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milliways_bar2010-03-22 08:55 pm
thursdays_angel) wrote in milliways_bar2010-03-22 08:55 pm
Entry tags:
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[OOM: In the year 2013, Castiel gets by with a little help from his friends.]
A not-quite-man on crutches clumsily makes his way into the bar.
He may be familiar to you. From this side of the door, he hasn’t been away for very long.
Everything about him speaks of an existence that has grown shabby and threadbare. His jeans and button-down shirt are worn and frayed. He seems to be wearing an old ski boot in lieu of a cast. The crutches have seen better days; one of them sports a small pink Hello Kitty backpack, held on by a quantity of grey duct tape. His hair is unkempt and he is sporting about three days worth of stubble.
And yet Milliways, as far as Castiel can tell, hasn’t changed at all.
He had been thinking about it, for the first time in a long time, sitting in his cabin at Camp Chitaqua. And now, just like he has conjured it, here it is.
There’s really only one thing to do.
Castiel starts to laugh. Hard. And he shows no signs of stopping.
[OOC: You are all beyond awesome, but I must beg slowtime. As a favor, no new tag-ins? The cup runneth over. I'll catch tags tomorrow.]
A not-quite-man on crutches clumsily makes his way into the bar.
He may be familiar to you. From this side of the door, he hasn’t been away for very long.
Everything about him speaks of an existence that has grown shabby and threadbare. His jeans and button-down shirt are worn and frayed. He seems to be wearing an old ski boot in lieu of a cast. The crutches have seen better days; one of them sports a small pink Hello Kitty backpack, held on by a quantity of grey duct tape. His hair is unkempt and he is sporting about three days worth of stubble.
And yet Milliways, as far as Castiel can tell, hasn’t changed at all.
He had been thinking about it, for the first time in a long time, sitting in his cabin at Camp Chitaqua. And now, just like he has conjured it, here it is.
There’s really only one thing to do.
Castiel starts to laugh. Hard. And he shows no signs of stopping.
[OOC: You are all beyond awesome, but I must beg slowtime. As a favor, no new tag-ins? The cup runneth over. I'll catch tags tomorrow.]
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X's response is immediate.
She really does not like drugs.
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It's an enigma.
"X." Castiel smiles at her. "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?"
Castiel has developed a deep appreciation for feminine beauty. How had he never noticed how beautiful X was before?
Aside from the whole angel-ness.
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X's response is prompt this time, too.
Only now she looks wary.
And confused.
"I do not want to have sex with you."
Considering where she's heard about her beauty before, this response is entirely logical.
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And fairly stoned. Not that that's ever stopped him.
"No worries."
It's not like he's going to be offended.
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She sounds even more hesitant.
Then --
"You are sure you are okay? Besides the foot."
Beat.
"And the drugs."
Beat.
"And being slow."
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Not that Camp Chitaqua is horrible. Compared to the hot zones.
"X. You haven't changed a bit."
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A little.
Why are people from the future always jerks?
It is a question for the ages.
"Oh. Time has passed. For you."
Beat.
"It has been very long?"
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Feels like it's been a lot longer than it really has.
Castiel sighs, looking around Milliways.
"I missed this place."
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Fractionally.
"You were not imprisoned?"
Beat.
"It is hard to keep track of time. Then."
And it would explain some things. Kind of. A little.
X worries about her friends.
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"Depends on how you define imprisoned."
He shrugs.
"More like cut loose."
Some rare days he'd almost prefer the former. At least then there'd be other angels.
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"I do not understand."
She does not know enough about angels to guess.
And figurative language is still not her strong suit.
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What's done is done. No changing it.
The crutches are seriously starting to cut him under the arms, and Castiel eases himself awkwardly down in a chair.
He's still pleasantly buzzed, but the giddy high of finding Milliways again has begun to level off.
"Suffice to say that Heaven and I haven't been on speaking terms for a while."
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Carefully.
Then she sits down next to him. But on a different chair.
"I am sorry."
Beat.
"It is dangerous? For you."
Her only experience in severing ties with the past involves lots of violence.
And pursuit.
Go figure.
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No one is very safe these days.
"Our fearless leader runs a pretty tight camp. So, I may be largely powerless, but I have good company."
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Fractionally.
"And you have learned to cook?"
It is a useful skill.
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"No. Um, no. Sadly, I never developed any talents in that arena."
"I'm more of a....spiritual guide. When I'm not on missions."
The latter he even sobers up for to a degree.
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X absorbs that.
Silently.
Then --
"It is more effective when you are not on drugs."
Beat.
"The hallucinations and incoherence are problematic."
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"The anti-anxiety pills are a lot more helpful for missions."
See? He has a system.
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X is full of scorn.
"They will dull your reflexes."
Beat.
"And you said they are slow already."
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"X. Are you concerned about me?"
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She is entirely earnest.
"You are my friend."
And he is --
She is not sure he is okay.
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And (in spite of his awkward perch) does the only reasonable thing in response.
He leans over and gives X a kiss on lips.
Just a friendly one.
No tongue.
It has been pointed out to Castiel, by a number of people on a number of occasions, that he might be borderline suicidal.
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Mostly because she is -- startled is too mild a word for it.
Shocked.
Frozen.
Confused.
Maybe Castiel really is a pod person.
One hand comes up to her mouth, and she stares at him for a long, long moment.
Then, very carefully, she reaches out to pat his shoulder.
Once.
"Maybe you should lie down."
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Castiel makes a move to pat X's knee, but seems to think better of it. Even he is only going to push his luck so far.
"As delightful as that sounds, I've been told not to exert myself too much for the next few days."
He chuckles.
"But I am touched, X. Truly."
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Beat.
"It is better if I do not hurt you."
The question of whether or not she meant that either way it sounds is --
A question for the ages.
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