OPENING LOG ~

[seafronted]

Who: EVERYONE EVER IN PROMENADE
What: IT'S THE OPENING GUYS, GET READY.
Where: Throughout the city!
When: Now!
Warnings: None, other than language and possible violence. HAVE AT IT.

Comments

NIGHT ⇥ ASSASSIN'S CREED: Malik Al-Sayf.

[truncately]

[When he had awoke the darkness had descended all around him. Dusty upon the path his feet had stumbled and suddenly the place he woke was not the realm in which he expected. Certainly he had been relocated yet had he fallen asleep since his arrival? The question was there but no answer could linger in the night air as he took in a breath then released, the sound close to silence catching the breeze of the evening. It was not often that one such as himself found his footfalls so misplaced that the world around him seemed unfamiliar, such choices were left for the degenerates that consumed too much of the drink and stumbled out into the deserts arms, left to wander aimlessly till found or never found again. Still, what immediately came to mind was that he certainly was not alone, certainly as the path was lined and occupied by men seeming to guard the path. Guards, he tended to avoid, tended to keep wary of and to his own space the dai traveled, darkened gaze taking in the surrounding area that held no familiarity within its aesthetic presentation. He had a fine enough memory, but this was foreign territory and the question presented itself to what wrong path had he turned and how long had he been blind before he awoke?

Still, though his feet remained halted for a moment they soon moved forward as luckily there was only two directions to choose from, from what he could see. One a head and one behind and quietly the Syrian took the path the men faced, walked from and kept his chin level though his footfalls remained silent upon the paths surface, his breathing even despite the rapid pounding of his heart within his chest. How hideously misplaced he had become and while natural instinct screamed panic, he was trained better than that and knew of better than that and would act accordingly despite the circumstances he had found himself within.

The one-armed figured traversed, unknowing to what would lay behind his steps.]

[estraine]

[ While chains main bind and inhibit the body, the mind is seldom so easily inhibited. Entrapped as he may be within the depth of the Vendicare, Mukuro traipses through minds and dreams as easily as one might decide to go for an after dinner stroll. Night caresses him like an old friend, and blindly he wanders, as much a victim to the circumstances as anyone trapped within themselves could be; it is amusement and curiosity that take him arm and arm, his companions through this midnight trek.

Quietly reveling in the texture, the feel of everything (it is almost like being awake, being solid and once more mobile), so real this dream is one could almost mistake it for real. With barely a glance at the guards keeping watch over the road, he steps light and quick down upon it, seeing only one other in front of him, taking in the posture, the gait, and keeping pace placidly behind, almost on the verge of the other's heels, and close enough to be uncomfortable. ]

placeholder-- off to bed.

[truncately]

[The sound footsteps behind him caught his attention as there was something different about them asides the steps of the guards that lay in wait along the edges of the pathways littered throughout the lands. It caused him to straighten his posture a little more and clench his fist at his side, his face tighten with a narrowing of his brows as he exhaled another breath, thoughts turning over and over within his subconscious on how to treat the situation. The dai could simply continue on his path and ignore whatever or whoever trailed closely behind him, he could move in a aggression and he could move in a more passive state but despite the situation, there was a creed to remember and follow, on that he respected completely and utterly despite the ordeal before him and quite the ordeal it was.

It eventually grew on his nerves though, the near pace behind him with each step that he could hear amongst the night air that surrounded. A pause, a moment and within a few more steps he halted his own gait suddenly, turning to his side and shifting his gaze downward to face the figure that had been trailing so close to his own path. Narrowing his brows, his mouth set in a scowl, lips turned downward as he noticed that the one who was there was nothing short of a young man, hardly reaching towards adulthood in the least. Trouble, most likely--still, he met the other with a stern expression and silent question upon his face, something akin to what is you want, boy?]

night, you. ❤

[estraine]

[ There is no method or order to this game, it's nothing more than Mukuro testing and pushing the limits of everything within this realm to the limit, with a large, healthy order of trolling on the side. Ahead of him, there man whose entire posture looks increasingly pissed off, even in the dim light, and the guards to either side, vigilant and watchful, both an unknown factor, the variable x. Where he previously had a purpose that dictated his actions back in the world of the waking, there is no thing of the sort compelling him here, and he finds himself lacking in motive. Searching for some semblance of a grasp on the situation, Mukuro tests the waters, beginning with this-

Everything about him spells Trouble, with a capital T. The unruly hair, the modified and carelessly worn uniform, to the thinly disguised mischief written all over his features and stance. Stopping precisely at the same instance, Mukuro holds his gaze boldly- but only for a brief moment. Ducking his head and glancing to the side, he looks every inch his age, shy and chastised. With a graceful sidestep, he seems to excuse himself without a single word said, peeking at him beneath lashes, as if in fascination. ]

♥

[truncately]

[And if anyone knew the difference between the innocence of youth and the dangers that it could possess, it was the dai as he stared down the smaller figure looking certainly displaced from his own world, though he was not much better to the other likely and nor the guards that remained within the paths that they both stood upon, eying their interaction with indifference. This feigned fascination or honest if there was such a thing in a look like that, caused him to flatten his brow in a more accusatory manner, no trust in the actions of the other that followed so closely and now, even with the ducking of his head and the sidestep, the shy demeanor, he holds no trust. A huff of breath and out of simply manners he dips his own head in greeting and turns his body to allow the other to pass if that is his intentions, if not--he'll take whatever comes to him at this point, seemingly prepared for the inevitable of conversation or complete dismissal.

Though what he is not aware of is his inability to part his lips and say much of anything while the night air clings to the sky.]

[estraine]

[ And the infamous crotchetiness of the older generation is renowned worldwide. If it's suspicion that shadows his mind, it's precisely what Mukuro intends- to throw the other off balance, and set him on edge. When the man turns, he smiles, and holds his laughter inwards. How could he refuse such an invitation? With one final survey of the other man, he proceeds past him, posture unguarded and relaxed. What seems like the end of a merely unsettling encounter is nothing but an illusion, one that is broken when Mukuro, without a pause in his step, makes use of the TENEKA: ]

Lovely night, isn't it?

[truncately]

[If such an ideal had been expressed he would be one to defend that he is certainly not as old as the other seems to think he is. The prime of his youth really though jaded through time and event, occurring being one to twist all manners considered lighthearted and thrust them into the dirt of the earth below, bury ideals under rocks within a desert landscape, spoiled in the sun and heat, frostbitten by the chill of the evening. A bleak outlook for certain, but in that moment in his life he was not one to be accepting or patient of much of anything, rather having the choice to walk away than continue to hold to it in regards to this place he was certain he did not belong in. The boy on the other hand, something not to be taken in humor, seemed to be enjoying himself quiet readily and when the sound of a voice jumped through his mind, he tensed and hesitated, the form of speech not being one he favored in this realm of blatant sorcery. It hurt his mind, brought goosebumps to the surface of the skin and he felt insane, possessed, a curse that someone would be contained due to.

Still, he tried to keep his composure and replied in the simplistic manner of a brief and blunt reply, his accent stemming through the translation that occurred due to the unknown object he was holding within the possession of his satchel slung across his person.]

Hardly in regards to circumstance.

[estraine]

[ Age is relative, in the end, and one must always remember that those older than the apparent age of thirty-five or less, to the younger generation, are all but senior citizens wobbling on canes across busy streets. Alas, it's merely an observation, and not enough of a coherent thought to accidentally translate through into conversation. And though this body is young, there are tell-tale signs of an older soul residing within it. You just have to look, that's all.

To him, the speech comes as naturally as normal communication does (through his voice box, off his tongue), it is only the replies which serve to unsettle him, as an unknown factor. How far does the extent of the returning thought go? Is it possible to go past simple conversation, into delving through one's personal thoughts?

While he's more than certain that should a mental attack of any capacity occur, he is more than proficient to counter it, it is, nonetheless, out of the ordinary.

But, back to the conversation at hand. Mulling the reply over in his head, he continues walking down the path, hands in pockets, eyes straight ahead. ]

Did you not wish to come home?

[truncately]

[Observation was owned by the set of eyes who took it in and processed it. In a way, it was to each their own and each their own opinion that could differ from the sphere of negative to positive and even linger in the crowded room of neutrality but in this case, to the dai it was obvious that the figure before him was in the more bothersome stages of youth, ones that many never grew from as they reached adulthood and for a moment he had a feeling that the obnoxious playfulness in the others attitude would be something to remain throughout his lifetime. It certainly did not help to clear the severity off his face which remained as glances are kept even and upon the other, the inclusion of the cursed form of communication not making the situation any better.

His steps do not follow the other for a moment in their halted state but in time, Malik figures that lingering upon the path will serve him no good and continues to walk, footfalls silent upon the earth and keeping a far amount of distance between himself and the unknown boy ahead of him, seemingly out for a leisurely stroll, uncaring of this world, unperturbed.]

This is hardly close to home.

NIGHT ⇥ Supernatural || Castiel

[socalledivinity]

[Castiel was disoriented. He recognized the feeling with some vexation, his lips thinning and eyes darting around anxiously, trying to rapidly acclimate himself to his surroundings. He did not know how he can come to this place, nor the reason, but it was peculiar, the muddled thoughts of doubt and confusion warring for attention.

He disliked the sensation.

Particularly since the last sensation he had experienced was the terrible momentary pain of the complete annihilation of his mortal body. It has been quick, yes, but that did not . He also did not find it comforting that he was apparently self-aware once more but still nearly completely human. A disappointing and depressing state and the fact that he was now in a completely unfamiliar place only increased the levels of his own anxiety. He found that he didn't really know what to do with himself, he was useless, and again that emotion he had identified as self-pity welled up within him.

That feeling too, he disliked.

To calm himself he stood now in the gardens of this strange place, quietly taking in the serenity that surrounded him. Oddly it made him slightly uncomfortable and he concluded that it was because he still did not have any answers and also, because the guards that littered the path made it feel disturbingly protected. He still wanted answers but he didn't feel like asking these stern people and instead Castiel waited. Perhaps he could ask someone who looked a bit more approachable.

When the one armed man caught his attention he took the opportunity, already intent on asking the other if he knew the name of this place.]

placeholder-- off to bed.

[truncately]

[He felt tired and his mind sped quickly through what could had happened to cause him to arrive in this rather strange place, narrowed brows, dark eyes noting the attire of the men that lined the paths and traveled from here to there every now and then with wary glances and stern expressions that the dai shot right back at them if eyes were to meet along the way. He didn't not care much for what they were patrolling and still stubborn in his own way he held not reason to question the men yet until he had sorted out his own place and time, which would take a moment if he was not being interrupted by the sound of footfalls upon the paths surface, heading clearly in his direction. A haze of memory and questions, a breath held within his lungs for a moment before a slow release through his nostrils, gaze turning and searching out the sound that neared him.

Malik's own footsteps didn't find time to halt immediately as they should have, but information gained was information learned and as he looked out into the darkness to see what he could of the man and his figure he could not help but wonder, strange attire and all, if he looked particularly like a threat or not. Still, one to follow his creed, one to live by the words of which he was taught under his singular hand only feel wayside to his hip, lingering amongst blades hidden beneath heavy falls of fabric. If he was to approach him and question him then so be it, but let the other speak the first word as a wary but severe glance is exchanged in turn.]

[socalledivinity]

[Castiel noted the defensive posturing, concluding immediately that he was a warrior of some sort. The stranger must perceive him as a possible threat, that would not bode well for Castiel if he wished to get any information from him and he would have to set his mind at ease somehow. Almost immediately he relaxed his own posture, made sure his hands were visible, and tried to quell the panic that this man could very well be a threat to him. His loss of "juice" had out him in a precarious position and he did not like having to rely on the human senses of his vessel.

It was disconcerting.

However, there was nothing he could do about it now and he had already caught the attention of this man. It would be a waste not to pursue it. Castiel opened his mouth, ready to ask the other if perhaps]

...

[Castiel closed his mouth, pursing his lips together. That was very odd, apparently he could not speak. This place was turning out to be more peculiar than he'd originally thought and it added one more question to his growing pile. A loudly projected thought that took the majority of his current focus.]

What would have the power to rob me of my ability for human speech?

[truncately]

[Defensive was certainly fact in what the other could read from him and defensive it would remain as if warding off others, even though such a presence, such a posture obviously held little success as the man who stood before him did little to change his own positing of feet and move onward. It was perturbing to say the least as usual the dai could look severe enough to move others to carrying on with a singular glance in their direction. Yet apparently for the stranger before him this much was not so and when he went to open his mouth, Malik awaited and expected a conversation. Unfortunately though, or fortunately for him perhaps, it was not to come and the other seemed to look more of a fish with its mouth agape than anything else. Rather silly, but rather strange as it seemed that only silence fell from the mans lips despite him seemingly being able to conjure a sentence. It bothered him because it worried him, for if speech was unable to be created then how would anything come to transfer between those attempting interaction and while he was not one to openly interact without reason, he was a straightforward man and one who aimed to get answers when desired, an informant of sorts as per his training required. Silence was important, a good ear, but a good tongue was always helpful.

Yet, this was all explained when suddenly a voice in his head became clear as if someone had been whispering directly into his ear, sending a chill down his spine and he shifted suddenly, looking from side to side even though it did not seem that there was another around them and he was certain he would have been able to sense them if that was the case. Swallowing heavily, looking a little more disheveled for a moment compared to his usual manner of composure, he tensed in the shoulders and crouched slightly because he was very aware that the mans lips had not moved when the voice sounded.

A tsk of breath sounded and he turned around, in his mind thoughts turned, unaware such considerations where being projected.]

What sorcery is this?

[socalledivinity]

[Oh. Telepathy. Well, that was unexpected. Castiel frowned, wondering just how far the ability went. Clearly it was limited or he would have been able to hear the other thinking. While it had been no trouble to look into the minds of humans before his unfortunate loss of power he now found the man's consciousness dark to him, closed off. Just like any other human.

Except of course for the apparent ability to speak through each other's minds. That was still something he would have to consider.]

I don't know about sorcery. The caster would have to be very powerful, the ability to converse telepathically isn't as easy as some would think.

[Castiel opened his mouth, trying to speak but again, finding his attempt turn out no results. It was odd considering that he felt no change within him that would prevent him from speaking. There was no pain in his throat that he knew was the occasional cause for humans to lose their voice and as far as he could tell his vocal chords were still in the right place. Very strange indeed.]

[truncately]

[Hearing the voice amongst his own thoughts once more the tension remained, his body turning back again once more to regard the figure standing before him, eyes narrowed in opened suspicion of the figure that was unknowing to him, yet seemingly a just a man, simple as that. The severity upon his features remains and the dai takes a tentative and careful step towards the other, his lips sealed as the words seem to cling to his subconscious even though there is no parting of his company's lips, no one around him close enough to create such a resounding echo amongst his mind. It is obvious the sound comes from him now, and while there is a threat there, hesitantly he replies, trying to focus inwardly on a thought similar to conversation and while it seems unnatural, laced with questionable regard to witchcraft, sorcery or some type of curse that steals away the willing and sound of voice, there can only be an attempt to assure that this is the method certain of.]

Interesting that you seem familiar to such a dark art.

[His tone is hostile in a manner but holds a mild curiosity for if the other was seemingly a threat to him, he would have long made the choice to make well of the situation, the darkness and the fact that his weapons still remained attached and upon his person. His night was developing in a path he would have never expected, but as per his creed, what he held to so dearly: everything is permitted.]

[socalledivinity]

[Castiel raised his brows in some surprise. So this one was unfamiliar with the practice of magic. And clearly distrusted those who were. Well, so such was the unfortunate state of ignorance and while he had to concede that many magic users certainly did not always do so for the greater good.

He believed Dean had some very firm opinions about Witches. He didn't entirely disagree with him. However, he did know that some magic, some spells, were perfectly reasonable and useful and he was sure that if this man could only be made aware of them he would agree.

But he didn't think that a lecture on the merits of magic right now was entirely appropriate and thus he said the first thing that came to mind, a simple statement to the fact.

It doesn't always have to be dark.

[Which probably wouldn't do much to alleviate any concerns on behalf of the other man. He was still a stranger who was claiming to know about magic and he'd gradually learned from Dean and his brother that humans could be skittish about things that were new to them.]

My name is Castiel. I am not a witch.