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 ]
dreams and nightmares (cw: light body horror?)
It's not snowing here. Not inside the facility--or what appears to be a labyrinth of hallways and rooms--though the air gets colder going down some of them, making a nonsensical dream-transition to snowy rock walls in some places and ending in snowy patches of ground.
They're mostly empty, except for the sound of footsteps. Prompto's, mostly, as he nervously makes his way down them in an attempt to find the exit, or perhaps make any sense of the layout. However, sometimes the footsteps continue even if he's stopped, or the mechanical sound of a door opening catches his attention, and he points a handgun in that direction. Even if the gun doesn't have any bullets; it's never had bullets the last couple times he's had a dream like this.
Periodically, a PA system will crackle to life and robotically intone a number sequence: 05953234
0͟5̸̷͡95͝͏͠3̛͘͝2̨͘͠34̕ 0͟5̸̷͡95͝͏͠3̛͘͝2̨͘͠34̕ 0͟5̸̷͡95͝͏͠3̛͘͝2̨͘͠34̕
A second Prompto appears from one of the hallways. He appears normal at first, but the closer he gets to the first instance of himself, the more distorted he becomes, flickering like a bad projector image. Each flicker changes him somehow: a flesh-and-blood limb turning to black smoke or morphing into a robotic one and back, his apparent age changing for just a split second, or even disappearing altogether and reappearing further down the hallway.]
Stop it!
[When the lookalike 'moves' down the hall, he goes after it.]
What do you want from me?!
the latest
So Castiel doesn't find him immediately, navigates the pitfulls of the psyche by letting all his non-human senses guide him through, guide him deeper. He looks like himself, here, even though he's not technically here - but he finds it best to retain a representation of his vessel. Humans aren't known to take well to the sight of angels as they are, and it wouldn't do to fuel the nightmare.
He finds him, eventually, deep within the nightmare, sees him following a copy of himself.
Castiel reaches out and places a hand upon Prompto's shoulder. It translates to a physical weight within the dream, but will not hold Prompto back unless his mind follows that impulse. If he keeps going, he'll find it hard to shake Castiel, though, who stands behind him, observant. ]
that's okay though
So from Prompto's point of view, the hand on his shoulder could be literally anyone, friend or foe, and after yelping and nearly falling over from surprise, he's turned to look back at Castiel, this time aiming his gun at the angel's face. It's shaking for the few seconds he keeps it trained there.]
Six-damn...why are you--how did you get here, I've never seen you here before. You're...I've seen you around town, you're not one of them. Hi?
[The other Prompto has disappeared by now, but the dream intruder is more interesting.]
no subject
Hello.
[ And for a moment that stretches uncomfortably long even in this dreamscape, he doesn't say anything anymore, just looks at Prompto.
Castiel doesn't quite blink often enough for comfort - for a human. ]
I felt the maze of your dream even through the blizzard.
[ Offered as if that explains anything at all. ]
no subject
[That unbroken stare is unnerving enough to make him lower the gun, first to Castiel's chest, and then to his own side. If he's not fazed when it's pointing right into his face, he's probably not worried Prompto will shoot. Or maybe he doesn't care, Prompto has no idea.]
You...felt it, huh? I don't think I really understood that, but okay. Good to know my nightmares can be felt by other people. [He gestures at a random wall, as if presenting something invisible to Castiel.] Welcome, I guess?
...Whoever you are. Who are you?