[He moves easily among them, not bothered by anyone as he watches the swirling lights of the carnival with the open pleasure of a person untroubled by long or complex thoughts. Or driven mad by such. He's not much to look at in his shabby trench and cheap suit beneath it. There isn't anyone in particular he seems to be looking for until something few others can see tugs at the tail of his coat.]
Oh. Yes.
[How long had Castiel been gone? Damn if he knows. Time had turned into a tricky thing that he didn't bother to keep track of much. Sure, the Ringmaster would probably be miffed at him, but these things happened, and he would deal with it. Whatever the invisible thing is at his side, there's no fear in Castiel's face as he slips the ragged backpack off his shoulder and offers it to the creature.]
It wasn't where she said. Something else had found and taken what she wanted. It might come looking for it later. Losing that made it very upset. Even a candybar didn't make it happy.
[He nods to empty air, the backpack vanishing in a swirl of shadows along with the invisible messenger. That leaves him free to enjoy the carnival once again, of being home. Now all he has to do is remember which trailer he lives in. Oh well. He has all night for that. He passes by a popcorn vendor and a box of the sweet kettle corn is in his hands. Paying for it doesn't occur to him anymore than simply taking it did. He wanted it, so he had it.]
[He stops near the games, looking left and then right. This looks a little more familiar. His trailer had to be around here somewhere. After opening a few doors to see if it is, he wanders down the avenue of games to look for someone he knows... or far more likely, might know him. Memory isn't exactly one of Castiel's big points. Or so he says.]
[Location: The Big Top]
[A carnival where the inhabitants were, in some ways, prisoners of their own contracts may not have been where one expected to find an angel, but for Castiel, it is perfect. No demon, angel or Leviathan intent on tearing him apart would dare venture into a place where another being controlled all aspects of reality. There's the added bonus of him being able to go where others could not, to pick up forgotten items or things that the carnival needed. Few places were beyond Castiel's bounds when the order comes down that something is needed.]
[And on the flipside of matters, in his pacifist state, there are few conflicts he can run into. Being outcast, no one much is looking for him either except perhaps a pair of brother hunters. But even the Winchesters or Crowley showing themselves here is next to impossible. He doesn't spare many thoughts for Michael, Gabriel or Lucifer. His older brothers wouldn't bother themselves.]
[That's part of the reason that Castiel is comfortable and starry-eyed at the performances going on under the Big Top. This is home. He claps and laughs along with the rest of the audience as if he were some rube instead of one of the staff. It might help one of the others later for all Castiel knows. It isn't until someone calls him 'Jimmy' that he even thinks about it. Jimmy is a set of clothes he's worn for so long that he doesn't think about it. Jimmy himself fell silent and died as far as Castiel knows back when he holy Molotov cocktailed Michael and God brought him back after Lucifer killed him.]
That was wonderful. Did you see?
[Outside the Mirror Maze : Miscellaneous Right]
[The mirror maze is one of the places that Castiel avoids on general purpose. With the madness infecting his mind, truth from lie is hard enough to distinguish. Throwing in the added evil double bit isn't something he relishes. Today, he waits outside. More than a few stumble out upset or angry at what awaits them inside. His job is a simple one to comfort and reassure those who venture in that all they saw was inside their own mind.]
[Those wanting to stay or sign a contract? Well, that's another story and not for an angel to do. More than a few wait in the wings (pun intended) to scoop them up.]
Would you like a peanut? [Gently enough he asks, offering the bag of salted or honey roaster, whatever they desire, to anyone willing to listen to him.] Are you all right?
Castiel | Supernatural | Supervisor - Acquisitioner
[He moves easily among them, not bothered by anyone as he watches the swirling lights of the carnival with the open pleasure of a person untroubled by long or complex thoughts. Or driven mad by such. He's not much to look at in his shabby trench and cheap suit beneath it. There isn't anyone in particular he seems to be looking for until something few others can see tugs at the tail of his coat.]
Oh. Yes.
[How long had Castiel been gone? Damn if he knows. Time had turned into a tricky thing that he didn't bother to keep track of much. Sure, the Ringmaster would probably be miffed at him, but these things happened, and he would deal with it. Whatever the invisible thing is at his side, there's no fear in Castiel's face as he slips the ragged backpack off his shoulder and offers it to the creature.]
It wasn't where she said. Something else had found and taken what she wanted. It might come looking for it later. Losing that made it very upset. Even a candybar didn't make it happy.
[He nods to empty air, the backpack vanishing in a swirl of shadows along with the invisible messenger. That leaves him free to enjoy the carnival once again, of being home. Now all he has to do is remember which trailer he lives in. Oh well. He has all night for that. He passes by a popcorn vendor and a box of the sweet kettle corn is in his hands. Paying for it doesn't occur to him anymore than simply taking it did. He wanted it, so he had it.]
[He stops near the games, looking left and then right. This looks a little more familiar. His trailer had to be around here somewhere. After opening a few doors to see if it is, he wanders down the avenue of games to look for someone he knows... or far more likely, might know him. Memory isn't exactly one of Castiel's big points. Or so he says.]
[Location: The Big Top]
[A carnival where the inhabitants were, in some ways, prisoners of their own contracts may not have been where one expected to find an angel, but for Castiel, it is perfect. No demon, angel or Leviathan intent on tearing him apart would dare venture into a place where another being controlled all aspects of reality. There's the added bonus of him being able to go where others could not, to pick up forgotten items or things that the carnival needed. Few places were beyond Castiel's bounds when the order comes down that something is needed.]
[And on the flipside of matters, in his pacifist state, there are few conflicts he can run into. Being outcast, no one much is looking for him either except perhaps a pair of brother hunters. But even the Winchesters or Crowley showing themselves here is next to impossible. He doesn't spare many thoughts for Michael, Gabriel or Lucifer. His older brothers wouldn't bother themselves.]
[That's part of the reason that Castiel is comfortable and starry-eyed at the performances going on under the Big Top. This is home. He claps and laughs along with the rest of the audience as if he were some rube instead of one of the staff. It might help one of the others later for all Castiel knows. It isn't until someone calls him 'Jimmy' that he even thinks about it. Jimmy is a set of clothes he's worn for so long that he doesn't think about it. Jimmy himself fell silent and died as far as Castiel knows back when he holy Molotov cocktailed Michael and God brought him back after Lucifer killed him.]
That was wonderful. Did you see?
[Outside the Mirror Maze : Miscellaneous Right]
[The mirror maze is one of the places that Castiel avoids on general purpose. With the madness infecting his mind, truth from lie is hard enough to distinguish. Throwing in the added evil double bit isn't something he relishes. Today, he waits outside. More than a few stumble out upset or angry at what awaits them inside. His job is a simple one to comfort and reassure those who venture in that all they saw was inside their own mind.]
[Those wanting to stay or sign a contract? Well, that's another story and not for an angel to do. More than a few wait in the wings (pun intended) to scoop them up.]
Would you like a peanut? [Gently enough he asks, offering the bag of salted or honey roaster, whatever they desire, to anyone willing to listen to him.] Are you all right?