Not an angel. A ChronoSapien predator who got cured by a man too dense to notice she came back for him.
Canon Uriel is a Throne, made by YHWH. This one is not a divine being at all — there is no Heaven here, no creator, no choir. She is a ChronoSapien. The word “angel” is in the species name and nowhere else.
The premise came from a simple question: what is cooler than an angel? Something that looks like an angel and has “angel” in its name and isn’t one. Not a fallen angel, not a rogue angel — those are still angels.
Before the cure she ran on a script. Hunt beings, take their temporal energy, turn them to stone or send them back in time. She was forced to feed on time, turned to stone whenever she was observed, and turned others to stone by touch.
Then she went hunting the wrong man, and instead of dying she got kidnapped, experimented on for four years, fixed, released with a cash settlement, and left with a working set of human emotions she never asked for.
images/variants/weeping-angel/ and they belong here.
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His treatment modified her immune system so it produced cells and hormones that break ChronoStone particles apart into two components. One got kept. One got flushed.
Without the ChronoStone particles making her feral, aggressive and hungry, she can feel guilt, remorse, and other human emotions. This is presented as a success. She does not entirely agree.
The Weeping Angel was already in a human body — which means she had absorbed someone to get it. That person was gone before he ever found her. There is nothing he can do about it, and he knows it.
A 240 IQ genius, privately wealthy, working alone. He had a copy of the Master’s Diary — lost by the Master, found by him — and he stumbled onto a ChronoSapien while walking home.
Emotions 🚫 • Intelligence 📈
He needs a copy of Emotions for Dummies. He has emotions. He simply cannot convey a single one of them, which she finds genuinely remarkable to watch.
She lasted six months outside. Then she missed him, and turned up at his door.
Four years trapped with a scientist who ran experiments on you and took your blood samples will give you mild Stockholm syndrome — even when you are technically the predator in the arrangement.
At the door, his first assumption was that she needed more cash. Then he realised: oh. It wasn’t cash.
Six years on, they have one child: Luciene. He couldn’t think of a species name for a hybrid, so he lazily labelled her a ChronoNephilim. The name itself is his too — he disliked that the Latin Lucien ends on an “n”, felt the word was incomplete, and added an extra “e”.