Castiel; The Fallen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
strangelic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
oasisnetwork2016-02-24 02:16 pm
strangelic) wrote in oasisnetwork2016-02-24 02:16 pm
Entry tags:
2. voice; and action, morning of the 23rd
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. ]
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. ]
( action )
But that's all nothing. When she bounces up toward him, he freezes dead, staring for a few seconds, before his eyes narrow.
Just one thing to get out of the way first, right? ]
What are you?
( action )
It's a little jarring, honestly, though he wouldn't know that because she keeps her perfectly pleasant smile plastered on despite his inquiry. ] I'm me, of course! [ That's neither here nor there and she knows it but she's hoping that'll give him the message not to pry. This obviously isn't something Rose wants to talk about. It isn't anything she wants anyone to know, could she help it, and...
Does it matter, anyway? If she wants to help? If she just wants to be of use? ]
Is there a problem?
( action )
I know there's creatures among the survivors here. Some of them are man-eaters, others are not. But you're something, and if I don't know what then I can't guarantee your safety.
My friend is a hunter. He would have killed you without asking. It's my hope to avoid that, but to do so, I will need to speak to him on your behalf.
[ He cocks his head slightly. ] I'll speak no more about it, but if you want to work with me, I have to know.
( action )
Yet it still leaves a sour taste in her mouth when all she wants to do - has ever wanted to do - is not be seen solely as the 'monster' she was born as. 'He would have killed you without asking.' He doesn't know her, he wouldn't even try. People like him are the reason that she was captured, made to believe her life was worthless just because of what she was.
She didn't ask for this. She didn't ask to be a monster, but she had a choice not to be. That's a decision she made years ago and has stayed true to best she could because- ]
I don't tell people what I am because I don't want them to look at me as just a 'monster.' I'm not. I'm just as human as anyone else here is, and you can tell your friend that. I know he won't believe you or me, probably, but maybe he could talk to me himself someday. See that I'm not only a 'monster.'
[ Sigh. ] I'm sorry. I can't help you, if that's the case.
( action )
[ He doesn't move from where he's standing. To do so could be seen as aggressive, and he's not trying to confront her. ]
And I'm not one either, but I wouldn't call myself human, and had I not met him in the fashion I did, I imagine he would have considered me a threat too. It's how he was raised, that's all.
[ He cocks his head. ] I don't fault him for his caution--as I don't fault you your anger. So few of you choose what you become.
Please don't go. Stay, and help me.
( action )
We can go against how we were raised. [ The implied 'I did' is there. Though if anyone knows how difficult it is to fight one's upbringing, she does. It's something she still struggles with occasionally. ]
Are you sure you still want me to help? [ Rose wants to respect his wishes. She also doesn't want him to get in trouble with his friend, or... Make things more difficult for him, somehow, by not admitting what she is. ]
( action )
Castiel looks back at his piles of things and gives his head the slightest shake. ]
I can't do this alone, and it's important for all of you.
( action )
[ And maybe, just maybe, since he's being fairly reasonable... she'll compromise. ]
How about this. You tell me what you are first and I'll tell you what I am. [ He already knows she's something. Besides, Rose would by lying if she said she wasn't a little curious about what he was too. ] But! There's some conditions. [ Of course there is. ] One. Promise me you won't tell anyone else, because... Two. I don't want you, or any of the others, to look at me as anything but human.
[ Which is an... interesting request, she supposes. ]