caveofsapphires | smaller patch of fading sky [ open ]

smaller patch of fading sky [ open ]

WHO: EVERYONE. All PCs thus far will be in this log, through active tagging or implication.
WHAT: THRILLS. SPILLS. Hiking trip toward the Diamond City.
WHERE: The Overworld.
WHEN: Forward-dated to May 1st (Tuesday) through May 7th (Monday).
WARNINGS: May contain violence or other mentions of physical harm. This is not summer camp.
NOTES: More information can be found on the OOC post here. Please read it!

Gathered in the morning haze, Sleepers were brought to the mouth of the Cave with plenty of supplies and equipment. Compasses that would point them toward the City. Backpacks full of clothes and food, medical kits, tents and even weapons. Stun rifles and knives — to fight off any unwanted company, they said. ("Watch out for their bite," Ryan had commented. "Those fuckers are downright feral.") The straight and narrow path would get them there in six days if they kept a good clip. They were sent off just like that. Refusals to leave were met with a wall of guard force officers blocking the entrance back into the cave city. No way to go but forward, unless someone was particularly stalwart about remaining.

From the exterminator's station near the mouth, leaving the Cave was as simple as a short hike upward into the fresh air of the Overworld. Dust and an uncomfortable sort of heat pervaded the atmosphere, light winds stirring up the sand and teasing the meager bits of vegetation that had grown. No matter what direction you looked... it was all wasteland, cracked ground and desolate emptiness. Jutting up from scarred ground were boulders and small spires made entirely of glass and patches of stone; instead of reflecting the harsh sunlight, they seemed to absorb it and only add to the muted loneliness of the atmosphere. As far as the eye could see, there was no life to be found.

With no other option, the Sleepers eventually made their way onward.

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"They should learn to have detachable limbs." The quiet response came a little quicker this time, though the cadence itself was still slow, and it was threaded with amusement. Even though the sound wasn't helpful, the banter was calming. It was ...

It had been so long since Gabriel had bantered with a brother. At the Cave, they'd all had to be so watchful, even if Gabriel wasn't as watchful as he could have been. But here, now, hearing Balthazar's words and listening to his tone instead? For the first time in such a long time, even as a human, even with his head pounding and body aching and the back of his neck stinging with impending sunburn, Gabriel felt some measure of home.

The twist became a smile, a genuine one, even as small as it was.

"Tell me about it. It'd all fall on you to keep up appearances and we'd all be screwed." Most likely because Balthazar just wouldn't even bother, not that Gabriel could blame him. The archangel had gotten tired of enforced responsibility because everyone else refused to handle it.

"Well, now I'm just insulted. We both know I can keep better appearances than you ever could." It was banter, nothing more. He was just letting words fall out of his mouth at this point, keeping his brother engaged to make him focus on something other than his body's weakness. Balthazar knew a bit about keeping pain at bay by way of distraction.

A part of him wanted to be there to help, though, in case Gabriel needed something to lean on. In any other circumstance, Balthazar would've have made sure the archangel was alive and leave at that. It was different now, so very different. Besides, if Gabriel was gaining some power back, it would only be beneficial to assure he finished the trip to the City safely.

"Then question is--would you?" Gabriel returned as impishly as he could manage. It was hard to get inflections across when he couldn't bear to raise his voice above a certain level, but somehow the archangel managed. "You're not exactly responsible, bro." To put it lightly. Balthazar was probably among the least responsible of the angels. There was something to envy about that, really.

Gingerly the archangel lifted his head off his knees, keeping the cloth pressed to his face. It had dried again, was growing warm, and the ache in his head had dulled somewhat. He peeled one corner away experimentally, shading his face from the sun. It was bright, it made his temples throb and eyes water in complaint, but he actually managed to achieve some measure of squinted opening.

Briefly. Then he hissed and covered up again, groping for his water container to dampen the cloth again. "Anyone figured out how to get across yet?"

"Ugh, responsibility," he quipped, the word dripping in dramatics. It was true that Balthazar was the last to be responsible for anything, even going so far as to just be outright lazy. He preferred it that way, though. He was far more complicated than his blasé mask, but why put all your cards on the table at once? It made it easier to surprise when everybody thought you nothing more than a simple lay-about. "That's for a different day. For now, let's worry about if you'll be able to make it the rest of the way, because I seriously doubt you're ready to go even if they were."

Gabriel huffed his amusement as he again lifted his head, this time enough to move the cloth and wet it while keeping his eyes tightly shut and shaded by his knees. "Bro, if the choice is between sitting here for the rest of my probably short life and enduring a little extra pain to get to somewhere I can rest, pretty sure I can say 'I'll be able to make it'."

Even if he wasn't quite certain as to how, yet. His goggles had just become his most prized possession, and even then he wasn't sure how well they'd let him be able to see anything without his head exploding. Though he supposed it didn't matter, as long as there was someone to point him in the right direction. With a sigh he pressed the damp cloth back over his eyes.

"Says the one who can barely open his eyes." The angel knew he was nowhere near Gabriel's strength and had no problem admitting it. Looking at how his brother was reacting to just a spark of his power coming back to him had him worried about his own state. Nothing had really started clicking yet, assuming it was even supposed to, so he guessed he would just have to thank his lucky stars.

"Speaking of, what happened back there... Was that the first of it? Had that happened before now?"

For a moment Gabriel didn't answer, but then he huffed a rueful sigh, resting his head back down and turning it just slightly so his voice wasn't muffled. "Yeah. That day with the giant kitties I got a bit of telekinsis going. During the sandstorm I managed to whip up a couple of blankets. Since then it's been simple constructs. Lost my sunscreen during the sandstorm and I still haven't managed to get that right, but things that are relatively simple to put together I've managed fine. Blankets, rocks, sandcastles, coloured sand. The bridge was the first really big thing I tried, but it's really just a set of giant building blocks. Or it should have been."

"Interesting." The return of his abilities had almost been immediate then. Balthazar supposed that would explain why his brother was in such a sorry state; a classic case of too much at once. This filled the cynical angel with a sudden rush of relief. There was a very good chance that he wouldn't have to worry about being incapacitated if he could just control himself which, honestly, he was good at. When he wanted to be.

He wondered, though, if the return of power would feel natural to him. Would he automatically know it was there or would it sit dormant until he unconsciously used it? Maybe it would feel alien to him now that his body was fully human. "Well, that's what you get for being a show-off."

Edited 2012-05-14 05:21 (UTC)

"What, you think that's showing off?" Gabriel huffed. There was one power he'd left out, one he hadn't been sure he wanted to share, but right at that moment he was filled with the impish and reckless desire to show off properly. Hey, Balthazar had laid a challenge before him, okay.

So, still shading his face from the sun, Gabriel lifted his head and squinted through slitted eyelids at his brother. And after a pause he said bluntly, "You make me friggin' thirsty. Seriously, bro? 'Still waters run deep'? That's the phrase your soul chooses to personify? Sheesh."

Then the light became too much even for that short amount of time and the archangel rested his head down again, rearranging the cloth with a sigh. He could barely see that much, let alone look into Balthazar's eyes to see more, but his point was made. There was showing off--and then there was showing off.

He really shouldn't be surprised, and even then, he should've been able to hide his reaction. Soul-reading was nothing new to him; angels did it to each other and other things all the time. When you technically don't have facial expressions or even a traditional face, it would be kind of impossible to be able to tell what was going on with your siblings without being able to read their Grace. But that was then; this was now and a completely different situation. He felt inexplicably annoyed at the intrusion. There were things Balthazar didn't want his brother to see, so he guessed he was lucky it was only a surface reading.

Still, though, even without resorting to reading into him, from the expression on Balthazar's face even the densest human could tell that he was vaguely disturbed. Hiding something, but then, when was he not? "Yes, well, ah," he groped for the right words to put himself at ease. Unfortunately, there were none. "I would appreciate it if you wouldn't turn your...critical eye on me anymore in the future."

Luckily for Balthazar, Gabriel couldn't see even his expression right now. Though the archangel did snort a little without lifting his head. "Why, Balthazar, if I didn't know any better I'd think you had something to hide."

His tone was ironic. Of course the angel had something to hide. Who didn't? It was just that souls couldn't actually hide them. Grace could, because angels could control it, but souls? Forget it. Especially not from an archangel, even one whose Sight was obscured by the equivalent of static.

Then he sighed a little. "For what it's worth, it doesn't work if I don't look at you. And I can't see details anymore without direct eye-to-eye contact."

He was probably going to regret admitting that, but right at this moment, he felt his owed at least one of his brothers a full explanation. Just in case of ... something.

"Don't we all? I still felt I should ask, though, just to be polite. There's really nothing interesting to read on my metaphysical marquee anyway." He knew that if Gabriel really wanted to pry, he ultimately would and there would be nothing Balthazar could do about it. He felt as if his brother would stick to his word, though. It wasn't as if the archangel would appreciate it if Balthazar went digging through his dirty laundry, so it should go both ways.

Who would want to know about the angel's mopier moments, anyway? No one except a bottle of scotch.

"Can't promise I won't see anything," Gabriel admitted. "Not unless you can shut your soul off. But I'm not about to gossip about it." He snorted. "Let's face it, who would I gossip about it to? Azzy over there would probably shush me before I could get the words out."

No one except a bottle a scotch and an older brother just relearning the ways of being overprotective. But that was the best the archangel could do; unless he and Balthazar just never looked each other in the eyes again, there wasn't anything else. And even then, Gabriel would still see the ripples.

He was sure he hadn't made a good impression on Aziraphale, so the quiet angel might actually appreciate hearing something embarrassing about him. Of course, he never voiced that argument, already deeming this conversation the longest he had sat through with one of his brothers. Not counting Castiel. The topic was going places he really didn't want to go, anyway, best to just drop it altogether. Good thing Balthazar had a thing about non sequiturs.

Balthazar glanced at the troublesome canyon blocking their path to the city. No one had really figured anything out yet, and he doubted they would any time soon. "This whole debacle would have been so much easier if we had been able to keep our wings."

When he wasn't thinking about it, Gabriel mostly didn't notice his wings were gone. It had taken a while, but he'd adjusted to the balance and the smallness and the absence. And then something would remind him and, for a moment, he'd be filled with a sense of loss so sharp it was almost physical.

So he didn't answer for a moment except for a sharp inhale. Then, his voice pitched for a cheerfulness it didn't quite hit: "Well, look on the bright side. If we'd had them we'd have been squished in the Cave like freaking sardines."

"As if we hadn't been living squished inside of a body not ours before we got here." Sometimes he wondered why he couldn't have just stayed dead. This life was never something he would have asked for, nor even taken as an alternative to being murdered. Wish I may, wish I might.

"Anyway... I suppose I'll go help things along and leave you to rest, shall I? That way one of us can be productive."

"At least then we could stretch on our own terms," Gabriel grumbled. "Besides, you get used to having two bodies are a while. Think I might've found not having a vessel just as weird at first."

Gabriel snorted and turned his head, the corner of his mouth flickering. "Sure, why not. You need all the opportunities you can get to make it to the rank of 'somewhat useful'. I'll sit over here and pretend to be worse than I am so you can go have that chance, shall I?"

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smaller patch of fading sky [ open ]

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