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[indecadence]

Name: dai
Contact Info: daiyaonna [at] gmail [dot] com ; overcasts
Other Characters Played: Pepper Potts | mostqualified
Preferred Apartment: none!

Character Name: Castiel ; Cas
Canon: Supernatural
Canon Point: mid-episode 05x04 (The End)
Background/History: wiki ; episode summary
Previous Game History: n/a
Personality:

Castiel is an angel of the Lord. Cliche, probably, but it sums up the whole of him to a point. In general, he exhibits behaviors typical of his other brethren when he first makes an appearance in human form: little emotion, relatively calm, aloof. He lacks compassion in relating to humans as a group and as individuals. He doesn’t understand their lack of obedience or the feelings they express, continuously confused by their assertion of free will, and it often clashes with his perception of them as well as the orders he is given by his superiors. In fact, as little as he understands them as people, he understands objects, phrases, and references even less. Still, the moment he drags Dean from Hell and entangles himself with the Winchesters is the beginning of much change for Castiel. If anything can be said of that, he’s determined, and that determination drives much of him.

His time spent with Dean and Sam, as well as on earth, become a slow immersion of learning human culture as well as what differentiates humans from angels, what it means to be human. He’s loyal to a fault, but after some time, he confesses to Dean that he’s beginning to have doubts of his own about the orders he’s given and how he’s spending his time otherwise. Is it right or wrong? It’s a very big concept for someone like Castiel; thinking on his own, in that manner, tends to not have a happy ending. See: humanity. Eventually, it causes him to rebel against heaven. Yet, it’s not his faith that’s rocked at the foundation. He still has absolute love and trust in God, admires humanity for its beauty, and in those things alone he sees conviction for his actions, though he continues to be naive as to the consequences of them. Most of this is seen later on, beyond season five, when he develops something of a god complex--in God’s absence, he feels it his responsibility to carry out retribution and punishment in an attempt to show mercy, taking back his opinion about free will and all things must be ruled. His motivations become rather twisted, too full of pride, even if they are meant with the best of intentions.

Castiel, for the most part, minus the complex and the inevitable insanity he falls into in later seasons because of it, is generally composed and sure of the affection he shows to those he grows to care about. He’s pretty blind to social norms as well, seen many times in the way he constantly stares or invades a person’s personal space. His methods of interacting with others might be considered unorthodox or just plain weird, but the longer he’s on earth helps to humanize him more than many other angels. He becomes sympathetic and acquires a fondness for things he’d previously been indifferent towards as well, i.e. television and coffee.

Yet, this is a Castiel who is still, at heart, an angel. He’s still connected to heaven and still possesses hope. From the specific canon point of 05x04 (The End), this is not the case at all. Stopping the Apocalypse has become a failure; the Croatoan virus spread, and Sam agreed to become Lucifer’s vessel. The world, for lack of a better explanation, had ended.

Here, Castiel’s personality differs greatly from what’s been described above. He’s human in every aspect of the word. He’s developed a taste for debauchery and decadence, drowning himself in them frequently. Daily even. Drugs, liquor, sex; anything that will give him a high, a moment’s peace isn’t off limits anymore because he doesn’t have the tolerance of an angel to keep him from fully experiencing them. It could be said he finds comfort in these things because he misses being able to separate himself from such urges, held to a higher standard than most. He doesn’t know how to cope, to adjust to what’s become of himself since “the end”, and his only friend is a rather poor example of these particular things himself. Now, he’s down-to-earth, supporting free will in the choice of ignoring what’s become of his (lack of) grace, and when he meets the past version of Dean, he labels him a ‘hippie’ because of this attitude. If the meditation circles and orgies don’t scream that specific label, nothing else will.

He later admits to Dean that he finds himself to be utterly hapless and hopeless. Powerless. There is no use for him, so ”why not”? He can’t contribute much to the efforts of the problems they face, and only because of a deep sense of devotion and loyalty to the bond he’s made with his time’s Dean has he stayed. He needs a purpose and has none. So, his faith has shifted from an entirely absent god and brothers who have left to someone who’s ultimately changed because of his sibling’s choice to invite the devil in.

Comprehension of human things are now an everyday norm for this Castiel too; he’s developed the use of slang and some references he would never have gotten (or understood) before. He still maintains an occasional sense of past behaviors and speech patterns, elaborating when necessary and sometimes cold, but his disposition is typical loose, high-induced happy, and finds amusement in things that probably aren’t meant to be funny. It could be the drugs. It could be he’s seen and been through too much to actually care about the consequences of his actions and/or words. His respect for authority continues to waver between cheeky and constant as seen with future Dean’s orders to walk in and shoot the devil despite it very likely being a trap. He’ll follow him to his death, and that speaks volumes despite Castiel’s behavior of choice post-apocalypse.

Essentially, this Castiel is very discontent and finds every way possible to avoid it. He’s lost to his humanity, lacks that drive he once possessed as an angel. And what more is there to do when the world’s gone under other than indulge to the end?

Abilities/Powers:

A list of abilities can be found here. However, with this specific canon point and given that Castiel is human, he has none of these. He’s capable of getting bones broken and must use guns and other (human) weapons to protect himself. Despite this, there does seem to be a little of his grace still intact as he could sense that past Dean was actually from a different time, even through the stupor of being high. So, a probable odd sense of perception that others might not possess.

Items/Weapons:

→ a prescription bottle of amphetamines (30)
→ a pocket knife
→ a lighter

Sample Entry: meme link!
Sample Entry Two:

He wakes to the tandem of a heartbeat. The sounds vibrates in his chest, and for a solitary moment, Castiel feels he’s fallen into the true voices of the angels again. It’s sharp, ringing. He expects to blink awake any time now to find the ceiling of the cabin in Camp Chitaqua staring back like a familiar, yet disappointed friend, but it doesn’t come. Instead, the noise grows steadily louder, louder into a crescendo of alertness. He sits up, and it dies.

It’s an interesting day when his clothes are intact on his person.

Castiel is alone as well, uncommon but not entirely unusual. His fingers touch the mala beads wound around his wrist as he rests on the edge of the bed--an attempt to comprehend this peculiarity. He’s not dead; that much he knows for certain. It’s far too nice a gesture for all the sins he’s accumulated since...before. He expects a quaint little cage, or Purgatory. Perhaps Purgatory would take someone like him. He’s not entirely positive about that, about anything really. There’s a low chuckle, and the next several minutes are spent standing and stretching, arms out behind his back. He has a better view of the room, at the very least; it’s not the worst place he’s seen, conditions on par with the building he’d mysteriously vacated.

And a mystery it is. He leaves the crude apartment behind, enters the hallway with a curious look around.

Something heavy’s settled in the air, and he doesn’t breathe in too deep, wary of what he might pull into himself if he does. Odd considering what he puts there on a daily basis, but this... This is so very different. He can’t quite explain it.

Castiel drags his hand along the wall, touching and learning and exploring these surroundings as he slowly descends the steps. They’re a dangerous commodity for him in this state, the faint thrum of his blood raucous in his head. He manages them well though, steps a bit heavy until he’s outside. The atmosphere is even worse there, foul. Something bitter settles on his tongue, expression twisting into a grimace, and there’s a pull deep in his gut, a hefty weight curling itself around his chest. His pulse becomes erratic the quicker he walks, eventually settling to a standstill before a the solitary rise of a well.

He cranes back, reads the words on the billboard several times over.

“Strange,” is all he says, peering down into the water. A quiet laugh escapes him then, head dropping so the smile isn’t so blatantly obvious to anyone who happens by. He knows screwed when he sees it, and Castiel simply stands there, hands in his pockets like it’s the greatest reverie he’s had in some time.

The sign lies: he does not feel safe here.