sirenspull_logs

Entry tags:

[OPEN]

Who: Godstiel and YOU~
When: From November 21st to just before midnight November 30th
Where: All over the city
Summary: Godstiel brings the wrath of God down on Siren's Port, along with some miracles.
Warnings: Violence, death, religious imagery, crazy people, etc etc etc

OOC: Plotting post is here, and feel free to comment there with questions or if you wanna plan out more details before jumping into the log. Please comment to the ooc post if you want to be involved and haven't already responded, so we can work out why Godstiel would be going after/helping your character! Random encounters without planning are okay, but may not lead to anything but a discussion.

Post your own threads in this log for any confrontation with Godstiel, and please make a note of the day in the subject line, and the setting if appropriate. Threadjacking/setting up threads are fine as long as the other parties are good with it! The final confrontation with him near midnight on the 31st will be with Oz, but people can still encounter him earlier in the day on the 30th. PM me with any questions!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Where's my shadow, hmmm?"

His rapt little audience knows he's blind; children look for the obvious, thus they are harder to fool. They'd pointed it out to him that the doll on his shoulder was broken, her head blown off - and given him another one instead. She had turned out to be the real Miss Emily, dropped from his pocket when he'd first arrived at Siren's Port and this hospital, and repurposed in the children's ward.

"Everyone says I've got one, but I can't find it anywhere!"

He scratches the top of his head, pouting and obviously befuddled. A little boy, with a bandana covering his bald head, toddles up and helpfully pulls on Break's hand, guiding it down to the floor. Break makes a show of frowning, as he feels around for it.

"Why, there's nothing there! You're teeeeeeeeasing me~!"

He's on his feet again (the tower of glove boxes still balanced on his head), feeling along the wall, waving his hand under chairs ("Where is it, where is it?), checking under his own jacket, and then finally--

"Theeeeeeeeere it is - my shadow!"

--reaching for Gilbert where he stands.

It's easy to imagine him making these sorts of jokes with Miss Sharon, back when she was little and he'd found himself repurposed into a completely new family with a new name and new title. Of course, the reason behind the little joking act is lost on him as he watches Break fumble uselessly around for this shadow of his. Taking it as nothing more than mocking his own blindness, Gilbert dips his chin down and closes his own eyes, exhaling in a terribly depressed manner. This is too much to watch, he really should go -

But as soon as the exit sounds like his best choice, he's grabbed and tugged the rest of the way through the door. In his dark jacket, pants and hat, he could very well pass for a dark shadow when contrasted with Break's pale hair and clothing. He lets out a loud, "hnnrk?!" noise as he stumbles forward, which makes the children laugh at him in turn. Well, he's not depressed anymore, but he's most decidedly embarrassed.

"How long have you known...I was there...?" he asks quietly so that the children can't hear him, between clenched teeth.

"Ah - I've known you were there for ten whole years."

He tilts his head coyly. The stacked boxes on his head wobble - and fall towards Gilbert. This gets another laugh, as Break presses his hands to his cheeks, his eye wide open and his mouth forming an "o" of surprise.

"Say hello to Mister Gilbert, everyone. He--oh, thank you."

This last is to a girl who, IV stand in tow, has gone round and gathered up the fallen glove boxes for him. Beaming broadly, he bows down to her, with a swish of his jacket, exchanging the boxes for a piece of candy. This is the essence of what he does: it's not just about making kids laugh, it's making them feel capable and useful, despite being sick.

Even the frailest of children can point out to him where his bouncy ball has rolled to, or where he's dropped his paper fans. Thus his blindness is neither simply weakness nor punishment, and more than salvation: it is a bond, between him and his audience. Even though he is playing a part, when he comes here, he feels - on a deep level - that he doesn't have to perform.

Rising from his bow (and struggling with the boxes: "Ooh, they're heavy! You take them, Mister Gilbert!"), he addresses the children once more.

"Now, I'm told that my shadow is supposed to do everything I do, is that right? How good a shadow is Mister Gilbert, what do you think?"

He rises up on the toes of one foot, kicking his other leg forward, with his back arched and arms outstretched. It's an awkward, precarious pose, which he balances somewhat by flapping his floppy sleeves.

Several things are working against him here. For one thing, he's not about to act rude in front of a room full of children, especially not sick children. And even worse, children who are enjoying Break's little act. He makes another strange, strangled noise in the back of his throat as he takes all of the boxes, the resulting stupid look planted on his face while the children all giggle and point and speak in hushed and gossipy tones. He sighs, places the boxes on the closest empty tabletop that he can reach (stacked nearly on top of each other) and then freezes when he hears what Break has proposed for him.

Really? They're playing a game of shadow now?

He looks at Break's stupid pose...

Then back at the smiling children, sitting forward and cheering him on.

Back at Break.

Boss, he is going to punch you in the face later and this time he won't even feel bad about it.

Hesitantly, after a silent moment to psyche himself up for it, he sighs in defeat and attempts the same pose, balancing on his toes but by no means achieving an exact shadowed replica. He can't bring his other leg up high enough, and his arms are only halfway as high as Break's.

And he feels like a complete and utter tool.

He can't see what's happening of course, but he can hear Gilbert's defeated sighing clear as day. Well, well. Time was, when Break himself had been a serious young man. Lady Shelly had taught him to laugh: at himself, at his awful circumstances. And then he had learned to smile, truly.

Maybe Gilbert can learn to laugh, one day. Maybe.

Break continues to lean back and flail, until he's bent so far that his hands touch the floor. A kick, and his legs come over. He springs upright again, bouncing on his toes.

--And it's right as he kicks back and lands on his feet that Gilbert stumbles backwards and replants his feet on the ground, fists clenching at his sides as he turns and yells towards the man.

"I can't do that!"

The day to learn to laugh is clearly not today.

Break has his hands out, about to applaud at the sound of Gilbert toppling over (he's certain Gilbert's spine doesn't bend that way), ready to plant his boot upon Gilbert's fallen form, ready for the children's laughter...

But there's a little silence after Gilbert's outburst. After a moment, he speaks; his voice is very kind, as if he were addressing a child.

"Well, well. That's all right. There's lots of things that are hard for us to do."

He pauses, to let that sink in.

"But you shouldn't say things like 'I can't' when you haven't even tried."

Oh, great. A meaningful pep-talk for the children, and a guilt-trip for the useless subordinate. This is what's famously known as a lose/lose situation; if he tries, he'll fail. If he doesn't try, either he'll upset the children or he'll be opening himself up for worse teasing and/or mockery later from Break. Okay, whatever. It's just an awkward backflip, Break does it all the time, how hard can it be.

With the children all cheering for him to 'try! just try!' the decision is made pretty easily for him.

Even though Break can't see him, he can hear the grunt of annoyance as he balances once more on his toe, leans back, back, back, stumbles halfway through arching his back - but! - with some sort of luck actually manages to land both of his hands on the ground!

Of course, he hasn't given himself enough leverage to kick his legs over his head, so the minute that he attempts it he simply loses all balance and collapses spine to floor with a very loud and painful sounding oof!.

The children don't seem to mind terribly, though. As Break had just told them all, lots of things are hard, but if you don't try, then you'll never know for sure just what you can do.

It is a pep-talk. For many of these children, simply making it through the day is difficult. Tests, infusions, and procedures: they all make the simplest tasks, even eating, seem like insurmountable challenges.

But Break's words aren't solely for the children. They are for Gilbert, whose weakness of spirit has been a constant source of worry.

Which is why he smiles to himself at the sound of Gilbert's annoyed grunting. And when Gilbert inevitably falls, he neither plants his foot on Gilbert's chest, nor bursts into laughter. He applauds (the giggling children follow suit); then extends his hand.

"It isn't trying if you give up after the first attempt!"

This isn't a clown show anymore. And it isn't just a pep-talk. It's a lesson.

"Again. This time you won't fall. I'll help you."

It hurts his pride more than his body, so he sits up easily and rubs at his red cheeks as the children and their clown applaud his attempts. Failed attempts, but perhaps that in and of itself was part of this little lesson.

He tries not to look defeated as he takes the offered hand and lets Break lift him upwards, dusting his clothing off and checking to make sure that his cigarette case hadn't been crushed in the fall. But luckily it seems to be unharmed. Excellent.

"Break..." he mutters unhappily as he turns to look at him. But they're supposed to be putting on a show here, so very, very warily, he finally finishes his thoughts.

"...Then...if you help me, I'll definitely get it right this time."

The most depressed shadow there ever was.

"That's right, Gilbert~! All you've got to do is trust meeeeeee~! ♥"

Break turns, just so, that his expression is hidden from the children, but perhaps Gilbert can see the gleam in his sightless eye. And then his hand touches Gilbert's shoulder, sliding down to rest upon the small of his back.

When he turns back towards his audience, his features have smoothed out into something somewhat less terrifying.

"Lean back again - and reach like you did before!"

THREATENING ATMOSPHERE

THIS REALLY WAS A BAD IDEA--!

But he has no choice, he's not about to disappoint a room full of children. Even if Break ends up flipping him into a wall just for laughs, he's going to have to deal. Oh well, it's not like he isn't used to losing every ounce of his dignity.

He closes his eyes and leans backwards, reaching his arms out again, and mutters under his breath, "You owe me for this...!"

"Tsk! Oh ye of little faith. Now - kick!"

Keeping one hand on Gilbert's back, he reaches down with the other for Gilbert's ankle. Thus he can keep Gilbert's spine from collapsing, and provide the necessary momentum if Gilbert doesn't manage to kick hard enough.

Of course, Emily's got to chime in too:

LOOOOOK, HE'S HEAD OVER HEELS!

He sighs. He kicks. And he tumbles up, back and around, awkwardly but without collapsing on his face this time! He lands well enough on his feet with Break's help, and ends up standing hunched over for a moment to make sure that he's regained his balance while the children laugh and applaud their favorite clown.

The shadow, face red as an apple, takes a graceless bow in silence.

Break can't see Gilbert, but at this moment he doesn't mind it so much, for in his mind's eye he can perceive all at once:

...the small child he had found that day, wet with rain and his own tears...

...the youth, sighing with embarrassment, resentful yet yoked to him like a shadow...

...and the man Gilbert might yet become, after Break is himself no more than a memory.

It's a tiny achievement, in the scheme of things, being able to flip backwards and land on one's feet. Yet one can find joy even in small victories - Lady Shelly had taught him that.

As Gilbert bows, Break twirls - modeling his new black hat, snatched from the floor where he heard it fall.

"That's right, that's right, a round of applause for Mister Gilbert. And maybe, since he's been such a good shadow, I'll give him a half-holiday. He can wait for me downstairs, if he likes. Don't you think shadows ought to get a vacation, it must be awfully dreary tagging along after somebody, flat on the ground."

Break flips the hat off, down his arm like a showman, and holds it aloft for Gilbert to take. It's a clear dismissal, for Break is now returning his attention to the many little reasons he's here in the first place: the children.

Gil has to stop himself from reaching over and snatching that hat back and possibly yelling profanities that none of the children in this room should have to hear. But before he can decide for or against it, it's offered back to him, so he takes it and shoves it back onto his head to cover his mortified expression. It makes him look more like a shadow at least, with his face darkened and hidden, but it doesn't give him any extra incentive to play the part any longer.

He grunts an affirmation before turning and walking out of the room, heading towards the waiting room rather than leaving the building completely like he'd planned on. Break must want him to wait, otherwise he wouldn't have even mentioned it. Either that or he simply wanted to placate him after embarrassing him, but either way, he's happy (relatively speaking) to go and sit in one of the threadbare chairs in the lobby and stare at his feet.

Pitiful looking, to be sure.

Edited 2012-12-09 01:22 (UTC)

Castiel had been on his way to the hospital when he'd sensed what was going on in the children's cancer ward, and he'd stopped to observe from afar. Senses stretched out, he watched the entire scene play out, watched the demonstration and the kids laughing, and looked into the hearts of those in the room.

Once Gil had left and the show was over, Castiel appeared in the room in a soft flutter of feathers. The children--those that notice his sudden appearance from nowhere, anyway--gasped in surprise, and he nodded slightly in greeting to them. He wasn't there to be a vengeful God, here was there to be a kind one.

Edited 2012-12-10 22:54 (UTC)

Now that Gilbert has left, he can get back to business; that is to say, plucking plush rabbits from his hat and making impossibly large lollipops appear from his candy case--

His first thought, at hearing the beat of wings and the children gasping, is that Gilbert has returned and summoned Raven, for some inexplicable reason. No - he'd be able to sense Gilbert, feel his Chain's presence. This... this thing doesn't register at all. And that itself is familiar, particularly with the fluttering feathers. He's met this person before, or someone like him, anyway. Hadn't Castiel said there were others?

"My, myyyyyy~! An angel in our midst, how exciting!"

Telling the children not to be afraid will only have the opposite effect. Instead he waves his floppy sleeves, as if they were wings, and twirls about the room. The best way to dispel fear is with laughter.

"Did you want to be my shadow too, Mister Angel?"

Castiel just watches Break's theatrics impassively, senses reached out and scanning around the room, reading the children and their reactions--their hopes and dreams and fears--and then turning toward Break. He looks at the his past actions, at what he's learned, how he feels, and who he is.

It takes only a moment for him to decide what he wants to do in regards to Break; his mind is already made up with the children, after all, and how Break is treating them, trying to make them happy and keep them calm, just makes the decision easier. He reaches a hand forward, gracefully, to stop Break in midtwirl and send his grace forward to activate his healing ability and direct his efforts to Break's right eye.

Even after he lost all vision in his remaining eye, the parts of his brain responsible for visual analysis have remained active, sometimes conjuring up vivid, fanciful hallucinations: this is the "Charles Bonnet syndrome" (Break knows this because he's taken the time to look it up, on his voice-activated NV).

He creates precise mental maps, as a way to get around the places he frequents. He knows every inch of the Phantomhive-Trancy estate, for instance; and this hospital wing. But sometimes his hallucinations overlay these maps, so that there are nodding daisies covering the carpet of his bedroom, for instance; or flocks of butterflies wafting through the children's ward. On occasion, outside on the street, he can "see" the faces of people he knows. He has learned, through hard experience, not to call out "milady" and go chasing after Lady Shelly.

Sometimes he can see the faces of them: 116, in all. Men and women. Children. They never do anything; they simply stand and stare. They vanish when he waves his hand where they seem to be standing.

Thus he believes himself to be simply hallucinating as Castiel's grace flows through him. He is aware of having been stopped mid-twirl, by some force that is beyond the purely physical.

"Why... ha ha! Don't you want to fly with me, Mister Angel?"

It's not his usual sort of hallucination, however. The flickering fluorescent lights overhead, with their greenish tinge - that's new. Likewise the dull grey clouds outside the window; usually if he "sees" the sky, it's a bright blue, with clouds shaped like sheep or prancing rabbits.

But the sight of Castiel himself is what makes him start. Because the people his mind conjures up are usually clad in the fashion of his home, with ruffles and velvet and pins and frippery. Castiel, by contrast, is just so - plain. He can't be... he can't be real, can he?

"Are you--?"

Break waves his floppy sleeve at Castiel, disbelieving. He'll vanish, surely!

Castiel watches as Break reacts, expression neutral and even, but with just the barest hint of what might be a genuine smile. This is why he's done everything; he isn't wrathful and vengeful because he wants to be, he reminds himself, he is because he has to be. The benevolent God who is there is what he wants to be.

He just gives Break his faint smile and turns toward the children, beginning to drift through the midst of them, reaching to trail his fingertips over foreheads and shoulders as he invokes his healing once again.

[OPEN]

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Tracking fail + holiday hiatus, I'm SO SORRY!

<3 No worries!

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