There he stood, the angel in the tan trench coat, framed by a setting desert sun as he examined a shattered lightbulb. Cecil wouldn't've believed it if he hadn't seen him with his own eyes; strong jaw, broad shoulders, grey eyes, and a light stubble. He thought to walk past, as the city council had forbidden speaking to the Angels - something about the hierarchy of heaven, it didn't really matter to Cecil (he had actually believed there were angels, of course) - but, nonetheless, he stopped short as the otherworldly being called to him.
"Excuse me," Castiel spoke, his voice carrying on the clean Nightvale air. It wasn't as though he hadn't seen the dark-skinned man before the given moment, he'd just ... Hesitated; it wasn't hard to second guess this obvious citizen of Nightvale (and not the reasonably distrusted Desert Bluffs), with his dark skin, like rich dark chocolate, and hair so white it appeared to glow, not to mention the purple sleeve tattoos which resembled tentacles. Another factor was that third eye on his forehead, which may or may not have been another tattoo - it was closed, so there was no way to tell. "Would you mind telling me what this is?"
Curiosity turned Cecil towards the angel and the broken lightbulb and he adjusted his glasses before examining the shattered light source, looking up at Castiel. He grinned facetiously. "Why, that's a glow knob, of course! It seems to have been broken though, what a darned shame. I'll bet you it was that scheming Steve Carlsberg." At this, Cas fought down a chuckle, catching onto the joke - clearly, this was not actually called a glow knob. "A glow knob," he replied jokingly, "why didn't I think of that?" Cecil nodded in mock earnest, platinum eyebrows raised in a friendly manner. "It's an honest mistake really, glow knobs are very uncommon here; we like candles in Nightvale." There seemed to be a bit of pride in his voice. Of course, Cecil was fond of his dear, sweet listeners, along with his beloved city and a certain scientist. "I'll make a mental note to get some candles then, just in case my glow knobs stop working." Cas assured him, a smile playing on his lips. Cecil chuckled, third eye sliding open as the other two slid shut momentarily. "If all else fails, the lights over Arby's are very bright, might take advantage of them ... Just don't get absorbed."
With this, Castiel looked down at the destroyed bulb, then up to Cecil. Or, over Cecil's shoulder, rather, as the afore-mentioned scientist was fast approaching. "Cecil Gershwin Palmer, I have been -" Carlos stopped beside Cecil, staring at Cas in a kind of 'who are you and why are you sat there with a fucking broken lightbulb?' way, as though it was unheard of for an angel to stand on the sidewalk with a broken lightbulb in front of Old Woman Josie's home while waiting for his demon hunter boyfriend who was actually a demon himself [which was a very, very long story. Then again, everyone in Nightvale has time.] Glasses were yet again adjusted, and then the third man was running a hand through his hair, staring at the other two in confusion.
"Carlos, this is an angel. Angel, this is Carlos." Awkward greetings and the exchange of names told the two that the angel was named Castiel, and that a man named 'Dean' was on his way. It seemed that Carlos found him a little odd, although Cecil kept an arm around his waist to prevent nervous shifting or an early leave: he intended to be good company until Cas' companion arrived, or until Cas made his own leave. It was comforting not to be completely alone in the small, bizarre town. There were quite a few strange people, he'd learned.
It didn't take long for an off-black Chevy Impala to pull up at the edge of the pavement and spit out the driver from its left side, a rather solid-looking guy with a goofy smile and mocha-colored hair. The angel seemed to relax, the scientist fidgeted vaguely, and the radio show host smiled warmly. "And you must be Dean," he chimed, "welcome to Nightvale!"
