#v. This world might be worth fighting for ::post s5 canon div ; Gabriel::

[collidingxworlds]

Dreams and Doors

Semi-plotted starter for @wingsxcrossroads

He truly should stop doing that, before it became a recurring thing. Or, even worse, a habit. One time had been not just enough, but also too much already and one would have expected him to learn from it, since he had just barely made it worked.

It turned out that he hadn’t, not really. He had been stupid enough not to listen to Hela and wait until he was fully recovered before going back to Earth. Look at where that had landed him. Betrayed by Loki, who had showed no hesitation to exploit his weakened state instead of offering him asylum, and straight into Asmodeus’ clutches. Both had been dealt with as they deserved, but the concept still stood.

And now he was stranded in a parallel universe, without a vessel, his Grace so reduced that he had to make an effort just to keep existing. He had no idea of what gruesome end his counterpart had met in that reality, but he had the feeling that he hadn’t been a pagan god, because that alternative version of Michael hadn’t even bothered to check if there was anything left of him.

As for Lucifer...The bastard had probably assumed that he couldn’t have managed to pull a similar trick a second time. And he couldn’t exactly blame him, because he was having a hard time to believe it too.

Gabriel shifted, his presence nothing than a mere shimmer in the many layers of the fabric that composed reality. He wasn’t even sure of how much time had passed since his second “death”. Days, perhaps weeks? It was hard to tell. Time moved differently when you were so close to dissipate into non-existence.

That wasn’t all, though. There was something else he had noticed, even if he hadn’t been able to put it into focus. The barrier between realities felt...thinner in some moments. Perhaps it was because the rip Jack had made the first time had never fully healed, or maybe it depended on the fact that the threshold had been crossed so many times in such a small period of time. He wasn’t sure and he didn’t particularly care. What he knew was that, at times, it was as if he found himself floating...somewhere else.

Like it was happening in that exact moment. He was no longer surrounded by the ruins of that fallen, rotting world, but by something more alive and yet, at the same time, that felt less real.

Dreamscape...?

The fleeting thought crossed his mind, quick and ethereal as he himself was. It could be, but whose? And could he even communicate with them, when he probably looked like just a small ball of golden light? Well, everything was possible in dreams.

Someone here? I took the wrong turn...at some point. Probably a few millennia ago.

#* They call me Gabriel * ::ic ; Gabriel:: #* Imagination. The final frontier. These are the voyages... * ::threads:: #* Dreams and Doors * ::thread:: #wingsxcrossroads #(( hope this works! )) #(( lmk if you need me to edit it! )) #(( this got longer than I meant for it to be btw )) #(( no need to match! )) #(( beam me up scotty ::queue:: )) #v. This world might be worth fighting for ::post s5 canon div ; Gabriel::

[collidingxworlds]

@neko-mun-rp‘s Sam asked for Gabriel!

Gabriel was nosing around the Bunker library, trailing his fingers over the back of the books and distractedly poking at the few artefacts that were put in display here and there.

After he had incinerated Asmodeus and had decided to take off to take care of his own unfinished business, he had thought that he would have never come back. He had had no interest in sticking his nose in whatever umpteenth mess the Winchesters had got themselves in, especially after how it had ended for him the last time, but of course he had been too much of an optimistic, thinking that they wouldn’t have tracked him down. They were that stubborn.

Biting back a sigh, he dropped his arm, closing his eyes for a moment and bringing his hand up to his chest, to where the scar that Lucifer’s attack had left on both his vessel and true form. He could still feel his Grace disintegrating if he focused hard enough...not that he wished to relive those memories. He still had nightmares, to cry out aloud.

Good thing that angels didn’t really need to sleep.

A noise coming from the entrance of the library distracted him from his thoughts, causing the Trickster to spin around perhaps a bit too quickly not to betray a hint of nervousness. His shoulders, though, relaxed as soon as he saw that it was just Sam.

“I’m not going to run, you know?” He huffed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and kicking his feet slightly. “A deal is a deal. And...I guess you had a point, as I told you. You kiddos don’t need to keep checking on me. I’m behaving.” His lips curled into a small smirk. “Trickster’s word of honour.”

#* They call me Gabriel * ::ic ; Gabriel:: #* A trek among the stars * ::casual interactions:: #nekomunrp #(( season 13 ish )) #(( after the whole vendetta thing )) #(( beam me up scotty ::queue:: )) #v. This world might be worth fighting for ::post s5 canon div ; Gabriel::

[collidingxworlds]

Semi-plotted started @featheredhunter​​

The Bunker.

That was how Albiel had been calling their destination since after he had reluctantly agreed to allow her to take him wherever she pleased. The moments of the trip when he had regretted such decision had been more numerous than the ones when he hadn’t, but what else could have he done? He was in no shape to fly away, in no shape to fight. He couldn’t even talk, with his lips as sewn shut as they were, and in any case she would have been far too stubborn to allow herself to be talked out of rescuing him.

If he had been his usual self, Gabriel would have scoffed and found a way to comment on the lack of imagination that the Winchesters, and whoever had owned the place before them, were showing by using that denomination. Because it had turned out that the construction was exactly what the name said. A bunker. A very peculiar one, heavily shielded against most supernatural things and kinds of magic, but still such. It was so plain and simple that it was honestly disappointing. Or at least it would have been if the archangel had been in any shape to give a damn about it.

Instead, he said nothing and didn’t show any sort of reaction, not even lifting his head to look around while his sister ushered him inside, eyes stubbornly locked on the floor, wide open, unblinking and empty. As if he hadn’t truly been in there, as if nothing and no one had been able to reach him.

The Trickster had spent the last two days in such a blank state. The reluctance and the vaguest glimpse of a fight he had showed when Albiel had firstly found him had dissipated once he had resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn’t have managed to get away, not in his conditions, and that there would have been no getting the other angel to leave him alone to his misery. His eyes had turned completely dull, their amber hue sliding into a sick, greyish brown, and he had become unresponsive, to the point that getting him out of the car when they had reached the small motel his sister had elected as their stop for the night.

She had been forced to wrestle him out of the vehicle, by force, and then had found herself in the conditions of having to do it again the morning after, to get him back in the Mustang. Perhaps those had been the only two moments when Gabriel had felt something. A fleeting flash of vicious, twisted amusement, born out of the need to be cruel, and not out of sincere hilarity for the situation.

The emotion, however, hadn’t lasted and it had quickly been forgotten as he had sunk back into the thick, suffocating shadows that had been making up his world since the day he had been so brutally stabbed in the back. Metaphorically, this time, but Loki could have as well tried and stuck an archangel blade in his chest too, just as Lucifer had done. The results hadn’t been that different, all considered.

Gabriel didn’t realise that he had been led pst the hall, along the corridor and into one of the spare rooms until he was gently coaxed down on a mattress. The gesture and, especially, the touch against his shoulder seemed to snap him back to reality, even if for the necessary time it took him to scurry on the bad and curl in the furthest corner from where Albiel was standing, knees pressed up against his chest and arms curled around them.

His expression remained tensed for a moment, before slowly sinking back into the empty look that seemed to have taken a permanent residence on his face.

“...”

The grip around his legs tightened and he dropped his eyes on the covers, staring, without truly seeing it, at the faint trail of blood and dirt he had left behind in his movements.

#* They call me Gabriel * ::ic ; Gabriel:: #* Imagination. The final frontier. These are the voyages... * ::threads:: #featheredhunter #(( beam me up scotty ::queue:: )) #v. This world might be worth fighting for ::post s5 canon div ; Gabriel::