Post-apocalyptic setting
Your character's world has ended and purgatory awaits them, a wasteland full of ruined buildings. The surrounding desert constantly wears down the buildings with a neverending wind. There aren't any monsters to worry about, no zombies or demons, but your characters are haunted by the ghosts of people they once knew and there's only one escape from
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Castiel had already come to terms with it (at least as much as he could), and yet the apocalypse wasn't something anyone just got over. It wasn't something that could be reversed now that it had happened, which left him and the rest of his kindred with this overwhelming feeling of failure.
The most surprising part of it all was that it had not been Lilith and her minions who had made this come to pass. Instead, it had been mere humans who had changed the tide of fate and prevented Dean Winchester from fulfilling his true destiny.
Pacts with demons could not be broken, and so Dean had been taken to Hell, as predicted. It was at that point when the link broke and their chosen one was whisked away from them. Humans should not have had the ability to pull someone out of Hell and put them through their own version of it, but they had, exposing Dean to a brand of torture that was just as bad (if not worse) than what he would have gone through if he'd remained in Hell.
However, he had not broken in the same way, had not turned around and tortured people the way he'd been tortured himself. He hadn't broken the seal. He was not the chosen one.
He could not be saved.
He was damned now, tainted and beyond death. Castiel was under no orders, and yet he had taken to watching both Dean and his brother. Dean had been the key, and the angel had to wonder if maybe there was still a way for him to pick up the pieces.
It was illogical, but there wasn't much else for Castiel to do these days. And so he watched.
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On the other hand, they still had alcohol. Wine. That he could live with (be dead with? He hadn't quite figured out what was going on with him yet. Differently incarnated, perhaps?).
There was one solitary figure in sight. Kind of reminded Kenren of Tenpou in a superficial way, the stubble and slightly scruffy, haven't-slept-in-a-week appearance. "So what do you do for fun around here or am I going to have to pick a fight with the top dog again?"
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It had happened. The few humans who were left were still trying to survive. Some eventually gave in, or they murdered each other. That was all.
Castiel had spoken with Uriel about it, once. The other angel had scoffed, implied that it was bound to happen with the way those "mud monkeys" acted. Castiel had ceased talking to him after that, and Uriel had not searched him out.
Dean and Sam Winchester. After all of this time spent watching, Castiel almost felt as if he knew them. He did not blame them when they killed (angels killed), but the way Dean had taken to feeding his brother was... disappointing.
A voice sounded and Castiel turned, stopped watching something that could not actually be seen except in his mind's eye. He was faced by someone he had never met before. Another angel? He appeared very out of place.
Then again, Castiel was uncertain of how well his contained form suited him. He had never gotten the chance to put it to much use, but it was more convenient than remaining in his true form.
"Fun," he echoed before frowning slightly. "Not many of us make a habit of picking fights, so you might find some difficulty there. I don't believe I can help you." He didn't mean to push the stranger away, but "fun" wasn't a common word in his vocabulary by any means.
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He ran a hand through his hair a little tiredly. "Seriously, one day I am going to find a Heaven which isn't immensely boring and stuck up. One which is actually, y'know, heavenly and all." Because this wasn't it. Far from it in fact.
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Castiel was in no mood to argue.
The stranger's second comment was more noteworthy. Castiel turned to fully face him now, his expression lingering between confused and firm. "There is only one Heaven," he said, his tone flat and matter-of-fact.
Heaven, in theory, was about eternal bliss after the sufferings of mortal life, but it was different for angels. They were warriors, servants of god, and their orders were their top priority.
But now, Castiel was unsure of what to do with himself. It felt like something should be done, but everyone seemed to have laid down their arms.
Except, perhaps, for the one speaking to him. Castiel watched him closely. "Who are you?"
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For a while he thought that that might be the end of the conversation. The guy seemed disinclined to converse with him. He flashed him a grin though when he did finally speak, pulling off a mocking salute. "General Kenren of the Western Army of Heaven, formerly of the Eastern Army but there was some unpleasantness there." Unpleasant being a relative term. His commander's wife had been one hot woman with tits that you could write poetry about. Kenren knew. He'd actually written the poetry.
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Castiel could have told the stranger that Heaven had its fair share of bureaucrats, but it would not be wise to divulge that sort of information to someone he could not even properly sense.
Whatever the stranger was, he seemed to believe that he had been part of Heaven's army. What that truly meant was ambiguous, but Castiel had no qualms in questioning him about it. "If you are part of an army, does that make you an angel? You do not feel the same as the others." Castiel tilted his head just slightly. This stranger was, if nothing else, interesting.
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He looked a little baffled at the mention of angels, not entirely sure what the term meant. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm not an angel. Or I mean, that might be what you guys call us. Where I'm from I guess I'd be called a war god."
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For now, though, that was the best choice he had. "The army I serve in is also meant to take down demons, though that task has steadily faded ever since the world fell into ruin," he explained. Normally he would have assumed that Kenren already knew about the apocalypse, but they seemed to differ on a lot of details that should have been common ground.
"As far as I am aware, there is only one God in heaven. There are other pagan gods, but they are... different." Most angels considered them disgraces. Castiel did not know if it should be so easy to cast them off or disregard them, but it was not his place to make that sort of judgment.
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"Only one god for you? Man, that must suck," he said with some amusement. "Since almost all of the gods I've ever met are truly useless and hypocritical. They'd rather spend their days gossiping and disapproving than doing anything useful." He had nothing but contempt for most of them.
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"Boddhisatva?" he questioned with a frown. There was no point in arguing with Kenren, and so Castiel zeroed in on the points he didn't understand. "Why would anyone find this funny?" He looked away again, thinking about the things he had witnessed from his perch up here. He had been ordered to stay put, and he knew there really wasn't much to be done down on Earth, and yet...
It became harder for the angel to hold his tongue when Kenren implied that his Father was useless. "That is not the case," he cut in. "My Father was working to create a more peaceful, unified world. Me and many others were sent out to do his bidding." Castiel knew perfectly well that those orders sometimes involved taking life rather than saving it, but that was because some people needed to be punished. Humans had flaws; it was one of the things that made them so precious, but at times it got out of control.
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Father? That made him raise an eyebrow at the other man. He called this god his father? That was what he was assuming anyway. Not that it seemed strange. kenren was a god and he was fairly sure that he had a few kids around somewhere. Still... "Yeah, that's what my lot said," he replied calmly. "By way of stomping out anyone who dared to oppose them or who wanted anything different to what they thought was proper."
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"I pity you if your... goddess does not care for your well-being," he said at length. His God was a loving one, but it seemed that Kenren was not nearly as lucky. He seemed jaded, and the words that were coming out of his mouth were similar to what Castiel had heard fellow angels say shortly before they Fell.
"For a god, you are very human," he commented. It was interesting, but it made Kenren harder to talk to. Castiel continued to find himself balking at the things he had to say about beings he should by all means feel grateful to. Then again, if he was really a god, he might not have that sense of devotion and duty that angels did.
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He flashed the other man a grin and nodded. "I try my best," he said. "The Lower World is much more interesting. It changes; the seasons, the people, they're beautiful because they're so transient. Things that don't change are just dull."
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Perhaps they could not feel the same way humans could, but they all knew what this meant.
"You are right," Castiel said, lifting his head when Kenren began to describe the world he had just been watching. "Many divine beings underestimate humans. I found them very fascinating to observe, and it is for that reason that..." He was unsure if he could say he was mourning, but he'd had hopes for Dean Winchester which had now been crushed. Humans were becoming demons, forced to kill to survive. Their hands should not have been bloodied to this extent. That was an angel's job.
"This should not have happened," he finished, even though that was obvious. He had run out of anything else to say.
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