EVENT #13: FEYWILDS - IC EVENT LOG

[abraxasmods]

Event #13 - Feywilds

OOC event plotting | feywilds setting | NPCs | bestiary

---

On June 10, a few days before the portals open, the Summoned will receive invitations delivered to their doors. The ink on the magic scroll reveals itself as you unroll the parchment.

◎ The scroll invites you to The Vermilion Court, to join the Fey during their Masquerade celebration and to meet the King and Queen. They've heard of the exploits of the Summoned, as well as your unique connection to the Singularity, and wish to host you as guests.

◎ An accompanying letter from your nation's officials assures you all details have been closely examined. Their advice is for you to accept the invitation, to prevent any political fallout, but suggest you bring a personal weapon or defensive spells - which the Fey will allow - and to take the provided portal stone that will let you portal immediately back home in an emergency.

◎ The letter also requests you to bring back information you can obtain or observe - anything at all. The Feywilds are unknown, and officials would be immensely grateful if you could help gather details. They stress that you should avoid offending or stealing from the Fey as that could be critically dangerous.

To prepare, local services in all factions such as tailors, seamstresses, jewelry makers, and similar, are instructed to provide a discount to ensure you arrive looking your best and at your finest. Even Solvunn will do away with their plainer styles to help you piece together more detailed clothes for the week.

Although very little is known about the Fey, one thing that precedes their reputation is their elaborate appearances.

The Vermilion Court

The Vermilion Court resulted from the union of the Seelie Court and the Unseelie Court after the Fey emerged from hiding. The palace and most of the Fey reside in the City of the Vermilion Court. It's here you'll be staying while you're a guest of the Fey.

The Fey's isolation means their home isn't designed for outsiders. Doorways are low. Be sure to duck if you're taller than 5'6", or you'll smack yourself stepping inside. Ceilings, while also low, will allow someone of average human height to stand straight, though if you're much taller than 6'0", you'll need to be careful not to bump your head against any hanging lights.

As for furniture, fortunately, the Fey prefer to use stumps, rocks, and the ground itself as seating, so chances are you won't have to squeeze into any too-small chairs or embarrass yourself when you break their stool. Just pick a boulder and sit! Beds, however, are on the smaller side.

Making an impression with the Fey is key! Doing so will grant you some IC rewards that'll help your character with their Masquerade outfit, plus contribute to how receptive the Fey will be towards the Summoned in the future.

Further, characters will have a chance to meet two NPCs after the welcoming ceremony.

Welcoming

As the very first guests of the Vermilion Court in history, your welcome will contain a bit of fanfare. Admittedly, things do seem very structured and flashy, as though the Fey are demonstrating only what they want you to see. Nonetheless, there are no signs of maliciousness afoot. Rather, the Fey don't want to reveal all their secrets yet.

Royal Procession

You'll gather in the courtyard of the Vermilion Palace. Here, the same floating lights seen last month will announce the arrival of King Jaqod and Queen Rekhantra - current rulers of the Vermilion Court. Fey archers stand on opposing sides to create a pathway, then draw back their intricately carved bows - demonstrating incredible accuracy as arrows strike each other mid-air to form blooming fireworks that fill the sky.

Behind the archers are the disciples of Faerie, the faith followed by the Vermilion Court and upheld by the High Priestesses. Dressed in ceremonial garb, their illusory wings glow and shimmer as they perform an enchanting whirling dance. Each one carries an orb of light in their palms. The orbs resemble the full moon and are used as a prop to create shapes and designs through the air as they move.

At last, the King and Queen will arrive to welcome their guests. They assure you they're delighted that you've accepted their invitation and promise a week full of wonders - culminating in the Masquerade.

At the end of the procession, you'll have the opportunity to greet one of the following NPCs:

• The High Priestess Lady Cospraila, who is devoted to the Faerie ways
• Mestr Lord Kythros, who has a thorough knowledge of the Vermilion Court tracing back several kings

To have a short interaction, reply here to the NPC you wish to meet.

The Fey aren't aware of, and thus don't recognize, any influence characters might have throughout Abraxas or their respective nations - so there is no rank requirement.

The Cascading Boughs

Once the ceremony concludes, Fey guides will lead you to The Cascading Boughs, so named for the waterfalls that spill over its branches. High above the ground, The Boughs is one of the few locations where the sunlight is more substantial.

◎ Room Assignment

The Fey do love a good trick. Before you enter, the only thing they'll tell you is that the rooms will choose you. What does that mean? Step through and find out as the whirling portal door spits you out into a random room. Your roommate will follow through with no choice of their own.

You can somewhat fool the door in return by stepping through together initially, forcing it to assign you and your companion to a room together. Otherwise, you'll have to get along with whomever The Boughs has chosen to room with you. Switching is not possible - there's only one entrance into the lodgings wing, so what you get is where you're staying.

◎ Amenities

Luckily, The Boughs have plenty of communal spaces to spend time together: lush gardens, beautiful ponds, and an array of food and drink for guests to enjoy every hour of the day.

Need to freshen up? The baths offer warm waters which give your hair a temporary luxurious shimmer while your skin takes on a healthy, sparkling glow.

For a meditative space, you can visit The Listening Tree. Said to hear your deepest thoughts and feelings, The Listening Tree seems to be constantly humming in a low tone. The sound is soothing and almost mournful, like the call of a great whale. Speak to it if you wish, out loud or in your mind. Though it does not answer in words, you sense that it understands in its own unique way. When you leave, you'll feel surprisingly refreshed and calm, a feeling that will leave you in a gently pleasant mood for the rest of the day.

Exploring

The Feywilds is vast, but much of it contains dense woods, twisting vines, and towering mushroom caps. Lakes, ponds, and rivers run through the territory, while jagged mountains stand tall in the east.

Only within the City of the Vermilion Court will you discover more to explore: shops, taverns, and eateries populate the largest town in the Feywilds. Compared to other Abraxan cities, though, it's notably smaller - closer to a village than a city. Shops don't have prices displayed anywhere. Some citizens seemingly receive goods for free. Others receive them in exchange for an agreed-upon favor you can't understand. Theirs is an isolated society, firmly entrenched in ways that are much different than the outside world where, despite established borders, intermingling between cultures often occurs.

Nonetheless, the Fey are welcoming and curious. Some are hesitant, including the children, while others want to know who you are. Though mischievous, the Fey don't intend any harm. They'll be pleased to show you the sights: glittering lakes, beautiful gardens, many strange oversized creatures with an unusual amount of teeth, and The Duskwoods.

Shopping & Currency

Unlike the rest of Abraxas, the Fey don't accept gold or silver. Instead, they've declared that there's a unique currency you must use to make purchases. Not all of the Fey seem to participate in this type of currency. You have to wonder if they're playing a trick, but if you want to buy something, you'll have to do as you're told. To the Fey's credit, they're happy to make a fair exchange in return.

Currency options are:

◎ Candied honey pellets from the hives of a giant bee creature. They can be smoked out or put to sleep, but have a vicious sting that will itch fiercely for 12 hours.

◎ Sparkling pearls, easily obtained where they wash up on the shores of lakes and ponds, but cause you to forget one memory while they're in your possession. You must spend (or discard) all pearls to regain the memory. The memory is typically minor like forgetting your favorite food or that time you fell down the stairs, but some may find themselves forgetting a major event or even their own name.

◎ Something only the character can give. This can be anything, but characters should give genuine thought when making an offer. It could be a lock of hair, a feather from a pet, a kiss, or a valuable possession. They might have to try a few offers before one is accepted.

Each shop will want a particular currency from the list above. It might change from shop to shop, or even from hour to hour within the same shop - so act quickly! If you're having trouble getting the currency by yourself, you can grab a friend to help you with the task. Try to strike a bargain if you want. You could get them to lower the price or change to a type more suited to your skills.

As for the shops, there are boutiques with unique stained glass ornamentation for masks and attire that offer special glamours such as fine sparkling dust or a glowing aura. You can obtain last-minute additions to masquerade outfits with various shimmering enchantments. Small trinket-like weapons can be purchased, such as a pretty glass knife. You can also get larger prop-style weapons meant to accompany a costume. However, genuine weapons are off-limits. No matter what currency you arrive with, shopkeepers insist your money is no good here.

The Duskwoods

The Duskwoods refer to the deepest parts of the surrounding overgrown woods. A thick canopy of trees shadows much of the forest in a perpetual dusk-like state, lending to its name - though sunlight does stream through rare spots between the leaves. At once beautiful and foreboding, the Duskwoods encompass the aura of the Fey: mysterious, full of hidden secrets and dangers, and yet wonderfully rewarding for those who respect it and its inhabitants.

Here, you'll find berries and mushrooms, large insects to collect, and creatures to hunt. Nothing in the woods is off-limits. Hunting is a favorite pastime of the Fey, especially their foot soldiers, and you're invited to participate. Just be sure you know the way. The Fey won't be there to guide you, so you're on your own if you get lost in the tangled maze-like forest. Heavy mists and darkened trees can trick you into going dangerously off-path if you aren't careful.

Though the Fey prefer to hunt by bow and arrow or with a spear, you can take your personal weapon into the woods. Note that firearms will be frowned upon and are likely to get you removed from the area due to the excessive noise. The Fey won't tolerate anything that disturbs the natural state of their home.

For a list of wildlife found in the Duskwoods, see the Bestiary.

One or two personal weapons are allowed in the Feywilds, but don't overdo it and show up with an arsenal. Flora and wildlife should not be removed from the area.

Making an Impression

Unused to outsiders and isolated for centuries, the Fey are watching you closely to determine whether they wish to pursue continued contact. Some preferences can't be helped - they're wary of anyone large in stature, as most have never encountered individuals much taller or larger than they are, but the Fey are drawn to animal-like traits such as wings, horns, or sharp teeth. Other aspects, however, are in your hands, and you'll be able to show off a bit.

You won't be told upfront, so it's up to you to observe what's around you and use social instincts you possess to impress - if that's your goal. On occasion, if a Fey happens to see something they like from you, they'll give you a useful item.

To earn an item, submit a thread of your character performing the tasks below for approval. Threads can be in pairs or groups of any size. Threads do not need to be completed, but should contain a couple of tags from you before submission.

Once approved, we'll RNG from 1 of 3 items for each favor a character earns and provide you with the result. You can use the items to enhance your character's disguise for the upcoming Masquerade. All 3 items can be earned if you submit 3 example threads.

• A transformation potion that will grant and/or remove up to 2 appendages of your choice, such as horns, tails, or wings. For example, you could remove your horns and add wings, add a tail and hooves, or so forth.


• A perfume that hides your scent with delicate floral notes and provides you with a light charm that enhances your ability in one aspect you aren't normally good at. For example: words, confidence, musical talent, mimicking accents, or dancing.


• A powerful dye that will turn one feature of your choosing a different color. The dyes are only available in rainbow pastels or bright shades such as pinks, greens, purples, or metallics like gold and silver. They can be applied to your skin (become pink or blue!), hair, or eyes.

Tasks

The Fey can be difficult to win over, but they have a range of interests and love a good show! You'll have several chances and methods to make a good impression, even if you may stumble in other areas.

◎ Hunting Skill

Hunting is a vital aspect of life. Their hunters prefer bows and arrows, but they'll be pleased to see a skilled demonstration of hunting using any method, including magic. The Gargantuan Viper Hydra is tough to fight one-on-one. Attempting to kill one alone will surely draw the attention of onlookers. Meanwhile, the Daggermaw Slug nests in dangerous areas in the Duskwoods full of poisonous flora and toxic spores. Successfully retrieving a handful of these toothy (and tasty!) critters will prove your competence in navigating the most treacherous of environments.

◎ Physical Uniqueness

You might notice the tamed creatures around the city have decorative jewelry or painted designs on their horns or tails. If you possess horns, claws, tails, or wings, you can impress the Fey by enhancing these elements on yourself with similar delicate gold chains or paint. If you have bright, colorful hair, you can achieve a similar effect by styling it in special ways, for example by adding flowers or beads.

◎ Mount Handling

The Fey have a few peculiar mounts they use. They'll be happy to teach you how to handle one or even all of them - and the quicker you learn, the more they'll acknowledge your talent. Mounts include:

• The Pearl-Eyed Leaper, an oversized lizard ideal for moving through dense treetops. It leaps from branch to branch at great heights, so handling the Leaper requires a solid grip and a steely stomach. Additionally, the Leaper can sense nervousness and will slap you with its sticky tongue if your approach lacks confidence.


• The Luminous Greatshell, a massive snail that travels quickly over flat ground and across lakes, leaving behind a slick shimmer. Its intense speed makes handling difficult. Greatshell races through the winding Misty Rivers are an excellent chance to prove yourself. Just be careful to navigate obstacles, or the snail will stop abruptly and send you flying off.


• The Grinning Longhorn is the most challenging to mount. You must be swift and agile getting on, or else it may kick, gore, or bite from impatience. Wooden replicas are available for practice, but if you're bold, you can greatly impress the Fey by forgoing any practice. Once mounted, the Longhorn is the most versatile and easiest to direct, following your wishes through an unexplained intuition. They can traverse steep, near-vertical surfaces.

◎ Magical Demonstration

The Fey love flashy magic. Show off your spells all you want, deliberately or as a part of your daily life. Conjure items, use magic as a tool to accomplish a task such as hunting or combat, or put on a fun show to entertain the Fey children. The more flash and color you include, the more the Fey will enjoy it.

◎ Consuming Food & Drink

Some dishes in the Feywilds are familiar, but others can be more unusual. The insect-like Daggermaw Slug is a delicacy, for instance, roasted over a fire or poached in citrus-scented leaves. Large bugs can feature in many meals served, while the liquor is exceptionally potent. If you clean your plates or drain your cups, the Fey will be pleased.

◎ Conversational Storytelling

As a close-knit community, the Fey love to chatter and love even more someone who can spin an entertaining yarn. These tales are conversational - anecdotes that arise naturally when having a drink or a meal. They're less interested in stories that feel rehearsed or stiff. If you like to be at the center of attention at a party and know how to embellish, you can win over some of the Fey listening.

The Masquerade

The Masquerade takes place on the final night. By now, you're expected to have your costumes and masks prepared. Spend the afternoon adding any last touches before the big event. Carriages arrive once the sun goes down, and they won't wait long for any stragglers.

This part of the event involves two aspects: a guessing game to try and identify your dance partners and the opportunity to meet one of several mysterious NPCs whose identity you won't know.

There's also a maze to enjoy for guests who want a break from dancing. The food and wine might be a bit strange, though not necessarily unpleasant.

Preparation

It's not taboo to be seen by a select few! You're welcome to choose a close friend or two who can help you get ready for the night. The expectation is that you won't be participating in the guessing game amongst each other.

If you're particularly secretive, private enchanted dressing rooms will be provided to truly obscure your identity.

Outfits & Glamours

In the days leading up to the Masquerade, you'll see shops with masks, outfits, and accessories. Examine what's popular among the Fey to build your look to fit!

The Fey prefer avant-garde fashion, elaborate hairstyles, and intricate accessories. Where a simple ball elsewhere might involve a flowing dress and a tiara, the Fey attending the masquerades will adorn themselves with detailed headpieces, overly stylized hair, and thematic costumes.

Seelie magic has an equally important role. Illusions are used for more than changing one's hair or eye color. The Fey will cast transformative effects that alter the shape and look of their very physical forms. They might add additional limbs, give themselves tails or horns, or elongate their already spindly bodies into something insect-like.

Don't be afraid to get weird. While beauty is an aspect, the Masquerade is also about transformation. Characters are welcome to play it safe if that's what they prefer, but those who break the mold will best catch the eyes of the Vermilion Court.

Masquerade Night

Outside the Cascading Boughs, golden carriages await at sunset. Climb on in. The ride is less than an hour long, and you'll have the opportunity to meet your mysterious companions on the way to the Vermilion Palace. Small refreshments of berries and sparkling wine are available inside the carriage.

Upon entering each carriage, you'll be handed three butterfly pins, to be pinned on guests whose identities you uncover during the masquerade's guessing game.

The Vermilion Palace

As the carriages draw near, the whimsical spires of the Vermilion Palace tower over you. Some stand tall and sturdy; others twist like tree branches, adorned with windows or small balconies throughout. The palace shimmers a faint silver in the moonlight. A light reddish mist hangs low on the grounds, giving the palace its name. The mist is cool and refreshing to walk through, and leaves no stains or traces on clothing.

The stairs leading up to the main entrance appear carved from geodes. At the top, two-story tall doors inlaid with the same silvery filigree give the palace its shine. As you walk through the doors, the red mist surrounds you for a split second. Then you're instantly deposited into the main ballroom.

A disembodied voice announces you based on your chosen pseudonym or title and your appearance rather than your true name. Though you're positive you just walked into the palace, you can't tell whether you're inside or outside. The domed glass ceiling floats above the dance floor. The walls appear to be halved or missing entirely, leading to a sprawling landscape of forests and gardens. Don't stare at the ceiling for too long - you might give yourself vertigo or a falling sensation.

The Ballroom

The ballroom consists of the main dance floor. It's flanked by several seating areas with tall tables and chairs, each with a different flower motif tying them together. The lighting is gentle as the moon's glow filters through the ceiling, broken into a colorful prismatic effect. A masked orchestra plays on a rotating stage throughout the evening, playing the most popular songs in the Feywilds. As one piece flows into the next, the colors of light shift with the changes in key, pulling excited cheers from the Fey guests in attendance.

Attendants carry bottles of Full Moon Wine. The Fey never turn down a refill, and there is an expectant air that the Summoned should also accept. Strangely, the wine's taste changes after each glass. The flavor seems to be entirely dependent upon the recipient and varies from a sweet soda pop-like mixture to bubble gum left for several weeks under a table. But it would be rude to make a face if it's not to your liking, wouldn't it?

Food is much more familiar. Hors d'oeuvres make their way around on platters, and full meals are available upon request. Unlike typical hors d'oeuvres, which are small dishes meant to be eaten in a bite or two, the Fey's version is notably large. Further, no matter what you partake in, the item appears ever so slightly ... off. A deviled egg with a blue yolk, a cracker that is delicious but weirdly mushy when you bite into it, a vegetable skewer that tastes like a sweet dessert instead of savory. Like the wine, the Fey watch expectantly to make sure their guests are enjoying the cuisine.

Rose Garden Maze

Want to do more than dance? Stepping outside into the greenery will send you into a rose garden maze. Filled with the same red mist, the rose garden maze is as beautiful as it's disorienting. No dangers lurk to hinder you, though giant butterflies flutter and overgrown lizards scale the hedge walls. Their sticky tongues might steal a piece of your outfit or any food you're holding, so be careful!

Finding your way out is a bit tricky, but not overly difficult. Small orbs of light will guide you from point to point if you're feeling especially lost. The Fey like a bit of mischief, but they don't want anyone to be miserable at their grand party. You might even run into some of your mysterious companions. Maybe you can finish the maze together? Be sure to keep up your hidden identities while you do!

Completing the maze will lead you back to the ballroom as if you had never left, and you'll have the bonus of smelling like a bunch of fresh roses.

Guessing Game

Socializing with other guests is a game from the start. Fully masked and disguised, you never know just who you are talking to.

Remember those butterfly pins given to you in the carriage? Hold onto them since getting rid of all 3 is the goal! Talk to your mysterious companions, ask them questions, and deflect their suspicions yourself. Any guest you can "pin down" receives a butterfly pin from you placed on their costume.

Although concealing your identity is important, the masquerade is equally about having fun. Provide a few bizarre clues or lean into your costume (maybe you'll only communicate in a single word or a howl!) if you want to help your partner slowly figure out who you are...if they can!

Of course, if you're not very good at it, that's alright, too. It might just be obvious you're you in a mask, and you'll end the night with many pins in you. The point is to enjoy yourself. As long as you're having a grand time of it alongside the Fey and you're giving it your best efforts, your hosts will approve.

Getting rid of all 3 pins will earn your character a glowing orb activated by moonlight. During clear nights when the moon is bright, set it on a windowsill to watch a beautiful scattering of lights cast over the walls and ceiling.

Mysterious Meetings (NPCs)

During the night, you might find yourself with a dance partner or a companion who isn't one of the invited Summoned. Who are they? Well, that remains to be seen. You probably won't find out right there, though you can make your guesses. Maybe you'll get it right!

To receive a brief interaction with a mysterious NPC, fill out the form here and reply with a link to your character's top level in the event.

Only one character per player can sign up. Dances are short, so there won't be a lot of time to chat. Give your questions or responses some thought!

---

Comments

[righteously]

( We've already lost too much this month. It's true. Sam and Jack are the shining examples, but Dean feels like he's lost more than just people in these last few weeks.

And that's the thing, ain't it? That's the thing.

He shoves right back up off the bed again, pacing a foot or two toward her in tandem with the swelling tide of emphatic energy in his chest. Restless, stoked, surging uncomfortably. )

No. I'm not. And that's- that's the whole- that's what I'm trying to-

( Damn it. Why is it so hard to articulate what he's feeling? He shoots a glance backward at Cas, as though the angel will somehow be able to divine it — when he hasn't managed to at all, yet.

Wipe the slate. Try again. Start a sentence.

He scrubs a hand over his face and resets. )

We've lost Sam, we've lost Jack. But that's not it for me, that's not the only thing that's gone out the window. My dignity, my reputation, the trust people had in me, the trust I had in myself. There's a great chance I've screwed up just about every friendship I've managed to scrape together here like that- ( He snaps his fingers. ) Gone. I've managed to screw up or lose-- almost everything I have. So if I lose either one of you two because I can't navigate- whatever's going on here, I'm gonna take a long walk off a tall cliff. Honest to god. I mean it. I'd rather eat a bullet.

Look-

( The snowball's rolling down hill, gaining momentum. Once you crack him open, it's a bleeding wound. It's a river that flows out until it runs dry.

He rounds on Jo again, leveling her with a raw look, wide open, vulnerable — blunt. If there was ever a time to just come out with it... )

I love you.

( Unsaid: and you know it, you've known it, we've both known.

The caveat?

He turns that same look on Cas, riddled underneath with apology and confession. )

And- god damn it, Cas, I barely know how to process it myself but I-

( This one is harder. He steels himself anyway, finds his resolve, and scrapes this one out too: )

I love you. I do. I was trying to tell you earlier, out there, but-

( He breaks eye contact to shake his head. To sweep a helpless gesture out absently. )

I barely managed one relationship for a year, and the way that ended-- ( The sentence runs hoarse, falters, dies midway through. The memory of losing Lisa and Ben is a wound that never fully healed right; a break that still aches when it rains. Change course again, get back on topic. ) I don't know how to do this. I don't know how- how to have people, how to have a person without snapping it in half, and I can't do that with either of you. I don't have it in me. I don't. So if either of you can tell me what the right move is here, the right words to say, the right- way to handle it, just tell me what that is, and I'll do it. I swear.

[unwings]

[ jo may have seen i love you coming, but castiel was certain, would have bet his life on it, that dean didn't share his feelings. that he couldn't, that they were just too different, their relationship was too far past that point, too complicated, too important to too many other variables — they simply weren't configured for it.

the other two can watch the entire, unmasked sequence going on, cas stiffing up, angel-deer in the headlights, glancing over his shoulder, looking between the two of them, and finally, finally, landing solidly, softly, speechlessly on dean. he barely stops himself from asking "are you sure"? the moment hangs like the sound of shattered glass through an elegant dining hall. he rises, carefully crossing the room, like going barefoot over coals or a bed of nails.

i was trying to tell you earlier, out there, but—, he flashes back to the dancefloor, how convinced he'd been that dean was doing his best to tiptoe around his friend's feelings. doing that thing dean does where he'd rather rake himself through the mud than allow a friend to feel uncared for in any way. ]

But I'm an idiot.

[ their language is composed of action more than words. it's a hand gripped tight on a shoulder before 'i've got your back', it's a palm gently cradling a cheek over 'i was so scared you wouldn't be okay'. it's castiel's fingers pressing in over the ridges of dean's spine at the back of his neck, thumbs over his jaw, the brush of eternal five o'clock shadow, and the press of heated, love-starved, desperate lips to his in place of 'i love you, i have always loved you, there will never be a day in time immemorial that i don't love you'.

he doesn't know how else to say it so thorough a way, or in a manner they both understand so plainly and innately, without question or shadow of doubt. it lingers a long handful of seconds, not deepening, but soaking up the sensation of it, inhaling dean and feeling the atoms between them buzz and hum in harmony. eventually, cas mutters against dean's lips, locking to his eyes like they moor him to the only safe port in miles. ]

I'm very difficult to bisect.

[ it's perhaps been too long since the initial concern of snapping people in half, but he's just trying to be reassuring here. it takes a second or two longer before cas remembers himself, and he blinks rapidly, then steps back, clearing his throat, and makes some semblance of an attempt at propriety. ]

If Jo is willing, I don't see why...sharing can't be a reasonable compromise. [ he casts a glace to Jo, somewhat sheepish, still deeply unsure after their last interaction, but hoping their kiss was something more than simply finding solace in whoever was available. ] It seems popular among the Summoned.

[tobeclosetohim]

[ Jo knows. Of course, she knows. She's known without the shadow of a doubt since she saw the look on his face when he kissed her goodbye in the hardware store—but hearing it? Out loud? Very suddenly? Without warning?

It's like being shot.

No armor, no defense,
just straight through her.

A sharp breath in her nose.

It's not too unlike that feeling of trying to keep her organs in her body without the ability to close her stomach back up, not even with the duct tape. She's still trying to hold it in the slightest when he's turning to Cas, and he's saying the same damn thing, and Cas is standing there, gobsmacked. Like he's been punched. Shot. Like he can't breathe or process. And she knew that, too.

Jo hadn't needed the dancing earlier to cement it.

Cas' words aren't even vaguely as important as the fact Cas is suddenly crossing the room, and he's kissing Dean. He's kissing Dean. He's. Kissing. Dean. And Jo, for the life of her, doesn't know if she's supposed to look away, but it seems like the least applicable thing she can get her eyes, her face, or her body to do when Cas' hand is so soft on Dean's jaw and something in her is going a little haywire. Fragile, tenusous, proud. Tight and warm, shock. Uncertainty.

And something so much else.
Something that makes her swallow.
And sit back on her heels a little.
Like feeling it burns.

It's ... hot.

But it's more than that, too.
It's so much more than that, too.

Like watching something right slot into place.

It's all traction until Cas' voice barely registers. What Jo thinks out of the left field, that is trying not for an edge of hysterical—even as Jo gives a light snort at Cas' entirely too literal response—is that's a promise she can't make. The one and only promise there's no way for her to try to make. She can't promise not to be lost eventually. There's something there. Somewhere in the ruin of her brain, Cas' drowned voices saying something about weight and relief, but it's not quite words now.

When Cas is looking at her, tenuously, uncertain, hopeful. ]

Yeah. [ Her voice has a problem with it, but she rolls through that because she's not about to flounder on it, or the feelings still sloshing madly everywhere inside the scrabble of her ribs, in the tension in her belly. ] I think we should at least try.

[righteously]

( Dean Winchester is a stupid man. Everyone knows this. Literally everybody.

So stupid is he, somehow, despite the entire topic of conversation, despite the confession, despite the entire attempt to talk about this in the ballroom earlier, he has not for one single moment considered the concept that him and Cas might actually kiss tonight. His stupid meathead brain hadn't seen fit to supply him with the anticipation for anything beyond an awkward attempt at talking through things, maybe some tentative understanding where they wind up on the same page, and only then would he begin to consider what that next step after words might look like.

Kissing was some vague, nebulous future-him concept that now-him hadn't caught up to yet.

And then it's happening.

Fingertips against the back of his neck. A thumb at his jaw. Blue eyes closing the distance between them very abruptly. And then-

Brain blank. Lips on his, warm and soft, and the wet-electric shock of it unfurling hot and staggering in his chest, in his belly. He's still, frozen in place, for two or three long seconds. At some point, one of his fists finds a spare scrap of fabric Cas is wearing to tangle in tightly.

He's still stunned when Cas steps away, his fingers untangling, hand falling limply and uselessly to his side. Green eyes still gone wide, lips still parted, uncomprehending.

Cas says something. Jo agrees with it.
His brain stutters, stumbles, scrambles to replay it. )

What?

( Did not compute. No comprende.

I don't see why...sharing can't be a reasonable compromise.
Yeah.

His brain comprehends it the third time the track repeats. )

Oh. ( A beat. ) Wait- what? You're both-

( Another beat. )

I-

( Pause. )

Did you seriously just whip out a por que no los dos? Why are you both on board with that so fast? You're both being suspiciously cool about this entire thing.

[unwings]

[ the whole room seems to teeter on the edge of a precipice, and cas is still half convinced he's courting disaster in finally reaching out and taking what he wants. the spark of difference in jo's eyes when she watches them, an unnamed something beneath the confusion and uncertainty. the bit of problem in her voice when she answers. and then dean, when cas remembers there's about a month worth of intimate (perhaps too intimate) conversations and softly shared fears passed between him and jo that he was absent for.

they'd been on even footing for all of two seconds, before the ground split and separated them again. now, castiel's eyes dart between the two, feeling too bare and unprotected without the trenchcoat or layers of self-denial and stoic refusal to allow himself any form of fulfillment. ]

We, um.

[ words haven't been put to this yet, nothing paving it into reality outside that dream moment of the horizon. beyond the unspoken awkwardness of the earlier conversation with jo, about the baths, they'd barely allowed light to be shed on it. he's entirely unsure she even wants it to regarded as reality, but trust him to barrel through these fragile things anyway.

cas chronically misreads the appropriate time to put voice to sensitive topics, and we may as well have kenny loggins (or archer) wailing d-d-danger zone through the tiny fairy hotel room for as secure as the angel's feeling about announcing this. ]

It was, um, well. An emotional moment, and we were both fairly certain I would be dead soon—

[ oh, right, yeah, that's another part of it they hadn't filled dean in on yet either. this is just a minefield of things he has a sneaking suspicion he shouldn't be saying, but his patience for mincing words is so terribly short. his eyes shoot to Jo, both screaming help and sorry simultaneously, just before he huffs and gives up on trying to be delicate, the words coming out in frustrated rush. ]

We spoke at length about our mutual feelings for you and shared a moment of intimacy while you were evil. [ a beat, dread hits his shoulders heavy, but he's here now, so just commit. ] It was brief and Jo may regret it. So it... perhaps... may not be the most ideal of solutions.

[ castiel is also a stupid man. ]

[tobeclosetohim]

Could you make that sound any more like we slept together?

[ Yeah. There's a sharp, defensive edge to that reaction because it comes out of nowhere, and it's the thing she's had far less time to think about than the rest of this—which doesn't mean she hasn't, she has, a lot, but it's right in the middle of this whole emotional clusterfuck. But sort of to one side, because of. Well. Nearly dying. Catching the demon. What happened the next morning with Dean. Everything.

(Not that 'making out while naked' is going to sound less like it either.)

It's not that she's not somewhere, somehow aware it would have to come out. She spent a fuck ton of time listening to Jesper talk about his five billion (okay, six-plus ongoing) relationships, across different factions even, without really getting super clear on the events of why she wanted to know. And a lot of that was about getting un-fucking-comfortably honest.

Which is, apparently, where they're at. ]

I never said I regretted it.

[ It would feel a lot less fucking complicated if she had. Shame, self-recrimination, annoyance, and regret were a hell of a lot easier to drink off the goddamn table of her thoughts. It wasn't even like anyone else was left around in the house to weigh in for either their sakes to back during the days leading up to Cas going unconscious, or the ones after it, when he was, while Jo hovered back and forth to that room. ]

[righteously]

( So, this is taking a hard left turn. On the positive side, he's veering very rapidly from guilt-riddled sorrow to pure, unadulterated disbelief. It's... kind of a nice reprieve?

Absolutely none of this is going how he expected it to go, and that bemusement's plastered quite visibly over the planes and lines of his expression. )

You what?

( Shared a moment of intimacy?? As in-

His mind very, very unhelpfully begins to supply the first sketched outlines of what's shaping up to be an incredibly vivid picture just as Jo cuts in to scrub that cartoon thought-bubble away. Probably for the best, that mental image would've done absolutely nothing to help his brain, which frankly requires all of the undiverted bloodflow it can get right now. )

You- ( A vague gesture at Cas, followed by one at Jo: ) And you... You two, uh- I'm sorry, what exactly does shared a moment of intimacy mean, in, like- human?

( If not having sex, because it sounds like sex. )

[unwings]

Do you regret it?

[ point blank, no sass or expectation, just the genuine question and surprisingly intense need for a definitive answer. in cas's mind, that's the natural follow up, and 'presently' is the adequate time to make the query, before further confusion occurs. he knew the ache in his chest for dean for so long, longer than he had a name for it, and perhaps he shouldn't be so shocked to find a similar anxiety and need to know jo's heart nestled right in next to it.

then dean, and this clusterfuck of emotions and confusion and romantic entanglements is a fucking whiplash, because nice boost of super telling pheromones you've got over there, friend, please stall your mind theatre, it's distracting. cas knew intrapersonal relationships were tricky, but this is another level already.

both humans in the vicinity receive the long-suffering sigh and thin lipped blink towards the heavens. he will do this the best way he knows how: like being gently slapped with a wet thesaurus. ]

We were bathing in a hot spring in my domain while discussing the universally intrinsic nature of love despite mortality, and it became an embracing, impulsive, emotionally charged kiss. Or several.

[ it's a little unclear, he was dying at the time, just trying to be accurate. ]

[tobeclosetohim]

Okay, look. [ Jo's half-bewildered, half-withering look at Cas of 'omg what are the words coming out of your mouth at this moment?????' turns back to Dean with a raise of a hand. ]

You were evil, he was on one of the last not-as-terrible nights before he actually went unconscious, and at the end of his just realized he had feelings spiral, and there was talk about working saving you still and everyone being in love with you— [ This with a look of sharp eyebrows, that begs Dean to be smart enough for twelve seconds to not take that as some arrogant compliment at the second. ] —and their fears or what have you because of the fucked up crazy of this place, time, the inability to get out of here, or what happens if we do, and things...

Happened.

And no. [ Jo looks back to Cas, and there's a sigh out of her nose. Because she can't ignore that he asked first. ] I don't think I do. [ Look. She knows. She gets it. That isn't even helpfully phrased, but she doesn't think she fucking has a more honest answer for it yet. Except. That's not entirely the truth, is it. Because it's not that simple.

And it's not because it was just kissing Cas, is it?
Even the kissing was because of what—

It's an odd shift of her shoulders, and she finally walks a little closer than half the room she's been apart from them, which feels, honestly, weird with them both in that one spot. ] Some of the things you said. You know. Before it. I don't often ... feel like people see me as clearly as that.

[ Jo knows she puts a fuck ton of energy into the constant state, both willed and two-decades now-unconsciousness habit, of making it look like she absolutely doesn't give much of a fuck about that. What people think of her choices. Whether they understand her, so long as they don't get in her way or tell her who and what she can't be. Refuses to be cowed or shouted over or incapable of handling everything she has to.

But sometimes. Sometimes she just fucking needs someone to see her. Underneath all of it. Too. ]

[righteously]

( So, the mental image he hadn't yet started fleshing out didn't include bathing in a hot spring. This is, perhaps, the first time reality has out-porn'ed Dean's imagination. Another rush of conflicting feelings runs through him, a Frankenstein conglomeration of jealousy and attraction, frustrated possessiveness, affront, desire, approval, uncertainty. The concept of the two of them, of Jo and Cas, being together outside of this strange triangle hadn't occurred to him, but now that it has...

It makes sense. They deserve each other far more than he deserves either of them. They'd look good together. They'd be good for each other. They'd guard each other's hearts fiercely.

Does he even have the right to fit himself into this equation?

Everyone being in love with you — his face screws up into something incredulous. Are you kidding? What the hell show has she been watching? Nobody should be in love with him, he's gross. He's bad. Damaged goods. The concept is down-right absurd.

And yet. Here they are. Having this conversation. Actual reality does not align with what Dean thinks reality should be.

I don't often ... feel like people see me as clearly as that.

He wants to protest. Wants to feel indignant, stake the assertion I see you. I see both of you. Who they are. Their inherent value — or rather, the fact that they're invaluable. That's what scares him about this. How priceless they both are, and how undeserving he is, and how afraid he is to lose whatever luck brought them to him and made them want him despite everything.

But he can't find the words, and Jo is talking to Cas, so while his lips part, the sound dies in his throat. He says nothing — not aloud, though his expression probably speaks volumes about fear and vulnerability. It broadcasts a question, a curiosity.

Now what? )

[unwings]

[ after the last several weeks, it's painfully apparent to cas how rare a thing it is for jo to be so exposed, to speak about herself so openly. his hand drifts to find her when she crosses to them, unwilling to let her be a solitary island with the emotion of the moment leaving them all with unsteady footing. Hearing her, knowing he was able to help her feel recognized for herself, Cas doesn't fight the relieved smile he beams. Their conversation earlier in the week had been so tense and uncertain - everything until a minute or so ago, had been so tense and uncertain. He simply wasn't prepared to feel this much weight and grief shed from him so quickly, and the joy of it is uncontainable, bounding of him like he needs to pull the others in to experience it, or share it, or just off-load it. ]

You found me breaking down in so many ways, Jo. And you stayed with me through every eroding stage of it. [ his grief losing Dean, the slow and degrading sickness that dragged him on towards death, and the fallout from each new encounter with the demon dean was. she stayed at his side, healed him, had a fucking hot tub commissioned for him, and talked him through each existential crisis. she'd been kind enough to protect him on every level while he had nothing to hide himself behind, and cas only hoped there was something in there he could give her in return for it. ] We saw each other, I think. Things in you, I felt echoed in myself, things I didn't think were possible. I can't thank you enough for meeting me there.

[ how funny, for two being so vastly different in composition, and history, and age to come together around a common core. to find one another warming their hands around the same smoldering fire pit of doubt and pain. for all his concern about human versus angel and all his inability to exist as both or whichever one the situation demanded, they found that common ground regardless.

love isn't simple, it isn't linear. it doesn't obey borders and lines and rules. it isn't convenient or expected or according to plan. there's no spell to be evoked or instructions to follow. no fairness or patience to it. it is or it isn't. even when it is, there's no guarantee it'll continue to be. it's an aurora borealis - if you have just the right circumstances, just the right angle, just the right astrophysics and chemicals in the atmosphere and you find yourself at just the right time and place, you're blessed with something inconceivably beautiful and otherworldly, or you mourn the missing of it.

they've spent so much time orbiting each other, jo and dean, dean and cas, pretending what's there isn't real or isn't important or isn't allowed. they've lost things, people, had such a fill of regret they could drown themselves in it. ]

Dean, what're we doing here? [ Cas laughs abruptly, smile soft and simple, the easy, silly way someone who just walked into a wall accidently does. His gaze drifts from Dean to Jo, remembering all they talked about in the spring and feeling spurned on by the warmth of her hand in his. All their life is a burning building, and what are they doing about it. ] We've, all of us, spent so much time running circles around each other and telling ourselves all the things we can't have. What's it gotten us?

[ are any of them doing any better? is any of their self-sacrificing helping the others with their own aches and sorrows? is anyone winning here?

cas looks to his best friend, sees the new lines and wrinkles forming around his eyes, the little wisps of greying hair, smalls hints of the years he's watched gone by. beneath the wear and tear and flannel, still the beautiful soul burning like the heart of a star. he remembers the quiet moments - a park bench near a playground (i have doubts), an ugly motel room and the fear of what guilt could drive him to (talk to me), the low hum of ventilator in a cold hospital room and the salt of tears in the air (i'm not all here, i'm not strong enough). terror and vulnerability passed between them, cradled and held gently for the other, cared tenderly for or simply given space in the shared silence. dean's eyes hold them now with that old, paralyzing fear shuddering behind them, and cas can almost hear the whispers of what's undeserving, what disaster's lurking, the swirling doubt. he couldn't claim he doesn't share some of that fear, but he can do for dean now what he couldn't ever bring himself to before. now what? this. ]

It's a risk, of course, but— [ Cas gently tugs Jo closer in to his side, loops an arm behind her back to drag her in with them if he can, as he reaches up to Dean. He savors the comfortable ease, the rightness in the feeling of Dean's rough cheek under his palm, the way his fingers curl and brush over the back of his neck as Cas steps in closer. The angel blinks a slow and tranquil calm, eyes swimming languidly along in the green of Dean's, unworried - not now, not with this, not with the tension rolls off him and joy bubbling through him. Castiel isn't always right about things he's sure of, maybe not even usually right, but damned if he isn't a pro at stalwart, stubborn commitment to a decision made. He pulls Dean in, fingertips softly weaving into his hair and touching their foreheads together, tucking Jo in next to them, and offers all that's sturdy, certain and immovable in him, regardless or maybe in spite of how foolish or naïve it might be. ] We'll make it up as we go.