Virgil was in the boat looking over at the water. He felt a hand on his shoulder and found that the owner of it was Patton, which made him feel a little better. They were both looking out at the water knowing that, by no choice if their own, they would soon be swimming in it with plenty of equipment.
Patton has always looked up to the older angels that have had their wings for many many years. You see, in the environment he grew up in, the children inherently had big kind hearts and they would do whatever they could to make the world a better place seemingly as a human. Once they were old enough and did enough good, all they would need was the sound of a nearby bell for them to retrieve their wings and continue their work with Heaven as their main home and their deeds done while they're unseen by the humans.
Warnings: death, nude corpse, psych ward, drugs, referenced gore, sexual references
Includes: reincarnation, a referenced anxiety attack, death
Virgil enjoyed writing ever since he was a teenager. Looking back at his works, it was easy for him to acknowledge that he was trying too hard to be edgy and that there were improvements in his work that were needed ever since he took enough college classes worthy of an English major. He considered keeping his writing as a hobby since he realized there weren't too many jobs he could get without the risk of sensory overload or being on the ecstasy end of the Yerkes–Dodson curve. However, while scrolling through Tumblr, he came across something that almost made him believe something must've been watching him from above: There were posts about a website where he could post his stories and poetry and earn a profit. It would start as a small income due to a small audience, but being a YouTuber had a similar start. After looking over the website for extra certainty, he decided on a pen name (Richard Wenso), made a profile picture that didn't connect to him, included other bits of information, and that wasn't all he wrote.
Virgil knew that what he was doing would get him nowhere, but it was a habit that he couldn't cease so easily. He was already fond of poetry, but it wasn't until Roman pestered him that he proceeded to write poetry for his love. Unfortunately, from what Virgil had witnessed, his love thought Roman was the lovestruck wordsmith. Not only that, judging by Virgil's constant gagging, his love didn't seem to provide the emotional outcome he was hoping for.