December Library Catch-All [ OPEN ]

[aimsforknees]

WHO: John, Harold, and anyone who might find themselves at the Library
WHEN: December
WHERE: The Library!
WHAT: The Library is here and open to all! Come borrow books, find a comfy chair to relax in, or snoop around.
NOTES\WARNINGS: Will be added as they come up

The Library is a five-story neoclassical building of terra cotta, brick, and stone. And the inside is, in fact, a library! And rather clean and organized too. There's no dust, no muddy footprints (apart from your own), and all the shelves are organized by Dewey Decimal, subject, and author. All literature is something you might find in a 2010 New York City library: various forms of fiction, children's and teens' sections, history, science, cooking, gardening, the list goes on. There's even small sections of audiobooks on compact disks and of DVDs ranging from old classics to history shows. The first floor has a reading/study room, a comfortable space with deep armchairs and tables with chairs; the fifth floor has some smaller tables clustered under a skylight. Part of the second floor is abruptly closed off by a door with a biometric scanner that denies entry to anyone who isn't John Reese or Harold Finch; the walls surrounding this section are soundproofed, so even a keen listener won't hear anything from inside. Otherwise, it's a perfectly normal library!

Comments

[messenger]

He gave his only begotten son for you, not us.

[ but he wants to be loved. well, who doesn't want their father to love them?

he glances up again. there's weariness in his eyes, but no blame. ]

I don't hold it against you.

[ unlike some of the others. ]

[fortitudosalutis]

[ Carver narrows his eyes. Then he takes a risk, shifting the equation ever so slightly, and steps closer. Usually, he doesn't bother. Usually, he goads the enemy into doing that for him. It gets them off balance, so he can take advantage. It's different here, though.

There's something curious about this one. He wants a closer look. ]

What's that make you, then?

[messenger]

An angel.

[ again, he goes back to his reading. he doesn't need to look up to track carver's movement when he can feel it in the shift of the air around him and the sound of his shoes crunching the carpet.

besides. he has nothing to fear. ]

[fortitudosalutis]

[ An angel, he says, like he's explaining the fact of gravity or how light refracts. Something that simply is. Part of Carver wants to sneer, to show his teeth and laugh, to cut this moment into a familiar shape, but he doesn't. He's seen God in strange things before, in blood and bone fragments, in the dead laid out in symbols on the ground like tarot after the fires. God speaks, sometimes even in words. And this is a strange place.

Maybe there are angels here, or in another place, and they've come here to collide.

Carver moves almost silently, assessing. He doesn't draw his knife but he considers the distance between them and the force he'd need to punch it through this man's skull. An angel, he calls himself. Maybe he's a liar.

Maybe he's not, though. ]

Is this real?

[ It's asked almost idly. Carver's wondered, is the thing. ]

[messenger]

[ there's nothing carver could do with a blade that could hurt castiel. dean stuck a knife in his heart on the day they met, and castiel gave him a smile in return. he might do the same for carver, if he were so bold. well, a knife through his skull might be be too awkward for a smile. that is, assuming the blade doesn't chip on the bone. last time dean tried to strike his face, he bruised his knuckles instead of making his point. it's really a matter of what castiel himself decides.

he can be a fallow field for a blade to bury itself, or he can be steel. either way, he'll be left standing. ]

As real as you or I.

[fortitudosalutis]

Mhmm. I wonder about that sometimes.

[ He has bad dreams. Sometimes, maybe, he sees ghosts in his corners. ]

But you're stuck here same as the rest of us, huh?

[messenger]

[ there's a reason why he didn't just say yes.

a lot of things are up for interpretation. ]

Yes.

[fortitudosalutis]

Why is that, you think?

[ A genuine question. ]

God want you here?

[messenger]

We're not omniscient.

[ how could he possibly know? ]

Maybe He just doesn't care.

[fortitudosalutis]

I doubt that. You're being tested.

[ This, at least, is familiar. Carver stills, watching the other man close. He doesn't reach for his knife, but he could. He might later. How does one kill an angel? ]

Maybe we all are.

[messenger]

Would it help you to think that?

[ sure they are. by echo. by whoever echo answers to. he's been looking for answers all over, because he felt the siren call to be useful. but it's beginning to feel stupid and futile. a matryoshka of tests within tests and all for what? his god, his father, has decided to sit back and watch the fireworks show.

what if this is sport?

what if it doesn't mean anything? ]

[fortitudosalutis]

It's not about me. God always tests us.

[ To see if they're worthy. To see if they'll survive, if their endurance will stand. He's not certain what this one is meant for, only that there must be one. There always is. ]

Only question is whether you're still worthy.

[messenger]

[ that's what you tell yourselves, he thinks, but that isn't what he says. it would be unfair to divest this man of his faith.

he turns another page. ]

It is about you, though. He gave you free will so that you might choose.

[fortitudosalutis]

These things happen.

[ That's a given. Some of it can't be controlled. ]

Only thing we've got is how we react. That's the test.

[messenger]

[ only angels don't have free will, so what would be the point of testing them? himself excluded, naturally, which might prove the point. but he has to wonder how much difference it could make. ]

Of course.

[ things have been happening for a very long time, and they'll continue to happen long after they're gone. ]

[fortitudosalutis]

You're an odd motherfucker, aren't you?

[ Maybe he really is an angel. Wouldn't that be something? Distantly, Carver wonders how he would've reacted to this back home. In the usual ways, he imagines. It would depend on what the commander wanted, and here there's no commander at all. No new orders. Only an understanding of the mission that came before, and the duty that still stands to him. ]

[messenger]

I don't make a habit of engaging in intercourse with mothers, but if you're calling me queer, then I've heard it before.

[ he closes the king james bible and slips it back onto the shelf. ]

I'd say that's a matter of perspective. If I seem strange, it's because you've never talked to an angel before.

[fortitudosalutis]

[ Literal too, seems like. Carver doesn’t move any closer, doesn’t draw a blade. He just watches, wondering how this is all going to play out. If they’re pretending at civilized or just circling each other before the inevitable. It’s hard to know these days. ]

I’ve seen God in the corners, in the blood. Never an angel, though.

[messenger]

He is in all things.

[ even if he's a bastard and a son of a bitch besides. that just isn't up for debate.

castiel tips his head forward. ]

We weren't made to be witnessed, but to bear witness. We're agents of war and fate — and I'm sure you've seen plenty of both.

[ just a feeling he gets. ]

[fortitudosalutis]

That He is, [ Carver agrees. It follows him as a comfort and a warning both. God is not gentle. ] I have. Can’t say where this place falls just yet, but give it time.

[messenger]

What do you think of Etraya?

[ he's curious. humor him.

he moves past carver toward another book that catches his eye, brushing close enough to be uncomfortable for anyone who has any sense of personal space. ]

[fortitudosalutis]

It’s a test.

[ Just like this is. Carver doesn’t stiffen or flinch, but the other man—the angel—steps too close and then there’s a blade in Carver’s hand. He doesn’t use it but he has it, just in case. This is how things go. ]

I don’t mean to fail.

[messenger]

[ he supposes he's already said that, so perhaps there's no need to ask. it is a test. he can't argue. but maybe it isn't the kind of test this man thinks.

but the knife in his hand has his attention now. his back was to carver while he was perusing, but he turns so that he's facing him at an angle before he addresses him again. ]

If you're going to stab me, you might as well get it over with.

[ it seems like he's wanted to since the moment they met. ]

[fortitudosalutis]

Mhmm. Is it that kind of moment?

[ It might be. Things get fuzzy sometimes. ]

[messenger]

You've been thinking about it.

[ he doesn't need to be able to read minds to know that. ]