[OPEN] nature, nurture, heaven, and home

[unwings]

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

[ 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. ]

Comments

[righteously]

Things I didn't expect to be doing with my day: discussing Chaigon mating habits.

( 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.

[wiedzminka]

I don't know. Something to ask about at the museum, perhaps.

[ 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. ]

[unwings]

[ well, dean's not wrong, so cas makes no argument, attention rapt on his educating friend as he soaks up the new lesson on humanity. it's fairly clear this isn't the first of instance of this, nor will it be the last. it ends with a thoughtful frown and minute nod of understanding. unfortunate as it is, that does track.

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?

[righteously]

( Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it— )

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. )

[wiedzminka]

[ ...dean of what? Ciri looks expectant for a moment, but then the subject is changed. Okay. Maybe they're researchers or something? Castiel had been eager to ask about the mating habits and such pretty quickly. It would explain why they're wandering around out here, if they study beasts.

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.