Name: Puriel
Current Common Name: Tybalt Capulétte
Age: Looks to be in his mid-twenties
Birthday: ???
Gender: Male
Category: Civilian
Occupation: Police Officer
Appearance Description:
Tybalt is, by and large, not a very intimidating looking man. He isn’t exactly tall, standing at a rather average 5’10” (117.8cm), and is built rather lightly without much extra muscle to speak of. Of course he has to remain fit for his job, but he looks like the kind who would run a marathon rather than wrestle a hardened criminal to the ground with his bare hands. He has a rather bad habit of slouching whenever he’s sitting, making him look even smaller. Tybalt’s hair is blond, falling into a rather choppy and rarely maintained cut with his bangs always covering his right eye. His eyes are a bright blue, but he has slight partial heterochromia in his right, which is the entire reason why he keeps it covered. He just thinks it looks odd, though he’d show it off if someone asked.
Tybalt is usually seen with a cigarette clenched between his teeth, lit more often than not, and with a haze of blue smoke swirling around his head. Of course, the tension from his job means he’s often chomping on it rather than having it rest casually, and his face is fixed in a permanent semi-scowl that is occasionally broken by a look of exasperation. He’d be a little hard pressed to smile, and even then they somehow end up looking sarcastic even if they’re genuine. He’s got a bit of scruff growing, though he makes sure to shave so it doesn’t grow too wild. It wouldn’t be any good for his public image if he didn’t, after all. Despite his grumpy looks, the one feature people always seem to ask him about no matter what, and what birthed his nickname, are his eyebrows. They have a very, very distinct curl to them, looping upwards.
His clothes often vary, though he often adamantly refuses to wear the standard issue uniform. He dressed nicely anyways, often in a starched white collar and suit, or in more ruffled clothes from higher end stores. Tybalt is rather conscious of how he displays himself in public and even his hair, though it looks almost like he just got out of bed, is combed to just the way he likes it. His hands are often stuffed in his pockets, clutching either a lighter or a book of matches.
There would be very little that Tybalt seeks to hide. His back, however, would be one of those rare things. He would rarely, if ever, take off his shirt in public because of how much of a mess it was. Scars crisscross the expanse of skin with sections that look like they had been torn clean off. It also doesn’t take a keen eye to see subtle shifting right underneath, muscles moving in ways that human muscles definitely aren’t supposed to.
Personality Description:
Some people could be compared handily to overactive, friendly puppies. For Tybalt, it could be said that he’s fitting to be the prince of all cats. He tends to stalk around rather proudly, and has a bad habit of snapping at anyone who happens to talk to him in a wrong way, whatever ‘wrong’ happens to be. He isn’t inherently mean, but his short temper and a sway towards being a little more knee jerk in his reactions makes him come off as more vicious than he actually is. Gentle is rarely his first reaction to something, and he’d tackle a man with a knife to the ground before he sees the cake, so to speak. It’s great in some ways for his work, as his gut reaction will often deliver him to safety. When it doesn’t, however, he’s in often in deeper trouble than your average, thought-out joe.
But just because he’s hasty, doesn’t mean he’s illogical. He thinks things very thoroughly when he calms down, often creating elaborate scenarios in his head for every little reaction or situation. When he’s sat down to plan out a mission or a job, he will work every path through and figure out all the nuances before he even thinks about going in. Panic and adrenaline is his kryptonite, and if he hasn’t thought a dangerous scenario out beforehand, he certainly won’t be playing the logic card when it stares him in the face and instead go with whatever hits him first.
Tybalt is an excellent actor, however. He can burst into hysterics on command, complete with actual tears. He can laugh convincingly even if something is killing him inside. He can even imitate voices with fair accuracy. Once upon a time, he’d been an actor, and the skill has come in handy more often than not. His name used to be out there, so people who realize how good he is at imitation often grow wary of how truthful he’s actually being.
Though gruff in demeanor and a little too trigger happy for his superiors to be entirely comfortable with, Tybalt can actually be very caring… In an angry sort of way. He’s very defensive over the ones he cares about; he says he’s more than willing to fight for someone he loves, but realistically speaking, he’s the one instigating the fight for some reason or another over a perceived slight towards the other person. But hey, at least he’s loyal; it usually takes a whole lot of kicking for him to finally realize a relationship is bad for him.
Speaking of relationships, Tybalt grows infatuated rather easily. It’s one of the reasons he always dresses so nicely; he likes to walk out the door like he would meet his soulmate that day, and always takes some pride in being well groomed. His one slightly off coloured eye and overly curly eyebrows are a small sore point for him, as he thinks they make him look odd and less than his best. Tybalt just falls a little in love with a lot of people he meets, and he’s well aware of it. He does a whole lot of kissing, among other things.
Tybalt is very expressive in a variety of ways, but aside from his job as a cop, he could say he’s also very in love with painting, drawing and singing. He has a small studio in his apartment, and it’s filled to the brim with paints, blank canvases, sketchbooks and incomplete works. He sings whenever it’s quiet and over years of private practice, he’s grown very good at it. He does like to keep the singing part to himself, though, and won’t do so when he knows he’s being watched or listened to. He doesn’t mind showing off paintings and such.
Powers:
“For if God did not spare angels when they sinned, but cast them into hell and committed them to chains of gloomy darkness to be kept until the judgment ..."
Tybalt is a fallen seraphim. His true name is “Puriel”, and he was once tasked with judging and examining the souls that ascended to heaven.
Wings: It doesn’t take a keen eye to spot the subtle movements on his back, like twitching muscles that no human anatomy chart would match up to. The horrible, mangled scarring hints that something used to be there. In truth, Tybalt still has wings… Sort of. They are broken shadows of what they used to be, twisted and mocking their past grandeur. Seraphim typically have six wings, but only five actually remain, one of them having been torn clean off. What remains of them are hidden beneath his skin, ready to rip through at a moment’s notice.
Judgement: In line with his past position as an angel of judgement, Tybalt has the ability to see how ‘good’ or ‘bad’ a person’s soul is. The soul appears to him like a glow between a person’s collarbones; the dimmer the light is, the worse the soul. However, his job isn’t to lead a person to the right path, so he rarely talks about it if ever.
Biography:
As time stretched on, decades started representing smaller and smaller portions of his life.
Puriel has no biological parents, no childhood and no other purpose. He was just brought into being and given his job: to weigh the souls of those ascending to heaven. Puriel could have been described very well as fiery and pitiless in what he did. His job wasn’t to show compassion, or lead people onto the right path. He was no modern day angel with a halo and a chime-like voice.
And he did very well. As humanity chugged along, the souls continued to flutter up to heaven where they were weighed by him, then allowed into heaven, cast down to hell or made to suffer waiting in limbo.
But perhaps over time he became a little too fiery. He grew exhausted of seeing the same crimes over and over again, the distinct lack of kindness as souls floated up to him in droves during times of war and strife. His judgements became harsher, turning everything black and white. He had little patience for the same sins over and over, though he was extra kind to the souls who proved themselves to be good.
So Puriel was guilty of the sin of wrath. As such, he was cast down from heaven onto the mortal plane, where he was given the chance to redeem himself or be forever stranded. His wings, once his shields, armour and mode of transportation, were badly injured on the way down. He keeps them tucked away just under his skin out of shame.
When he landed, he took on a royal name and mannerisms, blending in with humans. Is ultimate goal remains to redeem himself and ascend back to heaven, though he knows he must be patient.
Additional Information:
Tybalt really likes swings. He’ll occasionally swing in empty parks, flapping his wings when he knows he isn’t being watched.
