[Open] It's always darkest before the dawn.
Cassie Riddle was having a rather good day. Well as good as she could be, considering everything that's happened lately. She was just enjoying a walk in the park in the autumn sunshine when suddenly, the Rift decided it would be a very good idea to give her deer antlers. And then… they got a little itchy, and she had the instinct to go and rub them
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What he does here, however, are her cries for help, and that has him there in an instant. He appears suddenly between the girl in question, and the monster, disposing of it quickly, before turning back to face her. It's a daily occurrence in Chicago no matter what they try to do to stop them. More always come.
It's almost like home that way.
He turns to face her once the deed is done, before turning and extending a hand to her.
"Are you alright?"
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And because it’s the best emotion she knows when it comes to dealing with most things, there’s anger in her voice as well as fear. She doesn’t like being afraid. People are meant to be afraid of her, not the other way round.
“What the fuck did you just do?!” she cries, “What the fuck was that? The fuck are you?”
… so she throws her phone at him.
“You’re not going to eat me; nothing is going to fucking eat me. What the fuck is with this stupid city?!”
The narration is very, very sorry, Cas.
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This is the first time he's given someone the impression that he was going to eat them.
"I do not consume human flesh. My intention was never to eat you."
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"Whatever the hell that was, was gonna. Who's to say you're not a monster who eats people too?" she says, still wary of him.
He's one of those different ones, she reads. Wanderer, that's what they were called - wasn't it? She's not had much experience with them, not sure how they work. So she's wary, it's just a matter of time before she works them all out.
"Then what the fuck are you?" she asks moodily.
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He then pauses, reaching down to pick up her phone and extend it to her.
"I am an angel of the Lord."
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"What?!" she sneers, her lip curling, "Don't make me laugh, lar. No such thing as God. Load of fucking stories to tell the babbys,"
She scoffs, "Angel of the Lord. Yeah. Right,"
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It's happened to him before.
He takes a breath, thunder claps, and there are those wings of his. Believe him now, Scarlett?
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"What the fuck.." she utters in disbelief.
And then, trying to regain her composure, she lights a cigarette. With a glare in Castiel's direction, she sniffs, "Well, your God's a dickhead," she says simply with an exhale of smoke.
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Well, she wasn't expecting that reaction. She would have thought an Angel of the Lord would get annoyed at such blasphemy. She's actually frustrated that he doesn't seem bothered. Insulting people is what she does best and it works well on most people, but not him.
What the hell's it take to wind people up and insult them these days? Ugh.
"Fucksake, you're a freak," she utters under her breath, taking another drag of her cigarette.
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It is. Castiel hasn't really reached a conclusion one way or another on his father, and his feelings on the subject fluxuate, depending on the day. But he's also used to people having opinions on God that don't match his own. He's gotten over it.
He doesn't have a response on the him being a freak thing. So he's just going to blink at her in confusion.
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It sort of interests her, in a way. She's never come across anyone like him before. All she wants to do is prod at him, part of her wanting to keep pushing until he snaps. She'll break everyone one day, she's sure of it.
So she's going to try and look inside his head, see what he's like. It takes a while, but what she sees makes her take a step back, eyes wide. What the ever flying fuck?! What is all this? All the people, things. It actually hurts, there's too much for her to handle. It's a toy box of fears and misery. It's way too much.
She has to tear herself out, it really hurts. A hand flies to her forehead, "What the fuck, man. ...So fucked up," she looks at him, taking another step back, "You really are a freak, fucking hell,"
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"Why did you do that?"
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She drops her cigarette, having forgotten about it. She swears again. "Because that's what I do," she snaps back, annoyed. "Because I was fucking curious, idiot,"
Rubbing at her temples she shakes her head. "So, the Devil's real too then?" she asks, that was one thing she did pick up. She laughs, "Didn't expect expect him to look like that, or be able to blow you to bits with a snap of the fingers," And there's the meanest of smiles on her lips, "Glued yourself back together, though,"
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"No point," she says with a smirk, rubbing at her temple, "Just observing. I like to observe,"
"Sam, he was called," she says slowly, "Before hand - bet that sucks having him be the one to get all anti-Christ on you. Not a good friend,"
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