2. voice; and action, morning of the 23rd

[strangelic]

I've been scavenging plastic, electric wire and sheet tin from the buildings around the hotel. I believe I have enough, now, to build freshwater stills to collect rainwater, but this should be done below the jungle canopy to prove most effective. If anyone should want to help, I would be grateful for the company.

Furthermore, Daryl, I-- [ Hesitation. ] I'm very grateful for your generosity, but there's really no need to include me in your rationing in the future. Dean says to thank you on his behalf.

[ There's another long, thoughtful sort of pause, almost as though Castiel is considering disconnecting, before he presses on with his address: ]

The hotel rooftop has new residents. Please try to avoid killing them, they're only doing what God made them to do. [ So...mentioning that the new residents are bees might have been useful, right? ]


Action; feel free to join him at any point during the process, or post your own unrelated starters:

1. [ In the morning, before the sun has risen too high, and the thick jungle humidity has had a chance to dig its teeth in, Castiel makes his post and begins to gather up his supplies, moving them between the hotel and the gate. He doesn't experiment with his flight, which is still somewhat iffy, so instead the back and forth is a trial, a kind of drudgery that feels pure, a kind of repentance in its own way.

His pieces of scavenged material aren't all perfect; some of the pieces of tin are split, or made of a single pair of rungs, shattered from falling into the buildings that he'd taken them from. Some of the pieces of plastic are frayed in places. But the rain is daily, and reliable, and there's enough surface that most of the water should find itself in the still.

Once he's done moving the gear out toward the gate, he heads out into the forest to be certain that the area he chooses isn't littered with bodies before he begins. He picks out the tiniest clearing, with just a spotlight of sun coming in from above at the height of the afternoon. The tall, well grown trees, and the widowmaker leaning across the center of the clearing, provide plenty of flexibility toward engineering the stills, places to tie on the corners with the strong, load bearing electrical wire.

Work is always speedier with help. ]

2. [ That evening, Castiel is grateful to get back to the city. It's tiring - for everyone but Castiel himself, obviously - and despite care to keep quiet, not draw the attention of the walkers, it hasn't been an uneventful day. But there will be fresh water, now, clean rather than tasting of boiled lake, for anyone who needs it. It's a good thing to accomplish, makes him feel useful somehow, as though he has room to make up for...well, for being what he is.

He lingers at the gates for a short while, keeping a watch on the treeline, before returning to the rooftop of the hotel to check on his bees, and to watch the sun set. He can be spoken to, or sat with, at any time after his return. ]

Comments

[dirtyredneck]

[The whole point of having Maya take the damn meat to those two was so Daryl didn't have to talk to either of them himself. Or acknowledge that he'd made sure the two were still eating same as everyone else. The less interaction the better. But the stupid man had to go and call him out about it and try to be some martyr on the eating front. And what the hell was it with new residents?

He didn't bother keeping the annoyance and ire from his tone, but wasn't yelling.]

How many new mouths we feeding? And shut up about the food I gave you. Everyone's gotta eat and everyone gets a share.

[strangelic]

You misunderstand. Not being human, I don't eat.

[ Look, angel or not that has to take the pressure off, right? Unless Daryl thinks he's lying about that too. He seems uncertain about the other question. ] What were you saying about new mouths?

[dirtyredneck]

[Everything eats.]

Even the dead eat, Sunshine. You saying you're deader than them? And you said there more people with you. They some of ours that drifted in or did I miss another crash?

[strangelic]

The specifics would be difficult to explain, but this body is a vessel; I possess it, by permission of its former resident.

[ Who is actually dead on account of archangels turning him into mist. Semantics. ]

I don't drink, sleep or defecate either. [ Important information, obviously. ] --And I didn't say anything about more people. I would have noticed if I had.

[dirtyredneck]

[Okay, so all that with the vessel was creepy. But first...]

Then who the hell is living with you now if they ain't people?

[strangelic]

Well, I don't know about Newt and Thomas, but... My companions are bees.

[ His tone says "Oh, wasn't I clear?" ]

[dirtyredneck]

[Did you just make a joke at Newt and Thomas' expense there, buddy?]

Bees.

....

Then they ain't 'residents'! They're bees!

[strangelic]

[ He would never make a joke at Newt and Thomas' expense. ]

Their home is here, that makes them residents. [ A pause. ] If you're very kind to them, they may even give you honey. [ Read 'don't screw with my bees and I may give you honey'. ]

[dirtyredneck]

[Fuck. Honey was useful. Not just for how tasty it was, either.

He takes an audible deep breath and lets it out. Attempts to speak in an even tone.]

Then the next time you pick up some new 'residents' you say what they are if they ain't people.

[strangelic]

I... Yes. I can do that.

[ Though what sorts of animals he may adopt from the forest is still very much up in the air. ]

The bees won't be needing any rations either.

[dirtyredneck]

I know that!

[Terse and with a concentrated effort not to yell it.]

[strangelic]

[ A pause. He can almost hear that, because let's face it he has practice hearing restrained anger. ] Of course you did. Bees don't eat venison; that's ridiculous. Well, except for when they have trouble getting iron into their diet, in which case I'm certain they would consider it as a reasonable alternative.

What I mean to say is... I apologize for the confusion.

[ There's a longer pause now, because Castiel isn't sure how to bring this up, but after what seems like forever with his comm open he says: ]

I want to speak to you, but I don't... I don't want a confrontation. If we could be somewhere quiet, where we could just talk. Could we?

[dirtyredneck]

[He wasn't really sure he wanted to. But if he was leading the group (and he had pretty much walked into that, hadn't he?) he had to make some sacrifices of personal comfort. He knew that from having been on the Prison Council. This wasn't much different, all in all. Save that he only really had Glenn to consult with. And maybe that Padme woman. Would need to talk to her.

Shit fucking sucked.

Daryl took a couple deep breaths, let them out long and slow before replying in a much calmer tone. Gruff, still, but calm.]

Ain't gonna promise nothing I can't do. Depends on what's said.

[He was willing to talk. He just couldn't promise it wouldn't turn into a confrontation. But he was willing.]

[strangelic]

[ Castiel is quiet again. To anyone listening to this conversation it probably sounds like a competition in who can be quiet for the longest time without the other person quitting on them.

Confrontation is what he fears most of all, considering what he's capable of, and what other people are capable of. ]

I'll have to pass through the gates several times, during the day. Perhaps you'd accompany me into the forest.

[ Because being alone with him isn't going to be a problem, right, considering Daryl thinks he's barking mad and quite possibly dangerous... Oblivious angel is oblivious. ]

[dirtyredneck]

[He was talking about getting help with the stills. Which Daryl thought was a stupid thing to do. They could just put buckets on the roofs and catch rain that way. Or boil the lake water. Both were perfectly good options that didn't require heading out into the forest once a day for fucking water. Fucker was making things too complicated.]

I got some stuff to do out there. Guess I could walk with you.

[Honest enough. He did have some plants he wanted to search out. If he happened to do most of the searching where the idiot was setting his raincatchers up at and could keep an eye out for walkers... well, Daryl could probably live with the coincidence.]

[strangelic]

[ Well forgive him, he's new to this whole survival thing. And he has a thing against people drinking lake water. A hang up, you could say. Besides, both things are labor intensive, and you can't do everything, Daryl--you're just one man.

And the forest isn't that big and scary. It's a forest full of dead things, yes, but killing dead things in a forest is what they do. ]

I'll be there shortly, then.

[dirtyredneck]

[he can damn well try! /huffs like a five year old]

Whatever.

[Guess he knew what he was doing now. Right now. Had to get his shit together, though.]

Be there in a half hour.

[strangelic]

[ Really, Daryl? A half hour? It's very fortunate that he's an angel and can track the passing of time almost to the second, otherwise he'd point out that he doesn't have a watch.

But he makes a soft noise of assent before turning off his radio, and a half hour later - after one previous trip out in the meantime - he's back again, this time with two rolls of electrical wire tucked under his left arm, leaving his right free.

He stops beside the gate, and just stands there, seemingly as though he has nowhere else to be, looking up at the gathering clouds. ]

[dirtyredneck]

[He doesn't have a watch either, Cas. He (and everyone else in his family) has just gotten that good at telling time anymore. Kind of a necessity.

Daryl was on time, too. If a hair later than Cas. Backpack thrown over his shoulder and ready for the trek. When he got to the other man's side, he side-eyed him, and waited.]

[strangelic]

[ It's magic, really. Castiel would have never have believed it, given his understanding of human reliance on technology. But here they go.

He doesn't say anything at once, until they're out past the gates, and even then his voice is soft, senses stretched to pay close attention to the brush around them. If he heard a sound, or sensed movement, he'd fall still instantly. The clearing he's chosen would be spitting distance away from the gate, if not for how thick the trees were, pressed up against the city walls. It wouldn't do to build his stills too far out, after all.

But they're on their way when he speaks. ]

I never knew our Father, [ He says. ] But I was--my kind were never made with any question of our faith. That's a privilege only humanity has; to decide whether or not it believes. Believe me, there isn't anyone who questions God's design more than me. After everything we've fought, everything I've done, I questioned. I doubted. But unlike you I can never say "God is not real". I cannot close my eyes to the truth that if this world is this way, it's because He wished it to be.

I almost envy you that. There have been times I have.

[dirtyredneck]

He ain't my father. My father was a fucking asshole from the Georgia hills! And he's dead! Your father can go hang himself.

[Daryl spat it out, hissing the words so his voice didn't get too loud.]

You know the last preacher I met let his whole flock get eaten? Locked the doors of the church and sat there listening to their screams because he was too scared to let them in?

[Man was scared. Daryl understood that. Gabriel had walked with them. He was with them. But it was still disgusting to think about. Even if Daryl couldn't say he wouldn't have done the same. Once. Merle definitely would have, and for a long time, Daryl hadn't stood up and fought Merle's decisions.

But none of that mattered at the moment. He just wanted to lash out.]

Some father you have. He promised the dead would rise. Yeah. "And the dead will be raised incorruptible, and we will be changed." That came true. He didn't say nothing about the change being them eating us.

[Daryl knew his bible. Same as his brother had. Memorized a lot of it when he was young. Remembered the most ironic shit after things went to hell. And even if he didn't really believe Castiel, he still had a lot of anger boiling in him over it. Anger that had never really gotten an outlet before.

He didn't address the free will thing. He had too much bottled up to care about giving Cas that measure of humanity and consideration just yet.]

[strangelic]

[ Gabriel had been scared, yes. And Daryl was a little bit scared now; that was why he clung to his anger so fiercely. The thing was, Castiel knew the type. Dean was exactly the same. Just as Daryl wore wings over his scars, Dean hid his under laughter.

But hearing about the church was one thing - terrible enough in itself. It was no wonder that Daryl distrusted him, with faith alone to blame for that suspicion. If one man of God could do that... He dropped his eyes, watching his own feet, the forest floor, carefully avoiding making a sound on any broken sticks.

The verse he chose, too. He could see why verse like that would come to mean something so poignant, so powerfully dreadful.

Castiel paused in his step for a moment - just a moment - and then stepped ahead again, catching up with Daryl's cautious stride. ]

I'm no preacher, [ He said, softly. ] I'm not even welcome in Heaven any more. As for prophecies, you shouldn't take them at face value. Prophets aren't always aware of all the subtleties, and some of them...embellish.

[ But none of that is going to get Daryl on his side, especially, or make him rush to believe in him. ]

The bible also says that the sins of the fathers should be visited on their sons, and their sons, and their son's sons. [ The slightest glance. It's a little confrontational, and he's afraid of addressing it. ] But it simply isn't true. Each man is weighed by his own iniquity, no one else's.

[dirtyredneck]

[Castiel's repetition of the sins of the father bit had Daryl's shoulders tightening. Asshole couldn't know about what that might mean to him, though. He was using it as an example for the iniquity bullshit.]

Guess that means you think everyone's been weighing down the sinful side of the scales, then. Since all we be given is hell on Earth.

[Daryl turned to look at him, lip curling up in disgust, before he put his eyes back where they needed to be. What even was the point of this whole conversation? To convince Daryl Castiel really was an Angel? To make a believer out of him? Make him want to proselytize for the Lord that abandoned the world?]

You know how many good people I seen die? People that didn't deserve any of this? And the people here. You think Athena deserves this shit? Are the iniquity of her sins really heavy enough after two weeks of being a living, breathing, person to drag her into this?

[Because in wasn't really his own sins he cared about making up for. Above all, everything he did was to protect his people. To see them alive. And in his eyes, not one of them deserved any of what they'd been through.]

[strangelic]

[ He tips his head away, pursing his lips in a way that was him desperately trying not to scowl too hard. Even if scowling was really his default expression. ]

Perhaps it is punishment, for some of us. Do you know how many I've seen die, Daryl? How much of that suffering I've been responsible for? [ He asked, tersely. ] I was at Sodom and Gomorrah.

But for as much as we wish punishment on ourselves... [ Deep breath, because it's a touchy subject for Castiel too. ] As much as we wish punishment on ourselves for what we've seen and what we've done, this isn't Hell. As much as we feel we deserve it, we endure for others, because they do not. For Athena. For your family. Your choices lead you to their side. You don't fight for them to redeem yourself, but... Perhaps it happens anyway.

You may not believe it, Daryl, but you are not an iniquitous man; neither by your sin or your father's--or your brother's. Not for all the people you've seen die, nor all those you've given their peace.

[ He keeps talking as he walks, not pausing, no matter the details. ]

[dirtyredneck]

You shut up about them.

[Daryl turned on his heel, to get in Castiel's face, fists clenched at his sides.]

You don't know nothing about my life. Or my brother's life. Or anyone else. Or anything that I ain't told you, so don't you go acting like you do.

[He sucked in a shuddering breath before snapping his head up and listening. He'd been a little loud with that, despite effort not to be.

Not hearing anything out of the ordinary, Daryl leaned back and started walking again. Though he hadn't promised that it wouldn't be a confrontation, he didn't actually hold any desire to make it one. Especially not out in the forest.]

What's the point of this? What is it you want?