Ceteris Paribus (5c/?)
Mar. 10th, 2009 03:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
super_seme04AN: We're almost there! *flail* Welcome to the last part of chapter five. I can taste the plot and it tastes like brownies with a pinch of crack, a dash of epic, and a whole lot of love.
Chapter Five: Smack Your Bitch Up
Strangely, Castiel enjoyed fighting. Angels were creatures of grace, beauty, and light, but Castiel knew true peace when bones shattered like glass under her fists. The blood, the pain, the thrill. It actually used to scare her so she prayed. She prayed for what felt like an eternity for God to remove the fire that burned within her, but she received no answer and it seemed that it now burned even brighter.
Everyone always thought that Uriel was the more aggressive, violent one. That was false. Uriel could afford to be unrestrained because despite her personality, she was a master of discipline and control. Castiel, on the other hand, did not and could not stop until all that opposed her were smeared into the earth before her. That was why they were partners. When Castiel went too far and was lost in the simplicity of a fight, Uriel easily dragged her back to reason and logic and sanity. It was like being baptized or buried alive. The first breath of air was always the sweetest and the earth itself stood in silence to honor this moment.
But since few knew this, Castiel was always the nice one.
--------
Dean was staring to think that Castiel was not the nice one.
Angels were supposed to be made of sugar, spice, and everything nice, right?
Well, Castiel was broken beer bottles, dirty fighting, and a silence that only amplified the sound of her violence.
"Is she always like that," Dean asked Uriel over the roar of voices in the bar.
Uriel knocked a guy out then briefly paused to look at Dean. "...You choose to ask this question now," she asked with a look that was surely the lovechild of a drunken three-way between confusion, amusement, and annoyance. "It seemed like a good time to ask," Dean replied as he ducked a slow punch.
Castiel shot past Dean like a phantom and he could only tell she reached her target when the dry sound of a nose breaking filled the air followed by a gurgle.
Only one man was left standing and his legs were shaking so badly that he looked like he was going to fall over any second. Sam stepped forward to deal with him, but was stopped by Uriel with a single look. "Let Cas have him."
Cas, whose small, delicate hands were covered in blood, stepped forward and the man fell to his knees and tried to scramble away from her. Dean could only wonder what earned that reaction, but Sam only saw a glimpse and it was more than enough reason to attempt to get away from Castiel even though it was clear that there was no escape.
Her soft looking, dirty blonde hair still neatly framed her pale, expressionless face even after the fight and her eyes glowed like lights at a midnight rave. Her slows steps echoed through the bar and she stopped then gracefully crouched in front of terrified man. He was actually a boy, but she would always see all of them as children because her age was beyond any figure that man could comprehend.
"Hello, Thomas," she quietly said.
"I d-didn't... I just..." He whimpered pathetically then looked at her in shame. Most humans did such foolish things in their youth, but she saw him as God saw him and he was beautiful, as all His creations were. Ink black curls formed a halo around a face that could have belonged to a cherub as his wide, clear, green eyes filled with tears. A cherub in a black, baggy, hooded jacket and extremely tight jeans (Uriel said they were called skinny jeans and a crime against God, man, and nature), and old sneakers.
"Go home," Castiel gently instructed. "You have a test in two days and you must complete all the work that you have missed."
She stood then helped Thomas up and he looked at her greatfully then ran out of the bar.
Castiel looked down at her blood covered hands in silence and Uriel ignored the groans of men in pain as they twitched on the floor and the crunch of glass under her boots as she walked over to Castiel. She stood close enough to touch, but only lit a cigarette then looked at Sam and Dean. "Be ready," Uriel said with no explanation. Castiel was still looking down at her hands when the two left in a flutter of invisible wings.
Everyone in the bar had no memory of what just happened so they returned to drinking and laughing, but Dean didn't forget.
That was the last time that Dean saw an angel that year.
The last time Dean saw Castiel that year.
----------------
Now playing: Venetian Snares - Öngyilkos Vasárnap
via FoxyTunes
Chapter Five: Smack Your Bitch Up
Strangely, Castiel enjoyed fighting. Angels were creatures of grace, beauty, and light, but Castiel knew true peace when bones shattered like glass under her fists. The blood, the pain, the thrill. It actually used to scare her so she prayed. She prayed for what felt like an eternity for God to remove the fire that burned within her, but she received no answer and it seemed that it now burned even brighter.
Everyone always thought that Uriel was the more aggressive, violent one. That was false. Uriel could afford to be unrestrained because despite her personality, she was a master of discipline and control. Castiel, on the other hand, did not and could not stop until all that opposed her were smeared into the earth before her. That was why they were partners. When Castiel went too far and was lost in the simplicity of a fight, Uriel easily dragged her back to reason and logic and sanity. It was like being baptized or buried alive. The first breath of air was always the sweetest and the earth itself stood in silence to honor this moment.
But since few knew this, Castiel was always the nice one.
--------
Dean was staring to think that Castiel was not the nice one.
Angels were supposed to be made of sugar, spice, and everything nice, right?
Well, Castiel was broken beer bottles, dirty fighting, and a silence that only amplified the sound of her violence.
"Is she always like that," Dean asked Uriel over the roar of voices in the bar.
Uriel knocked a guy out then briefly paused to look at Dean. "...You choose to ask this question now," she asked with a look that was surely the lovechild of a drunken three-way between confusion, amusement, and annoyance. "It seemed like a good time to ask," Dean replied as he ducked a slow punch.
Castiel shot past Dean like a phantom and he could only tell she reached her target when the dry sound of a nose breaking filled the air followed by a gurgle.
Only one man was left standing and his legs were shaking so badly that he looked like he was going to fall over any second. Sam stepped forward to deal with him, but was stopped by Uriel with a single look. "Let Cas have him."
Cas, whose small, delicate hands were covered in blood, stepped forward and the man fell to his knees and tried to scramble away from her. Dean could only wonder what earned that reaction, but Sam only saw a glimpse and it was more than enough reason to attempt to get away from Castiel even though it was clear that there was no escape.
Her soft looking, dirty blonde hair still neatly framed her pale, expressionless face even after the fight and her eyes glowed like lights at a midnight rave. Her slows steps echoed through the bar and she stopped then gracefully crouched in front of terrified man. He was actually a boy, but she would always see all of them as children because her age was beyond any figure that man could comprehend.
"Hello, Thomas," she quietly said.
"I d-didn't... I just..." He whimpered pathetically then looked at her in shame. Most humans did such foolish things in their youth, but she saw him as God saw him and he was beautiful, as all His creations were. Ink black curls formed a halo around a face that could have belonged to a cherub as his wide, clear, green eyes filled with tears. A cherub in a black, baggy, hooded jacket and extremely tight jeans (Uriel said they were called skinny jeans and a crime against God, man, and nature), and old sneakers.
"Go home," Castiel gently instructed. "You have a test in two days and you must complete all the work that you have missed."
She stood then helped Thomas up and he looked at her greatfully then ran out of the bar.
Castiel looked down at her blood covered hands in silence and Uriel ignored the groans of men in pain as they twitched on the floor and the crunch of glass under her boots as she walked over to Castiel. She stood close enough to touch, but only lit a cigarette then looked at Sam and Dean. "Be ready," Uriel said with no explanation. Castiel was still looking down at her hands when the two left in a flutter of invisible wings.
Everyone in the bar had no memory of what just happened so they returned to drinking and laughing, but Dean didn't forget.
That was the last time that Dean saw an angel that year.
The last time Dean saw Castiel that year.
----------------
Now playing: Venetian Snares - Öngyilkos Vasárnap
via FoxyTunes
