CASTIEL

He WONDERED how they managed it; how they could celebrate and honor the history of the Beacon Hills when people were dying (did they not want to stop it?). Humans and their devices of ignorance, though the funny part was he was beginning to envy them. 

Dean’s never been a man overly given to laughing. Not the normal people kind of laugh, the out loud type. He’ll snort or grin or maybe give the briefest of amused noises, but outright laughing’s been a rare thing most of his life. And maybe that says a lot, whatever, self-reflection is for other people.

Point is, he’s dangerously close to laughing right now. So much so that he has to swipe a hand over his mouth to hide an amused grin, because what the fuck. This dude has either been living under a rock for a thousand years, or he’s the most genius dry comedian Dean’s ever met, sitting there solemnly talking about semi-nude performers and clams.

“Yeah? And what duty is that?” Dean can’t keep the laughter out of his voice, rolling underneath his words, even as he cracks open another beer. One of the librarians has started to give him a serious death glare, but she can shut right up. It’s a free country. “What kind of duty can’t even let a guy enjoy the occasional wholesome strip club?”

  He didn’t entirely understand the amusement. The Angel was merely being truthful; should anyone know of having a duty were it not hunters? let alone the Winchester brothers. Everyone had their ROLE to play in this town, just as he did. 

“To Heaven, Dean.” It wasn’t hard to tell the brother apart, certainly not when there was already so much known about then. He found himself wondering if the other would deny such things; many people struggle with believing in a higher power after all. “You of all people should be aware, a town with a devastating number of deaths and a Supernatural population increasing day by day...-Something big is coming, much bigger than anyone is going to be ready for.”

The brunette looked around for a moment, gauging where they were exactly before heading off towards the left. “This way is the shortest path towards town. It will at least get you on the main road,” she explained, motioning for him to follow her. “I hope you can find whatever it is you’re looking for tomorrow. Sometimes a new perspective can help,” she suggested, trying to at least chat for a bit so there wasn’t this awkward silence while they walked.

  Well at least he was half decent at that, following. Even then there were some who would argue he’d had too many PHASES of doubt, an Angel with questions left room for things that shouldn’t be at play. “The trail hasn’t been smooth so far..-” he somehow doubted it would start being smooth now but he appreciated the gesture. “I’m almost certain your parents are at peace.” There was after all a place for good people there, those who died before their time and with a purpose seemed to have a ticket straight to their own version of PEACE. He believed the girl needed to know that; she seemed so..sad. 

“well if you are so smart then why don’t you shed some light on my kind –– because i currently know nothing.” the younger of the two stated clearly. he was weird, the kind of weird that lead lydia to believe he definitely wasn’t from around here. “oh thats just perfect, i walked five miles?” that explained why her feet were sore.

jordan raised a brow as he waited for the other to speak before shaking his head and standing up. “and what is it you think i can help you with?”

Okay, Captain Literal.

Dean decides he’s going to leave the first comment alone. You make death sound easy. Because sure, he can toss off a flippant comment – Dean’s real good at that, got it honed to an art form – but he’s just buzzed enough and just bored enough that what comes out of his mouth might get a bit too truthful.

Instead, better topic:

“Because. It’s everybody’s sacred duty, man or woman or whatever, to venture to a place of Clams,” Dean replies, oh-so-solemn. “I don’t care what your orders are.” Which, interesting statement. Dean might have to pick that one apart later, because he’s got orders too, but he kinda doubts HAL-9000 over there also has a dad who sent him to check out a spike of supernatural activity in a tiny sleepy town. “There’s orders and then there’s duty.”

Not everyone’s then. Or certainly there was no part in any divine duty, that mentioned anything about Strippers and Clams if anything it was far more about faith or belief; to follow blindly and loyally. Though there had been doubts within the Angel’s mind for some time now (too many questions left to fester). “What a strange duty you have, to follow those Clam’s blindly as to achieve nothing but semi-nude performers.” 

There was curiosity in that or perhaps the Angel merely wondered what it would be like to have such freedoms. “My duty is far different; I don’t have much time to follow...Clams.” 

“no my sweet.” she mused, hovering her hands above the cards on the table. “they’re dead, all of them.” she chuckled, looking over at him again. “there is something that vibrates around you. what is it? I want to call it out to play, can i tempt it?”

Dead? Now the Angel was merely more confused than before, perhaps she spoke in riddles with a purpose (unlike the majority of those that inhabited earth). Though her questions did make him wonder if she could sense what he was, few could after all or none that were the same species as she was. “Do you see what I am?” a genuine question, some need to figure out whether she saw the being beneath or merely sensed the Angelic presence. “There is very little to tempt.”

“That seems like it would be pretty hard to find, especially on your own. I could help out, if you like,” she suggested, unable to help herself from offering. It was her kind heart, always pushing her to help others. But his tone wasn’t exactly welcome to her in either way it seemed, so maybe he didn’t want the help. “Or you could always ask the people who work on the preserve to keep an eye out. They know these woods better than anyone. But it will get dark soon and be harder to look, so maybe you should head back to town and come back in the morning? I can show you the way if you want Castiel.”

In hindsight perhaps she was correct, not that the Angel would do much at night; the lack of needing to sleep aside he typically just wondered anyway. It was easier that way and it passed the time, though time on Earth was quite a frustrating ordeal. So set in it’s ways, how little Humans knew of its fluidity. “Yes. I think heading back into town is the...smart option.” He added with all but a brief look. “I would appreciate that.”

“What purpose would be served?” Dean repeats. “I’d be dead, Mr. Roboto, that’s the purpose. Dead and resting in peace.”

Some of that might have been hard to hear, since his head’s down on a pile of books and he’s directing his complaints to Beacon Hills: A Short History and not whatever gravel-voiced robot man has piped up. Dean thinks his answer speaks for itself: death is preferable to research. Dropkicking his entire soul into the void would be preferable to research. 

Is he being over-dramatic and whiny about having to read for longer than ten minutes? Maybe. Shut up. There’s a reason he usually makes Sam do this part.

When he finally lifts his head from the stack of books, Dean almost does a double-take, because, uh, okay, not what he’d expected. Not that Dean looks like a student either, but this dude is– what, a tax accountant? Confused about the weather because he apparently thinks trenchcoats are an all season item? Dean defensively curls an arm around his remaining beer, a silent no, you can’t have any.

“If you’re looking for the strip club, you’re about three blocks off.” It’s the coat: it’s either pure flasher material, or pure social awkwardness. “The Clam Diver. Can’t miss it.”

  There was a bigger picture. Surely the Hunter knew that much? Always a bigger picture, some higher plan: fate set in motion, granted it wasn’t as if the Angel knew all of the answers...more often than not he remained just as OUT OF THE LOOP as humanity. He simply had his orders to follow. And those had no suggestion of entering some establishment where most of its workers didn’t know how to dress. 

“You make death sound easy..-” words curious of course, perhaps it was common for hunters to desire the peace that came after. 

Eyes of course, setting course back for the books barely a moment to take the one he was after before the suggestion left him with far too much confusion. “No; my orders aren’t to go to this...Clam...Diver? Why would someone venture to a place of Clams?” 

           Alice looked at the male strangely. How he talked. how he carried himself. how he stood. Everything about him didn’t seem normal. Though he did have a point. The town was highly populated, seeing someone out here isnt so far off. “ True… but very few would even come here out at night.” 

         The banshee shrugged at his telling. “Both maybe… I just started walking and ended up around here. Now im just looking to get out of the woods. Someone could say the same about you too, though… Are you brave or reckless.” 

      Questions with such a...HUMAN conclusion, typically left the Angel in a rut. For he wasn’t certain there should be an answer; he was just a soldier...sent by orders. Nothing more, nothing less and yet he felt compelled to offer up a reply.”I’m not...sure yet, maybe i’ll be both?”

“I think you are meant to go fishing with it now…” she mused, looking at the other in thought. “i’ve honestly never gotten this far before in this game, seeing as those i play with are generally stuffed animals or dolls. Miss Edith is a terrible cheat!” she hummed with a dramatic sigh. “i don’t see what fish think are appetising about playing cards. wouldn’t you think they’d rather eat a nice, juicy wormy?”

He surely placed the card down, he wasn’t certain you could fish with them; didn’t fishing require a rod? CURIOUS. “Are these objects possessed?” he wondered, hardly understanding the intricate details of the other could only lead him to conclude that some form of spirit resided within these items. “YES. Though I believe those who fish, call it bait.” 

@ofxetherealfaith & jordan

“has anyone ever told you how weird it is that you pop up in the middle of the night and watch people sleep?” jordan asked lazily as he sat up in his bed and looked over at the other. “castiel what do you want?”

“my kind ?? ––– dude you clearly know nothing.” lydia said as she completely snapped out of her trance. god she hated it when that happened. “where exactly am i? doesn’t look like i’m in town anymore.”

“Searching? For what?” she asked, confused as to what he could be looking for in the woods. “There isn’t much out here except for old, abandoned houses, the swimming hole, and the woods,” she stated, figuring he must be new to the area. “Do you need some help? I’ve lived here my whole life, so I could maybe help point you in the right direction,” the brunette offered with kindness in her eyes. “I’m Elena. What’s your name?”

   Human’s had seemed too inquisitive as of late, though the Angel wondered if it was merely this town that brought forth such a frustrating thing or if it happened to be something of common occurrence (Though he did stick out...-was this the reason for so much confusion needing to be answered?). He gave one look, almost a DISMISSAL. “I lost something in the woods and I need to find it.” That seemed a plausible enough excuse right? “Castiel.” A voice laced with monotone, he wasn’t sure how introductions happened. He was aware some form of a hand gesture typically took place, so he put his hand out just for that. 

[ open starter ]

Dean’s still not sure how he wound up on research duty, but here he is, in his least favorite place in the entire world: the library.

Normally, his role in the family business is a lot more hands on: hit up the bars to chat to possible witnesses, stare at a dead body in the morgue (while devoting at least half his mental energy to finding a way to gross Sam out), or make sure there’s enough silver bullets. Research isn’t his happy place. Books and dry text and tiny print, just, no. Give him something to punch, thanks.

But here he is, in the university library, having surrounded himself with an absolute mess of books, old newspapers and, somehow, a six pack of beer that’s already half gone (how he managed to smuggle that into the library will remain a mystery for the ages: a magician never reveals his secrets). His laptop, perched haphazardly in the middle of the stack, is open on a google search: HOTEL CALIFORNIA EXCEPT IT’S A WHOLEASS TOWN AND MAYBE A STUPID CURSE. 3.3 million results. Super useful.

To make matters worse, he’s been getting the stink-eye from various students for hours now. Maybe because he’s taking up a whole table. Maybe it’s the beer. Maybe it’s the restless Ramble On drumline he’s been tapping against the table on repeat.

Dean’s halfway through a book on the town history when he can’t do it anymore. He just can’t. He’s so bored and he’s in hell. Instead, he throws a hand up like he’s in class, and announces to the nearby tables, “Yeah, hi, anybody here know how to handle a gun? Because I will pay you money to shoot me in the face.”

     While merely taking the books he needed had seemed like a plausible issue, apparently those who didn’t happen to be students or faculty didn’t have such a luxury and as not to DISOBEY the orders he had, he merely took a seat having assumed that since the majority of the adults here tended to wander around in formal wear he would go unnoticed. Not that he cared much if he didn’t. 

The curious nature of the mortal hunter he knew about for more than one reason, caused the Angel to frown in confusion. “What purpose would be served in offering out such an action?” Some may assume that was a foolish question but he truly was curious. “Besides I have no need for weapons.”