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Our Lady of Fandom, Thursday

The pew the kittens were under was still blocked off, though the kittens had opened their eyes and ears by now and were wobbling about their little nest a great deal more. It might have been some effort for Castiel to pull himself away from watching them in order to give the sermon.

He was in better spirits this week -- though that wasn't necessarily saying much. Still, having spent the intervening time watching kittens develop had clearly done him some good.

"Today, I thought I might talk to you for a little while about instinct."

And he did, going into not just the fundamental necessity of instinct to developing life, but also arguments as to whether instincts were genetic, or perhaps a sign of intelligent design. His general thesis seemed to be that these instincts were provided for the earliest of creatures by the Creator, certainly, but possibly as a means of then not feeling bad about ignoring the world almost completely. 'Look', God seemed to be saying. 'I gave you these guidelines, here, way back at the beginning. It's not my fault you're too stupid to pay attention to them.'

In conclusion, Castiel seemed to be saying, listen to your instincts. 'Cause the Lord might not actually give a dead rat's ass about your survival, otherwise.

Cheerful, yeah?

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Do your instincts tell you he's right? Or maybe they're telling you "IDEK WHY ARE WE HERE IM HUNGRY FEED ME NOW"?

Chuck's instincts were always kind of off, so he wasn't sure if this was the sermon for him. Not that he was paying much attention to it. He learned yesterday that if he skipped out on his usual activities, he might get tracked down and bitchfaced at later, so he showed up to church out of obligation more than anything else.

With exception of some mumbling, Chuck actually did pretty well keeping his crazy down. It helped that even Bart Bass wouldn't cause trouble in a church.

Rilla, dressed for church like she would if she was going to the Presbyterian service at home, complete with gloves, freshly shined boots and her sailor hat, sat in the pew and blinked.

Well, this was different.

Sookie, who hadn't dressed quite that stringently but had worn a dress and put her hair up, at least, leaned over at one point. "I told you he's weird," she whispered.

She would have said it telepathically but she wasn't sure she wanted to freak Rilla out in the middle of church.

Unusually attractive for a minister, too, Rilla thought, but that was hardly a church-y thing to bring up. "At least it's interesting?" she murmured back.

Oooh, instincts. As Angua settled into a pew far away from the kittens against this week, she listened with an expression of sweetened earnest, thinking that this should be pretty good.

Sookie actually could appreciate today's sermon, as a big believer in good old common sense, too. Her instincts were usually pretty good -- it was almost like she had a sixth sense, sometimes, even on top of her telepathy.

This is actually the first sermon Dean had sat through. He was kind of staring at the end of it.

Right, he thought. Still obviously dealing with the father issues.

Dani was rather amused by this week's sermon. She felt that she had good business instincts. She made a mental note that she needed to come to this church more often.

Scully's instincts were... confused. Her first instinct was to respect a priest and authority figure; her second was to ask him Wait, what?

So she was listening. Or trying to.

He might have made a beeline back to check on the kittens when the service was over.

Chuck found Castiel's motherly instincts towards the kittens to be amusing, and he could really use some amusement right now, so he followed him after the service ended.

"How are they doing?" Chuck asked quietly.

"Their eyes are open." Castiel was clearly fascinated. "And you can see their markings." He pointed to one mostly black kitten lying half under a gray one. "This one here is black and orange, like their mother, yet he's male. It's very rare."

Like a proud papa, he was.

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Talk to Castiel

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