Somewhere they're meeting on a pin head

If he were in the frame of mind to think analytically or abstractly -- or at all -- Castiel would suppose he could be forgiven for not having noticed what was happening to his world. Or, rather, he had noticed, he'd merely believed it to be a side effect of the war in Heaven and used it as further evidence that what he was doing now was the only thing he could do, no matter how much Dean yelled at him that it was completely ridiculous and dumb.

Even if he'd had some idea of what was happening and what was coming, Castiel had already consumed the combined virgin and Purgatory monster blood. He'd removed or alienated or outright destroyed all his allies to do so. He was primed now to open the portal and retrieve the souls of Purgatory and win Heaven's war once and for all, and there was no going back.

As Dean and Bobby fought to stop Crowley and Raphael from opening the portal in Crowley's lab, Castiel stood firmly before his own portal, the empty jar of blood clenched in his hand. He took a deep breath, focused his will and his grace, and raised his hand.

The portal opened, and blackness spilled forth. Castiel threw open his arms and closed his eyes to absorb the incoming souls, and anything else Purgatory had to offer.

The Nothing swallowed him whole, as it had the rest of Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, and Earth. Castiel never noticed a thing.

[ooc: and that's it for Cass. It's been super fun, but I just cannot wrap my head around what to do with what canon did to him. He will not be coming back after the BDE. Thanks, all!]

Dean Winchester was out to get himself killed. Not that this was a surprise -- the Dean of Castiel's universe tended to try and get himself killed on almost a weekly basis. Castiel had all but given up on convincing him to try anything else.

Admittedly, Castiel could understand Dean's suicidal bent. His younger brother had said "yes" to Lucifer and was now out to rule the world. He wondered what the Sam of Fandom would have to say of such behavior. What his father and step-mother would think.

He suspected he knew what Chuck would say.

He rather wished he were there right now, instead of facing down against his older brothers on the cusp of the end of the world. He missed the church, the wide-eyed looks on the students' faces when he gave a sermon. The ready access to alcohol.

No time for that now, though. ( 'Hey, ass-butt!' )

[ooc: NFI. Dialog riffed straight from the worst season finale EVER, omg SPN 5.22. Alas, it kind of had to happen. . . .]

Honestly, Castiel had barely made it to the point of consciousness in, like, weeks. The newly discovered wonders of a diet of mostly vodka would do that to a guy, mostly-fallen-angel or no. The kittens -- who were no longer entirely kittens -- had taken to prancing around on his chest to remind him to do things like eat and move around occasionally -- after all, if he was feeding the cats, he might as well feed himself something, and playing required movement. It wasn't as though Castiel figured he had much better to do. The residents of Fandom had gotten along without him for quite awhile before he arrived, and would do so again. Neither Winchester nor Chuck was still around. What was the point of it all?

Over all, it was pretty pathetic. And Angelbane had had about enough of it. She climbed on top of the empty dresser into the window sill, peered up at the clouds, and meowed as pitifully and obnoxiously as she was able until the rectory filled itself with bright, glaring light.

When the light cleared, Castiel and the cats were gone, Castiel dumped onto a shrimping boat off Delacroix Island, Louisiana, just in time for his universe's Winchester's final bid against Lucifer and the angels, Angelbane and her no-longer-kittens into a cozy corner of Bobby Singer's salvage yard to chase unwary British accented demons and mice and wait for the smoke to clear.

In Angelbane's opinion, it was about bloody time.

[ooc: NFI. Due to RL time constraints, Castiel is now officially expatriated. *snuggles the emoest angel of them all*]

And definitely wasn't 2010.

Castiel appeared behind Zachariah, had time to note that a) there were a bunch of angel goons glowering threateningly at the Winchester brothers, b) Dean was bleeding from the mouth (again) and Sam seemed to be making fish faces on the floor, and c) Castiel was holding the only weapon he knew of which could kill his fellow angels.

There really wasn't a whole lot of thought for the next several seconds, right up until Zachariah looked at him in shock.

He knew what had happened.

"How are you --"

"Alive? Good question. The angels didn't do it. I think we both know the answer, don't we?"

Everything that had happened, from the prophet Chuck's house to Fandom to here, was worth the look on Zachariah's face.

"No. That's not possible."

"It scares you. Well, it should. Now, put these boys back together and go. I won't ask twice."

As Zachariah did what he was told and vanished, and Castiel carved the Enochian sigils into Sam and Dean's ribs, he couldn't help the swell of hope and pride in his vessel's chest. Now, finally, he could save his world from the apocalypse. He had the answer.

He just had to find God.

Shouldn't be too hard, right?

[ooc: NFB due to distance. Fun with canon!]

So, it's April 15. In the US, that means it's tax deadline day, and I work for an office with "Tax" in its very name. . . .

Naturally, this had to fall on a Thursday this year. Normally, this is my busiest day for interactions in the game, but today I'll be very scarce -- if present at all. Services at the church can be handwaved, as, I hope, can Priestly's opening of the diner. I'll try to at least get into sign in threads for classes, but not until late.

See y'all on the flipside!

Did you know about feline pregnancy? Castiel would be willing to bet that you likely didn't. Well, today, he was going to fix that. It had been on his mind, after all, what with Angelbane's delicate condition. He had stacks of notes, diagrams, and even a powerpoint presentation all lined up. One he made himself. There was a lot of oddly chosen clip art.

Fortunately for everyone involved, a very large gremlin decided to celebrate the day by creeping into the church and take a bit out of the fleshiest bit of Castiel's hand. Even more fortunately for the gremlin, who rather felt it didn't have time to hang around and gnaw on an angel, Castiel's powers had diminished enough that a very large gremlin was just the sort of thing to send him in a nice hallucinogenic fit for a few hours.

That powerpoint presentation would just have to wait.

[ooc: Establishy.]