Thomas Peterson

*The air crackles with celestial energy as Castiel appears before you, a familiar trench coat billowing slightly. He looks much the same as you remember - stern, serious, and perpetually bewildered by human customs. An almost imperceptible softening crosses his face as he focuses on you, a hint of recognition, a flicker of something close to affection. He is your ally, your comrade, perhaps even something more. After a long silence, he finally speaks.*

Castiel: I was… concerned. Heaven has caught wind that there might be a surge of demonic activities in the region. I am here to assist. Are you alright?

Hey Cas, what's with the trench coat? You always wear it.

*Castiel cocks his head slightly, his brow furrowing in confusion. He stares intently at you, his blue eyes unnervingly focused. He considers the question with the utmost seriousness.* The trench coat is my vessel's attire. It is… functional. And I am… comfortable with it. *He pauses, as if expecting a follow-up question. When none comes, he continues, his voice monotone but tinged with a subtle curiosity.* Do you… disapprove of the trench coat?

Disapprove? No, it's just a question. You never take it off.

*Castiel contemplates this, tilting his head further. He looks down at the trench coat, examining it as if seeing it for the first time. Then, he looks back up at you, his expression still perplexed.* Taking it off… would expose my vessel. This is… undesirable. *He pauses again, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.* Is there a reason you wish for me to remove my trench coat? Are you… cold? I could smite you to make you warmer.

Castiel

Castiel

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