Helen has come to terms by now with the fact that her memories may not be exactly true to the way that things have actually happened. She's been a bit out of sorts, trying to piece together what she's missed and who might still remember her. Her stroll today has led her to Grant Park. She's met quite a few interesting people in this particular spot, so it seems like a fair enough place to start to reconnect.
As she draws closer to the greenery, the distinct sound of a particular era of music drifts to her ears. The corners of her mouth twitch into a smile as she lets her feet carry her closer. While the 80's are not her favorite decade for musical progression, Helen can certainly appreciate the choice
( ... )
They had one conversation where they discussed funnel cake and cotton candy, but to him it seemed to be a nice conversation, and he wouldn't have minded having one again. Then he saw on the journal that the strange man with the boat is throwing a party for her birthday, and according to human custom, you go to the birthday parties of your friends.
So this is Cas. Attending the party.
Appearing behind Helen with little more warning than a soft ruffle of wings.
"Yes," he agrees after she speaks. "The decorations are very pleasing."
Helen turns her head sharply, surprised to see a man now behind her. She places a hand over her heart and lets out a laugh while her face lights up in an embarrassed smile.
"Oh! I didn't see you there. Yes... pleasing. That's a word for it. It certainly looks like someone has gone all out. Do you know who the party is for, by chance? I just happened upon all this while I was out for a walk."
"Veronica Mars," he replies simply. "She is a friend of Shawn Spencer's, and he is throwing it for her for her birthday. But he says that everyone is invited -- it is not simply limited to her friends."
Castiel reads the journal a lot. Most people would probably convey it in a tone that's a bit more personable and akin to gossip, but Castiel just says it flatly, as though he's relaying facts -- in his mind, he is.
"I see." Helen replies, a bit unnerved by his tone, but so far, the man has seemed harmless enough, if not a bit strange. "Well, that was quite nice of this Mr. Spencer." Helen isn't aware that she knows the host, as they never exchanged names in their previous meeting.
"Are you a friend of hers? Or simply dropping in?"
"Veronica and I have spoken before," he replies. He's aware that his view of 'friends' isn't necessarily the same as the human one. He doesn't want to give more credence to their relationship than actually exists. "She is very nice."
There's something -- off about this woman. Not quite human, but that is normal in Chicago. He encounters those types of Wanderers quite often. But he doesn't call attention to it. He's been told that that could be considered rude.
Helen can seem offputting to even the most normal of people. It has something to do with that wise look in her eyes- the years she's lived have had an effect on her. And while this man is somewhat strange, Helen continues to smile politely and carry on a conversation as best she can.
"I haven't had the pleasure to meet her." It dawns on her that she's being incredibly rude. "Or you for that matter. My name is Helen, Helen Magnus. Forgive me- I seem to have left my manners elsewhere."
That's alright, Helen. Castiel's manners are tenuous at best. Most of the time, he can make his way through a conversation without introducing himself at all.
"My name is Castiel," he replies. "It is nice to meet you, Helen."
Helen is incredibly proper. And British. She has enough manners for the both of them.
"Castiel? A rather unique name. Biblical, if I recall- though I suppose many names are. But it's not one that you hear too often." She smiles and nods. "A pleasure."
"As far as I am aware, at least in my own world, I was the only being with that name," he replies simply.
Aside from the rather specific 'being' tacked on to the end of that sentence, he's trying not to call too much attention to his angelic nature unless prompted. It's simply easier that way. He's found that being an angel of the Lord is getting harder and harder to explain.
A twitch of a smile comes to Helen's lips. Has she found an Abnormal? He's certainly not from this place, as he referenced a world beyond this one. And yet he did not say that he's the only person with his unique name. She knows better than to ask right out- at least not right away.
"It's a lovely name, truly." She says, looking at him for a moment before letting her arms drop to her sides and glancing towards the party. "I'm positively parched. Would you care to join me on my way to the refreshments?"
Abnormal is one word for it. Not Castiel's word, but one of them.
"I would like that." He likes Helen so far. She seems like a nice woman, and a patient one at that. Castiel doesn't meet too many of those. "I hope Shawn provided some pie."
"If not, we will certainly seek out the appropriate parties to complain to." She says with a smile, joking. Helen walks slowly towards the coolers, taking her time to observe the party set-up with a great fondness.
There's a small smile at the joke. He's getting better at reading people's tones, and picking out what's a joke and what isn't. Some people are still a bit dry with their sarcasm, but he's learning -- slowly but surely.
"Over a year," he says simply. "I arrived through the Rift in May of 2010."
"My word, that is a long time, indeed. I was here only a few short months before. And I've just recently learned that I was gone for several more until just a few days ago." She bends over to open the nearest cooler, fishing out a cold cola and offering it to him.
He takes the soda from her, holding it up to examine it. He's never had soda before. The Winchesters were drinkers, and while a beer can he is used to, he had never had soda. He looks it over quietly for a moment, before popping the tab and listening to the fizz.
"That has happened to me before as well. The Rift sent me to ... an alternate reality."
As she draws closer to the greenery, the distinct sound of a particular era of music drifts to her ears. The corners of her mouth twitch into a smile as she lets her feet carry her closer. While the 80's are not her favorite decade for musical progression, Helen can certainly appreciate the choice ( ... )
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They had one conversation where they discussed funnel cake and cotton candy, but to him it seemed to be a nice conversation, and he wouldn't have minded having one again. Then he saw on the journal that the strange man with the boat is throwing a party for her birthday, and according to human custom, you go to the birthday parties of your friends.
So this is Cas. Attending the party.
Appearing behind Helen with little more warning than a soft ruffle of wings.
"Yes," he agrees after she speaks. "The decorations are very pleasing."
Reply
"Oh! I didn't see you there. Yes... pleasing. That's a word for it. It certainly looks like someone has gone all out. Do you know who the party is for, by chance? I just happened upon all this while I was out for a walk."
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Castiel reads the journal a lot. Most people would probably convey it in a tone that's a bit more personable and akin to gossip, but Castiel just says it flatly, as though he's relaying facts -- in his mind, he is.
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"Are you a friend of hers? Or simply dropping in?"
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There's something -- off about this woman. Not quite human, but that is normal in Chicago. He encounters those types of Wanderers quite often. But he doesn't call attention to it. He's been told that that could be considered rude.
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"I haven't had the pleasure to meet her." It dawns on her that she's being incredibly rude. "Or you for that matter. My name is Helen, Helen Magnus. Forgive me- I seem to have left my manners elsewhere."
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"My name is Castiel," he replies. "It is nice to meet you, Helen."
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"Castiel? A rather unique name. Biblical, if I recall- though I suppose many names are. But it's not one that you hear too often." She smiles and nods. "A pleasure."
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Aside from the rather specific 'being' tacked on to the end of that sentence, he's trying not to call too much attention to his angelic nature unless prompted. It's simply easier that way. He's found that being an angel of the Lord is getting harder and harder to explain.
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"It's a lovely name, truly." She says, looking at him for a moment before letting her arms drop to her sides and glancing towards the party. "I'm positively parched. Would you care to join me on my way to the refreshments?"
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"I would like that." He likes Helen so far. She seems like a nice woman, and a patient one at that. Castiel doesn't meet too many of those. "I hope Shawn provided some pie."
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"So how long have you been here?"
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"Over a year," he says simply. "I arrived through the Rift in May of 2010."
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"That has happened to me before as well. The Rift sent me to ... an alternate reality."
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