hadriel | video;

Entry tags:

video;

Um... I'm Castiel. Some of you know me, obviously. I sometimes show myself at the clinic--I'm a healer. Well. [ He looks down into his lap. ] I try to be. The ailment that so badly hit us last month was beyond my ability to remedy, and for that I am deeply sorry.

However if there is anything, any scrape, any...broken leg, or incurable sickness... I should be able to resolve it. Should be. Given the state of my powers here, it does seem to be a game of chance. But I have healed far worse in the past. It's better, surely, to let me try than to live with pain and scarring when I might help with both.

But that isn't what I was here to say, not really. I wanted to... I want to...

I haven't been very clear, and I feel that it's important, given the way things were, and the way things will likely be again. I hear you, all of you, when you turn to prayer. It's impossible to avoid, and while I understand that it is private... I just wanted to apologize, either way.

[ ooc: Castiel doesn't hear all character's prayers since you can opt out of that on his permissions post, however! It's a fun way to make new CR with him if you're interested; just drop him a prayer in his IC inbox! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Of course. What can I - I hope - do for you?

I have been badly hurt and it is not healing. I'm afraid I'm not sure what is the matter. It has always healed before. Perhaps there is something you can do.

Perhaps there is. Where can I meet you? Can you move?

I am able to walk. The clinic would be the best location to meet.

The clinic then, I will be there shortly.

[ Armand knows the city well enough by now to not get lost on his way to the clinic. It's a good thing too, because while he can move there is a limp in his step. He uses the wall to shamble inside the clinic, keeping his sense about him, hoping he will be able to feel this person's presence before he meets him face to face. Some paranoid habits die hard.

The skin on his face and hand are a mess of scars and it looks saggy, like the flesh could fall off at any moment if it were given a good shake. He seems to take care not to touch either as he looks around. ]

Are you here, sir?

[ Castiel isn't there. At least not until he's called, at which point Armand will almost certainly feel a presence, the soft whisper of feathers cutting through the air a whisper of a warning as Castiel alights in the furthest corner of the room. It's more like teleportation than anything else, but the murmur of wings suggests wings, even if they are - by and large - invisible.

But this is a vampire. Castiel can tell at once, and he tips his head minutely, the blue of his eyes belying his curiosity. He looks dreadful, truly, which means he must feel just as bad. ]

There's no need to call me "Sir." You didn't mention what you were.

[ Armand's gut reaction when he hears the rustling of feathers is that perhaps he has made a huge mistake. He has twice now been up against powers he doesn't fully understand and it looks like this individual is one of such creatures. He clutches at his elbows in what is an almost childish gesture, shrinking on himself a little. ]

If that is what you wish.

[ He pauses, feeling more than a little alarmed. He could tell from the tone of this stranger's voice that he could be hinting at only one thing. His Dark Gift. Armand rather not mention it for a variety of reasons, but now the secret had been plucked from him. There was no reason to play coy. ]

I did not think it relevant.

It's fine. Things are different here. It's just that...as you aren't sure if my powers will work on you, neither am I.

[ Which disappointed him no end. He was supposed to be able to help the people who asked for it, and even if Armand wasn't human, he was still a resident of the cave, and had still asked for his help. He owed him something, at least, but he wasn't even sure where to begin.

He couldn't tell what was making this creature so weak, so helpless. He'd start with what was obvious: ]

Have you eaten, recently?

[ Armand's heart sank. There had to be a way to fix this damage. He was not prepared to live through his afterlife as a shambling corpse like figure. ]

Please say you will at least try.

[ He stiffened visibly. How to explain to someone the code he lived by. How he slipped up and tried to take an innocent and now he is paying for it dearly. ]

No, I have not. No one is suitable. No one is an Evil Do-er.

I will, of course, try. We are in this together; all of us, of all ilk, and what we might have been to each other were we in our own worlds is irrelevant now.

[ The words were enough to get the point across. The vampire was starving. ]

You will not feed on anyone else, or you can not?

[ It could be a curse, he supposed. ]

Come. Sit, before you fall. I won't hurt you.

Then you mean we would have been natural enemies in your world?

[ Was he a hunter? He knew him for what he was the moment he walked in. This was a man who knew what to look for. All the little signs. ]

I will not. I made a grievous error in breaking my code. Now I am paying for it.

[ Armand hesitates for a moment, before sitting. He hunched over, watching Castiel with interest. ]

How will you do it? The healing.

You are a descendant of Eve, cursed by her gifts; a vampire. Angels are the guardians of mankind, and protecting mankind means destroying those who would feed upon them.

[ He lowered his eyes, and then knelt in front of him, looking darkly up at him, a kind of dark intent. He had no intention of harming him, even so. ]

I will lay on my hands, touch you with my grace.

Have you broken your code before? What were the results?

[ That's a lot to absorb. Armand stares, slightly slack jawed. This was a new origin story for him, one that is Biblical and all the more tantalizing than the story of Akasha. But that isn't what's important here. What is important is the fact this man is insinuating that he is a living, breathing angel ]

You are an angel?

[ He sounds hoarse, but there's a definite hungry quality to his words. His eyes are filled with reverence. If Castiel was use to vampires despising angels, he would find quite the opposite with Armand. ]

I need proof of this. Show it to me.

No, my sire taught me better than that. Nothing would happen except a bloated conscience.

A seraph; the angel Castiel.

[ He's quiet for a moment, considering the request. And as he does, he looks Armand in the eye from his new position. He's seen that look before. There's no fear or anger there. It is the look of someone who wants something to believe in. ]

What sort of proof would satisfy you? A miracle? An illusion? God does not give proof, and I am an agent of Heaven. Perhaps you must make a choice, as to whether or not faith will suffice.

[ He offered his hand toward the vampire's cheek. ]

[ OOC: Let me know if/how much you'd like Cas to heal him! ]

Castiel.

[ He repeats the name fervently. He wants to reach out and touch him, but resists the urge. Like always when confronted with the overwhelming evidence of God he has the mad desire to cast himself in to flames. ]

I have wavered in faith, I will confess.

[ He pauses. ]

I have seen the Veil of Veronica. I was unsure if it was a trick of some old demon, but I believed it was real in the moment. I want to witness undeniable proof of His divinity. Can you give that?

(OOC: Heal him all up, please! :>)

We'll see.

[ This vampire wasn't like the others that Castiel had met. That was a recurring theme, here, which was why he hadn't outright judged him like he might have anywhere else, with any other creature. He could certainly build on reverence, and if Dean had made an exception for him, then why couldn't Castiel, for a vampire?

He curled all but two fingers in toward his palm, and then placed them against Armand's cheek, just behind his eye, back toward his ear. It was gentle, and behind it came Castiel's grace--soft, warm, divine, healing the vampire's wounds, returning him to health. He said nothing, as the soft blue light shone, waiting to be done. It would only take a moment. He'd wait for the vampire himself to judge his work.

His hand fell away, his eyes questioning. ]

[ Armand let his eyes fall shut as Castiel's hand touched his face. It was a tense moment as he waited for the effects to take place. As soon as they were activated, he instantly relaxed. An odd sensation of feeling warm and safe washed over him. He hadn't felt that way for over five hundred years. Not since being the care of his Master. The flesh on his face and arm knit back together, becoming whole again.

He cracked open his eyes. Tears started pooling in them, blood tinted and hideous compared to the divinity that just happened to him. He lifted an arm and felt his cheek. Perfect and solid. There would not even be a scar.

Armand got to his feet, raising himself up on his tip toes and kissed Castiel on the forehead. He hoped he didn't have to explain how he was feeling. It was overwhelming. ]

[ Castiel had healed people before. He was used to it, that moment after healing when relief and joy, emotion surged in the person he'd healed. It wasn't unexpected now, either, even from a vampire. After all, he had been made whole again once, and not quite known what to feel about it, overjoyed or frightened--at least in that moment, he had had a purpose to fulfill, and it buoyed him.

Even possessed, he had healed the sick and the dying, the blind. He remembered most of it. He had healed more people with monsters crawling under his skin than he had as a free angel. That had upset him.

So he was making a difference as best he could now, at this clinic, with this small group of survivors. It was always a relief when his magic worked.

But this gratitude surprised even him. It rarely stretched to such assumed intimacy. There had been the demon, Meg, but her feelings toward him had been something else entirely... Demons were twisted like that. He knew that this was simply honest thanks. ]

Have you faith now? Do you need more?

[ After the elation of been graced with God's servant had passed Armand felt the stab of despair that often came with his encounters with the life beyond. He felt dirty and unworthy. How could he have asked for something such as this? All of his crimes, his abhorrent behaviour. It tortured him in this moment.

He thought back to centuries ago when he was just a boy, thirteen or fourteen perhaps. How he was such a gifted painter that the residence of Kiev Rus claimed that his paintings were 'not made by human hands'. He had been ready to bury himself in the ground with the monks in the underground monastery, only taking food and water to keep himself alive all the while painting in God's glory. It would have been a life completely dedicated to Him. He would have had it if not for his father who was vain and jealously guarded his son.

Armand felt it was important that Castiel know this. He opened his Mind Gift and sent the images and thoughts forward. There was nothing he had wanted more in mortal life. ]

That is enough.

[ He let his blood tears roll down his face. He was looking at Castiel with adoration and awe. How could he live with himself knowing this was a reality in some distant universe? ]

Please tell me. Would I be forgiven?

[ Castiel's expression softened. He closed his eyes, and accepted what was offered, because it was given so freely, so willingly, and with such an undercurrent of misery and desperation. He couldn't give the vampire the answer he craved, and yet, when he opened his eyes and looked at him, crying, he felt pity even so. ]

I cannot tell you. Our worlds are different enough. In mine, I can tell you that all vampires, and your kin, werewolves, wendigo, djinn--your spirits cannot reach Heaven. They are confined in Purgatory, to consume each other, as they did in life, until the end of time.

But for you, God may be more willing. I cannot speak for Him, for His wrath or for His mercy, for He never gave me any.

[ He paused, fell quiet. The vampire had been honest with him, and even if it shook his faith... No, this was strong, unshaking and desperate. ]

I can't tell you what my Father would say. There are some days, considering the things that I have seen him allow, the harm and the misery, that I wonder if I understood Him at all. I sought Him out, once...

[ He shook his head. ]

Perhaps we seek forgiveness for what we've done from others, because we cannot stand to forgive ourselves. Perhaps we look for God to hold our hands, because we do not have the strength to do what must be done on our own. What do you think?

Then in choosing an immortal life in an act of love, it has denied me the love that matters most.

[ He sounds incredibly bitter as he lets the tears dry on his freshly healed face. But if he was honest with himself if he had known this when his Master offered him the Dark Gift would he have refused it? He was so caught up in infatuation and fear of mortality at the time. Even a vision of Heaven hadn't been enough to dissuade him from the Blood.

He listened intently, soaking up every word. It was difficult to contemplate these questions. He had committed evil. Had he regretted it? No. He had meant every and each act. He would rather be scorched alive than admit this, however. ]

I believe I have strayed and I do not remember how one forgives oneself. I do not have the strength to endure this alone! I need such a hand.

[ He had his paramours on Earth. They gave him purpose and invigorated him with life. Here in this damp cave, what was there? ]

[ Castiel rose, quietly, and crossed over to the basin, running warm water onto a cloth. He returned with it, patient, his eyes soft, offering to clean away the blood on Armand's cheeks, to wipe away his tears. ]

I don't know. I've never forgiven myself, either, although I am trying to learn. It's all very new to me.

[ He lowered his head minutely, an abashed smile touching in place. ]

I sometimes wonder how a creature as old as I am can feel so young, so very inexperienced, as I do. My friends are always teaching me new things, showing me... [ He tilted his face upward. ] Tell me, at least, that you've made friends here. If not, I can't profess to be the best teacher, but...

[ Armand let his face be titled back and wiped. No one except his master had ever shown him such care. He was not ashamed to say it broke his heart a little. ]

What could an angel do that would require forgiveness?

[ His voice sounded small and wondering. There was no judgement, just honest curiosity. An angel was truly made in the love of God, how could they commit sin? It fascinated him to think about. ]

Who are your friends? I have none. Merely acquaintances. I fear I do not make for good companionship. I may be beyond help.

[ Sybelle and Benji loved him. But he had been their saviour, the closest thing to a holy presence they had ever seen. If not for his beauty would they truly love him? ]

[ He doesn't answer the first question, at least not at once. Instead he merely folds the cloth, so as to use the last of it to make sure the blood tears are gone. They disturb him, a little.

He's ready for the second question, though. ]

Sam and Jo. Dean. I doubt that you are as bad a companion as you claim to be. Perhaps you're tired of telling your stories, but others would like to hear them. And you never know, you may learn something new. Of angels, for example.

[ He rocked back, and away, and his eyes drifted first to the floor and then up to the window. He hadn't answered the question, not because he didn't have an answer, but because it demanded gravity. ]

I was proud, and arrogant. I brought back a man who gave his life and his body to save the world, but I wasn't strong enough to put back his broken soul. I used my friends to try to forward my own agenda. I thought that I could singlehandedly stabilize Heaven, and destroy an archangel gone mad with the desire to end the world. I let in monsters from Purgatory, who would have eaten the world, and through me they murdered my brothers and sisters, most of the number that the war against Lucifer had left. And they used my hands to kill people--thousands of innocent people, and made me believe that it was my will; God's will.

[ He still wasn't at peace with it, but every time he spoke about it, it crept somewhat closer. He looked back toward the vampire. ]

But worse than all of that, I lied to my friends, and I refused, when they asked me to stop; when they tried to save me.

video;

text

text

text

text

text

action

action

action

action

action

action

action

action

action

action

action

action

action

action

action

action

action

action

action

action

if this is too late just ignore, I'm so sorry ;;

It's all good! I am the happiest slowpoke anyway~

(no subject)

(no subject)