ooc: if i were to quit, would you guys be super upset? if you haven’t noticed, i’ve been MIA a lot with stuff IRL, and I’ve been suffering from ennui as well. i’m not sure if it’s an inspiration thing, or a permanent thing. i’m not even sure if i should quit at all, or if i should just start anew. if i quit, would you guys want to stay in touch with skype or something? or if i changed characters, what would you think? this is open to replies, and you can fanmail or message me too. i’m just… not sure what i ought to do these days but i feel this overwhelming feeling i’ll be letting everybody down.
ooc: can’t focus on rp when it’s halloween x_x how is everyone’s spooky eve tonight? we were handing out candy to all the kids in the neighborhood, and now i’m planning a candy binge (i never eat candy, so this is exciting) and paranormal activity’s trilogy on netflix.
“Sam? What do you mean? How did you end up there? Oh… okay okay. I’ll do what I can. Be careful.”
Castiel smiled, giving her hand a tight squeeze. “Okay.” He said, and then they vanished. Suddenly they were standing in South America, in the jungle, and he was gazing up into the trees. “There!” He shouted, pointing out a marmoset that was peering down at them.
Brown eyes follow the movement of the woman, taking in how this particular human looked and found some qualities similar to the souls that she helped torture. She blinks slowly as she directs her attention back to Castiel.
Once again her posture is rim rod straight as she is attentive to what he is saying. Though, this seems offfset by how she is holding the flower so close to her chest. Those doe-like eyes dart over the man’s features and takes in what he explains.
“Are you saying I’m your special person?” Eyebrows furrow and raise somewhat, a familiar expression that Meg does. It’s one of confusion, exasperation, and in this case, not understanding how that is possible.
The topic is swiftly changed and she shifts so that she is slouching in the booth again. Her gaze drifting down to the flower and she all but pets at the petals just below her face. The memories of Hell seem a bit jumbled, but the first thing to come to mind upon his words of prompting is:
“Alastair.” The name is said fondly, lips pulling up. “He was teaching me something new and I was following instructions on a particular Soldier, I think.”
Castiel didn’t hesitate with his nod. Of course she was his special person. She was his only person, but that didn’t change anything. He smiled, unable to help himself when he saw that familiar confusion playing on her sweet little face. If he were prone to human thoughts, he’d be wondering if a child between the two of them would make that very face. He wasn’t though. He was just admiring how alike she was to her older self.
“You are always a special person. Even before you and I met.” He told her, as he began fiddling with the silverware on the table. However, the way she delicately touched the flower he’d given her, he couldn’t resist but glance up at her. She seemed to like the impromptu gift, even if she didn’t really grasp the meaning anyways. It seemed entirely foreign to her - not the gift itself, but the meaning that went with it. Understandable, he supposed.
The name she gave - he should have been less surprised. He knew she had been well-trained in Hell, that she’d been someone of importance. However, to know she was literally trained by the best… it was something about her he had never known. And for that single heartbeat he tried to keep his expression blank, not wanting her to inquire too much about where Alastair was now. He’d lose her, surely. He couldn’t let her slip away, especially if she were upset about her mentor. Not when she was like this.
That single expression flitted away for something more blank and curious. He set the silverware down and sipped the drink in front of him. “I know about a demon named Alastair. He’s pretty famous from where I come from too. I hear he’s the best in Hell. Are you his only pupil?”