[ they're practically immortal here. he might be capable of killing one of his own kind, much as he hates to do it. but if they just came back every time? what then? ]
[ Aurora may have specific self-defense measures to prevent anyone who tampers with her from coming back; Harold isn't discounting it. And he also isn't discounting the many non-lethal ways to deal with a problem, though he realizes people like John and Castiel are not prone to considering them when there's what seems to them a more obvious solution. ]
Yes, please. We can meet in the library and I'll show you how to install everything.
[ and he will be. it only takes half a second for him to teleport from his perch in the bunker to harold's library, so he'll find him there perusing the books when he arrives. ]
[ Harold ambles in from the front entrance carrying his usual messenger bag of electronic equipment and heads to Castiel. ]
Thank you for meeting with me, [ he says with his typical courtesy, but then pauses, hesitating. ] Are you certain it won't cause you any duress to go down there again? I have to confess you being an angel has been rather academic to me so far. It's hard to imagine.
[ He can grapple with just about anything intellectually, but when he tries to think of Castiel surviving such conditions without discomfort, as he'd put it, it runs up against a mental wall of minor incredulity. ]
I could demonstrate if it'll give you some peace of mind.
[ castiel turns away from the books and toward harold, glancing down at his bag. will the equipment hold up? he'd ask, but he assumes harold knows what he's doing. castiel certainly doesn't, when it comes to technology. ]
[ he should be suspicious. he's talking to a crazy mfer. ]
Well— [ castiel begins to root through his pockets, pulling free a switchblade and a cheap dollar store lighter after taking a few moments to find them. ] —the level of magnitude leaves something to be desired regarding the ability to make an accurate comparison, but if you need proof that I'm impervious to damage...
[ Harold puts two and two together with that last comment and barely manages to swallow a yelp, making an aborted lurch forward like he's going to snatch the knife and lighter away from him. He restrains himself but ends up clutching the strap of his messenger bag with supreme annoyance. ]
Do not hurt yourself in front of me out of a misguided attempt to reassure me, [ he says tightly. ] Honestly!
castiel doesn't make any attempt to keep his things from him, but since he doesn't actually try to take them, they stay right where they are, safe (?) in castiel's hands. (they would be far safer in harold's.)
castiel narrows his eyes. he peers at harold, and his face softens. ]
... Harold, that was the point. These things can't hurt me.
[ He narrows his eyes right back, suspicion deepening. ]
Define 'hurt,' [ he insists. ] If you're pricked, do you not bleed? [ Sorry, just a casual Shakespeare quote here. ] Do you feel pain?
[ What if Castiel can go to the 100th subbasement floor but is in excruciating pain the whole time? Harold can't ask him to do this if that's the case. ]
[ Harold cautiously relaxes at that assurance, feeling his sense of alarm promptly abate several notches. He doesn't think Castiel would deceive him about something like that; he's entirely too straightforward. ]
I'm not going to hit you in any case, [ he huffs. Harold turns and lifts his bag onto a study table, unloading tiny advanced surveillance devices. ] I also made you a physical communicator for the network resembling an early 21st century cell phone.
[ He hadn't forgotten that; he takes it out and offers it to Castiel with a trace of grumpiness still on his features. ]
[ that's very kind of harold. castiel had completely forgotten about it.
but before he acknowledges the favor, he can't help but note his observation: ]
You don't like violence.
[ he takes the phone as it's offered, inclining his head. he pockets the knife and the lighter, then opens the phone to inspect it as though he has any idea what he's actually looking at. ]
[ Grumbling, ] No, I don't like violence. I recognize it as a necessary evil at times, but it's not something I ever want to become comfortable with. And not ever towards a friend.
[ He's not judging others who are comfortable with violence -- Harold is all too aware he depends on them to do his dirty work, and he won't flinch from that or look down on them -- but he personally just can't stomach becoming that kind of person.
Seeing Castiel stare at his phone blankly causes him to add, ] I enabled the voice commands on that as well. [ Harold is meticulous like that. ]
[ castiel doesn't take any sort of offense; maybe someone like sam or dean might, but he's a wholly different creature. humans aren't any more prone to violence than any other animal, but angels were built for it. ]
I appreciate it.
[ he glances up at harold again. ]
You know, when I met Dean, the first thing he did was stab me in the heart.
[ it's a little on the nose, all things considered. ]
[ He reads that expression in a second flat. His usual companion is John Reese, who makes about every facial expression at 10% of normal human capacity. ]
[ He assumes from his demeanor that he's already feeling something of a guilty conscience over it, so Harold doesn't try to lecture him.
He says mildly, with just a touch of asperity, ] Next time perhaps use your words instead of your fists. [ Does Castiel know this expression? If not, he should. ]
That's how we got into the fight in the first place.
[ he does feel guilty, though it's less due to the assault and more so due to the topic of the argument itself. it was a stupid thing to fight about, and he knew better, but— ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I don't object to the idea, it's just
My experience with modern day technology is
limited
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I can instruct you. It should be fairly straightforward from your side.
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All right.
Should I come to you?
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Yes, please. We can meet in the library and I'll show you how to install everything.
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[ and he will be. it only takes half a second for him to teleport from his perch in the bunker to harold's library, so he'll find him there perusing the books when he arrives. ]
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Thank you for meeting with me, [ he says with his typical courtesy, but then pauses, hesitating. ] Are you certain it won't cause you any duress to go down there again? I have to confess you being an angel has been rather academic to me so far. It's hard to imagine.
[ He can grapple with just about anything intellectually, but when he tries to think of Castiel surviving such conditions without discomfort, as he'd put it, it runs up against a mental wall of minor incredulity. ]
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[ castiel turns away from the books and toward harold, glancing down at his bag. will the equipment hold up? he'd ask, but he assumes harold knows what he's doing. castiel certainly doesn't, when it comes to technology. ]
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What would a demonstration entail? [ he asks, a little suspiciously. ]
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Well— [ castiel begins to root through his pockets, pulling free a switchblade and a cheap dollar store lighter after taking a few moments to find them. ] —the level of magnitude leaves something to be desired regarding the ability to make an accurate comparison, but if you need proof that I'm impervious to damage...
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Do not hurt yourself in front of me out of a misguided attempt to reassure me, [ he says tightly. ] Honestly!
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castiel doesn't make any attempt to keep his things from him, but since he doesn't actually try to take them, they stay right where they are, safe (?) in castiel's hands. (they would be far safer in harold's.)
castiel narrows his eyes. he peers at harold, and his face softens. ]
... Harold, that was the point. These things can't hurt me.
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Define 'hurt,' [ he insists. ] If you're pricked, do you not bleed? [ Sorry, just a casual Shakespeare quote here. ] Do you feel pain?
[ What if Castiel can go to the 100th subbasement floor but is in excruciating pain the whole time? Harold can't ask him to do this if that's the case. ]
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[ not normally. if you took an angel blade to him it'd be a different story, but... ]
I would've told you to hit me, but I'm afraid you'd break your hand.
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I'm not going to hit you in any case, [ he huffs. Harold turns and lifts his bag onto a study table, unloading tiny advanced surveillance devices. ] I also made you a physical communicator for the network resembling an early 21st century cell phone.
[ He hadn't forgotten that; he takes it out and offers it to Castiel with a trace of grumpiness still on his features. ]
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but before he acknowledges the favor, he can't help but note his observation: ]
You don't like violence.
[ he takes the phone as it's offered, inclining his head. he pockets the knife and the lighter, then opens the phone to inspect it as though he has any idea what he's actually looking at. ]
Thank you.
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[ He's not judging others who are comfortable with violence -- Harold is all too aware he depends on them to do his dirty work, and he won't flinch from that or look down on them -- but he personally just can't stomach becoming that kind of person.
Seeing Castiel stare at his phone blankly causes him to add, ] I enabled the voice commands on that as well. [ Harold is meticulous like that. ]
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I appreciate it.
[ he glances up at harold again. ]
You know, when I met Dean, the first thing he did was stab me in the heart.
[ it's a little on the nose, all things considered. ]
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Considering he'd just been dead, I suppose I can't blame him, [ he says pointedly, ] but I do hope you're past that now.
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[ castiel glances from the equipment to give harold a look that's toeing the line of guilty. ]
We did get into an... altercation on the train.
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Define altercation.
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[ a stupid argument. but then, they're stupid. ]
I almost hit him.
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He says mildly, with just a touch of asperity, ] Next time perhaps use your words instead of your fists. [ Does Castiel know this expression? If not, he should. ]
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[ he does feel guilty, though it's less due to the assault and more so due to the topic of the argument itself. it was a stupid thing to fight about, and he knew better, but— ]
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[ Not that Harold never gets into altercations, but definitely not because he couldn't explain himself well enough.
He unpacks some small sleek battery packs and wires and starts plugging things into one another. ]
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