For lastvoyages: Spam for Greenhouse

[can_has_vodka]

 [A pair of Rhode Island Red chickens in bright blue cloth diapers march around the floor of the greenhouse. Arkady sits just under the rotunda in Lotus. The lights are dimmed to night-cycle, but soft purple light emanates--from her, for she is deep in meditation, her mind expanded to take in the overwhelming panorama of possible futures and worlds spread ahead of them. On the Barge, there have been so many possibilities that predicting the future is almost impossible, but that is no excuse to miss practice. She loves the changes to the greenhouse, and though she can't quite enjoy them in her current state, she's happy enough that they will be there when she opens her eyes.]

[She senses the minds on the Deck and withdraws slightly, dodging away from investigating their thoughts. She gets lonely sometimes, stuck within the confines of his own mind, but it is a small price to pay for the opportunities here.]

Comments

[trenchcoatedly]

[He considers the futures bit for apparently a long time, half-aching to ask about now, about Dean, about everything.]

Can you.. see them with any specificity?

[can_has_vodka]

If given something to focus on I can try until I get it. Sometimes it's just bits of things, sometimes I get a vague view of what's most likely to happen.

[trenchcoatedly]

Would you...... could you look at something, for me?

[can_has_vodka]

Of course, love. It's part of what I'm here for. What's the trouble?

[trenchcoatedly]

I have a friend, back home. His name is Dean Winchester. I... don't know what has happened to him, in my absence. He has somewhat of a penchant for trouble. Could you... see him?

[There's a tinge of hopefulness in his voice.]

[can_has_vodka]

Oh, one person? Of course. I'll need to know a bit about him to focus in on him, but I'd love to be of help.

[trenchcoatedly]

What do you need to know? There's one of him from my past walking around on this ship - he has brown hair and brown eyes and broad shoulders, and tends to scowl. He's doubtful and hurt because his destiny is greater than he understands, and painful for him. He values his independence and his family.

[He looks away, considering, maybe lost in thought. Then he bites his lip and returns back to Arkaday's gaze.]

Will that be helpful? I'm sorry I don't have a picture of him.

[can_has_vodka]

It is something to begin with. I will start my meditations on him given that. Is there anything in particular that I should look for? I want to help you. You have two hard jobs at once and this...I could be useful looking into.

[trenchcoatedly]

Dean has a brother, Sam. I....I hurt Sam, very badly, before I came here. Sam has long hair and gentle eyes, and is very tall. He...

[Castiel licks his lips, stares at the ground ant looks away. He isn't exactly sure how to phrase this.]

He bears many, many deep scars from hell, from the claws of the devil himself. I....I just hope he's all right. That I.. that what I did to him isn't.....

[He closes his eyes and steadies himself.]

I simply hope I haven't erred too badly.

[can_has_vodka]

Castiel...I will look, I promise, and I'll tell you what I find. But one of the things I must tell you and make sure you understand first is that what I see? It is not something you're hurtling helplessly toward. People can steer their destinies. In large part, anyway.

[trenchcoatedly]

Yes, I've become aware that destiny can be changed. But destiny is a long series of events, a change of causes, and people, and effects. What I may have done... what may have happened.... this is not a destiny. It would be a direct result of my actions.

[can_has_vodka]

[She's worried. But determined to help.] Even if you've done wrong I'm sure there's some way to fix it. But...let us have a look down your timeline and see what we can see...

[She settles back into lotus and closes her eyes.]

[trenchcoatedly]

I hope.

[He's patient, but anxious.]

[can_has_vodka]

[She twitches slightly, and her lips pull into a faint frown. There is darkness...a journey into darkness. She follows it down....and shudders. Tears leak down her cheeks and she winces with sudden violence.]

[trenchcoatedly]

No....

[His fists clench, power surging around him - a low rumble of thunder from nowhere, the darkening of the greenhouse lights, flowers moving with invisible wind.]

No, what is it? What have I done?

[can_has_vodka]

[She feels her mouth open and her lips move, and hears her voice vaguely from a great distance, telling him. She wants to stop the flow of words but she can't, and so she cries for both of them.]

[trenchcoatedly]

[He draws his face into his hands, body bowed. How could he do this? To Sam? Who believed him to the end, who was his friend, who sacrificed himself? And he---]

[A bolt of lightening strikes the greenhouse and, inexplicably, it begins to thunderstom outside the building.]

[can_has_vodka]

[She hears the racket from far away even as her droning voice breaks up into whispers of maybes, possibilities. Tiny scraps of hope for how to fix this horrible situation. But meanwhile her tears flow freely, and the chickens huddle in her lap for comfort.]

[trenchcoatedly]

[It's thunderstorming outside the ship. Hard to even know if he can hear her anymore, wrapped warmly in his own guilt. He must - after a few minutes of downpour, the rain lessens, although he doesn't stop staring at the ground, unblinking, hating himself; there's definitely a static around him, power radiating. There aren't words in any language to describe how he feels right now. Such a fool.]

[can_has_vodka]

[She comes back to herself, tears still in her eyes, and reaches for him, then drops her hand.]

There must be a way to help fix this.

[trenchcoatedly]

Why did I... How could I? Sam, you....and I...

[The air around him is getting thicker and heavier as he steams. He stares at the ground, uncomprehendingly. Then, with the sound of wingbeats, he's gone along with the storm, the lightening, and the static.]