2462/Dancing on a Pin

Dancing on a Pin
Date of Scene:	15 September 2017
Location:	Angela's Loft - Hell's Kitchen
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Ahadiel, Castiel

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Ahadiel has posed:
    It's late in the evening, and one advantage to being an angel? No need to sleep. Currently, Angela is perched on a stepstool, busy chiseling on her 'abstract' work of art, some inspiration having struck her so she's busy doing that. And probably not really anticipating any additional company this night.

Castiel has posed:
He thought about walking on by and ignoring the obvious. Oh, it wasn't the chiselling, or the odd hours. The bumps in the night. Or the fact that nobody seemed to know anything about the resident in the loft other than she kept to herself and was some sort of "artist".. No. It was the other. The thing that Castiel couldn't ignore. And the more he couldn't ignore it, the more it begged: what would another be doing here? So he found himself waiting outside her door, contemplating.

Ahadiel has posed:
Angela noticed the disturbance, of course. It took her a while to place it, but there it was. Sighing a bit, she gets down off the stepstool and walks over towards the door where Castiel is loitering.

And then she opens the door, looking over Castiel with a wry expression. She sighs, "Okay, what can I do for you?" No real preamble, as she regards the other angel, one eyebrow arching as she waits for an answer.

Castiel has posed:
Castiel doesn't smile. That's a thing that still doesn't fit his lips well. Not since they became his. They're a small, infrequent thing. An afterthought mostly. But he does regard her with clear blue eyes and a steady gaze. "How many angels does it take to dance on the head of a pin?" The phrase is given in carefully measured tones that speak of the rhetoric of the thing. "I wondered why you were here," is his actual answer.

Ahadiel has posed:
Angela looks a bit amused, "Wondered why I was here? I've been here in New York for a century, since this is where art is happening. It's my purview in Creation, after all." She sighs. "Come on in, there's no point to you just standing on the porch all night." With that, she stands out of the way, beckoning for Castiel to come in. "A little surprised the 'home office' is checking on me here."

Castiel has posed:
Castiel doesn't shrug as another might. Merely steps over the threshold, his shoulders a slight slouch that make his trenchcoat look even more oversized and dishevelled than it already does. "Art is happening?" He pauses in the middle of the room, looking about without any particular acknowledgement of the fact that art isn't just happening, it's happening *here*. Right here. "Ah. Your purview." The nod that comes with it is a half-second too late. His expression quizical.

Ahadiel has posed:
Angela looks wryly at Castiel, "You're a bit new to this world, aren't you?" Though she says it as a question, it seems she knows the answer before she asks. Human habits, no doubt, but then if this is who she probably is, she's been Earthside for most of her existence. So she picked up all sorts of habits.

Castiel has posed:
Castiel doesn't move from his spot in the middle of the room, though he does remember to keep his attention upon the woman speaking to him - humans do that - as he consideres his reply. His eyebrows furrow in an unkempt line across his brow. Once. Twice. He starts to answer then thinks better of himself, before giving the faintest of shrugs. "There wasn't a reason before." Now he smiles, the thing the barest hint of all a smile can be, but it's a smile. "Ahadiel."

Ahadiel has posed:
Angela arches a brow, "Well, come on upstairs then. Do you drink? I have a sudden urge to do so." She gives Castiel a wry expression, "But you can just call me Angela, instead. Calling me 'Ahadiel' in public is going to really weird people out. Ah, make them realize something is wrong, rather." She's definitely 'gone native' in some ways, as she just seems way too comfortable as a human.

Castiel has posed:
Castiel tilts his head fractionally at Angela. "Angela seems so.." He pauses, his gaze dropping as he considers. A small noise of thought in the back of his throat. "Angela." He doesn't finish his thought, merely gives her her name, and returns his gaze to her. "I do. There is this peculiar drink called a boilermaker. Though it has nothing to do with boiling. Or steam. You may call me Castiel if you chose." The name rumbles from him, carrying a memory of power with it. Other's might not notice it, but Angela might.

Ahadiel has posed:
Angela does notice, and arches a brow slightly, "Castiel, then. I think I can manage a boilermaker." She chuckles, "I did work in an underground bar in the 1920s, after all." And with that, she gets out a beer from the fridge, as well as a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard. As she works, she glances over her shoulder, "You haven't been on Earth long, have you? Because frankly, it shows a bit. Always felt there should be more of an... adjustment period. Humans are funny that way."

Castiel has posed:
Castiel looks down at himself as he waits for Angela to make their drinks. "They are built rather quaintly. I do not know what to do with all the parts yet." When he looks up again, she is looking at him. "There was no need before. There is now. I was surprised to find you." Again, he gives one of those memories of a smile that's just a fraction of a second off. "You asked about the home office."

Ahadiel has posed:
Angela shrugs, "Well, it's been... a while, since I've been up there. So I've been busy working on what I was last given work to do." She brings over two drinks, the other angel having just a beer as she places the boilermaker in front of Castiel. "It's already mixed, I hope you don't mind."

Then she nods, "Getting used to the vessel is always a struggle at first. But, you will. It just takes practice." Her lips curl in a faint smile, "But then, I've been doing //this// for about... hmm. Thirty-five hundred years? Give or take a decade."

Castiel has posed:
Castiel picks up the proferred drink, and sniffs at it. "I am not sure if I mind. Should I?" He considers the drink, but does not sip yet. "That seems.." He pauses thoughtfully, "An excessive amount of time for an assignment." For the moment he slouches in his seat. One of what seem to be his two extremes as shown so far: slouched, or with extreme attention to posture. No in-between. "This vessel seems found of the fluids. They were not repulsive. Your assignment? It's still in progress?"

Ahadiel has posed:
Angela nods slightly, "It's ongoing, really. Protecting and patronizing artists and art." She hmms, "It just allowed me to... well, blend in, a lot more than I did before. But then that's when I was smiting more than nuturing."

Castiel has posed:
Castiel's lips bow over a smile that doesn't have that awkward pause, or that out of place look. There's a sincerity to it that's relaxed and natural. Much as if he hasnt' noticed, or didn't stop to think about the matter, merely let it happen. "You do fit in."