024 + FOR ALL HAVE SINNED AND FALL SHORT OF THE GLORY OF GOD [video]

[trenchcoatedly]

[The video opens with a burst of static. After a second, it lowers itself to vaguely tolerable white noise. The video is still entirely static, though Castiel's voice can be heard above the drone - low and pained, emotional where he's usually expressionless.]

You don't exist. Angels don't have souls. You are just an effect of this place is having on me. The strength of the magic to affect an angel...

[A pause. The static and white noise clears. The video reveals... fingers. He may have turned it on by accident. He fidgers with it, and now you can see his face! Which looks haggard and awful, by the way. He turns away from the camera, staring at something unseen. Every few seconds, his whole surroundings shift, like he's teleporting every others step. He keeps looking over his shoulder, checking for his pursues. Eventually he steps and stares back at them with haunted eyes.]

What I did to you....I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I....I was so dumb, and foolish, and stupid, choking on my own ego... I deserve to die. I deserve oblivion. I know! But I keep... I keep coming back. He wants me for something, don't you understand? How can I be expected to do something if you're still here?

[The video drops into white noise and static again. Castiel's voice sounds like a ragged pant. Even though video's gone, his voice is clear.]

That isn't true. That isn't the case and you know it. You know it. Father can't be wrong. He gave the planet to them. He loved them and they loved Him. And what they did, they did for love of Him. And what I did, I did for love of Him! To find Him, and to save them.....

But...

You're wrong! I know you're wrong! I know it like I know He is there!

I know, I know....

[For a second, the video returns despite the loud static. Castiel looks focused, a cold kind of discipline in his eye. Then, the white noise becomes an unbearable whine before the transmission abruptly ends.]

[SPAM]

[Castiel looks a little drunk - spending half his time staggering around and the other half taking long, flying steps. Occasionally, he looks over his shoulder and shouts things in a mixture of language - English, Aramaic, Enochian, Italian. What feels like static electricity is radiating off him. He's pacing around the hotel, never staying in one spot for long. Whenever he does see another creature, though, he looks like a deer in headlights.]

((OOC: Castiel broke his communicator, so he won't be able to reply to any communications for a while. Spam away!))

Comments

[looksfine]

[Aya recognizes the angel's voice easily enough, though his words bring confusion.]

Castiel?

spam

[notafuckingnut]

[Richie knows there's something deeply Wrong with his warden. There wasn't before but there is now, and as the days pass Then doesn't seem so important as Now. Now and Then cross too much anyway, and it's like the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland. 999 ghosts but room for a thousand, a billion events all happening at the same time and he's stopped being able to tell which ones are true and which ones aren't. He's started seeing the women he's killed hiding in the rooms, flickers of tan and white and red all over and he tried to take the pills but they didn't help. They're still there.

All of them are. They're taken apart and it's not fun anymore.

And now his warden doesn't seem to be taking things well either. Although he's seen his friends. He can't blame him. They're kind of bitchy. It doesn't keep him from wandering after him when he sees him though. Maybe he'll be better this time.]

You're gonna zap the fucking lights if you keep that up.

Re: spam

[trenchcoatedly]

[Castiel turns on his heels and stares at Richie. His eyes are wide like dinner plates. He opens his mouth to stay something but then turns away, staring at his invisible ghosts.]

Be quiet!

[He hurls a bolt of bright light in that direction. The lights flicker but seem to have survived. The decorative tables, not so much. Then, he looks back over at Richie.]

Get out of here!

spam

[notafuckingnut]

[He flinches but stays where he is, as if unwilling to believe his warden could be acting irrationally. It's Castiel, his one constant is that he is rational, always. No matter what, no matter how odd everything else gets or how strange his actions or words might seem, he's always rational in the end. Reasonable.]

What the fuck, man? You didn't have to start breaking shit. Just tell 'em to go away, trying to hurt 'em isn't gonna help.

Re: spam

[trenchcoatedly]

They don't go away. They don't go away.

[He buries his hands into his hair and presses his palms into his eyes, trying to focus. His teeth are gritted. When he opens his eyes, there's no eyeballs, just light streaming from the sockets.]

You. You need to go. You need to go away from me. You - they - and......

[A pause. Castiel looks away from Richie, staring at his invisible ghosts. The room darkens noticeably and in the flickering light, silhouettes of massive wings are there. some of the feathers are bent at strange angles.]

Be quiet. You're wrong. You're wrong. You don't exist. You don't exist.

[He hurls another bolt of light. There go the paintings and a few side walls. He doesn't look back at Richie when he speaks.]

I will hurt you. I can't... they know better. They... I know what happens when I make my own decisions. I can't make anything right. They know. My choices wreck things. And they... I need to let them decide. Good angels take orders. I just want to be a good angel.

spam

[notafuckingnut]

[He takes a step back, and then another; okay, NOW he's worried. He doesn't like the way he looks, the way he sounds, the inhuman appearance and the wings and the almost deafening sense of wrong. His own mind twists the angel more, amplifies the special effects to turn him into more devil than angel, cruel and vicious and absolutely something to avoid even though he knows it's still Castiel.]

Bullshit. You're already good. You're a warden, aren't you? Just...they're not there. They're not real. You don't hafta listen.

[The next step to try to get out of his path is stumbling, hands fumbling around to find something to keep him upright as he moves back towards the wall. He can't find the door. He can't find the door and he's going to be stuck in here with this nightmare version of Castiel and this is just...so very bad.

He's scared. He'll admit that; it's like Halloween only a million times worse and there's nowhere he can go to escape it. Nobody he can call.]

Re: spam

[trenchcoatedly]

I'm not good. I'm not good enough. I was never good enough. Not for Dean, and not for my brothers, and not for my Father. That's why he left. He left because of me. Because I couldn't make things right for Him, no matter how much I tried. No matter how many chances He gave me...

[He stands up straight. The room settles, though it stays suspiciously dark.]

Well, at least you know how everyone feels now, Balthazar says, considering a painting.

You could do better by us by ridding the world of this half-broken meatbag, Raphael suggests offhandedly. You know he can't improve. You've tried and given up. You've seen what he's done. Kill him and be done with it.

[Castiel nods to someone unseen. He turns back to Richie, eyes still glowing, and stalks toward him, a dangerous intent written in the tightened lines of his face.]

[lesliemonster]

[Castiel, you have caught Leslie at a strange point in her drunkenness, where she is just super into this picture book of baby animals wearing hats that she found sitting out in the hallway.

She had been on her way to check out -- something? Something. But now she's giggling over baby monkeys in diapers.

Baby monkeys in diapers, Castiel.]

[trenchcoatedly]

[Castiel pauses between his hops and stares at her, like his eyes won't focus. By the way, his eyes are faintly glowing, like someone is holding a flashlight behind them. He turns over his shoulder and hisses something in an unintelligible language before staggering over to her.]

You're not - no ghosts?

[lesliemonster]

Ghosts?

[Cass, your face is super freaky right now, and if Leslie wasn't now on the tiny ducks section of the book, she might not even be able to deal with you.

But luckily, she is. And she holds the pages up for him to inspect.]

Diapers. How do they get such a tiny little diaper on a tiny little duck? It's all so tiny!

[Wait. He asked a non-baby animals question. Which is silly, but still.]

No ghosts, now. I talked to my dad earlier though! It was awesome.

[trenchcoatedly]

They're not.... they're not ghosts. I don't know if they're ghosts. I don't... I don't know anything.

[He presses the palms of his hands into his eyes. When he opens them again, they're not glowing anymore.]

This place is evil. We have to get out of here. That wasn't your father. Nothing here is real.

[lesliemonster]

Sure you do! [She pats him on the shoulder, encouragingly.] You know everything someone could need to know about running a green house on a spaceship.

[She continues with the book, as if she hasn't heard him.]

Baby monkeys in top hats.

[trenchcoatedly]

[He stares at her uncomprehendingly. Then, and only then, does he notice the book. There's a characteristic headtilt, trying to figure it out.]

Pretty sure you're still too dull to even read that book, you know. I don't even think it has words and you still can't read it. Now that's an impressive level of ineptitude. Like an angel that can't follow orders. Oh, wait a moment... Balthalzar rumbles in his ear.

This is what you're trying to save? This pathetic, keening wretch and this.... book. You could make something better for his planet. Get rid of it. Raphael adds.

[He grits his teeth and waves behind him, trying to shake their voices.]

I don't know anything. The things I could know if I was half of someone else...

[He stares at the book. The whole thing shakes with darkness.]

[Spam]

[canfindrope]

Hey. Are you okay? [Red holds out a hand, in a peaceful gesture. She sees someone in need - and it's her instinct to offer help.]

...If the hotel's getting to you, maybe someone can help.

Re: [Spam]

[trenchcoatedly]

[He stares at her for a few moments before taking the hand. He has a grip like a vise, obviously stronger than he appears. There's a faint feeling of static electricity humming in the air around him. He puts the hand on Red's shoulder to steady himself.]

Purgatory spawn, Raphael hisses. Kill this wretch. It's an abomination unto God.

[He loses his eyes and shakes his head, trying to shake off Rafael.]

No. I'm... I'm not okay. I need to be alone. I need to not be here. When...

The barge. Where is it?

[Spam]

[canfindrope]

I don't know. Why don't we go look for it? [She tries not to wince at the painful grip, or his weight. All she knows is that she needs to get him somewhere safe. Safe for who is secondary, for now.]

Re: [Spam]

[trenchcoatedly]

If it's not here, we won't be able to find it.

[He pulls himself away from her, staring down the hallway.]

[Kill it. It's an embarrassment.]

[He turns back to her. He looks sick and haggard, and he presses the palms of his hands into his eyes like he's trying to focus.]

You should go. I'm dangerous.

[Spam]

[canfindrope]

I don't believe that. [She watches him carefully, though.] You're a warden, aren't you? You won't hurt me.

Re: [Spam]

[trenchcoatedly]

I'm not...



[Castiel takes a step back from Red - he's probably strong enough to wrench himself from her grip - and digs the palms of his hands into his eyes trying to concentrate. he looks at her, his gaze despondent, then glances over his shoulder once and twice.

Yeah, you're a warden. A big, strong warden more capable than any other warden of making some poor helpless creature totally insane and down on itself. Good job, Cas, says Balthazar.

A posistion of power is the best one to wreck havoc. That's what you've always wanted, isn't it? Control. adds Raphael.

He flings a bright light behind him. It smashes into some furniture, breaking it.]

All I will do is hurt you. That's all I can do.

[fridgetothefire]

[She was supposed to stay in her room. There are worse things, Bruce said, and she knew he was right. Worse things than Omar, at least. But Wanda. She's not sure the hotel has anything worse to offer than her shrieks, than their father's words in her sister's voice. Worthless, pathetic, human weakling, just like your mother, you're nothing. She couldn't stay.

She holds her new makeshift nunchucks to her chest with neatly-stitched bloody arms, skittering through the hallways with spiky, nervous energy, hissing and muttering to herself on and off, roving in circles, only sometimes escaping Wanda's voice. But he said he'd come back, and she ends up back in the hallway she started in, bracing herself to go back inside, when Castiel rounds the corner. She flattens herself against the wall, and prays he'll just go past, just go by and leave her alone.]

[trenchcoatedly]

[The key being about Castiel is he is actually two beings: one soul and one grace. The hotel is only interested in one of these parts, and as a result he is, as they say, coming apart at the seams. (He will realize this later, when he is not actually in the process of coming apart at the seams.) In laymen's terms, it looks like someone has stuffed him with glowing lights, which are generally glowing out from his skin and eye socks. He still has a normal looking mouth, though, so that's good.]

[Noticeably, he seems to have fallen into that pattern of taking two or three steps forward and then following up with a short-distance teleportation "hop."]

[On the bad side, Castiel seems to notice her immediately and stares at her as she flattens herself against the wall. He tilts his head, like listening to someone who isn't there, and his voice reverberates with magic.]

What are you doing here.

[fridgetothefire]

[She's used to people who 'port and people who glow. She's also used to them hating her, and that doesn't get anymore comfortable, no matter how long she's dealt with it.]

Nothing, I'm just, I was going to my room. I'll get out of your way, I promise.

[trenchcoatedly]

No. All you're doing is ruining everything. You will not return.

[He reaches forward for her, with intent to toss her across the hallway. He has grip like a vice, and obviously much more strength than the body seems like it should have.]

[fridgetothefire]

[Ruined everything. And she had. She obliterated the secrecy of the mutant cause, transforming what could have been a clean coup into a hideous, global war. It hadn't been her main goal, just a side effect of the plan to kill her father. But she wasn't sorry. She knew they'd kill her for it. She's had a few more days than she expected to - had a good last meal, even made a friend. She's thought she was doomed half a dozen times, but she keeps not dying, and she feels reckless and wild and furious, enough stubborn triumph to push past the terror thumping in her chest. The stitches in her forearms tug and ache as she does smashes one of the broken chair legs against his knuckles. Maybe she'll get out of this again. If no - at least she'll die on her feet. Metaphorically speaking.]

You think getting rid of me will fix anything? Your plan was hideous to start with, and I'm glad it's wrecked. I hate all of you.

[trenchcoatedly]

[Castiel is woefully unaffected by chair leg smashing. In fact, all it appears to do is make him angrier, the light intensifying, glowing through his skin.]

You're just the start.

[He picks her up easily by the arm she used to hit him with the chair leg and hurls her into a nearby wall. From the effort, it looks like that wasn't difficult at all, either. And then, with another teleporty hop, he's above her again.]

I'll get rid of all of you.