He wants to laugh, possibly, but finds the moment gone before it’s ripened to a healthy crimson. The Leviathan remains stoic, neutral, and horribly unchanging though the lingering darkness that stems from The Void swirls around him, kisses the horizon of his manifested flesh. There is nothing reflected in those dark, dark eyes, but he is interested. For once, there is one who actively sought him out that might be deserving of the meeting.
Though he is relatively bored with the question, unnecessarily repeated. Heaven and angel are such blase concepts, even to one who only knows of them offhandedly. But to explain The Void or the oceans that flow through his veins— that is nothing simple, and he doesn’t put it beyond this Castiel unable to comprehend.
”Some basic etymology might suffice for you. Outsider is synonymous with stranger. Foreigner. Perhaps it would be easier to consider me your Prometheus. Or their Prometheus.”
He wonders then if the angel would enact upon the threat he’d so readily offered, a noise without sound. The action would certainly serve to amuse; it’d been an eon since another had attempted to cross the threshold he watched the world through.
“But my gift is not fire.”
Even with Heaven in turmoil, the divine feels holy fire surging through his
veins even here amongst the darkest shadows. Any threat presented would
be met with the same deadly response that he could offer up above, on the
surface. So long as he breathes will the energy course through him and this
strange being poses no threat to his newly reforged self. Contained to a
vessel or not, Castiel’s power is immense.
“It’s not of import – where you have come from, all that
matters to me now is why you are here.” Stormy azures watch
the writing black mass almost with a look of disgust, the darkness feels to
him as if it’s befouling the air around it and even in the pits of hell there’s
never been such a stained feeling lingering around and attaching to his
earthly body.
“You are claiming to be a titan?” Literal as always and old as
he is there is much knowledge stored within him, he answers quickly
and a few steps move him soundlessly through the muggy obsidian haze
shrouding them both now. “Another god? Why have you come
now when the Apocalypse has ended.” The reassuring
cool touch of heavenly blessed steel washes over his calloused palm as an
angel blade slides down the tan sleeve and into view now. It’s one of the only
things that can kill an angel and well, just about everything else.
Demons, Angels, and Gods alike fear the blades of heaven.
“It’s not necessary to fight here, your kind has not shown
in years and we’ve ignored you – so long as you are no
threat to the humans you will be left alone.” A threat for a threat,
now as the once renegade angel starts to slowly circle the tainted god
before him and making sure to raise the steel high enough to be in plain
view even though he’s sure the Outsider has considered it already.
she wasn’t in the mood to be helpful, the only time she did feel philanthropic was when she donned a suit and it was required of her, but without the fallacy of a superhero she regarded most things as nuisances; fleeting faces to an immortal who couldn’t possibly archive them all.
” what you lookin’ fer? “
“A map?” No doubt something the angel has heard of, yet
such a suggestion fails to help him in this particular scenario
– Castiel knows exactly where he is, no map will aid him; what
he needs is guidance and there’s nothing to be found on any map
for him. A low exhale follows and both hands are shoved deep
into worn pockets of the battered trench coat draped over his
contained form. “——– Purpose. I am unsure what to
do, now.” Spoken as if she’s filled in on the whole missing God
dilemma, the seraph forgets he’s in the presence of a human, not
it wasn’t so much that he was looking in her direction, logan was used to lingering glances, but his gaze was uncomfortable in the way that he seemed to be looking through her; within her.
it wasn’t a place that she wanted to shed light to.
“I am… lost—-” As if an angel could really be lost, but with God having
forsaken him and being cut off from heaven the statement is very close to the
truth. Aged well beyond the vessel he currently inhabited, Castiel is adept at
reading others, even without being tethered to the full power available to a son
of the Lord. Tired eyes wash over the woman, her defensive posture and the
aggressive attitude – it’s easy for him to see deep into the windows of her soul,
without effort even. “My apologies. I did not mean to upset you.”
