fandomtownies | Our Lady of Fandom, Thursday

It was that time again, time for Castiel's weekly sermon.

After the reactions to last week and how confused it made people, he decided to go with a topic he could get more . . . particular on.

This was not necessarily a good thing.

"I would like to speak to you all today," he said, "about Hell."

Really not a good thing.

See, Castiel had been to Hell. He'd seen it, and what it did to souls. He'd seen how it could turn otherwise good, righteous people into twisted things that delighted in the pain of others, how after decades of torture a soul could forget the very things that made them them in favor of the promise of not having to hurt any more.

And he went into particulars. About tortures he'd seen used. In detail.

This was not for the faint of heart.

Not to say, of course, that Castiel seemed to be enjoying telling you all this. His expression ranged from stoic sadness to mild disgust -- a decent range for a guy like Cass -- all underscored with a deep, honest pity for those who would suffer these torments. And he finished off with "Heaven is much nicer."

Dude needed to hire a speech writer. For serious.

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Or ignore him or whathaveyou.

Seriously, what the heck should I call this thread?

Point out that the tough guy with the heart of gold who sat in the back and pretended to sleep had actually fainted. And he'll point out that the little old lady who sat in the front and everyone watched for when to stand and when to kneel had seemed to enjoy it, what with how she spent the sermon cackling quietly. . . .

Yeah, I DON'T EVEN KNOW.

Except I did spend the morning at the DMV. So, you know, Hell and Pergatory were on my mind.

Morgan was in the confessional as the angel went at his 'sermon' and by the end, he was, uh...

Oh God, did he just end with 'Heaven is much nicer'?

That totally wasn't a snort coming from the confessional. It utterly wasn't.

Castiel made his way over the confessional once the service was completed.

"Everything alright, Derek?"

Derek. Man, no one called him that. Sounded kind of funny, but he could dig it.

"Sure. I'm cool. Just, uh, doing the upholstery. I should actually be pretty much done with things by the end of today."

Which was sad, since he liked the church.

"You know, the guy in the back isn't as much of a badass as his clothes would lead you to believe," Chuck said after the sermon. He actually liked the sermon. That's the cool stuff he liked to hear about, even if it scared the fuck out of him.

"The leather jacket does appear to be an attempt at shielding himself, yes," said Castiel.

Castiel would point out that it was Morgan's name.

He was just getting good at the whole "calling people by their first name, not first and last name" thing. Trying to just call them by their last name might throw him.

"Excellent. Though I admit, I've grown used to your presence while you were working."

"Leather jackets usually are used for that purpose," he said, wrinkling up his nose. They were so tacky. "I think you might have scared away about half of your congregation with that sermon."

How about the Stare In Horror thread?

It's what Francine would be doing, anyway.

"But that would probably lead them further down the path to the tortures I just described. Do you think I needed to be more specific?"

And he'd point out that no one but JJ and his mother touched Reid's first name with a ten foot pole. It just wasn't cool, dammit.

But for the angel, he'd deal.

"Hey, you're always welcome at the hardware store. And I'm sure something'll break eventually. This place has a few years on it."

A respectable amount of minutes after the moment Arthur imagined any respectable sermon would be respectably done, he sent a text message.

How was church?

Knowing timezones, it was a crapshot as to when it actually arrived.

"Does it?" Castiel actually hadn't noticed. He had more than a few years on the building, after all. "And thank you. Perhaps I'll stop by on occasion. I am curious to learn more about carpentry."

"Following Someone's footsteps there?" he asked with a little smile.

"It would give us something to talk about." Most of those sorts of conversations got very awkward very quickly, really. And when an angel notices that things are awkward. . . . "Though it's also the creativity involved which fascinates me."

If she had a full keyboard, Arthur would totally have gotten akjasdhalksjdhaskljdhaskljdhklasjdhaklsdhipuh as a reply.

As it was, he got HE IS TALKING ABOUT HELL. THERE ARE FISH-HOOKS AND SANDPAPER. MAKE HIM STOP.

"Believe me, you were specific enough," Chuck told him. "I think that imagery is going to stick with people. And give them nightmares."

There was a few minutes of absolutely no response at all.

Then she got an encouraging, At least they've moved on from being cooked alive in a broth of magic user's

Ah, religion with Uther Pendragon.

Ah, long live the early accidental pressing of the 'send' key.

Castiel didn't seem too terribly worried about people's nightmares.

"The actual experience would give them worse," he said dismissively. "It tests even the endurance of my kind."

Magic user's what?

Thirty seconds later:

OMG don't answer that! I so don't want to know.

"Sure. I can teach you what I know. And you know if you've got questions about anything, I'm your man, right?"

OMG?

Yes, that was the important part.

"I prefer not to claim possession of people. But if I have questions, I will ask."

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Our Lady of Fandom, Thursday

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