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realityshifted2014-07-17 10:58 pm
hollowly) wrote in realityshifted2014-07-17 10:58 pm
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[ funny, how he never would have thought to see this place again.
a year out of hell, still with no memory of how he'd ended up topside again – and, to be perfectly honest, not really caring much either way about figuring it out – and here he is again, stars beneath his feet and eyes taking in surroundings that are becoming increasingly more familiar.
he hadn't realized he'd forgotten.
faces, names, memories are all coming flooding back to him, and while there should be at least a flicker of emotion across his expression, his own face remains eerily calm. as a blank slate, very nearly, as he begins walking toward the one place that had always felt like a second home to him. ( the library, of course. what else in this place could connect with him so easily, so perfectly? )
anyone that happens across him might be able to notice that there's something different – something off about him – even though he smiles as he had before. it won't be immediate, but a gradual sort of thing, and while he might be aware of it somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, he doesn't think about it.
even if it remains a small, niggling thing that occasionally brings about his notice, but it's only ever a flicker, and nothing more. ] What do you have for me this time? [ he asks no one in particular, merely the expanse of air in front of him as he approaches the library, remembering the ordeal with the withdrawal symptoms that had come out of thin air.
demon blood … still tricky stuff, no matter how you look at it, isn't it? ] Whatever it is … I'll be ready for it. [ or so he's convinced himself.
a year away from this place, and coming back around again, things already feel different.
will it be for better or worse? ]
( ooc; guess who's back, back again? have fun with the boy fresh from the beginning of season six~ )
a year out of hell, still with no memory of how he'd ended up topside again – and, to be perfectly honest, not really caring much either way about figuring it out – and here he is again, stars beneath his feet and eyes taking in surroundings that are becoming increasingly more familiar.
he hadn't realized he'd forgotten.
faces, names, memories are all coming flooding back to him, and while there should be at least a flicker of emotion across his expression, his own face remains eerily calm. as a blank slate, very nearly, as he begins walking toward the one place that had always felt like a second home to him. ( the library, of course. what else in this place could connect with him so easily, so perfectly? )
anyone that happens across him might be able to notice that there's something different – something off about him – even though he smiles as he had before. it won't be immediate, but a gradual sort of thing, and while he might be aware of it somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, he doesn't think about it.
even if it remains a small, niggling thing that occasionally brings about his notice, but it's only ever a flicker, and nothing more. ] What do you have for me this time? [ he asks no one in particular, merely the expanse of air in front of him as he approaches the library, remembering the ordeal with the withdrawal symptoms that had come out of thin air.
demon blood … still tricky stuff, no matter how you look at it, isn't it? ] Whatever it is … I'll be ready for it. [ or so he's convinced himself.
a year away from this place, and coming back around again, things already feel different.
will it be for better or worse? ]
( ooc; guess who's back, back again? have fun with the boy fresh from the beginning of season six~ )
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he perks up a bit at that. ] He had something to do with some snow and ice a while back, didn't he? [ because yes, he'd seen him lurking about in the background,
creep-creep-creeping] I remember that. I haven't spoken to him, personally, but … I get the feeling he's got his hands in just about everything around here. [ as a being calling himself 'loki' is wont to do. of course.observing from the outside.it doesn't matter that she hadn't been looking for an apology – truth be told, there was little weight behind the words, anyway – so he just shrugs it off in turn, rolling along with the thread of the conversation in whichever direction it chooses to unravel. ] Then I guess there's nothing to be done about it. [ astute observation, there, smarter winchester. ] Maybe wherever he is now, he's raising nine kinds of hell. Enjoying himself.
[ or. you know. he could be dead. ]
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[but his last comment catches her by surprise] You don't know where he is? [she frowns] He didn't flee Earth after all, did he?
[really, she wants to ask him about the Apocalypse that Gabriel told her was drawing so near, but she's not sure how you bring that up with someone you've only just met--especially since Gabriel said the Winchesters were the cause of it in the first place]
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it's his turn to frown when she asks him that – and he wonders if he should tell her. because he does know, of course he does, but he at least has some decency left in him to think that it wouldn't be the best sort of thing to just sort of come out with the fact that someone isn't alive anymore.
there's a small pause, and he finally decides. ] He's … dead. [ w e l p. why don't you go ahead and ask about that apocalypse now? ] Lucifer killed him.
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[that was quite possibly the last thing she thought she would hear, and it shows. but after that first moment of shock and horror, her expression tightens--closes up. but even as she tries to rein in her feelings, bitterness is still clear in her tone]
So he chose a side after all. Left this place, just in time to actually get killed. [she pauses for a beat] Damnit.
[inwardly, she's telling herself that she shouldn't be upset--that Gabriel was never a friend. but that doesn't stop the emotions that she's trying so hard to lock up tight]
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no?
well all right then.
he at least lets a bit of softness creep into his expression when he sees how shocked she is, and he stops in his perusal of the books to turn to face her directly. ] … Chose a side? [ he's perplexed, mostly because he'd never thought of gabriel to be the type to choose any side other than one that would benefit him the most, but if it has anything to do with the war in heaven and the chaos it brought for everyone involved, well …
he had let him and his brother in on the secret of how to get lucifer back in his cage. but who wouldn't have benefited from that? ]
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and even though he's thinking about that night in the hotel, recalling everything as though it had happened the day before, he remains as aloof as anything with what comes out of his mouth next. ]
We didn't push. Nobody could ever push him to do anything unless he wanted to do it. [ a beat. ] He tried to pull something, and got himself killed.
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[admittedly, at least half of the anger that she's putting on Sam now is really anger toward herself. she pushed Gabriel, and then he went out and died. and she knows it's probably ridiculous to blame herself, but she still feels like she had a part in it. but so did Sam, and she doesn't appreciate this reaction from him at all. scowling, her voice is quieter as she continues, but it carries the same force of bitterness] Great to know when he took a stand it didn't mean a thing to the people he was taking the stand for.
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[ so it doesn't count. or hadn't he explained that to you?
right now, in this very moment, he doesn't feel any blame for the death of an angel. the death of a friend. the strain of logic working its way through his mind is going somewhere along the lines of this: they had needed his help, sure. that part he will never deny. he'd taken a stand for himself and for himself alone – both he and dean have come to grips with that fact, even so long after it had happened. gabriel had tried to convince his little brother to stand down, and he hadn't.
it's no one's fault that he'd paid the price for standing up to the morning star with his own life. ]
Look. He wanted us to play our parts, and ultimately, we did. Just not the way he wanted, and when he realized that we weren't going to bend to his suggestions, he stood up for himself. Himself. [ and now he's going back to perusing the shelf before him. ] You can't talk back to the devil without there being some sort of consequences.
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[and his continued explanation about that isn't doing a thing to cool her temper] Right. Well, that's not 'ow I heard it. [her tone is sharp. because although arguably someone who was there should know better than she would, she can't let go of the fact that Gabriel knew he could just walk away. he wanted to walk away, and the man that she last saw was definitely one who was tormented by the fact that whatever conscience he did have was stopping him from doing so. staying and facing Lucifer himself couldn't have been entirely selfish--leaving would have been]
[and she decides to say as much] You know Gabriel could 'ave left--avoided the whole Apocalypse. And he didn't. [she eyes Sam] So maybe he had 'imself in mind, but getting yourself killed to save the Earth? Doesn't sound that selfish to me. [her tone is dark] I could be wrong.
[that said, she grabs her book and stands. because even though she's still curious about how things turned out, she knows that she's had as much of Sam's version of events as she can take for now. and as she doesn't much care what he thinks of her, she acts without hesitation] Good luck finding whatever you're looking for. [the words are cold, insincere. and without saying any more, she turns and walks briskly away, disappearing into the stacks]