EVENT ∞ LOG — July 125

[thediadem]

Event ∞ Log

In the Flesh

Jump ⇅ :: Visits — First Contact — Hitchhikers — Notes

∞ Prologue ∞

It's not real, it's not real.

Somewhere in the Blocks, late at night, a young woman repeats the words over and over, fumbling with her room key. She doesn't dare look over her shoulder again, begging her hand to obey. Her fingers are stiff and smooth, and it makes each movement more difficult. Eventually, the door gives way. She stumbles into the apartment, slamming it behind her and locking several bolts.

Leaning back on the door, she lets her key ring fall to the linoleum as she holds her hand up to her face. It isn't just her fingers now. Painted plastic has taken over her entire right hand, spreading up her forearm toward a ball-jointed elbow that creaks painfully. She grabs her neck with her flesh hand, sucking in a sharp breath as she tries to steady her heart.

It's not real, it's not real...

She takes another breath, then turns on the light. The bulb flickers. Hazy light flood the room with an incessant buzz.

She freezes.

A figure stands in the opposite doorway. It doesn't move, stuck in a pose with an outstretched hand—one made of flesh and bone. Her hand.

She screams.

Info & Mechanics — NPC Forum Post — Event Interaction ::: ⇅ Top

Strange Visits

Panorama

For the first week or two of July, life goes on as usual. You have a lot on your plate—jobs, loans, rent, that creep who won't stop staring at you when you're filling up your car—and the last thing you've got time for is other people's problems. Or maybe you find room to listen, anyway? Whatever the case, it's mostly a lot of stories and pointing fingers: a shopkeeper accuses his friend of stealing from him, somebody claims their boss must've skipped town to avoid paying the employees, and a woman is frantic about her missing husband. He never goes anywhere without telling her.

If you decide to look into it, none of the incidents seem connected. After all, people frequently go missing in the Diadem, friends betray each other, and businesses often go bankrupt, leaving their workers to pick up the pieces. Funny thing, though: here and there, you swear you glimpse a figure who isn't entirely flesh. Their features are just...a bit odd. Is it your imagination? When you move in for a closer look, something gets in your way and the figure disappears.

On the other hand, you think to yourself, it's not as though everybody on this planet looks standard. If a man can have horns, why can't his skin also be a bit plasticky?

Use the Event Interaction comment any time you need specifics or some direction for an element you're engaging within the event. This can be an NPC victim your character is questioning, an aspect of the diffusion zone your character is testing, or anything along those veins. While you're encouraged to make things up on your own, too, if you're ever unsure of the results or the answers you might get, approach us there!

⇅ Top

First Contact

The Fringes

Inevitably, you take the risk and head back into the Fringes. It has what you need, and the bizarreness in Panorama isn't making the city feel like much of a refuge, either. Besides, long trips aren't unusual for anyone in the Diadem. As you drive, you might even find yourself reluctant to return to the city. After all, there's so much across the multitude of diffusion zones that regardless of how dangerous it can be, perhaps some part of you is attracted to the thrill of the unknown.

If the promise of loot isn't enough, a note on the Forum might be. Here, you'll scroll across a brief message from who else but the ever-eager Felix Bjurstrom, joined by his daughter, Olive "Ollie" Bjurstrom. (Looks like he's got a new phone again!) If nothing else, the investigative or curious nature in you gets you going. What if this is a piece of the puzzle you need to go home?

If you want your character to scavenge items, check how that works. The Map identifies where each Quadrant is located.

Among the Shadows — Abandoned Mall

©

In Quadrant 1, about a 10-hour drive from Panorama, a standard American shopping mall rises through the cracked and broken highway. A portion of its vast parking lot melts into the road ahead and behind. There are cars in the parking lot, each one perfectly preserved: no rust, no dust, nothing.

The mall's lights are on. The moment you step inside, you'll notice that you're not alone. Inside, shadow corpses are everywhere, frozen in time. Their bodies show no signs of distress. If you try to touch them, a dark, ashy residue coats your fingers. You see a young couple linking arms, a mother bending over to pick up her child, and a man ordering his last meal at the KFC. It's as though they all just...stopped. While eerie, whatever force swept through here is long gone.

The upside is that nobody will bother you while you look around—aside from other fluxdrifts, of course. The shops and their offerings are stuck in the 90's. Big electronics are cosmic touched, rendering them worthless, but smaller electronics like cassette tapes, CDs, and Walkmans are all viable. You can also grab clothes, snacks, and (cheap) jewelry.

And, as you pass by the store windows, you see many mannequins on display. That's normal, so you don't think twice. At least, until you swear one of them keeps moving around the store. Though its pose never changes, it almost appears to...follow you? That can't be right. You must be seeing things.

Zone Effects
Touching any of the frozen shadows will cause the victim to believe that their companion(s) have transformed into monstrous creatures. Attempts to approach you will only register as an attack rather than placating gestures, while words will sound like snarls or spoken threats. An induced panic will make it more difficult to think logically and see through the hallucination. The illusory creatures can take the form of anything that might frighten or threaten you the most.

You can break free of the illusion through a variety of methods, including your own willpower, being knocked out by your friends, or seeing/hearing something that makes you realize it isn't real. The hallucination isn't overly intense, but it can cause a bit of havoc among you and your companions...and increase the likelihood a mannequin might make contact unnoticed.

Wall of Refuge — Strange Temple

©

In Quadrant 1, about a 6-hour drive from Panorama—and on the way to the abandoned mall above—stands a geometric structure made of metal and stone. Sharp angles shoot up from the ground to form a distorted hexagon. The gateway is littered with sigils: some weathered by time, others freshly carved into the rocky surface. They glow when you drive forward, beckoning you closer. Come in, whispers an unknown compulsion in your mind. You are home.

You may succumb to the whispers for any number of reasons: sleep deprivation, desperation for a place to rest overnight, or a need to hide from raiders or dangerous creatures lurking in another nearby zone. Regardless, you give in and enter the triangular entrance. The stone gate lifts to grant you passage, revealing an effigy of a multi-limbed being. A deity? A symbol of power? Though you're unsure, you continue deeper. Your footsteps echo across the cavernous halls.

Behind you, the heavy gate slowly closes with a rumbling finality. Despite the chilly entranceway, the interior of the temple is warm and inviting. Candles line the walls. Fountains flow peacefully. You can enter one of the many rooms to find a soft bed, fresh cakes, succulent meat, and fine wine available for you. Behind a silk curtain is a steaming bath lined with soothing floral herbs and oils.

Meanwhile, throughout your explorations, you might sense a figure or a shadow in the passageway. A glimpse of shiny plastic appears oddly out of place in a temple of this kind.

Zone Effects

• If you are a believer and decide to trust the gifts bestowed upon you, then you may safely indulge. The wine will warm you up, the food will fill your belly, and you can sleep through the night. When you awaken, you can safely leave the temple refreshed. Your vehicle will be outside, untouched, as if some power within was protecting your belongings.
• If you are a heretic and doubt the offerings you've been graciously given, the gifts will begin to rot and all amenities will crumble to dust. The more your cynicism betrays you, the more the temple will take until nothing remains except the oddly textured walls bearing down on you. As you examine the surface, you realize the stone is built from a manifold of dozens—no, hundreds—of twisted bodies. Their arms are raised in reverence, piled upon each other like human bricks. Their gaping mouths are frozen in a silent scream. As for you and your companions...what fate will await the nonbeliever?

The Last Stop — Foggy Town

©

In Quadrant 4, about a 3-hour drive from Panorama, east of the currently unused train tracks, a thick mist rolls through the highway. Here, the sky darkens rapidly into night and the temperature drops. If you've traveled unprepared, presuming the heat in Panorama spreads into the Fringes, you'll find that's not so. A chill spreads into your bones and creeps up the back of your neck.

Then the ground rumbles. The tremors shake your vehicle. Maybe it even makes you lose control briefly or sends you swerving off-road, straight into the fields. And in the middle of the fog, you see it: a figure standing in the middle of the field. Behind it are a few houses, making up a tiny rural town. The houses are dilapidated, many crumbling. Supplies within are minimal, and many items are broken or spoiled.

Do you approach? Do you drive past? Merely staring for a second too long will be enough for the hitchhiker to choose you as its ride, but its appearance may not be all that keeps you in place. In the distance is another bigger shadow. A much bigger shadow. It looms in the distance without true mass or form. Within the void of its body, a searchlight sweeps over the misty town. It does not move. It simply looks while the ground shakes. Each time its light catches a glimpse of something that doesn't belong—an animal, a vehicle that drove too deep into the tall grass, a raider that went too far into town—a sonorous howl reverberates through the zone.

Then the shadow will teleport to its target and crush the intruder without mercy before retreating back to its watchful post. And the intruder is indeed crushed: any living organism caught by the Light Guardian will be flattened with a horrifying crunch of broken bones and squished organs.

Zone Effects
While the Light Guardian can't be defeated or confronted, you can outrun or hide from its sweeping beam. If you stop far enough on the side of the road, it won't notice you...but you can still watch as it mangles an unfortunate raider or traveler. Possibly, you see the spray of blood or hear the screams before you run. Perhaps you realize how easily you could've met your own gory fate.

If you've left your car and gone too deep into the town before you realize the danger, you can do one of two things: you can risk hiding in an abandoned house in the town and hope that the sunrise comes. In zones like this, the day/night cycle is unpredictable, and many places are permanently cast in darkness. Or, you can try to run back to your vehicle and pray you don't get caught.

Alternatively, you've plowed directly into the field when raiders in pursuit force you into the zone. Should fortune favor you, they'll be obliterated by the Light Guardian while you flee. The beam tracks quickly, but can only shine in one direction at a time so the key is to bob and weave.

⇅ Top

Hitchhikers

Anywhere

Not everyone who enters the diffusion zone will pick up a mannequin, but the possibility is there. Once you make first contact, you will gain a hitchhiker. Unlike most aspects of the diffusion zones, this one has gathered into a storm, meaning the effects will breach even normally stable and anchored strongholds like Panorama.

Some fluxdrifts will brush off your problems while a few might believe you. Others will offer solutions in their own way, including a doctor who'll pay to obtain strange plastic limbs. Not everyone will pitch in to help. The city's big, populated, and somebody on the street turning doll-like doesn't affect them (...until it does). They've got a job to get to and mouths to feed.

Unwanted Passenger

When do you first notice your passenger? At any point, really. Perhaps it goes like this:

You glance in the rearview mirror and glimpse a figure in the backseat. When you spin around, there's nobody there. Then it happens again. This time, you realize it's not a person, but a dummy. A mannequin. It's sitting upright. And is it...wearing a seatbelt? Or maybe it's thrown itself across the back bench as though somebody tossed it there, uncaring.

This time, when you look back, it's still there. You pull over and dump it on the side of the road. That's taken care of, you think. You drive some more. For a few hours or even a day or two—depending on how long you've traveled—you don't think much of it. Then suddenly, it's back. And it keeps coming back no matter how much you try to get rid of it.

Or it goes like this:

You return from a standard trip into a diffusion zone. It went pretty well, you think. You found some clothes at a creepy mall and now you're ready to get some sleep. When you open your trunk to retrieve your belongings, you notice a mannequin stuffed inside, limbs bent at odd angles. You're a little weirded out, but you decide to dump it on the street and move on.

You shower. In the bathroom mirror, the mannequin suddenly appears behind you. Over the next few days, this continues. The mannequin appears in a booth across the diner as you're eating your eggs. It's behind a shelf in the corner store. It's in your closet. Each time you check, it vanishes...but then, sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes it's right there in plain view. It'll even let you throw it away, burn it, anything you can think of. But it always comes back.

However it plays out, you realize that people around you do notice it...sometimes. That doesn't mean anyone will believe you that things are just that weird. Most people have better things to do. They don't know you, after all, and even if they did, well, this place does have a habit of driving people a little crazy. Witnesses casually push the mannequin aside and tell you that's a funny prank. Your regular waitress pats your shoulder and suggests you get some sleep. You're not looking well. The shopkeeper demands you take that thing before you go. He's not responsible for your junk.

But there's a small chance you run into someone who seems to be going through what you are. Unfortunately, they seem to actually have it worse and aren't making much sense. Still, you can try questioning them and see what answers you get. At least, before you lose them for good. For some of you, the victim you run into is in especially bad shape...and you have to wonder how long before you end up the same.

Trading Places

For some of you, the mannequins might not do more than be a nuisance. While that's not ideal, either, it doesn't completely upend your life. Others are less fortunate. If you're one of the latter, you'll begin to notice symptoms.

The first time it happens, you're startled to hear the mannequin speak. To begin with, its voice might be guttural and unnatural, incapable of stringing more than a few words together. Then it seems to learn. It talks in full sentences. Its voice smooths out. It starts to sound more and more like you...right down to your speech patterns and accent. As symptoms progress with varying intensity—over days or weeks—you realize with dawning horror that you're losing parts of yourself. When you wash your hands, you notice a part of your skin is smooth and shiny. The next time the mannequin appears, its previously plasticky appearance is more flesh and blood.

Eventually, the mannequin becomes independent. It shops with your money. It steals while wearing a face that looks nearly identical to yours, especially from a distance. It calls your friend and says the things you would never say out loud to them. They're thoughts you've had, sure, but you know better than to hurt your friend's feelings...except apparently, you have. And now you can't even use your own voice to explain yourself. Your leg has been getting stiff. Your joints don't bend properly.

Meanwhile, the mannequin is now striding around smoothly. Its appearance is still uncanny and odd if anyone pays attention, but at a glance, it easily passes as a part of the crowd. As its final act, it's even absorbed small bits of your abilities if you have any. Not all of them, but enough to cause trouble. Throughout everything, you cannot harm your hitchhiker. Some unknown force stops you any time you think about it. You simply can't.

Related Incidents

The impact isn't contained only to those directly affected. The hitchhikers' influence spreads through the city. For some incidents, it's difficult to trace back to the source. For others, that's a little easier. Regardless, these occurrences could help you determine how to solve your own situation. Alternatively, if you've escaped unscathed, you can still find yourself dragged into a situation involving someone else.

Return to Sender

July 11 — The Forum: An anonymous poster contributes this bit of information that might catch the eye of those affected. You can try the same method, but it's a risk going back into the diffusion zones. No one can guarantee the specific zone you found the mannequin in is still standing. Further, you have to remember where you made contact to begin with.

If you decide to try it, be sure to take a friend. The less independent the hitchhiker, the more likely it will stick to your side even as you return it home. If the assimilation has progressed too far, though, you might have to utilize methods such as duct taping inside your trunk or strapping it down with ropes. It may struggle and say vile things to you or your companion.

Victimless Burn Victims

July 14 @ 03:00 — The Pavilion (East End): A handful of troublemakers grabbed some freaky mannequins wandering the street and, in a drunken stroke of genius, set them all on fire for no reason other than that they wanted to. Not only has this resulted in damage to the corner store nearby, but Enforcers have linked the incident to four hospitalizations at roughly the same time. Doctors from Saint Margery's Hospital (located in the Blocks) report that all four individuals suffered massive shock and claim to have endured unimaginable agony as if they had been "set on fire."

Curiously, none of them bear any physical wounds and, by all accounts, are completely fine (trauma aside). Notably, all four individuals were also suffering from various stages of "joint stiffness" and "hallucinations"...which have since completely vanished. You might wonder, is this the solution? Or perhaps the better question would be, is it worth it?

The Sculptor

July 15 — The Pavilion (Medical Clinic): Around July 14 onward, word begins to spread that a Dr. Maggie Wright (who insists on being called the Sculptor, though nobody seems to heed this request) will not only do an amputation for free, she will pay you for your limb if you are boasting an "unusual trophic change to the skin, resulting in a smooth and shiny texture." All she asks is she gets to keep the sample. Her promise is that she will study it to find a more permanent cure and, if she does, she will return the limb to you for reattachment.

Some end up trusting her. You wonder, maybe she could help? Dr. Wright will happily accept you as her patient if you agree. Her methods are indeed proper and sterile: she'll put you under and provide you with plenty of pain meds. She appears to have all of the equipment required to preserve the limb, too.

If you're suspicious, you can also pay her a visit, but you won't have much luck getting her in trouble or sniffing out any evidence of nefarious deeds. Her office hasn't got anything strange, she is indeed a real surgeon, and there are testimonials from patients who've had success under her care in the past. Plus, nobody's going to her who isn't doing so voluntarily (they've signed waivers)—even if you could argue how much desperation plays into their decision. Still...the thing about her "title" is a bit weird, right?

Dr. Maggie Wright is 5'2, Caucasian with a light Northeastern accent and silver hair often worn in a bun. She's in her 50s and looks fairly good for her age. Her voice is soothing. She has intense, wide blue eyes, which some might find unnerving, but that's not necessarily her fault.

∞ Notes ∞

• Mannequin contact is not required. Not everybody who goes into the diffusion will make first contact, and many won't. Characters can explore the mall, the temple, and the foggy field without ever picking up a hitchhiker.
• The diffusion zones described are only examples. Others will exist where mannequins can be found, including grocery stores, gas stations, abandoned parks, and more. You can make up your own, but check with us if you have any questions about limitations!
• The speed and intensity of all mechanics are entirely up to you. Generally, the earlier a character makes first contact, the more severe their consequences.
• Investigating the zones or helping others are perfectly fine ways to participate! Since the hitchhikers are meant to be more insidious, it won't be strange if your character isn't in the middle of the action right away or notices things a bit late.

Questions? Ask here

Main Navigation ::: ⇅ Top

Comments

[godjr]

"It's not easy for me either, you know. This situation." Jack knows that this Castiel is new to him and has felt burdened by him. He's perceptive, he can tell that pretty clearly. But he longs to be around him so much that the pain it causes is just secondary in his mind.

"My father died because of me, and even if I go to the Empty too, I probably won't be able to see him again." The Shadow might be tolerant of Jack, but it hates Castiel, it would never do anything nice for him. He didn't get to say goodbye to Castiel either, everything happened so fast with Billie, and Jack feels guilty about that, that he trusted her in the first place.

"I can't let you go, it's just ... I can't." Jack's grieving and he didn't realize it. He'd been so focused on their goal of killing Chuck and ending the problem, he didn't have the time to reflect on Castiel's loss. All of them just had to move on.

[messenger]

Castiel knows. But he doesn't interject. Not right away, at least. Not until Jack is finished speaking. His lips are pressed together tight, his brows furrowed, thin line between them, shoulders drawn up stiff by the time that he's done. It's not as though he can't recognize the unfairness of the situation, but he doesn't know how to solve the problem between them. Because he doesn't trust Jack, and he's no good at lying about it, and what use would it be anyway? He doesn't trust his powers. He doesn't trust how he might use them, no matter how hard he says he's trying.

"He didn't die because of you," Castiel says, finally, eyes fixed on Jack's face. He hopes that this at least might lift some of the burden from him, because it's all he can give. "I made a choice. There's always another way, but I— I made a choice. And if it wasn't for you, it would have been someone else."

Castiel pauses, then continues, his voice sadder, softer.

"Do you know how many times I've died for Dean and Sam?"

[godjr]

"I've died three times in my three years. Like father, like son." He's sacrificed for his loved ones and he's died for the world and it's exhausting. As much as he knows that he has to go back and do it again, being here has been a bit of a respite. And Jack's allowed himself to like some of it. But he's reminded of what he's supposed to be doing when he uses his power like this. Jack has no idea what he could actually do with them, if he let loose.

He's unstable, no matter how hard he tries to do better. Jack sighs, brushing his tears away. "Lucifer said he's the only person who could train me. That none of you could understand being an archangel. He was right, but that does nothing for me now." Jack wouldn't trust Lucifer, obviously, but that doesn't mean his father was wrong. Power like theirs is specific.

"But you're still an angel, you understand a little better. Can't you help at all?"

[messenger]

"That's not my point," Castiel says, softer, though he feels a twinge of annoyance that Jack seems to think this is some kind of competition. What he's trying to communicate is specific, but— Jack moves on and that's all there is to it. Maybe he can't make him understand. Maybe he just doesn't know how.

Castiel looks down at the pavement.

"...Your powers aren't the problem, Jack. It's your self-control. But if there's something you want to know—" Castiel shrugs, feeling hopeless again.

[godjr]

"What is your point? That him being gone because of me means less because he'd do it for anyone?" Jack is frustrated and upset and he's acting out more than he usually would because of it. He's usually so polite and gentle but it's not all he is, especially given his emotional state. He knows he can't be perfect all the time, no matter how much he wants to be. It's something that haunts him, because other people are allowed to be flawed, but with him, it just means he's a danger.

"I know what the problem is, Castiel. It's me, it's always me. You don't know how many times I've tried to do right only to mess it up. I just ... feel helpless. I didn't ask for any of this." He puts his arms around himself, pacing for a momennt, turning his back on Castiel. Sometimes his emotional pain feels like it's real, like he can feel everything bearing down on him. "You let me live because you had a vision that I could make the world a better place, but I'm broken."

[messenger]

"I'm saying that it's not your fault he's gone." Castiel crosses his arms across his chest. There's sympathy in the words, but it takes all his self-control not to snap. And he feels guilty for it, but he feels worse for the fact that it isn't just Jack. Not really. He watches him with a terse frown, watches his emotions play clear across his face. Flickering like bars of lightning. Bright and snapping.

"I told you: he made a choice. He's the only one who can be blamed for what happened."

Castiel swallows and lets his arms fall back to his sides.

"That's not your fault, either. I think... We're just not meant to act on our own like this." Castiel pauses, leaning back against the car with the rest of his weight. "I tried to teach the angels free will, did I ever tell you that? It was a disaster. We need— We need direction. A leader. A joint cause. If we don't have that, we just... fall apart. But you. You're half-human. You can't be expected to live like an angel. I don't know what to do for you. I don't know how to help you. And I— If that's why I let you live, I..."

Jack doesn't realize that it's a condemnation. It was never really about him at all. Maybe he grew to love Jack. Maybe he still can. But—

[godjr]

Jack's quiet for a moment. "That's what I told him, that it was my choice to die killing Chuck. He didn't want to hear it." So he understands what Castiel is saying. For Jack a lot of times what confuses him is morally gray areas because he doesn't have the nuance that other people do. He doesn't have the experience. "But ... he already lost me twice. I don't think he could be rational about it. He'd rather it be him." Jack is Castiel's child. Sam's child. They couldn't lose him one more time.

Jack calms down somewhat with that and also he listens attentively to Castiel. That's what he likes about this one. He tells him things. He's fascinated, shaking his head when he mentions the free will. "They wanted me to be their leader. It went badly, because Duma was manipulating me to create new angels." So yes, again, the angels needed a leader, a direction, and they thought they could use the son of Lucifer to do it. Duma was the real mind behind it though. She was just using Jack, exactly as everyone was afraid would happen. And he let it.

"Well ...." Jack frowns. He hears the condemnation and he doesn't like it. He always forgives Castiel for everything. "The vision convinced him that I wasn't evil and that I deserved to live. I'm not sure I actually ... held up my end of the bargain. Maybe when I kill Chuck, that's what it meant. And I'll prove myself to him."

[messenger]

"I let Lucifer take my body to walk the Earth so Sam wouldn't have to. Of course I'd rather it be me," Rational? What's that got to do with anything? It'll always be him, if he can make it that way. The Winchesters aren't allowed to die. At least, not by unnatural means. And if Jack is a Winchester, then— It's simple, isn't it? Knowing how Sam feels, it's difficult even for him here, now. But he isn't loyal to Sam in the same way that he's loyal to Dean, and he never has been. They all know it.

It might not be enough to sway him.

Castiel's brow is still furrowed. Something strikes him, suddenly, and he lifts his head to meet Jack's eyes.

"I let you live? I was trying to kill you?"

[godjr]

"I'm like you that way. I just wish I could spare everyone pain, that I could make it all better. You've tried to teach me how impossible that is, but it doesn't change how it feels." Jack has all this power in his hands and the problem is, it's destructive. Look at the fight he had with the creature, how angry and fearful he became and used it the way he shouldn't have. His heart wants him to help, his instinct goes to hurt. More of him is like Lucifer than any of them want to admit, but it comes down to the archangel in him.

"Yes, you were supposed to kill my mother and me with her. The forces of good believed a Nephilim was too dangerous to live. Only Hell and Lucifer wanted me. But you took my mother away and hid her, even from the Winchesters. I think you were afraid they would feel like they had to hurt me. Dean did shoot me immediately upon being born, but I looked like this, so it's not as if he shot a baby." Jack doesn't think Dean would ever do that, no matter how evil the baby might be. Him being a full grown person made him more terrifying and less innocent in the eyes of everyone else.

[messenger]

"...It is impossible. We rejected paradise." But there was a reason why. It's not like he's forgotten. Perhaps in the future he'll come to better understand why it becomes so (much more) difficult to hold to that— Because if they never had any freedom to begin with, if their free will was a farce, then what difference would it have made? That's defeatist thinking. But, well. It's not like he's above it.

Castiel nods, a thoughtful look passing over his face as his gaze drifts into middle distance. Nothing Jack has to say comes as any surprise. He can imagine that he wouldn't want Sam and Dean to have to murder a woman and her unborn child. He can imagine his own self-righteousness in taking the task into his own hands. It is quite literally his job to exterminate Nephilim if the situation calls for it, and he's done it before in the past. But there's something else— Something that's bothering him—

"Jack... Where did the vision come from?"

[godjr]

"From me. I guess. I don't remember, I was in the womb, but I communicated with you and my mother. And I also accidentally opened a rift to another world. I gave you my power so you could kill a Prince of Hell." All while still in utero, so yes, generally a problem. His powers were already forming and he was capable of great things when he was still being formed. But it doesn't mean Jack remembers it like he intentionally did it while this was happening. He does know it happened, but it wasn't a conscious thought.

"My mother taught me when I was still being made, she told me a lot about the world and everything she knew, so I could come out older and able to defend myself." That way Dean wouldn't have to shoot a baby if it came down to it. And no one else could swoop up a baby and bring it anywhere they wanted like Heaven or Hell. He had to be this. "We decided that you would be my father because you were already our guardian and you were wise, we trusted you." During that time, Jack really does think of it as more a we than a him.

"My mother was certain that with you I would be safe, that I had an angel looking after me. You swore to protect me no matter what before she died." Castiel takes his oaths very seriously. So does Jack. "You cared for her. You were good friends by the end, I think."

[messenger]

"How would you know?" Castiel rolls the words over his tongue, suspicion in the hollows of his mouth. It's not meant to be a challenge, but the more Jack speaks, the more uncomfortable he becomes. He swore to protect Jack? He became their guardian? He became Jack's father? And all because—

Jack touched his mind. Unintentionally, maybe. Unconsciously, certainly. Like a self-survival instinct. There's no possible way he could have known what he was doing, but he did it nonetheless. A being powerful enough to create angels from scratch could, without a doubt, also alter one. They're famously reprogrammable. Even a demon could do it, with the right equipment. Castiel's watched it be done.

He presses his palms back against the solid shape of his car behind him, resting his weight there, as though suddenly he can't hold all of it on his own. Can Jack feel the terror shivering underneath his skin? That's dangerous. He should shut it down. He should close himself off. But, can he? To a being that powerful? Can he hide anything at all?

Castiel opens his mouth. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what to do. He suddenly, fiercely misses his arrangement with Lucifer. The shame comes next.

[godjr]

He looks confused. "The only thing I knew when I was born was that you were my father and I had to find you, so you could guide me not to be what everyone feared. My mother left me a message about who I should be, and you and Sam explained the rest. He was there when I was born, he took care of me." Jack doesn't know a lot of things, that's been obvious enough with how little he knows of Castiel's past and what the Winchesters have done. Everything he's learned he had to be informed of, otherwise he is a blank slate. He trusts what his family tells him, he has no reason to doubt them.

If any of that was true, it wasn't intentional on Jack's part. He believes everything he's saying absolutely, with no follow up questions. This is the story he's been told by his family and that's all there is to it.

"You told me that family could be chosen. That we can love people as family even if they aren't blood related. I've based all that I am on the lessons I was taught by you and the Winchesters. Isn't that family?" Jack can tell something is off with Castiel but he assumes it's just because this is a lot of information all at once. And after their close call with the creature. He's observant and he can read emotions sometimes, but he doesn't do that to Castiel.

[messenger]

He wonders who told Jack that he and his mother were friends. Was it him? Were those the words he used? Or did she say so to Jack in the message she left? Even Castiel isn't crass enough to ask that particular question, though, despite what he's feeling now. It's not the point, anyway. The point is that— The point is that— Jack touched his mind. Jack touched his mind, and he became loyal to him. Perhaps it's just in their nature, as angels. Perhaps they aren't capable of anything else.

For a moment, he looks at Jack and sees something kindred. And then he remembers everything else. He touches his fingertips to his temple, rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, inexplicably expecting to find them come away wet with blood.

But there's nothing.

"Of course. But you... You made me into what you needed." He just had to give Castiel the right motivation. With the right kind of finesse, he imagines it must have been easy. Jack does so much without even trying. "You were inside my head. You changed me." Said not so softly, now. That's an accusation.

[godjr]

Jack looks genuinely shocked at that, like the thought had never and could never cross his mind. Castiel may have well slapped him repeatedly across the face with the way he looks now, eyes wide. "I did not!" He instantly turns from horror to anger, jaw tense. "You don't know what you're talking about." This isn't his Castiel. He's reminded of that and he crosses arms against his chest.

"You think if I could do that, I wouldn't have made the world love me? Make Heaven and Hell bow to my wishes?" He throws his hands up in the air. "I couldn't even convince Dean to love me, and I tried really, really hard, to be a person he could love." So hard that it tore him to pieces over and over again, and it hurts even now. "I was hunted, I was killed, I fought my father, my uncle, my grandfather, I did it all for you, for my family, and the world you all loved."

He's upset now again, his calm interrupted. "You don't know what I've been through in three years, and the battles I've fought, and the mistakes I've made, to be a Winchester, to earn the love and approval of the people I care about." Jack speaks with emotion, with strength. "You don't have to love me, Castiel, you don't have to like me, but you don't get to take away what was real between me and my father. I know he loved me for me." Jack has never doubted Castiel and he isn't going to start now.

"Maybe you think you're not capable of that type of relationship, but you don't get to denigrate it because you don't understand it."

[messenger]

"No, you don't understand!" Castiel lifts his fist and brings it down on the side of his car, leaving another dent in the Impala with a resounding sound.

Jack's anger makes it easy.

He's been slinking around the thought, guilty, since the moment it occurred to him. Really, he doesn't like to cause pain. But Castiel's no stranger to getting caught up in his own emotions, and now he lets them be what bolsters him. He's always had a bad habit of thinking he's right when he feels that it's true, and now is no different. He pushes off from the car, taking a step in Jack's direction, his eyes narrowing— Gaze no longer evasive. "You don't know anything. The father who loves you has told you nothing at all. At least I have an excuse for my ignorance," His nostrils flare with his inhale. "My mind has been torn into so many times, I don't even know how far it goes. My loyalty to Heaven was half manufactured by angels just like myself. And if they're capable of manufacturing loyalty, why not you? They're nothing in the face of your power. I'm nothing—"

His voice breaks.

Castiel, of course, is nothing at all.

He takes another breath, and another step forward. His hands remain fists at his side.

"What's real is a matter of perspective. You couldn't have even meant to do it. But you still touched my mind. You still— I was meant to kill you." Castiel pauses, "I'm still not sure I shouldn't."

[godjr]

Castiel's never yelled at Jack, never raised his voice, always treated him gently and with love. It surprises him at first, he's heard him yell at other people, but his jaw only tightens more. He lifts his chin defiantly and takes a step at Castiel too. He won't be cowed. Maybe it's a necessary step for a child to challenge their parent at times. "He had his reasons. I might not know what they are, but I trust him. You don't have the right to question his motives. I doubt it's the only time you've kept things from your loved ones for their protection."

It's hard not to mix the 'him' and 'you' around because the truth is it's both. This Castiel isn't the future Castiel yet, but they come from the same place, they have the same difficult history.

"I'm sorry people have been unkind to you and hurt your mind, but I'm not them. My entire life everyone's projected their flaws and their fears onto me, but I haven't done anything to cause that. You're just like the rest of the angels even now, assuming the worst. Unable to open your mind." Jack usually is more inclined to back down than push back, but he's upset and this whole experience has shaken him.

In a way, he's mirroring Castiel even now. Hands in fists, stepping close to him. He and Castiel are almost the same height so their gazes are level. "You can't kill me, Castiel. There's nothing you could do that would even hurt me, physically. But you can hurt me emotionally, and you have, worse than anyone else ever has." Tears spring to his eyes again but they're partly from anger. "Congratulations, you managed to surpass Lucifer in your cruelty toward someone who loves you. I hope you feel good about yourself."

Jack pushes right past him and heads toward his motorcycle, internally bleeding.

[messenger]

Perhaps if Jack could see Castiel, they could meet somewhere in the middle. He knows that isn't going to happen, though. As long as they're trapped in this place, Jack won't be able to let go of that image he holds so tight in his head. It's all he has left of the person who he calls his father, so he can't exactly blame him. Castiel wasn't any better when his own father was called into question.

And look what it got him.

Knowing that doesn't make it sting any less to be dismissed. To have his fears discarded as cruelty. But it's never made any difference to the people he surrounds himself with, so maybe that shouldn't surprise him, either. Jack's learning from the best. As long as he's still walking around and talking, as long as he can still smite or pick up an angel blade, what does it matter, the things he worries about? If he's difficult, discard him like a bad pet.

Jack's parting shot does surprisingly little to harm him.

It's not like he hasn't been compared to Lucifer before.

Castiel says nothing. Mind churning, he turns and gets in his car.