bakerstreet | I don't care if heaven won't take me back

You're an angel. Not metaphorically, not in the "you're so sweet" way; you're a literal angel - ethereal energy form, wings, and all. But you're not just any sort of angel. You're a guardian angel. Guardian angels are a caste, or choir, created with the sole purpose of protecting those they're assigned to. Each angel is created specifically for the person they guard, with a few exceptions. The only thing you're programed to know is duty.

Naturally, being invested in your charge is expected. What if your feelings for them veer away from "dutiful" into "fondness" and then...something else? Angels aren't supposed to know love, at least not in the way those in the living realm do. Still, nothing is as certain as it used to be, and you're not so sure of your purpose. All you know is that you want to keep your charge safe.

Can you guarantee that, now?

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How to Play

Comment with your character and preferences.

Mention if you'd rather play the guardian angel or the guarded.

Tag others.

Use the RNG to determine your fate.

Prompts

Watching: You've been watching this person as long as both they and you have been in this world. Maybe over years, maybe suddenly, things aren't the same when you look at them.

Guilt: You realized that these pesky emotions are growing and you know this is against everything you know to be true. Your kind cannot love, and even if you could, this is wrong. You have known this person their entire life and thinking of them as more is unacceptable.

Terrible Angel: You're not angelic at all and fail neatly at almost all the benchmarks, but when it comes to the one you guard, you don't folly.

Righteous Fury: Usually, angels must be removed and impassive. You see your charge mistreated, though, and you lose control.

Relegated to Guardian Angelhood: You used to be much more important, of a greater choir of angel. Then, you screwed up and got pushed down into the ranks of guardian angel. It would be easy to be bitter towards your charge. You aren't, for some reason.

Can't Be Seen: The person you care for the most can't see you. It's typical angel protocol, yet you can't help but want to make yourself noticeable.

Affecting Your Work: Your growing and sometimes erratic emotions make your job harder. You're getting sloppy. You may even allow your charge to be hurt or allow yourself to be conspicuous.

Jealousy: You saw your charge with someone else and it...it really ruffled your feathers. Maybe you lost your cool. Hopefully, that won't mean bad mojo for the other person involved. No one would be any wiser if you made their head more attractive to bird droppings, though.

Kiss: Can you kiss someone when you technically have no lips? They might just feel a pleasant breeze; still, you're kissing them, and this is...nice.

How They'd Like You to Look: You've decided to make yourself known to them, and you want your appearance to be to their liking.

Inhabiting the Vessel They Love: A bit more sinister than the above, but also somewhat practical. They already love this body, anyway.

Revealing Yourself: You're taking the big step and coming into their life as an actual, tangible presence. Of course, "I'm your guardian angel" rarely gets the response you hope.

Stay with You: You promise that you'll stay by their side always, now as a physical companion.

Confessions: No matter the costs, you're revealing your true feelings.

Deciding to be More: It's dangerous, it's unheard of; however, both of you want to become more than just angel and charge.

Intimacy Without a Corporeal Form: They know you're there even when you're not in human form, and they want to touch you. This can be a smut option, but it doesn't have to be.

Intimacy With a Corporeal Form: You're beginning to learn what it's like to be intimate with them while you're in this new form. Again, this can be a smut option, but it doesn't have to be.

Wings: Letting someone touch your wings is the ultimate show of trust and, in angel terms, one of the closest things you have to sexuality.

Called to the Mat: Your higher-ups have learned of your sins. Now, you're on trial. Will you deny your charge?

Not Officially Yours: Problem number one: you're in love. Problem number two: it's with some other angel's charge.

Second Chance: As previously stated, most guardian angels are created for that one special person. However, some angels whose charges have died young are allowed a second chance. Will this new person ever replace your old?

Protection: Now is time to do the guarding - by any means necessary, especially now, after realizing just what your charge means to you.

Fallen: Because of your sins, you've lost favor. You've been stripped of your heavenly grace and you've fallen.

Immortal: You must deal with the implications that your charge will die and you will be sent on to a new heavenly job.

Failed: You didn't do enough. You let yourself slip, and now your charge is dying. They were more than just a charge, so you must do what you can to let their soul pass on in the most peaceful manner possible. But can you let go?

CHOOSE YOUR OWN

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Certainly someone favors him.]

[ooc: The guarded.]

[[Would prefer to play the guarded, but open to being the angel!]]

[would love to play her as the angel tbh]

[He's THE Guardian Angel. Comes in fallen and nonfallen flavors.]

[Actual Angel of the Lord(tm). OTA, canon, cross canon, OCs, assumed CR, etc. all welcome.]

Jace hated how his skin healed so quickly after trying a sigil. Three hundred of them didn't work, but then there was one. It shone bright in the dim light and while it wasn't flowers, a person showed up. Surprised - and slightly scared - Jace shut off the light but the angel didn't go away.

"Oh shit. I broke heaven."

"Trust me, heaven's already plenty broken," Castiel assures the young man as he approaches. Except the young man isn't really a young man; Castiel considers him with an assessing gaze.

"And I'm not here to hurt you," he adds, as he thinks that, perhaps, he should have lead with that.

"I'm here to help. You are Jace, yes?"

"I. Am." Jace answered, haltingly, unsure of what he was actually seeing. The one angel he'd laid eyes on was old and wrinkled and fragile. This angel appeared strong, handsome, educated.

Why couldn't Jace have summoned an ugly angel?

"Yes, I'm Jace. Member of the Shadowhunters, child of the Nephilim," the blond repeated, a little more of his casual bravado entering his voice. If this was a demon, Jace wasn't about to appear weak.

"Why's heaven broken?" If Izzy heard that, she'd be sure to blame Jace.

"Many reasons," Castiel answers, his expression impassive. "Mostly politics and infighting. Trust me, you don't have to worry about breaking an already broken system."

Whatever it is this young man thinks he's done, it is nothing to what has already happened to Heaven. Castiel would know; he's one of what's already happened to Heaven himself.

"Nice to meet you, regardless, Jace," Castiel nods. "I am Castiel. You said you were a Shadowhunter?"

"Castiel," Jace repeated, tasting the name. It suited the guy in the trenchcoat before him, though so would a name like Roger. Jace decided not to mention that.

"Yes," he answered, the word coming out in a breath. He was having an actual conversation with an angel. He had to hold it together. "We hunter Downworlders - demons, vampires, werewolves, though some are cool, and also some vampires, I think." He offered a shrug, then felt foolish for the gesture.

"It can get...complicated."

Castiel listens as Jace describes Shadowhunters and the Downworlders. He's never heard monsters described as such before; for that matter, he's never heard hunters described as such, either.

At the mention of complicated, Castiel does have to smile. His Father only knows just how well he is acquainted with 'complicated.' With the life that he's lead, it rather comes with the territory.

"I'm well versed with complicated," he says. "It's actually why I'm here. To help, if I can."

"Any help would be appreciated," Jace said, the words light, his shoulders slumping just slightly. The blond carried a lot on himself, but being able to share the load was welcomed. Especially when the aid was coming from an Angel. No one at The Clave could argue against aid from an angel.

"I'm hoping you can get me out of here, and far away." Jace finally addressed their surroundings - a grimy cell that rocked slightly back and forth. They were on a barge. Jace could only assume they were in the middle of a body of water, considering he didn't hear the rub of the dock or the sound of people walking over the planks.

"Oh, and if we could steal a golden chalice to stop a war on the way out - and then destroy it - A+ angel-ing.

Castiel recognizes the slump to Jace's shoulders all too well; years of living with and watching over the Winchesters have taught him to distinguish the signs of someone carrying more than their share of a burden or several burdens, such as the case may be.

At the request, Castiel glances around, taking in the rather unpleasant atmosphere of the tiny, grimy cell shifting slightly to and fro. His nose wrinkles at the smell. He's actually fairly certain there are areas of Hell that smell better than this barge.

"So small requests, then," Castiel answers, his tone matter of fact as his eyebrow arches. "And fairly easy to carry out I'm sure."

"Where do we find this chalice?"

For the first time, Jace bristled slightly at Castiel's words. "If you want to end the war between those above and those below, believe me, I don't think anyone would stop you. But if we're not all singing 'kumbayah' around a fire come sunset, we can stop a massacre."

Jace shrugged his shoulders, hating that helpless feeling. "That's just it. I don't know. Last I saw it, it was being taken to the down into the hull, but that isn't where the...vat..cauldron? is. That's on the bow. The front part of the boat. If mortals drink from the chalice, they become Shadowhunters. All of the power, none of the discipline. Some turn into monsters."

Jace's eyes looked worried, eying Castiel. "And it needs to be done without slaughtering people with a storm of locusts or the plague. If it got around an angel was killing their own, I have no idea what that would mean for everyone."

"If it makes you feel any better, I can't actually summon storms of locusts or plagues," Castiel replies, tilting his head as he studies Jace. "I'm an angel but I'm not an archangel."

Jace is lucky in that regard; if one of the archangels were here in his stead, they would slaughter the whole of this ship with a snap of their fingers and without a second thought.

He slides out the angel blade he keeps stored in his sleeve, allowing Jace to see it. "I can take care of whoever we encounter along the way without it becoming a massacre." He gestures towards the door, which he's already unlocked. "Lead the way, and I will follow."

"It does make me feel better, yeah," Jace admitted, his eyebrows lifting as the took in the blade. Oh, he liked things like that. If he was completely honest with himself, Jace would admit that his dick twitched just at the sight of it.

Dropping to one knee, he reached into his boot and pulled out a dull tube. Whispering Castiel's name, the blade extended, glowing brightly then fading to a duller finish. "Guess really are an angel," he said, raising up, keep the blade down by the side of his leg.

"They were in such a hurry to get me in here, they just patted me down. Amateurs." The door unlocked without either of them touching it, but Jace decided he'd been impressed enough for the moment. "Alright," he answered, the handle of the blade rotating in his hand so the point was by his shoulder as he eased out of the smallest crack of air he could manage.

[ooc: Either role.]

I don't care if heaven won't take me back

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