ＣＡＳＴＩＥＬ (angel of thursday) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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abraxaslogs2021-12-10 02:23 pm
unwings) wrote in abraxaslogs2021-12-10 02:23 pm
[OPEN] nature, nurture, heaven, and home
WHO: Castiel and Free Cities residents
WHAT: Intro and catch-all for December
WHEN: Through December
WHERE: Cadens and the Horizon mostly
WARNINGS: None as of yet, will update as needed
MUSEUMS; Castiel sees some sights
CITY EXPLORATION; Castiel makes a friend
Academy of Medicine; Castiel Auditions for Grey’s Anatomy
Market; Castiel Gets His Hustle On
WHAT: Intro and catch-all for December
WHEN: Through December
WHERE: Cadens and the Horizon mostly
WARNINGS: None as of yet, will update as needed
MUSEUMS; Castiel sees some sights
[ While Cas spends his first few days in Cadens touring each of the popular museums, he finds himself intrigued most by the history museum. Much time and attention is paid to the mention of Fey and Daemons, their near extinction and claiming of a territory christened ‘Nocwich’. Studying a map, the trek there seems a long and arduous one, requiring navigation across deserts and mountain ranges. Not likely one he’d be able to make soon, but his interest remains all the same.
Curiosity eating at him, Castiel can’t help but seek more information from any source, once he’s finished studying all he can of the exhibits. ]
When was the last time the Fey were in contact with human settlements? [ Cas asks the museum guest standing nearby, assuming anyone in this city will know more on the topic than he does currently, ] Do expeditions often venture to Nocwich?
[ The Fey of his world are wiley but ancient creatures, though clearly the preferred option to daemons. Either race might have a more accurate insight on the nature of the Old Gods and the Singularity than he trusts the humans of any faction would. Perhaps that should be his next goal. ]
CITY EXPLORATION; Castiel makes a friend
[ Cas doesn’t sleep, not unless he’s extremely low on grace, or grievously wounded, neither of which apply currently. Dean’s made it very clear that standing sentry over him while he’s “getting his 4 hours” is “creepy”, so lingering around the barracks they’ve been provided cots in isn’t an option.
Instead, he takes to exploring the streets of Cadens after dark. Anywhere between midnight and dawn, Cas can be found leisurely pacing along major streets or dirt roads, anywhere in town, browsing along with eyes scanning the scenery like he’s perusing a museum, hands clasped behind his back.
At some odd hour of the night/morning, he happens upon a stray cat. A scrawny, tawny colored thing, fur likely stained darker from grime and dirt. He follows her, joining the journey from one alley to the next, scavenging for scraps in dumpsters, trash cans, and compost piles. When she finds a rubbish bin too tall for her to knock over, or covered to keep her from jumping in, Castiel courteously assists, removing a lid, tipping over the container, or even unwrapping bundles for her inspection.
Catch him anywhere, exploring or on a journey with his new cat friend. ]
Academy of Medicine; Castiel Auditions for Grey’s Anatomy
A; [ Castiel’s toured the museums, which led him to the medical academy, where he paces now in the lobby area, a goal in mind but not entirely certain how to get there. Spotting someone in similar robes to his, he approaches to question them. ]
Hello. [ Short, curt, but not unfriendly, ] I’d like to offer my aid as a healer. Whom should I speak with?
[ Cas has no clue if this person is any level of authority in the medical academy, or local hospitals, but that doesn’t seem to bother him. Ask enough people enough questions and he’ll get there eventually. ]
B; [ Or perhaps he had no luck in the lobby, and snuck his way into the halls of the academy, wandering until he happened upon a group of students, led by an experienced doctor, in a crowded room with pockets of other doctors, staff, and patients about. They appear to be teaching, with two patients set on exams tables at either side of the doctor. Quizzing, the students declare symptoms and propose possible diagnoses, when Cas approaches without invitation, assuming the question is open for anyone to answer.
He leans to the side, and takes a sniff of one patient’s shoulder, before announcing confidently - ] It’s a respiratory infection.
[ When he glances at the patient on the other side, the man’s staring at him as if Castiel’s grown a second head (technically, his true form has 3, so, not entirely inaccurate). The angel takes it as cue to diagnose him as well, leaning over to give a quizzical hair-sniff. ]
This one’s diabetic. [ Cas reports promptly to the attending physician, ] Type 2, insulin resistant.
With mild indigestion.
[ A pause, the group staring at him unsure whether to comment on the rudeness of his interruption, or the audacity that medical conditions can be sniffed out. Either it goes over his head, or Cas doesn't find it worth acknowledging, as he continues on with his goal. ]
Does your Academy offer employment?
Market; Castiel Gets His Hustle On
Blacksmith; No, I don’t have any currency, but I can offer services.
[ the woman attended to customers at the counter between a blacksmith's workshop and market streets arches her brows suggestively, a little waggling, while the muscled wall of a 6’5” man behind her, most likely the husband Castiel’s realizing, looms menacingly, idly slapping a forge hammer against the palm of his hand. There’s been a misunderstanding. ]
No no, not... not those services. Do you need anything lifted? Or killed? [ the smith immediately points to his competition, another blacksmith set up directly across the road. Another misunderstanding. Castiel’s getting worse at this, not better. ] I should’ve specified. Any game animal or malicious creature killed, not fellow citizens.
[ No offense, but you don’t look like you could lift a laundry basket, let alone anything here. The chuckle is a deep, patronizing tone, and Cas tilts his head with furrowed brows. The blacksmith claims no offense, but seems an awful lot like he meant offense. The angel squints, barest hint of a frown forming. Eyes travel past the smith and into his shop. Without requesting entry or preamble, Cas paces past the man, his wife, and his onlooking apprentice, to the massive anvil they’d been hammering on moments ago.
Wordlessly, Cas lifts the iron monstrosity several feet off the ground without a flinch, grunt, or gritting of teeth, easy as rearranging kitchen chairs. Expression flat, he abruptly drops it back into place, rattling the sword stands, tools, and tables around them. A slight crack splinters the stone beneath it.
After an awkwardly silent few seconds, the wife breaks the silence.
Flooring’s added to your tab. What kinda sword you looking for? ]
Bakery; [ In his exploration of available commercial goods, the scent of fresh bread and pastries seizes Castiel’s senses. Following it to a popular local bakery, his eyes drink in the wide array of breads, muffins, pastries with fruit toppings or fillings, and pie. Observing for a moment, he watches a customer barter a basket of eggs for a loaf of specialty bread, someone else with milk for muffins. It gives him an idea. Perhaps not a great one, but we’ll see how it pans out.
Trekking back into the streets, more towards the outskirts and farmland, Cas can be found creeping along after a stray chicken that’s toddling through dirt roads, eyeing this stranger crouched behind her with a suspicious cluck. Usually it's wayward children and bored dogs that stalk the hen, not full grown adults shuffling feet against gravel and earth to sneak closer and closer. The chicken’s right to be wary, and a distressed squawk or three sounds when Cas snaps his arms out to grab her.
Wings flap, feet kick, Cas gets a mouthful of feathers and a couple winged slaps across the face before he finally touches a couple fingers to the bird’s tiny little head. Whether the chicken wants to or not, it goes limp, unconscious. Great. Bartering item acquired.
Ten or so minutes later, he’s back at the bakery, loose chicken feathers stuck in his hair and dirt smudged on his cheeks, yet he looks as if he’d just won the lottery - quite proud of himself. Once at the front of the line, Cas presents the dozing chicken like the grandest prize in the world. ]
I need pie. Please accept this poultry in exchange.
[ some minutes later, he’ll be short one chicken but gained a cherry pie, self-satisfied smile on his face. Somewhere in town, an irate farmer is looking for their missing hen. Feel free to intervene at any point in this process. ]
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They may not find Xena exactly, but it sure as hell looks like they might've found end-of-the-show Gabrielle. )
What the f-
( Way too busy bug-eyeing the situation to notice the angel about to shove him out of the way. Probably a good call, though. Maybe a little too rough on the delivery; he goes sideways, and fumbles the landing thanks to the sword in his hand and the slight preference not to hari kari himself on it.
He spends about 1.2 seconds glancing over at Platinum Kristen Stewart to decide whether or not he should prioritize helping her, but uh.
Yeah, she looks like she can handle herself. And the turtles. And probably them. Simultaneously.
Kill it- )
Okay.
( Yep, right, yeah, on it.
He scrambles to his feet again, flips the sword around in his hand to face the ground, and plunges it straight through the thing's mouth. The screaming turns into a gross gurgling sound, and he heaves it in a little deeper, earning some delightful coughed up blood and turtle spit in the face for his troubles.
Seems like it works, though. Kind of a split-second choice, smarter than trying to figure out where the armored plating begins and ends. )
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When she lands on the hard earth, rolling into a crouch, and looks back up to make sure--
What the fuck? This not at all what Ciri expected when she saw two men just ambling around in the desert. (This isn't even a main road on the way to the outpost. What the hell are they doing out here?) The glint of metal catches her eye, and she notices one of them is holding a sword -- but it's the other one who shoves him out of the way, sending the actually armed man careening away, with apparently very little idea of how to land gracefully with a weapon. They look like they're about to be people jam smeared across the dirt in about three seconds, honestly. ]
Get out of the fucking way!
[ The unarmed man ignores her. And then, he does the most unexpected thing. He stops the chaigon, grabbing it by the edge of its shell and forcing it to a standstill. And then he flips it. Like it weighs about as much as a heavy pot.
Okay. Point taken. At least one of these guys can take care of himself.
Satisfied she doesn't have to figure out very quickly how to take on two of these creatures at once and protect a couple of helpless bystanders, Ciri lets the exceptionally strong fellow do whatever he will with the other chaigon and turns her attention to the frenzied, bleeding one trying to lash her with its tail. The thing has curled into a spiked armor ball with a tail like a club and all other fleshy bits tucked under, but she's killed a few of these by now; she knows the tail is powerful and thickly scaled, but softer than the shell by necessity.
Ciri ducks under the lashing appendage, rolling and coming up on the other side to spin immediately back around, letting the momentum carry through her sword arm, around and back-- just as the chaigon swings toward her in response. It hits her sword in motion, and practically cuts its own tail off. ]
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doesn't change the look shot at dean, flat-eyed with a strong vibe of was doing that right there directly in my face absolutely necessary, but it actually pretty much was this time, so he's letting it go with only mild bitchface.
once the departed mutant-critter goes limp, cas releases it, flopping back against the ground with a hand to his side where the tail had been thwacking at him. maybe yurtle was just a particularly strong monster, but prodding at his side, cas's usually very durable bones are feeling a little flimsy right now. huh. too much going on at the moment to worry about it, and his focus goes to the woman whose fight they just interrupted.
though she seems to be handling it plenty well on her own, truth be told. it's likely they were more a complication than aid for this encounter. hopefully she's not too upset, once she's done stabbing the other monstrosity. ]
It appears we've found the local hunting force.
[ cas winces as he pushes to stand, one hand gripping his side with the other rubbing a sleeve over his face to scrape away spikeadillo residue. Watching Ciri darts around the remaining sand turtle with lethal grace, Cas is awed, not sure if he should try to help or if he'd just be in the way. she's clearly experienced with this line of work, and they ought to consider themselves lucky she was already here before the two of them came on these creatures alone. ]
She's handled that better than your guns could have, Dean. Perhaps swordsmanship lessons are in order.
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With the attitude of a toddler, he grumpily yanks the sword out of Yertle's mouth and wipes it off (with no small amount of disgust) on Castiel's sleeve.
Anyway, back to business.
Ciri's pretty much got this wrapped up — sans tail, it'd bleed to death in a minute or two, tops. The pain and survival instinct get it un-ballifying to lash out wildly with the remaining vestiges of its strength. Just to help things along, a dagger comes whizzing by and thunks itself dead-center of the thing's eye. It wails a pathetic sound that actually makes him feel a little guilty, and comes to rest at Ciri's feet.
Dean shoots the angel a look like nyeh — he's better with daggers than swords — and then strides on over to retrieve it from their fallen quarry. )
Solid ass-kicking. ( He comments, giving her a scrutinizing once-over. ) Sorry to horn in on your rodeo.
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Instead, there's a faint hiss of steel cutting through air and the chaigon cries out pitifully, thrashing violently once more before it crumples, forcing Ciri to regain her footing and jump back quick before its spiky shell can cause any damage on the way down.
Ciri stares at the dagger protruding from its face, following the trajectory to one of the men who'd interrupted her. The one who'd been pushed out of the way by the super-strong fellow.
His scrutinizing once-over is met with an intensely unimpressed and displeased frown. Notably, as he retrieves the dagger, Ciri keeps her sword drawn, held down at her side. Not threatening, exactly. But ready.
Her other hand comes to rest on her hip, posture distinctly annoyed. ]
Warn someone before you go throwing blades in their direction.
I didn't need your help.
[ The way she bites off the word, it's easy to imagine she doesn't think it was particularly helpful at all. ]
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cas stares deadass as his best friend uses him like a man-sized napkin. The rudeness, the audacity, the entire lack of surprise on Castiel’s part. Back home, he might’ve been able to clean the grime away with a wave of a hand and some grace, but not all his powers transferred to this world, altering matter at will being one left behind.
cas huffs a resigned sigh. it's fine. he'll pay it back to him later.
now, there's an irate monster slayer holding on to dean's stray dagger, and at least one of them ought to make nice, if there's any hope of gleaning some new knowledge or advice from this woman. perhaps even a new ally, if they're lucky. ]
Yes, you had it well in hand, that's apparent. [ spoken pointedly, as cas steps forward, bumping dean's side with the gross guts-napkin sleeve as he passes him by to address Ciri directly, expression softening into something polite, and attempting friendly. ] Please forgive my friend, unrequested aid is simply his nature.
[ usually a good thing, considering his line or work and the fact most people of their world don't realize there is someone to request aid from in their realm of problem solving. ]
We're newly summoned to this world and hoped to investigate local monster life.
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The bitchiest bitch face of all time.
Anyway, time for a little smooth maneuvering to maybe deescalate: )
You know if there's any more of them running around here we oughta be worried about? Because I didn't think to pack my bazooka for this one.
( These monsters are turning out to be a little more... monster-y than he's used to. Which is fine and all, but it figures this is the one time he has a completely valid excuse to use the grenade launcher and it ain't even in the same dimension. )
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(She also definitely assumes bazooka is the name of a sword. Whoops.)
She surveys them a few seconds longer, keeping an eye on the dagger but making no move to stop him from taking it. There is no indication whether or not his friend is forgiven, but Ciri does answer said friend's question. Looking directly at the other guy (Castiel) as she does. ]
Plenty more where these came from. Though they tend to be solitary beasts. Two at once like this is unusual. [ She'd been taken off guard, honestly -- not that she'll say as much. No way she could have expected the second chaigon barreling in out of nowhere while she was only halfway through dispatching its friend. Or mate. ]
They also rarely wander this close to the city.
[ She's beginning to put the pieces together. The merchant who had hired her complained of losing goods and having trouble hiring wagon drivers due to increased chaigon activity on the way to Aquila. A mating season, perhaps? Would explain the over-aggression, even by chaigon standards, and the unusual number of them seen together. Ciri frowns thoughtfully, lips pressed together, glancing between the two corpses. She might be able to convince the client to hire her longer term as a wagon escort until the beasts disperse again.
--in any case. She'll deal with that later.
Now, she has two dead chaigons and two new idiots on her hands. ]
Consider being less cavalier about throwing around your origins in the future. We are a handful in a vast city, and lots of folks aren't from Cadens to begin with. If you must, say you're from afar.
[ Never know when someone might start getting ideas about their kind. Ciri prefers not to throw that kind of information about casually, but to another pair of Summoned, it only makes sense to let them know she is one too. They tend to keep an eye on one another. ]
When did they pull you out?
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How frequent are Chaigon mating seasons? [ probably what everyone's already thinking, but Mr. Obvious felt compelled to voice it. ] Perhaps their usual mating grounds were disturbed, driving them here instead.
[ or they're just so very infrequent that everyone forgets about it in between? it's an interesting quandary, and Cas shuffles around the corpses to inspect them for some indication of sex, or pregnancy. A part of him laments slaying them now, if the creatures were just behaving per their nature. They don't seem like the kind of intentionally malevolent monsters that vampires, werewolves, and wendigos are.
it's something to add his list of things to ponder extensively on, while the rest of the city sleeps. maybe a method to safely herd them elsewhere can be devised. it'll take more researching the species, but with Ciri more acquainted with them, it may be beneficial to prod her for more information.
the idea's forgotten with her advise to law more low about their status here, castiel's head giving a small tilt as he considers the warning. ]
Do natives outside Cadens not hold a high opinion of the Summoned?
[ yes, he'll be more careful about it, but he'd also like to know if there's danger to be expected if they are exposed. ]
We arrived roughly a week ago.
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( It's muttered under his breath as he rolls his eyes, clearly intended for absolutely nobody. Ya boy really just likes the sound of his own voice sometimes.
Anyway— )
Cas doesn't have the most first-hand experience with humanity. ( He says to Ciri by way of explanation, and then directs a little education Castiel's way. ) People suck. We're aliens. Anything that ain't from where they're from is gonna get side-eyed, that's just the way it works. Doesn't matter if it's medieval fantasy land or Maimi, some things don't change.
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[ She glances between the two men again with a flicker of surprise when told the strong one (Cas) doesn't have much experience with... humanity? Some sort of non-human, then. That would explain the unusual strength. Ciri knows, of course, that just because he looks like a human man doesn't mean he can't be anything else; she just has no idea, simply by looking at him, what that something else could possibly be. Probably not a vampire, as one would probably have chosen a different way to handle the beast than brute force. For now, though, she does not ask. ]
Your friend is right.
[ A nod, considering Dean. He talks like Julie, or Sam. In fact, she's pretty sure Julie has used very similar words ('medieval' and 'fantasy,' in particular). Unlike Julie or Sam, though, these folks seem entirely acquainted with the concept of monsters. ]
Doesn't matter what their opinions are, as a whole. There's no reason to invite them in the first place.
[ While she talks, Ciri wipes the blood off her sword with a cloth she produces from one of her belt pouches, sheathes it, and pulls out her dagger instead, its blade a shining silver with an intricate pommel decorated on top with a relief of a snarling wolf. ]
I'm Ciri. Been here a few months.
They summoned you at the outpost? Did they tell you they expect anything of you there?
[ She crouches by the nearest chaigon corpse, examining it from the side, and begins wedging her dagger underneath the shell near the neck. ]
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ciri seconds the lecture, and it's a strange feeling for cas. typically, he's the only truly strange and alien thing around. it's difficult to tell if it's comforting to be part of a larger group now, or just... more unfortunate.
regardless, his focus is stolen entirely by ciri's carving into the dead monster, head steadily progressive to a near 45 degree tilt. ]
It's nice to meet you, Ciri. I'm Castiel, and this is Dean- [ rattled off rather quickly, to get to his more pressing question; ]
Is it customary to mutilate the corpse?
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Hey Ciri, play Led Zeppelin.
( Hue hue hue, followed by a little elbow at Cas. Get it? Like... Siri?
...No?
Okay, anyway. He clears his throat. Shakes it off. Moving on. Cas can figure out why this is going down on his own, he's a smart guy. Dean's already tracking, so he gives a nod toward the beast. )
You want a hand with that?
( Provided it doesn't get a dagger thrown at him, he'll jump in and lend a hand. He may not know jack squattery about whatever the hell these things are, but he knows how to skin a deer. And... a lot of other things. You mutilate one corpse, you've mutilated 'em all, am I right?
While they work, he'll answer her question and happily bitch all about what exactly they got told about expectations, and how they can all eat his ass. Enjoy the rant. )
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So she is patient when she answers Castiel, even though in her mind it's obvious. ]
I wouldn't call it customary. I'm cutting the shell off. Chaigon shells, claws and tongues fetch a pretty pile of coins at certain apothecaries. Once I sold a whole corpse to the museum researchers, but it was more trouble to lug all the way back to the city like that.
Either way. It's a waste to leave them.
[ At some point, her explanation is interrupted by the dean saying something weird alongside her name, which Ciri ignores in favor of continuing to talk about her intentions with the corpses while slicing up said dead animal. The shells are pretty big too, but her horse isn't too far away (tied up near a creek off the road, to keep from spooking when she'd noticed the chaigon tracks).
She glances up when he approaches, but makes no move to stop him. ]
If you know what you're doing, sure.