tushanshu | Video;

[ The video starts with a man looking curiously at the screen. He has dark hair and a faint dusting of stubble on his skin, as though in a few hours’ time he may want to find a razor and have himself a shave.

It may be obvious from the way he’s inspecting the console that he isn’t completely at a loss around technology like this. He isn’t exactly familiar with it, but he’s clearly used a computer or something like it once or twice before. Enough that he isn’t fumbling with it or looking at it as though it’s some kind of mystical portal into another world.

It’s also possible that, prior to his turning it on, one of the kedan who showed him to his apartment explained it to him. ]

Hello. [ He pauses just for a moment, then continues. ] I am Castiel.

[ There’s an odd quality to his voice, deep and slightly rough around the edges, as though it’s still rather new and he hasn’t quite mastered it yet. ]

The kedan who summoned me told me that I’m here to help, but they… [ A slight pause, the corner of his mouth pulling into a tiny frown. ] …neglected to provide the details I require to do that. If anyone can share that information with me, I would appreciate it.

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An...angel?

You mean a real one? Like... [At an otherwise loss for words, she simply points upward.]

[ He glances up, following the direction in which she's pointing. ]

Heaven?

[ Nodding, he looks back at the screen. ]

Yes. An angel of the Lord. One of God's soldiers.

[Her mouth is slightly agape for a moment. Either in awe or disbelief. First shape-shifters...then magic...then spirits...and now angels?]

[Then Castiel's words caught up to her, and she frowned. Because that couldn't be right.]

Angels aren't soldiers. They're supposed to be messengers.

[That was what she had always been taught.]

The beliefs humans have passed down to one another are, at times, inaccurate. There have been a few times over the millenia when one of the Host was tasked with delivering a message to a mortal, but that is not the norm.

For centuries, I was the captain of my garrison. It's only recently that I've begun communicating with humans.

[Her eyes narrow a bit further. Not so much out of anger as...honestly, Midii wasn't even sure what. There were very few things in life she had been taught to believe, and this person here was ruining the only one that had ever brought her a semblance of comfort in her war-torn world.]

No. That's not true.

[It vaguely dawned on her that arguing with an actual Angel probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. Or logical. She didn't care.]

They're supposed to protect soldiers. Not be soldiers. Your world is wrong.

[ It isn't the first time he's told someone the truth only to have it be rejected as a lie. Humans are nothing if not stubborn about their beliefs, whether they are accurate or not. And he recognizes that the truth is harsher and more unpleasant than the lie. Castiel can't blame her for not wanting to believe it. Some days, neither does he. ]

Perhaps it is wrong.

[ He's often felt that way these days. That the angels have lost their way, have perverted the mission God gave them before His disappearance. ]

I cannot say. I only know the way that it is.

Stop saying that.

[She was getting genuinely upset now. And the worst part was that she knew she shouldn't be...that whatever this strange man said to her shouldn't matter...yet it did.]

[ He doesn't intend to make her upset and he sees that despite his intentions, he's doing it anyway. Castiel sighs. ]

I don't know what you want me to say.

...I want you to tell me that you're wrong. That Angels aren't just soldiers. That's they're kind and good and protect people who need it most.

[Even as she said it, she knew her words were both weak and selfish. That there was little chance of getting what she wanted.]

[ That is what they should have been. He thinks about all the humans that have died since the plot to begin the Apocalypse. So many lives sacrificed in the name of something better. Has it truly been better? These days, Castiel doesn't have an answer to that. ]

I'm sorry.

[ Gruff though his voice is, there's genuine regret in his tone. ]

Maybe they are in your world, but not in mine.

[To her credit, she can actually hear the regret.]

This isn't your world.

I know. Earth doesn't have cities on the backs of turtles.

So it doesn't have to be the way you said it was.

It is what it is. If you prefer to believe something else, that's your prerogative. I have no interest in altering your beliefs.

It's not a matter of belief.

[...okay, maybe a little.]

You're telling me you refuse to change, even if the rules already have?

Do you alter who you are to conform to the wishes and expectations of others?

[Yes.]

Do you claim to want to be a...soldier?

Yes. It's what I was created to be. It's where my skills lie. I have no desire to ferry messages between humans. It's my understanding that you have something called a post office to serve that function.

[And that silences her, all further protests and arguments dying on her lips. If that's what he wanted to be, then that's what she would consider him to be. A soldier.]

[But not an Angel.]

Fine.

[ From the sounds of it, that answer displeases her, but he isn't overly concerned. He is what he is, and while he can try to make amends for the damage he's caused, he can't be anything but himself.

To her, he gives a nod. It may not be a joyous occasion, but at least they've reached an understanding. ]

[When more time passed, and she cooled down from the outburst of emotion, Midii would be more reasonable about things. She rarely let her feelings get the better of her, but when they did, she didn't know how to deal with them.]

...I should go. [Before she says anything more she may regret.]

[ A human no doubt has better communication skills in the farewell department. Castiel is accustomed to simply disappearing when he's finished speaking and rarely deals in goodbyes. He nods to her again. As far as he's concerned, there are no hard feelings. ]

Very well.

[She almost did. But her father had taught her better manners than that, and sometimes, she even remembered them.]

[Although, now her announcement of departure had been made. He acknowledge it. So she could quietly sign off without another word.]

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