snowblindrpg | [log] double meetup bonanza [closed]

Entry tags:

[log] double meetup bonanza [closed]

Characters: Davesprite, Karkat, and the Cat, plus Steph and then Ecks and Castiel
Location: Building 263, then building 254.
Date: Day 246, midday then evening.
Summary: A bird, a crab, and a cat play courier to a super hero and a quilt person. Also, an angel is there.
Warnings: Discussion of/allusion to anomaly murders.

263: A small office building. It's the sort that looks like it should attach to some larger facility, but whatever it might have connected to is long gone. It's two stories: the first contains a small lobby area, a waiting room, and an area for secretaries. Going upstairs reveals a small honeycomb of eerily empty cubicles. There are desks and chairs in each one, but nothing on any desk or placed on any of the cubicle walls. There's one small one-person office in the back that's similarly empty, and two public bathrooms that work, though the water runs cold. On the wall by the desk in the one-person office, a drawing that says "I love you, Daddy!" has been adhered with cat stickers. "ALPHONSE ELRIC, DAY TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY TWO. IF YOU NEED ANY ASSISTANCE, PLEASE CALL @LELRIC." has been written on a wall.

254: This skyscraper is half-ruined: the top of it has clearly collapsed. Still, it's large enough to work as a landmark, what's left seems stable enough, and the doors still work. Going inside reveals a fairly standard-looking lobby. The marble floors were probably pretty once, but are now dusty and cracked. Any signage indicating what this building was for is long-gone, and instead graffiti speaking of the prophet and eye symbols dot the walls.

The elevator shaft and the door to the stairs both open, but there's no elevator car, so it's best to take the stairs. Most of the doors here are ruined, crushed by rubble and debris and impassable, though there wouldn't be anything of use in crushed floors anyway. The top floor, however, is intact, and stepping in reveals what was probably once a floor for offices, though now everything is empty. There is a symbol of the prophet drawn in red paint on the floor by the door, and then a line that can be followed in one of three directions. Each one leads to one of the three skybridges in this building.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Castiel isn't really sure what a good deal of that meant, but he doesn't question it. It's something he's decided he just needs to get used to when talking to humans. ]

No. Descriptions are safe. The prophet Ezekiel once was able to meet with four of my brothers in the same class as myself, and wrote down what he saw. I differ from them mostly in the faces I bear.

[His eyebrows scrunch. Davesprite's Bible studies were pretty lacking as a child, given that he didn't have any.]

Uh, yeah, I don't know Ezekiel. You want to elaborate? Especially on the whole plural faces thing? I'm pretty content just having the one, gotta say.

Oh. [ That's right, most people have not had centuries upon centuries of time to read and a specific vested interest in what Abrahamic scholars were up to. ]

The kind of angel I am have human-like bodies topped by a vessel of holy fire at the shoulders, bearing four arms and four wings, and around the fire are situated the heads of four beasts. The angels Ezekiel met wore the faces of a man, an eagle, an ox, and a lion, but mine are those of an antelope, crow, smilodon, and European honeybee.

[Davesprite caws in something like surprise.]

Dude—

[Wait.]

Okay, first off, that is freaky as shit and I don't know if the end result would be badass or horrifying. But considering even looking a little like that caught you on fire, I'm happy to let you stay human.

But I didn't know you were part crow! Or crow-faced, whatever you want to call it. That's where I get my bird half.

[He holds up his fist for a bump. He is hoping Castiel knows the gesture.]

[ No sell, Davesprite. Castiel just looks at his outstretched fist in mild bafflement for a long moment before continuing. ]

They're admirable creatures. My wings are that of a crow's as well.

[ It's not nearly so dramatic as the first time he demonstrated this particular trick, but Davesprite may notice Castiel's shadow flicker again, briefly leaving the characteristic rounded silhouette of an elliptical wing on the wall behind him. ]

[Davesprite jolts with the ingrained reflexes of someone trained to dodge at the slightest hint of movement and of someone who's fought and nearly been killed by winged enemies in the past. His posture shifts out to a fighting stance. His hand reaches in toward his chest—]

[—and closes on nothing, because he has no sword in Norfinbury. Reality clicks back together, and he lets out a breath.]

Jesus, dude, don't do that. Or don't do it without warning me first.

[His wings half-flap and refold, and he straightens his posture.]

Anyway, hold your fist up like I did.

Oh. I'm sorry. [ His shadow flickers again and his wings fold away and disappear - and if ever that gesture could appear sheepish it does now. He'd intended it as a show of camaraderie, but he'll keep this in mind going forward.

He raises his hand and balls it into a fist, mimicking Davesprite's earlier gesture. ]

Like this?

[Davesprite bumps Castiel's knuckles with his own.]

Like that. You call that a fist bump.

[He puts his hand back down.]

It's not seeing them that I mind; it's them popping up outta nowhere all on the edge of my sight like that. Makes me think of sneak attacks. You want to bring 'em back out, go ahead.

[His own flutter more loosely, like encouragement.]

There were a whole ton of crows that hung around my old apartment. This one tried to steal my game, then stole an egg from me later. Then others that came through my busted window and just chilled around like they owned the place. My very own flock of feathery douchebags, training me up unknown before I joined their ranks.

[ Castiel examines his fist inquisitively after Dave bumps it, as if inspecting it for marks left behind. ]

Oh. Is it a celebratory gesture? [ Humans do a lot of hitting each other out of enthusiasm. It's been one of the great many constants of all cultures across all time. ]

And thank you, but it takes some effort to 'bring them out' in this place. I'll be more careful in the future, though. [ He does understand, at least. Lots of things are startling when you have a very limited field of vision and the achingly slow reaction time of an organic being, as he's been learning himself, here. ]

Oh. So you're a composite of a human and a crow?

[Hmm.]

It can be? It can be for greeting somebody, too, or right now I mean it for solidarity between bird dudes. It's kinda like a high five, but more chill.

[He would hope Castiel knows at least that one. Everybody knows high fives, even Ecks now that he told her maybe a week ago.]

But yeah, man. That and whatever computer code puts a sprite together. That's why I'm orange and missing legs.

[He curls his tail through the air behind him. It is stupidly long.]

[ If Castiel knows what a high five is, he makes no indication that he recognizes the term. But he also tends not to make indications of most things, still having not mastered human body language, so it's a bit hard to tell. ]

Does the crow's identity factor into yours at all? Since it went into creating you. [ He's genuinely curious and a little bit concerned. The whole situation with computers being able to create a being with a soul is one thing, but the possible merging of an animal and human soul is just plain unheard of. ]

[His eyebrows lift.]

I mean... it was a crow. It didn't exactly have a strong sense of self compared to a human dude. But it's part of me, yeah. I've got vague memories of flapping around Houston doing dumbass crow stuff, and trying to steal my game, and then stealing my egg and making a shitty nest of swords and puppet parts to hatch it.

[Also the whole thing with the other sword where it died, but he doesn't want to think about that, let alone mention it if he doesn't have to.]

Kinda got some instincts too? I know how to take care of my feathers, and if you handed me some birdseed I'd eat it. But I'm still more Dave than crow.

[Well. Inasmuch as he still has a claim to Davehood, which at least one person views as questionable. His mouth shifts, but he says no more on that.]

I've never met a crow that didn't have a very strong personality. [ He pauses, then adds, hurriedly; ] No offense.

That does make sense, though. Things like that don't generally happen in the world I was made to watch, but if they did I would assume the human soul would take priority.

[Davesprite shrugs, putting his wings more strongly into the gesture than his shoulders.]

I dunno, man, I think I inherited the feathery douche part just fine. I could crank up the asshole meter if you don't believe me yet, but I don't really have a reason to bring it around on you right now.

No, that's fine. Thank you. [ Again, he has no idea what any of that meant, but it seems kind of Davesprite to offer. He's pretty sure. ]

I do have a question, though. What's a 'douche'?

[Davesprite gives him a laugh—he sounded so sincere in it—and then some more at the question.]

Man, you really don't keep up, do you? A douche is like... Actually, wait. Do you know what an asshole is first? The person kind, not the anatomical one.

[ Castiel nods, seriously. ]

Comparing others to parts of the body viewed as inappropriate or unclean as an insult is older than human language.

[Uh.]

Okay, well, and asshole is somebody who's a jerk. A douche is like an asshole, but like, extra obnoxious, and kind of ignorant about how much of a dickbag they are? I mean I know how much of a douche I am, but it's kind of hard not to after this long.

[Behold: the shitheap where his self esteem is supposed to go.]

[ That's a remarkably unhelpful explanation, Davesprite. Castiel's eyes narrow as he processes it, thinking things over for a long moment before coming to a conclusion. ]

I don't think you compare unfavorably to an asshole, Davesprite.

[That's kind of an unhelpful answer in response. Davesprite blinks at him behind his shades.]

So where do I fall on the asshole scale? By your official angelic measure.

I can speak for no angels other than myself here, but I think you're a good person. You are flippant, disrespectful, and evasive about things you fear or do not understand, but I would hesitate to call you a jerk or a 'dickbag'. Your intentions are good. You care for others. Often there is not much more that can be asked of a person.

[Of all what he expected to hear, this wasn't really it. It's honest—he doubts Castiel would joke—but it's nuanced, too, and overall more positive than he thinks he would deserve. Even if the line calling out his evasiveness makes him want to deny it.]

[His jaw shifts, lips closed. And though nonreligious, it's kind of hard to argue with an angel, at least when he likes Castiel.]

... Thanks.

[His wings shuffle and refold.]

You got any other questions on modern language that I can answer for you?

[ Castiel just nods in a slight 'you're welcome' sort of gesture. He was asked for an assessment and he gave an honest one. That's all there is to it. ]

No, none that come to mind. [ He's sure some will, eventually, but he'll ask them as they arise. ] There are others like you, though? Sprites created by this game. Are they all amalgams of other creatures?

[He tips his hand back and forth.]

Sorta? There's other sprites, but they don't all have regular people in them or animals. A sprite turns out like what you put in it, basically. If you put a knife and a cardboard box into the kernel, you'd end up with a knifeboxsprite that's functionally useless because there's nothing intelligent in it.

But your kind were meant to act as guides. Does that mean a creature must be sacrificed in order for a sprite to fulfill its role?

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