~~~~ This is my mental image of Gavin. Look down the right hand side --> ~~~~
Gavin groaned as his skull started to knit back together. It was a sharp cracking sound and ached something fierce. He blinked heavy eyelids open, confused and disoriented. He couldn't remember for a second why his body hurt or why his mind rang with alarm. Then he remembered the girl at the dance club, how he'd lured her in and enjoyed the night. And she'd been a plant to lure him outside to get jumped. The sex had probably not been in her original plan but she'd been more than willing when it came time for it.
And finally he remembered the little girl who's life he was supposed to save. Who may already be dead if the alarm in his spirit was any indication. Gavin didn't even wipe the blood off his skull before he started running, body moving unnaturally fast, hoping that his earthly pleasures hadn't cost a little girl her life.
The slut and her pimp had stripped off his combat boots and raided his pockets for all the cash. But he never noticed, mind giving him instinctive directions as he charged towards the fading life spark of a scared little girl. He was supposed to have been watching her, making sure that when everyone else abandoned her, she was never truely alone in danger. But he had failed her, she was supposed to only go under for a minute, a huge scare but not near death. Her friends were standing around the closed hot tub, tears staining their cheeks as they vainly struggled to open it, not strong enough to lift the heavy lid.
Gavin appeared to them as a fully luminous Guardian Angel. His skin glowed with an inner light, his power to call. It wasn't so much that he froze time, but instead moved himself in that moment, using up all his resources to give that little girl a second more, a chance to survive. He moved around the little girls and threw the lid back, revealing the floating body of Elonore. She wasn't screaming anymore, instead floating limply.
He grabbed her tiny form out of the water, carefully placing her on the ground. "Come on sweetie, don't do this to me." he pleaded and placed a hand on her chest. He sensed no heartbeat, felt no air stir her tiny breast. She was for all intents and purposes, dead. "No." he breathed, suddenly realizing his guilt. He had allowed this to happen to her.
"No. Not for this, not because of me." he whispered and reached out with his own soul's energy. A golden tendril reached out from his palm, sank through her skin and brushed her heart. He bent down and forced breath into her lungs, pushing again with his soul to restart her heart. Another series of breaths and another stroke of his soul. Still nothing. He could feel the efforts draining him down, stealing away his own essence as he tried to fix his mistake.
Tears rained down his cheeks and fell onto the little girl's face. She hadn't deserved to die, especially not alone. It was his fault and he wished nothing more than to save her. He was willing to give up anything to make her breath again, even his time in corporeal form. And with a tingle and a rush, he felt a great strength pour out of him, wrapped around her heart and massaged it back into beating. She coughed, water foaming out of her lungs as she cleared her chest.
"Shh.. shh shh.." he cooed to her, rocking her gently. "Easy there lovely, you're alright." he soothed, feeling her life settle back into her body. He felt the corporeal form he wore start to fade away, strength drifting off as his promise was fullfilled. He'd traded his physical form to save her life, and as she opened blood shot gray blue eyes to look at him, he would have gladly done it again.
She didn't say anything to him, instead she reached out shaking fingers and touched his face. She stared at him, as if to memorize his face. "Who are you?" she whispered, voce harsh from coughing.
"Don't talk honey. Just focus on breathing." he encouraged, stroking her face with his fingers. He couldn't see it, but his wings were no longer the beautiful, radiant white they once were, but instead a dusky black colour. A Guardian whom had failed.
"Who?" Elonore repeated, weak but insistent.
Gavin smiled at her spirit. "I'm your Guardian Angel sweety." he explained.
She opened wide eyes at him. "Oh." she started coughing again, chest sore.
"I need to go. Your friends are getting a parent and you're on your way to the hospital. Be more careful sweety. Even Guardian Angels can run a bit late." he joked and stepped away from her. It wasn't hard to dazzle her thoughts and make his presence a dream. He slipped out of that moment and Elonore's friends rushed over and fussed with her, unaware of how she'd managed to esacpe alive.
Gavin watched the little girl until he felt a Summoner approach him. The Summoner was a being that didn't operate in reality that humans could see. But it stood near Gavin, letting the last traces of Gavin's corporeal self fall away.
You're going to have to deal with the punishment. It warned him, voice neutral. They were uncorruptible, perfect police, rarely ever needed. And Gavin wasn't about to complain. He'd screwed up, big time. He'd let all the corrupting sins of the flesh lure him in and a little girl almost paid the price. He'd known that someday he might not come out of top, but it had never occured to him that an innocent might suffer in his place.
Take me there. I am guilty as charged and grateful that a Higher Authority stepped in to correct my error. Gavin submitted, ashamed. As the Summoner pulled Gavin out of the physical world to the incorporeal one, Gavin only briefly wondered what would happen to the child now.
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Elonore was in the back of an ambulance. There was a mask slid over her face and she felt so tired but they wouldn't let her sleep. Mrs. King was in the ambulance with Elonore, crying and holding her hand. She was gongi on and on over how sorry she was and how upset and that Elonore's mom was on her way to the hospital to meet them.
Elonore's mind wandered, running over the schedule her family kept to. Friday night meant her dad was out with his buddies, playing poker. Mom was at home, relaxing from a long week, letting dad get some adult time away from Elonore.
Little Elonore was drifting off, into a half sleep state. She'd felt something... weird happen earler. When her dream man came to save her. He'd done something.... she couldn't remember what but it'd changed her. She drifted, body shutting down into healing sleep and her mind wandered, leaving her body behind.
She followed a bright string on her heart. Chasing it down to find what tied her in such a fashion. It was a beautiful golden braid, and Elonore followed it a long and twisting route. As she crept closer, worry and panic washed over her, foreign and dirty. She saw her mom, driving quickly in the car. She was anxious and worried about her baby girl. She wiped a tear off her cheek and never saw the moving truck that she bashed into.
Elonore cried out, but lacked hte physical form to make a sound. She rushed in, not feeling the heat of the flames, the acrid burn of the smoke or the closeness of the crushed car. She knelt next to her mother's bleeding head and cried. Mama. she sobbed, trying to smooth the hair on her mother's head.
Elonore's mother opened her eyes. "Hey baby." She wheezed, eyes bright. "My little Lone. Los Lono." she sighed, her breath rattling out. Elonore watched as weird ethereal butterflies drifted out of her mother, some diving into her, some shooting off into the distance.
She felt the spirit trailers slam into her and she opened her physical eyes, back in hte ambulance. She started to sob and cry, unable to explain her experience while everyone worried. They took her to the hospital, hooked her up to I.V's and heart monitors, dressed her in a hospital gown and waited for her mother to arrive.
The entire hospital was abuzz with news of a terrible accident not far away. The ambulance was bringing in a corpse and a crash survivor. But Elonore wasn't aware of all the this fuss. Instead she had withdrawn from everyone around her, scared and confused. When she looked at people, she saw something around them, a vague sort of tint in the air of their personal space. It bothered her to have htem near her, letting their colours touch her like that. When the crash victims were brought in, it took a while for anyone to check the pockets of the woman's body. They found the woman's ID, Linda Priest, and contacted her next of kin. The call went through to the family answering machine and sat there, red light flashing while Elonore's father was out sleeping on a friend's couch after poker.
One curious nurse was trying to find any other way of contacting next of kin and found a worn picture of a litte girl in the wallet, recognizing the child as one that had come in earlier. So a clinically professional doctor informed Elonore that her mother was dead, killed instantly in a crash. They were all concerned when she didn't really respond to this news, just nodding her head like she already knew. It was late at night, or rather, very early in the morning and all the medical staff pegged her distant attitude for shock. Someone gave her a pill and a glass of water the help her sleep and Elonore drifted into slumber, mind trying to find comfort away from all the recent trauma.
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Gavin stood, shoulders slumped and wings dragging. He'd finally seen the change in his wing colour, a blatant indicator that he was a screw up, a failure and a bad Guardian Angel. He'd always walked the line before, staying just on the right side of things so he would get reprimanded but never be in too much trouble. But this time his carelessness had forced a little girl to experience something she was never meant to endure and a Higher Authority had taken it upon themselves to assist Gavin's attempt at resuscitation.
The Arc Angel Gabriel was the Higher Authority who had assisted, sacrificing a great part of his own power to help. It would return, in time, but for a long period afterwards, he would be weaker an vulnerable to attack. As one of the Warriors of Light, this was a big issue. Attacks from the Descended were infrequent but brutal, the devilish kindred were monstrous in battle.
In front of the small crowd was a delicate and tiny woman, features perfectly formed and stunningly beautiful. The Seraphim were always astonishing, the ideal of perfection. They never endured the confines of the flesh, were without corporeal form in fact and could thus evolve the spirit form without the influence of the human body. The Seraphim were the judges of this culture, though rarely needed. And this Seraphim was all too used to seeing Gavin brought in front of her, some complaint or another against him. Nothing serious, no, but he always denied the guilt. This time however, he readily and freely admitted his guilt but she was unable to guarantee that this wasn't another of his ploys.
You went to the club with the intention of attracting attention and distraction. She repeated his actions, looking from her seat to his bowed head. You found a willing partner and enjoyed their flesh. His actions were not forbidden, just discouraged. It was too easy to lose one's higher nature to the baser experiences of human kind. You had put enough thought into the matter to choose a location close by and giving yourself enough time to reach the child's side to assist even with your...distractions. The Seraphim admitted, taking each of his actions and weighing them, intent, effect, and results all standing for themselves. But due to unforseen circumstances, you were unable to fulfill your duties. Duties you would have been able to fulfill if you had not gone looking for entertainment.
Gavin stared down at his feet. He was not the type to blindly follow orders, and that had landed him the Guardian status. He was strong, he was fast, when he put himself into a task, it got done. Sometimes he had to step on a few toes, maybe bash out some teeth. The fact that he was willing to take these actions upon himself to save another gave him a place in this world. He was too independent to be a Warrior, he wasn't dedicated enough to be a Scholar, so Arc and Seraphim status were beyond him. He never had the desire to even try and be a Cherub, it wasn't in his nature to follow and the Guardian role just felt right to him. He'd learned to use his physical form for more than just pleasure seeking. The dyed hair, tattoos and piercings were all important to him, marking his progress and successes. Despite his unprofessional habits, he always got the job done and had often dealt with situations that others were confounded by. This was supposed to have been an easy job. It was simple, straightforward and any first time Guardian could have gotten it done.
You are accepting your guilt for these actions, a change from your normal approach to trouble. The Seraphim droned on, unaware that Gavin was ready for his punishment. Even with these charges looming over you, we feel that you are a valuble asset to us and may be redeemed. She announced to everyone's surprise. Arc Gabriel stiffened, offended that he would get off that easily, not wanting the young Guardian to believe that his actions were allowed. But we also feel that you are owing restitution to the Arc that came to your assistance. As such, we have decided that he may place your punishement, as long as it is within reason.
Gavin turned and looked at the respectably dressed Arc. In this incorporeal place, Gavin was less marked up his visage clear, skin perfect. He was still honey bronze, hair a soft brown and wings an unfortunate dusk black. His eyes were still bright however, green and blue they glowed, as he faced the Arc, ready to shoulder his responsibilities. The Arc himself was a much more imposing figure. Here your status allocated you a specific power signature. The Seraphim had many layers of wings, impractical in a world bound by physics but immensley useful here, The Arc had two different pairs that fluttered independantly. He wasn't physically larger, but even diminished in energym he glowed with power in a way Gavin could not hope to match.
Gabriel smiled, realizing he would get his own justice and the Guardian's would get to keep a useful if unprecedented member. You will be restricted from human form, and the energy you not assuming corproeal form collects will be gathered and set as auxiliary reserves for the Warriors. The Arc deemed appropriate.
Gavin just stared at him, resisting the utge to argue the point. His fascination with physical form is what landed him in trouble, so it made sense to ban him from it. But how was he supposed to do his duties without being able to affect the world around him? He opened his mouth to voice his objection but a heavy weight settled into him, sinking down into his spirit. It didn't hurt as there was no concept of pain in a spiritual form, but he felt closed off, like the world took a step to the left and he had to catch up somehow. They'd locked him out of the physical form.
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Time passed slowly for the Guardian after that. But it raced by in spurts for young Elonore. After her strange experiences in hte hot tub, she was never able to stop seeing the lights around people. Dcotors tested her and worried over her sanity, her mother was dead and her fatehr was grieving. He felt responsible that he hadn't been there to get the call, convinved that if he'd been around, he would have saved his wife. And part of him felt like it was his daughter's fault. She was smart enough to know better than to give in to peer pressure, had in fact gone without friends before and she should have told them to bugger off. Instead she went along to make friends and ended up in a stupid situation that cost her mother her life.
At first he barely spoke to Elonore, seeing her calm expressionless face drove him into rages. She didn't seem to care that her recklessness killed her mother. She didn't act normal afterwards either, instead she just watched people, as if studying a strange specimen. She also started to physically withdraw, not liking being close to others. He would try and talk to her, reach out to her and she'd pull out of reach. Which would make him so mad. He knew it wasn't right, hating his own daughter, wanting to lash out and make her understand how much he was hurting. So he'd try and calm hte urges with a beer, just a quick drink to settle his nerves.
As stress built up because he couldn't find a job and ended up on welfare, Elonore was going through physical changes her mother hadn't explained to her yet and his drinking got worse and worse, eventually he snapped, One night he'd had a beer too many and Elonore hadn't wanted a hug goodnight. She'd gotten into a fight at school that day, had bloody knuckles because of it and was acting sullen at being reprimanded for defending herself. Her dad just wanted to make her act like a normal little girl, just wanted his wife back to tell him everything was alright. So he slapped her across her cheek. It wasn't extreme violence but it stopped her cold, making her look scared. And he liked the release it gave him. So he grabbed her by the arms and shook her. He never yelled at her, instead he shook her, explaining how he needed her to be a normal little girl. How she wasn't right and her mother's death was her fault. He was drunk and stressed out and slapped her a few more times, but never too hard. He knew it wouldn't be right.
Elonore finally made it to bed after eleven. Her face was red and stung, tears burning tracks down her face and she bit her fist to keep from making noise. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed, afraid of making noise in case he felt her crying wasn't a normal response. She felt like she deserved to be treated this way, that it was her fault and she knew she wasn't like other people. She could see the colours of their intentions, could see the golden ropes stretching invisible to everyone else, connecting people together. That night the golden cord that stretched from her to her father frayed, no longer wonderful and pure.
Once the threshold of violence was crossed, Elonore's father found it easier and easier to cross it again. Elonore's own response to the violence was to try and make it stop by pleasing him. She acted like a perfect little girl, went out of her way to get straight A's, never spoke out of turn and pretended to be like all the other little girls around her. But that just seemed to make the violence worse. It wasn't her fault, but as she matured, Elonore started to look more and more like her mother, a painful reminder everyday at teh woman he had loved and lost.
Elonore bore the abuse, bruises on her body but never on her face. He never touched her face again after that first night of slaps. He couldn't bring himself to slap the face that looked so much like his lost love. But her body was beaten, bruised and scarred. He stomped on her, kicked her, pinched and punched. He pulled her hair, tripped her and one night even poured hot water down her. She never made friends with the students around her, after the sleep over, she never felt the need to try and reach out for people. Anytime she felt like it got to be too much, she'd remember her dream man's face. He had been bloody, tattooed and pierced. He had looked intimidating and feral and beautiful. And he had come for her, long past when anyone else would have bothered. He felt her worth saving. Doctor's all told her that the 'Guardian Angel' she had seen was a mental projection and not real, but she remembered the feel of his skin under her little fingers.
Even if she never saw him again, even if he wasn't real, just the thought of it was comforting. That there might be someone, somewhere that knew she was alive and wanted to keep her that way. So when the other students started calling her Looney Lone, she ignored it, never feeling a part of that group anyways. She may stand alone but she was never truely lonely. Because she could focus on the faint, almost nonexistant golden cord that tied her to....someone else. She never found out whom, but it was always there. And part of her childish heart believed it was her dream man at the other end.
Lone was sixteen when she stopped trying to make herself fit into the roles the others around her wanted. She liked doing well in class but it was easy for her, there was no challenge. Her classmates were not worth bothering on, they were all petty and vain and self centered. And she couldn't go home except to sleep. Coming home too early meant he'd be awake, drinking still, and it never mattered how she acted, he'd be angry. By the end of hte year, Lone had found a way to keep herself occupied but out of the way. She walked by one of the fitness classes bouncing around in front of a window and stopped. She had no desire to try the newest hot yogalate ballet class. But a little sign in hte window proclaimed themselves hiring part time, evening work.
Days later Elonore found herself working week nights from 5-9 and they offered to give her free access to any of hte classes she wanted to join. Lone worked at the gym through the rest of her school year, doubling her hours in the summer and going to any and eventually every class she could make it to. The class sizes were not too large, thirty people to one instructor, but her constant presence allowed the instructors a level of comfort with her. She watched and learned, often finding herself helping show hte shy students at the back of the classes.
As she got physically stronger, it occured to her that she could fight back. That the next time her father went into a drunken rage, she could hit him back. But when she came home the next time and her father started his low voiced rant against her, she felt weak and pathetic. Like it was useless to fight back because she deserved this. Her body may have gone from limpid and flabby to tightly muscled and hard, but her father still kicked and punched her. Her kickboxing training told her so many ways to avoid and deflect the assault and yet all she could do was curl up and protect herself.
Seeing her curled up and fearful before him gave him an almost overwhelming sense of power. "I hear you been spending time at a gym." he snarled, kicking her. He'd known she had a part time job because she gave him half her payychecks to help buy food or necessities. Useually he'd blow it on booze. But he'd never cared enough to ask what she did beyond reception work. He hadn't been watching her, seeing her body become strong and powerful. Instead he still saw his wife's face, on the body of someone else. Someone who thought they could fight back, the same someone who had taken her away.
That night he sat on her chest and strangled her until she blacked out. Her body fell limp, eyes rolled back into her head, nose bleeding. He panted and stood up, stumbling away from her. He stared down at her blankly, ashamed and invigorated as his body was aroused by the power he had over her. He stumbled back to the couch and collapsed, grabbing another beer to settle hinself down.
Eventually Lone's eyes fluttered open. She blinked seeing a ghostly face looking at her. It was him, her dream man. He looked no different than he had when she was younger, black ring through his eyebrow, piercing eyes staring at her frankly. It looked like he wanted to say something to her, but she couldn't hear anything beyond hte low sounds of snoring ang tv from her father.
It's just lack of air little girl, quit dreaming. She scolded herself and quietly rolled to her feet. She walked into her room and collapsed down onto the bed, bringing her fist to her mouth. She bit down on the scarred fist, muffling her sobs as she cried, horribly ashamed at her weakness.
Gavin watched her, wishing he had physical form to help her. Offer comfort and support. But he'd traded his physical arms to offer her another chance at life years ago. So he settled down beside her, tucking himself around her, protecting her even if she couldn't tell he was there.