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I stood on the balcony watching him for a long while, yet another of the impoverished wanderers recently seen making their way aimlessly about Ashencrosse. A strange phenomena since Rosar took up prac ...

The messenger closed her fingers lightly over his hand and smiled. "You've well anticipated the reason I am here. For all you've endured, all you've actualized in spite of it, grace is once aga ...

Saint Michael.

Patron of humility, chivalry.

Patient. Merciful. Humanity's defender.

Mikhaeil lowered his head, a soft smile alighting upon his countenance. Was he truly fallen - or sent ...

http://i374.photobucket.com/albums/oo184/darkangelmik/ganangry.png

I knew change was inevitable, but this ... no, I never expected such as this. My intention was only that Agostino would be able t ...

An errant shadow angled across aristocratic features, perfection marred by sorrowful enlightenment. I unlocked the shackles with light touch, leaving them in place so as not to cause further disturba ...

Saint Christopher, patron of travelers.

Saint Michael, Archangel of Light.

Not everything that is lost can be regained. I understand that. The past cannot be undone, but tomorrow . . . there ...

I will never be able to enter that room again.

My hand burns from the memory of its grasp and the sickening sound of lash striking flesh.

Cries of pain and tears wrought of degradation.
...

Mikhaeil sat down in the ludus sand, the rising sun's rays radiating off its surface with unusual savagery. He closed his eyes against the painful glare only to discover a deeper agony flaring within ...

A small papyrus scroll left at the gypsy camp ...

Cezanne,

Apologies for my distractions during our conversation late last night. I can't remember everything we talked about or even where we we ...

Was a pleasure. Gratitude for being such a gracious host!

I closed the cell door with care not to awaken Agostino. His breathing remained deep, rhythmic, as I approached. He slept neither on the bedroll nor the hay, having chosen hardship over comfort by s ...

Everything changes. The iron weight of slavery's shackles courses molten straight to the soul. These were my words to Agostino last night, this my warning. True comprehension, however, is only atta ...

a solitary splash upon an angel's fingertip
glistens crystalline
beckoning steps toward the unapproachable.
where desire meets temptation
hell collides with heaven
consuming in gleeful strides. ...

Was fun attending on Mikhaeil who, as an angel, is essentially the embodiment of the subject of discussion and therefore rp'ly possessive of first hand knowledge in its regard. Smile

Where was she? "Xoriah," he whispered as he lay the diamond bracelet in the sand. "It was never the sword that bound us, but simply my heart. Freedom is nothing without you."