DEFUNCT - XI Application - NO LONGER APPLIES
- PLAYER INFORMATION
NAME: Jen
AGE: 28
PRONOUN OF CHOICE: She/Her
EMAIL ADDRESS: scrubbed and omitted
AIM SCREENNAME & MAIN PERSONAL LJ ACCOUNT: AIM: scrubbed and omitted
OTHER CHARACTERS: n/a
RESERVED? Yes
- CHARACTER INFORMATION
NAME: Castiel Tomlin
CODENAME: ----
SERIES/SOURCE: Supernatural
AGE: 23
GENDER: Male
OCCUPATION: Accountant, Professor at Xavier's Institute
BACKGROUND:
The first memories Castiel possess are of his brother James, small and guileless as only a child could be. They were twins and shared a special connection that only twins could, inseparable. But that didn't matter to the county Child Services department or to the children's facilities they were sent to. When a young family only wanted one child, not two, Castiel lost his brother to a loving couple and he was left behind. They had been three years old.
As he grew, Castiel was able to ferret out his history before the orphanages and county homes. His mother had died during childbirth and his Father had never remarried, and when they - James and He - had just started into their second year of life, their father disappeared, leaving them with an uncaring relative that had dumped them on the State and disappeared just as thoroughly. There may be other family out there but they haven't looked for him and Castiel doesn't have a drive to seek them out even if he aches to know.
No one wanted the intense and quiet child he turned into after James went away so Castiel never did manage to get himself adopted. He, also, rarely slept, preferring to stare out windows or read books in the corner of his room by flashlight. He spent his years bouncing from one place to another, a ward of the state, and then was forced to leave when he turned eighteen with his high school diploma, three hundred dollars, and a lackluster farewell and best wishes for his future. Not that he minded since he never really cared that much for the system or its workers, or the other children lumped in with him. He made his way into the world as best he could, picking up odd jobs for cash, sleeping in shelters until he could afford a place of his own, and afterward, putting himself through college.
Since he rarely slept more than a few hours, if that, a night, Castiel didn't notice anything was wrong during his first year of college. There were deadlines and research to be done for his classes and his ability to go without much rest was a boon. However, he started to notice little things that were out of sync with how they should be, or how he perceived them to be, in his life. It was like an extended period of déjà vu, seeing or hearing things seemingly at random then suddenly being confronted with them again as if on instant replay. It frightened him when he started to realize that what he was seeing and hearing the first time could be changed, that he could change them.
It started out, at first, as an experiment, seeing if he could change things. The changes he invoked were small but the results he saw were profound and that scared him. But he didn't stop and that had been a mistake. He had been in class when a vision of an accident just outside of the student center slammed into him. A runaway car, a frantic driver trying and failing to jerk the vehicle under control, then a vivid splash of maroon painting the sidewalk for two blocks. Without thinking, he was there, throwing himself between the boy who's blood would decorate the walkway and the car that was baring down on him. Castiel had closed his eyes and waited for the inebvitable...that never came.
He remembers there was a violent jerk at the base of his spine, his stomach twisting uncomfortably, and the sound of shattering glass but a distinct absence of pain. And when he opened his eyes he was standing in the back of the lecture hall, swaying slightly and using the wall for support, listening to a lecture on seventeenth century war between the Protestants and Catholics. He doesn't understand why no one noticed when he ran out of class as if the hounds of hell were chasing him, doesn't remember how he got home, just the feeling of intense wrongness and that somehow his insides had been ripped apart. He spent the next two days coughing up blood and hiding from the world, only venturing out once to visit the clinic on campus. They found nothing wrong with him but he knew they were wrong.
Castiel withdrew into himself further after that, ignored the brush of familiarfamiliarmove that sang to him in whispers, and threw himself into his studies. He finished college with top marks but little else to show for his time. He made no friends and wasn't at all personable. But he found a job that kept him in a room filled with files and computer databases, and didn't have many people around to bother him. So he worked and pretended that everything was alright. The problem was, it wasn't. The disconnect with the world outside his little 'bubble' was unhealthy and the whispers were beginning to become oppressive. He knew he needed help but not where he could find it since he didn't know what the hell was wrong with him in the first place.
But he found salvation, an answer, and sympathy in a place where there were others similar to himself in the way that they too were looking for answers. He was older than many of them but he's still getting the help he needs in exchange for offering to teach Religious Studies and Accounting three times a week. It is, after all, such a small price to pay.
PERSONALITY:
People often mistake Castiel as being shy. This is not the case. Castiel is an introvert. He enjoys being left alone and spends the majority of his time sequestered from the rest of the 'world' either by his job where he has a little office with a door he can shut and be alone with his work, or by shutting himself away in his apartment with his books. However, he is friendly and does not turn people away if they seek him out. He just doesn't make any effort to retain their company. He offers them what they've sought him out for then stares and stammers awkwardly around small talk until the other person(s) leave him be.
APPEARANCE:
Everything about Castiel is average: Average height (5'11), average hair color (dark brown and somewhat styled but mostly disarranged), and average coloring (pale peach). Even his eyes, though strikingly blue, are pretty average. He wears a cheap business suit with a blue tie, and nice leather shoes to work at the accounting office and sometimes forgets to change his clothes when he heads to the Institute to teach. When he does, remember to change, he wears heavy sweaters and dark bluejeans, and heavy boots.
POWERS:
The only powers he is actively, acutely aware of are the déjà vu - he's read up on it and knows it's called precognition - and teleportation. He's not really clear on how either work but he knows that it hurts when he 'jumps' to places, as if something violent happens during the transportation and he ends up sick and most of the time coughing up blood. He's gone to the doctor time and again, usually after an unexplained and unprepared for teleportation, but other than a raw throat and what the doctor described as minor compression injuries to his organs, he's the picture of health. He doesn't understand these abilities and doesn't know how they work. They just happen.
ANYTHING ELSE?: I like long hikes in the woods and zombie films. Be aware. >:D
I named James Novak as Castiel's brother(twin) and am open for someone taking him up to play. As for Castiel's 'family', I'm pretty open about others taking on 'angels'. I left that purposefully ambiguous for that reason alone! However, his Father is firmly disappeared and considering that his canon Father is God, I'd like to keep it that way.
- RP SAMPLES
First-person sample:
I saw a young man today, smiling and joking with someone over his cellphone, and immediately thought of James. I haven't seen my brother, my twin, since we were three - Four? - but he's still ever present in my heart. I miss him like I would miss a limb.
I often wonder where he is and how he's doing. If he's happy with his adoptive family, if he's well. I also wonder what we would say to each other if we were, like the man I saw, on the phone with one another. Maybe we'd laugh and share jokes...or maybe we wouldn't know what to say to one another. It hurts to think that we wouldn't know how to speak to one another after so long.
The man didn't notice me, just continued on his way towards a small cafe where he probably ordered himself a coffee and settled at a table in the back to read the newspaper he had tucked up his arm. And I returned to the office to finish out my day.
The ache I felt, though, still hasn't gone away. I don't think it ever will.
Third-person sample:
He knew Hell to be a twisted, cruel place. Knew it to be thus because Lucifer took what was good, what was righteous and, like a bird with an oyster, smashed it against the jagged surfaces of Hell until it cracked then pulled the bloodied pieces apart, spread them thin, and fed them to the abominations he surrounded himself with.
It was vicious place he pulled Dean from but even that doubt he'd come face to face with hadn't compared to the desolation he faced now from this man. Dean's soul shuddered with agony of his self-recriminations and it tore at Castiel's own to see it, Dean, in such pain. He wanted to offer comfort, some peace but knew that it wouldn't be accepted. In fact, he suspected Dean would react to his kindness with quick cruelty that he didn't really mean but made the man snap and snarl all the same. Dean honestly did not believe himself worthy.
Dean though himself a monster but Castiel knew the truth. He had looked upon the half-formed daemon in the Pit that wielded a rusted knife in one hand and held strips of figment flesh in the other but who's soul shone bright and beautiful beneath all the blood and viscera. That had been the worthy man, the righteous man he'd been charged with retrieving from the depths of Perdition. Dean deserve, so much.
"This war was started by my brothers because they grew tired, weary of their duties, and so arrogant. They are the ones to blame for all that has happened. Since before you were born they had been planning the destruction of humanity."
It hurt him to say it so plainly when it was something that had shattered something vital within him. He still had Faith, Belief but he no longer had Trust in his Brothers. In his Family. Now he only had this man and Dean's chosen - Sam, Bobby, and all those that had died that Dean held dear. Castiel was not wrong in placing his faith in him and he would not see Dean close himself off from the few people he had left.
"You are trying to stop humanity's destruction. This is the right thing to do and Robert knows this. Sam knows this. So did Ellen and Joanna. They knew this and followed you into battle!" Castiel moved closer, eyes blazing with conviction and compassion. "They all believed in you and still do."
"Robert is suffering but he will not push you away. Not now. Let him grieve but do not let him go without a fight because you are worth that. You deserve his support and love."