The Angel Balthazar (
tryingitall) wrote in
kore_logs2013-03-25 08:01 pm
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Entry tags:
can't seem to find our state of grace
Who: Balthazar and OPEN
What: Exploring and chatting.
When: Day 54
Where: All over the place, but eventually the bar and House 11. Encounter him anywhere you like.
Warnings: Probably none, will update if that changes.
Balthazar's not sure whether to be optimistic about this brave new world or not. There's no question but that certain individuals here are a threat. Raphael and Lucifer? Scary. Whatever's got them all trapped here? Also scary. At the moment, though, the weather is fairly pleasant, there's no looming apocalypse, planned or otherwise, and even the demons here seem to be, if not civil, at least tolerable.
Probably the other shoe will drop before long, but until then he's going to try to enjoy himself.
Hence the search for the bar he hears is around somewhere. He circles through streets, looking over houses, buildings, and...hmm. Rubble. That's a little worrisome. But not too far off he finds what he was looking for, and slips curiously through the doors.
What: Exploring and chatting.
When: Day 54
Where: All over the place, but eventually the bar and House 11. Encounter him anywhere you like.
Warnings: Probably none, will update if that changes.
Balthazar's not sure whether to be optimistic about this brave new world or not. There's no question but that certain individuals here are a threat. Raphael and Lucifer? Scary. Whatever's got them all trapped here? Also scary. At the moment, though, the weather is fairly pleasant, there's no looming apocalypse, planned or otherwise, and even the demons here seem to be, if not civil, at least tolerable.
Probably the other shoe will drop before long, but until then he's going to try to enjoy himself.
Hence the search for the bar he hears is around somewhere. He circles through streets, looking over houses, buildings, and...hmm. Rubble. That's a little worrisome. But not too far off he finds what he was looking for, and slips curiously through the doors.
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He rests his chin in his hand thoughtfully. "I think I'd better contribute somehow. At least for appearances."
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"Oh, yeah." He hadn't forgotten that Balthazar didn't want him to tell anyone he was an angel, but him saying it again certainly brings it to the forefront of his mind. Not can he exactly blame Balthazar for wanting to keep that appearance.
"There is food here? I mean, you don't just..." He waves a hand. He's sure Gabriel miracles sweets out of thin air, but he's not sure about the other angels who pretend to be human.
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Time will tell.
"What? No, I can't do the trick with the loaves and fishes. That was Jesus, not an angel." He smiles wryly. "Loki is different. I couldn't tell you if Raphael or Lucifer are capable, but any of the three of them would require major persuasion before stepping in. Unless people are actually starving to death, I imagine no one will interfere."
Maybe not even if there's serious starvation. "Anyway, it sounds like hunting and fishing is going on. Someone ought to give thought to preservation in case there's a storm season coming."
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But Raphael and Lucifer didn't seem to be making any lengths to hide who, or what, they truly were. Hell, he'd known both of them were here because someone had called them Saints.
"Oh." Well, there went his one out for not starving to death. Great. "Well, at least there is food, you know? For me, at least." Right. Because angels don't eat.
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"There is. Don't look so worried; I'm sure we'll figure something out before anyone truly gets malnourished." That...is Chuck's worried face, right? Not just his default expression?
"I believe you asked me a question earlier. Still want the answer?"
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"Yeah, no. I mean... the people who brought us here wouldn't just bring us here to starve... right?" At least, that's what he's hoping. It would also be a bit awkward because some of the people here don't necessarily have to eat in order to survive.
"Oh, uh, yeah. If you don't mind telling it, that is."
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He turns an uncharacteristically serious expression on Chuck. "I warn you, I don't know the end of it. But...I left Heaven shortly after Cassi did. I kept my head down through most of the Apocalypse. Fought a few demons, nothing special." He shakes his head. "I expected to die before Armageddon, but then...Armageddon didn't happen, and I was still alive."
"Now. Imagine you're an angel. Millions of years old. Watched humanity come into being. Learned from the beginning that there was a Plan, for them, for you, for Creation, and everything you did from then on was to contribute to this end, in some small way. Sometimes you don't like what you have to do for it, but it's the Divine Will, at least according to the archangels, and unless God pops in to announce a change, they're in charge."
He takes a breath. "And then, just as things are building to the End you desperately wanted and feared just as desperately, the rug gets pulled out from under you."
"Heaven fell apart. It was falling apart before I left, but Michael getting locked in with Lucifer, Gabriel dying, everything we were told was constant and immutable being proved wrong...I don't think anyone knew how to handle it. I'm glad I wasn't there to see it firsthand." He takes a gulp of liquor, frowning. This isn't the half of what he was going to tell Chuck, but now he has to pause and extract his emotions from the account. It only gets worse.
This is going to be a cheerful thread. I can feel it.
Chuck doesn't have to imagine being millions of years old, or having watched humanity coming into being because he's already been both of those things. But he does have to imagine what it could possibly be like to live under a Plan. What it must be like, being told what to do every single day, and believing it could happen and then suddenly it doesn't.
That hadn't been what he'd wanted. He hadn't expected the archangels to continue running Heaven in his place. He'd wanted every angel to have free will, and to make their own choices. He wanted them to not follow the Plan, not because he didn't want it to happen, but because they didn't want it to happen.
And so Chuck lets some of that show on his face, because he's never had to live on a plan. He's always been able to do what he wants, when he wants with no one to tell him otherwise.
"Wow, that, uh... that must sucks."
Seems to happen that way a lot!
He trails off, searching for words. "Raphael disagreed. I'm not sure what, exactly, was going on in his head. Except that he was the last archangel, and I'm sure that hurts."
"In any case, he was determined to break Michael and Lucifer back out and finish the Apocalypse where it left off. Castiel decided to oppose him, which is a bit like a kitten deciding to stand up to a Bengal tiger. Obviously, he would be steamrolled if he didn't come up with a plan. And that's where it gets a bit murky for me, because I know now what the plan was, but I'm not sure where he got it from."
It's very rare I get any actually happy threads.
Although, he supposes, he's not terribly surprised. Raphael had always been one to follow the rules to the letter--him and Michael both. He can only assume that, with Michael and Raphael being very similar in many ways, as well as being the only archangels in Heaven after Gabriel left, that the two latched onto each other with everything they had. And if Michael wanted the Apocalypse to happen, so did Raphael.
It seemed his lesson on free will hadn't gone over as well as he had been hoping. Or, if it had, it certainly hadn't stuck the way he had intended.
"The plan?" Because that doesn't sound eerily similar to The Plan or anything. "I though... Castiel said Sam and Dean stopped the Apocalypse. Again."
/patpat
His voice drops lower, as if he hates to speak ill of Cas, even in a quiet setting, with someone who can probably handle the knowledge. "He was working with Crowley, last I heard, and they were preparing to open a gate into Purgatory, to take on the souls resting there."
"Needless to say, the mo...er, the Winchesters disapproved. There was a falling-out. I had been in the dark about Cassi's intentions, but they let me in on them because they needed a new pet angel. I didn't like the idea of my brother blowing himself up. And that's the last I know."
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And he more than delivers. Castiel, working with a demon so that the two of them could open Purgatory to take on the souls of the damned just to defeat one archangel? He knows he can't blame Castiel for wanting, or even needing back up for dealing with Raphael. But Purgatory was not the answer to that. He sealed that door shut for a reason and, believe it or not, he doesn't do something like that for no reason at all. The leviathans and other souls that were contained in Purgatory were not something to be taken likely, and were not the means to an end.
Oh, Castiel. He knows you're smarter than that. What could you have possibly been thinking?
"...Purgatory? Purgatory is real too?" The distress on his face is not a lie. He doesn't need Balthazar, or anyone else, to tell him that nothing good can come from the way this story is going. The end is not going to be a pretty one, he knows that much for sure.
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He leans back again, unhappily. "Which does sort of beg the question of what millions of predatory souls could do to an angel's personality. I'm sure even if he didn't explode, he wouldn't be the same Castiel any more."
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He shakes his head. "I don't--I don't know. But, I mean. He made it, right? He's fine now."
Sure, he doesn't know the details. All he knows is that, sometime between Castiel making this deal with Crowley, that Dean and Castiel end up in Purgatory, Castiel ends up broken, but they make it out of Purgatory, Castiel became unbroken and is pretty much fine, and life, he assumes, goes on.
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"He's clearly alive, and his faculties seem to be intact. I don't like what I've heard secondhand, though. I'm afraid to ask him, myself. When I saw him last..." He breaks off with a shake of his head.
No, that's a wound that's too tender to poke at just yet.
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But then again, there were many things he hadn't expected. That's what made everyone and everything so interesting.
He knows when to drop a subject, and now was clearly that time. Balthazar had told him a lot as it was, and he greatly appreciates that. "I guess, uh... I mean, I thought it would all be over with the Apocalypse. I didn't think..."
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"One way or another, it'll get handled, anyway, assuming any of us ever gets out of here. Castiel's not the kind of angel who runs from his mistakes. If he's fucked up, he'll make it up somehow." And that? That's the sound of faith in a beloved brother. It's not entirely dead, amongst the Host. Not yet.
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"Oh, yeah. If they can stop the Apocalypse, they can do anything, right?" Because stopping the Apocalypse wasn't a small feat. Sam and Dean Winchester, humans, defeated two archangels. And well, that's pretty impressive. After that, anything must seem like child's play.
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"I suppose so. It was a bit of a Pyrrhic victory, though, wasn't it?"
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"It was, yeah." Chuck looks down into his drink. "But, uh. Better than the world ending, you know?"
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Well. Apparently Castiel's scars ran deeper than his brother thought.
"I don't know about that, actually. It's overly philosophical of me, but maybe things should just...end when it's time." He shakes his head. "Or maybe we should always rage against the dying of the light, but that gets exhausting very quickly."
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"Do you.. really think the world should have ended?"
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He shakes his had. "Heaven's been sick for a long time. With one archangel left to lead, and no plan, there's no chance we'll recover. Maybe some will change and live among humans, like Cas and Anna tried to. The rest will go insane and destroy themselves and one another. There's just nothing left to build from, and we weren't made to build to begin with. That's a human thing."
He smiles weakly. "I envy your species sometimes. Our Father gave you so much. Don't tell the others, but I think...it was always meant to end like this for angels. We've outlived our usefulness, and now we'll take ourselves out of the picture, just like we were programmed to."
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But the downside was that he gets to hear things like this. And it saddens him deeply. He hadn't meant to leave the angels so alone. They all had each other, and he'd thought that would have been good enough. But it seems that he was wrong.
"What? No, I don't think--I don't think you're useless." And he really really doesn't.
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He picks a piece of lint off his sleeve and sighs. "I wish you could have met my vessel. He was a painter, and he made such beautiful things. If I thought cutting out my Grace would give me that gift for a moment...but Anna's the only one of us who ever had the balls for that."
Recovering from the moment of melancholy, at least on the surface, he smiles. "Maybe that's why humans are Daddy's favorites, hm? They create, just like He did. I hope you'll keep writing while you're here."
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