(no subject)

[angelictango]

*and -- like most of his cousins and siblings -- enters by wing (the wings happen to be, while only a little larger than average, quite lovely, white and tipped with gold of the sort that can only be properly seen if you're looking closely), and lands carefully but with fairly practiced ease, taking barely a moment to orient himself to the ground again* *he's nineteen, a little taller than average, slim, wearing the obligatory flying leathers, and full of suppressed energy, with dazzlingly bright blue eyes that are scanning the room to take in his surroundings and dark blond curls -- he'll shake his head to push them back from his face and then give a half-bow to whomever may happen to be passing by (at this point, the onlooker may note the sapphire-and-gold bracelets encircling his wrists)*

Bethuel. *and grins, with undeniable charm* From the Eyrie.

Typist: The last Gabriel/Rachelspawn, I swear.