uberboned | IC CONTACT POST

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IC CONTACT POST

[A woman's voice comes over the line.]

You've reached the Trickster's voicemail. Unfortunately, Mr. Trickster isn't available to take your call, nor will he likely ever be. Should you still wish to leave a message, please respond after the tone, and maybe we'll remember to get it to him, mmkay?

[Beep]

[[OOC: This is an IC voicemail post for all verses games. Please put the name of the verse/game you want in the subject heading.]]

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[He missed Gabriel's weird looks and didn't even know it.]

Several months. I am alive, again.

[As opposed to being dead for good like he'd thought.]

Rei's gonna throw a fit. [And he segues right into something wholly unrelated, but sounds like it could be related.] How did you get married to someone you've only known for a minimum of half a year? That's not love. That's a country music song waiting to happen.

Rei did not throw a fit.

[So there. And he gives Gabriel an unimpressed look for that deduction.]

How is it different from any of the other bonds I have formed with others in the same span of time? It is simply called something different.

Marriage, Castiel, is binding. You'd be better off marrying Sam or Dean at this point. At least you know they're a little bit psycho. Daphne could be Ted Bundy and you'd- well, you'd know, but would you care if she wasn't hiding bits of strippers in the basement?

It isn't any more binding than anything else, particularly as I don't legally exist. She is not 'psycho', Gabriel, nor do we have a basement.

So we can rule out 'married you for your green card,' huh? Who even proposed?

[He has to think about that answer for a moment.]

I did, technically.

[....]

So one day you just went, "Let's get married" and you did? Was it at least in Vegas?

Essentially. No, it was in Colorado.

This story just keeps getting better and better. Next there's gonna be a cattle ranch.

We do not have any cattle, Gabriel, nor are--

[And then he stops, because he's speaking in present tense, and that's wrong.]

I'm just trying to paint a picture here. [Gabriel noticed, but he also doesn't care much. Castiel can sort out the existential bits of this later.]

[He's quiet a moment before continuing.]

It was quiet, and peaceful. Truly so.

[Gabriel bites off his next sarcastic retort and makes a noise that's probably more scoff than sigh, but whatever.]

At least you came back from the dead, and got a happy ending. For once.

[He gives Gabriel a look for a moment that's some strange combination of sad and amused, before he looks away.]

You know such things don't occur in our world.

What? It got worse? How the hell could it get worse? It had dual apocalypses over the course of two years.

There are Leviathan in it.

[But that's not quite what he meant, though he's not about to explain what he was going to do. Just that he isn't going to have a little picket fence life anymore, which is fine. He knows he doesn't deserve it after everything that's happened.]

Still?

It has only been half a year, Gabriel.

The freakin' Winchesters wrapped up an apocalypse in half a year. Are we gonna have to invest in younger Messiahs now?

They had a great deal of help in the Apocalypse.

[And Sam wasn't half insane, though also not saying that.]

...And most of those people are dead now. [Whistle] Still. You'd think they'd have pulled a plan outta their asses by now.

Nothing has ever seen or dealt with these creatures before. They knew how to deal with angels.

[And a small pause.]

They will figure something out. It's simply taking them longer for many reasons.

And you keep dying.

Yes.

[It's something he seems to do a lot, really. Though the Winchesters still have him beat.]

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