Mmm. [He grimaces, but refrains from further complaint, taking a few deep breaths to force himself to relax again. He's not sure, in point of fact, how the bones would react if they just broke the circle. Normally if a bone on his vessel snaps (a rare occurrence), setting it is a non-issue simply because of the speed it heals. Almost as if a mix of angelic Grace and human body memory pushes things back into their proper places.
This venture has left flesh and bone time to swell and become inflamed, though. They might very well heal crooked without this intervention, and he doesn't want to take that chance. Not when Loki's being so generous with caring for him.
He hisses and swears under his breath as the other bones are set, but manages to stay still.]
What you see isn't technically my body. [He explains slowly after Loki speaks.] It's a human vessel I inhabit. Taken with permission, and...regrettably, the soul that was once within it went on to the afterlife after Cas--
[He pauses, clears his throat. It's still a sore point and probably always will be.] After I was stabbed. I kept a sliver of my Grace hidden in another human's soul and was able to rebuild, but this still isn't completely me.
Angels can't walk about on this plane in our own bodies without searing the eyes out of humans, or even killing them, along with wildlife and plant species. Everything is so delicate. Or we're just clumsy, maybe.
What I am, here and now, is a weird blend of flesh and celestial energy. I can feel pain and pleasure through this body, but when my Grace isn't dampened like this, it's...less sensitive, I suppose. And I'm stronger.
So, I've been sliced and diced, had things broken and even blown to bits on the field at War, but compared to this it was more like an echo of pain coming down a long tunnel, with plenty of interference along the way. I didn't know.
I hope that doesn't sound insufferably smug to you. I don't mean it that way, and of course you're no more human, or mortal, than I am. But you're all here. Everything that happens here is high stakes. I knew that in an academic sense, but I never understood it before. Not from experience.
I'm sorry. [He tries to meet his eyes, still calm, but utterly sincere in the apology.] I truly did not understand the physical suffering you went through. And I...suppose I still don't, but I have a better inkling now.
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This venture has left flesh and bone time to swell and become inflamed, though. They might very well heal crooked without this intervention, and he doesn't want to take that chance. Not when Loki's being so generous with caring for him.
He hisses and swears under his breath as the other bones are set, but manages to stay still.]
What you see isn't technically my body. [He explains slowly after Loki speaks.] It's a human vessel I inhabit. Taken with permission, and...regrettably, the soul that was once within it went on to the afterlife after Cas--
[He pauses, clears his throat. It's still a sore point and probably always will be.] After I was stabbed. I kept a sliver of my Grace hidden in another human's soul and was able to rebuild, but this still isn't completely me.
Angels can't walk about on this plane in our own bodies without searing the eyes out of humans, or even killing them, along with wildlife and plant species. Everything is so delicate. Or we're just clumsy, maybe.
What I am, here and now, is a weird blend of flesh and celestial energy. I can feel pain and pleasure through this body, but when my Grace isn't dampened like this, it's...less sensitive, I suppose. And I'm stronger.
So, I've been sliced and diced, had things broken and even blown to bits on the field at War, but compared to this it was more like an echo of pain coming down a long tunnel, with plenty of interference along the way. I didn't know.
I hope that doesn't sound insufferably smug to you. I don't mean it that way, and of course you're no more human, or mortal, than I am. But you're all here. Everything that happens here is high stakes. I knew that in an academic sense, but I never understood it before. Not from experience.
I'm sorry. [He tries to meet his eyes, still calm, but utterly sincere in the apology.] I truly did not understand the physical suffering you went through. And I...suppose I still don't, but I have a better inkling now.