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(no subject)

Who: Castiel, Meg, and Silva
What: Silva and Meg have unfinished business, and Castiel is just incredibly unfortunate
When: Friday, December 6th
Where: Out in the town, elsewhere
Rating: PG-13 to R for violence and probably language

Castiel managed to escape the Castle that morning with only minimal kissing, and decided it was a good day to go exploring the town a bit more. He had no desire to fight with mistletoe and was overdue to find out more about this place anyway, so even though he really wasn't fond of the cold Castiel had set out to look around.

It's been a few hours and he's stopped at a few shops, found a snack, and continued on to the arts district to check out the church. It's beautiful but doesn't hold his interest for a particularly long time and so he continues, wandering around and just watching people go by, still exploring but more aimlessly than before.

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[Castiel nods again in understanding and appreciation of the offer, feeling just faintly silly again as his own distrustfulness--he had been so afraid of everyone when he'd found himself here at first, and it had been unfounded, and surely this is the same case--and tucks his hands into his jacket to wait. When Silva goes into the house it doesn't take long for Castiel to put his back to the door away, lifting his chin slightly to turn his face up into the wind and close his eyes briefly, enjoying the sensation despite the cold.

He's found that many of the little things he hadn't noticed as an angel are his favorite things about being human.]

[Sorry Castiel, after two minutes of turning your back to the warehouse entrance your getting a baton to the back of your head.

Silva watchs the man fall to the floor, his eyes dart left and right down the street before dragging him indoors.]

Edited 2013-12-05 00:43 (UTC)

[Castiel really doesn't have a chance to register that he's been struck until he's already on the ground and being dragged back into the building, not unconscious but incredibly dazed; he doesn't even feel the pain yet, just dizzy and confused and wondering what had happened and why he's on the ground and moving at the same time.

But once they're inside it's like a light switch flips on and he twists around as he tries to reach for an arm or a weapon, whichever is closer, so he can have leverage to get himself into a position to strike out at Silva. He's not accustomed to fighting while human and without a weapon, but he's still entirely capable and willing to defend himself, and his former calm agreeableness is all gone and replaced by will to fight.]

[Oh Silva see's what your doing there Cas. He strikes out at Castiel's right arm with his baton ... stopping the man for reaching for a nearby pipe. He then follows that up a shot to the head and then to the abdomen while the man is on the ground.

I want you to know that I do feel bad for what I am doing here Mr Castiel ... you see back home I would usually have people to do this type of thing for me.

But alas we must make do with the resources we are given am I right?

Edited 2013-12-05 01:08 (UTC)

[The blow to the arm hurts, and it's like that strike suddenly activates his sense of pain, though he still doesn't really feel the initial blow to the head since it's so closely followed by another. The hit to the abdomen knocks the wind out him and he switches tactics, curling over on the ground and covering his head with his uninjured arm, his injured one tucked against his ribs.

He's had far worse than this and kept fighting, but he knows this body is fragile now and while he could keep resisting it's a much better idea at the moment to feign submission. If he feels like Silva's intending to kill him he'll renew the fighting, but right now it's better to try to take as little damage as he can; he's pretty sure he's wanted alive or he would've been stabbed in the back.

So at the moment it's a waiting game, as he lets himself appear to be cowering on the floor, trying to figure out what Silva wants and what to do in response.]

[He gives another blow to the ribs before pulling out a chair for Castiel to sit on in the centre of the warehouse. He's going to stop hitting the man for now ... he can hardly fulfil his purpose if he's unconscious now can he?

After picking him up and sitting him in the chair he speaks in a gentle tone.]

Now ... you have your journal with you correct?

[He clenches his jaw and tries to control his temper at the strike to the ribs, eyes narrowing and everything about him quiet controlled fury, but he doesn't resist being pulled up to sit in the chair. His head is spinning and being upright isn't very pleasant--he sways a little and has to brace his feet a little wider on the ground so as not to tumble off the chair in either direction--but he focuses on the situation at hand and ignores the pain and the feeling of nausea.

He also ignores the question, turning his face to the side as if the walls of the warehouse are far more interesting than Silva, clearly having been in this situation before. There's nothing new about this to him, and while he's not being actively combative at the moment he is being purposefully unhelpful.]

Edited 2013-12-05 01:46 (UTC)

[Silva pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.]

And you had been so helpful up untill now.

[With one big swing of the baton he rends the man unconscious. Never mind ...there are some things he can do himself.

He searchs Castiels body to find his journal. It doesn't take him long to locate it.

Meg will quickly be finding a get help message and a location from Castiel.

With a sly chuckle he pops the journal back into the mans pocket and hides into the shadows.]

[Fridays at Death Match are always a little busier for whatever reason. Old habits, Meg guesses. Regardless of the reason, it's a predictably busy shift and it's a while before she gets a chance to take a break.

She pours herself a glass of whiskey and pops in the back for a minute to pull a batch of cookies out of the oven and tune in for a few minutes of mistletoe drama if there was any to be heard. Once the cookies are out, she leans casually against the kitchen counter and flips open her journal. The message waiting for her makes her feel like her heart is going to drop out of her chest. The glass of whiskey falls to the floor and shatters.

It's from Castiel's journal, but it's not his writing. She recognizes it as the same hand that wrote the anonymous tip about James' body.

Silva.

Meg didn't know what that psycho could possibly want with Cas, but she knew it couldn't be good. The location listed is on the outskirts of town, and that didn't bode well either.

She rushes out, hurriedly asking Castle to hold down the fort. Though she has the presence of mind to quickly return to her room for weapons and a jacket - more to conceal than for her own personal comfort, it doesn't even cross her mind to ask for help. In retrospect, she'll be kicking herself for not grabbing Kate or Dean like she should have.

It's almost dark by the time she arrives at the specified building, freezing cold and sweating all at the same time from running all the way from the castle.

She circles around once cautiously, finding a locked back door that's far less obvious than the one in the front, and hardly a challenge for her to break into.

Once inside what looks like the storage area of the dimly lit warehouse, she pads silently towards the light coming down the short hallway. She only makes it a few steps before she's frozen to the spot.

No.

Sure enough, when she looks up, there's a devil's trap hovering over her head. This time, her denial is spoken out loud, through gritted teeth.]

NO.

Edited 2013-12-06 00:07 (UTC)

[A strong wind probably could've knocked Castiel out at this point, and a hard swing from the baton definitely does it. He's out before he hits the floor, and doesn't even stir for some time; he awakens for brief moments a few times, from the cold or the pain or noises outside, but then soon lapses into unconsciousness again.

He's still completely out of it by the time Meg arrives, unaware that she's been lured to the building or that she's walked into a devil's trap in one of the back rooms.]

Edited 2013-12-06 00:13 (UTC)

[You may see a figure in a trademark white suit in the distance, appearing out of nowhere Meg. That figure is now walking towards you slowly ... taking his time and enjoying this.]

I'm afraid it is so.

Do you like my drawing? I have never been a good artist. Computers and things of a technological nature have usually been my strong suite.

But when I saw this in a book at the castle library I felt ...inspired. And I knew somebody like you would appreciate it.

[Silva is now face to face with Meg. A smug look of satisfaction flashs across his face.]

Hello again Megan.

Edited 2013-12-06 21:46 (UTC)

[She glares up at the devil's trap for a few moments before shifting her furious gaze to the figure coming towards her. She rages silently at him until he's through speaking.

She laughs at the formal use of a name that had never really been hers to begin with. What a joke. It was a pleasant reminder that he had no fucking idea what he was toying with.

Even if he had done some rudimentary research, she couldn't imagine him coming close to any of the torturers she'd endured before.]

Oh, come on, Silva, we're friends by now, aren't we? It's Meg. I insist.

[He has his hands clasped behind his back. He's slowly pacing around her...watching her closely yet at the same time keeping up his calm playful front.]

Well I am a stickler for formalities but if it makes you more comfortable.

[She laughs dryly.]

Alright, enough. What do you want?

[He claps his hands in delight.]

I am glad you asked.

I thought you and me should have a little bit of a getting to know you session. You seem to know a fair bit about me but you seem to be missing a few minor details.

Like how I dislike people interfering with any personal business of mine.

And to help ... I have brought in a mediator

[He disappears to another room for a few minutes but when returns he appears to be pushing a wheelbarrow with a very beaten and battered Castiel in it.

He tips the body onto the floor. It doe not land delicately.]

Oh dear ... seems our mediator has had something of an accident.

Ah well never mind ... we should probably continue without him.

[Silva now walks over to a table at the far end of this room. It'll be hard to make out what is on it but they look metalic.]

Edited 2013-12-06 23:00 (UTC)

I don't give a crap about you or your personal business. If you're referring to our last little meeting, take it up with the rest of the people who wanted you to rot in a cell.

[When he brings out Cas beaten and bloody in a wheelbarrow, her jaw tightens and she instinctively lunges to rush to his side, only to be knocked back a few steps by the force of the devil's trap.

In a panic, she realizes she shouldn't react any more at all. This was what Crowley had done - used Cas against her. She had to calmly remind herself that this wasn't Crowley, this wasn't hell, and they would be fine.

She supposes Castiel was a fairly obvious target since they could more often than not be seen around the castle and town together. Meg steels herself. No way he is she gonna let this overconfident maggot get under her skin. Her tone is nonchalant.]

Accident, huh? Kinda like what happened to James?

[Her eyes widen a little when she sees the table. What the hell did he think he was doing?]

[ He's eyeing up his instruments ...inspecting them before he makes his first move. Not even watching her as she makes the remark about James]

You know ... there does appear to be a lot of that happening lately.

[He makes his way over to her, carrying a syringe in his hand.]

I wish I did not have to do this myself ... but I do not have the manpower I once did and I am nothing if not adaptable Meg.

Anyway time to break the ice.

[It gets jammed in the side of her neck ... hard. He pushes down on it slowly so the holy water inside can take its time making it's way round her body.]

[Castiel doesn't awaken while Silva's hauling him into the wheelbarrow or even when he's dumped out of it once again, but what prompts him to finally begin stirring again is Meg's voice. He doesn't place it as hers or actually understand what's being said at first, but he's aware of the the feeling of the warehouse floor under his fingers and the presence of other people for several seconds before he bothers to try opening his eyes.

That doesn't go over great, at despite the low light everything is far too bright and he shuts his eyes again, moving a little bit to draw his injured arm back toward himself on reflex. He decides to focus on listening instead of seeing, ignoring the pounding headache until he can make out the tail end of the conversation between Meg and Silva, and oh. That's not good. When did Meg even get here...?

He opens his eyes again, trying to figure out exactly what's going on so that he can do something--he needs to protect Meg from whatever is going on, this guy is crazy--but this is all easier said than done. He only manages to lift his head and clear his vision enough to catch sight of Silva injecting Meg with... Something. Whatever it is, Castiel is sure it isn't good, and despite his injuries he's suddenly right back to angry, trying to find something to use as a weapon while attention isn't focused on him.]

[She glares after him, squinting, trying to see what he's got going over there.

Her common sense tells her this guy is a psycho and it could be anything, but her ego is a soothing balm that mistakenly reassures her she has nothing to worry about.]

Sure does. If only we knew the cause. I bet everyone would be just fine with taking that person out, you know, for the greater good.

[When he comes at her with the syringe, she foolishly stands still, assuming nothing he could inject her with would really cause any damage.

The searing pain that pulses through her bloodstream says otherwise, and she screams, moreso from the surprise of the discomfort than the actual pain level. She's had worse, but... that had to be holy water... how did he know? Were there really books about her kind in the library? She somehow doubted Dean Winchester had been giving out private demon torture lessons. Even he wasn't that much of a dick.

The shock wears off and the humor of the situation sets in, and as such, the screams change to maniacal laughter.]

Let me get this straight, [she breathes out, raggedly] -- you're gonna torture me?

[He tilts his head and watchs her reaction. His expression could be considered one of curiosity rather then hate.

But he can't say he isn't enjoying this. Watching her squirm and suffer like she made him suffer. He's even forgotten about Castiel for the time being.]

Torture is such an ugly word ... I prefer to think of this as an experiment.

It is fascinating to find what can truly hurt your species.

[He makes his way back over to the table, humming a little tune and almost skipping along the way.

The next item off the table isn't anything as extravagant as his last one ... a salt jar.]

Open wide darling.

[After unscrewing the lid he forceably pulls her head back and emptys its contents down her throat. He takes a step back after he's done ... dusting off his hands and watching her reaction.]

[The screaming is incredibly loud to Castiel, and he ducks his head against the floor and shuts his eyes tightly once again, but it's also the reason he convinces himself to truly get up. He has to help Meg; he's not going to just watch her be hurt if he can do anything about it.

There doesn't appear to be anything useful in the immediate vicinity for him to use as a weapon, but he's sure there are plenty on that table. He plays unconscious again when Silva moves to get the jar, waiting until his attention is on Meg before pushing himself up on his hands and then getting unsteadily to his feet.

The world tilts sideways and his head dips as he nearly loses conscious again, but her fights it off and silently steps around behind Silva toward the table. His fingers close on a knife, and he immediately takes a stab at Silva while his back is turned.]

Edited 2013-12-08 16:48 (UTC)

[Oh dear, I guess he was a little too into torturing Meg to notice Castiel at first. He moves quickly when he hears movement coming from behind him though.

But not quick enough the knife hits him in the shoulder as he turns to meet the man. With a frustrated and painful cry he kicks Castiel in the stomach and flings him to the ground, the knife falls to the floor as he does so.]

Tut tut ... don't you know it is rude to interrupt?

You think that little tickle was enough to hurt me?

[She spits out the words like venom. Her veins are burning up from the inside out, but it's still nowhere near the levels of pain she's endured - or inflicted, for that matter.

When he comes back with the salt, her eyes widen again, but this time it's because she sees Castiel coming up behind him and wants to give Silva the reaction he wants as a distraction. She lets him force her mouth open, and as soon as the salt hits it, her throat is instantaneously parched and searing with pain. She coughs, sputtering, but it's worth it to see the knife connect with Silva's shoulder.

She cringes as Cas is knocked backwards, and then the salt takes full effect. She doubles over, choking and retching.]

[Castiel feels a distinct satisfaction as the knife sinks in, even if it isn't anywhere near as damaging as he'd intended. The kick is little surprise and neither is ending up on the ground, and if he had his voice he'd be snarling taunts and defiance.

As it is, all he can do was spit blood at Silva's shoes, eyes narrowed and all hints of his earlier fake submission gone. He's intending to draw Silva's attention to himself and give Meg a chance to recover.]

Edited 2013-12-08 19:29 (UTC)

[ He looks down at the blood on his shoes and gives a look of disgust.]

Oh I can take the interference in my affairs ... But a man who disrespects Armarni?

[He rolls Castiel onto his front and stands over him. The knife in his hand. Silva shoots him a look before plunging the knife deep into his shoulder. He didn't want to kill the man who... How would he be able to see his "friend" suffer otherwise?

He sighs before going over to the table again. This time to pick up an iron pipe.]