Castiel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
freetobe) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
logsinthenight2020-01-12 03:10 am
freetobe) wrote in logsinthenight2020-01-12 03:10 am
[Open] Carry you to peaceful fields
characters: Castiel & You (Open) | Castiel & Bruce (Closed)
location: Beacon & In Your Dreams (no really)
date/time: During the Blizzard (Jan 7 - 11)
content: Dreamwalking! Patrolling Beacon during a Blizzard! An angel helping out and endangering himself through it! Whoo!
warnings: CWs dependant on the content of dreams
➣ Beacon {Kiss the feathers of a hummingbird in flight}
[ Castiel doesn't rely on his flesh and blood to keep him in continued existence. The cold doesn't bother him per se, though the weather proved quite vexing to navigate. He hopes that the more mortal of his allies and charges in his place are sensible and will stay inside.
Yet he himself braves the blizzard, patrolling Beacon. Checking on the Bonire, to know for certain that the fire will not be beaten down by the snow. Checking on the edges of the forest, to make sure nothing takes this opportunity to creep in and wreak havoc. Looking for anyone else foolish enough to have stepped outside in this weather. He carries in his hand a peculiar looking, shiny silver blade. His dark hair and coat are dusted with snow, and whenever visibility allows, he moves not by pushing through the snow that's piling up, but by seemingly teleporting with the sound of rustling feathers. Never far - like Crowley and Aziraphale, his flight is limited by how far his lantern allows him to see, though his wings aren't visible to the naked eye. Not unless he wishes to show them, at least.
If he happens to spot someone outside, they might see him at a lantern-light distance, and then suddenly right next to them, blue eyes on the person, and then back to scanning the surroundings. ]
Are you alright?
➣ Dreams and Nightmares {Breaking up into a million specks of light}
[ooc: This one gives you an opportunity to do some dream sharing. This is completely opt in, if you want this prompt, it happens with the OOC permission to enter/invade your character's dream - or nightmare and be witness to its contents. If you already have close-ish CR with him, he might step into any regular old dream you have to check up on you while the blizzard keeps you cooped up. Close CR or strangers having nightmares will also prompt him to make "the trip" as it were, in an attempt to help you through the nightmare and towards restful sleep. If you want him to show up in your dream/nightmare, feel free to respond with a description of the dream. Please put appropriate CWs on nightmares!
Doing this will start to sap his powers, which by the end of the blizzard's duration will run quite low, and the light of his lantern begins dimming accordingly. The implication of this is not known to most people in beacon.]
➣ [Closed to Bruce, Jan 10] Church {Take the shape of an angel in the night}
[ It's towards the end of the blizzard's duration that Castiel finds himself taking momentary shelter in the church. He's been here a few times, though not as often as one might assume an angel to come here. He doesn't bother to brush the snow from his hair, just quietly walks alongside the pews. The church has recently seen restoration efforts, and he can practically feel the care put into the project. Fascinating, the hard work and dedication people put into it. Though he supposes, here in this place, it might have more practical reasons related to that hatch, and the strange conditions of their supposed death.
He's carrying his blade in one hand, serious features trained though on the stained glass, on the alter, on the pews. He looks contemplative, maybe. Or perhaps lost. There's a certain tension in the set of his shoulders, in the tightness of his jawline, and something oddly stilted to his movements. The light of his lantern is strangely dim, and he looks tired.
Castiel eels it in the bones of his vessel, how he has strained himself to grant more peaceful rest to the souls Beacon harbours. No regrets. He won't kill himself for most of them, though if some of them happen to have nightmares, he might be lured into draining himself - draining his lantern - a little more.
He knows he's not alone. Whether Bruce enters after him, or has been there the entire time. Castiel doesn't turn towards him, but says: ]
Hello.
➣ Wildcard {On the whispering wind}
[ ooc: Maybe you want to seek Castiel out differently, contact him on the network, or have a different idea for a plot. Feel free to hit me up on plurk or discord to discuss <3 ]
location: Beacon & In Your Dreams (no really)
date/time: During the Blizzard (Jan 7 - 11)
content: Dreamwalking! Patrolling Beacon during a Blizzard! An angel helping out and endangering himself through it! Whoo!
warnings: CWs dependant on the content of dreams
➣ Beacon {Kiss the feathers of a hummingbird in flight}
[ Castiel doesn't rely on his flesh and blood to keep him in continued existence. The cold doesn't bother him per se, though the weather proved quite vexing to navigate. He hopes that the more mortal of his allies and charges in his place are sensible and will stay inside.
Yet he himself braves the blizzard, patrolling Beacon. Checking on the Bonire, to know for certain that the fire will not be beaten down by the snow. Checking on the edges of the forest, to make sure nothing takes this opportunity to creep in and wreak havoc. Looking for anyone else foolish enough to have stepped outside in this weather. He carries in his hand a peculiar looking, shiny silver blade. His dark hair and coat are dusted with snow, and whenever visibility allows, he moves not by pushing through the snow that's piling up, but by seemingly teleporting with the sound of rustling feathers. Never far - like Crowley and Aziraphale, his flight is limited by how far his lantern allows him to see, though his wings aren't visible to the naked eye. Not unless he wishes to show them, at least.
If he happens to spot someone outside, they might see him at a lantern-light distance, and then suddenly right next to them, blue eyes on the person, and then back to scanning the surroundings. ]
Are you alright?
➣ Dreams and Nightmares {Breaking up into a million specks of light}
[ooc: This one gives you an opportunity to do some dream sharing. This is completely opt in, if you want this prompt, it happens with the OOC permission to enter/invade your character's dream - or nightmare and be witness to its contents. If you already have close-ish CR with him, he might step into any regular old dream you have to check up on you while the blizzard keeps you cooped up. Close CR or strangers having nightmares will also prompt him to make "the trip" as it were, in an attempt to help you through the nightmare and towards restful sleep. If you want him to show up in your dream/nightmare, feel free to respond with a description of the dream. Please put appropriate CWs on nightmares!
Doing this will start to sap his powers, which by the end of the blizzard's duration will run quite low, and the light of his lantern begins dimming accordingly. The implication of this is not known to most people in beacon.]
➣ [Closed to Bruce, Jan 10] Church {Take the shape of an angel in the night}
[ It's towards the end of the blizzard's duration that Castiel finds himself taking momentary shelter in the church. He's been here a few times, though not as often as one might assume an angel to come here. He doesn't bother to brush the snow from his hair, just quietly walks alongside the pews. The church has recently seen restoration efforts, and he can practically feel the care put into the project. Fascinating, the hard work and dedication people put into it. Though he supposes, here in this place, it might have more practical reasons related to that hatch, and the strange conditions of their supposed death.
He's carrying his blade in one hand, serious features trained though on the stained glass, on the alter, on the pews. He looks contemplative, maybe. Or perhaps lost. There's a certain tension in the set of his shoulders, in the tightness of his jawline, and something oddly stilted to his movements. The light of his lantern is strangely dim, and he looks tired.
Castiel eels it in the bones of his vessel, how he has strained himself to grant more peaceful rest to the souls Beacon harbours. No regrets. He won't kill himself for most of them, though if some of them happen to have nightmares, he might be lured into draining himself - draining his lantern - a little more.
He knows he's not alone. Whether Bruce enters after him, or has been there the entire time. Castiel doesn't turn towards him, but says: ]
Hello.
➣ Wildcard {On the whispering wind}
[ ooc: Maybe you want to seek Castiel out differently, contact him on the network, or have a different idea for a plot. Feel free to hit me up on plurk or discord to discuss <3 ]
no subject
It's become something more than that over their time together. Some would observe them in their house and consider them uncaring, maybe, but they're able to co-exist on a level that Castiel appreciates deeply. He's always aware of the souls around him, senses always stretching as far as he can to try and ensure his charges are safe. It's good to be able to exist in the same building and even room with someone without the need for much chatter. And when they do talk, the bright streaks of curiosity her soul sparks with make it easy to humour her, and share what he is comfortable sharing. She has a sharp and open mind - Castiel can appreciate that.
All this is perhaps a roundabout way of saying that he's grown quite fond of his room mate.
Her movements on the living room floor would by themselves not be loud enough to catch his attention, but Castiel has been tapping into his powers to reach out, to feel for his charges and assure their wellbeing in conditions that force most regular humans into isolation to protect themselves from the biting chill. The blizzard howls outside.
Castiel doesn't invade her dreams immediately, only when it becomes apparent that the nightmare is here to stay rather than fade on its own. He walks out into the living room then, looks down at her.
It will drain his powers, he knows that. He will, one day, kill himself trying to do good where it's a comfort rather than a necessity.
With this thought, this knowledge and certainty, Castiel kneels beside her, and focuses on the threads of her dream. He could just soothe them over, let her sleep be kinder to her.
Instead, he steps right in. Observes her death, with a needle in her arm and brain and skull splattered at the far end of a smoking gun.
He follows the essense of her dream self then, lets her pursue the specter of her father, before he himself approaches her in the empty hallway. ]
Ellever.
no subject
And then, a voice.
Ellever's heart is still racing as she whirls to face who it was, and frowns as she sees the figure of her roommate, who has never appeared in her nightmares before. Silly dreams, maybe, but never this reoccurring nightmare. ]
Castiel? [ Her voice comes out too quickly, but she manages not to jumble the sounds together. ] What — what are you doing here?
[ Maybe this is a dumb question to ask something she only imagines is a projection of her mind, like the rest of it, but he takes her by surprise. ]
no subject
You're unrestful. I could feel your nightmare throughout the cabin, and thought I could be of assistance.
[ After a moment or two, Castiel looks down, eyes on Ellever now. ]
You're not dreaming me, if that's what you're wondering. Just the rest.
cw: violence
[ Somehow, it's even stranger to consider that Castiel is actually here. Not surprising, just odd. Normally things in her life are both. She stands there, unnaturally still, for a moment. The roaring outside grows just a bit quieter, as though the source is moving away with great speed, and the screams have stopped. But there's nothing reassuring about that last part. Before they stop, they tremble and cry, fizzling out.
Ellever's breathing is labored, the corners of her eyes stinging. This is the worst part. The knowledge that, whatever she did, she brought Conquest here. And nothing can look on it and survive. ]
...I'm sorry if I worried you. ...I have this dream a lot.
[ There's an abrupt, terrified shriek from somewhere else in the facility, along with a heavy clanging sound. And then a snap, metal rending from an impact or something with incredible strength yanking on it. From the amount of clatters that follow, metal pipes falling onto a concrete floor, Ellever can guess what just got loose.
The Wendigo doesn't roar or make too much noise, but there's a meaty sound and then a tapered wail from whoever shrieked. ]
no subject
[ They wait out the noise together. Castiel listens to it, this reality that the dreamscapes tries to inflict upon Ellever's subconscious. ]
It's not a pleasnt dream to have a lot.
[ He offers those words almost a little hesitantly, carefully. Dreams can be akin to thin ice over treacherous waters. ]
Would you like to not have it right now?
no subject
No, it's... fine.
[ That's not quite accurate, but it feels like yes would be some sort of demand from her roommate, and she doesn't want to ask for anything. ]
Is coming into a dream like this... taxing for you?
[ The wailing has stopped. A few meatier sounds follow, and then silence, followed by familiar footfalls on the other side of the wall. They're not weighty, which should be disturbing, given that the creature making them is fifteen feet tall. The wendigo is a crafty hunter; capturing it had been a nightmare. ]
no subject
[ As much of a non-answer as what Ellever gave him. He's had plenty of experience with humans claiming to be fine when they're obviously not. Dealing with Sam and especially Dean Winchester has gotten him quite used to that. ]
Tell me about this.
no subject
Her shoulders slowly relax as she lets out a long sigh. It isn't that often that Ellever feels comfortable talking about what she is. This is as comfortable as it gets, given the setting. ]
That's my dad. Out there.
[ A tiny, hysterical little laugh bubbles out of her, as she nods at the top windows of the warehouse that are now blackened. Rumbling, horrible noises still echoe, just further away. ]
He has a lot of different names, like all of the... Nine, but most people call him Conquest now. [ Ellever folds her arms across her chest. ] According to the Seer my dad used to employ, when he comes over into our world, he brings the rest of the Nine and it's eventually destroyed. And I'm the one who... brings him. Somehow. That part's never been clear.