One accidental video by two deliberate Philips [15/??? artefacts collected]

[sadfreezingbrit_archive]

First floor, room somethingorother. This is a boring feed. There's the sound of furniture being moved in the background, but all that's visible is a wooden door. For a moment it sounded like there was a knock on it, but that was probably just the background noise. Really, it doesn't look like anything will be happening here anytime soon. Honestly, better change the channel to something moreOHGODPICKAXE!!!



[ With a crack the wood splinters, a narrow metal head bursting through it. After a moment it dislodges and after another the axe comes crashing through again, making the crack wider. Somebody is behind that door, but their identity remains yet unknown.

Enter Philip, slowly shoving a heavy bookcase in front of the door. Once he's got the exit completely covered he disappears again and returns to follow up with a dresser, a table and several chairs.

Once the entire barricade is in place he sways back and lets himself fall against a wall, sinking to the floor while gasping for air.

He flinches as the barricade rattles and shakes.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Then silence.

Philip pauses, hesitates and finally breathes a sigh of relief.

Silence.

Suddenly a creaking noise, coming from the closet further back in the room.

Philip swallows and hesitates before slowly getting up to investigate, circling the closet doors at a good distance until he is able to see inside.

And once he does his eyes widen instantly and he takes a few panicked steps back. ]

No! N-no...

[ He shakes his head frantically. ]

How d-- How did you...?

[ The door creaks open a little further, revealing to the camera a perfect copy of Philip.

Not somebody similar, no. Not a sloppy copy with different clothes, perhaps an air that is more or less refined. Not somebody with a different voice or even a different accent.

Not somebody slightly younger or slightly older either, not even somebody who has at least the decency to wear an interesting hat or perhaps have pitch black demon eyes or set himself apart from the original in any way.

No, this guy here might as well be Philip's reflection. If Philip was currently holding a pickaxe that is... ]

The lesson here is that you can lock away your problems as much as you like, they are only going to find a way around eventually.

[ The shadow smiles and advances towards Philip. ]

Take for instance our dearest and most trusted companion Clarence--

I don't want to hear it! [ The original interrupts, takes another step back and looks over his shoulder. Then he turns around and jumps through the open window.

His remaining double only shakes his head and calls after him: ]

Denial is not just an anagram of your best friend, Philip!

[ After a moment's pause the shadow shoulders his axe and gives chase. ]

[[OOC: ICly cut for length. Philip will answer video and audio with a slight IC delay while being chased. Both Philips can be found outside the mansion for action interaction.]]

Comments

PLEASE? PRETTY PLEASE? WITH A CHERRY AND WHIPPED CREA- Wait.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Were Dean aware of the conversations that Castiel and Clarence could potentially have thanks to their uncanny ability to project their respective consciousnesses to sensitive minds, the chances of embarrassment would be...extremely high. It's fortunate for everyone else, then, that Dean continues blissfully walking along, boots crunching the underbrush, one hand shoved in his pocket, whistling something that is probably Led Zeppelin.

At the very least, no one can hear his thoughts - Except maybe Castiel, but they haven't ironed the kinks out concerning mental messages and subconscious voicemail.

It's probably complicated.

When they finally break out of the forest, back in the startlingly-manicured field, Dean takes a deep breath of relief and cracks his neck. "Remind me to not go so long in between hunts," He says dryly, to no one in particular, and re-adjusts the shotgun over his shoulder.

The silence is a little too awkward.

"So, uh...I take it...you guys met, already?"

The whipped cream is for later, Dean.

[out-of-minutes.livejournal.com]

"...we are acquainted, yes," Cas answers for both of them. His tone is level, carefully flat.

Aimed at Clarence (not that Dean heard the question, but he'll probably be able to guess who asked, if he thinks about it), he adds, "And it is not unheard-of for angels to have sexual interest, nor for them to have intercourse with humans. Such was the origin of the Nephilim, thousands of years ago in human history."

Pitching his voice a little louder, and adopting what he fancies is a conversational tone, he goes on, "It is well you are physically unequipped to bear offspring, Dean, as the Nephilim were determined to be abominations in the sight of the Lord, and were therefore to be hunted."

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

Somewhere there is bound to be a helpful book on angel/headvirus etiquette, all the information laid down and lovingly elaborated on. A set of strict yet vital rules... of which Castiel probably broke just about all and then some.

From being in Philip's head in the first place to indulging Clarence with an answer to making it that answer and then going on...

It's hard for Philip to pick between incredulous, mortified and furious when they all apply in such significant amounts.

So he simply bites his lip, lowers his head and walks a whole lot faster.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Take Philip's absolute, utter mortification, and now multiply it by infinity. At first Dean thinks he's hiding the embarrassment well: head ducked, shoulders a rigid line. But the heat is increasing and his cheeks are burning and his stomach is flipping in that way that only happens during freefall on a roller coaster - or in Dean's case, any occasion when he's seated on an airplane.

Cas just...in front of Phil...

...and in that instant Dean loses any hope of his friends becoming friends, and shoots Castiel a look that says We are talking about this later, you tactless dick.

Because it's not already bad enough that Philip and Cas appear to have gotten off on the wrong foot without Dean to supervise. Castiel was being presumptuous with a whole slew of things - for one, assuming that Dean would...y'know...take it like some bitch. Then there's the issue of bringing it up in public, but for some reason that bothers him less than the idea of bending over for some other dude.

Even if he likes the other dude a lot.

It's just emasculating, man.

So he flushes dark red, keeps his own head down, and steps up the pace to get back to the mansion, so grateful when they finally reach the foyer.

"Uh," Dean's voice is tight with anxiety and anger, but he nods quickly at Phil. "See you around, man. Stay...stay outta trouble."

[out-of-minutes.livejournal.com]

Cas may not be the most tactful guy in the world (can we say vast, vast understatement?), but even he can tell that conversational gambit fell more than a little flat.

Feeling somewhat sheepish even if he doesn't look it, he offers a lame and somewhat stiff half-wave to Philip, and follows Dean. Dean doesn't look like he's feeling well. And Cas suspects they need to talk, if he read Dean's look correctly. Perhaps Dean disagrees with his Nephilim lore?

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

Not sparing Castiel so much as a glance Philip throws Dean subdued words of goodbye and books it while trying to blank out Clarence's mock complaints about wanting to stay for tea.