He had been in Damascus when he’d caught sight of the door. And while a lot of things have changed recently, the order to go through the door to Milliways as it finds him has not been rescinded
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How about the young woman with her hair all but shaved off, in the dark green uniform, with the odd-eyed dog at her heels? She's got herself a drink, and a-
"Whurf," says the dog, or something like it; he's noticed they're being watched.
"Oh- hello, Castiel," says Ellen, looking up. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
He may be staring at this boy a bit in particular. He resembles another boy Castiel spoke to here briefly some time back (briefly enough to walk away from the conversation without a name).
It is a little curious, but not extraordinarily so, from Castiel's vantage point.
Is it raining angels in here or something? Coyote will grudgingly admit that they aren't all bad. But her last angelic encounter could have ended better.
Rachel has been bartending tonight and thus been a little less sensitive about who's watching her and for how long. But when her shift is over and she picks up the drink book to go sink into one of the squashy armchairs, another person watching her is a little easier to pick up on.
When she looks up and finds an unfamiliar man watching her, without the somewhat-usual leer, she's still wary.
It's just that the confusion makes it a much softer sort of wariness.
"Uh, yeah." Rachel straightens into less of a slouch in the chair, setting the book on her knee. "She woke up, though, so I'm done. One of the wait-guys can get something for you, though."
He'll eat sometimes, either to experiment with food, or to accept the hospitality of another. And occasionally will have a cup of coffee in order to fit in better. But neither food nor drink is a requirement.
Elrond is still around. Truth be told, he is not in a hurry to return to his packing and sorting. And there are still so many things here to see.
And so many beings to be seen by.
After a little while, it really does necessitate some sort of reaction, and so the watcher gets a lifted eyebrow. Just a fraction. It's not an unfriendly gesture. More like a quiet question mark.
Elrond walks a little closer. He moves lightly and gracefully, as elves do, and up close his face does look, well, neither young nor old. Even if he does look worn these days.
For those who may feel these things, there might be a sort of afterglow from the ring of power he used to wear. One does not spend years as a Ringbearer without mark; even if the Ring is not the One.
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"Whurf," says the dog, or something like it; he's noticed they're being watched.
"Oh- hello, Castiel," says Ellen, looking up. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
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"Ellen. Yes, it has been some time."
Chronological. Emotional. Experiential. Some time in many ways.
"You look different."
He does not recall her hair being so short.
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Something of an understatement.
"My Garrison has been mobilized to avert the Apocalypse."
That would seem to sum it up, wouldn't it?
"I am sorry to hear that you have been ill. You have recovered?"
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It's a bit unnerving, really.
But James does what he always does when people stare at him.
He waves.
Cheerfully.
"All right?"
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It is a little curious, but not extraordinarily so, from Castiel's vantage point.
He nods in response to the question.
"I am all right," he replies.
"Are you all right?"
Human conversation is all about reciprocity.
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James grins.
Even while he's thinking, 'This bloke's a bit of a nutter.'
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Castiel nods.
"That is good."
"You are exceedingly cheerful."
It is just an objective observation. It stands out -- most people Castiel has interacted with lately have been quite grim.
The possibility of the impending Apocalypse will do that.
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Is it raining angels in here or something? Coyote will grudgingly admit that they aren't all bad. But her last angelic encounter could have ended better.
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"You are not human."
Not that this makes her an oddity in Milliways. But it bears stating.
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And what's with the trench coat?
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"No. Many in Milliways are not."
Not even him, as she has pointed out.
"What are you?" he asks, curiously.
He can read some creatures in Milliways quite well. See their natures. At other times, clarification is a good thing.
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When she looks up and finds an unfamiliar man watching her, without the somewhat-usual leer, she's still wary.
It's just that the confusion makes it a much softer sort of wariness.
"Um... hi?"
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"Hello."
His head tilts to the side, slightly.
"You were tending the bar."
See? He's been paying attention.
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"Uh, yeah." Rachel straightens into less of a slouch in the chair, setting the book on her knee. "She woke up, though, so I'm done. One of the wait-guys can get something for you, though."
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He'll eat sometimes, either to experiment with food, or to accept the hospitality of another. And occasionally will have a cup of coffee in order to fit in better. But neither food nor drink is a requirement.
"I am merely enjoying the peace."
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And so many beings to be seen by.
After a little while, it really does necessitate some sort of reaction, and so the watcher gets a lifted eyebrow. Just a fraction. It's not an unfriendly gesture. More like a quiet question mark.
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His head tilts to the side for good measure.
Combined, the two maneuvers might as well say, Curiouser and curiouser.
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For those who may feel these things, there might be a sort of afterglow from the ring of power he used to wear. One does not spend years as a Ringbearer without mark; even if the Ring is not the One.
"May I help you?" he asks.
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"I am not in need of assistance."
"Are you?" he asks.
It's polite to offer a return of favor.
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