10-22-2017, 09:21 PM
[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 500px; min-height: 8.5px; font-family:arial; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; color: black; padding: 20px"]✦ Castiel Novak Milton was the twin of Jimmy Novak Milton, son of Chuck Milton and Becky Novak; his sister Anna was off to become a vet, his brother Michael in the police force while his other brother Lucifer comfortably settled into his position of becoming a crooked politician. Gabriel, on the other hand, was who knows where - Castiel's third eldest brother had always been a traveler, doing odd jobs here and there while simultaneously causing trouble wherever he went. And Castiel? Well, he was a psychiatrist. He'd gotten his bachelor's degree in psychology, hauled himself into medical school, and stayed there for the next four years until applying for residency in Lawrence, Kansas, to the local hospital - "So one of those hospitals off of American Horror Story, right?" Gabriel had joked as Castiel boarded the plane, adding, "Perfect. You love crazy." - and moving in with his brother Jimmy. Claire, of course, treated him as coldly as ever. As soon as he knocked, she opened it, saw him, and closed it on his face. Amelia apologized to him sincerely as soon as she bustled her way over.
So everything was going ideally. His life was ... easy, simple; he could die doing what he loved until his hair grew grey, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
The ward he had been assigned to was an old building, sandy yellow, blue, and white as far as the eye could see - and something out of a possible horror film, if need be. Inside, it had gone through plenty of renovations and fixing over the years, and although some rooms remained so far in the past he felt like he was in another century, others were filled with fluffy white carpet and newly painted peach walls. The people inside were a different breed than the average person outside, of course: it came with the job. The doctors and nurses that moved about were queer, from Alastair with his slow, small little smiles to Crowley, with his boisterous personality and foreign dialect. Both fortunately and unfortunately for Castiel, Crowley had been chosen to oversee him during his residency there. The man reveled in this fact like it was some glorious loot. Castiel, of course, didn't see the appeal. He tolerated the man for most of the day.
It was during his escape from Crowley's clutches that he decided to explore the halls of the ward and get himself acquainted. It would only be for a short while, until Crowley inevitably found him or he managed to hide in a corner for the rest of his shift.
So everything was going ideally. His life was ... easy, simple; he could die doing what he loved until his hair grew grey, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
The ward he had been assigned to was an old building, sandy yellow, blue, and white as far as the eye could see - and something out of a possible horror film, if need be. Inside, it had gone through plenty of renovations and fixing over the years, and although some rooms remained so far in the past he felt like he was in another century, others were filled with fluffy white carpet and newly painted peach walls. The people inside were a different breed than the average person outside, of course: it came with the job. The doctors and nurses that moved about were queer, from Alastair with his slow, small little smiles to Crowley, with his boisterous personality and foreign dialect. Both fortunately and unfortunately for Castiel, Crowley had been chosen to oversee him during his residency there. The man reveled in this fact like it was some glorious loot. Castiel, of course, didn't see the appeal. He tolerated the man for most of the day.
It was during his escape from Crowley's clutches that he decided to explore the halls of the ward and get himself acquainted. It would only be for a short while, until Crowley inevitably found him or he managed to hide in a corner for the rest of his shift.