sirenspull | 14 [Video]

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14 [Video]

[The feed crackles on in the Darkness, the usual growls and other eerie noises of night at Siren's Port conspicuously absent in the area. It takes a moment for Castiel's image to become clear on the screen, almost melding out of the dark, expression smoothly neutral except for the faint hint of a smirk that looks completely out of place on his usually serious face.

His eyes are dark in the dim lighting, endless and like staring into an abyss, and even across the electronic feed the sense of wrongness is readily apparent.]

So I find myself here once more.

[His voice is soft, calm, almost uncaring, as if showing up in the Port again is a curiosity and nothing more. Then he smiles.]

It seems a good place to begin.

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You're back. ...gonna sound dumb here, but begin what?

My work.

[It's gentle, explanatory, despite being anything but.]

[Crowley feels it before the feed begins.

The darkness causes him to bolt upward, the bedroom door slamming shut. Sigils burn into the walls, the paint burning away as Crowley snaps his fingers. The Hellhounds immediately press themselves into the floor, Growley's fur rippling -- and it is only once Crowley is barricaded that he takes the time to sit on his (their) bed and stare at the NV.

Of course life could never be simple and easy. Of course Eve would show up and Castiel would return as this bastardized thing. Everything Crowley swore would never happen, in front of him. And for a moment, Crowley could only stare before he threw the NV against his wall so hard that it cracked.]

Your work. That's pretty vague, you know details are your friend. No need to shun them.

Edited 2012-11-20 03:26 (UTC)

[But when he appears on video, he is seated in a chair, completely calm and collected, a glass of scotch in hand.]

Someone had too much for dinner.

Crowley.

[The greeting is as calm as anything else, but there's a hint of something under it. What that might be, however, is impossible to place.]

It's good to see you.

It will all become clear soon enough.

[A pause, so he can smile to himself.]

God works in mysterious ways.

I'm on the edge of my seat. [His tone is flat, deadpan but he's watching this post.] You got a little more expressive compared to before.

[The thought turns his stomach, but he keeps an even expression.]

Is that so?

[Crowley settles back into his chair.]

Happy enough to see me that you'll behave?

[ He does not like the look of your usually stupid face, mister. ]

What are you doing now?

I'm not doing anything wrong.

[So he has no reason to 'behave' and it's adorable that anyone thinks he might do so anyway.]

I have no reason to hide.

[His control over his emotions, his expressions, his reactions, they're all ingrained in him over thousands and thousands of years, and the penalties for not doing so stuck with him even at the Port, where he's out of their reach. But he has no reason to fear, here; he can and will do whatever he likes.]

What's right.

[There's no trace of the usual hesitancy and fear he had when talking to Jesse before.]

Why did you hide it before? [To hide is a weird term to use when it came to expressions. He'd heard it before but out of his own mouth.]

Edited 2012-11-20 03:47 (UTC)

That's of no consequence, nor is it of import.

[Right now, he has work to do, after all.]

[ You still sound stupid, Castiel, you are not fooling this Antichrist. ]

That's a little vague.

Kitten.

[It's said quietly, almost imploringly.]

Your plans are going to make me extraordinarily unhappy. And when I'm unhappy, I tend to take it out on the people I like.

[ Waves crash in the background, the only sound to be heard before a voice finally speaks. ]

You will not succeed.

[ It's a tone rarely used, a feral sort of rumble tainting every word.

The Lion is displeased. ]

Perhaps you should work on that.

[It's so close to how Castiel would've said it any other day, a bantered response to Crowley's less than imposing threats, but there's no spark or anything that makes Castiel himself behind it this time. It's more like he's speaking a language he doesn't understand, responding with the right sounds but no emotion.]

It will all become clear soon enough.

You all take action when it's necessary. That is all I'm doing.

[He states it like it's obvious fact, no tone or concern behind it. An explanation, not a justification, because he doesn't have to justify himself to anyone anymore.]

You are not what you claim to be.

[ Or, more importantly, Whom. ]

[He stares at Castiel for a long moment, fingers curling tightly around his glass.]

I don't want to kill you, kitten.

Give up the souls or I am going to have to.

You can't kill me, Crowley.

[He says it softly, almost sympathetically.]

Nothing can.

I can, and I do.

[He stands, expression now closed off, hardened and serious.]

There is no other compromise. Surrender or die.

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