》 （one） voice＋action。
--Dean, if you're there, I [a beat.] need your help--. [Castiel sounds uncomfortable; the phone isn't exactly one he's used to, and the lack of response is telling. Of course, that's not the only reason he sounds uncomfortable, but that's neither here nor there. There's a momentary pause.] ...Sam? [His tone holds a more questioning tone at the second name, as if he doesn't expect them to answer either. However, it's not clear whether his doubt is due to his own situation or the situation of the people he'd been trying to call. This pause -- hesitance, even -- is followed by a soft sigh indicative of something between irritation and resignation, and it's clear the speaker doesn't intend on saying anything further unless prompted.]
》 action。
[It had been evident immediately that something was wrong; the sensation of inhabiting a vessel but retaining none of the angelic powers he'd had throughout his entire existence wasn't new, but it was continually unwelcome. Whilst it wasn't what one would describe as an intrinsically physical sensation, it was unnerving, troublesome and disconcerting nevertheless.
That, however, wasn't all. Not only had he woken up (a rare occurrence in and of itself, although he wouldn't describe sleep, nor the act of waking, as particularly unpleasant), but he'd woken up beside a woman. And she'd claimed to be his wife. Questioning her had proved futile, and she was -- irritatingly -- insistent that he'd spent his entire life 'here'. The photos supporting her claims had been intriguing, but nothing more. Depending on who and what he was dealing with, they could be fabricated more than easily. As such, he was less concerned with the physical aspects of where ever it was he found himself and more with the meta-physical (or, as it happened, the comparative lack of them). There were, comparatively speaking, few beings that could both create a reality and inhibit an angel's powers and Castiel wasn't particularly comfortable with the idea of facing any of them alone and without his powers.
After attempting to use the phone provided in his house (and finding the rotary more annoying than the keypad on the phone he'd owned previously), he'd decided that exploring would be the better option. There would be signs, hints, clues as to what had brought him here and done this.
It was just a matter of finding them.]
(ooc: feel free to bump into Castiel more or less anywhere in Mayfield -- he's just going to be wandering around, basically, looking vaguely bemused. And unimpressed. With regards to neighbours, he's living at 771 Bunker Street.)
》 action。
[It had been evident immediately that something was wrong; the sensation of inhabiting a vessel but retaining none of the angelic powers he'd had throughout his entire existence wasn't new, but it was continually unwelcome. Whilst it wasn't what one would describe as an intrinsically physical sensation, it was unnerving, troublesome and disconcerting nevertheless.
That, however, wasn't all. Not only had he woken up (a rare occurrence in and of itself, although he wouldn't describe sleep, nor the act of waking, as particularly unpleasant), but he'd woken up beside a woman. And she'd claimed to be his wife. Questioning her had proved futile, and she was -- irritatingly -- insistent that he'd spent his entire life 'here'. The photos supporting her claims had been intriguing, but nothing more. Depending on who and what he was dealing with, they could be fabricated more than easily. As such, he was less concerned with the physical aspects of where ever it was he found himself and more with the meta-physical (or, as it happened, the comparative lack of them). There were, comparatively speaking, few beings that could both create a reality and inhibit an angel's powers and Castiel wasn't particularly comfortable with the idea of facing any of them alone and without his powers.
After attempting to use the phone provided in his house (and finding the rotary more annoying than the keypad on the phone he'd owned previously), he'd decided that exploring would be the better option. There would be signs, hints, clues as to what had brought him here and done this.
It was just a matter of finding them.]
(ooc: feel free to bump into Castiel more or less anywhere in Mayfield -- he's just going to be wandering around, basically, looking vaguely bemused. And unimpressed. With regards to neighbours, he's living at 771 Bunker Street.)