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. ]
no subject
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.]
no subject
[ 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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
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.
no subject
[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.