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

[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.