Inbox for deerington

[heraldingangel]

TEXT || AUDIO || VIDEO || ACTION || PRAYER

Prayer: Cas can hear prayers from anywhere. Feel free to call on him anytime and he'll show up.

Comments

butt-dail, since this thread is now game canon

[sinnabon]

[ if Cas wants to be listening in, he did get a buttdail while Jack and Sam were talking about him in the car. ]

Assbutt Thread

[heraldingangel]

Got it! I’ll wait till they’ve had a chance to finish their talk and swoop in when they swoop in like a fairy!

text; un: s.winchester

[fathertoson]

Hey, Cas.

What do you know about nephilim powers?

[ No, he's not panicking at all. ]

[heraldingangel]

Sam?

a typed buttdial?????

[sinnabon]

lol idefk

[heraldingangel]

Tagged!

prayer; middle of the night before the event, no reply necessary

[righteously]

Hey... Cas, it's me. Listen, I just-

[ A beat. ]

I just wanted to say sorry, for... you know. Hitting you with the news like that. I knew it wasn't gonna do any good, and it... I shouldn't have dropped that bomb on you. You don't need to be carrying that around. For what it's worth, we um... Well, you pull through it and you do the best you can to fix it.

God knows I wouldn't be around still if it weren't for you saving my ass later on down the road over and over again, so...

[ A long pause, the clearing of a throat. ]

So, that's it I guess. If you need anything... you know where I'll be.

[heraldingangel]

Resolution.

[ ooc; for tracking purposes! ]

text;

[righteously]

okay fine

[heraldingangel]

Dean?

merry crimmas;

[wiseass]

[a handmade journal cover from leather/hyde that can be adapted to any books, with some notepads in a single box.

the card says: for what you find out. notes on deerington. and on the first page is a single, drawing.]

[thenovice]

how does one explain the mind set of medievil men to moddern people???

[heraldingangel]

[ First of all. What is THAT?! Why are animals depicted carrying out human warfare? Second, why is there a head of a man on a snail? Third. Why is that rabbit staring at him??? Is this a curse of some kind? Is he being cursed right now? ]

Is this some kind of spell?

text; un: dw79 ( october event check-in )

[ruined]

tell me you're still in one piece

text; un: castiel

[heraldingangel]

Dean?

Are you safe? Where are you?

text; un: winchester

[perfectantidote]

[ He's written a version of this message every single day since his arrival. Never sent it. Good practice for the device, though. Cas has had precious little exposure to technology and convenience - by the time it would have become relevant the world had already, as he likes to echo Dean, gone to shit.

It's not quite clicked for him yet, the window to the outside world this device can be here, while Dean refuses to tell him anything at all about the world he's been washed into - tripped up on sending Cas to his death, missing the point that Cas chose to follow that order, and as a result unwilling to give Cas anything to work with, lest he be a fool and step outside will still healing from the remnants of the wounds that killed him, and that weren't quite gone upon arrival here.

And then finally, one day, the restless boredom of a soldier without purpose and without point wins over the part of him that is trying to spare himself the pain of connecting to a version of himself that holds the grace gone from the hollow carcass of his own form, in which his ribcage feels like a prison and the spaces where his trueform and his wings should rest feel like a festering, rotten wound.

He sends the message. ]

this is riding on the assumption that dean informed you of the inconvenient fact of my existence in this place, but i wonder about the metaphysical implications of our parallel existence here.

signed: yourself

text; un: castiel

[heraldingangel]

[ The name sinks between his ribs cutting straight through him. His thoughts cease and for a harrowing moment, he thinks it's another Dean arriving in this place. Swallowing thickly, he reads through the message discovering the folly of his thoughts with every word. Not Dean, but himself from another timeline.

Muscles loosen and he lets himself take a moment to settle his thoughts. Unlike many of God's creations angels were equipped to handle time-travel. The idea of meeting another version of himself while unexpected was not impossible. In truth, it was a lot less stressful than meeting another version of Dean. Castiel dreaded it each time. But another version of himself? Who thought like him, viewed the world like him. Who understood him to his core. It was soothing.

Should be.

Flexing his fingers, he recalls his blunder of their first meeting. Of how Dean had to filter the news of his arrival in the aftermath. Uprooting the uncertainty taking hold, Castiel focuses on the direct message instead. No filter this time. Turning the words over with a fresh mind, his thoughts stay with a disturbing sentiment lurking behind the simple message. ]

You're not an inconvenience.

[ He states, first and foremost. ]

Dean informed me of your arrival. I didn't mean to intrude on you. I thought you were someone I used to know. I won't make that mistake again.

As for the implications, that depends on what you mean. You exist. I exist. The world still stands.

Signed: Castiel

[prayer] into [action] | Somewhere between Oct 25 and 26

[perfectantidote]

[ Cas is sitting on Dean's bed, hunched over and leaning forwards. He's wearing jeans, but his feet are bare, and so is his torso. His very visible tattoo of antlers like broken wing stumps on bony shoulder blades keeps bleeding into his shirts otherwise. Dean's shirts, rather. They're on loan, until things go back to normal.

There's a "normal", here. Apparently.

It's been... hours, Cas thinks, since Skye's visit. Since he went to the site of Dean's death, to bear witness.

Hours since he started crying, and Cas thinks he may never stop now that it's started. What does it matter that Dean will be back, when his death still means Cas has lost the last thing he had left to lose, however briefly.

It's such a painfully mortal thing, sitting in his chest and clenching too tight, making it so hard to breathe. It's what he gets, Cas thinks, for not numbing it all away more, for not embracing the temporary oblivion of wine and pills. They're... not what he once, right now, for once in his miserable, chronically painful existence.

it doesn't mean he wants to feel this pain, though, because he cannot parse it, cannot handle it. It rolls over him in waves, and like the shore Cas erodes bit by bit under the onslaught. Whenever he thinks that surely, surely his body has nothing more to give, his eyes just flood again, and he can't take it anymore. ]

Please.

[ He says it out loud in the silence of Dean's bedroom, a small and broken sound he barely gets through clenched teeth. Cas is tired, oh so very tired, and oh so very broken in body, mind and spirit at this very moment. And for once, there is an out other than his usual ones.

For once, perhaps he can just speak his pain and know it will be heard. So somewhere in the labyrinthine hallays of a carcass that was once grace and glory and is now a festering rot in a prison of flesh and bone never meant to house this sort of pain, somewhere in there, Cas grasps for the broken, ruined shards of his sense of self, of his faith. ]

Please, Castiel.

[heraldingangel]

[ Prayer.

Faith turned tangible. Self-actualized into something real. Audible. A link to a soul through time and space. His name, clear as a bell, rings in his ears and Castiel resonates with its source pinpointing their location.

Surprise, quick and fleeting, shoots through him when he finds the source. Castiel. The one from Dean's world. But, why? Why pray to him? Then another thought -

In one word, he'd answered the question he never asked.

Faith.

He never would have heard him if he didn't believe, at least somewhat. It brings a sense of peace to him. Worry had begun to sink into his thoughts with the way their last conversation ended. Assuming, he'd pushed too much, Castiel didn't expect to hear from his brother again, not without a reason.

His mind stills at the thought and he re-examines the prayer. Please. A plea. Nothing more. No request, only a broken word to accompany his name. Perturbed, he slams down his wings and disappears to answer his prayer.

Traversing through time, allows him to reach him a second after he's finished uttering his name, landing at the end of the bed. It's the first time he's been in Dean's home as himself and not some warped version brought on by missing memories and perversions of the town.

The first thing he notices is the state of... him. It's a shock to his senses. No longer an imagined brother, but sitting there in naked truth. It stuns him for a moment, but not enough to forget his place or the broken appeal that summoned him in the first place. ]

... Brother?

text; un: dw79 | fwd-dated to NOV 4th

[ruined]

[ It takes a while for him to work out what to say, but eventually he settles with: ]

hey cas. you make it through october in one piece?

[ Consider this an 'I'm back from being dead' text, Cas. ]

[heraldingangel]

[ Castiel stares at the message and feels a resounding ache stretch across his chest making his lungs constrict. Swallowing the knot of contention stuck in his throat, he remembers the message he received from his brother at the beginning of the month. The one telling him Dean was alive. Grateful, Castiel had felt the twisted knots in his stomach begin to loosen at the news. That was several days ago, so seeing a message from Dean now leaves him breathless and a little unsettled. Why was he asking him if he was in one piece? He wasn't the one who died. Did he think he would? ]

I'm in one piece.

[ Why else contact him? ]

Are you?

action | prayer

[kalesalad]

( Sam remembers how long it took Castiel to get a handle on technology. He will answer a phone, when he can, or check messages, when he remembers to, but there is one tried and true way of getting Cas to hear you. He tries to discount all the times Cas decided to stay away, whether from Heaven's interference, or because he was missing, or off on his own. Cas always had his reasons.

Towering over the dark green chaise in their living room, Sam has pushed some of the busier accoutrements away. To say their house has character is an understatement. It's also neither here nor there.

He peers up at the ceiling and around him, as if he's not the only presence there.

(Yeah, he's pretty sure this house is haunted.) )

Uh, I haven't done this in a long time, but that's because you've been so close and you -- answer your messages now. But, uh. Cas, if you can hear me. We should talk. Nobody's hurt or, needing help here but, I need to see you.

text; un: castiel

[heraldingangel]

[ It's been a week and in that time that tendril of power that once barely anchored him inside his vessel stirs with life. It's enough to catch the prayer hurtling through the wind, stopping him short.

Sam.

His head turns up to the sky, listening to the familiar voice. His prayers were always long, ambling before he got to the point. It's familiar. The prayer. Sam. It stirs up memories of the past. Behind him, pools of black stretch wide as if they could take flight. They can't. He doesn't have enough in him to reach him, and even if he could, he has no way of finding him. Not with the sigils still etched into his ribs. With only one option left to him in his current condition, he reaches for his pocket, gripping the Fluid between his palm and slides it out.

It takes him a few minutes to find him. At least, he thinks it's him. It's a guess, but it seems his long explanations finally served a purpose. You answer your messages now. Or rather, one day he would. One day he'd be close to them they wouldn't need to pray. The thought warms a feeling long-dormant, stirring it to life, and he pulls up the contact he's been hovering over. ]

Sam. This is Castiel.

Did you pray to me?

text. un: jack (a few days pre-event)

[progeny]

Castiel? Are you busy?

text: un; castiel

[heraldingangel]

What is it?

text. un: jack (apparently i'm just going to keep hitting up this inbox)

[progeny]

I need to tell you something.

Don't be mad.

[well, technically there are two, very different things. but one is significantly worse than the other. so it all depends on just how castiel reacts]

text; un: castiel (it's like early x-mas :) )

[heraldingangel]

[ Dont' be mad? Black wings pull in tight, ready to uncoil at a moment's notice as he searches for Jack through town bracing himself for the worst. ]

What's wrong?

dreamwalkin with your broooo

[endoftheverse]

[Later, if Castiel decides to reach out to Sam... or, hell, if he decides to find Lucifer through Sam, it's easy enough to find the archangel. Just wait until the night falls, and hope that Sam Winchester isn't pulling another 24 hours wide awake.

Sam himself is in the distance of the dream, entirely unaware of Castiel's arrival. Unaware of anything, really — he sits with his back against a tree, and he looks younger, more fresh-faced; 19 or 20 years old, beside a girl with lovely blond hair who is lying her head against his stomach, his hand clasped in hers.

Lovers, considering a future together.]

If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're being a real peeping tom here, Castiel.

[The voice comes from behind him. As the angel stands in a pleasant Californian field with the state poppies in bloom, Lucifer is just a few feet separate, looking more like himself as Castiel would know him best — as 'Nick'. He's watching the uninterrupted scene while he bites his thumbnail.]

It never lasts long, but what I'm not so cruel that I'd interrupt a moment of reprieve.

[After all, he cares a lot about Sam. He'd love for him to be happy.

Someday, anyway.

After Lucifer's done with whatever he wants to do, first.]

[heraldingangel]

[ Made aware of his brother's activities by both Jack and Dean, Castiel takes it upon himself to find him. A task that proves easier than he first expected. In the cobwebs of Sam's dreams, he finds the first traces of angelic power. Faint but impossible to miss. Starting at the outer edges, he makes his way through the dream that weaves seamlessly into half-blurred scenes ready to take off at a moment's notice. None sharpen at his approach, they're not there for him. Near the center of woven threads, a scene comes into focus. It's Sam and Jessica. The scene holds the couple captive, caught in the tranquility of the moment, and off to the side, along the rim, stands - ]

Lucifer.

[ Blue eyes settle on the archangel wearing the vessel most familiar to him. Somehow, it's easier to face than Sam's likeness, but his mouth still thins into a grim line. Confronting an archangel has never ended well for him, yet he stands firm near the edge of the dream. The threads that hold the scene together hang loosely but firm bringing a sense of peace to the sleeping soul. A peace he has no intention of breaking. ]

We need to talk.

Sometime Around Christmas Day

[endoftheverse]

[Castiel will find some gifts left at his doorstep, neatly wrapped.

Inside, a collection of ties, and a small robotic butterfly in a jar.

The handwritten note that comes along with it reads:

If you're gonna wear a tie, might as well collect them, right?
Thought the butterfly was nice on the eyes. It's solar powered, so leave it in the sun.

There's no name attached; Sam would hate for Castiel to feel like he owes him anything in return, so...]




[Merry Christmas, angel bud.]

Action; no reply; December 24th

[borntolove]

[Left outside the house is a dark blue basket. Inside is an associate of tea, chocolates, a box of lemon drops, a bottle of wine and a copy of Charles Dickens, Christmas Carol. A blue Tardis-shaped card attached to the basket says, 'Santa' in silver marker.]

[heraldingangel]

IC Response Here!

[progeny]

[with christmas explained to him already, jack had gotten fully onboard with the holiday, excitedly helping dean decorate the house. sure, his own portion of the tree is a mess in comparison, but he's still proud of his work. even more so when, on christmas eve, he adds another present to the slowly growing collection beneath the tree.

it's another bag, the one he brought the gift home in, with castiel's name written clearly on the front. inside sits a mug, complete with a tie curled up inside it. and while it's not technically part of the present, there's also a friend chilling out on the top of the tree. sam mentioned there should be an angel, so clearly the bee is sitting in for castiel.

and yes, in the lead up to christmas, jack will have invited castiel to join them. because the holiday is for family, and castiel will always be his.]

On the 25th

[perfectantidote]

[ It's delievered by Charis, that distinctive carrion crow.

Cas has been a rare sight around, spending his nights merged with his dreamguide. The delivery comes during the day though. It's a small cardboard box, and inside a wreath, with a card.

Inside it reads: 'We should make mead sometime. Our humans would like it. You might, too.' ]

text. un: jack (during his canon update ofc) 1/idk

[progeny]

Castiel? Are you at the hotel?

Can I come and see you?

[progeny]

Cas?

text; un impala67 - 4/14ish

[venatoris]

[ After he and the other Sam finally banish the ghost, it...eventually occurs to Dean that he should check on Cas. He'd pushed the angel away - for good reason - but he'd seen the same thing Dean did, and considering how fucked up as Dean is over it, the angel might be having a feeling or two. ]

hey cas.

its dean. the other one.

are you okay?
how are you doing
i'm sorry
i fucked up again, didn't i.

how are you coping

text; un: castiel

[heraldingangel]

[ All men break. Before Sam and Dean, Castiel never understood the true grit of it. The way it burrowed deep, nesting, waiting for that quiet moment when his thoughts pivot and he's hit with the howling of a thousand sorrows.

The curse of man. It's salvation. He doesn't know what to make of the churning ache and slides back to logic until his heart turns back to stone, and the ache of humanity no longer renders him useless. ]

Hello, Dean.

How are you doing?

sometime after sam stabbed poor castiel :')

[beforetheverse]

Hi, Castiel, I'm Sam.
I mean, we met already but I didn't introduce myself because um
Things were confusing

I just wanted to say sorry for stabbing you.
I thought you were maybe a monster trying to kill me.
I'm real sorry.
I hope you're really OK.

You didn't seem to react to getting stabbed but

It's the Winchester Greeting by this point!

[heraldingangel]

[ The angel peers down at the unexpected message unsure what he's trying to get at until the end and even that leaves him slightly confused. ]

You're not the first Winchester to stab me on our first meeting, but you are the first to apologize for it.

[ Which is why he's feeling a little off-kilter right now. Why was he apologizing? ]

I knew who you were Sam. How are you feeling?