gnxwedbones:

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.

gnxwedbones:

The creature’s presence is felt long before a flutter of feathers, unsightly wings, a vibration that he can taste with the current of the stale air. He is not visible, not to any human eye— though he cannot remain in synchrony with the shadows if they’d betray him. The Outsider unveils himself fully, tendrils of black smoke and bloodied eyes, lets the darkness fade, appearing as he would to a man who can’t seem to look in the mirror.

His arms are crossed, and he just barely touches the stone floor, observing his counterpart in the withering gifts of sunlight. A curious being, one that is not human, but touches upon the precipice; one that emanates an aura of light unto the cesspool of eyes that do not reflect the motion.

    “They seem endeared to calling me The Outsider, so for comfort’s sake, so should you.”

But he does not know this creature, though he can feel the ethereal vibrations that exude from the centerfold of his chest. He is intrigued.

     “But I suppose you haven’t heard the stories,” he says with that same sardonic edge to his voice- he is not relying on ego nor the simple justification of it; he merely speaks the truth of his perception. There’s a slight tilt of the head- he wonders, somewhere beneath the waves, if the gift of esoteric palavar is something that his counterpart can comprehend.

    “All the same, I can’t say that I know you— but you seem familiar.”

   There’s no fear of the darkness within an angel of the lord, the light is

never lost and now almost curious eyes catch sight of the presence he’s

been sent to investigate. Something fully unknown to heaven —-

there’s a new one, nothing before has trumped the divine, but here he

is; the first angelic son to arrive. On stares the occupied vessel, face

set in stone and a moments consideration is given to the stranger. Even

here, in this foreign and dark place faith in the higher power remains

unshaken. “The Outsider.” Bland, monotone, the celestial warrior

repeats the shadow’s offered name.

   One step, the sole of a shoe planting on the ground without sound,

distance between the enlightened and the corrupted closes. A classic

for the ages, the millennium old titanic power struggle between good and

evil —— angels and demons. “Comfort has not brought me

here.” Speaking matter-of-factly, as always he’s one for business tones.

Many of his brothers often toy with those they converse with, even going

as far as attempting to emulate human functionality. Not he, there is nothing

in those borrowed eyes of his, the body containing his immaculate form is

but a filter for those too weak to bare witness to his true visage. The raw

and untamed inferno of heavenly fire that shines bright even in the most

blackened places.

   “You are not of Heaven, nor are you human —- yet

you call yourself ‘Outsider’?” Questions the angel, watching

the swirling darkness before him that seems to almost circle around the

stranger. “I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord and I will not

ask again – What are you?”Now looming in the air is a threat,

one that will be backed by a vicious smiting; the avenging wrath of heaven.

Hallowed be his name and by God’s will he will strike.

  A sword of the garrison he has always been, even with doubt pressing

down heavily on his mind with the questionable orders coming down

from what is claimed to be his father. Still obedient,though, Castiel does

what is commanded of him and all rebellion against Heaven aside there’s

nothing filling him except for unwavering loyalty to the father who bore him

and reincarnated him even after the unforgivable things he’s done.

   “What are you?” A flutter of feathers sounds, well beaten shoes click

against the stone floor, and he approaches slowly. Sent to intervene with this

strange presence; something Heaven is unfamiliar with and it’s been ordered

of him to sniff out the oddity. ——– it is not often an angel is uneasy.