curious but little impressed by their newest recruit; a slip of a golden haired girl who smiled as if unaware of how she fit (or rather did not fit; jarring and eliding into surroundings in a delicate assault) into setting. That damn smile of hers could've lit up a room. Steady, like a candle cupped in hand and widening to show white teeth whenever she made deliberate eye contact with her observers.

               Low hopes for her aside, the angel was happy, happy, happy; big heart brimming over by witnessing human beings (those creatures of free will driven by doubt and love and fear) coming to a place of worthy work despite all the pressures of choice and the harsh light of cynicism. The Gods created a world full of people, and amongst them were those radiant individuals who picked a path of protecting the innocent and wasn't that remarkable. Their problems were not yet hers, but she ached to take them on. Her hands are restless, eager to act as Purposeful tools.

              Those same hands were tucked round a pair of paper coffee cups as she navigated the flotsom jetsam of the office to the desk of Officer Nolan Jules. Roladex memory already full of names and face, she could picked him out even before the before the police chief pointed her across the room.      " Good morning. "    Bright, sunny as every other single thing about her. She followed it a moment later by sliding a coffee cup across his desk  -- a pre-preemptive token of gratitude, summed up by way of,   " I'm the transfer. The chief says you're to show me round? "

@followthenolan​​

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The Angels of West Hollow - Margalit, Leonardo, Zuriel, Adriel

@margxlit, @leoxngel, @zurielthewarrior

They are anonymous beings of light like so many radiant molecules doing their job in a well-oiled body acting at ease. But their body is the world, their skin domains of transverse communication, inside and out, distant and near, and they are the blue angels of Arthur Rimbaud, heraldic angels with black wings of César Vallejo, angelic aurora borealis sprites of Shelley shinnying up the purple shafts of night, and they are supernatural warriors of India on plains of fiery clouds riding fanatic horses steaming wide billows of green. Dead worlds vibrate when they arrive.    ( Daniel Abdal-Hayy Moore )

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If its danger you seek, come on over. I covet tranquility but beget the tempest storm.

Donna Lynn Hope (via 42paper)

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“I used to go to musicals every birthday - that was my birthday present. We’d go to London, me and my two brothers and mum and dad. I think I saw ‘Mamma Mia’ about five times.”

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Of course I’m a feminist. You shouldn’t have to censor yourself. I realized really early on in my career, especially because I’m young, that people will take advantage. I’m very open, and I stupidly thought that people would be open and fair with me, but they’re not. I sort of found out the hard way.

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K I N G D O M O F G O D { music for holy cities }

as requested by wizzard890

music for cities drawn from the blueprints of heaven; for theology wrought into stone; for structures; for labyrinthine cathedrals where lost souls come in order to be found; for scaffoldings holding up the flesh of belief itself.

DOWNLOAD | LISTEN

01 CONQUEST OF SPACES | woodkid { Stretched to the core of galaxies / Distorted city grids / By a black hole of vanity / Blossoms the age of greed / Beyond the laws of density / Towers of glass and steel / Temples and fragments of memories / Drifting away from me }

02 BREATH OF LIFE | florence + the machine { And although I wasn’t losing my mind / It was a chorus so sublime / But the room is so quiet, oh oh oh / I was looking for a breath of a life / A little touch of heavenly light / But all the choirs in my head sang, no oh oh oh }

03 DOWN THE BURNING ROPES | james vincent mcmorrow { Down the burning ropes / Past the places where the steal beams meet concrete skies / You make your bed under the moonlight / I think it’s time we said goodbye }

04 PIANO NOCTURNE | chopin

05 BOADICEA | enya

06 SHINES | hear hums

07 THE WORSHIP BELL | heathered pearls