oasisnetwork | 02: Ground Rules (Backdated to the 19th)

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02: Ground Rules (Backdated to the 19th)

[[ooc: Backdated to shortly after this mess with Newt gets resolved and they're back inside the Gates.]

All ya'll talking shit about how we all gotta work together 'cause we're stuck here together best listen the hell up. You want to work together? FINE. First you gotta to is tell the rest of us what hell you can do. No more fucking surprises like some seven foot leopard man!

The only way to pool our goddamn resources are if we know what the fuck they are! And if you can do shit like that, then it's a goddamn resource!

I don't care where the hell you picked to hole your asses up, but if you're gonna talk to me and everyone else about how we should kum-by-fucking-ya, then you best be offering up your skills so we can take full advantage of them.

And don't make runs outside the walls alone no more without telling someone where the hell you're gonna be so we know to keep an eye on you! Hell, I don't even go hunting without telling Glenn I'll be out! You got people to rely on so rely on them!

Fucking hell, people!

[Daryl's angry because he cares. And he hates that he cares.]

[[ooc: open to action if anyone wants to be near him while he's making this rant]]

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Tell me about it.

But you've gotta cut him some slack, he doesn't exactly have people skills.

Neither of you are giving me a reason to cut anything but his throat the next time I see him!

You just go ahead and see how well that goes.

Don't encourage him. He just doesn't understand, that's no reason to start a fight.

And he's not gonna at the rate you're going.

SO ONE OF YOU TWO START GIVING SOME STRAIGHT FUCKING ANSWERS!

Dean, it's fine, I'll tell him. It's better that way.

I'm not one of you. I'm an--

[ Don't mind the sudden static he just got punched in the side of the head. ]

[ ....... ahem. Apologies for having to take down Cas there, but desperate times. ]

You wanna chat about this, we do it in person. Not that I got a problem with cell phones but I got a problem with these. Then Jimmy here can spill his beans.

I'm at the Gates.

[And at that, Daryl's going to turn off his earpiece to give himself a moment to calm the fuck down and deal with whatever Bucky's on about.]

[ Castiel isn't sure about any of this, not at all, but it is better than what just happened on the radio thing - which he hates, by the way. He tidies himself up a little, sort of patting his hair down which is all askew after his altercation with Dean, and rolls down the sleeves of his bedraggled coat. It's a good look, he's rocking it.

But he approaches the gates with trepidation, from the inside, not sure what he ought to be expecting when he gets there. Best to see this through.

He expects to be seen before he gets there, so he doesn't call out. Besides, too much noise has a way of waking the Walkers up. ]

That's far enough.

[Daryl called out as spotted Castiel and Dean, standing up from where he'd been sitting next to Athena. He approached at a swift walk, drawing his knife so it was ready. He changed his path when he got within a couple yards of the two. Started pacing slowly back and forth across a five foot span that let him stay firmly between the two and the people behind him.]

Talk.

[ Castiel tips his head to look back at Dean, then glances across at Athena. The blade is...threatening, which is why he doesn't automatically launch into the who wings thing. Standing stoic, ready, he raises his hand as though it will stay Daryl in his pacing, or Dean, who looks ready to jump forward and defend his honor in person. ]

My name isn't Jimmy, it's Castiel. I am-- [ He makes eye contact, firmly. ] I am an Angel of the Lord.

[ Because that's going to go down better than everything else. ]

[Daryl's pacing pauses only once: when Cas claims, quiet confidently, to be an angel. Just for a moment. Daryl's eyes squinting harder at the man, studying him, judging how honest that statement was.

He grunted.]

Uh huh.

[And then he was back to pacing.]

Prove it.

[ Cas waved a hand behind him to still Dean. They'd discussed this. There really was only way to prove himself, to Daryl and anyone else watching from the barricade beyond them.

So it's then that he tips his head upward, eyes brightening with such shining, opalescent blue, that it casts the shadows of his ragged wings around him. They're as beaten looking as he is, but what can you expect?

Still, it's very impressive. Possibly. ]

Do you still wish to beat the truth out of me?

[He'd followed Daryl after the rant, wanting to have his brother's back if anything went down outside of words. It was the way these things worked. He'd kept his silence, let Daryl have his say - because he agreed with it. Maybe he'd have worded it differently, but there it was. So, there Glenn stood, then. At Daryl's back, but off to the side. Watching carefully; fingers curled around the handle of his knife should he need to use it. He'd been told about this guy, Jimmy who was now calling himself Castiel. None of it sounded good, not one little thing - and now here he was, giving another name and the... the... ]

What in the actual fuck?

[Whispered and completely not cool with what he was seeing, even if he'd seen shit he couldn't explain already. Plenty of it. But this? No. Just. No.]

[Daryl stilled in his walking. Took a step back and put himself relatively even with Glenn. His chin lifted and he just stared for a moment. Until Glenn's words cut into his head and registered. The disbelief helped him ground himself.

The look of uncertainty, worry, fear, the confusion of emotions that had played out over his face evaporated. He was back to his firm glare. He had to be for Glenn's sake, if not his own.

He snorted, acted unimpressed.]

Nice light show.

[Daryl tipped his head to catch Dean's eyes.]

You were talking about him being insane? But how he got better? Think he might have relapsed.

[ This was his favorite part. The part where shit always went south, the part where you got called crazy or jumped up on something strong. There's a reason you don't go around telling people that you're a hunter or you're a goddamn angel and it's because nobody actually believes. There's something utterly destructive about it, like watching your whole being get taken apart, get called a lie. And really, there just isn't a good enough reason to tell the truth when you know for a fact it isn't going to be believed.

Dean just looks stern throughout the whole thing, vaguely bored. He's seen all of this before, heard it all before, and now the best he can do is look uninterested in Cas' display. He does, however, just barely manage to keep his annoyance in check. ]

Nope, this'd be about as honest as he's been since we got here. He's an angel, born and bred. Just be glad he didn't bring any of his brothers here with him.

[ Because really, then all manner of horribleness would ensue. There's a few perks to just getting Castiel as a singular package without the rest of Heaven's army and yet... Dean has no reason to go ahead explaining that one. Not to mention, he's still not altogether interested in detailing out how he knows an angel, since this is Castiel's story and not his. But it's likely he'll get there. Eventually. Probably. ]

I wasn't born, [ He corrects, immediately. ] I was made; forged by God to protect humanity.

[ He begins with his tone low to address Dean alone, but raises it toward the end, turning his head back to look at Glenn and Daryl each in turn. They don't believe him--or they fear, and disbelief is a defense mechanism, that's closer to the truth. It's how Dean had responded to him, too, in the very beginning, and so he is grateful that the hunter is there, his "family", the only one he can depend upon to fight for him if everything else goes wrong.

His eyes narrow pointedly as he looks at Daryl, and he takes two steps forward, despite the fact that he'd been told to stay put just a moment before. His very human blue gaze is inscrutable. ]

I told you that you would not believe me, even though you insisted that I prove myself. I was not wrong. Your doubt is not my fault, or responsibility. It is a flaw cut into you by your own tired and shaken faith.

[Daryl jumped back at the approach the same as he had at the fuel station. It happened without thought. Arms spreading to his sides to keep his body lines open, keep them from being trapped against his side in case Castiel reached for him. He didn't even realized he'd flinched, head jerking away, shoulder's scrunching up. Expecting to be lashed out at. Castiel's current confidence of presence was triggering every old muscle memory Daryl had of his father's temper, the bottle, and the belt that came after.

He caught himself after Cas stopped and started berating him for his disbelief. His chest heaved at little at a suddenly thundering heart. He barely heard what was being said. But he got his head together enough to understand it after a moment.

He'd raged loudly over the earpieces, spit fire into his words. That wasn't the anger he presented now. That had just been him getting it out of his system. The safest way he knew how. A way that didn't involve hurting people.

When he wanted to hurt someone he dropped into a cold fury. It was one filled with fear (for his friends, for himself), worry (for those he had to keep alive), the need to protect (everyone that relied on him). Daryl brought that up now, closed the distance between them. He reached out to grab Castiel by the front of his coat and pull him in so he could growl into his face, voice quiet but not nearly calm enough.]

I believe you believe what you're saying. And that your friend, believes you. But that don't mean it's the truth. It don't mean it's real. So you can stop your fucking preaching because the choir checked out a long time ago and the corpses of the congregation's been eating them for years.

[Glenn wasn't sure exactly what to think or feel. There were a lot of different emotions running through him at the moment, and his eyes were locked on Castiel until Daryl moved back; his body language saying so much. Glenn immediately went forward, protective stance something he couldn't help. He was overwhelmed, but he was also worried for his friend. The wish for a gun was almost too much for him, but there was a part of him which told him to try to keep his cool, keep his calm. Instinct, even if he didn't want to listen. There was fear, yes. There was a lot of disbelief, too. He found himself about to speak, but Daryl recovered and was moving forward then; taking hold of the guy who claimed to be an 'angel of the lord'. Where the hell had that shit been for the last while? Where the hell indeed? They'd been living in terror and pain, and in constant and consistent loss. The whole world had been - and now they were here. In the presence of an 'angel'. Bullshit. He felt himself shaking, his eyes narrowed and locked on Castiel as Daryl took hold of him. Again he was silent; trying to process, trying to get it - but all the while? He stood ready.]

[ Castiel wasn't...great with the confrontation. Certainly not in being grabbed and held onto, gripped with the kind of ferocity and intent that in Purgatory would have had him flaring up with his grace as a weapon, driving the soul out of the creature that was attacking him. He'd been running for so long now, without pause, and when it did come to a fight it was like this, a confrontation that he couldn't escape without violence.

It was only the feeling of Daryl's soul, his friend's beside him, and Dean, a figure of strength and reassurance at his back, ready to fight for him if it ever got beyond a point where Castiel could handle it on his own, that made him conscientious enough not to either teleport himself away and keep running, or turn his strength on Daryl. He was just human--he was afraid, and his life, his father, his brother, the walkers, his family since...everything had tested him.

He lowered his voice to complete softness, so only Daryl would hear him. ]

When do you accept that something is real? Your intentions and your fear contradict each other. You claim you want the best for your group, but you delay accepting the truth because it frightens you.

I am real.

[ He's not going to push any more than that, but he turns his head, looking across at Glenn, who he addresses: ] What were you going to say?

[He kept his eyes locked on Castiel, not knowing what he said to Daryl; which made him curious but didn't help on that matter of trust or belief. In fact, belief was hard for Glenn; at least where the angelic was concerned. His mind kept going back to everything he'd witnessed, everything he'd experienced. Everything lost. Everyone gone; perished, sometimes to arise so they could try to eat their remaining loved ones. If he'd had struggles with believing in God before, a lot of what he and Daryl had lived through had put the final nail in the coffin of religious belief. And there this guy was, with a crowbar shaped like angel wings. How could that be a trick? A trick of light? There was too much shit floating around for it to be an illusion, unless there was even more that Glenn didn't have the answer to.

Go figure.

He kept his silence for a moment, though his eyes remained locked on Castiel. His jaw clenched, relaxed a little bit.]

That this is complete bullshit. I'm thinking exactly what Daryl said; you might think you are, your friend might think you are - but you are not. There is no damn way.

[Athena had been quiet during the exchange so far. She knew that Daryl was close to snapping and didn't want to set him off by getting in too close to a situation he perceived as dangerous for her. When Castiel attempted to prove himself though, she moved to stand up and didn't hesitate in walking in close enough that she could attempt to reach out and futilely try to touch at the shadow wings that had showed themselves.]

It doesn't matter.

[Her tone is flat. Controlled, so she didn't let it show that she was becoming angry at the adults for so much fighting.]

You were made, you have powers and mannerisms that regular people don't understand. Even still, you're real.

[She felt an overwhelming surge of compassion for Castiel at that moment. Empathy wasn't something she ever had been able to possess before arriving here and now she couldn't control the emotion that putting herself in his shoes made her feel. Her head turned and she looked to Daryl. She was almost pleading with him now.]

Just as real as I am.

[She just wasn't sure if angels were scientifically able to exist.]

[Goddamn it, Athena. ~~you moved your comment~~

Daryl's gaze remained on Castiel's, but his body was shaking. Hard eyes blinking and unsure. Not at Castiel's words, but at Athena's.

(She'd been made. A doll or a puppet or something that was meant to look human but wasn't real. Turned real when she got here. Just starting to feel. Looked at Daryl like he was made of gold and the wings on his back weren't as dirty as the mountains he'd grown up in. Like they was as heavenly as the man he was holding claimed to be. Gave him hope when it was hard to hold onto. She was hurt by this. He'd hurt her. He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't know how not to. He wasn't worth what she was giving him with those eyes and that trust. All he was doing was tarnishing the light inside her.)

He sucked in a breath, hand tightening for a long moment before he broke the gaze and dropped his head. He stepped back, hand still fisted in Castiel's coat. It took him another few seconds to suck in a few breaths and relax his hand enough that he could unclench his fingers. Whether he liked it or not, he needed the physical connection of touching Cas on the chest. The literal, physical support. He was shaking too much.

When he did let his hand drop, he swayed just a bit. Drained from everything that had happened. Still, he was shaking his head. Trying to get moisture to a dry mouth as he croaked out his words.]

Didn't say he weren't real.

[Daryl's voice, though cracking some, was very gentle. Pleading almost. Trying to make his words as much as an apology as anything else.]

But he ain't an angel. He cain't be.

Edited 2016-02-21 02:09 (UTC)

[ It was a lot for him to deal with, all this conflict and emotion. Once upon a time, he'd have been able to hold his head up just fine, face down accusations that he wasn't real without batting an eyelid. He doesn't need to prove himself to them, shouldn't need to, except that after a week, this small group of survivors wasn't going anywhere, and the world around them was only becoming more hostile.

Between Athena's empathy, and Glenn's doubt, Castiel found himself at the center of a storm of emotion and doubt. It was overwhelming. Even with Dean's strong, protective presence behind him, it made him falter just a little, his eyelids dropping and opening again, blinking twice in rapid succession. His expression transformed from stern and defiant to soft and urgent. Daryl's desperation - "He can't be" - touched him more than anything else. He was so very afraid. His life, such as it was, couldn't lead to this moment, because of what it would mean about the moments that came before. His Father had a lot to answer for.

So when Daryl wobbled, Castiel raised his hand very carefully to rest it against his elbow, ready to catch him if he fell. ]

I know why you struggle to believe it. You don't have to, not for my sake, but you should for the sake of your people. [ He tips his head again, very slightly forward, so that the deep furrowing of his brow only looks deeper, more sincere. ] This isn't how I wanted things to be. Dean... [ He glances over his shoulder. ] He deserves to be around people, even if you wish to exile me.

[ Because obviously that was a solution. But Castiel knows exile, Castiel deserves it, and that's why he brings it up as a possibility at all. ]

I can fight. I can heal. I can look after myself.

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action;

action;

action;

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//slides in if that's cool//

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