[Well. ...that's a little mollifying, but still. A parasite, seriously. Thank god he can't hear surface thoughts right now, because otherwise his feathers would get all ruffled up again at 'nobler parasite.']
Angels are- beings of photonic energy. [So weird to explain this to someone without even incorrect information on what an angel is. The word is so ubiquitous on Earth that even those who don't believe in their existence still know what they are, across all religions.] Divine photonic energy. I'm unable to interact safely with mortals in my true form, so I have to inhabit a mortal body when I walk the Earth.
[ Jiaoqiu frowns thoughtfully, taking that in. Divine photonic energy is certainly a new one, though it makes sense. The body that he inhabits is a shell for his true form, like a hermit crab, and that's why it registers no brain activity when scanned βΈ» his real brain activity would be within his true form. ]
I confess, I'm not entirely certain if this technology can even work with beings made of light and energy. Hmm. This may present a problem.
[ Jiaoqiu lays a hand on the control panel, but doesn't use it, merely taps it thoughtfully. He wants to ask all sorts of questions ranging from are you a god to what wavelength do you exist in, but those can perhaps come later. ]
This mortal body, can it get injured or sick? Can your true form get injured or sick?
[Jiaoqiu could honestly do whatever he wanted with the machine and Castiel wouldn't lift a finger to stop him. The man has had ample opportunity to lie, cheat, or otherwise do anything dishonest, and instead he's volunteered his time to come to the medical wing (at what looked like a cost, given by the pinched expression and the way he'd sunk into that chair) to try and help Castiel figure out how to use the machines.
There's obviously something wrong, some kind of history that's keeping him from practicing medicine, something that stole his senses and his energy and inflicted these lasting wounds on him- and yet. Here he is.
So, yes. Castiel trusts him. And he's sure, if he had his angelic senses and sight, he'd still trust him.]
The mortal body can be wounded and fall ill, but won't stay that way when I'm at full power. I heal wounds and cleanse maladies instantly just by virtue of my occupation. [He cranes his neck to see if Jiaoqiu is touching anything in particular, or just fidgeting.] My true form can be affected by certain weapons or curses, but they're difficult to come by. Angels were built to be soldiers and weapons; it wouldn't do to make them vulnerable to much.
I see. [ Jiaoqiu pauses, thoughtful. ] I ask because I'd like to know what needs to be done in the event of you getting injured. If someone like me gets hurt or sick, the treatment is very simple. But I suspect the Hosts will have no idea what to do if an entity made of light and energy gets hurt. And to be frank, neither would I. And I don't like not knowing how to treat someone.
[ By the way Castiel mentioned being at full power, he clearly has divine powers that have been muted by coming here, much like Jiaoqiu's fire magic and his Foxian senses.
He also doesn't like the way he said he was... built to be a weapon. It makes his heart ache quietly in the same way as decades past, seeing kids too young be sent into the battlefield, seeing older soldiers that smile and shrug and admit they don't know how to do anything else. He hates the concept of a person existing only for war, hates it with a fierceness he has to bite back and swallow down.
Jiaoqiu leans back, away from the console. He'd love to flick through its scans, but the holographic display is lost on him. ]
[Castiel lays there still, unmoving, hands still folded over his stomach and ankles crossed in imitation of the Foxian's own position in the other bed moments ago, and stares. What to do if he's injured?
It takes a moment for him to reply.] If I'm wounded, I'll recover with time. Unless I die. ...there likely isn't a treatment that would save me if I was wounded severely enough to threaten my life.
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Angels are- beings of photonic energy. [So weird to explain this to someone without even incorrect information on what an angel is. The word is so ubiquitous on Earth that even those who don't believe in their existence still know what they are, across all religions.] Divine photonic energy. I'm unable to interact safely with mortals in my true form, so I have to inhabit a mortal body when I walk the Earth.
no subject
I confess, I'm not entirely certain if this technology can even work with beings made of light and energy. Hmm. This may present a problem.
[ Jiaoqiu lays a hand on the control panel, but doesn't use it, merely taps it thoughtfully. He wants to ask all sorts of questions ranging from are you a god to what wavelength do you exist in, but those can perhaps come later. ]
This mortal body, can it get injured or sick? Can your true form get injured or sick?
no subject
There's obviously something wrong, some kind of history that's keeping him from practicing medicine, something that stole his senses and his energy and inflicted these lasting wounds on him- and yet. Here he is.
So, yes. Castiel trusts him. And he's sure, if he had his angelic senses and sight, he'd still trust him.]
The mortal body can be wounded and fall ill, but won't stay that way when I'm at full power. I heal wounds and cleanse maladies instantly just by virtue of my occupation. [He cranes his neck to see if Jiaoqiu is touching anything in particular, or just fidgeting.] My true form can be affected by certain weapons or curses, but they're difficult to come by. Angels were built to be soldiers and weapons; it wouldn't do to make them vulnerable to much.
no subject
[ By the way Castiel mentioned being at full power, he clearly has divine powers that have been muted by coming here, much like Jiaoqiu's fire magic and his Foxian senses.
He also doesn't like the way he said he was... built to be a weapon. It makes his heart ache quietly in the same way as decades past, seeing kids too young be sent into the battlefield, seeing older soldiers that smile and shrug and admit they don't know how to do anything else. He hates the concept of a person existing only for war, hates it with a fierceness he has to bite back and swallow down.
Jiaoqiu leans back, away from the console. He'd love to flick through its scans, but the holographic display is lost on him. ]
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It takes a moment for him to reply.] If I'm wounded, I'll recover with time. Unless I die. ...there likely isn't a treatment that would save me if I was wounded severely enough to threaten my life.