Castiel is not alone in bouncing about the barracks. Restless and slightly agitated, Dante is doing his version of the same -although with less bouncing and a whole lot of more stalking about and avoiding people in general.
The white-haired young man had just sneaked in and out of the abandoned pub and is now walking out with one of those suspicious bottles in hand. He sniffs it with a frown and ponders if it could be worse than Bobby's moonshine. His thoughts are interrupted as he spots a figure.
New guy -or one he hadn't seen before, dude in trench coat. Dante gives him a glance and prepares to walk past and steer off to avoid confrontation. But, as he passes the man he stops dead. The half-demon stops and looks over his shoulder.
Unknowing to him, Dante has all ready met one of the angels here but she was human at the time and so was he. He gives Castiel a less than subtle suspicious look. The wood dulled his senses but there was definitely something off with trench coat guy here. And in a way that really struck a nerve, no less.
After another stare, he folds his arms over his chest. "And what the hell are you supposed to be?"
Castiel would have been content to ignore Dante and keep his focus where it belongs, but apparently today was "Let's talk to Castiel" day and he isn't allowed to have that peace he so desperately wants. There is also something ... off ... about the man who spoke to him, but most beings from other worlds seem off to him, so he's not thinking anything of it at the time.
He doesn't give Dante anymore attention than he has to, which also means there's no eye contact. See? Manners are overrated.
Overrated indeed. Dante has to give the trench coat guy credit for being one amusing character. Or; he will, once he's not focused on the reply he just got.
"An angel... of the Lord?" He repeats the words slowly and then lets out a laugh, obviously a bit sceptical and/or baffled. "Are you fuckin' kidding me?"
He'll actually glance to look at him this time, just so he can see how not kidding he really is. Being an angel isn't something that Castiel jokes about. He takes his job very, very seriously.
An awkward moment passes in silence as he just stares at Castiel while the cogs in his brain process the situation. An angel. Dude, that's pretty special. Dante shifts his weight and looks around as if looking for confirmation it's not a prank. Then he shrugs and accepts it. Considering where they are; Wairies, angels.. Fine why not.
"Okay, that's pretty wild." He frowns in thought, folds his arms and looks to Castiel again with a question. "Hey... I've always wondered -is God dead or really just a douchebag?"
There is a stare. A long, uncomfortable burning stare.
Yes, his God is a douchebag, but he's not actually going to say that out loud. That's his father you're talking about, assbutt. So he's going to stare you down for a moment, before turning back to what he's doing.
The stare is duly noted and returned full on with a deadpan look of calm, unimpressed confidence. The latter either due to being an idiot, or just completely lacking in respect of the divine. Possibly both.
He can relate to douchebag fathers though, so at the angel's reply he sets his mouth and nods. "So he's a douchebag. Huh. Good to know it's not just where I'm from then."
"So.. you got a name? First time I ever met an angel that isn't working for the opposition. Figure I could ask and all."
"Castiel," he says with a sigh. "My name is Castiel."
He's the angel of Thursday, cares a little too much for humanity as a whole, and is just a liiiiiiiiittle too attached to two brothers with the last name Winchester, but Dante isn't going to get any of that either. In fact, Castiel isn't much into giving away personal details. Though there is one thing that catches his attention.
"Castiel. I'm Dante." He smirks a he says hallo. Angels never was his forte so the name means nothing to him. But he's got to admit that he's kind of interesting. -A supposed servant of the lord, in a trench coat; looking more like a bored and exhausted nine-to-five commuter than a holy warrior.
"Hell hasn't been much of an ... issue as of late."
If he looks exhausted, it may be because he actually is exhausted. He's been fighting a civil war non-stop for a year. War is much more exhausting when it's an internal issue, rather than an external one. He intends to leave it at that, but then curiosity gets the better of him.
"Maybe not where you're from. Back home, it's the more or less only issue." A pause.. and he scratches his chin thoughtfully, only to add in a lower voice; as if to himself "...and taxes. And bills."
Dante could relate to that. Beofre the Wood snatched him up he was fresh out of a 24hrs+ non-stop one-man-army war with Hell that was squarely a family business. Internal issue blows, man.
His wayward thoughts about what's become of his--last time he looked--trashed new office is interrupted by the angel's question. "What?"
He holds up his hands and snorts out a dry laugh. "Oh hell no I'm not with the opposition. I'm a wanted man on their list and they on mine. I meant the only angels I've ever seen before are fallen ones. Ugly fuckers, too. Like your style better." he gives Castiel a somewhat sympathetic yet amused look, "Looks like you could use a good long drink tho'"
"Drinking would not be useful at this juncture," he replies. He does not need to be drunk right now. He does not need to give Ruby material to mock him with later.
Not that he ever needs to give Ruby reason to do so, but he doesn't need to help his own case by getting wasted. That, and Dante probably doesn't have nearly enough alcohol to do so.
"Angels that fall where I'm from become human. They forget everything about their world. I can't say that we are from the same existence."
"Drinking is rarely useful." Dante says casually and remembers he has his the questionable old bottle he dug out of the abandoned pub. "That's kind o' the reason why it's popular." No he didn't have any liquor. It didn't stop him from wishful thinking, however.
"Lucky them. Better than becoming demons." The Fallen ones he'd encountered were clearly corrupted, but who knew... If he had to guess it probably depended on how an angel fell and for what reason. The rulers of Hell was supposed to be of higher stock though, weren't they? If you believed the old books anyway.
The half-devil shrugs. "Nope, dun' think we are." If they were, Dante had to wager there was the chance he'd been recognized. He turns around to continue on to wherever he was going.
"Good luck with whatever it is you angel dudes do." He waves a hand like a lazy salute and starts off.
The white-haired young man had just sneaked in and out of the abandoned pub and is now walking out with one of those suspicious bottles in hand. He sniffs it with a frown and ponders if it could be worse than Bobby's moonshine. His thoughts are interrupted as he spots a figure.
New guy -or one he hadn't seen before, dude in trench coat. Dante gives him a glance and prepares to walk past and steer off to avoid confrontation. But, as he passes the man he stops dead. The half-demon stops and looks over his shoulder.
Unknowing to him, Dante has all ready met one of the angels here but she was human at the time and so was he. He gives Castiel a less than subtle suspicious look. The wood dulled his senses but there was definitely something off with trench coat guy here. And in a way that really struck a nerve, no less.
After another stare, he folds his arms over his chest. "And what the hell are you supposed to be?"
Manners, what manners?
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Castiel would have been content to ignore Dante and keep his focus where it belongs, but apparently today was "Let's talk to Castiel" day and he isn't allowed to have that peace he so desperately wants. There is also something ... off ... about the man who spoke to him, but most beings from other worlds seem off to him, so he's not thinking anything of it at the time.
He doesn't give Dante anymore attention than he has to, which also means there's no eye contact. See? Manners are overrated.
"I am an angel of the Lord."
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"An angel... of the Lord?" He repeats the words slowly and then lets out a laugh, obviously a bit sceptical and/or baffled. "Are you fuckin' kidding me?"
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He'll actually glance to look at him this time, just so he can see how not kidding he really is. Being an angel isn't something that Castiel jokes about. He takes his job very, very seriously.
And besides, it's a fact. Why would he lie?
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An awkward moment passes in silence as he just stares at Castiel while the cogs in his brain process the situation. An angel. Dude, that's pretty special. Dante shifts his weight and looks around as if looking for confirmation it's not a prank. Then he shrugs and accepts it. Considering where they are; Wairies, angels.. Fine why not.
"Okay, that's pretty wild." He frowns in thought, folds his arms and looks to Castiel again with a question. "Hey... I've always wondered -is God dead or really just a douchebag?"
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Yes, his God is a douchebag, but he's not actually going to say that out loud. That's his father you're talking about, assbutt. So he's going to stare you down for a moment, before turning back to what he's doing.
"No. God isn't dead."
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He can relate to douchebag fathers though, so at the angel's reply he sets his mouth and nods. "So he's a douchebag. Huh. Good to know it's not just where I'm from then."
"So.. you got a name? First time I ever met an angel that isn't working for the opposition. Figure I could ask and all."
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He's the angel of Thursday, cares a little too much for humanity as a whole, and is just a liiiiiiiiittle too attached to two brothers with the last name Winchester, but Dante isn't going to get any of that either. In fact, Castiel isn't much into giving away personal details. Though there is one thing that catches his attention.
"Opposition?"
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"Hell. I'd think it'd be obvious."
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If he looks exhausted, it may be because he actually is exhausted. He's been fighting a civil war non-stop for a year. War is much more exhausting when it's an internal issue, rather than an external one. He intends to leave it at that, but then curiosity gets the better of him.
"Why are you part of the opposition?"
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Dante could relate to that. Beofre the Wood snatched him up he was fresh out of a 24hrs+ non-stop one-man-army war with Hell that was squarely a family business. Internal issue blows, man.
His wayward thoughts about what's become of his--last time he looked--trashed new office is interrupted by the angel's question. "What?"
He holds up his hands and snorts out a dry laugh. "Oh hell no I'm not with the opposition. I'm a wanted man on their list and they on mine. I meant the only angels I've ever seen before are fallen ones. Ugly fuckers, too. Like your style better." he gives Castiel a somewhat sympathetic yet amused look, "Looks like you could use a good long drink tho'"
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Not that he ever needs to give Ruby reason to do so, but he doesn't need to help his own case by getting wasted. That, and Dante probably doesn't have nearly enough alcohol to do so.
"Angels that fall where I'm from become human. They forget everything about their world. I can't say that we are from the same existence."
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"Lucky them. Better than becoming demons." The Fallen ones he'd encountered were clearly corrupted, but who knew... If he had to guess it probably depended on how an angel fell and for what reason. The rulers of Hell was supposed to be of higher stock though, weren't they? If you believed the old books anyway.
The half-devil shrugs. "Nope, dun' think we are." If they were, Dante had to wager there was the chance he'd been recognized. He turns around to continue on to wherever he was going.
"Good luck with whatever it is you angel dudes do." He waves a hand like a lazy salute and starts off.
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Again, as was stated previously. Manners are overrated.
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