to: everyone(?)

[ordinar]

[The following messages come in sporadically. Some words appear smudged in the recipient's field of vision, as if their eyesight has suddenly failed, or spilled water has blurred the imaginary ink. (Hover over the creepy text for a translation.)]

Lucifer?

I'm probably supposed to be praying to God or whatever right now, but I've gotta be honest, you've been way more reliable. Anyway, I'm, like, pretty fucking bad at ḑ̸͈̒̉ọ̶̈́̽į̴̻̾ṉ̴̢̆g̶͎̕ ̷͔̾̄w̵̝͚̏h̵̫̾̅͜a̶̹̾t̵̜̘́͘ ̴͉͑Ỉ̷̳̍͜'̸̹̊͊ḿ̸͉ͅ ̸̧̛̚s̸͓͇̽u̵̖̿͐p̵̹̹͝p̵̹͊o̸̱̊ś̵̡̬̃e̵̤̲͆̄d̷̖́̚͜ ̷͇̝̒t̶̔ͅó̸̪ͅ.

Lucifer, Lucifer, L̴̛̘̲̙̱̀͒̈́ǘ̶̧͎̦͖̿̑̕c̵̡̖̼̜̤͐̌į̶̱̝̹̬͂f̸̹̑̋e̶̜͒̌r̴̛̰͔̱̖̿̍̚.

If I say it three times, you're supposed to appear. Except I think there's ŝ̷͇͎̥̭͂͂̅u̵̪̣͙͔̽̀͊͂p̶̝̃͒̋͒p̸̡̱͕̉̋͊ò̷̡͉̙̄͆̄ŝ̴͕̠͠ê̵̮̟͎̝͐͊ḋ̸̫̙̼̾̓̇ ̷̦̦̏ť̶̺̙͌͐̏ò̸̩̖̽͘ ̸̣̓̌͐̄b̸͕́̈ḛ̷̄ ̸͖͊̉a̵͕̻̗̖̅̽̉̅ ̶͖̰̈́͒m̷̰̗͓̄̀͆i̵̼̫͜͠r̴̭̣̓r̷̻͐͘͜o̵̬͖͔̣̅̇̉͝r̷̡̟͍͚̃͌̇͝, and I don't have a mirror.

Oh, I lost your knife too. S̷̛̖͖̻̘̹͌̇͂o̷̥̯̒̍͘͜͜ͅr̶͔̈́̾̕r̷͓̩͝y̸̢͇̙̥̽̍͗̚͜.

I don't know where I am, but it's the worst fucking place in the world. Istredd ĭ̷̧̯͚̜̫s̷̤̖̺̝̹̅̈́̕ ̵̧̪͈͔̈́͠h̸͓̋̉͒ē̸̱͓̐͝r̷̘͌͒ĕ̴̡̧̮̲͋ ̸̞̱͈̭̠̀͋t̶̨̼̘̂͒́̅ờ̷͔̰̪̻͉̎̅ǫ̶̗̇̚

Comments

[ordinar]

[Well, it seems that he's collected the whole set. You'd think that meeting an angel would be more miraculous or something.

Even without possessing any prior knowledge of Lucifer's fractured family, he could guess from Castiel's description of Lucifer as his "least favorite brother" that the feeling is probably mutual. Until this moment, Wilhelm didn't realize how deep a sense of loyalty is rooted in him — for the devil, despite everything. (Well, because of everything, really.)

Because, you know how when a friend has a bone to pick with someone, it becomes your bone to pick too? How, without further questions, you decide that you're going to despise that person, as if whatever they've done to your friend was also done to you personally? Yeah, he feels some version of that right now.

But he also realizes that it must have taken a lot for Lucifer to ask his brother for a favor. So for his sake, he'll play nice. Accepting the charred snake with a quiet thanks, Wilhelm shrugs.]

I haven't broken my leg yet or anything.

[He eyes his meal with resignation. It's not the first reptile he's eaten in the last day or so, but no degree of hunger will make it taste any better. Still, he bites into the tough meat of its belly.]

[unwings]

[ He won't take Wilhelm's standoffishness personally. He isn't surprised by it, but nor does he share it. This boy's had the misfortune of extended exposure to Lucifer, the being who perfected manipulation before man ever stumbled clumsily into it. It's hardly his fault. The monotone, robotic disposition Cas operates with isn't specific to this encounter - that's just his dazzling personality.

Lucifer's trademark is a seductive mask of innocence, and he's perfected framing himself as victim of all evils. Anyone who isn't from their world lacks the perspective they'd need to drag themselves out from under his brother's influence. Wilhelm didn't witness the massacre after Lucifer's rise from the cage, what cruelty surfaces with his rage and bitterness, or even at the dawn of man, the horrors of the war he waged against Heaven before Michael caged him. Cas could tell this teenager that Lucifer would peel the skin from his bones if he stood between him and what he wanted badly enough, but nothing he says or shows him will matter. Some things you have to witness to believe.

That hardly means the boy should be left alone to fend for himself in a nightmare like this. Even if Lucifer hadn't asked, Cas would be helping all he could. For perhaps the first time since the dawn of time, their goals aligned. ]

Good. Don't ignore any abrasions or superficial bleeding either. [ Cas goes on, looking the boy over while he eats. No broken bones is good, but not the complete picture. ] Infection would be easy in this setting. Death by septic shock is excruciatingly painful.

[ reaching into his battered coat, be pulls out a primitive knife - a sharpened stone affixed to what's shaped like a dried bone, but laced over tightly with vines. ] Take this. Where are you sheltering?

[ordinar]

[Though his clothes, like Castiel's, have seen better days, they're still holding together all right — no big rents revealing nasty wounds underneath. A visual checkup confirms nothing more severe than scrapes crisscrossing his hands. Wilhelm's eyes fall to these as Castiel describes the risks of infection, and his brow creases in worry.

Still gnawing at the snake, he frees a hand to accept the makeshift knife. If everything weren't complete shit right now, he might find humor in how Castiel inadvertently echoes Lucifer by arming him with a weapon. A lot of good it did him last time. He inspects it grimly before pocketing it.]

Right around here.

[Nothing really makes it a shelter, though, except for the presence of others. He tears off another tough bite of snake meat, flicks a look at Castiel.]

Can angels even die?

[This is half genuine curiosity, half moody snark.]

[unwings]

[ Whether or not the snark registers, or is completely disregarded, is difficult to tell. without a beat, cas answers in the same blank monotone. ]

Yes. [ though, a short, wry exhale does follow. ] Some of us several times over, it seems.

[ knife accepted (they're soldiers at their core, arming people will always be their first instinct), Cas looks to Wilhelm's hands, holding his palms up in a gesture of 'okay, put 'em here, please'. Time to see how much of his healing cas can still tap into.

as for the shelter, well, flat ground right next to the camp fire isn't super optimal with monsters roaming around in the dark, on the ceilings. the stray vines would need to go, and some kind of cliff or overhang, where they can have their backs to a wall, concealed from above, would be better. he'll get to that after dealing with the scrapes. ]

Not ideal. Are there others with you? Do you know who 'Mat' is?

[ordinar]

[Some of us several times over. That gives Wilhelm something to chew over. If he remembers — if he makes it out of here — he'll ask Lucifer about it.

He holds one hand out, palm spread open, but as the other is occupied with the charred snake he's munching on, it will have to wait. From the one hand, Castiel will see that the climb down to the bottom of the cavern was unkind. He'll also see that, despite Wilhelm's best efforts to stay clean — which is pretty much limited to wiping his hands off on his shirt — dirt clings stubbornly to tiny cracks and crevices.]

Yeah, I know Mat. He went off hunting earlier with some others. That's sort of his thing.

[A pause. He frowns at Castiel.]

I'm not stupid enough to go anywhere down here alone.

[unwings]

[ There’s already dirt and muck surrounding the open wounds - not great, and considering he’ll need his hands for just about everything, it’ll be too risky to only bandage them. Not that any water around here would be clean enough to be safe. He’ll have to heal them.

Letting out a slow sigh, Cas shifts to let the back of Wilhelm’s hand rest in his palm, bringing the other up, facing down. Eyes closing, a furrow forms between his brows, Cas’s features twisting in concentration that looks almost painful. A brilliant, white light casts from Castiel’s palm, flicking and weak like a dying light bulb, but Wilhelm will feel a pleasant warmth coursing through his hand, up his arm.

The cuts begin fusing together, even if slowly, while Cas grits his teeth with the effort. Forcing his failing powers isn’t easy, but he can manage at least this smalll amount. They don’t heal over completely, left as light pink, sensitive scars, but the wound’s closed, no scabbing. ]

Wrap those with a cloth to protect the skin from breaking again. The other?

[ Hands still held out, there’s one more of these to patch together. He nods at the information about Mat, files it away. He’ll deal with that once he’s done here. ]

[ordinar]

[His eyes flick between Castiel and the light shimmering around the knot of their hands. In the aftermath of the Nott fires, he'd observed Rhy at work treating the victims with his magic, but Castiel's seems to be a different shade. Wilhelm wonders if, rather than something learned in this world, it's inherent to him.

With a vague mutter of assent, Wilhelm discards the now thoroughly picked over snake carcass and offers his other hand to Castiel.]

Thanks... Do all angels know healing magic?

[Or does the gift get taken back when you get kicked out of heaven? He holds that half of the question on the back of his tongue.]

[unwings]

[ Accepting the next hand, the angel breaths in deep, closes his eyes, and concentrates. It's difficult enough doing this on the sliver of grace remaining, harder still with the pit's oppression smothering it down. ]

Yes. [ He murmurs, frowning deeply as he forces another bright, warm light tingling over Wilhelm's skin; soft, ambient heat like a low crackling hearth, as the wound heals just enough to protect from infection. The light snaps out, and Cas huffs out a sharp exhale, laboring for the next inhale as if out of breath from the effort. ]

Though I've rarely seen Lucifer use it on anyone but himself.

[ He's completely capable. To Castiel's knowledge, there is no un-making of an angel's abilities, and they only vary on levels and strength of Grace. Unless God came down himself (doubtful) to pluck Lucifer's abilities away, he still has all those he was born into. Considering God couldn't be bothered to even cage or cast out Lucifer himself, it's extremely unlikely. Michael, archangel as he is, doesn't have the means to rob Lucifer of those traits. ]

My apologies. It's usually more thorough, and easier.

[ordinar]

[He can see the strain in Castiel's expression, as if his magic is a rock he's trying to squeeze water from. The angel's heavy, uneven breath reminds Wilhelm of when he tries to call on his magic to spark fire, but his anxiety strangles him. Except, for him the flame never comes, and light flickers at Castiel's fingertips anyway. He wonders if it's because magic is suffocated down here, or if it's something else.

He shakes his head at the apology. With his fingers, he traces the newly pink scars.]

It's fine. It's more than I could do. [And all he's got to give in return is a brief, awkward smile.] Thanks.

[unwings]

Of course. [ what's the point of having these powers, even if he's scraping the bottom of the barrel now, if he isn't going to use them when they're all at their greatest need.

Well, child is healed and relatively safe for the moment. cas will keep a close eye on wilhelm, and the other two as the days go on, but for now, there's other matters to handle. he checks over the kid once more, and gives a resolute nod. ]

Good. Geralt and I will be dealing with the ceiling monster now, but if you need help or sustain any other injury, come find me. Alright?

[ castiel's always willing to help, but also, never willing to admit failure to his big brothers, so he'll see to it this boy makes it out of the pit in one piece. ]