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foolintherain) wrote2021-08-31 03:17 pm
foolintherain) wrote2021-08-31 03:17 pm
INBOX #305682
TEXT | VIDEO | AUDIO | IMAGES | EMOJIS
"I can't answer my phone right now, but you know what to do."
TEXT | VIDEO | AUDIO | IMAGES | EMOJIS
"I can't answer my phone right now, but you know what to do."
I was human. As you must know, it's very tiring.
[ Have you broken a bone yet, Sam? You will, and it will royally suck for possibly the rest of your life, unless you're lucky or some supernatural force intervenes. ...Actually, the latter seems more likely. Anyway— ]
I'm very happy to have my grace back, yes. Thank you for asking.
How are you feeling?
[ There's a lot for Sam to deal with, not only with Castiel and Dean's changes, but with the absence for however long they were impaired, the uncertain nature of this place, and of course, the state of the elder Sam. ]
[ Have you broken a bone yet, Sam? You will, and it will royally suck for possibly the rest of your life, unless you're lucky or some supernatural force intervenes. ...Actually, the latter seems more likely. Anyway— ]
I'm very happy to have my grace back, yes. Thank you for asking.
How are you feeling?
[ There's a lot for Sam to deal with, not only with Castiel and Dean's changes, but with the absence for however long they were impaired, the uncertain nature of this place, and of course, the state of the elder Sam. ]
Thank you. I'm sure you'll be seeing more of it if you're set on meeting with her
[ Like... they don't have to go see Mariana. What's Sam's soul really worth, anyway? Certainly not Dean's life. ]
[ Like... they don't have to go see Mariana. What's Sam's soul really worth, anyway? Certainly not Dean's life. ]
Yes Dean
Please reveal to me the secrets of how humans experience physical intimacy
Please reveal to me the secrets of how humans experience physical intimacy
I think it's worth a shot.
I'll...go now. Nothing else to do.
[ What's a little visit with his patron? She's a cheery sort. And, like he said - he's got nothing better to do. All he has here in Trench is time, so he'll pull on a heavy trenchcoat he bought while here, grab some leather gloves and a black knit beanie (because while the vibe here is Victorian, he is not putting on a tophat just yet).
Time to head to the ocean. ]
I'll...go now. Nothing else to do.
[ What's a little visit with his patron? She's a cheery sort. And, like he said - he's got nothing better to do. All he has here in Trench is time, so he'll pull on a heavy trenchcoat he bought while here, grab some leather gloves and a black knit beanie (because while the vibe here is Victorian, he is not putting on a tophat just yet).
Time to head to the ocean. ]
[ It was 1000% sarcasm, but Cas takes pity. ]
Actually
I do experience stimuli differently with grace rather than relying strictly on physical sensation
Actually
I do experience stimuli differently with grace rather than relying strictly on physical sensation
Alright.
[ Luckily Dean is home, which means he's easily found, and by the time he's finished dressing, Castiel is there in the doorway. Dressed... the same. He hasn't had the heart to bother changing his wardrobe, since the goo-en-ing. Let's not talk about it. ]
Are we flying or driving to the ocean?
[ Cas has a feeling he already knows the answer, but we all know which he'd prefer. ]
[ Luckily Dean is home, which means he's easily found, and by the time he's finished dressing, Castiel is there in the doorway. Dressed... the same. He hasn't had the heart to bother changing his wardrobe, since the goo-en-ing. Let's not talk about it. ]
Are we flying or driving to the ocean?
[ Cas has a feeling he already knows the answer, but we all know which he'd prefer. ]
There is no universe in which you arent good enough for me, Dean
But I've never done anything intimate in my time as an angel that wasn't with you, so...
I have no idea what it might feel like
[ He'd say the same for Dean but, well. It won't be Dean's first time railing an angel, will it. ]
But I've never done anything intimate in my time as an angel that wasn't with you, so...
I have no idea what it might feel like
[ He'd say the same for Dean but, well. It won't be Dean's first time railing an angel, will it. ]
Your soul is pure energy and your body is made of stardust
You could never be boring, Dean.
[ Even if he were without a vessel and was strictly enjoying Dean's pleasure, it would still be an ethereal experience for Cas, being with Dean. Luckily, he still has a human conduit. ]
I can feel it
And I'd very much like feel kissing you again right now, if you aren't otherwise involved plowing some other blushing virgin
[ Or, you know, getting yourself killed. ]
You could never be boring, Dean.
[ Even if he were without a vessel and was strictly enjoying Dean's pleasure, it would still be an ethereal experience for Cas, being with Dean. Luckily, he still has a human conduit. ]
I can feel it
And I'd very much like feel kissing you again right now, if you aren't otherwise involved plowing some other blushing virgin
[ Or, you know, getting yourself killed. ]
Yeah... I've got it on good authority.
[He's broken way too many bones at this age. He also happened to break his arm when he was, like, five. Starting early, this kid.]
You want a super honest answer, or the least stressful kind of answer?
[He's broken way too many bones at this age. He also happened to break his arm when he was, like, five. Starting early, this kid.]
You want a super honest answer, or the least stressful kind of answer?
[Angels are not a thing where Bolin is from, but Dean described Castiel as a spirit and Bolin knows about those so he does this the only way that makes sense to him.
He has lit a candle in the middle of his room along with some incense and a cup of fresh water. There is an apple, some rather fetching looking mushrooms and a single red spider lily placed carefully on a plate as offering.
Bolin is sitting on his knees, bent over with his hands and head touching the floor.]
Great Spirit Castiel, please hear me. Dean told me to pray to you if anything happened.. and I'm not sure if it has or not but I guess that's why I'm trying to speak to you. I've been calling him all week and he hasn't shown up to rehearsal or told anyone where he is or what he's doing...
I don't know where he lives or I would come and check on him.
Please... let me know that he's alright? I won't be mad if he's decided to drop out of the production, I'm just worried about my friend.
I, um.. okay. Okay, I'm going now. Please help yourself to these gifts.
Thank you.
He has lit a candle in the middle of his room along with some incense and a cup of fresh water. There is an apple, some rather fetching looking mushrooms and a single red spider lily placed carefully on a plate as offering.
Bolin is sitting on his knees, bent over with his hands and head touching the floor.]
Great Spirit Castiel, please hear me. Dean told me to pray to you if anything happened.. and I'm not sure if it has or not but I guess that's why I'm trying to speak to you. I've been calling him all week and he hasn't shown up to rehearsal or told anyone where he is or what he's doing...
I don't know where he lives or I would come and check on him.
Please... let me know that he's alright? I won't be mad if he's decided to drop out of the production, I'm just worried about my friend.
I, um.. okay. Okay, I'm going now. Please help yourself to these gifts.
Thank you.
[ There is a lot that Castiel needs to atone for. He used to medicate these feelings away. Before that, he would pray, and that's what he's been doing, since leaving Sam. He should feel strange praying to a different world's gods, but these ones here in Deer Country have always been friendlier than his own. He sits cross-legged in front of a very stately spruce with a desiccated black dahlia planted at its base, and he prays for Dean's safe return.
—At least he prays until he's interrupted. His eyes open and he stares at the shriveled maroon petals as he listens, and considers if it's worth responding. Word will spread. All of Dean's friends will find out eventually, through each other. Castiel's responsibility these days extends as far as the occupants in the cabin behind him, and, well... We see how well that's been going. Better to be distant and not interfere.
"I'm just worried about my friend." Castiel stars at the mass of wilted dahlia, and remembers Dean, and what Dean was like before the world ended, and now again, and how much he valued his friends, like family.
With a sigh, he stands, and in the next blink, he's standing in Bolin's room behind the plate of offerings he's made; a gust of wind from the flight blows out the candle, stirs the tail of smoke from the incense, and ruffles the leaves of the spider lily. Castiel's hands are at his side, shoulders stiff, and his voice is rough, as if from screaming or disuse, or both. He looks down at the boy kneeling before him, and the plate of food. ]
I'm sorry; I don't eat. Offerings like this are...
[ His eyes track over the red spider-lily and his head tilts slightly as he wonders if there's any such thing as coincidence. ]
...Unnecessary. But thank you.
—At least he prays until he's interrupted. His eyes open and he stares at the shriveled maroon petals as he listens, and considers if it's worth responding. Word will spread. All of Dean's friends will find out eventually, through each other. Castiel's responsibility these days extends as far as the occupants in the cabin behind him, and, well... We see how well that's been going. Better to be distant and not interfere.
"I'm just worried about my friend." Castiel stars at the mass of wilted dahlia, and remembers Dean, and what Dean was like before the world ended, and now again, and how much he valued his friends, like family.
With a sigh, he stands, and in the next blink, he's standing in Bolin's room behind the plate of offerings he's made; a gust of wind from the flight blows out the candle, stirs the tail of smoke from the incense, and ruffles the leaves of the spider lily. Castiel's hands are at his side, shoulders stiff, and his voice is rough, as if from screaming or disuse, or both. He looks down at the boy kneeling before him, and the plate of food. ]
I'm sorry; I don't eat. Offerings like this are...
[ His eyes track over the red spider-lily and his head tilts slightly as he wonders if there's any such thing as coincidence. ]
...Unnecessary. But thank you.
[Yeah Bolin just straight fucking screams and falls back on himself. He didn't know what to expect, but that sure wasn't it. when Dean said Castiel was a spirit he was expecting something a little more... spirit-y? Some little bouncy paws or.. a slow, colorful unfurling FFFHH YOU SCARED HIM.
Steady, Castiel. Steady, rock solid, unwavering in the face of reaction.
Bolin scrambles to press his head back to the floor and recover before peeking up twice and then properly sitting back on his knees. His heart is like a rabbit's. ]
Oh I um-- I'm sorry. I didn't know what your kind of spirit would like? I can make tea? Would you like tea?
Steady, Castiel. Steady, rock solid, unwavering in the face of reaction.
Bolin scrambles to press his head back to the floor and recover before peeking up twice and then properly sitting back on his knees. His heart is like a rabbit's. ]
Oh I um-- I'm sorry. I didn't know what your kind of spirit would like? I can make tea? Would you like tea?
[ Sorry, Bolin. Castiel isn't a cute spirit. At least not in this form. The paws and wings and many, many eyes are reserved for special, ethereal occasions.
Castiel at least has the decency to look apologetic instead of annoyed when Bolin falls on his ass, but he doesn't dive in to help him up, or anything. And he just said he doesn't eat, really, why would he need tea... "I could use a drink," he thinks in a kind of automatic, detached way, "Or a smoke," neither of which Bolin can or should provide. As Castiel looks at his kneeling form and thinks about Dean's ashes, his wilted flower, his smile— He decides. ]
Tea would be nice.
[ They should sit, eye to eye, for this conversation. ...And maybe a warm drink and a bit of human company might help in some small way. ]
Castiel at least has the decency to look apologetic instead of annoyed when Bolin falls on his ass, but he doesn't dive in to help him up, or anything. And he just said he doesn't eat, really, why would he need tea... "I could use a drink," he thinks in a kind of automatic, detached way, "Or a smoke," neither of which Bolin can or should provide. As Castiel looks at his kneeling form and thinks about Dean's ashes, his wilted flower, his smile— He decides. ]
Tea would be nice.
[ They should sit, eye to eye, for this conversation. ...And maybe a warm drink and a bit of human company might help in some small way. ]
[He swallows and nods, gesturing for Cas to take a seat on the floor. Because Bolin doesn't have furniture. In fact, he doesn't have much of a house, either. They are, in fact, underground. In a burrow some ten feet underneath The Raccoon Room club in Cellar Door.
The chamber is about 10ft x 10ft and juust deep enough for Bolin to stand (Sorry Castiel, you may have to hunch, Bolin isn't very tall), illuminated by three decently bright lunar lights. His bedroll lays neatly folded up against the far wall, a mix of straw mattress, disused velvet curtains from the club, and other assorted bedding he's collected. His desk, a wide plank of wood elevated about a foot off the ground on some stone, is strewn with Rocky Horror scripts, costumes and plans; and there is another 'table' with some various household tools. A pot and pan, some casks of water, his bags, clothes and some food.
There is no central fire pit, knowing that the smoke would suffocate him underground, but the first step of the stairs behind him is black with char where he has had fire and been able to feed it from the door kept open a crack. And while Bo hasn't been down there very long, it's been long enough to source and install a series of copper pipes across the ceiling and through to street level for fresh air.
It's basic and bare, but it's dry and safe from detection and attack. The pipes create a draft which isn't great but mean he can breathe, and there are a few blobs of cooled magma on the ground near his bedroll and more by his desk which is how he's been staying warm.
Which makes more sense once he picks a few pebbles out of the earthen floor, which float in the palm of his hand and rotate in a circle faster and faster until they super heat and phase change into molten lava. A burst of heat blooms from the trick and he lays the puddle on the ground with no hint of discomfort. Just an every day task for him, who moves on and fills his small pot with fresh water and tea leaves. No tea he is familiar with, distinctly Trenchian and Other, but it's decent.
Pabu, Bolin's omen, a small red ball of fluff somewhere between a red panda and a ferret, watches all of this take place from his nest on top of Bolin's bedding. Alert but docile.
Working quickly, and the water boiling in no time at all, tea is made in just a minute or two and he carefully pours a cup for Castiel and then himself with the rugged for of ceremony given by a young man who has no idea how to deal with someone like the angel he's summoned. He's trying, though. And why it all may be completely unnecessary, the effort and respect is there anyway.]
The chamber is about 10ft x 10ft and juust deep enough for Bolin to stand (Sorry Castiel, you may have to hunch, Bolin isn't very tall), illuminated by three decently bright lunar lights. His bedroll lays neatly folded up against the far wall, a mix of straw mattress, disused velvet curtains from the club, and other assorted bedding he's collected. His desk, a wide plank of wood elevated about a foot off the ground on some stone, is strewn with Rocky Horror scripts, costumes and plans; and there is another 'table' with some various household tools. A pot and pan, some casks of water, his bags, clothes and some food.
There is no central fire pit, knowing that the smoke would suffocate him underground, but the first step of the stairs behind him is black with char where he has had fire and been able to feed it from the door kept open a crack. And while Bo hasn't been down there very long, it's been long enough to source and install a series of copper pipes across the ceiling and through to street level for fresh air.
It's basic and bare, but it's dry and safe from detection and attack. The pipes create a draft which isn't great but mean he can breathe, and there are a few blobs of cooled magma on the ground near his bedroll and more by his desk which is how he's been staying warm.
Which makes more sense once he picks a few pebbles out of the earthen floor, which float in the palm of his hand and rotate in a circle faster and faster until they super heat and phase change into molten lava. A burst of heat blooms from the trick and he lays the puddle on the ground with no hint of discomfort. Just an every day task for him, who moves on and fills his small pot with fresh water and tea leaves. No tea he is familiar with, distinctly Trenchian and Other, but it's decent.
Pabu, Bolin's omen, a small red ball of fluff somewhere between a red panda and a ferret, watches all of this take place from his nest on top of Bolin's bedding. Alert but docile.
Working quickly, and the water boiling in no time at all, tea is made in just a minute or two and he carefully pours a cup for Castiel and then himself with the rugged for of ceremony given by a young man who has no idea how to deal with someone like the angel he's summoned. He's trying, though. And why it all may be completely unnecessary, the effort and respect is there anyway.]
[ It's ingenious, the way humans manage to live in even the most inhospitable of environments. This little burrow is a testament to that, Castiel decides as he looks around the room for the first time (the red panda on the bed, the real owner of the burrow perhaps? is adorable but ignored, for the moment) while the kettle is readied and the water brought to a boil.
That catches Castiel's attention: the sudden coalescing of energy where Bolin is, and there are rocks turned to heat in an impressive display of alchemy. A witch? His soul appears human (he has a soul; must be), but that's an interesting ability Castiel can't recall having seen performed by anyone before. He considers asking about it (or clarifying that he's not a spirit, exactly) but he's a little distracted by the matter at hand and very uneasy. Dean is dead, and Sam is still a problem to be concerned with, ideally before Dean returns. If Dean returns. No, when Dean returns.
Castiel gets right to the point. ]
You said you're a friend of Dean's?
That catches Castiel's attention: the sudden coalescing of energy where Bolin is, and there are rocks turned to heat in an impressive display of alchemy. A witch? His soul appears human (he has a soul; must be), but that's an interesting ability Castiel can't recall having seen performed by anyone before. He considers asking about it (or clarifying that he's not a spirit, exactly) but he's a little distracted by the matter at hand and very uneasy. Dean is dead, and Sam is still a problem to be concerned with, ideally before Dean returns. If Dean returns. No, when Dean returns.
Castiel gets right to the point. ]
You said you're a friend of Dean's?
[It's an ability Bolin has no reason to hide. He's been an earth elemental his entire life. The lava stuff didn't come until later but he's glad for it. Without a source of heat he would have frozen solid in this hole weeks ago.
A hole he shouldn't really be in, to be fair. It's a stop gap until he finds a place that feels right or in't attached to a warmblood hating landlord. He's fought with his brother about it a lot lately, so now he's staying in this hole out of spite. This is a spite hole.]
I am.
[No maybes, Dean means a lot to him. Bolin has no secrets or deceptions, he is exactly as he seems. One of those rare golden hearts.
Dean reminds him a lot of his own older brother but yells at him a lot less. Maybe a reason he feels such kinship to the man. Dean has never let him down. He's always given a helpful ear and his dedication to the show has been incredible.]
We're doing the musical together. He's never missed a rehearsal but I haven't been able to get a hold of him at all this week and that isn't like him. Is he okay?
A hole he shouldn't really be in, to be fair. It's a stop gap until he finds a place that feels right or in't attached to a warmblood hating landlord. He's fought with his brother about it a lot lately, so now he's staying in this hole out of spite. This is a spite hole.]
I am.
[No maybes, Dean means a lot to him. Bolin has no secrets or deceptions, he is exactly as he seems. One of those rare golden hearts.
Dean reminds him a lot of his own older brother but yells at him a lot less. Maybe a reason he feels such kinship to the man. Dean has never let him down. He's always given a helpful ear and his dedication to the show has been incredible.]
We're doing the musical together. He's never missed a rehearsal but I haven't been able to get a hold of him at all this week and that isn't like him. Is he okay?
[ Dean's doing a musical. Dean's never missed a rehearsal for the musical he's doing. It's such a strange statement of fact and spoken so casually that Castiel is momently caught off-guard. His eyes narrow and his mouth drops open slightly in confusion, until the question reminds him. No, Dean is not okay. The cup of hot tea is very warm in his hands. Castiel looks down at it. If he were actually a great spirit, he would look very disappointingly human in this moment. ]
No, he's— He was killed.
No, he's— He was killed.
[In all fairness Bolin has never met a spirit that looked remotely human so he has very little point of reference.
Doesn't matter, that isn't what he's focused on. Castiel's words have his stopped cold and the sudden lump in his throat makes it near impossible to force out a noise.]
W-what?
Doesn't matter, that isn't what he's focused on. Castiel's words have his stopped cold and the sudden lump in his throat makes it near impossible to force out a noise.]
W-what?
[ Castiel has processed his grief. He's held Sam accountable as he'd promised; he's scattered Dean's ashes, prayed for Dean's return and asked for forgiveness. He should be filled with calmness, dignity, and faith in God. Instead, he's filled with a roiling, ocean-like emptiness. He sees its reflection in the tea cupped between his hands. It aches, in ripples. ]
He was killed... by a man named Anakin Skywalker. His body was burned on a pyre by his brother, Sam, as is their custom, in the, uh... In the world we come from.
[ Castiel's voice sounds distant, like it belongs to someone else. Belatedly, he remembers that it does. This body isn't his, this world isn't his, but Dean— Dean was. And Dean's gone. Worried he might break it apart, shaken into atoms, Castiel sets the cup of tea gently onto an empty space on the wooden plank that serves as Bolin's desk. Very, very reluctantly, he straightens as much as the room will allow and meets Bolin's eyes. ]
I'm sorry.
He was killed... by a man named Anakin Skywalker. His body was burned on a pyre by his brother, Sam, as is their custom, in the, uh... In the world we come from.
[ Castiel's voice sounds distant, like it belongs to someone else. Belatedly, he remembers that it does. This body isn't his, this world isn't his, but Dean— Dean was. And Dean's gone. Worried he might break it apart, shaken into atoms, Castiel sets the cup of tea gently onto an empty space on the wooden plank that serves as Bolin's desk. Very, very reluctantly, he straightens as much as the room will allow and meets Bolin's eyes. ]
I'm sorry.
[Castiel commands the energy in the room so fully. Bolin can feel it now, warmblood or not. Appearances or not. There's a strength in the way the man moves, an agelessness he's seen before in the corner of Korra's eye when she thought no one was looking. Korra who's past lives all live within her. Or.. did. But that isn't the story here. It's a familiar sort of feeling, though.
Or maybe he's just feeling the weight of incredible grief. It drops through him into the ground and suddenly he feels so heavy.
Dean is dead. His body is gone. There will be no funeral. He can't even say goodbye.
The weight of it all crushes against Bolin's lungs and for a moment he isn't able to draw air. He, like his visitor, is unable to keep hold of his tea and sets it on the floor with numb fingers. Unlike Castiel, Bolin's emotions are tied to his body in an incredibly reactive way and tears are already starting to sting in his eyes. The breath he can't take buckles into a desperate gasp and he holds it with a small whine before it can develop fully.]
I'm-
[Gasp, whine. He's trying, here. Soft and emotional in the face of so many tough, closed men.]
I'm so sorry too-
Or maybe he's just feeling the weight of incredible grief. It drops through him into the ground and suddenly he feels so heavy.
Dean is dead. His body is gone. There will be no funeral. He can't even say goodbye.
The weight of it all crushes against Bolin's lungs and for a moment he isn't able to draw air. He, like his visitor, is unable to keep hold of his tea and sets it on the floor with numb fingers. Unlike Castiel, Bolin's emotions are tied to his body in an incredibly reactive way and tears are already starting to sting in his eyes. The breath he can't take buckles into a desperate gasp and he holds it with a small whine before it can develop fully.]
I'm-
[Gasp, whine. He's trying, here. Soft and emotional in the face of so many tough, closed men.]
I'm so sorry too-
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