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[thursdays_angel]

It is a pleasant evening to be working out of doors.

Of course, it could be ten degrees and sleeting, and it wouldn’t adversely affect Castiel. But the temperate evening does, he finds, add to his overall sense of well-being.

The ball field had lain disused during the winter. But spring has arrived, and there is upkeep to be seen to.

Castiel, in his suit and trench coat, is pushing an old-fashioned manual lawnmower to and fro across the diamond, leaving neat lines of cut grass in his wake.


[OOC: Will be disappearing between 9 and 10 for Supernatural!]

Comments

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Ellen's seen one of those! She knows what they're for! Okay, she saw it being used in the creepiest simulation of pre-war life ever and usually she uses the lawnmowers she comes across as parts to build flaming swords of fire, but still!

... she'll remember to wave hello in a moment. Probably when he gets to the end of the nearest row. She's supposed to be exercising Dogmeat, but the beast's run off after a squirrel anyway.

[thursdays_angel]

Castiel sees a dog giving chase to a squirrel.

A dog that he recognizes. And he looks around for Ellen.

He spots her, and raises a hand in greeting.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

Ellen waves back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," she says. "Dogmeat, come over- Dogmeat, leave that squirrel alone, we've got plenty of food."

[thursdays_angel]

"You are not disturbing me," Castiel replies, voice raised a bit to cross the distance.

He looks after Dogmeat again.

"I believe he finds pleasure in the chase."

There are just certain things that dogs seem to delight in.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"He certainly seems to. Lord knows he'll run after anything that runs away from us at home- or anything that runs towards us, even if it's six times his size." Ellen shakes her head and starts coming in closer. "He's a good friend, but I don't think he has much sense sometimes."

[thursdays_angel]

"Perhaps it is merely that he does not have the sense of a human."

Castiel smiles his habitual small smile.

"Perhaps he is very sensible. For a dog."

Someone is in a good mood.

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"There's a difference?" Ellen says, blinking.

Someone has no concept of things like 'pets'. And is unclear on the relative intelligence of Animals That Are Not Trying To Kill You.

[betagainstme]

Alice is sitting in the stands, breathing in the scent of freshly mowed grass, a small smile on her face.

When (if) Castiel catches a glimpse of her, she raises her hand in a half-wave.

[thursdays_angel]

Castiel recognizes the young woman sitting on the bleachers.

When he notices her and sees her wave, he returns the greeting in kind.

It has a certain stiffness to it. He is not used to waving.

"Hello," he says, voice raised a bit to cover the distance.

[betagainstme]

"Hi." Alice responds similarly. "I love the smell of grass. It's nice. Spring."

[thursdays_angel]

Castiel tilts his head, and sniffs experimentally.

"It smells...." He thinks for a moment. "New."

"I suppose that is appropriate. For spring."

[betagainstme]

"Birth of everything new." Alice nods. "For most things, anyway. How have you been, Castiel?"


Alice is in a relaxed mood. The danger is over...even old grudges are smoothing out. Spring. New.

[thursdays_angel]

Castiel considers for a moment before he answers.

"Well."

There had been the fight with the demon. And some ensuing unpleasantness with Dr. Cullen (at least, on Dr. Cullen's side--Castiel had been largely unaffected).

But all things considered, he's been much worse.

"How are you?"

He abandons the lawnmower for the moment and wanders closer to the bleachers. It is easier to converse in this form when one is physically closer.

[cutting_edgex23]

X, on her way back from the firing range, hesitates before approaching.

He is dressed like Castiel.

And he has not been taking drugs, but --

But last time she got kissed.

It was very strange.

[thursdays_angel]

Castiel pauses in his mowing when he sees her. And raises one hand in greeting.

"X. Hello."

There is not likely to be any strangeness this time.

Barring moving grass in a suit.

[cutting_edgex23]

"Castiel."

X slips closer.

Carefully.

"You are okay?"

[thursdays_angel]

"I am well. I am preparing the ball field for the new season."

For whoever might want to play on it.

"How are you?"

[cutting_edgex23]

X hesitates again, nostrils flaring as she scents the air.

To make sure.

Then --

"You kissed me."

Beat.

"Last time."

[thursdays_angel]

Castiel draws himself up straight, looking both confused and a little affronted.

"I beg your--"

He breaks off, remembering. A conversation with Meg.

"You encountered him. The other version of me."

Please let this be what she is referring to.

[aj_crawley]

It is a lovely evening, especially for the tail end of a Scottish April. Milliways does seem to get a lot of them, around springtime - the same way the autumns here are always wonderfully crisp and magnificently colourful, the winters invariably Christmas-card perfect, the summers inevitably glorious. But then, this is a made place, after all; a little less Scotland as it truly is and a little more Scotland as a wistful end-of-the-universe ex-pat might remember it, during the halcyon days of his youth.

But the narration digresses.

A lovely evening, indeed. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, a considerate breeze is blowing, and from behind the bleachers, there is the sound of furtive laughter.

[thursdays_angel]

The sounds catches Castiel's attention, and he pauses in his mowing.

Looking inquiringly toward the bleachers.

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

The sound fades into the barely-there rise and fall of voices, too faint to decipher, then the laughter can be heard again. Someone - or someones - are trying and failing to remain unnoticed. The breeze picks up, and when it drops again an exclamation of a sort, the word 'really,' can be clearly understood.

[thursdays_angel]

The ball field is public. People can, of course, come and go as they please.

Still, while he is here, Castiel feels a certain responsibility to make sure all is as it should be.

"Hello?"

[aj_crawley]

The silence that follows is curiously... textured. The sort of silence that isn't simply the absence of sound, but rather of someone - or someones - quite deliberately endeavouring to not make a sound.

It feels almost...

Guilty?

[thursdays_angel]

Castiel is blind and deaf to any sort of sheepish quality to the silence. He stands still, watching. Waiting.

Like most old things, he has a great deal of patience.