hadriel | video;

Um... I'm Castiel. Some of you know me, obviously. I sometimes show myself at the clinic--I'm a healer. Well. [ He looks down into his lap. ] I try to be. The ailment that so badly hit us last month was beyond my ability to remedy, and for that I am deeply sorry.

However if there is anything, any scrape, any...broken leg, or incurable sickness... I should be able to resolve it. Should be. Given the state of my powers here, it does seem to be a game of chance. But I have healed far worse in the past. It's better, surely, to let me try than to live with pain and scarring when I might help with both.

But that isn't what I was here to say, not really. I wanted to... I want to...

I haven't been very clear, and I feel that it's important, given the way things were, and the way things will likely be again. I hear you, all of you, when you turn to prayer. It's impossible to avoid, and while I understand that it is private... I just wanted to apologize, either way.

[ ooc: Castiel doesn't hear all character's prayers since you can opt out of that on his permissions post, however! It's a fun way to make new CR with him if you're interested; just drop him a prayer in his IC inbox! ]

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But how intriguing, Castiel darling.

[And potentially useful.]

I suppose it has to be sincere? In order to work?

Sincerity...um. Sincerity is preferable. But it isn't as though you must pray to God. Or even speak out loud.

Everything is that much louder, here, with so few voices speaking.

I certainly have more faith in you than I ever have in any god, dearheart.

Yes. It's very lonely, isn't it?

[ He nods, quietly. ]

Yes, it's very... It isn't that I don't have occupation, I do. And company. But it is quiet, without the people--and without the bees.

You could pray to me, if you like. I hear those prayers louder than any others, and I would always be listening.

I know.

I'm coming to see you. I work best in touching distance.

Okay. Perhaps by the river? I like it there.

Bianca likes the river too. The endless motion of water reminds her that a wider universe still exists, and the lush growth of Hadriel's strange riparian plant life is almost enough to convince herself she's not trapped underground.

She approaches the angel smiling, her hyenas trotting behind her, and she doesn't stop until her arms are wrapped around him, her head on his shoulder. Bianca is one of a species created to be aware of each other at all times, to move in concert like a hive of bees, and she and Castiel are both the only ones of their kind in this tiny, stagnant pool of reality.

She is not accustomed to praying; but she aches with the need to not be alone in her own head. Perhaps that amounts to the same thing.

Castiel, like Bianca, sees the water as beautiful, but it is also alien; it doesn't carry with it everything he knows about its source, minerals leeched from boats in the water, animals and plantlife, even the rocks themselves, because he doesn't know where it comes from, or where it will go. There's a sensation of distance even in analysis of the water itself, but he can watch it and admire it none the less, even feed the cave fish on occasion, and that is something that he would rather not do without; a connection.

He glances up at Bianca's approach, but doesn't hesitate, accepting the hug the moment it falls on his shoulders and reciprocating the way he was taught, the way he knows best, firmly and with generous intent. He counts the exact, precise length of time that each of his other hugs seems to have lasted for, them begins to relax his shoulders, as though willing to release her and be released.

"It's the quiet, isn't it? How long have you endured it?"

Connection. It's exactly that Bianca craves, exactly that that she reaches for when she touches him.

There are other telepaths here: there's Wanda, there's Pell, there's Ushahin, and Bianca is friendly with them all. Still, none of them are her kind, none of them entirely fill that need. Nor, really, does Castiel, but his extradimensional nature, something larger and wider and deeper than he body he wears, make him a little closer.

She can hear him counting, and she smiles into his shoulder, not very willing to be released.

"Always. In a sense. I was created to be part of something larger - although, admittedly, I was equally never willing to subsume myself that way. It's harder, here. I can't even deceive myself that I'm alone by choice."

Edited 2016-10-06 14:38 (UTC)

When the hug goes past the few seconds, he doesn't question her--rather, he questions his own assessment of how long hugs can continue for. With others, there had always seemed to be a rule, a limit, which he'd found odd, because hugs were so comforting and openly familiar that surely if humans liked them so much they'd be hugging all the time. Castiel certainly liked them, and he found no social discomfort in this one lingering, because social discomfort wasn't really a thing he struggled with.

"Is anyone ever alone by choice? Nothing exists entirely by itself, and should not; even light has darkness. I was... I was forced to be alone, for a time, but even then it wasn't like this. It's unsettling. I think the human term for it is 'eerie', but I can't be sure. Is that right, do you think?"

What constitutes a, uh..."prayer" where you come from?

Well... Making deliberate mental efforts to speak to a deity, a force higher than yourself.

For instance, if you were to say "God help me" in a moment of trouble, I would hear it.

Sorry.

[ River's prayers during the confusion event was a lot of cursing people who voted for Confusion in the first place. ]

[ And just like that, it seems like the thing Armand needs the most is suddenly being presented to him without him going to look for it. Only one draw back it seems. That this person is of God. It is going to be a gamble. ]

I dare not pray, but I do need of your service, sir.

Huh.

[Interesting. He's heard of prayer as a colloquialism, but not as a literal thing. That's...

Hm.]

Got a lotta prescience over other people's thoughts, do ya?

Only when I'm close, and I don't...I don't intrude. It's a personal choice. Reading other people's feelings and thoughts--it's rude, isn't it?

There's nothing to apologize for. I voted for Tranquility.

Of course. What can I - I hope - do for you?

I have been badly hurt and it is not healing. I'm afraid I'm not sure what is the matter. It has always healed before. Perhaps there is something you can do.

Perhaps there is. Where can I meet you? Can you move?

I am able to walk. The clinic would be the best location to meet.

The clinic then, I will be there shortly.

I'd say so, yeah. But, eh, you ain't the first and only person down here to do that kinda thing on the regular.

[Not to say Sans isn't unhappy about that, 'cause he is. He's got a very firm sense of what's right and what's wrong to do when it comes to other people's business, it's just that most of the time he's too damned lazy to do a thing about it.]

[Well that sure is confusing enough to merit a response.]

People... pray to you? And you hear it? Like... telepathy?

[Like River?]

She voted for love.

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