Castiel; The Fallen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
strangelic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
oasislogs2016-03-20 10:00 pm
strangelic) wrote in oasislogs2016-03-20 10:00 pm
This is a curse that can't be stopped
WHO: OPEN MINGLE
WHERE: The Warehouse, The City, The Forest
WHEN: However long the rain falls and the siege lasts.
WARNINGS: Undead, violence, gore, murder. Note in comments anything else and I'll add.
SUMMARY: With sloppy zombies and cannibals running the show out in the city, everyone is feeling a little cooped up back at the warehouse. But as much rainwater as they have to drink, people still need to eat
WHERE: The Warehouse, The City, The Forest
WHEN: However long the rain falls and the siege lasts.
WARNINGS: Undead, violence, gore, murder. Note in comments anything else and I'll add.
SUMMARY: With sloppy zombies and cannibals running the show out in the city, everyone is feeling a little cooped up back at the warehouse. But as much rainwater as they have to drink, people still need to eat
The Warehouse
After a day or two, the perimeter had been secured far enough back to light a fire out of sight of the top windows of the warehouse, so that everyone could keep warm, even when the rain was pouring outside. There was plenty of water, consequently, to drink, but food and dry firewood was limited, both difficult to get back to the warehouse without coming upon one predator or another outside. The longer the siege went on - and that was exactly what it was - and the longer the rain poured, the more miserable their confinement was. Food came in the form of meat, mostly, and the occasional tropical fruit found on the forest floor, with no way to go out into the forest to scavenge for berries or nuts. Even hunting was risky, with the forest alive the way it was. At night, when the fire was lit, it was the only place to get warm. There were blankets, enough barely not to have to share, and conversation murmured around the fire from those who stayed close to it, even if some of those trapped there were more inclined to mope in their own silence. Visitors, of course, were more than welcome--unless they were the maneating kind, and perhaps one night, with a crash, some uninvited guests might slip through the cracks, and come upon the survivors in their sleep.
The City
It was enough to try and survive. Closing up the sewer entrances was crucial, of course, in order to keep those things still down there confined, but driving back the intruders was work that needed organizing, needed strong hands together, and no small effort. Trips out into the city were more dangerous that trips into the forest, but they were essential too, to reconnaissance how to take back the city - if at all - and then to go out and do it. Bringing together a team to do so meant organizing them, in the warehouse, around the campfire. Then it would be time to press out into the city itself. Who is this brave leader? Who fights beside them? Or shall we hide away until we starve? Perhaps, though, someone just needs rescuing, someone who's hid away elsewhere in the city, or just arrived, and needs a little help getting somewhere safe. Maybe their run just went a little bit...wrong.
The Forest
Food was essential to survival, and wood, too, was running low. Of course all the trees in the forest were just as damp, not to mention enormous burdens to sneak back in past the city walls to the warehouse. Trips out into the trees were risky, but they had to be made by the ambitious and the strong, or the brave and the foolish. The rain still poured down, of course, obliterating tracks, making it hard to move, or to pick out landmarks, the luscious undergrowth dulled to a thick, monotonous gray-green, soaking anyone not already wet through the moment they brushed against it. The animals cowered too, the rainfall making it impossible to hear when predators were creeping up on them, and the same applied to the zombies, stirred to life by all the commotion, hunting the hunters. Perhaps it's just a case of one wanderer coming upon another, unplanned, or is there purpose in this woodland meeting?
After a day or two, the perimeter had been secured far enough back to light a fire out of sight of the top windows of the warehouse, so that everyone could keep warm, even when the rain was pouring outside. There was plenty of water, consequently, to drink, but food and dry firewood was limited, both difficult to get back to the warehouse without coming upon one predator or another outside. The longer the siege went on - and that was exactly what it was - and the longer the rain poured, the more miserable their confinement was. Food came in the form of meat, mostly, and the occasional tropical fruit found on the forest floor, with no way to go out into the forest to scavenge for berries or nuts. Even hunting was risky, with the forest alive the way it was. At night, when the fire was lit, it was the only place to get warm. There were blankets, enough barely not to have to share, and conversation murmured around the fire from those who stayed close to it, even if some of those trapped there were more inclined to mope in their own silence. Visitors, of course, were more than welcome--unless they were the maneating kind, and perhaps one night, with a crash, some uninvited guests might slip through the cracks, and come upon the survivors in their sleep.
The City
It was enough to try and survive. Closing up the sewer entrances was crucial, of course, in order to keep those things still down there confined, but driving back the intruders was work that needed organizing, needed strong hands together, and no small effort. Trips out into the city were more dangerous that trips into the forest, but they were essential too, to reconnaissance how to take back the city - if at all - and then to go out and do it. Bringing together a team to do so meant organizing them, in the warehouse, around the campfire. Then it would be time to press out into the city itself. Who is this brave leader? Who fights beside them? Or shall we hide away until we starve? Perhaps, though, someone just needs rescuing, someone who's hid away elsewhere in the city, or just arrived, and needs a little help getting somewhere safe. Maybe their run just went a little bit...wrong.
The Forest
Food was essential to survival, and wood, too, was running low. Of course all the trees in the forest were just as damp, not to mention enormous burdens to sneak back in past the city walls to the warehouse. Trips out into the trees were risky, but they had to be made by the ambitious and the strong, or the brave and the foolish. The rain still poured down, of course, obliterating tracks, making it hard to move, or to pick out landmarks, the luscious undergrowth dulled to a thick, monotonous gray-green, soaking anyone not already wet through the moment they brushed against it. The animals cowered too, the rainfall making it impossible to hear when predators were creeping up on them, and the same applied to the zombies, stirred to life by all the commotion, hunting the hunters. Perhaps it's just a case of one wanderer coming upon another, unplanned, or is there purpose in this woodland meeting?
no subject
He swallowed, ducking his head. Okay, so he'd probably have to explain himself, sooner or later. If Daryl hadn't told Beth what he was, then Maggie would, once he'd spoken to her. They were sisters, Daryl had told him, and Maggie believed. Maggie would tell Beth anyway, ask her if she thought it was true, try to find some kind of common ground.
There was no point in concealing it, even if finding the words to explain it was less easy.
"Do you remember I told you that I can do incredible things--and that...that you shouldn't be afraid?"
no subject
"Show me. Please." It was begging him to do it, her voice wavering as she tried to not get emotional over something that hadn't even been proven to her yet.
"Just don't heal this," her hand went to touch at the deeper wound on her cheek. "Not yet. I need to keep it."
no subject
"You need to keep it?"
It didn't make much sense, at least not to him. It wasn't the first time. When he'd healed Dean after Lucifer's beating, he'd fixed him up so that all of his scars had vanished, even the ones he'd gotten as a child, and while he hadn't exactly complained...
"Why?"
no subject
She understood that was likely a sentiment he didn't understand, because he may not have ever been treated weak or like a child. "And I thought that maybe people won't think I'm a little girl anymore, if they can see that I'm strong too."
And maybe she wouldn't think it anymore either, but she didn't add that on. She needed her scars to remind herself of the time she had lost the last bit of her innocence, when she could've given in and let the apocalypse finally take her down but she kept on fighting instead.
no subject
But who was he to speak? Here he was, still wearing his ragged coat and ruined clothes, his hair still very askew, bearded. They were all symbolic of his time in Purgatory, and he clung to them because he didn't want to let it go, didn't want to move on from being the person he'd been in Purgatory. This world...this world really was better suited to that Castiel, than any he could come to be if he tried to be himself again.
And if someone washed his coat for him, he might be a little mad about it.
So he paused, chewing his lip for a moment, before he finally angled his head in agreement. "Nevertheless, I think I understand." He lifted his hand again, bringing it toward her temple. She still had time to flinch away, otherwise he'd lay two fingers against her, healing all but the cut across her cheek.
no subject
"What are you?" She whispered the words, bringing a hand up to touch at the gash that still remained on her cheek. "I can't imagine what it's like, having power like that inside me."
no subject
The emotions all stayed below the surface. His brow knotted, briefly, and he tipped his head, but it wasn't obvious where his mind was going.
"I'm an angel," he said, after a moment. "A seraph."
no subject
"I'd ask you to prove it, but I think you just did." There was more laughter, and she reached up to touch at her healed forehead once again. It took her a few moments, but eventually she offered him a bright smile and leaned forward to place a kiss to his cheek in gratitude. He might've been an angel, but he looked man enough to accept a show of thanks.
"Thank you. For saving me before, and healing me just now. You're kinda like a guardian angel, you know." Which wasn't a bad thing at all, as far as she was concerned.
no subject
"It may seem that way now, but--" he started, but he wasn't about to follow down that path. He was no guardian angel, but hers was so positive a reaction to him, comparatively, that it took some of the pressure off. He didn't have to bring the tone down, and it wasn't like he was about to swallow up any more souls of monsters any time soon. He could relax.
"It's nothing. Daryl said we needed a healer, and there's no one else."
no subject
"You only have to answer to God, don't you?
no subject
It wasn't really a lie if he just sidestepped it, and it wouldn't be the first time that he'd done so, either.
"We all answer to God."
"Daryl is a good man. He's brought everyone here together as best as he can, put them into the roles which suit them. He's fought beside all of us, against the dead." He tilts his head slightly. "He thinks the world of you."
no subject
And she admired him for it, and maybe when she was younger had a crush on him for doing it. But he was family, first and foremost, and she respected him greatly on top of that.
"He's the best man I know." She smiled a little, her head tilting to match his. "Being leader's gonna be hard on him. It's good he's got an angel on his side." Even though Beth was sure Daryl likely had trouble with the fact angels could exist at all. She wanted to know his thoughts on it, but knew better than to go questioning him on it right after he had just accepted that she was real.
"He's got me, too. Don't you worry about that."
no subject
But then who was? Castiel wasn't really very easy to talk to, either, far too literal most of the time, and he could feel the things that people didn't want to say out loud, and call them on it. It hadn't been working so well with Daryl so far, but they hadn't killed each other yet.
Beth seemed like a positive influence on that. She could probably get through to him in ways that Castiel doubted he could, being only a recent addition to the group, and already well tied up in his own - and Dean's - issues.
"He wants me to speak to your sister about what I am. He says she believes."
no subject
She bounced her foot up and down a little as she thought on what Castiel was more and more, and became increasingly anxious. Was she talking the right way? Sitting properly? Did he think she was a foolish little girl who believed in him too easily?
"Can I ask you something, though? It's about...me. What I am. Daryl says I died in his timeline, and Glenn does too. Am I here because you brought me back to life?"
no subject
His eyes never left her, especially as her voice dropped, concern picking at her expression.
"No. I'm afraid you're not. That's not something that I can do any more, and it wouldn't be particularly ethical, even if I had known who you were before I met you."