towerofanimus | Angel with a shotgun- wait, he doesn't have one

Characters: Castiel and all of you.
Setting: See under the cut.
Format: Prose or brackactions, I'm okay with anything!~
Summary: Castiel explores the new floors, being socially awkward as usual.
Warnings: TBA.

Floor Thirteen: Cathedral

The house of his Father, or at least, that's what it seems to be. Castiel takes a quick look around, taking note of the murmurs he hears. It doesn't seem like angel communication, since he can't make out what the murmurs are, but they are soft enough to make him feel like he's connected to his brethren again. Taking a seat in one of the pews, he closes his eyes, head bowed and hands clasped together.

"Father..."

-

Floor Twelve: Space

It felt like the beginning of time again, when his Father created the heavens and the Host. Castiel looks up into the dark sky in awe and reverence for his Father's creations, seemingly at peace. He's still aware of his surroundings; he's merely taking the time to praise the Lord in his mind.

-

Floor Eleven: No Walls

Castiel grunts when he feels pressure on his wings, as if an external force is keeping them inside his vessel. Glancing around, he notices the lack of walls on this floor, which, he deduces, could be the reason to his clipped wings. Everything in this room is strange, and the angel decides not to linger too long, unless he bumps into someone on the stairs.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Prussia had been in the cathedral many times, he'd taken it up as one of his haunts. But mostly he saw nations trickle in or people who were curious about how such a prestegious structure was contained within the tower. He didn't really care, it was a piece of home that in a small way he'd missed after being religious for so long.

But the guy in the pew he noticed, but didn't bug him, instead he just watched, leaning easily on one of the massive carved columns.

Castiel could feel the presence of a nation nearby, but it wasn't as strong as the presence he felt in Canada, Vietnam and Taiwan. He didn't move though, still praying to his Father while the voices surround and calm him.

Prussia watched a few moments longer, before moving closer and standing near the edge of the pew.

"Not many come up here. I think you're the first non-nation I've seen."

Glancing up, Castiel acknowledged him with a slight nod.

"This is a replication of a house of my Father, a place to find solace."

He raised an eyebrow at that and looked up at the stained glass.

"You believe we can find solace in this tower?"

"Not in this tower." The angel stood up, staring directly at the nation. "This tower has nothing."

"Hm, figured as much. I gave up on faith and solace the moment I was dissolved, let alone taken here." he muttered, still slightly bitter about the whole ordeal but at the very least the cathedral mellowed him slightly.

"So, enjoying your time here?"

"You must not lose faith, even if you are no longer a true nation," Castiel quickly reminded him. "My Father has plans for everyone."

Turning back to the stained glass, he shook his head solemnly. "No."

"Your Father? From what I've seen I doubt a god cares very much for Nations. I've been bounced through enough religion that I can't constitute what I find truth and what is myth. It causes too many problems and deaths, and whats the good of a nation only to fade when it's people loose their attachment to them." He snorted and leaned against the pew.

"I've lived for millennia only to get the rug pulled out from under me within a few weeks. Pitiful." He wasn't so much as angry as Castiel near him, but more that he was just angry in general. For his losses, for being trapped in a tower, and more immediate that the medication for his broken wrist was wearing off and it was hurting again.

"This tower is going to drive us all insane."

Castiel said nothing, merely looking at the glass. What Prussia said had a speck of truth in it, but the angel didn't sympathize with him. It wasn't his duty to take care of the human race, or the nations; he was only an observer, and a soldier of God.

"I will find a way out of this tower," he muttered after a long pause.

"Hm, good luck with that." he muttered, looking around the cathedral. It was a convincing illusion, very convincing but still leacked the feel the original had.

"So what are you, from how you talk you're not human."

"I am an angel of the Lord." This was said with conviction.

GIlbert stared at him a moment before he burst out laughing.

"Oh that's rich, an angel, right." he snorted and grinned. "Ah, even if you were you must've fucked something up to end up here."

Castiel frowned, staring straight at Prussia. "I did not disprove of you being a nation," he remarked, his back straighter than before. "So you better give me some respect."

"Being the embodiment of a nation is a little more believeable then being an angel. But then again there are trolls here... so it might not be as far fetched. But even then, it's a far stretch of the imagination."

"This form is a vessel." Castiel glanced down to adjust his trenchcoat. "My true form with burn your eyes."

"Always a fun thing to have happen, still, sucks that you're trapped here with all of us."

"I will find a way out."

"When you do, tell me, I want to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible."

"I will."

Seeing as there's not other thing needed to be said, Castiel nodded and took off, leaving Prussia alone in the cathedral.

Angel with a shotgun- wait, he doesn't have one

13 Cathedral

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject