February 2022 Test Drive Meme

[reddosmod]

FEBRUARY 2022 TDM

Another month, another test drive meme! Our test drive memes are open to anyone interested - regardless of whether or not you join our game!

All Test Drive Memes are game canon. Players can choose to keep their TDM threads canon or not. TDM threads can be used for AC and can be used as your writing sample for your application.

Our TDMs serve as a way to build into the actual lore and worldbuilding of Deer Country and we strongly encourage everyone to enjoy and participate! Current players are always welcome to pull prompts from the TDM to reference on the Network or bring into logs as well as tag out to new characters top-leveling on the TDM itself.

Characters will always be able to actively die during TDMs as this is an extremely dangerous world. You can still have this be game canon! Check out how character death in Deer Country works here.

If you have any questions about the TDM, please ask down below!

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: Carnival booths at dusk]
[Image Two: Gif of a scantily clad woman walking near a large blinking automatron clown head.]

Prompt Two
[Image One: A giant spider impales small boy in a black silhouette platform game.]
[Image Two: Laughing woman with nothing but a mouth on her face.]

Prompt Three
[Image One: Dice being tossed in slow motion.]
[Image Two: Overgrown mansion in the woods.]

[NAVIGATION]

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A Less Than Typical Arrival

WHEN: Last few days of February into mid-March
WHERE: The Farther Shores/The Boardwalk
CONTENT WARNINGS: Clowns, creepy dolls, extortion?

---

When you arrive, the process is as easy and comfortable as turning from a squid into a Sleeper can ever be. The weather is almost balmy and blossoms bud on the trees. Pink blooms float out like cherry blossoms across the coastline. It is comfortable enough out that you might be tempted to strip down to your shirt. However, you would be the outlier: the people of Trench cover every inch of their skin and wear their gloves. Despite the pleasant weather, there's an ominous feeling and dark clouds over the ocean in the distance.

Oh, don't pay any mind to that! There's a festival going on on the boardwalk. Trenchies beckon Sleepers forward, and they'll find that along with food stalls that offer typical carnival treats (fried dough, corn dogs, etc.) are carnival games of chance. Ring tosses, dart throws, claw grabs. All of the games seem to rely more on luck than skill, and there are gambling tables set aside for people to play against each other.

Among the prizes, Sleepers see familiar items from home, as well as their welcome bag items, such as their Omni. Their welcome bag can also be won, but inside they'll find only their Lamp Friend. All the items usually in the welcome bag can, and by the end of the arrival will, be won by them, but not always for free.

While most games are free to play, some Trenchies may ask for a small vial of blood, or a song, or a joke. Less common are Trenchies who may ask you to work at their business to pay for playing their game. If you're lucky, a kind Waker and/or veteran Sleeper may come by and play for you. However you play (or don't), it feels like an unseen hand is guiding the fortune to ensure that the right items end up in the right hands. The longer you play, the more you regain, the more you feel like someone is watching you.

If you find yourself at the carnival at night, you'll find an edgier crowd, and an energy in the air that inspires a risky kind of fun. You may meet more corrupted and unusual people who greet new arrivals with their idea of a welcome. Nobody is violent, but you may want to be more on guard with your possessions after you regain them. The food and games are the same, but Trenchies are more likely to take advantage of new Sleepers. Costumes that some wear are more risqué and counter-culture. You may find yourself dragged to play a drinking game by a joyful but slightly uncouth looking Trenchie in clown make-up. The prizes to win at the booths that sit next to your own items are unsettling looking but… harmless. Probably.

F.A.Q.

1. Sleepers can identify which Trench item, such as Omni, Lunar Orb etc., is theirs by either a label with their name on it or that presence watching them from behind urging the knowledge into their mind. Suddenly they will just know it is theirs and that someone watching them somehow gave them that knowledge.
   
2. It may be assumed that, regardless of 'how,' the Sleeper's welcome bag items are acquired by the end of their time at the carnival. The Moss King ensures that nobody ends up walking away with the wrong items, ensuring a loss or a gain here and there to manipulate fortune just right. But any number of awkward and fearful possibilities exist in the meantime while you roll the dice!
   
3. There are carnival rides at all hours, but they are limited to: carousel, ferris wheel and House of Mirrors. At night, the House of Mirrors becomes a House of Horrors.

Luck Be a Lady

WHEN: Last few days of February into mid-March
WHERE: All over Trench.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Giant spider, forced combat, creepy mouth face ghost lady

---

[From A SURVIVOR'S GUIDE TO THE UNKOWNS OF TRENCH, written by and added onto by many Arcane Scholars through the centuries and found in the Archives.]

"There are a number of phenomena, plant-life, creatures and entities big, small, incorporeal, corporeal, so on and so forth that have yet to be defined. Are they more Pthumerians, half-Pthumerians, a creation of one, a product of blood pollution? We simply do not know, but that only increases the need for understanding how to survive them when they appear. Yes, many appear benevolent, for now. But many more have their dangers and caveats...
THE LADY OF LUCK
An ironic name to be sure and what is theorized to be a being or phenomena with some sort of connection with the Moss King as it only ever occurs in the beginnings of his designated month, after all. Anyone who experiences a moment of good luck or chooses to take a gamble that pays off will soon find themselves tested by the Lady of Luck. A card will suddenly appear in the hand of the lucky person seemingly out of thin air.

The moment the card is turned around to view its face, the holder's fortunes and fate will shift depending on which letter or symbol on the wheel they look at first, and not all will have an effect. Every year the effects change without repetition, records of each have been lost to time and have no value for the purposes of this guide. The only common advice recorded over the years amounts to one word: win. If you do not, misfortune awaits."

This year's tests by Lady Luck are as follows:

T: Reality distorts around you and anyone within a twenty foot radius is pulled into a cylinder of bright colors. The afflicted are made to dodge giant falling candy and work together to push them into sets of three matching candies until they crush together and eventually there is only one row of piled giant candies. If successful, the cone keeping them in that colorful nightmare will drop and characters will find the candies they crushed were objects in the area at the time. A bag of hard candies replace the card in their hand as a reward. When the candies are sucked on, you will feel energized and gain the ability to float.

A: This time the world shifts to appear two dimensional and black and white, you and everything around you are reduced to a black silhouette. You have to leap from moving platforms, solve puzzles and climb ladders. To get to levels above or below you, you must break through with a leap to punch up or stomp down. The goal is to reach a clear finish line and what drives you forward is a massive black spider. Many of the puzzles and obstacles require two people to solve and get over. When you reach the end, your card will be replaced with a white feather. It's a single use item that can revitalize anyone you place it on. Also, you have indeed been jumping through the roofs and floors of businesses and houses etc.

O: A clear force field forms up around you and the nearest sleeper, anyone else in the area or who is walking by will be able to see you inside this cage. Suddenly music begins to play, dance music to be precise. And a hologram of what you're expected to do appears between you in the large area: dance battle. Literally. You are expected to fight Mortal Kombat style, but most of your moves must be some form of dance move. Lights and holographic dancing figures will appear in the area with you to cheer on your match. You can fight till one person is K.O.ed or killed. Yes, there will be a 'finish him' announcement upon your victory. If you refuse to participate you both lose. The winner's card becomes a gold coin that allows you to charm anyone to do what you wish once a year.

"After each phenomena, some sufferers report seeing a woman in the distance laughing so wide it appears she has nothing but a mouth. She makes no sound and appears only briefly, but she has earned this phenomena the nickname 'Lady Luck'. Many attribute it to her direct influence, but thus far it is not clear whether she is the cause or a symptom. Many theorize that the point of these occurrences is to test whether the individuals affected are worthy of the gift of luck."

F.A.Q.

1. Yes, the first scenario is Candy Crush meets Tetris. I am not sorry. And the feather in the second is in fact a phoenix down.
2. The consequence for losing each of these is exceptionally bad luck for a day or several days depending on player preference. Bad luck can be lethal.

The Moss King's Summer Home

WHEN: Until the Second Week of March
WHERE: Unknown Location outside Trench
CONTENT WARNINGS: Perceived Death by Spontaneous Combustion, Acrophobia, Possible violent death, temporary insanity, cursed items

---

The morning after your first day in Trench, or the morning after new Sleepers arrive, there is a small envelope marked with your name within easy reach. Without realizing it you feel compelled to open it. Three things drop out of the envelope: a six-sided die crafted of what looks deceptively like bone, a small white pill, and a hand-written note.

“Dear friend,

I have had the good fortune of acquiring a new summer home outside of Trench and thought to share my good fortune with the Sleepers of the city. Take the pill, then roll the die to come to me. One visit per Sleeper.

-The Moss King.”

What could go wrong? Then again, given the Moss King's love for life and death gambles, what could go right? The moment you roll the die, before you can see the side it lands on, you explode in a shower of self-immolation and gore, only to be recombined painfully at the Moss King's summer house. The house is shaped like a giant die, and you're in front of the face you rolled. Hope it wasn't a one!

• Rolled a 1: Congratulations, you're crushed under the giant die and wake up in a coffin in the cellar. How much air do you have left and how do you get out? Scream loud!
• Rolled a 2: You're in front of a conservatory. When you walk through the glass door, it's impossible to avoid the itching ivy. You're going to be uncomfortable and scratching for hours...
• Rolled a 3: You're in luck, you're at the front door! When you ring the doorbell, the sound outside is positively deafening and your ears will ring for hours.
• Rolled a 4: Crawling in the master bedroom window like a burglar from the private porch. How uncouth. Even worse is the security measure, which dumps a can of paint on your head, leaving your hair and skin some unholy and nauseating color for the next hour.
• Rolled a 5: The backdoor seems almost harmless, and in fact? It is. Nobody expected you to come in the back door, you barbarian. Better wipe your feet on the floor mat or you may never get the mud out of your shoes. No, seriously, wipe your feet or you'll be slipping and tripping every couple minutes for the next few hours.
• Rolled a 6: Hope you're not afraid of heights, because you're falling from pretty far in the sky and through the roof below. Thankfully the shingles and mattress beneath somehow break your fall into the attic, but it probably hurts like hell.

Once you're inside the house, you find a quaint, strange space. There's a surreal sitting room decorated with flowers and moss hanging down the walls and the smell of lilacs fills the air. Tea and cakes are set out for guests and you seem to have the run of the house. There are spare bedrooms that you can stay the night in and when you wake the next day, you will be in your own bed in Trench feeling extremely well rested.

Around the house, there are strange objects and curiosities, some of them very familiar and some that just seem useful. You can find at least one item from your own world here, something of great significance, or even something that you thought was lost forever. Or instead of an item from home, what catches your eye is one of the small potions that says 'drink me,' or a strange, useful tool that you find in the closet, or even a wabbajack. No, seriously, it could actually be the wabbajack. The Moss King's a bit of a hoarder when it comes to the strange and surreal things people have lost in bets. Almost anything is possible. A note is attached to the item you want with a promise: “Give and take, tit for tat.”

You can take one item from the house, for a price. Should you have been 'unlucky' enough to have rolled a one or a six? You're now in luck, the Moss King considers that suffering a fair trade. If you rolled any other number, you must leave something behind. If you do, your item is yours to keep. If you decide not to make the trade, you can spend your time in this surreal home, surrounded by hoarded knick knacks as long as you care to.

If you choose not to spend the night, leaving the summer home is a lot easier than entering it: just go out the front door... and then walk along a winding path that allegedly leads back to Trench. It looks and feels like it's going to take forever. Space warps here and you can feel it, it's uncomfortable but not painful. Before you know it, the walls of Trench are visible through those woods and you are in Trenchwood again. Be wary, though, monsters lurk and odd mushrooms with varying unpleasant effects such as hallucinations grow along this path home.

F.A.Q.

1. If characters try to enter the house in a different way than the number they rolled, they'll instantly teleport back to their starting point.
2. Despite what the note says, characters can visit the home again by rolling the die, but the pill that was taken the first time can't be replicated.
3. If they decide not to take the pill, or you visit again, they feel like the house keeps shifting around them, tilting and distorting and revealing horrors in the walls, what horrors they see is up to you. The painful process to get there will be even more harrowing and hard on the body as well. But there's benefit to continuing to go back: the objects you can take.
4. Items taken that are not special items from home and invented by you must either be a one-time use item or a weaker benefit multi-use item. One time use items would be for if you want to give your character an especially big benefit like a staff that instant heals lots of people or a big death laser, multi-use items would have lesser abilities such as providing more endurance in a fight or healing small scratches.
5. The more times your character visits and items they take, the more unpredictable the items become. It's on them for ignoring the note saying you may come only once. You may grab an enchanted sword that's supposed to make you stronger on your third visit, but find when you use it, the enchantment will randomly have the opposite effect. Single use items will also be subjected to this drawback and after their one big beneficial use, the item will become cursed and hard to get rid of, always finding its way back to you. What kind of curse your single use item generates is up to the player. Players may also decide on the method it will take to get rid of their cursed object so long as it's not simple.
6. The price characters pay to get each item may be any range of things: another item from home, any object of general value or personal value, a good amount of your blood (enough to make you woozy when you're done), a small but important memory, if you rolled a 6 and were badly injured falling through the roof or rolled a 1 and suffered escaping the coffin.

CODING

Comments

[venatoris]

Shit. A whole decade, huh.

[ That warrants another sip, at the very least. If not two.

God, where do you start? He swallows the whiskey, letting it burn its way down his throat and settle in his belly, warming him up from the inside out. Feels good.

The smile he offers is thin, a little weak. ]

I, uh. Guess we cancel the apocalypse, at least?

[shownrespect]

( He sits, taking another sip, waiting to see if Dean has another question, or anything else to say.

The apocalypse. That one... )

The world goes on.

( The secrets start to pile in his brain, sending Samifer into the cage, Dean and Sam losing Ellen and Jo, the devastation of the horsemen. And that's only from that year. )

[venatoris]

That's a good thing, isn't it?

[ The way Cas says it has him a little skeptical, harnessing snippy comments until he has more information.

If Cas gives it to him, anyway. The angel isn't always the most forthcoming person Dean knows. ]

[shownrespect]

Yes. We don't want the world to end.

( And Lucifer would have. Michael would've. The other Michael would have. Chuck wanted that. Chuck is a big, gaping fact he has to keep to himself. He could never tell a thirty year old Dean that God himself was obsessed enough with him and his brother that he spent years setting up their ultimate ending, and when it seemed like they'd finally turn against the story he was writing, that he unleashed Hell and vowed they'd pay. He can't ever tell him that.

There are other people he wants to talk about, about Jack, and Jody, and Donna. Mary.

No, not Mary.

There is indeed a chasm between them. )

Maybe if you keep asking questions, I can answer to the best of my ability.

( Barring truly blowing his mind. )

[venatoris]

Nah, kinda liked that planet.

[ He regards Cas, lets his gaze trace over his features, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the changes he sees. He's not quite the fresh-faced Jimmy Novak anymore, and Dean wonders what happened to make an angels vessel age. ]

Do I wanna keep asking questions?

[ Or is it all just bad news after bad news? He's pretty sure he knows the answer. ]

[shownrespect]

Only kinda?

( The planet never gave back to Dean, he gave everything for it. He gave himself, he gave his brother. He almost gave Jack. But, Dean indeed did love the planet he was born on. He loved the world, even if Chuck handed him a traumatic hand. )

I know you, you don't like things going unanswered. I can edit. I know what you should know, and I know what would only be cruel to tell you. And I know what is irrelevant to where we are. And I know what you want to ask about most.

( Him. Them. )

You can start with the question that's been lingering on your mind since I kissed you.

[venatoris]

[ People, families - he'd risked his life again and again and again saving them, helping them. Maybe he didn't have Sam's puppy face or bedside manner, but he saw the value in what he did, loved humanity enough to try and save it. ]

You do know me.

[ It's there, lingering in the back of his mind, the questions about them, what they were to one another, if anything. He has a million other ones, of course, but there are so many it's impossible to focus on any one thing except that.

But Dean, for all his thirst for knowledge and facts, is also fantastic at avoidance. ]

What, 'can you do it again'? How'd you know?

[ play it off, play it cool, it's fine. ]

[shownrespect]

Dean.

( He's not denying that Dean might want to, again, nor would he deny him, like he'd ever deny himself. What is he saying, he denied himself for years.

He's not annoyed. Dean has always been keen on avoidance. It's one of his best skills outside of housing an entire burger in two bites. )

I know you didn't feel that way about me. Not then. ( He doesn't know how he feels most recently, he never gave him the chance, and here he is again, deciding for him again. ) The longer an angel is on Earth, the more they experience emotion and learn and gain the capacity for it. I am the Castiel you remember, but from twelve years ago. I've known for the past two years how I've felt. I couldn't voice it, didn't know how to define it, but I knew I felt something deeply, intrinsically for you. I once told your brother that you and I had a profound bond. It only grew.

[venatoris]

What? It's a valid question.

[ Avoidance, yes - but totally valid. ]

Hey, you don't know that--

[ Deciding for people is rude, Castiel. But the angel is on a roll and all Dean can do is let him finish, though there's something decidedly 'sulkish' about his expression and posture, like he's sucked on a lemon.

He folds his arms, lips pursed. ]

Into what? Say it.

[shownrespect]

( Castiel wasn't a being you loved, not when he first pulled Dean out of hell. He didn't understand it, didn't feel it. He worked for his brothers and sisters, under the helm of a distant God. He knows Dean did not love him. Maybe he liked him, maybe he saw him as an ally, but he did not feel how Castiel feels over a decade later.

Deciding may be rude, but he knows when he's right. )

Into love. I love you, Dean.

( There is no Empty darkness awaiting him this time, but it does not feel like his happiest moment, either. It feels strained, pushed, sad even, because they are not who they remember each other to be. )

I am in love you.

[venatoris]

[ It's been dragged out, Cas' heart on a platter, and Dean doesn't know what the fuck to do with it. The kiss had been good, incredible - but it doesn't quite translate into love, not yet. He barely knows Cas, and despite reading about what they'd had, it's still earth shattering to hear.

But God, when is the last time he was told he was loved? The twelfth of never, though he guesses that isn't exactly true. His mom told him when she put him to bed that night a memory so faded he isn't sure if it's fiction or real. Hearing it now, though, it makes an unfamiliar emotion bubble up in his chest, swelling painfully, heart squeezing and twisting in his chest.

There's a distinct pinprick behind his eyes that he's horrified to recognize as the beginnings of tears, and he picks his glass up and empties the contents down his throat, swallowing long and hard, enough to play off whatever the fuck is happening behind his eyes, Jesus Christ.

He sits the glass down and coughs, wipes his face -- see? just the whiskey -- and doesn't move to refill it yet. ]

W-what, um. And, we, we were a couple?

[shownrespect]

( Yeah, Castiel, for all he's good at and for as honest as he feels he has to be, is living with the guilt of what he's done, and the guilt of the decisions he continuously made without Dean. Again, he's putting a decision he's made in Dean's lap, unaware of the outcome or how Dean will react. Maybe if he hadn't gone through with his declaration in the bunker, it wouldn't spill out of him so haphazardly now. )

No, I'd just finished telling you the same thing, back where I'm from. ( And then he died. ) I don't know what your reaction would have been. We'd never done anything like that before, and bringing your joke back around, I'd like to, again. But, I know what it comes with on my end and I don't want you to carry any responsibility you might put on yourself.

( Again, he decides for Dean. Again, he just unloads the contents of his heart. )

I don't know if I would know how to be a couple. I suppose we spent time together, got on each other's nerves and worked past our rows. Sam might call us an old married couple, though never to our faces.

( And don't get him started on the demon world. Or the angels. )

I'm sorry if my being so blunt puts us into an awkward place. It wasn't my intention. The more I let myself feel anything, the harder it is to hold any of it back and before coming here I... let it all go. All of it.

( And since it feels like it never reached its' destination, since Dean never reacted, just let himself be shoved aside... Castiel said it all over again. Albeit much less profound and more succinctly. )

I'm sorry.

[venatoris]

[ Oh, fuck. That's a lot. That's a whole lot. He works his jaw, swallows, fidgets in his seat before pouring himself another three fingers worth of liquor, glass of the bottle clinking against crystal. Gonna be one of those nights, he guesses.

Does it have to be? Does he have to drink himself into a liquor fueled freakout? Does he need to spiral down the drain?

Probably.

Thing is, they've drawn each other into this vortex, this black hole of gravity so damn strong neither can escape. They butt heads, they argue, they experience life in fundamentally different ways - Cas as angelic immortal, Dean as a mere human being. They're fundamentally different, sure - but there's something there, magnets that keep jerking them together.

There's something to be said for humanity, though. For all that Dean keeps saying I'm just some guy, I'm just a human, for as weak and wretched as it all may be, for all that angels and demons think of them as lesser, pathetic beings - there are always pieces of beauty floating in the breeze, just like the dust motes dancing in sunlight. When the weight of the world is heavy and on the verge of collapse, it pays to remember the things humans are capable of; music, friendship, undying loyalty, love. Love, a fools errand, the thing Shakespeare wrote sonnets about and people kill each other over.

He's been in one relationship his entire life, and it had ended badly, with Dean dumped and heartbroken, leaving town without ever breathing a word about her to anyone else. He'd opened up, told her things he'd never told anyone else, and ended up rejected, heart shredded, pride wounded. He hadn't been loved then, not really. He's not even sure he knows how to give that piece of himself over, and when he looks up at Cas his expression is vulnerable, raw, terrified like a wounded animal. ]

Don't...apologize.

[ He fidgets again, unsure how to take I don't know if I would know how to be a couple, and drops his head to stare at the wood of the table, rubbing a finger over an imaginary scratch. ]

What do you want?

[shownrespect]

( that look is not something Castiel wanted to incite. if anything, he would never want Dean hurt, uncomfortable, or scared. he's scared Dean in the past because of his actions, because of what he thought was impartiality and the only thing he could do at the time, but never like this. he's never gotten under his skin so viscerally. he finds himself more uncomfortable now, regretting even saying anything. what could he have expected the outcome to be? he remembers dean's closed heart and the trauma he'd carried for a year.

he still doesn't know what context Dean is working from. if Ruby has just betrayed them, if he's lost Jo or Ellen. if he discovered Gabriel. there are so many tragedies he lives through in that year alone. )

I want you safe. I want you as close to happy as you can be. I want to live here, if you'll still have me. I wouldn't expect us to start where I left off, because you haven't experienced what's to come in any form. I don't want you to try to meet me in the middle because as far as we're concerned, there is probably too much in the middle. ( Like an ocean's length. ) I want to be here for you, and for you to know I am here in whatever capacity you need me. Though, I believe I'll be the one learning from you. I'd like to read your journals, but if that's too personal, I'll understand why you might want to keep them to yourself. I hear now that they are yours and I wouldn't ask you to compromise your own confidence.

( What else does he want? )

I want you to know, that I never want anything to happen to you, but that it is in the very nature of who we are, that we act and intervene and put ourselves in harms way for those we love. So, I will be here beside you. Beside any decisions or mistakes or actions you take. And I'm not trying to imply you make only mistakes, because I have made my fair share believing I was doing the right thing. It's why we're so similar. We're stubborn and we believe in what we believe in. And that's why we fight.

( And why they overcome their fights. )

I want you to do whatever you need to do and be whoever you need to be.

( And he never wants Dean to find out about Castiel sacrificing himself for him, and that being the reason he never got an answer. )

[venatoris]

[ Cant start where they left off, no. Cas says not in the middle either, because there's still things to come, things Dean needs to experience. Things that he doesn't particularly want to experience; he's experienced enough, done enough, sacrificed enough, but it's always on him isn't it, it's always on him to fix shit, make it better, save the world or die trying maybe if someone would just let him--

He takes a breath, still listening, taking it in. What does he care if Cas reads his journals, it's not like he wrote all that mushy shit, right? Right. It was some endverse version of himself pontificating about his druggie angel Cas, then some other version of the two of them that were just as involved, remembered all those things from the end and somehow ended up together again, despite it all.

Wasn't him. ]

So you just -- want to be friends, basically. Gotcha.

[ That's it, that's what Dean's getting from all that. It's like the weirdest let down slash rejection ever, though he guesses it probably isn't exactly what Cas means. It's kinda how Dean takes it, though. It's how it feels. It's an answer that isn't an answer, because be all that you can be is army bullshit propaganda, and that's what Cas is feeding him.

They should've just kept kissing. This is why Dean hates talking. ]

Sure. You got it.

[shownrespect]

Dean, we could never be just friends. Any iteration of us. ( Setting aside all of Chuck's rhetoric. ) I'm not -- rejecting you. Or breaking up with you. We were never together. But, I also don't want to put some lofty expectation of what we could be on your shoulders. What I want is for you to get to know me, this me, and I want to be here for you. And, selfishly, I want to do what we did before, but, I can't in good conscious ask you to go with everything, just because it's what I want.

( But, he knows how it sounds, how he feels like he already pricked the bubble holding the two of them so closely together, at odds, but in the same place.

He's established a separate bubble and it feels like it's floating further away. )

Say my answer was, I want to make a real go of it. I want to see if we can make this work, is that what you wanted to hear? How would that be fair to you? I love you but I would never want to burden you. And I don't want to hurt you.

[venatoris]

[ He regards Cas with a tight expression, struggling (and failing) to keep his feelings off his face, his heart away from his sleeve. He wishes he had his jacket on, to wrap further around him, another layer between his body and the rest of the word. Flannel and plaid and workshirts are his shields, his armor against the world. ]

Alright. [ he says, clearing his throat a little, shifting in his chair. There's emotion still swelling in his chest, threatening to burst, and he bites at it, fights it back, shoves it down hard. It's just -- safer, that way. For both of them. Nothing good ever lasts, his journals are clear evidence of that. Same shit as back home. On what planet does he ever get what he wants? Not Earth, not this one - wherever the hell it is. Why start now? Hell, Dean doesn't even know what the hell he wants.

(he does, a little - he wants to be loved, to be needed, for someone who loves him to need him)

He keeps rubbing at the table, smoothing away nonexistent smudges, staring hard at it, keeping his voice level. ]

You're allowed to say what you want. That's all I'm saying. [ a pause; ] You got all wordy after a decade, huh.

[shownrespect]

For the record, you're also allowed to say what you want, not that this changes. You usually come in at least thirty more words a minute.

( What's he's gotten is sassy and sarcastic, and while his biting dryness usually cracks a smile on Dean's face, he's not sure how Dean will react this time around. But, that underlying annoyance also gives way to fondness. On both sides. )

I also take my apology back, since you gave it back to me.

( He still hasn't taken another sip, but, it feels nice to be here, even in the midst of Dean's indignance. )

[venatoris]

Yeah, well. I am who I am.

[ Sassy indeed. It does pull the faintest hint of a smile out of Dean, but he's still mulling over words, trying to figure out where the pieces fit, if they'll ever fit, if all he'll be left with is empty hands and a pipedream. ]

We should've just kept kissing.

[ It's muttered under his breath as he picks up his glass again to take a swallow. ]

You don't have anything to be sorry for.

[shownrespect]

You were never the type for PDA.

( That he remembers, but he makes the commentary, anyway. As much as Dean wants this conversation to end, Cas doesn't know what will come of Dean when it does, so, he stays put.

He's always looked after him, may even pop into his bedroom while he's sleeping tonight, just to make sure he's okay. He will definitely spend his sleeplessness touring this new house of Dean's. )

[venatoris]

Never had a reason to do it.

[ He'd kissed in bars, he'd manly hugged his friends and family in times of crisis and when he'd been too caught up in the moment to think about it otherwise. It was his old man's influence, the offhanded disdain for physical affection. He shouldn't need any such reassurances, he's a man, he's a Winchester, and Winchesters aren't weak. They don't need someone babying them, holding their hand, tucking them in.

Idly, he rubs his his palm along his denim clad thigh, wiping his clammy hand without thinking on it. Who'd wanna hold his hand, anyway? Stupid. ]

You should pick a room. Claire took the attic.

[shownrespect]

Claire Novak?

( This is news to him, but he also knows this isn't home, so he half expects a new Claire to be mentioned, one he's never mentioned, but he asks, anyway. He makes note of Dean's skittishness, his silence, the stewing Cas can see under the surface. )

[venatoris]

Mouthy blond, about yay high?

[ He gestures a little, movements tight, stiff. Make the conversation about something else, anything else, before he explodes. ]

Showed up demanding entry, told me about myself, then nested in the attic bedroom.

[shownrespect]

Claire is here, too.

( He'll learn this in person, later. )

Sam and you, and at one time me, we tried to take her under our wing. She ended up finding family in a sheriff friend of yours. You're like an uncle to her.

[venatoris]

Uh huh. Yeah -- Jody, I guess. She mentioned.

[ He's not sure how he feels about that either, but having Cas' verification is nice. Not that he doesn't believe Claire, but, you know. A lot of people have been saying they know him lately. It's freaking him out. ]