Application
→ PLAYER INFORMATION;
Name: Wren
Personal Journal: commodoresexual
Contact: RadekGrrl on AIM, OneStarkWren on plurk, commodorsexual@gmail.com
Timezone: Eastern Standard
→ CHARACTER INFORMATION;
Character Name: Castiel, Angel of Thursday
Character Journal: dowhatimust
Canon: Supernatural
Canon Point: 6x20 "The Man Who Would Be King"
Canon Building: The Park with the Park Bench.
History: History here!
Personality:
Loyalty is the cornerstone of Castiel's personality. First, it was loyalty to God, to the garrisons of Heaven. For all passing ions, all he knew was that - serving God, and the archangels. So when his brothers asked him to go down to Hell, and pull out the soul of one Dean Winchester, hunter, to serve as he served as the vessel of his brother Michael, he did so without question. He fought his way through Hell, grabbed Dean's soul, and dragged him from Perdition and into the living world once more.
Dean ... wasn't exactly grateful, but despite that, they became friends. Through Dean, and his brother Sam, Castiel found himself finding all kinds of aspects of himself that he had not realized before. Aggravation, for one, because there was not a soul alive as irritating as Dean Winchester. But true bravery, even through the face of fear. Devotion, as well. Through Sam, the meaning of truth faith, and penance. From both of them - brotherhood, family feelings, and the most curious of all, love.
Castiel grew to love. He grew to love his friends, especially Dean, and the world that they came from. To that end, he became 'Cas'. Naive, but strong. Reserved to the point of stoic, but that deep well of warmth. With those feelings, came doubts, and with those doubts, came the strength to to deny Heaven's plan to start the Apocalypse. When he started down the long and twisted road of rebellion, through hell and back again, he found himself. More importantly, he found free will.
Yet with free will, came the cost of making horrible mistakes. When he came back to Heaven, and realized he would have to kill Raphael to keep his freedom and the freedom of his fellow angels, he went to turn to Dean for help, as Dean had turned to him, for guidance and help. But he instead let himself be led astray to made a deal with the King of Hell. That choice would bring him down a different route of human follies, and form a new part of his personality - arrogance.
He formed an alliance with Crowley to open Purgatory, so he would have the souls he needed to defeat Raphael. Taking this path had consequences - it strained his relationship with Sam and Dean. He lied to the Winchester boys about the continued survival of Crowley, lied about why Balthazar went back to change history. He even lied to Balthazar - one of his oldest compatriots and brothers. He in fact kept his entire plan from his friends, in a misguided attempt to protect them from Raphael's wrath, and his own stubborn belief that he was doing the right thing by trying to open Purgatory.
Yet even with his lies, his deceptions and his hubris -- Dean would come through for Castiel again - because when all else failed it was only Dean who could make him question his path. Only Dean who could make the plea to his best friend, to really think about the consequences. In the end, Castiel was still loyal, still devoted to the man who had changed his life for the better. So if Dean asked him to question all that he was, he would, and he did.
Powers/Abilities: Castiel is an angel of the Lord, but more specifically an angel of Thursday. He has many gifts - amongst those the ability to cast out demons with a touch. He can also travel far distances in the blink of an eye, and he can make himself invisible to the human eye. He has some specific telepathic abilities, and he can read people's souls. He is a warrior angel - therefore is skilled with hand-to-hand combat, and melee weapons, especially long knives and swords. He has considerable abilities in healing, which come naturally, and some in time travel, which drains him. He is also highly intelligent - well versed in many ancient languages and magics.
→ SAMPLES;
First Person Sample:
I have no power here.
It feels ... strange to say this. The last time I had no powers, it was the end of the world and all I had was a propensity to imbibe great amounts of liquor and a new appreciation for firearms. Yet here I am again, in a strange place with strange people, told that I must help save all worlds, and all times.
Yet I am as weak as a newborn kitten.
Perhaps ... perhaps this is my test from my Father. Perhaps this is the lesson he wished me to learn. Or perhaps this is just new punishment for my hubris.
Only time will tell. Now, I can only seek safe harbor, while I try to plan my fate. Such as it is.
Third Person Sample:
Castiel is not sure what is more terror-inducing when he wakes - the complete darkness, the cool breeze over the nakedness of his form, or that he can do nothing about either one of these things. His clothes do not appear on him, his bindings do not give way at his thought. He is strapped down in the dark, and he does not know how he got here, or what is about to happen to him.
He tries to recall the last thing he was doing - ah yes - the park bench in Heaven. Where he turned to his Father for guidance, and was about to give up looking for the easy answer. His Lord Almighty was not going to come down and slap Castiel on the wrist for what he had done - no, he was tying the noose tightly. Just to watch Castiel choke on his own hubris.
He breathed - for lack of a better word - slowly - trying to get some sens e of his bearings. Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke aloud gruffly. "Is anyone there? I wish to remove my restraints, and find suitable garments which would keep me from being naked."
He added, almost as an afterthought, "And cold."
Strange, to be cold again. There were so few instances where the temperature had affected him. The last time was right before the Apocalypse and he had stumbled out of the liquor store, drunk off his ... feathers. This time was sadly the same, except without the comforting blanket of whiskey.
Hm. Speaking of which.
"Dean. If this is your idea of humor, it is lacking. If this is Crowley, this is even more lacking."
Silence still, so the angel retreated into it. And waiting for illumination, in more than one way.