Action - Marsiva(ish)

[angelofthevored]

Who: Loki (dothelokimotion); Thor (rebuildyourruins); Kaworu (paraclete); Eizen (rockily); Castiel (angelofthevored)
Broadcast: Nada
Action: A transport ship >> Marsiva (outer space) to do some junk
When: Sometime during the weekend of 5/18

[It's a ship full of dumb immortal assholes who are not only tired of sitting around, but are fundamentally sorta bad at it.

Except for Kaworu, primordial stoner. And Loki, provided there's some community theater to behold.]

Comments

[paraclete]

It's like coming home, [Kaworu remarks, the further he pushes through the tar of this dread. He may be out here in pajamas, but his countenance now is one of a boy on a battleship. He has his own hull, it seems like. He will crest any wave.

Well, maybe his face does look that way, and maybe he does keep going, but the headache is seeping into him like pitch. It's the sort of thing that can blot out joy. It would harm his lungs if his lungs mattered to him.

His eyelashes flutter while he sighs, and he looks half a child soldier and half just a kid. Then he says,] It's really unfortunate, right? [and holds out his right hand. His fingers are lax before they spread to show his palm. He sweeps his arm swiftly, and there's so much instantaneous light. It stutters out like a crackle before explosions rattle through the space ahead. Big globes of light and some cross-shaped streaks flutter around. When they dissipate...

Kaworu frowns enough for it to matter.]

I'd like to go closer.

[Despite his pallor appearing even more deathly than usual.]

[angelofthevored]

[Castiel hasn't done much attacking himself; between the two gods and Kaworu he's kind of outclassed, especially without a strong, clear connection to Heaven from which to draw power. Instead he's putting himself to use flitting about, keeping watch on the Marsiva for any movement. It helps, checking in with his men; helps keep him grounded, helps him focus through the dread that wrenches at a gut he doesn't currently have.

Whatever Kaworu wields isn't Grace, though it's pretty damn close to it, so Cas waits for the worst of it to fade before he comes streaming over, all compressed photons humming and thrumming in too-small a space so he doesn't dwarf any of the others. At least there aren't that many other molecules to get in the way here.

He reaches out with his Voice to Kaworu, whispers tripping over each other to be heard.]

Iͬtͭ ͑̓geͦͤͧ́̍́t͗͒̇͒͋sͤ͏ w̑ͤoȓ̌̂̓sͥ̿̍͂ͤͮ͐eͪ̍ ̎͑̀ȧ̏sͨ̾̈͂ͤ̍ ͝y̢̒̏͐o͛ͤuͬ̾ ̄͑̕g̉͐̍̒͛ͯet̨ ͩ̃̏͗̄c͌l̛̑ò̵sͭ̀eͮ̈́ͣ̋ͩrͣ.ͫͩ͑ͭ

[Yeah don't think he missed that tension. You're practically translucent, dude.]

[paraclete]

[Is it weird to sigh? With relief? That's what Kaworu does when the glow of an angel comes winding round to him. His shoulders drop just enough to indicate they were ever tense in the first place. The sigh is a thin one, and his smile is rueful. So are his eyes. So is the laugh he flutters out, so bare a breath that the vacuum of space consumes it immediately.]

I figured as much.

[His laugh was a physical thing; his response is not. He meets Castiel's Voice in the middle—he's adept enough with the metaphysical. His soul is very gentle in speaking directly to Castiel's essence.]

I'd like to go regardless. [Or because of?] It seems like an important thing.

[angelofthevored]

[Kaworu answering in such an angelic way makes Castiel so sick for home that the dread seems to sink further. It's as much a comfort as it is a reminder of what he'll never have again, so he withdraws just a little. Sorry, buddy.]

I ̊͡hͥ̄̌̏ͬ̈̓ȃ̵̈́̈veͯ͒̓̂ͨ͌̍͞ ͒̾̂ͫ̈̚ýêͨ̄͒̔͆͋t̵ͮ̍ ͛ͣtͤͭ̉͊o̍ ͡f͐ͪ͑ͭ̊ͭͫiͬͭ̋̾͗́̈͠n̵ͧd̢̎̿ ̀̀a͛ ̌͂ͣ̒ẃͦͪ̽͆a̸͛͆ͨ̈͂̈́yͣͧ ̌ͣͩ̉͛͌͋i̿̈ͫnͣ̋́̐̐̅ͫ͢s̓͐̋ͮͮi̅̽͐ͨ͡d̀ͭ̿e.͛͋̓̾ ͌̐ͥ̎ͯ͌͏ ̑ͣ̔͂̚Sͮo͑̉̈́m̡̂ͪͣ̽e͛ͧ͗͋͋̎ͧ́ ̾͊̏̉͊ͣ̓k̿ͩͣ͐̄ī̈̓̿͌͐̅n̈̈d̨ͩ̎ ́̾ͪ͡o̶͊ͨͥ͂ͧ̀̔f̡̒̒ ̄͊͐̈́͆w̶̉ͬ͐̃͑ͨ̚aͦ̅̚r̾͗͂di͒̓̆ͫn̛ͣ̏̃ͫ̓g̏͋ r̈́͗͐̓̔ͫ͡e͊ͧͭ̆͗p̓̍͛̾̚el̋s̉ ̡̏̒m͋ȅ̐.ͬ̆ͬ͌̃͑̚͜"
[Maybe Kaworu will have better luck, but with a physical body how much better could his luck be? Cas is photons and he can't even squeeze through the glass.]