We who live in prison, and in whose lives there is no event but sorrow

[to_rebel]

Who; inforapound and to_rebel
What; Balthazar's doppelganger is an evil, evil angel.
Where; At the border of the Forest, just west of town.
When; Friday evening, November 18
Rating; R, just to be safe. It's probably not going to be pretty.
Status; Closed, complete

Comments

[inforapound]

The creature that had taken Balthazar's place had been quiet, too, over the past several days. It had begun as simply habit inherited from his template-self, a lack of inclination to involve himself in anything that neither piqued his interest nor involved those few people he'd come to take an interest in. It had continued as protective camouflage as that interest turned slowly towards loathing. His template had been a fool, shackling himself to other creatures as though there were any meaning in it at all.

As though the very lesson against it weren't staring him straight in the face every time he stretched his senses even a little.

That had pricked and itched and scraped, and now, finally tired of it, Balthazar's mirror had decided to cut the entire piece of folly off at the very source. It all came down to Castiel, really - every foolish decision, every pathetic attempt to pretend that loyalty was anything other than an empty word

[to_rebel]

The sound was immediately recognizable -- how could it not be? -- but the abruptness of it startled Castiel. He hated not being to extend his senses, to see beyond what human eyes could see. He hadn't expected either Anna or Balthazar to come upon him here; in fact, Anna tended to keep to herself and if Balthazar ever sought him out, Castiel wasn't sure he wanted to deal with the implications.

He didn't start badly, but the jump was obvious to one who was looking -- which Balthazar probably was. He turned, expression as carefully neutral as he could manage, and then fell into confusion. "Excuse me?"

[inforapound]

There was something alien in the curve of Balthazar's smile, a note of sheer viciousness that had never been there during their long years as comrades. That would not appear even later, in the cunningly ruthless, cultivatedly amoral creature he would show the world after the Apocalypse shattered.

"Your entire..." Balthazar circled one hand in a deliberately vague, dismissive sort of gesture. "Fascination with these ridiculous places." He rocked into motion to pace wide and mortal-slow around Castiel, easy enough to follow - deliberately so. "You know, it started in a forest. The conversation that led up to you killing me."

[to_rebel]

It was that cruelty in Balthazar's expression that wasn't inherent in the angel he knew that set Castiel on guard. Granted, he didn't know this Balthazar that well; in point of fact, a future self had killed this Balthazar. He would have thought it strange if there was no bitterness directed his way. A vicious expression, though, was unexpected.

Nor was the circling. Castiel turned to keep Balthazar in view. A part of him -- a fairly large part -- wanted to reply with That wasn't me. How much had he done to prove that it wasn't? "Did it?" It was a fairly inane question, neither accusatory or defensive, but it served a purpose. A simple request for more information, with an underlying Why are you here?