driftfleet | .oo1 / video + action

Entry tags:

.oo1 / video + action

Who: Castiel (the cool one),
Broadcast: Fleetwide.
Action: The Marsiva
When: January 20th, late morning.

[ waking up confused isn't necessarily anything particularly new for castiel, but generally speaking in that case he's usually hungover, and when the fog clears he's in his bed, somewhere safe and familiar, not somewhere, well - like this. immediately he's alert and awake, feeling under his pillow for a knife that isn't there, sharp, instinctual panic burgeoning in his gut, but he controls it. you better bet he's got no idea he's being watched, too.

it's peaceful. this place reminds him of heaven, with its clean, sleek design and cool, quiet atmosphere, but he doesn't trust it any more than he trusts heaven. tense and wary, one hand flies immediately to his throat, then he's pulling it back to look at is as if he's expecting to see something there, but it's clean, and when he tugs up his shirt there's no blood there either, no bullet holes, no gaping wounds, only the same old scars. castiel stands, runs both hands through his unkempt hair, and eases in a steadying breath. he's a rangy looking thing, with a lean, hungry look about him, overgrown scruff and hair but hey - at least he's clean. cleaner than he's been in a long while. and someone did him the service of mending the long worn holes in his jeans and canvas jacket so that's.. nice. i guess.

all right, inventory first. his knife and handgun are both missing, naturally, but that doesn't mean he has to be happy about it. sitting again on the edge of his bunk, in his pockets he finds a mostly full pack of cigarettes with two joints stuffed in with them, a blue plastic bic lighter, a half bottle of pills, a two month old supply list, creased and folded, and a bottlecap. not too much of use when it comes to keeping yourself alive. exhaling in a puff of air, he stuffs it all back into his pockets, even the list and the bottlecap, and gets to his feet again. might as well pick around, right?

and by pick around i mean find the cafeteria almost instantly and gawp in awe at all of the food. ]

.. you're kidding me.

[ when you live in a world where things like toilet paper are scarce treasures, you really learn to appreciate food. there is zero hesitation before cas is all but diving at it like a man starved, picking at everything indiscriminately, eating and drinking and eating some more. he doesn't sit, only hovers near the counters like a buzzard over roadkill, and you'd better bet he's filling his pockets, too, with everything and anything he can fit.

all right, so maybe this isn't so bad. he should probably be wary of the food and all, but it's far too late for that. feel free to stumble across him/interrupt him at any point, he has no idea he's on candid camera. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Don't.

[ the word is sharp, quick, and cas raises both hands, palm-out toward the feed, eyes averted at last. he doesn't want to hear it. can't hear it. he's sorry, too. he's been sorry for five long years, sorry that billions of people are dead because he'd chosen wrong, because he'd screwed up, too. even if sam hadn't said yes, that wouldn't have stopped the virus. that wouldn't have kept the people of earth from slaughtering one another, sick and diseased or worse, over supplies, and panic.

lucifer would have exhausted vessel after vessel, burned through bodies like fire over dry grass, with no one to stand in his way. without dean to say yes, without sam being able to overcome his influence, without castiel making wrong decision after wrong decision - it's not any one man's fault. it's all of their faults. and sam? this one, right here? ]

You did it. You don't get to apologize. You overcame him, Sam, that's what matters.

[ and cas, as sick and embittered as he is about his own end.. he's not going to discount that. can't bring himself to. ]

Don't be sorry for me. I'm just.. glad it worked out.

Yeah. Well. One of me let you down somewhere out there. Somewhere down the line.

[But of course Sam just exudes genuineness and blame for himself. Sam cares too much about everything, especially things he couldn't control or have any knowledge of — that's always kind of been his problem. He blamed himself for Jess, for Dean going to hell, for the Apocalypse and for what he did soulless; you bet your left asscheek he'll blame himself for this too. Even just a little. Still there.

Though, Sam tries to crush the thought of causing the Apocalypse out of his head. he's been in a better place, mentally. Since the church, anyway. Since Castiel had told him he has worth enough to not kill himself over what happened with the Trials and Kevin. He kind of is slowly coming to terms, that there are intricate mechanics to the cage opening. Small steps forward.]

Couldn't have done it without you guys, though. It was a close call. Literally had a few seconds to spare to even make the leap, honestly... Angels are tough bastards.

[Says the guy wrassling spiritually with satan.]

Stupid question, but... You gonna be okay?

Sure, and somewhere out there, I was a cat, and you were a dog, and Dean preferred cake over pie. You can't get caught up in the what-ifs, Sam.

[ it's enough to drive anyone crazy. and honestly? he doesn't want that, for sam. it's bad enough that he failed his own sam, somewhere along the line, bad enough that he hadn't tried harder to get him back, to prevent everything that happened - this sam, right here, he did the thing right. he kicked its ass, and went down fighting for it, saved the whole damn world, he's not allowed to regret what a different sam did in a different timeline. this cross - it's cas's to bear, and he's not going to let anyone take that weight off of him, not going to let anyone else carry it, least of all someone who succeeded, help or no help.

then of course sam has to be good enough to ask if he's going to be okay, to which castiel just laughs, though it's a mirthless sound, thin and throaty, and he leans to snag the pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, lighting one up without hesitation. what he really needs is a stiff goddamned drink, but it's just going to have to do. ]

You don't have to worry about that, and you don't have to worry about me.

[ taking a deep drag, cas pops his booted feet up onto the chair next to him and leans back. sure, it's evasive, but what else is he meant to say? no, i'm not. i'm never gonna be okay. but i'm going to keep on going, anyway. he's not going to lie, because despite it all, he's still too honest for his own good, still not much of a liar. ]

You just said it, right? Angels are tough bastards.

[Well, he sure the hell isn't going to tell you about how angels are doing in his timeline, okay. Instead he just smiles — a bit sadly, because he wears that ache well enough. He's too spiritually old for a human being, to do any less.]

Of course I'd worry about you, man. We're friends in any timeline; it's what we do.

Besides, angels also get into hot water sometimes, too.

[... Also he's been a dog before. But he'll just let you feel you won that one.]

Hey, Sam...?

... Ah. Shit.

I forgot to private, didn't I?

[He was too surprised to even think about that. Silly him. He doesn't seem too upset by the idea, but he's already kind of bummed out by this... entire conversation anyway, so there's a sort of defeat sigh to his reply. What a dumb oversight.]

Mmm. [Sam's pretty open about a lot of things, but there are some people on the fleet Nami doesn't trust, so.

...yeah, the contents of this she may bring up some other time.] Figured I'd give you a heads up just in case.

I appreciate it.

It's a little bit of a curve ball.

No kidding.

[Teasing lightly. She hesitates.]

You want to talk about it later, I'll be around.

[She doesn't expect him to tbh, but just in case.]

I know.

[You're always around, just in case, and he appreciates it.]

I'm sure it's gonna be okay. Just more Castiels for me to keep an eye on.

[ yeah sam, please wait until he's reasonably high and/or drunk to start whipping out things like dog sam on him. i mean.. it's not like he hasn't seen weirder shit at home anyway, but still. he's not medicated enough for that right now.

sam calling him a friend, though - that hits somewhere deep. because sam.. he and sam.. well, they never really had the chance to be anything but allies, didn't have the opportunity to work past any issues before the world went down the drain, and while he'd had his doubts about sam when they'd first met, he'd always been a little sore about the missed opportunity.

because cas has changed. he's got a hell of a lot more regrets than he'd ever had years ago, and not reaching out to sam.. that's definitely one of them. especially considering all that occurred. considering how his reality might have been entirely different if he'd taken the time to find him, to drag dean along kicking and screaming if need be. but he's learned that lesson. if sam, this sam wants to do the friend thing.. he's not going to turn it down. even if he's reasonably sure that he isn't worth the effort sam's bothering to put out.

but second chances, and all that. whatever's gone on between them in the past, right now, sam is being genuine. ]

All right, fair enough. [ he says, amiably, exhaling smoke through his nose. ] But I'll manage. I've made it this far, and this place? [ vague gesture. ] Hell of a lot better than home, so.

[Yeah, well. You're his homie back home. That's all that Sam really needs.

He sighs out his nose, running a hand over the crown of his head.]

I can imagine. You dealt with... the Croats, I'm guessing?

[That was another hurdle they successfully got over.]

... Are you alright with talking about any of it? Home, I mean. I get if you'd rather not.

[ of course sam wants to talk about it.

it's nostalgic, a bit, and strange. cas has been around dean so long that he's all but forgotten what it's like to ever talk about anything, because you know as well as he does, sam, that that's not really dean's schtick. and a bad end future? sure didn't do him any favors in that department.

but if sam just wants to talk flat details.. i mean, it's fine. cas hesitates for a moment, brow creased. ]

And demons, yeah. [ a beat. ] What do you want to know?

[He doesn't want to know, okay. But he also does. You know how it is.]

All depends on what you're willing to talk about... Things are rough back home, but your troubles kind of takes precedance over mine. I figured... y'know. Since I'm here, I'm more than willing to listen. I don't know; talking to a friend from another timeline is kind of new to me.

Is... Dean alright? Is there some kind of... place put up? An area where anyone's station, or something?

[As you can see, his Dean didn't... tell him anything.

Ha.]

... Maybe there's something we can do. Help with your timeline.

[ talking about things and talking about things are different.

castiel can rattle off bullet points. he can go to that numb place inside himself and give sam a rundown of the events that led up to the utter destruction of everything he'd known and loved, and it won't be easy, but he can manage. compartmentalize the pain, the same way he has to when they plan out a mission, or dive into a nest of demons or crotes. but going into all that sticky nonsense about feelings.. that's another road entirely.

but for the most part, sam's asking questions that have easy enough answers, all nice and objective. ]

There were quarantine zones, yeah. We were in a safe camp. Or, you know, safe as we could manage. Dean's been there the whole time. Chuck, too. And Bobby, until.. [ gesture. his eyes flick down, then back up again. ] .. other refugees, too.

[ real nice of dean not to tell you a damned thing, sam, but i mean, that guy's a jerk. cas loves him, but he's a jerk. super jerk, where he comes from. once sam's talking about helping, though, castiel's quickly shaking his head, taking another long drag. ]

That's a nice offer, Sam, but.. not gonna happen. We're uh -- [ a beat. ] -- there's nothing to be done. You've got your own time to be worried about.

[Then Bobby had died in their world, too. He tries not to let it knot him up too much, or put a lump in his throat. It wasn't so long ago that he contacted Bobby in Heaven. That Bobby gave his blessing. But then Cas is quick to turn down the help, and...

He frowns, getting that determined sort of look to his face he's get a penchant for. Not quite the same grim determination to save his brother from Hell, because he's learned that nothing is so straightforward or plausible from his time at home, but... But — ]

Look... I'm not saying that it's a guarantee. It's not, and I wouldn't want you to think like that, because the way these places work are mostly unfair. But... the last place I was stuck in... a lot of people made it out of there. Could go to other worlds, or travel back home to fix what was happening there.

...

Just — keep it in your mind as a possibility, okay? If we get out of here, too, I'll make sure you get somewhere. Safe.

Besides, you're one of the only friends I've been able to keep back home.

Won't hurt for me to focus on helping.

Edited 2016-01-23 08:02 (UTC)

[ cas is quiet. he's given sam the truth, of course, but he hasn't given him all of it, because how do you tell a guy that there's no going back? it's over, for him. god might have brought him back once, but cas won't count on it happening again. god is gone. the angels, too. he's got nothing left to go back for, and dean had gone off to shoot the devil.

it was their endgame. he knows it. he'd known it the moment he'd agreed to that stupid plan to begin with, known it the moment he'd followed the order to go into that abandoned sanitarium knowing full well he wouldn't be walking out of it again. either lucifer's dead, or dean's dead, and either way cas is dead, so this place? it's the best he's got. there's no fixing anything, it's so bad there, everything's a mess, not without the hand of god could they hope to set anything right again.

but sam is so damned optimistic. cas sits forward with elbows on his knees, dragging a hand slow over his face. he's tired. ]

.. all right.

[ he says, even if he doesn't feel it. even if it makes his heart heavy. sam just wants to help, and even if it's impossible, hopeless, cas can't not let him try. ]

We'll do what we can.

[You know Sam, Cas. He has to try. Maybe that's what your Sam tried to do - or maybe that optimism crumbled and kept deteriorating after he opened the Cage; after Lucifer prodded at his brain. Sam doesn't want to think about it. He knows he's been weak before, so dreaming up scenarios won't be hard.

But that's not him. He'd never say yes.

... Dean knew that, once, and that's what almost irrevocably destroyed their relationship. It cut deeper than his brother will ever understand. Live and learn. Forgive but can't forget, in the furthest dark corner of his mind.

He's nervous Cas will go off on him about that faith and hope - slight though it is, and Sam wouldn't blame him. Whenever he's from is bad. Being told there's any hope for salvation, even by their own hands... It's hard to imagine. But Sam did see it happen. It's not blind. He breathes out, nodding with the slightest smile.]

Alright. Alright then.

Well, I mean... I've tortured you enough thinking about that. Did you,,, have any questions of your own? Blanket statement, applies to whatever.

[ there's a clear break in the tension one sam finally relents, and cas exhales in a sigh that's slow and long, his shoulders easing into a slouch, the tightness in his expression going slack and comfortable. he drags from the cigarette again, the knot in his belly loosening a little.

it's a lie, of course - or well, not a lie, but certainly an empty promise to placate sam, but it'll hold, it'll do. false hope is better than no hope at all, a statement he'd never thought he'd buy into until he felt it for himself, just how cold and terrible true hopelessness really feels. ]

Tons, probably.

[ he says, and shrugs. ]

But I'll be damned if I can think of them all right now. Maybe I'll compile a list. How long have you been here?

[These are easy questions; he can handle these.]

Not very long. Over a month? Two? Before this, though, I was in a pirate world. And before that, a bunch of us fell into a universe where spirits kept us under their thumb. I've been getting pretty used to showing up anywhere but home, honestly.

[ up go the eyebrows. ]

Sounds like you've been pretty busy. [ pirate sam... ] Who knew this sort of thing was so.. common.

[He scoffs.]

Very busy. Considering our usual luck, I'm not surprised we're getting swept into other worlds.

I've also visited a dimension where you, me, Dean — we're all played by actors, and it's a show. Your name was, uh. Misha? It was a confusing time. Maybe more confusing than any of this, honestly.

Space is new, at least. They're mixing it up.

Misha?

[ he's pulling a face. what kind of name is that? humans are so weird.

anyway, he shakes his head and shrugs it off. ]

Well, here's hoping we can make the best of it, I suppose. I've always enjoyed the view from up here, anyway. The cosmos is a pretty beautiful place.

[Humans are super weird, totally.]

Yeah... They are. Have you seen out the window there yet?

It's a pretty good view.

[He enjoyed it a lot, when he was waiting for his fleet shuffling.]

You're among good people. Well, mostly good.

It can be a little chaotic, but... nothing you can't handle.

Yeah, I have. It's not bad.

[ high praise coming from, you know, an angel who can traverse spacetime at will. or a former angel. you get it. either way, he's enjoying the view for sure, and it's not like there's much else to do up here beyond eating food and staring into space. ]

I can do chaotic. [ a brief pause. ] Though it depends on what you mean by that. They took my guns and my blade.

.oo1 / video + action

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[fancy. he had no idea that was even a thing. whoops.]

[it's all about privacy in ~space~]

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