osteological | Open RP post

I don't think most books tend to cover angels.

[If only because most books put angels off as benevolent creatures who were going to shower you with candy and rainbows or something like that, not something that you should have to worry about trying to kill you in creative and terrifying ways.

She glances down to his arm, brows furrowed.]

Uh, am I missing something about you teaching me a sigil with your bare arm? Not that I don't -- appreciate it.

[She reaches a hand out to touch the pristine skin, though, two fingertips brushing over it.]

I -- [ When he's demonstrated this before, no one has reached out to touch the exposed skin. The gesture stops him, makes him hold his breath as blue eyes dropped to the fingers that trace gentle lines over his flesh, and then seems to come to. ]

Just... watch carefully.

[ Right, so there was a purpose to this. Not... involving the touch of a good friend, who just so happens to appeal to a nagging desire -- a need -- to encourage more of that physical display of affection.

He pulls from his pocket a pocket knife, opens it and without hesitation, draws it over his skin in a sure line. And, unless stopped -- blood will well up from the wound, with droplets of blood falling on the glass top of the coffee table. ]

This... is a banishing sigil --

[She notices the way he pauses, and worries for a split-second that she's done something wrong -- but he breaks out of whatever it is that's holding him. She bites her lip, nodding at his words. She's obedient right up until he pulls out that knife -- it's not that she's worried he's going to use it on her, but when he goes for himself with it she's alarmed. Her hand goes out again, hoping to stop him -- but she's just a little too slow. She wasn't anticipating that sort of -- conviction.]

And it's got to be done in blood?

[Since she can't stop the blood now, and apparently she shouldn't -- she just settles for resting her outstretched hand against his forearm, near the elbow.]

[ Castiel glances immediately to the mutant when he sees her hand reach just short of stopping him, studying her expression with a distant sort of concern. He shakes his head, no, trying to dissuade her worries. ]

It must be done in blood.

[ Distracted, he returns his gaze to the coffee table almost reluctantly, coats his fore and middle fingers in blood, and begins drawing the enochian spell. ]

Even mutated human blood would be sufficient. All you have to do is draw it... [ He stops, pulling his hand away, then hovering his palm over the sigil as if signalling her to touch it just so. ]

And then touch it. It will banish any angel in your immediate area.

[She appreciates him at least trying to dissuade her concerns, even if it doesn't necessarily work. Once he confirms what she was already worried about, she nods her head and tries to pay attention to the way he's drawing the sign for her.

It doesn't look like much, but -- well, it turns out that 'real, powerful' magic that isn't fuelled by a mutation looks quite different from magic from a mutant. If this can banish any angel, it can banish him too.

That's -- something that means he trusts her. She lets her lips twitch into a smile.]

Thank you for showing me this, Castiel. I -- really appreciate it.

[She noticed the temporary distraction. It's enough of the sign she's been looking for, so she settles closer to him. There's only a moment of nerves before she leans in to kiss him on the lips. Nothing too intense, just -- experimental.]

[ It is a measure of trust, showing her this sigil. It's something of a closely guarded secret... one that had been used against him by a brother. Something Dean picked up on and used the first time he called Castiel a friend, thinking him dead.

Truth was, he was dead, but someone... God, he liked to think, brought him back. For what, He only knew... but sometimes he wondered if it was for a second (or third) shot at life -- real living -- and for moments like these. ]

I thought you should know, in case --

[ He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence before it's stopped short by a kiss... blue eyes open for all of it and blinking only when it's broken.

Blue eyes skip from each yellow.

There's a pause, where he almost asks why in that quizzical squint he gives back, but a moment later, he's chasing after blue lips once again. His, on the other hand, is not quite as chaste... so if there's any stopping him, best do so before his kiss turns to something more intense. ]

[There's a moment where she's scared she's somehow managed to misinterpret this when that squint shows up, but once his lips are on hers again any doubts are brushed away.

She thinks in the back of her mind that she should be getting him something for the cut on his arm, but from what she'd seen -- angels didn't exactly work the same way that humans did. She's too distracted with the warm skin that her hands are seeking out, sliding underneath the overcoat to touch the back of his neck, draw him a little closer.

Stopping him is the last thing on her mind, really.]

[ Intense was something she was straying far from, but not him -- having learned first from only the most lewd source as teaching material, he is quick to take this to an almost inappropriate -- or passionate, depending on how you look at it -- new level when he begins to wrap his arms around her. One, the wound closing at this forearm in the seconds before it wraps around her waist, and the other, with finger diving into the silky, red hair at the back of her head... eager to nip at lips until they yield to him.

Pacing? What pacing? This has always worked just fine for him. This was a friend, a good one... and if there was one thing he's learned in Attollo, it was how to express your fond feelings for another in such physical ways as this. ]

[Truth be told, she hasn't exactly had much experience with anything like this. The pacing might be surprising, coming from someone like Cas -- but it's not unwelcome, all things considered. She lets out a soft noise at the hand in her hair, meeting his lips with equal eagerness.

Since he's already got his arms around her, it's easy enough for her to shift into his lap. The coffee table isn't so much in the way as it is a good excuse to be close to Castiel.]

[ The soft noise is responded to with a muffled, gruff version of Castiel's own the moment she slides over his lap, taking this to mean that he's on the right track, and that this is a perfectly normal transition from instruction to... to whatever this was. Intimacy, he supposed it was.

Castiel, despite his experience, still hasn't quite grasped the concept of 'moving too fast'. Porn didn't exactly lend itself to such things as restraint and realistic buildup. So he pulls her in, allows his hands to slip up her back and, incidentally, up the shirt she wears to fan out over blue skin.

It wouldn't be the first time he's suddenly found himself in such a situation, and had he realized the compliment this was, how all it took was an eager reciprocation of a kiss to take it to another, hotter level, he would have probably said something sooner. Instead, he busies his tongue with grazing over the seam of her lips, seeking entrance to deepen the kiss. ]

[That all depended on who you got your lessons from. The relationships she's seen her brother have with women haven't exactly been a balance of power. She knows it isn't right, sure, but it hasn't exactly made her eager to jump into something serious.

Since she's in pajamas, there isn't much stopping his hands once they're under her shirt. The skin is textured, not smooth, but still the same temperature (despite the jokes people have made about her needing to stand under a heat lamp). Mystique parts her lips in order to meet his tongue with hers, leaning her body in against his.]

[ The hands don't do much else than trace the pebbly surface of her skin as if either painting an image of his own making... or memorizing every part of her own that he's permitted to touch. His lips, on the other hand, alternate between purposeful, chaste and close-mouthed kisses and the kind that seek her tongue with his own to tangle up in, swirling over hers to taste the kiss in full.

Finally, perhaps out of necessity to breathe (for her, at least), he pulls briefly away. ]

-- That was... very pleasant. [ He breathes, eyes finally opening again. Pushing hair from her face, he admits: ] And very confusing.

[She sits back on his lap a little once he pulls back from the kiss, and lets out a soft laugh as she ducks her head. It's a little embarrassing, being as flustered as she is.]

...confusing, huh?

[She tilts her head into his hand with a raised brow.]

How come?

I'm... not certain.

[ He knows something about it is tripping him up, making ground he thought was steady and reliable quake beneath his feet and throwing him completely off balance. But what or why is beyond him. ]

...This... wasn't what I had in mind when I came to visit you.

[ But neither is he complaining, not when his eyes are drifting down to the negligible space between them and his hands are discovering comfortable places to rest at her hips. Her body, although rough in places where those ridges lay, is warm and familiar in femininity... but it's what's within that causes his blood to rise, his pulse climbing at the thought of leaning in and tasting the lips that smile demurely now. ]

[All the better that he didn't somehow plant his. She did like being the initiator, at least at first. It made her feel like she was in control to at least some extent, and -- well, when you spent the first few years of your life that you could remember unable to really control your environment in the way you wanted to, that became important.

She licks her lips. She can feel his eyes on her, and when he places his hands on her hips she squirms in his lap just a tad.]

It's definitely a better use of my time than staying here alone.

Open RP post

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OKAY I'm back, sorry for the wait!

No problem!

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