[Open Log] November Arrivals & Greeters/Protection Force

[thepull_mods]

Who: New November Arrivals, Greeters, & anyone else who happens to be hanging around the Tower Apartments to greet newcomers.
When: Month of November (Please Specify Date & Time in Thread Header)
Where: The Sector 4 Baseball Diamond, Parking Lot & Lobby of the Tower Apartments
Summary: This is your catch-all one stop log for arrival interactions!

Comments

November 3rd, 10:47 AM

[menageablank]

Balthazar swayed on the spot. He squeezed his eyes shut and clamped his hand over them, trying to stifle the many unpleasant sensations hitting his vessel. The last time he had felt this poorly, it had been after a drinking contest with Spain’s and Ireland’s national football teams. (Including the alternates. He won.) But he hadn’t had more than five glasses of scotch in the last hour, so that couldn’t be it. Warily, he removed his hand and opened his eyes. An unfamiliar baseball field greeted him. The crisp taste in the air and the dying greenery informed him that they were on the cusp of winter. There was a tang of something else in the atmosphere as well, something unfamiliar and strangely off-putting. His mouth twitched into a small sneer. "Wonderful." Like he didn’t have enough problems on his-

As the dizziness faded, recognition hit Balthazar like a two-ton weight. He realized why dread clung to the pit of his stomach and was also provided with a potential explanation as to why this place, whatever it was, seemed so inherently wrong. His "angel radio," as it was colloquially called, was crackling like he hadn’t known it to in eons. He could feel the presence of his dear and recently deceased brother Gabriel. Any other time he would be overjoyed, but angels don’t come back from the dead. Certainly not if Lucifer was the one to kill you. Speaking of, Gabriel wasn’t even the scariest issue. That spot would be shared by the aforementioned ruler of Hell and Michael, arguably the last ruler of Heaven. His oldest brothers who wanted to end the world (and much more importantly, him) both could be sensed in a very close proximity. The second glance he gave to his surroundings, old and overrun and worn down, started to look like they had been through the beginnings of an apocalypse. An alternate reality? He didn’t want to stick around to find out. If he could feel his brothers, then could most certainly feel him. He spread his wings and took to the sky, gone in an instant.

Balthazar didn’t make it far at all when the Pull got him. Something wrapped around his core (his core, his Grace, nothing to do with the meat suit) and yanked impossibly hard. Bal landed back in the outfield, stumbling and just as disoriented as before, and the street lamps within a few feet surged and burst. There would be no leaving. There would be no fighting either. All of the weapons he had were currently in Castiel’s possession. "… Oh Dad, I’m screwed."

[painhumbles]

WHAT HO. WHAT SOFT THROUGH YONDER ANGEL RADIO BREAKS. TIS THE EAST AND...

Okay, so it was fourscore and two months ago that Gabriel felt the presence of a new angel drilling on his radio like the sudden buzz of AM static on a poorly set alarm clock. It was jarring, to be honest, but not so jarring that he didn't even bother to think when he departed the hospital for the baseball diamond after sussing out which angel was responsible for the wake-up call.

Balthazar. A little on the obscurer side of angeldom, but no less one of the junior angels he could stand... Not that it took much to be more tolerable than Zachariah... And Uriel.

Gabriel may have lost something of a spring in his step since the accident, but his swagger was still there. That was the thing about archangels. You might have a vessel that was shorter than average and look like an overweight car salesman, but when you walked into the room, the other angels damn well looked.

"This is really becoming a thing now, huh?" What this was would... Have to be explained when Balthazar got over his shock. He waved off all potential protests and demands and went on. "C'mon. Let's hear the Hosannas and the 'I'm-not-worthys' and the 'gee, Gabriel, I thought you were deads.'"

[menageablank]

Balthazar never had the urge to throw up before. It was an entirely useless sensation and he had no idea why he was having it. He briefly closed his eyes again, desperate to make the world stop spinning so fast. He didn't really have a chance to recover before Gabriel arrived.

It had been a very, very long time since he had seen the archangel. There was no difference, so far as Balthazar could notice, nor was it a trick. One just doesn't fake being an archangel. It was really him. The second he opened his mouth confirmed it beyond any shadow of a doubt. Yeah, that brand of confidence and sarcasm was all him.

"Hosannas? You really have been gone for too long." Heaven hadn't been a place of rejoicing in ages, it felt like. Even with the flippant greeting, when Balthazar nodded his head at Gabriel as a hello, it read like he was deferring to the elder. "And this thing would be...?"

Because as nice as it is to see Gabriel, Balthazar is really keen on checking that he hadn't died at some point in the night without knowing it.

[painhumbles]

"Angels turning up in Canada," Gabriel shrugged, stepping a little closer, all to better invade Balthazar's personal space with- was that v-neck? (Little brother, you are a massive douche.) "Like clockwork with feathers." He threw out his arms exuberantly. "Welcome to Siren's Port, the last vacation you never wanted to take, but, hey... You get used to it."

Another pause and then, "And you're not dead... I mean, probably not. Given the outfit, I'm assuming the rumors I heard about you getting ganked were kinda exaggerated, hm?"

[menageablank]

"Canada?" Balthazar again took in his surroundings, now with renewed disapproval. "Seriously?" He'd take it over mid-West America, where he had been spending far too much time as of late, but it wasn't exactly high on his places to revisit list.

Then again, none of this had been part of his plan. For a moment, he crossed his arms nervously over his chest. It never led to anything good, his death being called out. But then he looked his older brother over, realizing the whole situation to be pot and kettle. "You're one to talk, Gabriel. If I'm not dead, that means you're not either. Not that I'm not pleased to see you, but surely you'll notice the irony."

[painhumbles]

"My reaction, exactly. Thankfully, you kinda forget after awhile. No one has any weird verbal tics, I haven't seen a single maple leaf, and hockey is about as much of a legit religion as Scientology. And one year and counting? Not a single long-distance dedication set to a Shania Twain song."

Gabriel mimicked his younger brother's pose and leaned forward. "Oh, I'm dead, all right. I think I've faked it enough to know when it's legit."

[menageablank]

Balthazar can't help the brief smile that comes at Gabriel's description. Along with just being plain amusing, it completely held the attitude that he knew so well on his brother. "I'll count my blessings, few though they may be." If only he knew just how lucky he really was, coming here when he did.

He tilts his head to look down at Gabriel, although it doesn't really feel like he's doing it. Vessel wise, Balthazar has a few inches over the archangel. But in reality, Gabriel absolutely towered over the younger angel. "Well as you figured out, I'm not. I had been right in the middle of a lovely bottle of wine when I showed up here." Not to mention contemplating betraying his best friend so the fool wouldn't kill himself. But you wouldn't find Balthazar mentioning that tidbit anytime soon. "So, any reason why we've been transplanted to the Great White North and in some cases, resurrected and sprung free from cages which really shouldn't have been sprung?"

[painhumbles]

Gabriel's expression shifted to one of great contemplation, as if he was receiving revelation on the subject right this very moment, because surely that's all archangels really did. Smite, smite, get revelation, smite some more, lalala pretentious dickery. Never anyone mind that Gabriel had fallen so far from an actual archangel without ever really Falling. It was the image that counted.

Gabriel's concern with image faded the minute he stopped playing up the act and just shrugged, "No clue. Everyone's got an idea about the how- not so big on the why. You oughta be used to that by now." He patted Balthazar on the arm in a vaguely condescending way.

Yeah, angels hadn't really had any big WHY revelations since before God departed for greener pastures. Siren's Port was no different.

[servingfather]

Well, well. Look what the Core pulled in this time. Michael had thought Balthazar to be dead the last time he looked over the garrisons. Killed in one of the battles to "stop" the Apocalypse. Obviously Balthazar's miraculous return deserved an in person visit from the archangel in charge.

In an instant Michael is there, hanging out in John's body with his hands inside the green jacket pockets. His expression was stern as if he'd just caught his kid reaching into the cookie jar when he'd been told he couldn't have any sweets. Things were different here, Michael would admit that - no war or fighting - but that didn't mean he didn't want answers about Balthazar's apparent Houdini act.

"Brother." A single word but there was so much in it. His disapproval, his anger, his curiosity and so much more.

[menageablank]

It was times like this that Balthazar appreciated the bluntness of the English language, for there was no other word for this situation besides screwed. Bal was completely and totally screwed. Centuries and centuries of training hardwired into his system kicked in. Once Michael arrived, Balthazar stood at attention. He at least looked slightly more like the soldier he had "died" as, although the selfish, hedonistic runaway couldn't be completely hidden away. "Michael." His tone was equally revealing, although there was really nothing in it besides panic. "You got out. ... Good."

It was a really sad attempt at trying to appear pleased.