Who’s that Girl? (lalalalalalalalalalalala)


Who’s that angel girl?  This is a question that some have asked during and after the release of Strange Clouds, A Melanated Fantasy Joint, Book I on April 7th.  We were supposed to have a brief intermission after reading the first chapter to discuss the live image that “The Illest Strator” Kevlen Goodner was drawing throughout the evening.  During the break, I ended up signing books.  The line was was so long that I didn’t finish my set.  Although that is a good problem to have, I didn’t want my readers to think that I had forgotten about them.  So, with all of that said…


Seraphima is a twelve-year-old part seraphim, part indigenous human hybrid– born and raised in captivity.  She has six wings – a massive set on her back that she flies with, a pair on her feet that she glides with, and two on the back of her head that she covers her face with.  Dozens of tiny braids swirl and cross each other to create the glorious Flower of Life mandala at the crown of her head. Two sideburn braids with hundreds of citrine crystals strung on them, hang long and disappear beneath her weighted teleportation cloak.  Her cloak makes transportation from point A to point B as simple as 1-2-3.  She has the complexion of bronze and the eyes of flames.

Seraphima has never known life outside of The School of Understanding Self, also known as The School of US for short. There, curriculums are determined by the gifts and abilities of each individual. Oftentimes, this means that a student could find himself or herself sharing classes with those with similar studies or abilities.

Seraphima feels unfortunate to have to share most of the same classes with The Goon Squad, which is a mixture of half-breed cliques that she feels no kindred with. They consist of mythical creatures, such as; the sirens or hyper-sexualized mermaids with webbed feet and hands, instead of the lower fish extremities often sensationalized in popular fairytales and the heartbreakers or nephilims, beautiful giants and the male off springs of fallen angels and humans that are irresistible to look at and nearly impossible to survive their gaze.

Seraphima hates her life and her forced confinement behind those great walls and affluent living.  She could very easily leave, but where would she go?  She knew of and has no one.  She has no family, no friends, and no God.  That’s right…no God.  Most would consider an atheist angel to be an oxymoron, but the concept of God, to Seraphima, is just as ludicrous as the concept of the wild and free to a lion in a zoo.

In her eyes, there is truly no escape for her.  She took notice that students with more human features were adopted with ease.  But, who in their right mind would adopt a child that could summon demons to damn his or her soul during a mere temper tantrum?

Although, the Silver Saber is the only weapon powerful enough to grant her her wish of mortality, Seraphima only has the heart to temporarily relieve her emotional and mental agony through cutting, however, unbeknownst to her, she’s carved dozens of ancient mystical sigils no longer written or orated into her forearm.

She often finds herself fantasizing about what it would be like to live a normal life. She often imagines her father to be the powerful Archangel Michael and her mother to have been a young unspoiled maiden that watches over and protects her and others from the emotional brew that simmers within her. With the abilities to summon and command principalities and powers, Seraphima would trade it all to just be…seen.