[It's an intangible place Gabriel resides in - he's still trying to work out the kinks of just what kind of limbo is malleable enough for him to change it - but maybe, he figures, the Old Man might've taken pity on him for that last-ditch sacrifice and carved him out a private piece of pseudo-Heaven. Whatever the place is, sometimes he gets to poke a little hole in the bubble and look out. He doesn't see, really, it's kind of a shy touch that brushes his Grace and whispers what's going on out there. The universe, maybe, or just Earth. Or Heaven.
It's chaos. That's all that seeps in.
And that's how he can tell something different is happening. It might be chaos, but universal chaos is a little organized; compartmentalized.
Gabriel catches it - this little broken piece that stumbles into his nook. Somehow it doesn't surprise him that it's Castiel, insubstantial and glowing, shoved into a human shape because Gabriel is nostalgic for humanity.]
We've gotta stop meeting like this, bro. You're turning into a damsel.
no subject
It's chaos. That's all that seeps in.
And that's how he can tell something different is happening. It might be chaos, but universal chaos is a little organized; compartmentalized.
Gabriel catches it - this little broken piece that stumbles into his nook. Somehow it doesn't surprise him that it's Castiel, insubstantial and glowing, shoved into a human shape because Gabriel is nostalgic for humanity.]
We've gotta stop meeting like this, bro. You're turning into a damsel.