Caitlyn Siehl, from What We Buried; “Kindling”

❛ outskirts of town ; not so far no one lives nearby, but sparse enough no one can tell me anything for veritable fact. ❜ it's a lot of conflicting accounts & corner - of - the - eye - through - curtains observations only serving a localized gossip mill. if there are any tangible answers to be found in the grain, castiel sure hasn't been capable of sifting through the intricacies.

there is the briefest splice of a second when castiel's form is unresponsive as a steel beam to the touch at his elbow, before his mind catches up to consideration for the shoppers' movements, dutifully stepping aside, careful glance around to make sure he's not bumped into anyone or - thing the only interruption to his inquiring stare.

the lacking contents of her response are not unexpected, yet he finds himself chagrined anyhow. his gaze is dropped to instead wander the shelves, mind idly catching on the tags of products displayed for something to keep it from pacing outside his confines. it reminds him that he should ask if the bunker needs resupplying when he's finished in the area ( one way or another ) ; castiel might not need any of it all, but he can run an errand on his way back.

❛ when i came here, i suspected it could be any number of things, but i've ruled out anything outside this dimension, plus there's no residual magic to suggest a witch, & too few clues with too many missing to just be a human element ... ❜

there is a pause, then a squint at one of the shelves, muttering a confounded " how does something smell like the color of a horse breed ... ?? " that he just as swiftly determines to set aside for the next time he can spare the downtime to indulge curiosity ( perhaps a few horse stall visits to investigate ) , continuing the original train of thought as though he'd never stopped, trailing on along.

𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍; that was, after all, precisely her modus operandi, the strategy of any of her vampiric siblings that had any interest in sustained immortality. Only those with suicidal ideations struck in public view, where any number of spectators could take it upon themselves to seek justice. Rarely was any method other than seduction or stalking sustainable.

There is no surprise on her expression, not anymore. She merely furrows her brows as she listens to him, strolling down the aisle. To an outside eye, she appears to be deeply troubled by either the selection available or perhaps the very intense man standing a few steps away.

Murky in her mind are the possible suspects or motivation. By no means was Clemency renowned — she clung to the outside of vampiric society, had no desire to make a name for herself past widow, survivor. However, it was common knowledge that this land was under her control. Five hundred years of staking her claim should be worth something.

It is social grace that saves any irritation from rising in her features, though there is a subtle twitch at her eye that aligns with a throb of pain at her temple. As if it was not bad enough that there is an intruder in the area, she has to deal with this holy thing pestering her.

"Pah." A scoff, and she turns to level a sharp finger at him as if it is a weapon. Distance between them closes, but she withdraws her threat in exchange for whispered advice.

"If you truly wish for my help, sir," — this time, the word comes out closer to 'asshole,' her tone of voice lowered to a quiet hiss — "it would be befitting for us both if you would practice subtlety. You will scare people, otherwise."

Had he said those same words in private, she would have been flattered, but in the midst of this artisinal grocery (whatever that meant), she would not have any excess attention brought to her. There was only so much mileage one could get out of medical explanations for peculiarities — poor circulation, photosensitivity, disordered sleeping, food allergies. The word vampire upon eavesdropping ear would burn through her goodwill amidst the unease that traveled with the news of missing persons.

In any case, she is just to quick to return to her shopping. Her gaze glides over the products, though, her focus instead on her thoughts.

"We will go to the edge of town and you will tell me what you know about these individuals." A course of action: she cannot do anything with the vague knowledge that there is somebody lingering about, unwelcome, stealing people away. "…after I finish here."

knee - jerk recalcitrance it is, then. frankly, he finds it preferable in this case : it might be easier to confront a vampire in a public space, but doing anything about a confrontation turned sour is ... difficult, to say the least — he's learned his lessons about trying to challenge monsters of youthful, particularly female visages whilst in his current vessel, he would rather not suffer a misplaced scrutiny again. if he's honest with himself, he hadn't really thought very hard ahead. for a being that does not need sleep, castiel is very tired. ( he doesn't want this turning into another lancaster ; at least there's no ripped throats laying about ... yet ) .

cautious scrutiny he accepts, however, & sighs in resignation, finally lowering his hand to return the photo to his coat's inner pocket. ❛ at this point, i've exhausted majority of my resources, & may have to wait much more than a day for additional ones to arrive. if you have any assistance to offer, then yes, i request it. ❜

he has to gamble on territorial nature, that if a third party is involved, this nature, if not any particular moral standing or impossible thing he cannot guarantee he could actually barter with, guiding the vampire to want to assist him. it wouldn't be the first time he's taken that chance, & he's hoping this may work out half as well. he thinks. he's still making up his strategy as he goes.

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑳𝒀 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 for him to sinking so low as seeking her insight. He had even asked for it rather than demanding it as the high-and-mighty were inclined to do. She was almost charmed — almost. If he could abstain from any further accusations of senseless slaughter, he may even find himself in her good graces.

"Hm." A moment's pause allows her to weigh the benefits and drawbacks of his request, though her consideration is mostly a ruse. Her acceptance would certainly help alleviate earned suspicion — a woman that had assisted so well in hunting the terrible thing disappearing her neighbors is less likely to be seen as guilty of the same crime. She also enjoyed a good mystery and had thought herself quite perceptive in the past. There was also the potential of an owed debt, a favor. There was also the matter of a threat in her midst, stalking her prey—

"Where did you say that they went missing?" In an area where people often go missing, he had told her. It was her estate grounds that had come to mind, but that could not be the case. Her property was her domain — no bodies passed over its threshold without her knowledge.

A step back, and she turns towards the shelves again so that she may resume her shopping - at the very least, the appearance of it. Social norms disapproved of maintaining a conversation, as fascinating as the subject at hand was, in the midst of a walkway and she would abide, even if it meant she must pull him towards the display by the elbow. A handsoap is dropped into her basket, expensive and floral.

Piercing blue gaze warms the side of her face until she turns, heeding his searching expression. Her tone is true, though a frown tugs at her lips: "I really do not. This is the first I am hearing of it, I assure you. It is deeply disturbing information. What do you suspect is the cause?"

the angel can admit to itself that he's never been particularly good at the people part of investigative work, not like so many humans that he has watched at work, but, then, the creature in front of him is as much " people " as the one questioning her ( which is to say : not very ) . he's never had particularly good " creature skills " , either.

once again, castiel finds himself far out of his depth. once again, he tries to muddle through regardless.

❛ yes, just as six other people in the past month. in an area where people often go missing. ❜ a pointed raise of his eyebrows, a clear suspicion if not outright accusation. it's not like a monster would just admit to having done anything wrong — not unless they were supremely confident in their ability to get away with being so blatant — but castiel would like to believe himself having looked in the face of guilty parties often enough by now to distinguish between deceit & plain recalcitrance. he just needs more to go off of.

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 is to evoke many emotions from those that one crosses paths with. That was the very reason that she dared come down from her manor atop the hill and walk amongst the people so frequently; so that they would become familiar with her startling beauty, her outdated manner of dress.

Yes, to be known as a vampire was to attract skepticism, to elicit fear, to receive pointed finger and accusation in the wake of any suspicious happenings… whether deserved or not.

"Seven? In the past month?" The surprise that rises in her features is authentic in contrast to her prior playfulness. If he speaks the truth, it is the first she has heard of it; though it is just as likely that those vampiric senses have begun to tone out overheard discussion of disappearances and murder and conspiracy to save herself from suspicion.

In response to his unspoken question, she shakes her head firmly: no. It was a symptom of eternal life that her hunger was endless, that she would never feel entirely satisfied. Yet early in her afterlife she had learned how long she could go without tasting blood, and further how long she could last before she went mad with thirst. At her hands, death was not so wasteful.

( …so, the question lingered: to whose hands had those missing met their fate? )

Golden eyes scrutinize the man that stands before her.

"Do you accusing me of lacking restraint, or do you request my assistance?" She does not allow a third option that would allow him to do both: he may only offend or flatter her, and if he selects the former it will be far more difficult for him to acheive the latter.