: 05/07/13 (Continuing with the trend of attempting to update profiles again. Everything should be up-to-date here except for the relationship sections. Need to add a few characters, as well as formally adopted family.)
Mood
: Bored, sociable -
Health
: Healthy
Thoughts
: Hmm.
Recently
: Relieved to know that his father has returned to the forest and to see his godmother in better health, keeping an eye out for both of them. Otherwise bored, experimenting with a new form after his encounter with a serpentine Osias.
~If you would like to roleplay with Angeal, you may do so here~
Arrogant / Bold / Calculating / Charismatic / Confident / Curious / Easygoing / Honest
Inquisitive / Intelligent / Laidback / Languid / Lives by his own morals / Otherworldly
Proud / Smooth / Vain / Values friends and family / Vindictive / Well mannered
Appearance
Angeal is a peculiar-looking creature. His coat is a rich lavender with only the simplest of spotting on his shoulders and hind legs. Other markings include a looping emblem along the length of his back that comes to a close near the tip of his fox-like tail. From an aerial perspective, it is smooth and symmetrical and resembles a stylized heart of sorts. His hide is also adorned with feathers, flight feather-like in nature and soft like duckling down. They rest upon his shoulders and on the top of his head.
The young adult is also very much the Red King's son. His front feet do not consist of hooves, but rather a palm and three jointed claws. With two dewclaws, they work much like human hands. Only his hind feet are split and even then he is odd-toed, having hooves with three cloves. He also has his father's eyes. They are a stark, almost ghostly white and are very sensitive to changes in light.
Much like his mother, Angeal was born with sharp, segmented horns. They have grown in well since his fawnhood and now serve as potentially deadly weapons. His blood is also toxic and may be harmful if ingested.
Angeal favors the first forest and may often be found near the forest's ruins. He also appears to have an affinity for dandelions and has taken to resting in their company.
All actions are in-character. Angeal does not represent his player.
Character design by Scythe. Images by Narina and Munkel, respectively. Coding by Sianna.
If you would like to speak with me for whatever reason, you may contact me privately via email or MSN. My Windows Live ID is delfincruzado@hotmail.com.
Angeal took a few steps forward, leaving the security of Kaoori's shadow. He forced the fear out of his eyes, so that they were now as cold and white as ice.
A bark of laughter escaped the shika's mouth. "It's a little late for that, isn't it, Walter? You involved me long ago. And now you're messing with my family again, you can't just pick and choose. Get out. Get out of my life."
Ah, thank you, Tuo. I had a ton of fun designing him way back when. His parents are so very different from one another; there were so many possibilities. I must admit that everyone else draws him better than I do, though. XD
(woops posting here to rp even if my laptop won't be back for a few days, I can type here just fine m'thinks and I don't want to wait for my laptop to be repaired to have mr.s pop in uwu hope you don't mind)
His bones ache with the heaviness of things waking from deep sleep.
It's a gradual transformation, from slumbering colossus to alert royalty, it starts with the shifting of moss, of dandelions who have stretched their roots deep within his body, he can feel them, bound 'round his ribs, creeping through the cracks in his bones.
He takes them into himself, into his red fur and flesh, his jaws cracking open in an exhale, dandelion seeds from deep within his lungs in a flurry of white escape his mouth.
Crickle crack. His bones shed the roots and the rot and the age of it all.
He isn't sorry, not in the way one might think a man should be sorry for leaving someone dear behind, he just doesn't have that mindset. he is however, in a beastial, proud way, excited, to see the things he considers 'his' again, the things that stir his illusion heart into fluttering like the wings of a wren he once held between his teeth.
His fingers flex into the soil for a moment.
He looks as he always has once again, red and white and glorious.
Muscles ripple under skin, bones break and re-form, and he is a bird. Like the ungodly offspring of a phoenix and a vulture, long necked, sleek crested, massive, long legged, with a wickedly hooked beak.
He spreads his wings to the forest sun, takes in the heat and the sunlight before taking flight.
He careens downwards only when milk pale eyes catch a flash of lavender, then, and only then, does he swoop downwards, so close that one gigantic wing stirs up pine needles.
He lands with the crunching of dead plants and the snapping of bone as he takes his form again, feathers fading from all but his ears and shoulders.
Silent.
For now, he is silent, merely looking with eyes as bright and ivory as pearls over his shoulder at the lavender prince.
(I don't mind at all. *bops* I've always loved your writing. If anything, it's a treat to have some of it on one of my profiles. So good to hear from you again, too.)
The lavender prince had finally managed to wriggle out of his most recent transformation, shedding the flying fox's leathery wings for four limbs and his peculiar claws. He rapped them on the soft earth of the first forest and exhaled quietly. Everything was once again in working order.
What was strange, however, was the heavy sound of flight, the passing shadow, the rushing, rustling of pine needles. The resulting gust of wind toyed with the feathers on his head and shoulders and he tucked his head towards his chest, eyes narrowed, but locked on the shifting form before him.
Silence.
His pale lips parted. His ghostly eyes, usually angled with arrogance, so full of confidence, widened with a childlike innocence. "...Father?"
His tail swept the ground, feather light and nothing clung to the sleekness of his fur.
The child had grown, as children are apt to do, and his narrow head bobbed slightly as he took in the sight of his son fully, all lavender fur, the teal of feathers. He did so resemble his mother, and his father, a lovely blend really.
"You've grown, in my rest" how strange to note the passage of time, how strange to take in the spinning of the world, like it mattered, like he was some mortal thing, a one night moth.
Time meant little. It was change that held meaning, nothing more.
"Into a fine young prince" he seemed pleased, proud, in his own way, in the way he held himself, tail just off the ground, head high, demanding respect with little more than posture.
A smile, tugged his lips up.
It was good to be back.
"A lot of things have in your absence," he returned quietly, letting go of the pressing questions, of the negative emotions that had at times stirred while his father slept. It was at that moment that he was reminded of how little of an effect time had on his father. He was still so crimson red, so lean and lithe, just as he had remembered him when he was young and new to the world.
Not just any prince. "The Red King's son." Angeal smiled subtly, Mr.Sanguine's words warming and working his otherwise sharp features. Too proud to embrace his father, he straightened himself in his presence instead. "You have been missed."
His lips strtched wider, showing ivory teeth, like a thousand shards of broken glass rows within his jaws. "Nothing less" he sat up upon his haunches, motioning with an ivory claw.
"Walk with me" he turned, his mass snaking amongst the first forest trees.
"things always change, in time, you too will come to see this unfold before your own eyes. How little time means to the endless" his feathery ears flicked at the warble of a bird.
There were a thousand things he could inquire about, and so, for a moment, he thought his questions over before at last speaking again.
So cute
♥ "Beautiful little
"Beautiful little son of mine. My lovely Lavender Prince. Angeal."
Awwh... very sweet, well if
*stamp*
Trackin'~
bebes.
d'aww. ♥
Track
♥
Oh my God, he's so gorgeous
*JUMPS IN HERE*
Ohhh, he's beautiful ;u;
Thank you so much, everyone.
His tracks would be very
Tracking.
Awh. ♥
GlobalBeauty: They most
Thank you both. ^^
;-; I love him so much he's
I'm glad that you think so.
Track of Euriea love.
That's the best kind of
I really have to start updating my profiles again. ;__;
"Think twice before you mock
"Think twice before you mock me, you little brat."
"Stay away from him, you
You've been told time and time again to stay away from my family. Don't make the mistake again."
She spit at his hooves. "Kitanai."
Angeal took a few steps
"I'm not scared of you..."
"Don't you worry, you'll know
Attention is drawn to the smaller female whom lurks beside the youngster. "I don't want you involved."
A bark of laughter escaped
"It's a little late for that, isn't it, Walter? You involved me long ago. And now you're messing with my family again, you can't just pick and choose. Get out. Get out of my life."
The doe sounded almost insane, panicky.
An overprotective growl soon
hnng I love the colors on
So prettyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
While I liked the original
ahhh the current image is so
Isn't it? Narina did a
she always does~ I need to
I need to fix up Mr.Sanguine's css so I can put his bio back into place...
/lazy
Most definitely agreed. I
I know the feeling. I'm only just getting around to updating CSS/profiles myself. |D
Track
Belated, but thank you. XD
I need to tell how much I
Well... A LOT. ;_; absolutely outstanding. <3
Ah, thank you, Tuo. I had a
I really love this guys
I still have yet to bump into any of your characters!!
<3
Thank you, too. I really do
One of these days! God knows I have a ton of them; it's only a matter of time. XD
Just gonna sneak through here
(No subject)
I know! It definitely should
There's like 50 of yours running around, lol!
Not quite that many, but
(woops posting here to rp
His bones ache with the heaviness of things waking from deep sleep.
It's a gradual transformation, from slumbering colossus to alert royalty, it starts with the shifting of moss, of dandelions who have stretched their roots deep within his body, he can feel them, bound 'round his ribs, creeping through the cracks in his bones.
He takes them into himself, into his red fur and flesh, his jaws cracking open in an exhale, dandelion seeds from deep within his lungs in a flurry of white escape his mouth.
Crickle crack. His bones shed the roots and the rot and the age of it all.
He isn't sorry, not in the way one might think a man should be sorry for leaving someone dear behind, he just doesn't have that mindset. he is however, in a beastial, proud way, excited, to see the things he considers 'his' again, the things that stir his illusion heart into fluttering like the wings of a wren he once held between his teeth.
His fingers flex into the soil for a moment.
He looks as he always has once again, red and white and glorious.
Muscles ripple under skin, bones break and re-form, and he is a bird. Like the ungodly offspring of a phoenix and a vulture, long necked, sleek crested, massive, long legged, with a wickedly hooked beak.
He spreads his wings to the forest sun, takes in the heat and the sunlight before taking flight.
He careens downwards only when milk pale eyes catch a flash of lavender, then, and only then, does he swoop downwards, so close that one gigantic wing stirs up pine needles.
He lands with the crunching of dead plants and the snapping of bone as he takes his form again, feathers fading from all but his ears and shoulders.
Silent.
For now, he is silent, merely looking with eyes as bright and ivory as pearls over his shoulder at the lavender prince.
(I don't mind at all. *bops*
The lavender prince had finally managed to wriggle out of his most recent transformation, shedding the flying fox's leathery wings for four limbs and his peculiar claws. He rapped them on the soft earth of the first forest and exhaled quietly. Everything was once again in working order.
What was strange, however, was the heavy sound of flight, the passing shadow, the rushing, rustling of pine needles. The resulting gust of wind toyed with the feathers on his head and shoulders and he tucked his head towards his chest, eyes narrowed, but locked on the shifting form before him.
Silence.
His pale lips parted. His ghostly eyes, usually angled with arrogance, so full of confidence, widened with a childlike innocence. "...Father?"
(abuh ;w; it's so good to be
His tail swept the ground, feather light and nothing clung to the sleekness of his fur.
The child had grown, as children are apt to do, and his narrow head bobbed slightly as he took in the sight of his son fully, all lavender fur, the teal of feathers. He did so resemble his mother, and his father, a lovely blend really.
"You've grown, in my rest" how strange to note the passage of time, how strange to take in the spinning of the world, like it mattered, like he was some mortal thing, a one night moth.
Time meant little. It was change that held meaning, nothing more.
"Into a fine young prince" he seemed pleased, proud, in his own way, in the way he held himself, tail just off the ground, head high, demanding respect with little more than posture.
A smile, tugged his lips up.
It was good to be back.
"A lot of things have in your
Not just any prince. "The Red King's son." Angeal smiled subtly, Mr.Sanguine's words warming and working his otherwise sharp features. Too proud to embrace his father, he straightened himself in his presence instead. "You have been missed."
His lips strtched wider,
"Walk with me" he turned, his mass snaking amongst the first forest trees.
"things always change, in time, you too will come to see this unfold before your own eyes. How little time means to the endless" his feathery ears flicked at the warble of a bird.
There were a thousand things he could inquire about, and so, for a moment, he thought his questions over before at last speaking again.
"How has life treated you? How is your mother?"