Katrina, look away. She hates this picture. This is Metatron, though, the Voice of God, direct link between the Supernals and the Almighty. While he used to be a towering paragon of angelic virtue, long years of wear-and-tear from being the conduit of the holy spirit have left him little more than a mewling lunatic. He now lives in a clear glass tank that sustains his wasted, emaciated body, and speaks very little except when being inhabited by the Voice. That hasn't happened in about five hundred years, though. The other angels treat him with a mix of reverence and barely-concealed horror, and pretty much leave him alone in his tank, checking on him every two weeks or so.
By the way, if anyone shares my aesthetic and wants to know where I get any of these pictures, just ask. My peculiar web-trawling techniques find me a fair bit of excellent digital art, in the direction of which I'd be glad to point any of you.