rippedgracesinger

sophiebennettriseofheguardians nixassassinhunter hawkeyedwoman thefeathersofthemyths lettheflameburnalightinyourdark ofancientwinters brokenwingsxhealinggrace rippedgracesinger dark-kitten-raven paytonhalliwell theonewhoabandonedheaven
“Well hey there~” the archangel greeted playfully. “Anyone up for a game?”

+rippedgracesinger

Oh, Meg could see right past the meatsuit the feathery guy was wearing, in spite of his humanly vibe he gave off.

How had Meg known this?

Common demonic abilities, really. It was easy to tell whether or not one was a soul, per se, and… She wasn’t entirely sure if Angels even counted as souls, or if they were simply beings on their own. 

Whatever the case, though, the dude couldn’t have entirely been a human. Meg still casually greeted the him, anyhow.

“What’s shakin’, feathers?”

+rippedgracesinger

Dean and Sam walked into Bobby’s place, letting the door swing shut behind them. “BOBBY!” Dean yelled. “WE- oh, hey there, Jake. Nice to see, ya, man!” Dean lowered his voice as a man walked around the corner to them. It was their old friend and Bobby’s adopted son. Wow. Hadn’t seen him in a while.

“Hey, Jake,” Sam greeted their friend as well. “We’re looking for Bobby. He around here any- dude, hey, are you ok?”

+1
  • rippedgracesinger

Israfil looked up, but hesitated. A brother? The stranger had the demeanor and the aura of a human, and yet an angel he must be - or must have been - because there is an echo of grace where his soul should have been, and a distant sense of familiarity about him that Israfil could not shake.

Even so, Israfil said nothing, watching from a small distance with a strange look on his face.