driftfleet_ooc | THE DECEMBER TEST DRIVE MEME

marsiva/ships;

[ there are.. worse fates to be consigned to, beyond sailing the cosmos on a fleet of ships, at the mercy of unseen 'viewers'. dying bloody at the hands of demons and crotes, for example, but then, perhaps castiel's world view is a little bit skewed. maybe this is a hallucination, or some strange afterlife, he can't say - but it's certainly not earth, not anywhere on earth he's ever seen, at least, and the sleek, sharp sterility of it reminds him of heaven.

there are no scars, no wounds, no blood. he's got the same old scars he's had for years now, but nothing else, no broken ribs, no gouged flesh, no throat torn out or blade in his belly. just the same flesh and bone he's inhabited for a handful of years now. he's certainly cleaner than he's been in years, though, that's for sure, and someone's been friendly enough to patch the holes in his jacket and jeans. great. nice. really important.

stripped of his weapons, cas can't help but feel a little vulnerable and hair-triggered, liable to turn quick on anyone who doesn't approach in any obvious way, but all that falls away once he finds the cafeteria. there's so much food, just there, for the taking, ready and waiting. cas digs in like a man starved, doesn't even bother to find a place to sit, just haunts the counters taking his fill, and you'd better bet he's going to stuff every available pocket with as much food as he can carry - wrapped sandwiches, fruit, cookies, you name it. if it fits in a pocket, it's going there.

once he's dumped unceremoniously onto a ship, so help him he'll still have his pockets as full as possible ]

planetside;

[ why is it so goddamned cold?

castiel remembers what it was like, to not have to worry about keeping a regulated body temperature, to be unaffected by heat and cold. only a handful of years ago he would've been comfortable here, at ease; thankfully he's got his heavy boots on, and his jacket pulled tight to his scruffy chin, but it's not exactly effective insulation, so he's spending as much time indoors as possible, thanks.

mostly he's mingling with the natives in the attempt to learn and scavenge what he can, but he finds himself himself drawn to the nearby temple, as if, somehow, it's going to provide him with answers, as if god could possibly be lurking here, on this frozen rock, ready and waiting with an explanation. but no. it's just quiet, and solemn, and damn cold as all the rest. ]

You look cold.

[The voice that comes from near beside him is kind, and belongs to a young woman with what could be a metric ton of blood red hair. (It's not really that much. It's just got a lot of volume.)

She's dressed as if she just walked out of a medieval fantasy, because the standard issue jumpsuits are thin and uncomfortable. She has an aura that feels like a pull on the attention, making her seem almost brighter. That dims as she removes the iridescent pink cloak from around her shoulders and offers the shining cloth to him.]

Here. You probably need it more than I do just now.

[ castiel feels her before he sees her, some presence about her like magnetic waves that pull at him, tugging at his dwindled grace like little fingers, and he turns, tense, hackles raised.. but nothing about her jumps out at him as inherently threatening.

of course that doesn't necessarily mean anything, cas isn't exactly what he used to be, but in the end as far as he's concerned he's living on borrowed time, anyway, so what's the point? nevertheless, once that energy shifts when she slides off the cloak, he finds himself a little more interested in the thing itself, than the oddly dressed woman offering it. ]

That's all right, I'll manage. [ he says, loose and easy, but he's stepping forward anyway, brow furrowed thoughtfully as he leans forward, curious, running his fingers over the gleaming fabric. ] What is this? An artifact?

It's called The Nymph's Cloak. It's a magical item from my world. It basically makes the wearer more appealing, verbally and physically.

[The fabric is something between silky and soft. It just feels good to the touch. Luxurious and cozy all at once.]

It's one of a kind, but it's not a relic. Magical items are fairly common on my world. My chainmail and boots are enchanted too.

Interesting.

[ cursed and haunted objects aren't unfamiliar to him, though she'd used the word enchanted, and this thing certainly doesn't feel aggressive - but then, some tricky things often don't, and kind as she might seem he is not wont to trust easily. objects like these are often more trouble than they're worth.

so, soft and good as it might feel to put his fingers on (and tactile a creature castiel has become, recently), he still lets it drop, stuffing his hands back into the pockets of his canvas jacket. ]

It certainly has that effect.

Edited 2016-01-18 03:39 (UTC)

[ Well, that's a far more familiar reaction than how she's usually been given by people in the Fleet. She takes no offense, and slings the cloak back around her shoulders. Because it's freezing on this planet.]

It's just a little helping hand for sticky situations. It won't hurt you, and neither will I.

[ She appeals with a calm sincerity of one who's said this sort of thing before. ]

My name is Syeira. I'm one of the captains of the Red Fish.

[ she doesn't press the issue, which is a step in the right direction as far as he's concerned; cas might be chilled to the bone, but he'll manage. so long as he doesn't, you know, spend the night out here, he'll find his way back indoors soon enough, so it's best that at least one of them is using that spooky thing. ]

Castiel. [ captain of.. nada. his dark brows lift curiously, shoulders hunched for warmth as he moves a pace or two nearer to ease the conversation. he's glad of the distraction, this place isn't giving him any answers anyway, feels cold and vacuous and hollow in a way that chafes him. so smalltalk it is. ]

You been here long? With this whole.. [ gesturing to generally everything with his shoulders and head. ] .. fleet, thing?

[She is well versed on when to back off.]

Eight months now. Which is longer than some, not half so long as others. Sorry you got dragged here when we got to the planet of frostbite. A couple months back it was a coastal place. Very warm. And very abruptly rainy.

[ castiel's brows shoot up a little higher. eight months, huh? and twice as long for others. considering his age, that's really a blip in time, but cas is all but mortal now, has been gauging time by human standards for years now, and that's perhaps a little longer than he'd expected to hear, but hey. ]

Fair enough.

[ an easy shrug, and he snorts softly. ]

Nah, it seems in line with my sort of luck, anyway. So that's how it works? We sail around the cosmos, hop onto planets and mingle awhile?

That's the surface of it, yes. Supposedly we're being watched, but no person we ever run into outside the fleet has ever heard of Atroma or this 'show' we're on.

[She crosses her arms around her middle. Because she gets tetchy when talking about Atroma, and also because it's freaking cold.]

But sometimes we get shot at in the middle of the void- er space. So there's that to look forward to.

[Sarcasm. Tasty tasty sarcasm.]

[ funny how.. familiar that all sounds. being watched. dancing to someone else's tune, at the mercy of the whims of invisible powers. it puts a bitter taste in his mouth. ]

Right, right. [ he says, with a grin that doesn't entirely reach his eyes, and an easy, breathless laugh. ] Well, I'll worry about crossing that bridge when I come to it. Meantime.. [ rolling his shoulder toward the exit. ] Might want to find some heat, I'm freezing my ass off in here. [ and she's not looking particularly comfortable, either. ]

The whole planet is like this. It's almost enough to make you want to stay on your ship, but I'm willing to freeze a little in exchange for some actual sky over my head and ground under my feet.

[But walking will help, surely. Keep her their feet from freezing off.]

May I ask where you're from, Castiel?

I hear you.

[ cas isn't particularly fond of tight, inescapable spaces, for the same reasons any soldier might be, and he values his freedom more than almost anything - so yeah. biting cold or not, the fresh air and open space is still preferable. at any rate, he balls his hands into fists in his pockets and starts moving, back toward the temple's entrance. ]

Well.. [ what an oddly complicated question, for him, when it should really be so simple. but then, he supposes that's to be expected. ] Earth, most recently. Nice planet. Greener than this place. [ the state of humanity notwithstanding. ]

[ after a beat: ]

You can call me Cas.

[ it's rare enough that he has to introduce himself to anyone these days, and even though he'd offered it, he finds that the sound of his full name itches uncomfortably under his skin. ]

[Nods at his request. She'll call him whatever he's comfortable with.]

Oh, but you're not actually a Terran?

[Very intrigued! Do go on!]

It's not often to meet someone who's been to Earth, but isn't actually from there.

[ terran isn't a word he's familiar with, but the context is easy enough to understand. chuckling slow and easy, castiel rakes a hand back through his messy hair almost nervously. ]

Yeah, there aren't too many who can manage it.

[ but they're edging into dangerous territory he isn't really keen on visiting, so a shame that she's intrigued, but he's quick to shift the spotlight over to her. ]

What about you? What corner of the universe do you call home?

[Well, because he's clearly one who traverses planes, she is rather excited to explain.]

I'm from the Prime Material Plane. The one that Toril ended up in after the sundering, not Abeiran Material Plane. I know those two are so easily confused, since they're basically twins.

[She actually just assumes he has any idea what she's talking about.]

[ ... nnnnope.

to be fair, he's familiar with the idea of alternate realities and the multiverse, and while god had written his angels to be specifically concerned with earth, cas knows full well that the cosmos is infinite, that there are layers to existence and time that he will never know or understand or see.

well, until now, apparently. funny, how unexpectedly his life has been turned, these past few, brief years. cas doesn't interrupt her, but his brows shoot up nearly to his hairline. ]

Can't say I've ever been there.

[Oops. Well that's embarrassing. She blushes a little, but laughs it off awkwardly.]

Sorry, I got carried away. I mean, I know only one person from the Prime Material has ever traversed to Earth. That's primarily why we even know of its existence. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that.

[ she's embarrassed, and that's cute, it contrasts with the elegant, regal air about her in a way he finds both fascinating and entertaining both. ]

Don't worry about it. Easy mistake. [ a cocked brow. ] I'd still like to hear about it.

Are you sure? I could end up talking for weeks.

[She's kidding but not.]

Maybe if you narrow down the spectrum it'd be more manageable for us both.

[ okay, fair enough, it's a pretty broad request. cas rolls his eyes thoughtfully up toward the sky as they step out of the temple. ]

Alright then, start with the people. You're clearly not human, so tell me what you are, tell me what sort of people live in this.. [ vague, languid gesture. ] .. Prime Material Plane.

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child_of_bhaal - 2016-01-19 22:25 (UTC) - Expand

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heavenonearth - 2016-01-19 23:16 (UTC) - Expand

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child_of_bhaal - 2016-01-19 23:43 (UTC) - Expand

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heavenonearth - 2016-01-20 00:59 (UTC) - Expand

[Sam had simply been visiting a particular shipmate here that he knows well — he doesn't expect much of anything these days, even if he's prepared for all hell to break loose figuratively and literally at any waking moment. He's just happy to not have to deal with the sky falling on him this month, alright? Small blessings. His brother doesn't have the Mark of Cain, that's a step in the right direction. And... They're working on... uh. Trying to fix other issues.

/waves hand dismissively

Anyway, point is. This isn't a bad place. It's relaxing.

But he doesn't anticipate seeing Cas. At all. And certainly not looking like that. Or having the telltale signs that he's been clearly pillaging food, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.]

Cas?

[ castiel's initial reaction is instinctive, sudden, his body snapping tight and tense, his hands moving to his hips for the handgun that isn't there - but it passes just as quickly as it came on.

this isn't lucifer. cas might not have much grace left, but he's got enough to see that much, which means this must be - ]

.. Sam?

[ from the look of it, he's just as shocked as sam. it's been.. years since he's seen his face, and sam looks different, feels different, older, his signature familiar but changed. castiel's shoulders slacken and his eyebrows lift, his eyes raking down and up sam's body like a scan, his hands falling harmlessly to his sides. it's all the weirder, given how recently he's seen dean - not his dean, young dean, the other one-- nevermind. at any rate, he exhales hard. this gets no less weird, for practice. ]

Whoa. It's, uh.. it's been awhile.

It sure has.

[... Nnnnot really. But he figures if Cas is saying that, it must've really been a while. He tucks his transcriptions of a few files under his arm, moving to step closer to his friend. He looks... a bit more like Cas when they'd been in Adstringendum. The whole 'hobo in a forest' look, anyway. But something about him is very different, something more obvious than it is subtle.

Sam is different, for sure. A bit thinner than Cas likely remembers — after all, Sam had been at his fittest back then. Now he's still muscle, but it's all much leaner, much more narrow. He's got more of a scruff shadow, hair a bit longer. Long road, friend. Long road.]

You seem kind of spooked. I'd guess where you're from currently, but I think I might want to let you fill me in on where you were last at.

[ they're all changes that certainly aren't lost on castiel. for all these years have felt longer, in ways, than his billion year life before them, he still remembers sam clearly, everything about him, how he'd looked and felt and behaved. he doesn't even need to sense that sam is from another timeline at all; the evidence is standing right in front of him.

but he's not wrong. castiel's changes certainly aren't subtle at all, and he's a far cry from the angel he once was, far more comfortable and settled in this skin than he ever was as an angel, his movements all smooth and easy and natural. still, there's a definite tension in the line of his shoulders when sam approaches, and castiel himself makes no attempt to close the gap. it's a.. mistrust of sorts, a wariness that's evident in the way his eyes sharpen, laser-focused on sam's face, in the way he tucks his hands into his pockets almost defensively, his posture closed.

he doesn't know sam. not anymore. they hadn't exactly parted ways on the absolute best of terms, and after all that's happened.. well. he's cautious. ]

2014. [ he answers, like it's the most natural thing in the world, like a conversation about timelines is entirely normal, like 'when' and 'where' are interchangeable. ] Outside Kansas City. What about you?

THE DECEMBER TEST DRIVE MEME

endverse!castiel / supernatural

Planet schmanet

aww yeah

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just /handwaves that he's on the same ship at the same time visiting or some shit

shh we do what we want

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