Chuck Shurley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
godsprophet) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kore_logs2013-10-16 12:06 am
godsprophet) wrote in kore_logs2013-10-16 12:06 am
Entry tags:
'listen to the warning' the prophet he said
Who: Chuck Shurley and OPEN.
What: There's only one way forward, and this is it.
When: Day 121.
Where: The tunnels.
Notes: No, really, this is wide open. I made very little OOC plans so come at me.
What: There's only one way forward, and this is it.
When: Day 121.
Where: The tunnels.
Notes: No, really, this is wide open. I made very little OOC plans so come at me.
Raphael had come by earlier and said he would actually bodily drag Chuck into the tunnels if he didn't go willingly. But it didn't seem like he had an option either way. Earthquakes kept shifting below his feet -- it seemed to be tearing the entire cape apart. He had no doubt that, if he stayed, he wouldn't be alive to see whatever happened to the little town where they were held captive.
Chuck spends most of the time trying to decide what to take with him. Specifically, his typewriter. Balthazar had gotten it for him, and he'd used it well. It seemed like a shame to leave it behind. But, on the other hand, it wasn't exactly lucrative to go about dragging a typewriter through a series of tunnels who knows how long. He reluctantly leaves it behind.
He enters the tunnels alone and is glad he did. The effect is so instantaneous and so sudden he nearly trips over himself. Because, while he might not use all the omniscient and omnipotent powers he has at his disposal, he's always aware that it's there, hiding underneath his fingertips. But now, in these tunnels, it's gone. Vanished. Disappeared. He's honestly nothing more than the human he pretends to be.
It's an uncomfortable reminder of the amount of power this place -- these scientists -- hold over him, and it's not one he appreciates. He's never felt truly powerless, literally and figuratively, before, and he does not approve of these feelings in himself whatsoever.
But there's no place to go but forward. And so forward into the tunnels he goes.
Chuck spends most of the time trying to decide what to take with him. Specifically, his typewriter. Balthazar had gotten it for him, and he'd used it well. It seemed like a shame to leave it behind. But, on the other hand, it wasn't exactly lucrative to go about dragging a typewriter through a series of tunnels who knows how long. He reluctantly leaves it behind.
He enters the tunnels alone and is glad he did. The effect is so instantaneous and so sudden he nearly trips over himself. Because, while he might not use all the omniscient and omnipotent powers he has at his disposal, he's always aware that it's there, hiding underneath his fingertips. But now, in these tunnels, it's gone. Vanished. Disappeared. He's honestly nothing more than the human he pretends to be.
It's an uncomfortable reminder of the amount of power this place -- these scientists -- hold over him, and it's not one he appreciates. He's never felt truly powerless, literally and figuratively, before, and he does not approve of these feelings in himself whatsoever.
But there's no place to go but forward. And so forward into the tunnels he goes.
no subject
"And you say we're terrible at being comforting." It's more groused than an actual complaint - he feels terrible, but he didn't need it pointed out. "What? I have one-" He shifted the flashlight around, he'd been holding it in his left hand, to tug the somewhat crunched full bottle of water from his pocket. It would have been easier without the flashlight tucked under his arm, but he's very reluctant to carry anything in his right hand - not too surprising, perhaps, as it's the side his sword is hanging on. "-see?"
It takes him a second to realize Chuck means he should drink it, and a further second to get it open without dropping the flashlight. It would be easy to think Raphael was afraid to be in the dark - that's not completely wrong, either, even if he's trying to cover it up. The water is warm, body temperature, but once he actually starts to drink it, he keeps drinking it, almost draining the bottle in one go, and panting as he finally pulled it away.
If he knew that Chuck thought this might teach Raphael something...he'd probably laugh. Chuck wasn't wrong about gaining something, but Raphael didn't hate humans, not really. He was deeply, profoundly disappointed in them, and from this pitied them. Oh some of his protective instincts, the fierce, devoted, occasionally terrifying mother-henning he'd learned from Lucifer and generally only showed a few most beloved brothers, had pricked and poked and prodded at, extended to the entirely of the present host, towards Chuck, towards the children here and it would be a very grave mistake to any to think of raising a hand to them in the near future, but...
...and there was always a but...
those responsible for this? Had best hope Michael finds them before Raphael ever does. Because while he was driven to protect, Raphael also had a vicious temper - and he saw in this cruel abuse of the fragile nature of humanity. More proof that paradise in any form was better than letting humans continue to run amok.
no subject
Chuck watches Raphael completely down the water bottle with a combination of emotions. On one hand, he was glad he was right -- Raphael was dehydrated and, while drinking what he had would certainly help, water wasn't an end-all cure. On the other hand, it's sad. The mighty, fearing archangels, able to bring about the end of the world and everyone along with it... resorting to drinking an entire water bottle in one breath because he was dehydrated.
He continues to hold out his own half-full water bottle, even after Raphael finishes his own. He's not entirely sure how much longer they have to go in these tunnels to reach... wherever it was they're going, but clearly Raphael needs it more than he does. If he had food as well, he'd share that, but he's sadly empty on that front.
It makes him wonder about the other angels. If Raphael, the Healer, was this bad, how was the rest of the Host? Castiel, he's not too worried about. The Winchesters likely have him taken care of, but Michael? Lucifer? Samandriel?
Hopefully they'll find a way out of these tunnels sooner rather than later.
He knows, for the archangels, there's still a long way to go between wanting to destroy all of humanity and loving them. Nor is he expecting a change overnight. He's well aware things like this are a process, and they've proven that such a process is necessary. It will take time. He's only hoping this experience might help to jump start that process.
no subject
He swallows hard for a moment, then shakes his head no. "Give it to Michael." He doubts his brother has had anything to drink either, and had that occurred to him before he downed his own water, he would have saved some of it.
He might try to find Donna and get more water for his brothers. Michael might have to force it down Lucifer's throat, given how he's acting but they'd figure it out.
Raphael isn't aware that Chuck thinks he hates humanity - he doesn't. He doesn't think Michael does either. Killing the humans isn't about hatred, but about mercy and compassion, at least from their preceptive. Certainly from his. And he really doesn't understand why people think he hates humanity.
"But thank you."
no subject
Give the bottle of water to Michael, Raphael says, and Chuck gives a nod, lowering the water bottle back down to his side. He hasn't come across the eldest archangel yet, but if he does, he'll certainly hand it over.
"Yeah, I mean, no problem. Anything I can do to help, right?" He tries. He knows he's not always the best at helping, but he does try. And giving water to an archangel turned human was something the very least he could do to help.
"So, uh. Is everyone else... alright?" Because he has a feeling Raphael's been hopping between people, and so he would be the best person to ask if everyone made it out alright.
no subject
He just nodded - loyalty to Michael trumped his own needs, and most didn't need that explained.
"We'll see." He didn't actually trust Chuck - he had proven he was a handful after all.
"Thus far, yes." He had been hopping between people. But everyone being 'alright' didn't answer where his jacket had gone, or why his sword was hanging in a ready position.
no subject
He nods. He's come across several people of his own, although non of them have looked as battered and ruffled as Raphael. "Are... you alright?" Probably belated and probably a stupid question, but he asks it anyways, voice full of concern.
no subject