[OPEN]

[ofthursday]

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!

Comments

tuesday 27th | afternoon | sector 5

[forzare]

There's something forlorn about the way he leans against the fence erected around the amusement park. Even if considered tall enough to ride all the rides, he'd never been. Something about the Murphyonic field that surrounded him would compromise and/or obliterate nearby technology? Yeah, that was what lead to him not getting too close to rollercoasters and Ferris wheels.

Still, it doesn't stop him from walking the neighboring sector - browsing the sights, seeking out some sort of work that'll keep his roommate from continuing to provide for them. He hates being a mooch, the fear of being in someone's debt is there. Nearly tangible. So, he goes for a long, contemplative walk through the sector - especially the beach. He misses running the beaches along the lake back home. Maybe he'll start up, if he and Marcone are stuck here much longer. No excuse not to be in fighting shape, especially with a lot of fighting to be done in this place. It ends with him at that amusement park, looking in from the outside.

There's an edge he's come to understand. One that he needs to keep in this place, if he's ever going to find a way out - and it's a little more ruthless and conniving than his morals would allow him to be. The thought of it causes his scarred lip to curl - a wash of distaste and anger rolling in his gut.

[ofthursday]

"You seem angry."

Castiel greeted him with anything but a greeting, appearing out of thin air like he'd been there all along, no sound of feathers or approaching presence to herald his arrival. He was out looking at people, at their hearts and souls, picking off someone here and helping someone there, as necessary.

He remembered this individual from the network, and curiosity had drawn him immediately to him as he'd passed.

[forzare]

Ah, that's a voice he recognized.

The voice of that man from the network, the one who claimed to be judge, jury and executioner. Harry bristled momentarily, and turns to look over his shoulder, getting his eyes fixed on the so-called god. Whether faced with an actual deity or just another delusional nit, he kept his guard up. No use in getting blindsided if he could help it. Expect the worst and be prepared for it - that was an unspoken law he lived by. Even if his quick walk left him rather unprepared.

"Well," Harry drawled, lazy and laconic, "that'd probably be because I am."

[ofthursday]

"Wrath is a sin." He informed him, almost lazily, a faint smirk at the corner of his mouth.

[forzare]

"Like I said," the reply was as level as he could make it. "I don't really subscribe to your... particular systems."

Cautiously, he took a step, or two, away from the fence, but kept it at his back on the off-chance that the dark-eyed man would attempt to circle around. He had appeared quite out of the blue. Harry keeps one hand open at his side, the other tucked into a pocket. The metal of his bracelet visible against the black leather of his single glove. Backup. "Anger is as much an energy to use as it is dangerous when not controlled, I'm well aware of that. People get mad, it's natural - unless you're the Hulk and then it's a condition. Labeling emotions is so sixth century."

And then a jerk of his chin: "So, how loud are the heralds trumpeting?"

[ofthursday]

"I don't care." He didn't, at all; it didn't concern him what others thought, really. His mission was clear, and nothing would stop him.

He was much more interested in trying to figure out why the man in front of him felt oddly like a Heaven not of Castiel's world, and what exactly that meant. His initial reaction was that it was blasphemy, a mockery--especially considering Harry's attitude--but he wasn't going to act quite yet without figuring it out.

"I have no need for heralds."

[forzare]

"Well, so much for all-merciful." Harry's voice is scathing; he remembers God Complex's words from the network. His so-called mission to judge sins and such.

He doesn't usually go toe-to-toe with divine entities. Supposedly, he'd learned his lesson when he wrestled with a semi-divine one once upon a time. He'd walked away with the scars to show for it, including the big one on his face. But the threat of people being hurt was there, and whether it was the Port or Chicago - he couldn't stand for that.

He's trying not to openly insult Castiel (because the guy's got power), but Harry has snarkolepsy, so words keep coming. "Heh," he smirks, just a little, like he's come to realize something. "You really can't get that archangel off my back, can you?"

[ofthursday]

"I can be merciful, when it's warranted." Castiel responded, light tone never changing, smiling just a tiny fraction. "What archangel?" He could just reach out and take the information, but it was more interesting--and said a great deal more--to hear what explanation would be given.

[forzare]

To name or to not name? After a moment's silence, Harry elects to cautiously offer the information. Might as well, because whether or not the other could get the archangel off his back. The power gimmick he'd received was cool enough, but being yanked around by Abrahamic deities was annoying.

"The feathery asshole named Uriel," the reply is low, and all eyes are on Castiel.

[ofthursday]

"Uriel was a traitor, in my world." Castiel responded, as if this was an interesting curiosity. "He hated humans. Why would the Uriel of your world be interested in you?"

[forzare]

"He's a great big bag of meddlesome dicks in a janitor's jumpsuit in mine." Yeah, Harry isn't too keen on Abrahamic deities getting up in his business. He believes in one thing and one thing alone, and it hasn't failed him yet.

He does shrug at the question. "Dunno'. One moment, I'm saddled with a Fallen in my brain, the next, I'm saddled with heaven's fire."

augh sorry for the slow

[ofthursday]

"A human, given the powers of the angels?" Castiel asked, eyes narrowing just a fraction, as he drifted slightly closer. "For what purpose?"

it's okay, you have a lot on your plate!

[forzare]

To say the least, he'd been given that power. Harry jolts subtly when the other shifts closer. He's a bundle of tensions, if only because that pervasive dark power that clings to Castiel is pretty creepy.

"It was a reward," he elaborates. "Or so I was told. I fought off the wiles of a fallen angel who sought to evilfy me. I won. I suppose Uriel considers meddling in my life a just reward." He's not even going to mention the Holy Swords, yeesh.

<333

[ofthursday]

"Whoever and whatever your world's Uriel is, this is not something a human should possess." It was wrong, on so many levels, and Castiel was quickly making up his mind. This couldn't be allowed to continue.

[forzare]

"It's not something for you to judge," Harry retorts hotly, though he has a feeling this is all about to go downhill real fast. He puts his right hand out, and shakes his head - clearly telling Castiel to stay where he was.

It's that right hand that hums with the angelic fire, and Harry will use it if he has to (which, it's looking pretty likely he will). "Back off."

[ofthursday]

Holy Fire was one of the few things angels feared, but Castiel wasn't an angel anymore. He was completely unfazed, and raised his own hand to, with a flick of telekinesis, throw Harry back toward the fence behind him.

[forzare]

That's something he knows all too well: the whuff of air from his lungs as he slams into something. It's not as solid as a wall - rather, it gives and shatters in one or two spots. Harry's shot goes long, blazing across the ground.

"Shit," he breathes, and quickly tries to get to his feet. Not that it'd help him, he'd just rather be on his feet.

[ofthursday]

Castiel advanced, slowly and purposefully, almost like a moving statue. "You should reconsider the wisdom in deciding to attack God."