Owner	Pose
Castiel	Not long after their trip to the Jersey shore, and Castiel's subsequent visit to talk with Karen about his.. wings.. Cas finds himself at one of his perennially favourite watering holes, though lacking his favourite drinking buddy - nobody understands the joys of squadron bottles lined up on the bartop like Bucky. No great lose, though, Cas has Hayal, who might not be a wise in the ways of, but most certainly entertaining. And, as Cas was figuring out, also a dear friend. "They have greasy foods here that are supposed to stop you from feeling the drunk." He's got a bottle of whiskey, and all the little glasses for himself and Hayal - just because Bucky isnt here doesn't mean tradition shouldn't be observed. "I will show you the boilermakers later, but this is an Apocalypse. One drink for each horseman. There are Squadrons too. Those are many planes. One more glass. I do not know why." But they'd start with an Apocalypse, because how better then to thumb your nose at the Divine.. or Michael.
Hayal	Bucky is currently having a moment of dim-witted chivalry worthy of Steve Rogers. Nothing like challenging the Trickster God when you've already taken a few too many hits to the helmet as it is. So it's Hayal who's come along with Cas, inquisitive as a puppy. Peering at the glasses with bright eyes, looking at each one in turn. "I don't see how that's planes or horsemen," he offers, looking up at Castiel. "This is a strange metaphor."
Castiel	Castiel gives Hayal a long suffering look, telling the other, "I don't know. Nobody told me why. Perhaps humans are unable to handle four drinks without wishing for the end of the world." That, however, didn't explain the five of a squadron, or a flight as it was also called. "You are supposed to drink each in succession. Sometimes you say pithy words. Like.." He grumbles, and considers as he lifts his first horseman, "Oh, I don't know. May Michael trip and snap that metal rod stuck up his hindquarters in two." It wasn't a great toast, but it still pleased the angel.
Karen Page	It's after work, and it's more habit than intent anymore to stop in a Josie's before heading home. Even if all she gets is a glass bottle of Mexican soda to take home. Stepping into the building, she does her usual beeline for the bar, only realizing after a few steps in that Castiel is here. And Pige-- Hayal. So, she walks toward them slowly enough that they can acknowledge her presence. "Hey, guys. Glad to see you here."
Hayal	The other angel considers this. No wings present, and he's in t-shirt and fatigue pants. Thoughtful. "A toast," he says, finally, as he picks up one, knocks it back. Then on to the next. "I know a better one," he adds, in that gentle voice. "L'Chaim." To life. Karen presents herself, and he gazes at her with that approval. As if humans really were miraculous. "Hello. Welcome. We are glad to see you."
Castiel	There's a faint scoff from Castiel, "You've been out of the Silver City too long to appreciate my toast." He grumbles, "You realize these are supposed to be here's mud in your eye toasts, right? Telling the world you aren't done with it yet and death can't have you?" That much Cas had gleaned. These things were meant to be defiant, not salutes to a gentle properity. He downs his drink before acknowledging Karen. "If you want to join us, we can get more glasses." He's already tapping the bar for just that attention.
Karen Page	Karen smiles at Hayal in that friendly and accepting manner she has, then responds to Castiel's assessment of Hayal's toast. "Actually, I think anymore a toast can be almost anything. A kind thought like, like Hayal, or the mud in your eye, or even fond thoughts for a long departed friend or loved one. Really, whatever reason you have for sharing a drink." She wasn't planning on doing any serious drinking, but one shot she should be able to handle. Just one. And when said first shot is on the bar, she lifts it toward the two angels before saying, "To finding things we thought lost to us forever."
Hayal	"It depends on the situation," Hayal agrees. He reaches over, puts a hand on Cas's shoulder, rubs it gently. "She is right. But if you are feeling defiant, let them be defiant." Hayal, Emotional Support Angel. How can something created to destroy be so chill? He beams approval at Karen. "Yes. To the return of what was lost." He snatches up a glass, nearly slops liquor on the top of the bar, then hands it to her.
Castiel	Whether Karen wants them or not, there are three other drinks/glasses lined up in front of her - after all, they were doing the Horsemen! "What was lost?" Karen is given an intense look, since she brought the matter up. "You are missing something?" As for Hayal, and toasts, it's still defiant, but much more in the flavour of what's been offered, Castiel repeats, "To finding that which was lost." Tossing his drink back, and offering now, "Slainte." A spicier version of 'to life'.
Karen Page	Karen tosses back her shot with the same ease as the two angels -- but she knows what her hard limit is and will stop before that -- then accepts the one that Hayal hastily hands her. "I haven't, Proginoskes, but didn't you just recently recover something you thought was lost?" She says this with a somewhat smug smile, as if fully aware of what she's implying. Hopefully Castiel will actually understand. Jokes stop being fun when they have to be explained.
Hayal	So, Hayal still, even after all these centuries, only partially understands all the complexities around human physical affection. He leans over to nuzzle his face into Cas's shoulder, utterly unselfconscious. "That is a good one, too," he says, when he straightens up again. "Health, life.....all very precious." He beams at Karen. "He found them between the sofa cushions."
Castiel	It's Hayal that Castiel blinks at. "I do not have a couch. I have a recliner. And the boys have two. There are no sofas?" He shakes his head and downs Horseman number three before replying, "My wings. You mean my wings. Yes, that is a good toast. We should make this last one.." There's a grumble. "I do not seem to be finding the words, so perhaps Hayal will think of the right ones."
Karen Page	Karen hasn't tossed back that second shot yet, and she's saving it for the one more toast. Hopefully, she'll be able to get out the door tonight with only the two shots under her belt. Hayal's openly affectionate contact with Castiel earns them both a small but clearly fond smile. And because Cas said maybe Hayal would think of a toast, she doesn't offer one herself. Even if she probably could think of one quickly enough.
Hayal	"Yes, your wings." Hayal mulls it over, for a moment, swirling the drink in his glass. Visibly distracted, for a few beats, before he remembers himself and looks up. "To open skies," he says, easily.
Castiel	That one earns a nod of approval, even though it is really neither spicy, nor sentimental. It suits the reappearance of his wings, though. And where he'd not made much reaction to the nuzzle, Castial gives a semi-smile to Hayal that not only softens his edges, but also the blue of his eyes. "Open skies, and free sailing." It sounded the thing to say.
Karen Page	She can't help it. Karen grins at them both, and lifts her shot glass. "To open skies and free sailing." Not that she'll ever experience that herself unless she goes and takes hang gliding lessons, but still. This time instead of tossing the entire shot back, she sips about half of it down. If she can nurse the rest, she has a chance of not ending up hung over tomorrow.
Hayal	"I like sailing," he says, blandly. The only thing that keeps the Pigeon from screaming inanity is that he's so, so sincere. "I like flying over the water. Chasing my shadow on the waves. I'll have to show you how fun it is, now that you're better," He informs Cas. As if all that loss was just the angelic equivalent of a bad cold.
Castiel	"I have never sailed in a boat," Cas observes. "But I have ridden thermals." He, too, gets a farway look as he remembers how it was. Their brief return to flight in Jersey hadn't been nearly lnog enough for the angel. "Perhaps we could go to the ocean, and.." He remembers, belatedly, of course, Karen. "Would you like to see the ocean?" Notably, he isn't saying which ocean.
Karen Page	Karen glances at her watch then sets down the half-empty shot glass. "Sure, why not? As long as I can get at least six hours of sleep I should be fine." Knowing Castiel's ability to touch someone and carry them elsewhere, she's expecting to end up on the Jersey coast. Maybe, at best, the Hamptons. But really, she's not going to complain. She hasn't seen a proper beach since she came to New York from Maine.