video;

[strangelic]

I want to--Um...

I feel like life would be improved here if we all played more games, and... [ Kate, why are you making him do this? ] I-I wanted to ask if anyone else had any games that they could teach us. Party games, this time, not card games. Like Twister.

[ He glances off screen cautiously, then looks back, trying to seem more courageous on the subject than he is. ]

Kate thinks that life here would be much improved if we all played more together, and I have to agree with her. Play is important...for the well being of people, especially those who don't have anything else to occupy their time.

So...that is to say, if we could organize a...party, I suppose, everyone would be invited. We could hold it at the bar.

[ Yep, that's it. ]

Comments

action;

[strangelic]

[ Castiel didn't believe a word of it, because as they'd already been working out, Dean was ready to explode at any possible moment over a thousand other things he'd stowed away. Asking him to do it with this, with how he felt, was unkind on every possible way, but Castiel didn't know how to deal with in the short term. Dean needed to know that it would be feasible to be them again first, before they could actually achieve it for real.

They'd opened a door, and everything was pushing against the other side of it. All they were doing, now, was shoving a heavy dresser up against it and hoping that the truth wouldn't get through. Castiel knew that, and if what Lucifer had told him was true... No, it couldn't be. He shook his head ever so slightly, denying it even now. Dean was in too much agony for it to be true.

He stepped back, and gestured for Dean to come with him. ]

Let's put everything back where it was. Come on.

action;

[kickingand]

[ Dean still didn't feel like he could take a breath. It felt as if something had jammed up hard inside of his lungs, was situated right beneath his rib cage, sitting hard and fast and refusing to dislodge. He couldn't pull himself free from his insides and no matter what he tried, no matter what he thought or didn't think - all the words he wasn't saying - nothing was removing it and he was petrified. It didn't help that Cas kept compounding it with more words upon words, that everything had to mean a hundred times more than he could bear and so it remained heavier and heavier until Dean was sure he was going to snap.

But at least he backed off for now.

At least there was that.

Dean remained stoically broken, his expression falling nervously flat, edgy and still torrentously upset. He wanted to storm out, wanted to give himself room, but instead he made his way closer, picking up a book along the way and tossing it in his palm. If he wasn't going to storm out then this would have to do for now, and he flipped open the pages, ruffling through even more alien language. ]

Sure.