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

[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?

[strangelic]

[ When Daryl rounded on him, suddenly close again, Castiel straightened like he was prepared for it to become a fight, the tension snapping across his shoulders, but he holds himself back. Daryl is just angry, scared...and right. He knows nothing about it except the weight burdening him, and if not for how close they are, how few people there were here, it wouldn't be gleaming like a beacon to him, that pain.

When Daryl sets off again, Castiel stays put, just for a moment, before coming up on him again, trailing behind now. His eyes are on the heels of Daryl's boots, watching him dodge the noisiest underbrush, and mimicking his efforts. ]

You're their leader. You didn't choose it, it came to you. If you don't believe me, then nobody will.

I am a seraph, Daryl. I can heal people, I can fight, and far more besides. But if you don't accept me, if you don't trust me, then it's all for nothing.

[dirtyredneck]

[Daryl's shoulders scrunch up at that accusation. It was true enough. He'd been taking charge. But mostly because someone needed to or most wouldn't have lasted more than a day. It still messed with his head, though, being seen as that trusted by so many he barely knew. With Glenn, and his family back home, that he understood. The trust Athena had thrown at him, that Bucky had given, that Thomas had for him to help protect Newt, that Gamora had given for her and Peter... That Castiel thought his own acceptance by all of them rode so entirely on Daryl's shoulders was just odd when the group hadn't really had any time to become something. At least nothing more than putting up with each other because they needed to.

Daryl didn't look back at the man, but he kept his volume down and his tone relatively calm.]

I believe you can heal. And fight. You waved that blade around like you know how to use it.

[Why couldn't that be enough? Asking him to believe Cas was an angel, though, that was just so much. And Daryl wasn't sure it was the kind of weight he could carry. Not after everything.]

[strangelic]

[ Castiel watches. The stress across Daryl's shoulders was hardly the first example that he'd come across. These topics were far from easy to deal with at the best of times. But after everything he'd seen here, spaceships and aliens and ruined earths far beyond his time, was an angel really too much to ask for?

Maybe. Maybe even so. Dean had taken a long time to accept what he was as well, even after everything that he'd seen. Accepting demons and vampires and ghosts was easy compared to what an angel represented. What it meant.

They weren't his secrets to tell, but he spoke about it anyway. ]

Dean didn't believe it, when I first met him. I raised him from Hell.

[ He reached out to touch Daryl's shoulder. ] Stop. [ Something was crossing their path ahead of them--perhaps an animal, perhaps something that needed to be stopped. ]

[dirtyredneck]

[Daryl stilled. His thoughts the moment he was touched went from continued skepticism and sarcasm to high alert. The skepticism was still there, of course, but it wasn't the main concern for Daryl. He shifted his weight and put a hand on his knife as he started to scan for whatever it was Castiel had seen. All instincts at current being to protect the other man.]

[strangelic]

[ Castiel was just as unnerved, keeping his shoulder turned in toward Daryl, his mind on his knife--he'd drop everything and go for it, but only if he needed to.

Which was when a raccoon skittered across the path in front of them. Just a raccoon...

Not just a raccoon.

The walker stumbled after it, hands reached out to chase its fleeing prey. It didn't notice them as it stumbled ahead, and off the other side of the path. ]

[dirtyredneck]

[Daryl's hand shot out behind him to grab Castiel by the front of his coat and hold him still. The walker was trouble, but trouble they could avoid just by waiting. As long as there was only one.

They could find that out, also by waiting. Keeping still. Daryl had no love for walkers, hated them on principle alone, as well as for what they'd done to those he cared about. But he'd also learned that it was sometimes better to just let them go and not engage. Saved energy and didn't draw unwanted attention.

If the walker was so intent on the raccoon it didn't notice them, then it was better to just let it go on. They had a rain catcher to get to, anyway.]

[strangelic]

[ Castiel stayed still too, all together agreeing with Daryl's approach. There was no point at all trying to take down the walker. They were much more likely to wake up others than kill one off peacefully.

He stayed still until the sound had passed, then laid his hand gently on Daryl's to let him know that it was alright, silence returning to the forest enough that the birdsong had started up again, before he stepped slowly forward. The rain catcher - or rather the materials for it - were just at the fork ahead, and Castiel showed Daryl into the clearing.

He'd already built up a wooden trellis partially around the outside, winding bamboo branches around the trees to block other routes into the clearing, but also to block the dead from seeing the living within.

It would get there eventually, but there was a lot of work left to do--and a lot surprisingly done, considering there was just one man at work here. ]

Before coming here, I could count the number of people who knew what I am on two hands. But you said it yourself; survival here is dependent on knowing what we can do, and what we have to offer each other.

[dirtyredneck]

[Despite himself, he felt some relief when Castiel touched his hand after the walker passed and the birds had begun to treat their presence as normal. It meant the man was paying attention, too. Though he didn't let his own hand or the hand of the other man linger for longer than necessary, he did give a quick, pat to Castiel's chest to indicate he recognized that they were once more in the clear before moving on.]

And what is you can do?

[Daryl moved to the strange wall Castiel had been building around the clearing and tested the strength of it with a relatively gentle shake. Since it was far from complete, he could step around the side to check out how well camouflaged it was, too.]

Beside the creepy ass wing thing.

[strangelic]

[ Well, that actually hurt. Those creepy ass wings were his, after all, and sure, they were pretty bedraggled after what he'd been through, his distance from Heaven. But they weren't creepy. He gave Daryl just the briefest dirty look, which he fortunately didn't see because he was ducking through the barrier. His attention was back on the ground as he quietly lay his cables down just a moment later. ]

My wings let me fly. I can come and go at will. I can smite demons, use magic, move things without touching them--the power of Heaven moves through me.

[ Castiel bent down, beginning to uncoil the wire. ]

Thank you for teaching me to use this. I would never have imagined it being such an excellent replacement for rope.

[dirtyredneck]

[The wings weren't creepy - okay, maybe a little disturbing - just the way he showed them off. That whole light and shadow thing. That was creepy.

Daryl ducked back out from the wall to look at what Castiel was doing. He frowned at it.]

Yeah it works well enough. Just make sure you cover the ends. Don't want lightning coming through and using it to light up a tree.

[He turned back to the wall and started a perimeter sweep, checking the wall every so often with a shake. Eyes glancing up to the top of it and back down.]

You do miracles, too? That's what angels are supposed to do.

[Not that he'd ever been lucky or worthy enough or whatever to see one happen. He didn't really believe in miracles anymore. Dumb luck sometimes. But not miracles.]

[strangelic]

[ Castiel grimaces, unwinding his cable a little more and then dropping it. He pushed himself back upward, looking across at Daryl again and brushing his hands off on his dirty coat. ]

I've performed miracles. And I've done terrible things, hurt thousands of people, in the name of God. I can heal people with a touch, survive being shot. I don't walk on water, if you're asking. I sink.

[ He's just saying, in case that ever actually comes up.

But what is he not saying? He's certainly not rushing to mention that in some circumstances he can read Daryl's mind. ]

I can put you to sleep, and I can enter your dreams. I can see when people aren't what they seem, and I can speak to the souls of the dead.

It's a lot, I know.

[dirtyredneck]

[Daryl stilled, shoulders stiffening. The dream thing was creepier than the wing thing. And he wasn't disbelieving that Castiel could do that. Wasn't going to risk discounting something like that.

Though if Cas was really trying to convince Daryl he was an angel...

Daryl snorted turned around to watch him.]

Do it then. Perform a miracle.

[It was a challenge as much as anything. To prove he was an angel and not just some weird guy with weird powers. Though really, Daryl wasn't ready to believe him, so any real demonstration of power would probably just get ignored or deflected as something else.]

[strangelic]

Perform a miracle?

[ He stared across at Daryl like he'd just grown a second head, which considering what he was asking wasn't entirely out of the question. His eyes crinkled, thoughtful. ]

It really doesn't work like that, and I can't imagine that you would believe anything that I did. What would satisfy you? If I turned water into wine? Perhaps I should set something on fire.

There are scars on your back. You hide them with wings of your own. What we appear to be isn't always what we are.

[dirtyredneck]

[Daryl hadn't exactly been being friendly. But he also hadn't been being overly hostile. At least not in his view of things. He was just being cautious.

The comment on his scars, though, that crossed a line into territory Daryl wasn't comfortable with.

His shoulders hunched in reflex and his head ducked in. Back got angled as away from Castiel as he could make it. As if he could hide the truth of their presence just by keeping the other man from seeing any measure of his back.

There were plenty of people that knew about them. Had seen them before he could stop them. But Castiel wasn't one of them. He hadn't been bathing anywhere the other man should have been able to see. And even then, he'd been keeping a shirt on while he got cleaned up. Just in case one of his people ran in because of an emergency. Hell, wasn't even sure Glenn knew about them. Rick, yeah, Rick probably did. Dragging his ass into the farmhouse like he had after Andrea shot him - and good lord that was a long time ago...]

How- Ain't no way you- You need to shut up about things you ain't know about.

[He gulped hard, growling the words out even as he stumbled over them.]

[strangelic]

I'm only answering your challenge, Daryl. [ He stepped closer, very carefully, around the items on the ground in front of him. ] You want me to do something that only an angel could do, or tell you something that only an angel would know.

Neither of us is what our mistakes have made us. We wear our wings and try to be better people than we think we are. We give ourselves to other people, and strive to change the things about us that we fear we might be - that we can be - at our worst, because that is how our fathers made us.

[ He shook his head quietly, and then turned his eyes away, looking toward the sky far above them. ]

But we have free will. We have choice. We can be anyone and anything we choose to be, and if you don't want me to be an angel, then I don't have to be.

[dirtyredneck]

You don't know shit.

[Daryl curled his lip, tried to make himself look bigger than he felt. But he stepped back when Castiel got closer to him. As far as he could before that wall blocked his means of escape.

He'd made a challenge he didn't think could be answered and it had been. Castiel had recognized it for what it was and had chosen a point of contention Daryl hadn't expected or even entertained as a possibility.

He didn't like feeling the way he did. Vulnerable. Weak. On uneven footing. And there wasn't much he could do about it. Short of maybe punching the guy. Which wouldn't solve anything or make him feel better, either. Something he knew from experience. There were definitely situations where punching the lights out of someone helped. But this wasn't one of them.]

Shut up and finish your stupid rain catcher. You're wasting time.

[Daryl pushed off the wall and skirted it's edge, keeping as much space as he could between himself and Castiel before he slipped out to walk the perimeter. This time from the other side.]

Yell when you're done, asshole.