entranceway | [001; video/action; open]

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[001; video/action; open]

[ It's not certain at first whether the video has been switched on intentionally. There isn't any direct addressing of the network. There's just the spinning image of a hallway (the fifth floor, for those of you playing at home) the occasional glimpse of long, brown hair and the unmistakable sound of delighted laughter. It slows down, eventually, comes to a complete stop and the laughter abruptly cuts off. Instead of the walls, the feed shakes and jerks as she turns it around and River's face is visible, peering directly at the little device. ]

Curious name and curious nature. The walls have secrets and she doesn't know what they are.

[ She frowns a moment, then turns to eye a window with a clearly suspicious look. ]

They're hiding something.

[ She stares for a moment or two longer, then starts to skip off down the hallway again. It takes a while for the feed to cut out, in the end it only happens because she decides to sit down outside a door in one swift movement, and drops the little tablet thing in the process. ]

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[Castiel has been meditating. His Grace is slipping away more and more everyday, what once was brilliant and vast now suddenly so very limited, and he is trying to conserve that energy somewhat.

The wanderings of his mind are interrupted when there is a thump in the hallway. He leaves the room the human way, through the door, and finds River sitting against Dean's door one room down. Castiel's expression doesn't change, although looking closely one might detect a softening around his eyes even through the stoic mask.]

River.

[ River's expression on the other hand, changes almost completely. She smiles brightly as he says her name, stretches her legs out comfortably in front of her and tips her head a little to the side as she points to the nearest reflective surface.

It's something that has been weighing heavily on her mind since her arrival, though the grin and light hearted riddles don't say as much. It's just something that has been there since the beginning. If there's someone she can rely on getting a straight answer from, it's him though. Or at least, that's what she believes already. Strange how little time it took for that piece of faith, however small it may be, to set in stone. ]

Why do they whisper behind my back? I don't like secrets.

[Castiel follows her finger and frowns, then casually positions himself between River and the mirror. They really don't need to spy on his charges, and that apparently includes the girl now. He will need something other than 'his human' to call her, of course, seeing as that term is reserved for Dean already.

Slowly he's beginning to understand why angels aren't meant to form close social connections. They apparently require a lot of effort.]

The Queen created alter egos of ourselves. They can spy on us with the mirrors. They're evil.

[Obviously. Well, Castiel's mirror is evil, and therefore he just assumes they all are.]

[ She does look slightly relieved as Castiel moves between the mirror and her, but that doesn't mean she's going to stop eyeing it with mistrust. It's worse, what little she can make out from beyond the mirror, precisely because she can't actually make it out. It's almost like a radio on just out of earshot. She knows the sounds are there, the voices echoing away like any other, but as hard as she tries she can't decipher anything. It's frustrating, distressing, and she doesn't like it one bit. ]

They have no right to take a face, flip it and change it an call it by a name already possessed. It's not theirs, they can't take it.

[ Distress isn't something River handles particularly well, and she presses her hands to her face for a moment before standing. She draws a little closer to Castiel so that she can peer around him and stare at the mirror again. ]

Evil in name or evil in nature?

They are the opposites of us. What is good becomes evil.

[Castiel is yet at a point in time in which he can hold fast to such a simple, absolute ruling. As River steps closer he reaches out to gently place his hands on the side of her head to cover her ears. Don't listen, the gesture says, though he knows she has little choice. She hears things no other human can, and soon enough he will fall into the ranks of those who can't hear, either.

Until that day comes, he can ensure she is well.]

Shall we go outside?

And what of the beings who toe the line, teeter between righteous and corrupt and never settle on one given side?

[ Of course the hands over her ears don't block anything out, but the gesture is comforting all the same. She holds herself still, taking a slow breath in and out, and finally she looks away from the mirror and at Castiel instead. ]

Running away won't deter the spies lying in wait. [ It's more of a comment than an expression of concern this time though, and after another quiet pause she nods her head in agreement. The mirror people are still an issue for her, knowing what the source of the problem is has certainly helped, but of course the idea of a perfect opposite to her doesn't sit well.

She's curious, though. Maybe River behind the mirror is a normal, functioning girl. Maybe River in the mirror is a better copy, less broken. As her thoughts wander towards that direction she tenses up again, and when the offer is made to get away from the shrouded whispers she leaps on it quickly. ]

The chaos calms in the face of the sun. No space for the creatures of the dark to lurk.

[What about those beings, indeed. For a moment, Castiel looks at a loss. Angels are supposed to be absolute, but the longer Castiel spends among humanity, the more he has to realize that it's often not quite that simple. He inclines his head, accepting that he will need to consider those concerns more. Sometimes he almost yearns for the long centuries when everything was easy, when he knew the difference between wrong and right, evil and good, and had no need to question it, as he was but a weapon to be pointed in the direction his superiors deemed correct.

Free will is not an easy concept to wield.

For now, they can focus on easier things, though. Castiel takes one hand away from the side of her head and presses two fingers to her forehead. The rustle of invisible wings is the only warning River gets as Castiel takes flight with her. Their momentum through space is far too great togive her a real sense of flying, of course, but there is a slightly unpleasant yanking sensations and a split second of free falling sensation before they come to an aprubt halt in the gardens by the pond.

Castiel had briefly considered the roof, but that would be for himself. For River, he supposes grass beneath her feet will be more pleasant, and the sun touches them even here.

Once they come to a stop, he takes his hands off her. His wings feel more heavy than they should after carrying such a light burden from here to there, a testimony to how far he's fallen.]

[ Few things shock her any more. Anything she hasn't seen, she's read about, or has learned about, or has come across in one way or another. Even an angel, the warriors of the Shepherd's God, she knows the theory behind them. There's very little she doesn't know about in some way.

Flight - this kind of flight - is something she doesn't know anything about in any way.

When they appear outside she spins around on the spot slowly, eyes wide with surprise for a moment or two, then she lets out a near delighted laugh. It's a strange mixture of shock and awe, and she stares around at the garden in wonder. It's no Serenity, but it's still amazing. ]

His wings are functional too? She's flown before but never that fast. [ Seriously. She's still a little dizzy, not that she notices that much. Castiel though, that she notices. It's not any one particular movement or gesture, it's just that everything seems to almost sag. ]

Perhaps the angel's wings should be left for him alone. [ It's pointed out carefully, hands clasped behind her back as she leans towards him. ] She has two functional feet, slower and less graceful but an adequate alternative. Even shoes, somewhere.

[ ...Maybe. Provided she remembers where exactly those had been left. ]

[Castiel's face slides into something impassive, but it's a mask to protect his last shreds of dignity. To be weakened by such a short flight with such a light load is... it's disconcerting, to say the least, and he is all to glad to follow her into a changed subject.

The less he has to think about what his exhaustion means, the better for anyone involved. There is a gnawing, empty pain somewhere inside his chest that he can't put a name to, but it grows the more of himself he loses to his slow fall from Grace, cruel and inevitable. He doesn't regret the choices he made, but that doesn't mean he is equipped to handle the consequences.]

You seem to enjoy walking without shoes.

[ She knows a conversation change when she hears one, but one look at Castiel is enough to tell her not to pry. Perhaps another time she'll bring it up, carefully of course but she will ask. Now doesn't seem to be the time, though she does take a few light steps over to rest a hand on his shoulder instead. Maybe the comforting gesture will be lost on him, but she does it all the same. ]

Restrictions. She already has enough, any chances to sever the bonds will be taken. [ She can't help the fond smile that tugs away at the corners of her lips when she finishes that, and with a small shrug as she drops her hands to her side, she adds: ] It's harder to dance.

[When she puts her hand on his shoulder, Castiel glances down at it for a moment. Physical touch is sometimes strange to him, and he doesn't like to indulge in too much of it especially now that he's beginning to feel so much. But the gesture is oddly familiar, and after a moment he can place it.

Dean.

This is how Dean often grasps his shoulder, too, a warm but firm pressure. This is the touch of a friend.

Huh. Initial suspicion soon meltes into a brief flicker of pleasant surprise, then Castiel filters this new information away and glances at River's feet.]

You enjoy dancing?

[ A brief wiggle of her toes accompany Castiel's glance in their direction, and then she steps back, holds her arms out as she stretches them either side of her, then nods slowly. ]

She can't trip over words and phrases when she dances. Everyone understands movement.

[ Of course it hadn't always been about that, there had been a time where she'd enjoyed it simply because it was fun, but it's been a long time since anything has ever been so simple to her. Now everything is shrouded in meaning and even simple pleasures have a bigger impact. ]

Do angels dance? His suit seems too tight for freedom but perhaps when he's big and bright?

Angels have no culture.

[Not in the way humans do. No arts, visual or otherwise, and that means no dance. There is the Host's song, but it is both praise sung to their Father and the way angels communicate. Castiel has no doubt, she would understand that much, but the truth of the matter is much more grim.]

Our wings carry us from point to point. Angels are created to watch, to stand guard, to fight.

[He's very good at standing very still for very long. Castiel does not understanding movement or touch or emotion. You could say he's been created lacking many things.]

But he's not a symbol anymore. Not a man, not a soldier, something more. Something different and new. If he doesn't make their culture, how will anyone know what songs they should be singing?

[ She can't imagine that. When dancing comes as easily to her as breathing comes to most people, the idea of just not having something like that sounds wrong. It doesn't sit right in her head, and she frowns for a moment.

It doesn't last long. Barely seconds pass before she's taking slow steps towards him, a slight grin tugging away at her lips that she barely tries to restrain, and she holds out a hand towards him. ]

He showed her how he flies. Took out his wings and spread them just for her. Let her show him how she flies.

[Castiel would normally point out that River Tam does not have wings and possesses no ability to fly without the help of outside machinery, as all humans do. He loos at her outstretched hand, then back at her, but doesn't reach out. It's not rejection, so much as plain, obvious confusion.

There is not even the slightest clue about what she intends to do. Immovable and still, Castiel can't comprehend the very simple implication.]

There are no more songs. There's only exile, and battle because of it.

[A rebel, an outcast, hunted and hated.]

[ She raises her eyebrows at him, clearly unimpressed with the lack of enthusiasm. The concept that he doesn't realise what she's offering doesn't even occur to her, it seems so obvious. ]

So write them.

[ As if it's as simple as that. She keeps up her raised eyebrows as she looks at him, gazing away rather curiously as she waits for his reaction. Not permission though, of course not, and she takes one of his hands slowly before reaching out to pick up the other too.

After a brief pause for yet more staring, quietly observing as she waits for a reaction, she starts to hum a nonsensical, made up tune out loud as she steps backwards, trying to prompt him to come with her. ]

If he could write songs like the humans do, sing of the truly important things, what would he sing about? What words need to burst forth from the heart that isn't his, let out into freedom, what does he need to clear from his conscience?

[Castiel is an angel of the Lord, immovable expect by forces as great or great as him. Still, he lets River pull him along almost entirely without resistance the same way he lets Dean push and pull him along until he's angry with the human. Which, incidentally...]

The Righteous Man. I would tell his story, always. The story of how two boys, an old drunk and a fallen angel attempt to stop the greatest event to ever be foretold.

[Castiel narrows his eyes in thought, eyes slipping away from River and slightly downwards, unusual for a creature that usually stares into another's soul without shame or hesitation. Maybe his fingers grasp River's hands a little more. Maybe something softens around his eyes and mouth. It's not quite a smile, not quite fondness, but it makes this ancient creature look younger, gives warmth to the terrible force of light and energy that is an angel of the Lord. Castiel has grown too close to the humans in his charge. It's helped him change, and through all the pain and hardship one truth rings through his very being: If anything is worth dying for, it is this.]

It's about a man and his world, and both deserved to be saved.

[ There, that's what she was hoping for. She takes a few steps backwards, ever so slowly as she keeps humming, and as he starts to talk she takes a few steps to the side. Nice and smooth, still slow so he can follow at will.

The Righteous Man. Deserving of so much yet receiving so little, and yet, and yet still he goes on.

[ She knows this story, the little whisper in the back of her mind feeding the details that she wasn't consciously aware that she knew. She doesn't put two and two together yet though, mostly because she's not trying. She just goes on with her humming, giving his hands a gentle squeeze before swaying them out to the side slightly. ]

The Righteous Man and his companions, the ones with gentle places in his heart that will never be lost, where does the story end? Does he stop the chorus of screams in their heavenly plea?

[ It's only partly to encourage more conversation, and mostly because she genuinely wants to know how the rest goes. She has the little details, flitting in between the spaces of the whole story without giving much substance she can enjoy.

She wants to know how the story ends, and she wants to hear Castiel's song. While waiting for him to continue, she starts off on her humming and slow steps backwards and to the side again, never once letting go of his hands. ]

[Castiel... doesn't move, not really. He lets River swings their hands, lets her move. Occasionally, he turns a little with her so they're still facing one another even as she keeps swaying. What an odd girl, and so in love with her own slow sway. Castiel doesn't understand it, any of it, but... she enjoys it. And just like he can't help but smile back when Dean laughs, he can't help but indulge River. They're his charges, after all.]

I have not reached the end of that story. Dean told me about it. The world is saved. We lose each other. I destroy everything.

[Castiel doesn't sound broken about it, because no matter how much he fears this reality, it is still only a story to him. He can hardly understand his feelings of the present - how can he know what to feel about the future? He won't find his Father, but he will help save the world. They will lose Sam, but Dean will survive. They will split up, but at least for a while, Dean will be happy. There will be war, but... There will be war. And it is his fault.]

[ He's indulging her, she knows that, but she'll take it anyway. She steps carefully, in a slow pace, and she takes him with her. She's not going to let go of him any time soon, and even if he doesn't necessarily understand the movements she'll take him through them anyway. It's not quite what she'd call dancing, just gentle steps until they've come full circle, then forwards and backwards again. ]

If he has not yet reached the end of the story, then perhaps his Righteous Man hasn't either. She doesn't know much of your world, the angels and demons and fights from Heaven and Hell, protecting the beloved Earth above all else, but she has heard. Some of the words, at least. There may be hope yet.

[ Because that can't be the end of the story, not really. She's barely touched Dean's mind, can't even begin to graze the surface of Castiel's, but somehow, she's sure that it goes on. It can't end there. Castiel may only be telling her a story, but it doesn't sound right<.i> for it to have a sad ending. ]

I wouldn't know. I have yet to live through it.

[Castiel isn't sure he wishes to. Here, now, he can keep Dean safe. He can choose to always honor everything between them, never to falter no matter what greater good there is. They are in limbo, the Apocalypse is halted for Castiel, and it's never happened for Dean.

Should they ever return home, they will lose one another, because they have been plucked from different corners of time. Castiel will never meet this Dean without betraying him first, and Dean will never meet a Castiel who hasn't failed him.

Limbo... is preferrable, right now.

Castiel will know that he doesn't find his Father, but never be forced to face it. It makes him a coward, and he doesn't even care.]

How would you wish for it to end?

[Castiel can take an educated guess. He will be stuck in Purgatory at least. Alternatively, he will be freed, and he will watch over the Winchesters until they die.

It's a sad story, outside of limbo.]

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