kore_logs | Anger of the imaginary gods

Meg is no stranger to bloodlust and violence is practically her middle name but she has been so good lately; sickeningly good actually but there's something bubbling up inside her - rage that she hasn't felt for a long, long time. And surprisingly undemonicly she's been trying not to act on it.

Oh, it would be so easy. There are such pretty tools just begging to be picked up and used to torture the innocent. It would be so beautiful.

Her palms are bloody and sore from digging her nails into them to try and distract herself from the dark thoughts.

Bumping into Raphael is probably the last thing she needs right now. Oh well, they say karma is a bitch.

Raphael was an angry angel to begin with. He knew he was more angry than normal, and that others were also but he wasn't thinking too much was to blame - this place was confining of course tempers would be short, but it's also leading Raphael to be distracted, thinking on other things.

Even still, he smells blood before he rounds the corner, smells demon blood at that so he's not too surprised that it's Meg's head that's smack in the middle of his chest but he shots her a withering glare regardless.

"What are you doing?"

Oh goodie. Just what Meg needs! Only not. She's definitely bristling and in a less than good mood. In fact, there are probably snarling Hellhounds that are in a better mood than Meg is right now.

"Walking, Featherbrain, what does it look like I'm doing? You know, that thing normal people do when they want to get around, using their feet?"

Oh yes. The demon is not a happy camper.

Raphael in no less a bristling mood, and Meg's tone doesn't do anything to soothe those ruffled feathers. In fact, he reaches over to shove her away, and if she hits the wall so hard she bounces off it, oh well.

"I suggest you adjust your tone." Oh that is a note of warning, yes yes it is.

At least she does bounce off it and doesn't go through it. It still hurts though. Seriously. Why do people enjoy throwing her around so much? Does she have 'rag doll' tattooed on her head? No? People are just jerks? Sounds about right.

She dusts herself off, giving a slight snarl. "Adjust my tone? What do you want Feathers? More seduction? More snark?"

He isn't ready to put her through the wall yet. But she is ragdoll sized and in case Castiel didn't babble - Raphael doesn't get his hands dirty often but when he does, he's very hands on with it. And he's discovered heads full of thick hair make wonderful handles.

"Respect. Or fear." One and the same from demons.

As long as he doesn't dunk her head in a vat of bleach, Meg's pretty much okay with being grabbed by her hair - who knows, she might even enjoy it. Being thrown through a wall? Not exactly the foreplay she has in mind.

Unfortunate for her. Since she really seems unwilling to roll over and obey.

"Didn't your Daddy ever teach you that respect needs to be earned? You know, before he became a deadbeat dad."

There are some dark thoughts running around in his mind, but they're not up to latter half of his time in Hell levels, and they're not even quite at Purgatory levels. He's in control of himself, even if he's on edge. Trouble is, he can't tell if he's on edge because he's going crazy like everyone else, or if he's on edge because everyone else is going crazy, or they seem to be. Enough has gone on that Dean's mildly suspicious that something's in the air.

Oh, also, Sam's gone. That might have helped push him into a murderous rampage, but there's no one here he can go after to get him back, except the mechanisms that run this place. Instead, it's dulling him.

He's on his way to the kitchen to grab some things for their suite kitchen, bag in his hand, and he turns a corner and -- great.

Maybe Dean can just smile and nod his way around.

There's no mistaking that it is, in fact, blood on Raphael's sleeve. Someone has managed to set him off - not that it's a great feat of difficultly at present - but the slow turn as he realizes Dean is in the room is probably reminiscent both of Dean's first meeting with Raphael, that slow drawing up, shoulders back and unblinking stare, but there's something else to it too, a slow, predatory smile, something probably similar to a looks Dean's seen on Gabriel, or even Lucifer.

"Hello Dean."

Oh, this is fucking perfect. He slows to a stop, awareness of his situation making him automatically start to adopt more of a defensive stance, or at least prepare himself to adopt one.

"Looks like you had a busy day."

On the one hand, he needs to put a stop to whatever's going around; on the other, he doesn't have much on him that'll help him in a fight against Raphael.

"Not especially." Meg had the bad timing of running across him. He'd managed to keep his temper in check prior, but a demon just offended him on all levels.

"What have you been up to Dean?" As if Raphael isn't very well aware that Sam is missing.

This is supremely uncomfortable.

"Keeping my nose clean." He just wants to get out of here. He moves, pointing down the hallway.

"Good seeing you." Only not.

He doesn't want to tangle with anyone who looks as murderous as Raphael does right now.

So far, Gabriel hasn't been much bothered by the bloodlust. He's one of those who haven't been affected, and no one who has been affected has been anywhere near strong enough to pose a threat to him. That's mostly because he's not been interacting with people much, admittedly, preferring to sit back and watch, especially when it comes to those who've been affected.

But it's left him with the impression that it's not a big problem; in fact, he's almost convinced that the angels are too powerful to have been seriously affected. So, though he can sense something is certainly off with his brother, he doesn't let it worry him as much as it should. He does make an effort to stay out of his family's way, of course - no point risking a confrontation - but when by chance he runs into Raphael, he doesn't think the situation's so bad that he has any reason to just leave.

"'Sup, Raph." He's not about to start any kind of drawn-out conversation, of course. Certainly not anything emotionally charged. But he doesn't see any reason not to say 'hi' - even keeping in mind that Raphael seems a little ticked-off, being rude seems more likely to annoy him than being unobtrustively (and, alright, just a tad warily) friendly. "How's it hanging?"

Raphael has, thus far, been avoiding his family because he's quickly running out of reasons to stay his hand when it comes to his siblings. Samandriel is the only one who is the exception to his siblings.

"Gabriel." It's terse. Which is probably enough of an answer, given the lack of warmth compared to even their somewhat repaired relationship. But at least he's not ready to throw a punch. Yet.

That gives him pause. It's better than just being straight-out attacked, of course, and he's well aware Raphael has more reason than most to be furious with him, but it still gives him a tight feeling in his chest that he's reluctant to try to name.

"Grumpy bug got you too, huh?" He hopes so, at least. It might be more dangerous than just a normal bad mood, but he'd rather have something else to blame than have Raphael be genuinely angry at him after all the progress they've made here. "Don't worry, I'll keep out of your hair - well, what little you've got, anyway."

Because running away and hiding is always a valid reaction to any stressor.

"You mean you're going to run off and hide?" It's whatever is going around, but that doesn't mean it's not tapping into something actually there. And just because Raphael had been sitting on his resentment and anger, had been burying it so he could pretend he wasn't as hurt as he was, didn't mean it wasn't there. He'd just (then) been willing to pretend, to ignore, to shuffle away, and focus instead on the fact that here, Gabriel was very much alive and willing to stay with his family.

"Say what you like, but given that not running off and hiding has a tendency to a) hurt a lot, b) get me killed, or c) both at once, I'm kinda liking the option that doesn't do anyone any harm. I know, I know, I'm a terrible person - better lock me up before I do any more damage with my reckless selfishness, right?"

Well, of course, he does know that he's a terrible person, but in this particular case the comment is sarcastic. Of course it's more complicated than that - spending time with Balthazar and Raphael here has proven to him that his leaving has had more consequences for his siblings than he'd realised or intended - but, well, he's stressed. And while he'd probably admit it himself under different circumstances, right now he doesn't much care for what Raphael's accusing him of.

He wasn't sure when it started, but anger kept boiling up in Castiel. It had been at least a few hours of noticeable--well, he's not sure, but there was an almost wrathful tinge to his thoughts.

Self-awareness only went so far and when the feelings flared up, it was drowned out by them.

Trudging down the hall with heavy steps, he turned a corner and came face-to-face with Raphael.

Instead of saying any of the angry things that came to his mind, he glared.

The glare is met with a glare. Between Meg literally running into him, Dean crossing his path, and Gabriel being well Gabriel, Raphael's patience is shot.

"How are you feeling Castiel?" That tone was no where close to the friendliness those words implied.

"Fine." The word was ground out with a hint of anger and blame. He wasn't fine and it was no thanks to Raphael or any of the other archangels.

Castiel hadn't felt secure in a long time. There was no comfort or safety in anything, least of all those who were supposed to keep Heaven on the right path. Whatever was happening to him now, he was looking at one of the causes.

Balthazar fought it at first, tried to combat the rising tide of bitterness and anger with logic. After all, his brothers have only tried to do what was best. It's a tragedy how it's worked out, no doubt, but no one has maliciously tried to destroy their family. No one that's here in Kore, anyway.

It's not long before that train of thought runs off the track, though, because even if no one set out to break the Host, no one's done a good job of holding it together, each angel fucking up in his or her own special way.

If Gabriel hadn't left...
If Raphael hadn't been so determined to support Michael at the expense of the rest of them...
If Castiel hadn't Fallen...
If Lucifer hadn't...
If Michael...

In the end, they've all done wrong, and Balthazar knows he's as guilty as any of them. That actually makes him angrier.

After a few days, he can't drown it in alcohol and distraction any longer. He stalks the halls until he collapses and wakes in his dorm and then, frustrated, stalks the halls again. By the time he runs into Raphael, he's on edge, and it shows.

Anger of the imaginary gods

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