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)
oasislogs2016-04-08 12:34 am
strangelic) wrote in oasislogs2016-04-08 12:34 am
Log; Catchall
WHO: Castiel and you
WHERE: Warehouse (and city)
WHEN: April (First prompt before the spam and cheese delivery, otherwise any time in april)
WARNINGS: none as of yet
SUMMARY: Catchall log for april
Food was getting desperate. Castiel was aware of it, even with their dwindling group. People needed to eat, not that Castiel was much of a hunter himself. He felt too kindly for the little animals in the forest. Instead, he gathered nuts and berries, and dug up yucca root from the forest floor, looking apologetically around at the strips of drying meat. Poor Bambi.
He wouldn't mind help sorting the nuts, but, of course, someone might get hungry just watching him, and he's a little softer about handling rations than everyone else. He can always go looking for more, no matter how Daryl might feel about their only healer endangering himself, so there's no point in anyone starving themselves.
---
Humans were always getting injured, Castiel lamented. Of course, the situation was exacerbated by this place, which seemed to have had all its edges sharpened to a point. Here, a piece of barbed wire would mean certain death from toxic shock. There were plants and animals in the forest with poisons in their skin, and teeth, and tails. And then there were the deeper infections, illnesses, and things that sank deeper, took longer to make their purposes known.
Castiel still found healing an uncomfortable thing, strangely intimate, but it was the least that he was still good for. He had fashioned his "room" in the warehouse, carved into an L-shape of nailed together crates, to give his patients a little privacy, and filled it with anything soft he could find--anything that was spare, chunks of broken foam mattresses and styrofoam shapes, among other things. It wasn't much of a doctor's office...more like a nest, really.
---
Out in the streets, life was even more risky, though the streets were much quieter now. Most of the slippery walkers had been killed, but the cannibals were still there, some of them, the sneakier, cleverer ones. Castiel wasn't here for himself; he'd seen another person leaving, and rather than let them wander the city streets alone, he'd followed them without thinking. They'd only find themselves in trouble, out there.
Perhaps if he just spoke to them...
---
Or write your own!
WHERE: Warehouse (and city)
WHEN: April (First prompt before the spam and cheese delivery, otherwise any time in april)
WARNINGS: none as of yet
SUMMARY: Catchall log for april
Food was getting desperate. Castiel was aware of it, even with their dwindling group. People needed to eat, not that Castiel was much of a hunter himself. He felt too kindly for the little animals in the forest. Instead, he gathered nuts and berries, and dug up yucca root from the forest floor, looking apologetically around at the strips of drying meat. Poor Bambi.
He wouldn't mind help sorting the nuts, but, of course, someone might get hungry just watching him, and he's a little softer about handling rations than everyone else. He can always go looking for more, no matter how Daryl might feel about their only healer endangering himself, so there's no point in anyone starving themselves.
---
Humans were always getting injured, Castiel lamented. Of course, the situation was exacerbated by this place, which seemed to have had all its edges sharpened to a point. Here, a piece of barbed wire would mean certain death from toxic shock. There were plants and animals in the forest with poisons in their skin, and teeth, and tails. And then there were the deeper infections, illnesses, and things that sank deeper, took longer to make their purposes known.
Castiel still found healing an uncomfortable thing, strangely intimate, but it was the least that he was still good for. He had fashioned his "room" in the warehouse, carved into an L-shape of nailed together crates, to give his patients a little privacy, and filled it with anything soft he could find--anything that was spare, chunks of broken foam mattresses and styrofoam shapes, among other things. It wasn't much of a doctor's office...more like a nest, really.
---
Out in the streets, life was even more risky, though the streets were much quieter now. Most of the slippery walkers had been killed, but the cannibals were still there, some of them, the sneakier, cleverer ones. Castiel wasn't here for himself; he'd seen another person leaving, and rather than let them wander the city streets alone, he'd followed them without thinking. They'd only find themselves in trouble, out there.
Perhaps if he just spoke to them...
---
Or write your own!
no subject
"Bees are...wiser than people give them credit for. They dance to communicate, so they must be forthright, which given the lack of directness in human conversation I find refreshing."
So maybe he liked the company of bees better than people; that really wasn't his fault. He was just a little traumatized in his own right, like everyone else.
He placed the unopened bottle down in front of him, and looked up at her again. "You're Carol, aren't you? I'm Castiel."
no subject
"You must bee an expert on bees?" she smiled gently before she glanced back down at the nuts he haf brought.
The mention of her name made her glance back over at him, one of her oh so famous gentle and innocent smiles forming along her lips. "Mhmm"she beamed softly.
Once he mentioned his own name, she made her eyes light up in interest. "So you're Castiel? Daryl has mentioned you a good time or two. It's a pleasure."
no subject
So it perhaps put across a certain impression - like maybe he was insane - when he asked his next question.
"Then he told you that I was an angel?" he asked, uncertainly.
no subject
She had begun to scoop up a few nuts in het hand to look them over and later she could count them to see how she could devide them out for everyone. His next comment caught her a little off guard, enough to make her head jerk towards his direction.
An angel?
Carol wasn't much on faith, at least not anymore. Not after all she had lost, all she had done. His comment was enough to make her body go stiff, her stomach cringe slightly but she kept her innocent Betty homemaker composure.
After a moment she just burst into a little laugh. "Excuse me?"
no subject
"An angel," he said again, a little more softly this time. He turned back toward him.
"A seraph, actually." He relaxed his tone, and reached out toward the basket of nuts, taking one of them out and turning it thoughtfully in his hand. He hated aggression, conflict, and he was determined to avoid it. Staring holes in the nut as though it could swallow him up.
"Daryl didn't believe me either. He was angry; angrier when I showed him irrefutable proof."
no subject
Only Carol didn't have much faith in God or his little angels. Sure she had prayed to God many of times, mostly when her daughter went missing but prayers done nothing but gave her a dead daughter and God sure as hell didn't help when it came to her having to kill innocent people, like a little girl.
This time she laughed a little half heartily. "I'm sorry but umm are you insane? "