don't believe what they say

[limped]

WHO: Newt and YOU? Possibly?
WHERE: The Hotel, floor 7 and 8
WHEN: ~Feburary 13th
WARNINGS: Possibly language???
SUMMARY: Settling in and meeting the neighbours


( Feel free to turn this into a lil hotel mingle log, go for it! )



[ Newt wanted somewhere to sleep that was a little less open to those things. The Scorch had been different, there wasn't anywhere to rest that was really all that safe. Here, they could find a building and barricade it up. The blond didn't feel comfortable being too far from the water source, so when they found the Hotel not too far, he was glad for it.

The hunt for whatever it was that guy had been looking for had been a wild goose chase, but Thomas had put the idea of rope in his head, and since then, he's been cutting seat belts out of old decrepit cars and hoarding them. Maybe it looked a little odd, the blond sitting on the ground on the eighth floor in front of a giant hole that goes into a room below him, tying remnants of seat belts together in an odd pattern (if anyone looked closer, they'd see he was making a rope ladder.

Occasionally, he can be heard speaking down to someone in the hole. The door to the eighth floor "room" completely missing. ]

I think we could catch rain water up here, and start a garden.

[ Anyone who happens to come up behind him will be met at spear-point. ]

Comments

[pinner]

[She studies him before answering. He knows a lot about the stars and it's impressive.]

I wish I was able to feel them.

[If she had been able to feel them back in Tomorrowland, maybe Frank Walker wouldn't have ended up hating her because she could have shown that she felt anything at all. At least here, she could feel everything. She just didn't understand any of it.]

Where did you learn all that you know about astrology? I haven't ever spoken to anyone with knowledge that rivals yours.

[strangelic]

[ Castiel smiles, just a little bit, watching her with something like affection. They haven't known each other long, but she has an endearing passion, and it's peaceful for him to be able to talk about the stars, about nature, things he loves with enduring spirit, without having to delve into fighting and apocalypses and everything his life has been as a warrior of God. If all angels had been needed for was to watch the stars, he would have been happy, but his path hadn't led that way. Only Meg had made him feel like it was alright to linger on the beautiful, soak himself in Creation like he was a part of it.

But he wasn't a part of it; that was the saddest thing. ]

You can observe anything if you look for long enough. Sometimes my brothers and I would talk about them together. [ And then humanity named them all, sometimes named the same constellation different things, depending on where in the world they stood. Sirius was an example of that. ]

What about you? Who taught you about the stars?

[pinner]

My creator.

[She says it quietly, almost reverently. If she makes it sound convincing enough she wagers he'll assume she means the God that humans worship. Children were supposed to be taught things by him, she thinks.]

Frank Walker taught me other things. Like how to use the stars to find my way. And which stars were brighter in the summer. He told me stories about the stars and made me love them because he did too.

[She becomes very still and quiet after that. She's feeling sad and the urge to cry, but doesn't fully understand why.]

[strangelic]

[ Castiel was indeed about to address the God thing, but when Athena goes quiet, the sadness lifts off her like mist rising off a warm lake in cold air. It's almost directly painful to him, not that he verily knows what to do about it, either; he's not good at comforting, never been taught to do it. So he sits there, and looks at her. ]

You miss him very much.

[ It's obvious, really. ]

[pinner]

Yes, I do.

[Her answer sounds as sad as she's currently feeling but she knows that it's childish to miss someone that hates her. It's also childish to be so sad when faced with the limitless possibilities of the stars out on display. So she tries to correct the mood.]

When I last saw him, he hated me. But I think I love him. He was the only friend I've ever had.

[strangelic]

[ It felt like love, Castiel thought, but why did she seem so unsure? Her uncertainty makes him think of his own relationship with God. Could it be love or hate that his Father had with him? Castiel didn't think he knew, given what he'd been put through; brought back to life, again and again, but for what purpose? Never anything good. That's surely not something someone does to somebody they like.

He appreciates her effort to raise the mood, but it's unnecessary, really. Childishness is so often necessary. ]

Love and hate are so often indecipherable from each other, [ He says, instead. ] I find that the old adage is easier to find direction from--that actions speak much louder than words.