angels are, generally speaking, far greater in power than demons, cosmic in their greatness, but there are notable exceptions. while most demons cannot hope to touch even a common footsoldier like castiel, there are other demons, stronger demons that are capable of inflicting great damage, far closer to his own ability, if not surpassing it. even the strongest of demons are still incapable of outright killing an angel, the best they can do is injure him, capture him, or send him back to heaven, but none of those options are high on his list right now, and castiel is carrying precious cargo. he is not strong enough to kill this demon, and he hardly has the energy left to defend himself, to fight enough to escape.
dean is calling from within him, and castiel can't help but be.. surprised. alistair can't hear it, of course, but castiel can, and he thinks perhaps, that humans are little wonders, aren't they? dean is still fighting, still brave in the face of all this, and it's really a little absurd, like an ant waving a sword at a tiger, but it's admirable nonetheless. castiel will have to borrow that bravery.
he doesn't rise to alistair's taunts, doesn't waste any more precious time, and instead dives onto him, blade whistling and wings snapping, his grace all but singing inside of him, funneled into laser sharp focus. they tear into one another like wild dogs, castiel's grace arcing like lightning over alistair's grey smoke, his blade striking home more than once. it's brutal and it's savage and it's fast, neither one giving the other even an inch of leeway, but alistair is the stronger of the two, and castiel is vastly weakened, and soon enough he loses what little chance he had of grasping the upper hand. it is no longer a fight, but a beatdown, and alistair laughs high and keening and wild while he lays into him, clawing at him, tearing at him, pulling at his wings with razor claws. he flings castiel bodily to the wall again, and castiel heaves, his grace flickering like a guttering candle, pain rippling through him in bursts of color.
alistair grins like a cheshire cat, and with one spindly hand keeps castiel pinned to the wall, surveying his work.
You did try.
he begins to pull, prying at castiel's grace, splitting it with his long fingers and pulling, pulling, pulling, prising open a space into him to shake dean loose, splitting him open, like prying open the bars of a prison door. the sound castiel makes is enough to shake the very foundations of hell, a wild, tormented scream of agony that surges through the space around them, shaking the grimy walls themselves, all shot through by the shrieking, primitive sound of alistair's laughter.
bright light shines like the sun, and something large and dazzling descends on alistair from above, crashing into him with immense speed and power and all at once alistair is gone from before him, and castiel is crumpling, seizing, folding against the wall for a handful of moments before he is able to catch himself. the center of the room is filled with light like the sun, and the seraph throws four of its six great wings wide, fire arcing from its wingtips. raziel.
Go.
its great voice booms, resonant, before it's turning on alistair, the demon quickly shrinking away, searching for an exit, but castiel does not wait to see the end. he gathers himself, summoning his flagging strength in one final burst to open his torn wings and soar, up, up, up and through the veil. ]
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Date: 18 Dec 2015 02:03 (UTC)angels are, generally speaking, far greater in power than demons, cosmic in their greatness, but there are notable exceptions. while most demons cannot hope to touch even a common footsoldier like castiel, there are other demons, stronger demons that are capable of inflicting great damage, far closer to his own ability, if not surpassing it. even the strongest of demons are still incapable of outright killing an angel, the best they can do is injure him, capture him, or send him back to heaven, but none of those options are high on his list right now, and castiel is carrying precious cargo. he is not strong enough to kill this demon, and he hardly has the energy left to defend himself, to fight enough to escape.
dean is calling from within him, and castiel can't help but be.. surprised. alistair can't hear it, of course, but castiel can, and he thinks perhaps, that humans are little wonders, aren't they? dean is still fighting, still brave in the face of all this, and it's really a little absurd, like an ant waving a sword at a tiger, but it's admirable nonetheless. castiel will have to borrow that bravery.
he doesn't rise to alistair's taunts, doesn't waste any more precious time, and instead dives onto him, blade whistling and wings snapping, his grace all but singing inside of him, funneled into laser sharp focus. they tear into one another like wild dogs, castiel's grace arcing like lightning over alistair's grey smoke, his blade striking home more than once. it's brutal and it's savage and it's fast, neither one giving the other even an inch of leeway, but alistair is the stronger of the two, and castiel is vastly weakened, and soon enough he loses what little chance he had of grasping the upper hand. it is no longer a fight, but a beatdown, and alistair laughs high and keening and wild while he lays into him, clawing at him, tearing at him, pulling at his wings with razor claws. he flings castiel bodily to the wall again, and castiel heaves, his grace flickering like a guttering candle, pain rippling through him in bursts of color.
alistair grins like a cheshire cat, and with one spindly hand keeps castiel pinned to the wall, surveying his work.
You did try.
he begins to pull, prying at castiel's grace, splitting it with his long fingers and pulling, pulling, pulling, prising open a space into him to shake dean loose, splitting him open, like prying open the bars of a prison door. the sound castiel makes is enough to shake the very foundations of hell, a wild, tormented scream of agony that surges through the space around them, shaking the grimy walls themselves, all shot through by the shrieking, primitive sound of alistair's laughter.
bright light shines like the sun, and something large and dazzling descends on alistair from above, crashing into him with immense speed and power and all at once alistair is gone from before him, and castiel is crumpling, seizing, folding against the wall for a handful of moments before he is able to catch himself. the center of the room is filled with light like the sun, and the seraph throws four of its six great wings wide, fire arcing from its wingtips. raziel.
Go.
its great voice booms, resonant, before it's turning on alistair, the demon quickly shrinking away, searching for an exit, but castiel does not wait to see the end. he gathers himself, summoning his flagging strength in one final burst to open his torn wings and soar, up, up, up and through the veil. ]