You're afraid. I was, too.

Angels either had a weird sense of humor or impeccably bad timing. At least bad from Mic’s point of view. The two demons (who did not see things from her perspective) hadn’t been that much of a challenge but an angel?

"Give me a break—"

Resurrections never came without a price; be it in form of a debt to be repaid or a favor to be requested at a later time. Which was why one was required to proceed with caution. Despite aware that Earth was hardly a place to hide matters of importance, ones which could secure her own survival; she'd succumbed to the reality that there was no place she could reach anymore, where they'd be unattainable.

         He could feel something powerful outside of the dank motel he was          squatting in. Shudders were ripping down his spine and he was terrified.          All of the hair on the back of his neck stood up, and his hands were trembling.          Perhaps, he was imagining it, yes, he was sure it was. He glanced out the          blinds and saw nothing. He glanced away to the clock and looked back          and he jumped. A redheaded woman was standing in the parking lot.

         John grabbed his silver knife from the table and slowly opened the door.          He was nervous and he was extremely rusty, and he was probably          going to get himself killed again. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was          rude to spy?”

Never bore she any doubt in her perception, but this was a Winchester. And it wasn't Dean, nor was it Sam; the sigils burnt into their ribs would prevent her from even remotely finding them. No, this was someone else, but it was impossible. With Michael remaining in the Cage; there was no way the Winchester's father could be—

/lurks.

      dON’T START WITH ME. I HAVE AN ANGEL BLADE.

it’s good that you have protection.

aNNA IS OFFICIALLY OUTIE.

Also, Deanna, dearest?

GO AWAY

Oh darling, but the fact that there are numerous Anna portrayals out there should do nothing but motivate you. See it as a challenge, one you should want to face head-on. Personally, I find it intriguing to go through other people's portrayals of her character, as we all have different understandings of the beautiful character that is Anael. Where one may focus on her rebellion, others may want to delve into the part of her existence which she spent as a human and how it affected her mindset in the long run— there's so many parts of her to explore, that it becomes difficult to get it all down perfectly for one person. Y'know what I mean? Some may even give you some unique insight into areas of her which you might've overlooked; one pair of eyes can't always catch everything. But that's where the beauty lies. Don't be intimidated or scared off by other people writing the same character as you, make use of it; allow it to motivate and inspire you instead of anything else.

     “it’s all become such a mess and i still don’t know what to do.” he’s not ashamed to admit that, even despite their past. he didn’t know whether or not to be relieved at the sight of her. she was extremely intelligent — cunning, even. but there wasn’t a single one of them that had the foresight to know it would become this bad. just when he thought they were taking a step in the right direction, they’re thrown back down to realize that it’s wrong — wrong.

     he’s weary of being wrong.                          fearful of being right.

     “i’m sorry that i can’t rejoice at your return.” what’s dead should have stayed dead, including himself a long time ago. but that’s now how fate is playing out. “and i wish our circumstances were different,” he adds after a moment of thought. it doesn’t come as any surprise that metatron would be digging them up & trying to create more agitation between the angels — not to mention the target painted in bright red on his back. he’d done so with gabriel and what a fine illusion that had been. it was only due to a minor discrepancy that it had come crashing down with realization, one minute detail that hadn’t been accounted for. that was his game. spinning stories, creating pawns and playing them for the fools.

      here; in this place, he’d buried yet another of their brethren [ since when had he held so much sentimentality? ] — but to his understanding, it was a way of paying respect. thus the blood mixed with dirt on his hands and beneath his nails. water wouldn’t wash it away — it never had. albeit human in nature, it was better than letting anyone else come upon the gruesome scene. so was he giving respect or trying to cover his own trail?

      he didn’t know anymore.

     it was corrupt either way. you drape yourself in the flag of heaven, but … 

It was strange; of all meetings between them, this one felt almost distant— as if it should never be occurring at all. Deaths should have transpired and remained in place long ago, as both of their existences had ceased to be for reasons. They shouldn't be here now, neither of them should be here. And yet here they stood, each seemingly gazing at the other with doubts in the area where their vessel's hearts laid beating. Or at least, it's what she felt; a sense of reluctance. When a betrayal occurs after lifetimes of loyalty, one starts answering questions with more questions.

'And i still don’t know what to do'

The truth was, neither did she. Any attempts she'd made to fight for what Heaven once represented, for humanity; the beings she'd come to love and envy— had resulted in her death. Her intended executions of these plans were questionable, yes; but they would have succeeded. But now? There seemed to be no light at the end of the tunnel, perhaps this was the inevitable; the proof of how flawed they really were. But it was in their essence to not give up; they were warriors of God, no matter how grim reality would become.

"I didn't really expect you to." It was the truth; and though not even she expected it, a meager sense of bitterness rested in her tone; It was saddening. But if she bore one flaw; it would always be the fact she'd look past betrayal and give her aid to those who'd had it before; which is what caused her to seek out his side, despite the dreaded scene and reality before him.

outofcharacter. apparently you don’t like gettin’ caught in the rain as much.

      a fleeting simper matches her own as       lips draw back as quick as they arched.       with everything happening around them             (  & happening to them — )       her gesture offers him    ʰ ᵒ ᵖ ᵉ   ﹔       if only for a  p a s s i n g  moment. 

                           ’ —— i thought he was with you !? ‘

"He was, until a while ago." A passing glance was given to their surroundings, "Cas wanted a word with him, I guess. And I can't exactly stick around to find out why, he still has his orders." The smile which graced ethereal features this time, was a different kind altogether; a distraction, more so. "—Just guessed he would've sent him back here by now."