with death comes honesty. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
comeshonesty) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull2012-09-04 09:34 am
comeshonesty) wrote in sirenspull2012-09-04 09:34 am
video.
[ the video reveals an older man, thin nearly to the point of being skeletal, dressed sharply in a black suit and with his black hair slicked back. he's sitting neatly on a bench somewhere under a street-light, surrounded by the darkness. he seems comfortable enough with it, though-- it suits him.
there's a silver-headed cane propped against the bench beside him, a drink in a paper cup next to his thigh, and he's balling up the foil from what looks to have been some kind of chili-dog. there's no telling how his device is propped up, because it simply seems to be hovering in the air.
he finally glances up at it, black eyes strange and somehow terrifying despite his relatively harmless appearance and mild expression. long fingers curl around the cup and he takes a sip through the straw before seeming to settle on what he wants to say, his words deliberate and tone even, hinting at no particular emotion beyond perhaps the faintest trace of annoyance. ]
Well. So much for the star that I was rather occupied with. How is it I wind up on this dismal little planet so often.
[ he licks his thumb, setting aside the foil. ]
I suppose I could blame it on a certain significant other--[ chuck, he's looking at you. 8| ]--being rather himself. Or the Winchesters, perhaps, given their remarkable lack of self-preservation as a family. Or the little winged children bickering so much.
[ a pause, gaze lifting again, intense and disturbing. ]
Well. Shall we all coexist peacefully, then, or will I need to turn someone over my knee?
there's a silver-headed cane propped against the bench beside him, a drink in a paper cup next to his thigh, and he's balling up the foil from what looks to have been some kind of chili-dog. there's no telling how his device is propped up, because it simply seems to be hovering in the air.
he finally glances up at it, black eyes strange and somehow terrifying despite his relatively harmless appearance and mild expression. long fingers curl around the cup and he takes a sip through the straw before seeming to settle on what he wants to say, his words deliberate and tone even, hinting at no particular emotion beyond perhaps the faintest trace of annoyance. ]
Well. So much for the star that I was rather occupied with. How is it I wind up on this dismal little planet so often.
[ he licks his thumb, setting aside the foil. ]
I suppose I could blame it on a certain significant other--[ chuck, he's looking at you. 8| ]--being rather himself. Or the Winchesters, perhaps, given their remarkable lack of self-preservation as a family. Or the little winged children bickering so much.
[ a pause, gaze lifting again, intense and disturbing. ]
Well. Shall we all coexist peacefully, then, or will I need to turn someone over my knee?
no subject
Ah, Castiel. So good to see that you're behaving yourself.
no subject
I am from an earlier point in time than you.