[ peter tends to go slightly stir-crazy without anything to occupy him. in general, beacon's been difficult in that sense — he'd always known he uses spider-man as a means to blow off steam and energy, but he'd never quite acknowledged how much.
in beacon, he hasn't had that — sure, he's taken the opportunity to explore the town and their surroundings as and when he can, but it's not quite the same. it's not that he wishes for someone or something to do something that requires, say, being punched, but he — kind of does. he's antsy and without a necessarily productive way to burn off energy and emotions.
the blizzard only makes it worse — the invincible isn't a terrible place to be, all considered, but it is only four walls. he doesn't drink, which takes away one thing to do and leaves him with not a lot, in all honesty. he has a handful of books, things he's read and re-read time and time again.
and again, thanks to the blizzard, he's not exactly expecting company. ]
—Cas? [ a mixture of surprise and bemusement then, as he opens the door. a glance at the food — the smells pretty unmistakable, although it's punctuated by the thought of 'where did the meat come from?', then at castiel, and then— ] What are you doing here?
[ The nickname is familiar, though Peter being the one to use it isn't. Castiel hasn't offered it to anyone here - he's admittedly not used to doing so. He's always introduced himself as Castiel, and tolerated the shortening of his name with exasperation at first - he'd admittedly assumed Dean to have trouble pronouncing 'Castiel'. The nickname has since become just that - an affectionate name bestowed upon him. Castiel is his name. Cas, in many ways, is who he's become.
There's a softening of Castiel's expression. Not so much as a smile, but something akin to it that's more in the eyes than anywhere else. ]
I've recently learned that bringing food is on the one hand an expression of care and goodwill, and on the other hand a socially acceptable excuse to check up on people that is seldom refused and requires no prior permission to be granted. So I'm bringing you food.
[ He holds up the bag after a moment, as if to make very sure Peter understands that the food is in the bag. ]
[ nicknames come naturally to peter — they're an easy show of friendship and familiarity, most frequently meant with affection or something close to it, sometimes meant mockingly, but the
I've recently learned, castiel says, and peter seems to pause slightly: it's occurred to him, in fits and starts, to wonder how familiar (or not) castiel is with humanity, to wonder about why. he knows thor, he's not unfamiliar with the concept of divinity, with the concept of god or god-like beings being culture-shocked, for lack of a better word. (he wonders, momentarily, what castiel would make of thor, and loki, and asgard at large.)
but then he clarifies, and peter lets out a laugh— ] So you're bribing me. All I'm saying is that whoever taught you that probably had their best interests in heart, [ he answers, holding the door open a little wider and waving at the room in lieu of invitation. a breath of a pause, a quirk of his lips, then: ] —They weren't wrong, though.
[ Castiel briefly flicks his eyes past Peter, further into the room, while shifting the bag of food from his own grasp into Peter's.]
I doubt Aziraphale dispenses soup for his personal gain.
[ And with a rustle of wings, Castiel is no longer outside the room in front of Peter, but rather behind him and inside.
People assume he invades personal space, stares too much and speaks blunt, uncomfortable things because he's clueless, but truthfully, Castiel does to a degree relish in reminding humans of being Other. It's not a proof of superiority, but a subtle reminder that he's not quite human, not quite beholden to the same standards.
Plus, it can be marvelously entertain and enlightening to push buttons and see the reactions, if there are any. ]
I hope the style of bribe is appropriate, then. A good friend of mine can be swayed with pie no matter how disagreeable he chooses to be.
[ peter's annoyance and frustration towards aziraphale has lessened as time has gone on, the more that the incident with the ferry has faded into memory. still, that doesn't mean peter doesn't scoff at the thought of aziraphale dispensing soup; the brief distraction also means that peter's wholly, utterly startled by castiel appearing quite suddenly behind him.
he yells.
it's an exclamation, more than anything — a noise that amounts almost entirely to "GUH". suddenly, he thinks he knows how it feels when people look up and see him unexpectedly on their ceiling or against a wall, and—
yeah, okay, he gets it. not for the first time, he gets it.
he holds the food up, the corners of his lips quirking upwards into a quick, brief smile. ] I take it back. This was a pre-emptive apology for the heart attack you just gave me, right?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Action (backdated, near the end of the blizzard)
Who could possibly resist that delivery on such a cold, cold day.
Brought to Peter by an angel who looks maybe a touch pale and drawn, and whose lantern is notably dimmer than it should be. ]
no subject
in beacon, he hasn't had that — sure, he's taken the opportunity to explore the town and their surroundings as and when he can, but it's not quite the same. it's not that he wishes for someone or something to do something that requires, say, being punched, but he — kind of does. he's antsy and without a necessarily productive way to burn off energy and emotions.
the blizzard only makes it worse — the invincible isn't a terrible place to be, all considered, but it is only four walls. he doesn't drink, which takes away one thing to do and leaves him with not a lot, in all honesty. he has a handful of books, things he's read and re-read time and time again.
and again, thanks to the blizzard, he's not exactly expecting company. ]
—Cas? [ a mixture of surprise and bemusement then, as he opens the door. a glance at the food — the smells pretty unmistakable, although it's punctuated by the thought of 'where did the meat come from?', then at castiel, and then— ] What are you doing here?
[ wait, that didn't come out quite as intended. ]
no subject
There's a softening of Castiel's expression. Not so much as a smile, but something akin to it that's more in the eyes than anywhere else. ]
I've recently learned that bringing food is on the one hand an expression of care and goodwill, and on the other hand a socially acceptable excuse to check up on people that is seldom refused and requires no prior permission to be granted. So I'm bringing you food.
[ He holds up the bag after a moment, as if to make very sure Peter understands that the food is in the bag. ]
no subject
I've recently learned, castiel says, and peter seems to pause slightly: it's occurred to him, in fits and starts, to wonder how familiar (or not) castiel is with humanity, to wonder about why. he knows thor, he's not unfamiliar with the concept of divinity, with the concept of god or god-like beings being culture-shocked, for lack of a better word. (he wonders, momentarily, what castiel would make of thor, and loki, and asgard at large.)
but then he clarifies, and peter lets out a laugh— ] So you're bribing me. All I'm saying is that whoever taught you that probably had their best interests in heart, [ he answers, holding the door open a little wider and waving at the room in lieu of invitation. a breath of a pause, a quirk of his lips, then: ] —They weren't wrong, though.
no subject
I doubt Aziraphale dispenses soup for his personal gain.
[ And with a rustle of wings, Castiel is no longer outside the room in front of Peter, but rather behind him and inside.
People assume he invades personal space, stares too much and speaks blunt, uncomfortable things because he's clueless, but truthfully, Castiel does to a degree relish in reminding humans of being Other. It's not a proof of superiority, but a subtle reminder that he's not quite human, not quite beholden to the same standards.
Plus, it can be marvelously entertain and enlightening to push buttons and see the reactions, if there are any. ]
I hope the style of bribe is appropriate, then. A good friend of mine can be swayed with pie no matter how disagreeable he chooses to be.
no subject
he yells.
it's an exclamation, more than anything — a noise that amounts almost entirely to "GUH". suddenly, he thinks he knows how it feels when people look up and see him unexpectedly on their ceiling or against a wall, and—
yeah, okay, he gets it. not for the first time, he gets it.
he holds the food up, the corners of his lips quirking upwards into a quick, brief smile. ] I take it back. This was a pre-emptive apology for the heart attack you just gave me, right?