November Mingle

[etrayamods]

WHO: Everyone!
WHEN: November 22nd - Early December
WHERE: Etraya
WHAT: The arrival of newcomers, and an unexpected guest!
NOTES\WARNINGS: N/A, please note any needed warnings in threads.

⏵ arrival ⏴ Welcome to Etraya! Arrival goes as expected - or it would, except it is not just Aurora that greets the newcomers as they arrive. Certainly they receive their earpiece so they can communicate with one another as those before them have, however there is what seems to be a woman waiting for them that is of a more flesh and blood persuasion as they leave the hospital. She carries an air about her that isn't quite like the newcomers themselves, but she is decidedly not one of the companion bots, nor Aurora. She has bone-straight blonde hair reaching past her shoulders, with a straight-cut fringe hanging above her eyes. The black dress that ends just before her mid-thighs also has a rather revealing neckline, though the sleeves which cover her arms almost feel like a mockery of modesty considering the rest. She is also wearing black stockings and black pumps, and the red of her lipstick is striking against the extreme contrast in shades she otherwise holds. As each newcomer independently files out of the hospital, she makes certain to garner their individual attention, either with a wave of her hand, a wiggle of her fingers, or directly calling them over. She is persistent, and with being so new, it is wise to heed her. Not that anyone can force one to, if they choose to walk away, nor does she seem interested in trying to, but she has her means for those proving stubborn. However, those who aren't... “Hey! I know you’re not just walking past me. I’ve got- you know, plot relevant, written all over me. I picked this dress out just for you, you know?’ “C’mere, listen up. Mama’s got a little bit of homework for you, but it’s gonna help you, too, okay? I need you to go find the hot goss, the piping hot tea on the street for me. Find out what everyone’s saying about the people we’re stuck with, okay? People are a lot more relaxed and honest when they talk about others, right? This is about efficiency. Efficiency, honey. Don’t worry, I’ll be in the trenches, too. But make sure you come find me again. I’ll be around here, okay? I know you’re as confused as I am. Well no. I’m much less confused than you are. But if you can tell me about the people here, I’ll tell you more about where you are and what this is about.” For those who ignored her, or those not newly arrived, they will receive a message through their earpiece: “Girl. Hey. Listen. I’m kind of in a pinch, okay? I need like… a little favor. But its a fun favor! I need you to get your girl some info. I need the word on the street, honey. I need the tea piping hot- I need you to go talk to your friends, enemies, frenemies, butt buddies, cousins, and have them tell you about anyone they know. I need straight facts and good gossip on everyone here. And then get back to me. Kisses. And this isn’t something for nothing. If you bring me some good goss, you’ll get some good info in turn about your whole situation. Cause that’s what you’re missing most besides home, right? Context.” ⏵ spill the tea ⏴ Tatianna having now tasked everyone (new and old) with finding out more about their fellow inhabitants—if not for their sake, for her curiosity—and in exchange she will give them valuable information that may aid them with acclimating here, or something far more valuable depending on how hot the goss is! However, she will not just hand out her secrets so easily, and so she will need one piece of gossip about each inhabitant. So she expects everyone to get mingling and talking, she isn't a charity here! To assist in this, the companion bots have set up cozy little wicker daybeds around the main hub of the city. All of which are suspiciously cozy and warm once you have sat down on them, but especially so with the accompanying aroma of the tea wafting from the kettle which rests on the center table, accompanied by sweetmeats. The tea itself also stays warm despite the cool autumn air, and so long as you stay within the daybeds, the biting chill won't reach you either. However, the tea is not only perpetually the right temperature, but it seems to have a way of loosening one's tongue. Especially the more one imbibes it. Did you mean to share that secret that might not have been yours to begin with? Or that personal detail about your best friend that wasn't meant to be known by anyone but who they themselves have told? Probably not, but the cat is out of the bag now, isn't it? Well, hopefully word won't get around...after all, it isn't likely who you are talking is going to tell everyone else, right? Right? Adding to the oddity of it all, the tea one drinks might not be the same tea that their companion is drinking, despite it pouring from the same kettle. What might be one person's earl grey, is another's pumpkin spice chai. Whatever it may be that pours out, it certainly seems to be to one's liking, or its closest approximation. There's probably some deeper meaning in that, some sort of symbolism one might surmise from the nature of sharing gossip and it being tainted by personal bias, but who cares about navel gazing about such a thing? After all, this is meant to be an enjoyable endeavor! Getting to know your fellow inhabitant should feel as comfortable as catching up with an old friend. What better way than to do it by sharing tea you both will enjoy? ☕ ⏵ close knit ⏴ As the tail end of November draws nearer, people will have already begun to see the first flakes of snow. It grows colder, and while there isn't quite a blizzard or a snow storm happening, the snow does not seem to let up with its descent. It doesn't quite get so cold that it is untenable, of course, but it would be advisable to bundle up! In fact, the companion bots seem to be on the case with assisting in just that! Around the city people will find groups of companion bots busily knitting sweaters, scarves, gloves, hats, and so forth. In fact, the moment they see someone they clock as not quite bundled enough, they will insist on supplying them with whatever they deem as being without. Are you already wearing a scarf? Well, clearly you need two of them! How about the gloves? Couldn't hurt to have several pairs! However, that isn't all that's available to people, after all there are cafes out and about where one might get a hot beverage to help fight off the cold, but for those less inclined for such establishments, the companion bots are here to serve! There is at least one companion bot per knitting group that seems to have hot cocoa on hand. If they see someone who is looking particularly cold (almost everyone is, the companion bots aren't particularly keen on the signs of successful temperature regulation), they will have a paper cup of hot cocoa imposed upon them that has their name on the side. Or, sort of. It is at least a close approximation of their name, or maybe it is an alternate spelling? Really, who can blame the bots for getting confused, there are so many of you! ⏵ snow more games ⏴ The snow is here to stay, but that doesn't mean that it has to be a bad thing! With everyone well supplied in their winter garb, the companion bots have set up spots for fun activities! Perhaps the inhabitants would enjoy a fun snowball fight, or some sledding? Some of the waters have frozen over, so ice skating is always a possibility too. Though one might want to be careful if they are to venture past what the companion bots have marked as safe. Some of the companion bots are trying their best at making a snowman, but all their efforts seem to come out rather...square. They're trying their best, but maybe they can learn by following the inhabitant's examples. There are others that will offer gold star stickers to those who seem to dominate in the snowball fights, but unfortunately the stickers don't stick too well with all the snow. Well, they tried! People will still find bots out and about with nice warm beverages available to fight off the cold, too. That service will continue to be available for the foreseeable future. Similarly, if someone comes out who is a little too under-dressed for the weather, the bots might have to pick up those knitting needles again, so be sure to put on your winter clothes..! ⏵ NOTES ⏴ To report information to Tatianna, do so here! She will only give each person their rewarded information once she has a bit of information on each character in the game. Each bit of gossip does not require a thread to count though it should be IC knowledge gained through IC means. Try to check what gossip has been given to her already, because doubling up will not yield results! Good luck! For all questions relating to this log, please refer to the mod queries comment. All other questions can be directed to the FAQ. ⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Comments

[odinpusrex]

You do not think the world deserving of such a fate.

[It isn't a question, it is a statement. An observation. Cold as everything else he's said or done in these moments between them. It is an opinion not only held by Castiel, but so too Barnabas. It is why he serves. Why he has given all that he has, so that the world might yet survive. That mankind itself may preserve, even for all their wickedness.

It is not on God to forgive, but rather on his flawed creations to be forgiven. To see atonement, to beg for salvation through utter submission. Only then and then alone might they be saved, anything less will not serve.]

[messenger]

No.

I don't.

[ there's a weight to the words, deliberate in their spacing and pronunciation. it's a challenge, perhaps. like he expects barnabas will contest this. castiel is the only angel who rebelled, after all, and he's still left to pause over his own reasons. he's always held a regard for humanity. they're his father's creations. but it's a regard that he recognizes now was not held by the majority of his peers. most importantly, his superiors, who looked down their noses at him for his faith. uriel's bitterness, zachariah's venom, michael's apathy. no mercy in them.

god himself is as blank as barnabas. a black hole in his mind, consuming, hungry, unfillable. if only, he thinks. if only he would have answered his call for help. if only he would have bestowed upon him his light and infinite grace.

why not? why not? there's no answer that could give him peace. ]

[odinpusrex]

What care you for them? They are nothing to one such as you.

[Mankind, the world... If he is a servant of God, a being not of mankind, then what stake does he truly have in this for them? That he would defy the will of the Lord and thus find himself abandoned... What did he do to deserve it? The Lord is justice, His will divine. Is this angel like Cidolfus? Acting in rebellion to the divine weave of fate, spun by God's own hand?

Barnabas acts not in defiance to save the world, but within compliance of the Lord. He was given his charge, and should he fail then, mankind will see its end, and none shall see the gates of paradise...and that will be the Almighty's indisputable will.

One cannot blame God for those that choose to abandon Him for their own glutinous desires. For their wicked whims and selfish acts. That He would look upon them with disgust is understandable, it is Just. And yet...Barnabas does not see mankind in need of desolation, no...they simply need to be lead back upon the path of righteousness, their sanctity restored, their wills forfeit.]

[messenger]

They're God's creations. How could they mean nothing to me? You speak blasphemy.

[ uriel's vicious words still ring in his ears. he's... aware his opinion isn't popular among the host. it stings like a slap, but he's beyond stinging. he's been hunted by his own kind, killed and been killed by his own kind, and all of it for the humans in his charge. he certainly can't renege now, nor can he denounce his loyalty. wouldn't want to, anyway. even if this particular being thinks it's shameful.

castiel sits up straighter. ]

[odinpusrex]

Do I?

[Barnabas watches Castiel carefully, uncertain what he might do should this conversation provoke him further. If it were to come to blows, Barnabas is not concerned, but it is something to properly anticipate all the same. He isn't seeking a fight, not necessarily, but that he is faced with a being forsaken by God, who seems to know of him in a similar capacity to Barnabas...well, the words come forth like water from a waterfall.]

Did the Lord charge you thus? The blasphemy spoken is only that which contrasts the will of God - that you are forsaken, cast out of His light, speaks much of who between us is the blasphemer.

[Mankind is indeed the Almighty's creations, but should he find them disposable, then that is that. Those like Barnabas and Castiel are not meant to question orders, they are to administer them. They are not meant to grow attached to the insignificant lives of man, they are but drops of water in the ocean, meaningful in their collective form and function, but otherwise inconsequential in the singular.

Or, that is what Barnabas knows he should believe.]

[messenger]

He didn't. It's the angels who've cast me out. My superiors.

God has forsaken us. He's washed His hands of it.

[ it's up to them what to do from hereon. all things considered, castiel thinks he could have adjusted better to outright condemnation than this cold-shouldered indifference. god simply doesn't care. about them, about the world. about the end. it leaves just enough up to the imagination to drive him mad with his wondering. is their father bored with them? are they no longer entertaining enough? is he disappointed in what they've done, or what they haven't done? is this a test of their loyalty to each other, of their faith in him? what choice is the right choice? should he have pressed dean to let michael take him? should he have convinced him that paradise on earth, the end of all things, was the only way?

did he ever love them at all?

but it's too late, now.

it's too late for a lot of things.

but his anger seems to flag, then, as a staggering sadness overcomes him. the enormity of the feeling, as it often does, stuns him. ]

... He hasn't been in Heaven for a long time.

[odinpusrex]

[Now that...is curious.

Certainly there are those who rank above the others, as the Dominants are above the Bearers, and they above the humans. However, even within the Dominants themselves are those of hierarchy, those closer to the will of God, those that reign supreme in power and execution of His will. So, Castiel here has faced the judgment of his superiors and has been found wanting, yet there is no word from God himself, it would seem.

He has little but his absence to go off of? He has decided God's will in lieu of any command spoken.

Barnabas continues to be reminded of Cidolfus, and something within him twinges, but the sensation is stifled and smothered a moment later. Erased, as if it never existed in the first place.]

Your lack of faith is telling.

[God does not answer because one wishes it so, He answers when he chooses.]

If God has not told you that He has forsaken the world, then why is this the conclusion?

[Barnabas watched as the world was eaten away by corruption, as mankind in its insatiable greed destroyed not only themselves, but the very world that sustained all life. All for their own contentment, all for their own comfort in their pathetic, meaningless and ephemeral lives of diminishing opulence. Yet he did not turn his eyes from the heavens, he did not turn his heart from the Lord that would bring the world back from the brink.

He who promised the faithful paradise ever lasting.

His absence tested Barnabas' faith, and he has thus proven it time and again regardless of the personal cost, but it would seem Castiel does not have the same resolve, nor discipline.]

[messenger]

[ castiel's nostrils flare, and he jerks to his feet, taking a jagged step toward barnabas. he makes no move to reach for a weapon, but who's to say he needs one? he doesn't appear to be attempting to assault the other man, however. it's obvious enough his sadness has been drowned. whited out by a surge of fury so acrid it makes his stomach and esophagus burn with bile and his chest heave with each sharp, angry intake of breath. his knuckles are bone-white in his fists, and something trembles all through him, only to escape in the hiss of his voice. ]

You assume.

[ another breath, and he presses on, a roughness abrading his voice, caused by a thickness in his throat. ]

But that is exactly what happened. I knew my Father was still with us, without a single sight of him, without ever hearing the sound of his voice, even when they told me "God is dead". I had faith— [ his face twists, his lips snagged in a snarl that lines his face like an animal's. the wildness in his blown-wide eyes lends to the effect. ] —for all the past five millennia. And then I found Him.

Do you know what He imparted to me, in all His infinite wisdom? "Back off", [ castiel spits, ] "It's not my problem."

So don't tell me who lacked faith. Even the archangels decried Him, His favored sons. But I loved Him above all. I believed in Him. And He—

[ failed me. castiel jerks back, tearing himself out of baranabas' space, aware that he's allowed himself to lose control. the anger sings in him, pure as anything. what should he do with it? he wished he had an answer. there's no balm for this hurt. except to drink. ]

cw: suicide implication

[odinpusrex]

[The display of emotion is...well, understandable for one who should feel emotion. However, one who has devoted himself thus to the Lord should do away with such fragile and contemptible things. As Barnabas has, as all should. However, he is caught in his thoughts as he regards Castiel, as he considers what he says, of what he's been told, and he reflects back on the piteous state he was in when he prayed to God that he might lead them back upon the path of righteousness.

Had he been denied, had God turned him away, had his mournful pleas for something—anything—fallen to nothing but silence or scornful rejection...

Well, he would not be standing here. That he well knows.

There is something in those dark steel eyes of his—no warmth, no comfort, but perhaps something closer to pity, should one care to find it among the abyss of apathy besides. While Barnabas has not lived the length in which Castiel has, he knows this instance of himself is but a moment in the grand scheme of what has been required of the role of Odin.

That Castiel would hold out faith while the others turned on God...that is not unlike himself. Unlike his people, those who remained faithful. while the others turned on God. Lost faith in him. Though, unlike Castiel, the Lord did not forsake Barnabas. Allowing him a chance to save mankind and the world.]

Is He unworthy of your love, of your loyalty, if He does not serve your desires?

[This is not just a question aimed at Castiel, but so too Barnabas himself, not that it is obvious.]

[messenger]

[ castiel meets those eyes, but who's to say what he sees in them? he recognizes something there, but he doubtlessly picks out the familiarities. one tends to notice what they're familiar with. and in castiel's case, it's the cold burn of righteousness, the glassy reflection of apathy. he sees in barnabas what he sees in his superiors, his siblings, and even himself.

it saps something in him, his anger simmering low and slipping beneath the skin. ]

My desires? [ there's a hollow sound to castiel's voice. he snorts, suddenly more dismissive than anything. ] I want to go home, to Heaven. That's my desire.

But I never will. This conversation is pointless.

[ it changes absolutely nothing. he is what he is. an angel who's fallen. he'll be judged on that or nought at all. and while he may struggle over the question of whether rebellion was worth saving humanity when paradise was just on the other side, he knows god's non-interference is wrong. it was his plan. he should be the one to see it through. and if it's all a test, he's simply a sick and cruel god. any condemnation of humanity must fall to him first, the being who bestowed such gifts upon them — from experience.

castiel turns away from barnabas and sits back at the daybed, pulling his tea toward himself. still exactly the same temperature. the next words seem to slip from his mouth without his permission, the small soft part in the bow of his lips allowing them to escape soft as his breath. ]

Who says I don't love Him?

[odinpusrex]

[They are a perfect contrast, for all Castiel's display of emotion, his frustration, his anger, the listlessness for home...Barnabas is ever a statue of stoicism. Sculpted by his Lord to present himself without the unsightliness of emotion and desire, and for all he is the hollow shell of the man he once was, there still exists pieces of him within the dark mist that chokes out his humanity.

Yet it is obscured, hidden behind the stony resolve of an unfeeling face, of dark eyes lacking in the luster of life. Like cold steel, set in its shape and purpose, the flame of ambition long behind it. All that is left is a deadly blade with but one deadly purpose...

He is the sword of God, as he was ever meant to be.]

Love is not always enough. Loyalty—that is what truly matters. Are you loyal?

[If nothing else, Barnabas is loyal to God. For all he might have endured, for all this painful life might have given to him, his loyalty has remained. Even should he fail in his charge, it will not be for lack of loyalty. This he is certain of.

But what of Castiel? His discontent with the Lord speaks of pettiness that revivals that of humans. Of the selfishness of man, who ever looks inward, who ever wants more. They are never grateful for what He has provided, when He owes them nothing at all.]

[messenger]

[ castiel recalls his millennia of service to himself and wonders. stars have been born and died in his time of service to the lord. he's obeyed every order.

he watches barnabas from his peripheral, his gaze a slice of bitterness reflecting the cold light of the day, turning the blue of his eyes dark as ichor. in all honestly, he agrees with the statement. loyalty has always held more weight. like a bludgeon, or a cudgel. it goes without question. for all they praise their father the lord almighty, love is not what matters. love is not useful or efficient. love will not win you a war.

so why are they here?

what's the point, if everything ends? but — he knows the answer. paradise was also meant to be for them, at least as the archangels envisioned it, according to what raphael said to him. it would mean an end to war. and, too, an end to their purpose. castiel doesn't know what he thinks of it.

he knows what he thinks of the cost. ]

I'm loyal to my friends.

[ spat out, again. it's not something he'd have otherwise admitted. dazai was very clear to him about how important it is to be discretionary, and castiel had taken that to heart. but the tea has loosened his tongue, and whatever sway echo has over him here, he's unable to fight it. ]

And what would you do if your Father told you the world should die?

[odinpusrex]

[The question should be simple. The answer obvious. Yet it is anything but. Well does he know how he should answer, what the appropriate response should be, yet if he were to be honest, truly and fully so...the answer he would give might prove quite different indeed.

Yet his heart has long since been calmed, and what fragile emotions that burden mankind have been gutted from him. Had the Lord told him there was no hope, that mankind and the world was doomed to die in the ashes of the war they created...he likely would have broken. Would he serve the Lord with all hope for life extinguished? With nothing but despair to consume him so utterly?

No, probably not. Though Barnabas does not entertain that reality, can hardly place himself within it with only the echos of his feelings being what remains within the cavern of his heart.

When he speaks it is in the same quiet and placid tone as always, holding his comfortable stance as he has this whole time. Like the surface of a lake on a windless day, he is unchanged.]

I would serve His will unto the end. He has his plan, one but needs faith. From the ashes will life be born anew, as is His wont. It is not our place to know what He does not will us to.

[Fate, ever is he content to be its slave. For what other choice does anyone truly have? None, by his wager.]

[messenger]

[ he really does sound like them, doesn't he? the angels. the archangels. of course, he can't really judge barnabas by their standards. his higher ups knew that god was gone, and that they'd been taking orders from michael and raphael for the last fifty-thousand years or so. castiel doesn't think that god is responsible for the apocalypse. what would have been the point in asking him for help if he did?

he wonders what barnabas would do, in his position.

but he doesn't ask. there wouldn't be any way to make him understand. for a long time, he stares at barnabas. his expression closed off and unreadable. a little too direct, even animal, but his posture easy. he seems to have made peace with the things that have been said to him. or perhaps he's tapped into that bottomless well of angelic dispassion — as hot as he runs, he cools quickly, like any efficient machine. ]

Your faith is commendable.

[odinpusrex]

As is your conviction.

[The shift is obvious to Barnabas, for all that fire and fury Castiel held prior, he is cool as ash now. Barely a cinder, but he is not fool enough to believe that he is unlikely to be ignited once more. Words have a profound effect, but so too can silence, and so it is but a matter of what might be the fuel that brings that fire back to life.

Barnabas has known the pointlessness of struggling against that which is indomitable and inescapable. However, he has also known the glory and the joy of conquoring the insurmountable, of bringing the powerful and unjust to their knees. The security of submission, the thrill of competition, the blood price of joy... It is a dangerous thing, joy. Like a drug which would ruin a man's very soul. As the last Child of Dzemekys--of his people, he will act ever in accordance with the Lord. With what his people's hopes and beliefs shaped in him, how his mother molded him, just as God had with all of mankind...

His will is the Lord's.]

Yet, it will lead you astray. If we were meant to rewrite the will of the Almighty, then we would be able to do just that. Our futile efforts ever prove themselves thus for a reason.

[messenger]

[ all things are ultimately futile. in the far future, the universe will undergo heat death, and life will cease to be. castiel doesn't know what the contingency plan is. if god will simply reset and start over, though there's a tidiness to the idea that in his eyes gives it plausibility. or if that's what's happening here, now, with echo and these children's games. like this: this facsimile of honesty.

there's a kindling of something in him, a fire waiting yet to catch a spark. not to spit and his in anger, but to guide out of darkness. to make change. to place a hand over the wound and heal the heaven he knows now is corrupt. but it isn't yet a fully formed thought, just a tickle in the basal ganglia, waiting patiently to ignite and burn up the castiel's future along with it. besides, barnabas isn't an angel. no matter how much he may appear, on a glance, similar. there are some very basic differences between their species. their habitat, for example. ]

Are you trying to sway me, or establish superiority?

[odinpusrex]

I care not for meaningless bids to satisfy the ego. I speak only in admonition of your course. For it will avail naught but suffering.

[They have not spoken long, but he can get a fair sense about people--about other beings. Castiel means well, he cares deeply, just as Cidolfus, just as Mythos does, just as Barnabas once had. These feelings, however, lead one to temptation, lead one down the path of arrogance and pride, away from the dark truth that stands before them all. If they could but accept it, if they could but see what is right before them...if they could but take the step necessary.

Running away will not stop it from catching them, because before long, you will have nowhere else to go.]

Though perhaps you pride yourself upon being unreasonable.

[messenger]

Pride is a sin.

[ and suffering inevitable. it comes in more forms than the human mind is capable of comprehending. emotion isn't necessary. spiritual death is, in his opinion, the worst suffering of all. perhaps in the oncoming years he'll change his opinion, as he learns to live on the human scale. but he's seen the change god's absence has wrought in heaven. the way their marble statue countenance crumbles beneath the weight of his absence, the void in where once was his infinite warmth and light. heaven is sick and dribbling all over itself. just the right amount of pressure applied to the right place — the promised apocalypse — and things are rupturing. uriel, his brother, who he served with for more than a millennia, killed half castiel's garrison. a lucifer sympathizer.

and then anna, their erstwhile commander, stabbed him through the throat.

he's still staring. ]

What are you?

[odinpusrex]

[Barnabas merely stares at Castiel when he comments about pride. It is true, and Barnabas agrees, but he finds no need to affirm such. The obvious does not need to be spoken. However, as Castiel then pivots it back to his original question, the one that Barnabas deflected to start, he cannot help but smirk.

It is slight, but it is there. The first real show of any emotion or expression beyond that which would otherwise be his utter lack of affect.]

I am a Dominant.

[The matter-of-fact way he says it makes it clear that such is mundane to him, and that perhaps Castiel should likewise know what that means, as Castiel clearly assumed he would know what an angel is. Though, Barnabas has dealt with enough people by now to know that most do not know what it is, and so...after a brief pause, he continues:]

We are beings born among mankind with the innate gift to wield power beyond reckoning. His chosen.

[messenger]

[ born among mankind. that's the part that catches his attention. and he sits up straighter, feeling both a little superior and genuinely interested in what this man has to say about his situation. ]

You were born human. Or born to a human?

[ it's an important distinction. ]

[odinpusrex]

[Barnabas takes note of Castiel's body language, of how he almost seemingly preens in how he straightens. Perhaps he is merely curious, yet he would not be surprised that a being of power would like to measure himself against another.]

Born to a human. [Born to his human mother...] We Dominants are not human.

[The way he speaks it is with such certainty, with such finality, there is a shift in his otherwise unchanging tone that emphasizes the fact there is no room for argument on such a matter.]

Though, some hold fast to the fiction that we are, and they suffer for their folly.

[messenger]

How?

[ that's an interesting assertion to make, on both counts. he leans forward, eyes trained on barnabas. tracking him up and down, feeling the sensation of sucking blackness that fills his second awareness. it's a good distraction from his own feelings of inadequacy. ]

[odinpusrex]

[Barnabas studies Castiel for a moment. Any information he gives could be potentially weaponized against him or other Dominants, and yet...like Sandalphon, there is a level of ease in which he finds himself able to speak. Not quite trust, but a level of understanding and...recognition that he does not mind sharing some information.

Besides, this is not Valisthea, and Castiel is not human.

However, seeing as Castiel did not specify what he was asking about, Barnabas decides the focus:]

Can a wolf flourish under the guise of a sheep? No. Its very being atrophies as it attempts to be that which it is not. Remove its fangs, blunt its claws, but it no more has hooves nor can sustain itself upon flora than before. It is ever what it always has been from the first.

To deny what we are is to invite naught but destruction and misery.

[messenger]

Does the denial of others affect you so deeply? If you're that powerful, why does it make any difference at all?

[ because the way barnabas is talking reminds him once again of the superiority of angels. they couldn't be denied. nothing would change what they are. and so uriel found glee in slaughtering them by the thousands, turning them to stone or salt and watching them crumble in pieces to the earth. for their so-called slights. for their lack of hospitality. but the power differential was so amazing — it was like stepping on an ant for not paying its dues. as though it understood.

nothing more than cruelty for its own sake. ]

[odinpusrex]

I do not suffer so.

[It is only barely the truth, but he cannot suffer that which he cannot feel.]

As I explained, it is those that believe themselves capable of living among the sheep that suffer, and in time, so too does the herd. To deny oneself that which they are only delays the inevitable and courts suffering besides.

[While Barnabas has a low view of humans, of mankind as a whole. While he does not blink as he spills their blood, and crushes them by the thousands—be it through his armies or by his hand alone—he does not take joy in the slaughter. He does not take joy in...most things. He merely does what is expected of him, regardless how horrendous the task.

He does what is necessary so that all might survive. Culling portions of the flock so that the rest can survive, that is merely part of the role and responsibility of the shepherd.]

Denial of the truth makes monsters of us all.

[So says the biggest denier of them all.]