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Vroid model support: Horun Onizuka
PNG model: Melwina17
Pixel 2D model: 0x4682B4

Art

Avatar: Loxtix
"Ending soon" and "offline" art: Fand
Banner art: Nemirene
Chibi in panels: Aikeji

STREAM ASSETS

Just chatting overlay: Akiirie
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GIF alerts: Tanporo
Stream avatars base: Aralies
Ble animation sketch: Fand
Cursor: Hant

TWITCH EMOTES

CapyHug: PuinessArt
Derp: Surennodelnorte
Deadge: Mambolina
Lick: MisieQson

7TV EMOTES

Glorp: DarkSona
jajel: Horun Onizuka
Bla base: Piffle
wtf base: Loumon
tap base: Loumon
L base: Loumon
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on wings of neon

written by: Erus Astéri

It started as just another delivery. The wind was whipping through my hair as I soared through auburn skies. Twin suns dipping below the horizon ahead of me, shining with fading radiance upon a world of marble and gold. My neon wings blazing like city lights amongst a night sky as they carried me at startling speeds towards my destination.I was to provide a message of middling importance to some kind of Seraphim. Something about tax returns or some other mundane crap. Don’t know. Wasn't listening! Too busy thinking about tonight’s races! Just couldn’t escape the thought of roaring engines, screeching tires, and the smell of petrol. Intoxicating stuff really. Literally! The fumes are poisonous, so it’s worth keeping those exhausts at an arm’s length. Wait, what do Angels need with tax retur-
My body slammed into the grandiose doorway at the base of the impossibly large watchtower. Dazed, I look up at the imposing sentinel I had inadvertently collided with. Its quartzite walls stretched skyward for an eternity. Don’t read too much into the architectural choices, Heaven’s full of things that don’t make sense. You try throwing together every ‘Good idea’ from the dawn of time ‘til the current day.Still reeling after coming to my concussive halt, sheepishly peering at where once was a door. There was in fact, still a door, however this time it was open. Rather notably, that epic entryway was now home to a particularly confused mass of rings, wings and eyes. You know, ‘BE NOT AFRAID’ type of deal. Anyway! I gave them their taxes and other regularly scheduled postage and was on my way. As I said, just another delivery.After finishing up the last of the day’s postal related exploits, I was yearning for the thrill of a street race. I could already feel the cold evening air against my pale skin, and I wasn’t even on a dark city street yet. I needed to unwind, and watching high octane action was the only thing on my mind.You may not know this (and I would be worried if you did) but I have a bit of a bad habit. Those street races I love watching oh so much? They’re not exactly standard practice beyond the big ol’ Pearly Gates. The Aeterim forbade any vehicles being used to race upon holy ground, which unlike mortal law enforcement, was able to actually be enforced. Also the whole ‘flying’ thing made cars kinda redundant. Anyway, so to indulge in my less than legal habits, I have been sneaking out of the land of the saints to watch cars go above the speed limit! Exciting!

You may be asking “Ewa, how do you escape Heaven? It’s supposed to be inescapable!” and to you I say: Please touch some grass. There is also quite literally a gateway that leads from the mortal realm to the great beyond. It’s called ‘Jacob’s Ladder’, and unlike most media interpretations that would make it out to be a grand stairway to Heaven, it is just a comically tall ladder. When your time comes, let’s just hope you didn’t skip out on cardio! Me? I didn’t skip cardio when I was alive. I never was. Despite my oozing charisma and unending wit, I never had the chance to show the world what I was worth. I’m an Aeterim through and through. Though I will say that not having to climb this unendingly long ladder to ascend postmortem was probably for the best, since I’m only 157cm. Get your laughs out now. I’m short. Get over it.The wonderful thing about the land of the saints is that you are never far from anything. Literally. It operates outside of the bounds of physics. You’re rarely more than 15 minutes away from anything, anywhere at any time. No, it does not make sense. Unfortunately, it is just one of those things you have to see to believe, and gosh it seems I forgot my camera.I made it to Jacob’s ladder in a timely quarter of an hour. How punctual of me! Less than ideally, as I attempted to step past the Pearly Gates and beyond the podium of Saint Peter, I was stopped by a mass of eyes much like the Seraphim from earlier. I was caught. Not ideal, but the perks of being born post-mortality means that I am beyond mortal punishment! Woo!The Archangel spoke in a tongue that is imperceptible to the human psyche, but the general gist was that I was in big trouble. I’d kinda guessed that, since I’d been caught forsaking heavenly law, but here we are getting talked down to by an amorphous creature made of at least 50% eyeball. It spoke for a looooong time. Something something grave consequences, huge repercussions and… letting me watch the cars race? That can’t be right. Wasn’t he just saying he was punishing me?He continued his celestial rambling, telling me that I was permitted to watch the races each night so long as I had finished my deliveries first. Another caveat he decided to impose towards the end of his angelic monologue was that I must act as a guardian angel to those who are involved in the races. He made a pretty big emphasis on this part, but it was something I’d been doing anyway, so this added ‘act of atonement’ was a little unnecessary.Without another word the mass of eyes ascended beyond my perception. I will not be explaining that, this is another ‘you gotta see it to believe it’ thing. I really wish I’d chosen to tell my story through a more visual medium, but hindsight is 20/20!The screeching of burnt out tires filled my ears like a siren’s song, luring me to the place where my stresses would fall away. My eyes closed for a moment, savouring the last moments of unpolluted air before my descent. Before my eyes could reopen, a rushing sensation enveloped me. An assault on my senses, disorienting me wholly, and leaving me feeling nauseous. A flash of light, and I was no longer within the boundaries of Heaven’s glory.I opened my eyes, expecting to have tripped and fallen from the Pearly Gates to the mortal realm below (it’s a mistake you only make once. Trust me.), but was instead greeted to the cool, hard pavement below my feet.

No longer were there grassy verges breaching a sea of ivory clouds, but the concrete jungle I had grown accustomed to. A cityscape where all but the tallest buildings were obscured by its bustling skyline, and blazing neon signs shedded their artificial radiance in place of the moon’s natural brilliance. It was not most people’s taste. Very dull and grey yet still garish and blinding. That didn’t matter, I was home. The place I belonged.
Whatever that seraphim had done had saved me the climb down a thousand odd miles of ladder. Thank the stars. After the relief finished washing over me, I noticed the specifics of the building ahead of me. It was a shop of some description. Couldn’t really see in this late since the lights were off, but I felt a strange sense of familiarity. A sticky note was pinned to the centre of the front entranceway. Pinning it was an interesting idea, given the fact it’s already got an adhesive, but I digress. It read:Good Evening Aeterim Ewa,
Welcome to your new home. This retro store is all yours. We’ve been aware of your less than virtuous actions as of recent, but are aware of the stellar performance you exhibit in your current role. Consider this a promotion.
Welcome to your new abode, Guardian Angel.
Signed, ❍︎♓︎🙵♋︎♏︎◆︎⬧︎
P.S You delivered me the wrong post earlier this evening. My taxes are yet to be filed :(”This store is mine? I don’t even have 13 years of history in retail! However shall I cope!?!” is what I imagine any hiring managers reading this are probably thinking. I can’t say I know what I’ll do, nor can I tell you exactly what a ‘retro store’ is, but I’m sure I can figure it out. Heck, I’m sure I can just look it up somewhere. I walked through the already unlocked door (safety hazard that, it’s a miracle no one broke in) and found it already bedecked with the contents of my apartment from the great beyond. My artwork covered every available space upon walls of vibrant pastel blues and pinks, with a pop of purple. An array of stands lay within the centre of that main room covered in vinyls, CDs, clothing and every other niche object that angel could think to manifest... How very me!Looking past the racks and counters that lined the shop floor, an open door beckoned me beyond its threshold. Stepping into the darkness and ascending a flight of stairs (thankfully much shorter than Jacob’s Ladder) I was greeted by a cozily decorated apartment. Plenty of blues, purples and pinks as to be expected, with even more of my previous artwork inlaid directly into the walls. It had three rooms, each mostly catered towards function over fashion, but I’d have plenty of time to make it my own.I began walking back down the stairs, in hopes that I’d be able to rest somewhere in my new saleroom, when something caught my eye. A Jet black Toyota Supra MK3. It’s body sleek in its ebon glory, with a smooth gradient matching the walls of this very building. Marked with a white chequered flag and cherry blossom decal, it was beautiful. A truly magnificent mechanical marvel. You can tell it’s good because I used alliteration. Goodness, I’m so good at this narrating thing.Nestled in the furthest corners of the room was a large L-shaped sofa, which had made itself home to a small white capybara with (deceptively) delicate wings of neon light. That’s Tofu, they’re my roomie heavenside, and it would appear they decided they’d follow me to my new place. Can’t say I mind, sometimes having a tiny ghost to perform some spectral antics can be a laugh. I cross the room and lay upon my new plush throne alongside my furry familiar (not like that, you weirdo).This was my chance to live amongst the living, and have a life of my own. I wasn’t going to waste this chance. I couldn’t afford to-
The sounds of tires screeching and engines blazing cut my planned soliloquy a touch short, but there’s all the more opportunity for that emotional exposition later. Now? I’ve got a street race to watch over.