Castiel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ofthursday) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-12-02 12:41 pm
ofthursday) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-12-02 12:41 pm
Entry tags:
[OPEN]
Who: Leviastiel, and YOU~
When: December 1st-December 6th
Where: All over the city
Summary: The Leviathan go on a rampage and eat their way through the city.
Warnings: Almost everything? Seriously though this is an ancient body-controlling monster that will eat people alive, so yeah.
OOC: Same deal as the Godstiel log! Tag in your characters and post when the encounter is happening. Encounters can happen from just after midnight on the 1st (start of the day midnight) to noon on the 6th, just pick a day and time! Information for the plot is here and if people who haven't signed up still want to encounter Leviastiel, just drop me a note on the plotting post!
When: December 1st-December 6th
Where: All over the city
Summary: The Leviathan go on a rampage and eat their way through the city.
Warnings: Almost everything? Seriously though this is an ancient body-controlling monster that will eat people alive, so yeah.
OOC: Same deal as the Godstiel log! Tag in your characters and post when the encounter is happening. Encounters can happen from just after midnight on the 1st (start of the day midnight) to noon on the 6th, just pick a day and time! Information for the plot is here and if people who haven't signed up still want to encounter Leviastiel, just drop me a note on the plotting post!
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[They ignore the pain and hiss the words back, matching the language, and Castiel doesn't care that he can't understand. He can't understand much of anything anymore, not just because it's such a shock but because he's quickly running out of time.]
Maybe you shouldn't have made them so delicious.
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[Then some of his senses come back to him. Something is changing in the blue of Castiel's eyes and it's enough to catch his attention and startle him out of his rage-coma.]
No. [Cas is slipping. He keeps the angel - or the monsters - from going over the edge of death. Not yet.] I can make you less hungry.
I'll give you a chance. I'll extract you out of him and give you human bodies of your own, no powers. Just apologize.
[He knows they won't take it. But he has to offer it. Offer them the chance to save themselves, then he won't feel as bad for doing what absolutely has to be done.
He knows it has to be done anyway. This will end with him yanking the Leviathans from Castiel's body and crushing them to dust before their essence can reach the water, and this little deal is just a stopgap to patch over whatever stain of guilt might follow him. Will follow him.]
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[They smile, again, and in many ways it's the the most genuine they ever have done so.]
Take your stand, Father. For once.
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This whole race of feral disappointments tearing into the children He truly loves- it's almost a regret to sink His hand into Castiel's chest and bodily rip out an almighty fistful of blackness like slime, like scales, like hunger and primordial seas. From the hole He made they all come rushing out at once, and it's stomach-turningly easy to raise a hand-
-and the whirling vortex of darkness is gone.
No scream, no fighting, no thrashing or explosion or horrible death rattles. They're just gone. A thousand lives, and Castiel is at last empty. Chuck stares into the empty space where they were for a second before remembering Cas and turning to him, finding him healed before He's finished turning His head.
Every fiber of him is terrified at what He'll see.]
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He knows, distantly, that the Leviathan are gone, that he's alone in his vessel again and it's over. But it's almost like the connection between his mind and his grace and his body have been severed, and he lays limp against the ground and breathes in short, intermittent gasps. His grace is flickering, not even strong enough to shine out like angels usually do just before death, but he's not going quite that quickly either. He still has a minute or two left.
Somewhere, he finds the resiliency and the will that have always been his strongest assets and manages to whisper a few barely audible, broken words.]
It was always you.
no subject
Yeah.
[He looks at the little angel, once again broken. Again. His body is healed, but his grace is doing something... weird. And Chuck just wants to help- as if anything could help.]
Do you- uh- want me to fix that?
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No.
[He doesn't want to be fixed. He wants it to be over, finally truly over; after what he's done at home, what he's done here, what he's just found out, everything... Darkness can't come fast enough. He can't go on with these burdens.]
Let me go, this time.
[Please. Don't keep him in this yo-yo of life and death where each return brings only worse pain and more loss. He's done.]
no subject
Okay.
[He moves closer, taking Castiel's bloody hand in his, irrationally hoping he can warm it up. Chuck indulges himself one thing - one parental gesture he's wanted to do for so long - and brushes some bloody, sticky hair from his eyes.]
I meant it when I said I was sorry. I-
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But he can't manage the energy to be truly angry, and he doesn't want to die feeling that way even if he could. If this is going to be it--and he knows there's a chance it might not be--then he wants to die remembering what had made everything worth it. The Winchesters, the first time he truly made his own choices, the times there had been victories and the times there had been quiet peace, even for just a night. The bond he'd formed with Gabriel, Jinx telling him he was always welcome with them, sleeping on Chuck's couch for weeks and getting to be something approaching normal even if unbeknownst to him he was speaking to the Father he'd never met.
Crowley.
He curls his fingers around Chuck's, just a little, giving the faintest hint of a smile. He's never had a chance to make peace before death, like this; it's freeing, and for just a few moments the loss and the pain and all the horrors can't touch him.
He doesn't respond to Chuck's words, and he knows an answer probably isn't really expected. Instead, he closes his eyes at the feeling of the hand on his forehead, taking the last moment he has to recognize the feeling of a comfort so familiar to most children, but entirely new to him.
His eyes don't open again, and ashen wings spread out across the ground as if they've always been there.]
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There was a moment, once, that first time Castiel died, between the screaming light and the paranoid silence. When the terrible fury of Raphael was gone and Heaven's eyes were closed to that house and, surrounded by the gore and carnage of His son, Chuck fell to his knees in his living room and cried. He sobbed, feeling the weight of every death thus far and every death to come, and then he stood and He made a decision and locked away His grief in the assurance that that one decision would make everything okay.
And then there was the moment when everything slowed to a crawl. Chuck slipped between molecules and into the ether of spark and dart and things not-quite-matter and not-quite-mass, and found Castiel there. There, in that place of no consciousness and ashen wings, Chuck was able to lay his hand on the angel's bright, burning foreheads and simply look at him. One moment, and then He had been home again, and Castiel charging off to a storage locker in New Hampshire to save the Winchesters.
Except that had passed by in less than a blink; a fleeting mirage that was nothing but illusion- he never even left his living room, not really.
This is different, he knows. It's different than any death before. He's never seen it happen up close before. A child has never died in His arms. In all these eons, in all these hundreds of human lifetimes walking on his Earth, that has never happened to him.
For a full minute, he doesn't move. He shakes, but doesn't remember moving. He traces the outline of an ashen feather shakily, his hand clasping Castiel's cold one all the harder, and he isn't aware of when exactly it is that he gives up and bows his head over the angel and cries.
When he's finally done, he sends the body into nothingness, and makes the ocean to wash away the wings.
It's only right.]