[ 1/2, comment not here ]loyalboundNovember 20 2011, 20:19:40 UTC
[ For a minute or so, Castiel's not quite sure what he's seeing. Then - as River's carefree, happy, coherent demeanour in the first clip becomes clear - it's obvious. A memory. A series of memories. Or recordings. Maybe it doesn't matter--
Castiel's an angel. No, he's a soldier. He's been to Hell. He knows the sort of suffering that can be experienced either on the battlefield or down in the pit (or at the hands of one's own kind). He's seen it, experienced some of it, first-hand. He's a soldier. He knows it's sometimes necessary. But--
But there's never been any sense to pain without purpose. No, not even that, pain that's senseless in and of itself, deliberately inflicted on those that never asked for it, who don't need to, who shouldn't have to--
that doesn't matter anyway. none of it, it's meaningless. River's his friend. ]
[she knew. it had played for her too, but she couldn't watch it the whole way through. past the first seconds. it was like something exploded in her brain, bright and searing behind her eyes and she couldn't. and she hears his voice and he knows, god, he knows, even she didn't know this, buried under planets and secrets and recent things, good things, and she didn't want to know.
she's curled up in a ball in the corner of her room, visible, and the community still picks up her muttering.]
You've seen it- out of my head, they- they reached in and took it without asking- scraped the silver off my tongue and forged it, they're using me, and I don't- I didn't know, please, put it back, put it back- no no no no, I'm sorry-
[ castiel's not good with words, never has been. he never took to language in the same way some of his brothers and sisters did (zachariah, with his tongue so silver he could pass for a crossroads demon), and so words for him - they're functional, often blunt, sometimes clumsy in his borrowed mouth. like now. he doesn't know what to say. ]
I can't- [ put the memories back, i don't know what to do, i'm sorry? there was a time when he would have said something, probably the wrong thing, regardless of the consequences, regardless of not knowing what should be said, but he's changed since then. ... of course ideally a certain place would be getting razed to the ground right now, but not knowing the location puts a dampener on that urge. not that he's even sure he has the juice for that. he hasn't been able to world-hop under his own steam for--
... world-hop. ] Can I see you?
[ ... he'll probably still find a world-hop even if she says no. but you're supposed to ask beforehand, right. ]
[Fool.[Kefka was always interviewed with a screen between him and the interviewer. Standard safety procedures. Magic is dangerous; if you're going to play with fire, you should take precautions not to get burned. Animals infused earlier had seemed tame for days before going for the throat; it was no surprise that they took the same precautions with humans
( ... )
You can't. She doesn't know what to do. I can still feel it when it's not mine, it's matter on matter, they're minerals, I am not a geologist but I can still dig with my hands. [she makes a miserable, terrified sound and curls against the wall.] I haven't been washed and I want my tongue back.
....Yeah, they put a whisk in and stirred with no care for the condition of the batter. [He can try and talk her language. He...thinks he knows what's going on. In that video, she was looking into that man's head. Matter on matter--thoughts of others probably hurt. She doesn't know how to control it, how to qualify it, but she still does it--no geologist but a digger. And it's hard to speak about it because--trauma? Some baked-in anti-telling response? Hmmm.] I am the whisk and the batter, and I'm already half baked. I can't fix things in your head, but I can quiet them for a time. Slumber, sweetly, with a word - dreamless quiet. This is my gift, from one broken toy to the other.
[Which is to say, he can cast Sleep to try and help out. He may be a villain, but she's too interesting to leave her in this miasma of powers eating her up. The pain he enjoys is inflicted by him; she'd be more fun to play with if not stuck with this.]And, perhaps - I can find something to help more permanently. The trolls sing the lights fantastic, calmed,
( ... )
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Castiel's an angel. No, he's a soldier. He's been to Hell. He knows the sort of suffering that can be experienced either on the battlefield or down in the pit (or at the hands of one's own kind). He's seen it, experienced some of it, first-hand. He's a soldier. He knows it's sometimes necessary. But--
But there's never been any sense to pain without purpose. No, not even that, pain that's senseless in and of itself, deliberately inflicted on those that never asked for it, who don't need to, who shouldn't have to--
that doesn't matter anyway. none of it, it's meaningless. River's his friend. ]
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she's curled up in a ball in the corner of her room, visible, and the community still picks up her muttering.]
You've seen it- out of my head, they- they reached in and took it without asking- scraped the silver off my tongue and forged it, they're using me, and I don't- I didn't know, please, put it back, put it back- no no no no, I'm sorry-
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I can't- [ put the memories back, i don't know what to do, i'm sorry? there was a time when he would have said something, probably the wrong thing, regardless of the consequences, regardless of not knowing what should be said, but he's changed since then. ... of course ideally a certain place would be getting razed to the ground right now, but not knowing the location puts a dampener on that urge. not that he's even sure he has the juice for that. he hasn't been able to world-hop under his own steam for--
... world-hop. ] Can I see you?
[ ... he'll probably still find a world-hop even if she says no. but you're supposed to ask beforehand, right. ]
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River. Can I help?
[Sleep is often ill-gotten gains, sand in his fingers, but Max liked it well enough. Likes. He's not dead. Kefka fixed that.]
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[Which is to say, he can cast Sleep to try and help out. He may be a villain, but she's too interesting to leave her in this miasma of powers eating her up. The pain he enjoys is inflicted by him; she'd be more fun to play with if not stuck with this.]And, perhaps - I can find something to help more permanently. The trolls sing the lights fantastic, calmed, ( ... )
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