lost our faith along the way and found ourselves believing your lies | voice

[rehymenator]

[The square is busy with the usual fare; the hum of a normal Friday night crowd the first thing that can be heard over Castiel's device. Water splashes as he moves through it, kneeling down toward the center before beginning to chant -- at first just a murmur and then growing a little louder.]

--zacare ca od zamran! Odo cicle qaa! Zorge, lap zirdo noco mad...

[His blood starts to fill the pool from the cut in his hand and he slumps down a little bit, obviously straining to achieve some purpose. He's silent and still for a long moment before lifting his head again, eyes to the sky.]