Character being adapted: Tybalt Capulette
Link: http://159.65.241.122/index.php?threads/tybalt-capulétte.8222/
Notes: This AU does not take place on the Manta Carlos islands. Zombie apocalypse AU.
Name: Puriel
Current Common Name: Tybalt Capulétte
Age: Looks to be in his mid-twenties
Gender: Male
Species: Redeemed Seraphim
Profession: Angel of Judgement
Appearance Description:
Puriel 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. His frame is lithe and downright graceful looking int he purest sense of the word; slight shoulders, small waist, long and thin legs. He almost seems to float wherever he stands, and for good reason. His feet rarely, if ever, touch the ground. Puriel'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.
He’d be a little hard pressed to smile, and even then they somehow end up looking sarcastic even if they’re genuine. In fact, his expression is often stoic and severe, looking down upon everyone with a judgmental eye. It only softens a little when he comes across a pure soul, and that is a rarity in on itself. 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.
Rarely does one see his body. He is clothed in his six pure white wings; they wrap protectively around him as if it were some sort of feathered armor, impenetrable by mortal means. Sometimes you can catch a whisper of delicate, silken cloth fluttering from underneath the feathers, maybe a glint of metal, hinting at the fact that he might not be completely naked. Even his feet are covered by his wings and by all intents and purposes, his body is completely obscured. The wings themselves may look soft, but the feathers are as stiff and sharp as blades. When he's threatened, they move to defend him and he could easily use them as shields or swords.
He gives off a halo of light, a faint glow that surrounds him no matter how dark it may be, and it glows more intensely as he sorts the souls of all the dead.
Personality Description:
Puriel is far from the image many people would conjure when they think of an angel. He doesn't have a chime-like voice, nor is he gentle and merciful.
Instead, there's a reason why he was cast down from heaven many years ago and desperation from the heavens was the only way he found himself redeemed so quickly. He's fiery and pitiless, wrath and apathy having been his sins when he was first kicked out of heaven. He may have softened a little over his years on earth, but not by very much.
Puriel becomes angry easily and is especially standoffish towards souls that are tarnished in any way. His job is to judge, not to lead them on the right path, and so he will cast them down to hell without a second thought. He'd grown deaf to their pleas long ago. Seeing how humans have fallen has made him bitter and resentful. 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
On the other hand, those of pure souls will bring out how gentle he could be. He becomes kind and soft around those with white souls and will gladly take their hand and lead them to heaven. He'd seen enough of how humans can do ugly, terrible things and coming across a soul untarnished by any of that is refreshing for him.
As for the current plight of humans, he is apathetic. He will often repeat that his role is not to lead them onto the right path or bring them salvation, but to judge their souls when they die and give them their just reward.
Powers:
Puriel is a
redeemed seraphim. He had once fallen because God found him guilty of the sin of wrath, and so cast him down to earth so he may redeem himself. When the zombie virus spread and humans were dying in droves, he was redeemed to sort through the souls.
Wings: Puriel has six wings that are borderline blindingly white, and they look like they're made of the softest material. In reality they work as his sword and shield, hard and razor sharp around the edges. He often encases himself in them, floating just above the ground and obscuring his whole body. No mortal weapon can penetrate the outer feathers and one would be hard pressed to find a blade that's sharper. Underneath the wings and on his back, if a person can even get that close, you can see scars littering his otherwise perfect skin. They're a constant reminder of what he'd done in the past, even though all of his wings are intact now. The underside of his wings facing his body are actually quite soft, pillow-like and very much like angel wings that an average person would imagine.
Judgement: In line with his past position as an angel of judgement, Puriel 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. If he touches this light, he'll see brief glimpses of the crimes (or lack thereof) that they've committed. He can't influence these in any way, instead being an observer and using it as a tool to figure out whether the person deserves to go to heaven or hell.
Biography:
Pre-Apocalypse:
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.
Post-Apocalypse:
It looked like the dead were overflowing and heaven couldn't stem the flow of souls.
When the virus hit, people who had long been dead reanimated. Then they infected the living, and their souls fled their rotted bodies and left only shells. At first Puriel survived it by being resourceful, avoiding the most heavy-hit areas and keeping to himself. He didn't stay with any colonies, knowing that if the virus infected one of them, they'd all be doomed.
But as weeks dragged into months and the dead piled up, there was a call back to heaven. Dokiel, his former angelic partner, retrieved him from the mortal plane and brought him before God where, in an act of desperation, he was redeemed to 'clean up the mess', in a sense. His wings, once ragged and torn, were brought back to their former glory. He was tasked with remaining on earth, immune to the virus and the filth, to sort souls and guide them to wherever they needed to go.
And when he came back to earth, he did the job that he'd always been meant to do. He began to pluck them one by one, doing his job just as mercilessly as he'd done in the past. There were humans that came to him, begging for this to end, but that wasn't his purpose.
Many who saw him would describe him as a featureless pillar of light glowing on the horizon. There would be no doubt that he was an angel to those who saw him up close. Rarely did he go into the small colonies or villages that built up around the aftermath unless there was a lot of souls he needed to sort through.