A prayer is an invocation or act that seeks to activate a rapport with an object of worship through deliberate communication. In the narrow sense, the term refers to an act of supplication or intercession directed towards a deity, or a deified ancestor.
It can take a variety of forms: it can be part of a set liturgy or ritual, and it can be performed alone or in groups. Prayer may take the form of a hymn, incantation, formal creedal statement, or a spontaneous utterance in the praying person.
More importantly, it need not be so formal. A prayer can be a strong sense of longing or yearning for someone or something. For salvation. For aid. For mercy. For death.
[ Lucky nobody is around to see the way Vanitas goes red, a flush of embarrassment that makes him warm from head to foot. Had he, when he hit the beach, in a moment of weakness, really thought of her?
He's never been the kind of person to call out for another person, not on purpose, despite the way his heart yearns so violently to be whole, or at the very least, for peace. He's only ever been alone. Who would he even call for? ]
I didn't mean to.
[ But more than that...
He's struck with the idea that someone would have answered at all. ]
That impacts neither the validity nor intensity of your feelings. A prayer comes into existence for a reason. It shouldn't go unanswered.
[ None of Castiel's prayers have ever received answer. He can't fix himself, he can't help himself. What he can do is answer other people's prayers - even if he may not always be the answer they wish to receive. ]
[ Vanitas understands the idea of it. He might even go so far as to say he's bore witness to such a thing before— but the real question isn't what a prayer is. Or how it works. If Vanitas had sent one out, what had he meant by it?
The truth is he doesn't even remember invoking her name. Finally, after a few long minutes, he sends back: ]
[ Castiel's mind and being work differently. There's little that can disorient his memory. He can pass out under extreme circumstances, but his memory has no mercy on him. His mind stays sharp and present until he goes under.
Few things make an angel pass out.
Very few.
He's not quite sure why but... in light of their conversation, Castiel adds: ]
I would have done more had I been able to. Or less had you been able to make the request.
Of that I have no doubt. I do believe we'll have to postpone until your wounds have healed. I wouldn't dare rob you of the illusion of chance, after all.
[ He feels a spike of frustration at Bruce for revealing the one secret he keeps so closely guarded, but fatigue keeps him from getting really worked up about it just yet. He'll talk to that guy later. ]
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Prayer?
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A prayer is an invocation or act that seeks to activate a rapport with an object of worship through deliberate communication. In the narrow sense, the term refers to an act of supplication or intercession directed towards a deity, or a deified ancestor.
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More importantly, it need not be so formal. A prayer can be a strong sense of longing or yearning for someone or something. For salvation. For aid. For mercy. For death.
You longed for Dr. Solis before you passed out.
I apologize that it was I who heard and answered.
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He's never been the kind of person to call out for another person, not on purpose, despite the way his heart yearns so violently to be whole, or at the very least, for peace. He's only ever been alone. Who would he even call for? ]
I didn't mean to.
[ But more than that...
He's struck with the idea that someone would have answered at all. ]
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[ None of Castiel's prayers have ever received answer. He can't fix himself, he can't help himself. What he can do is answer other people's prayers - even if he may not always be the answer they wish to receive. ]
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The truth is he doesn't even remember invoking her name. Finally, after a few long minutes, he sends back: ]
I don't remember.
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[ Castiel's mind and being work differently. There's little that can disorient his memory. He can pass out under extreme circumstances, but his memory has no mercy on him. His mind stays sharp and present until he goes under.
Few things make an angel pass out.
Very few.
He's not quite sure why but... in light of their conversation, Castiel adds: ]
I would have done more had I been able to. Or less had you been able to make the request.
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[ It's true of Vanitas, anyway. Pain begets Darkness, and that is where his power comes from. Not just figuratively, but literally. ]
It's done. If you regret it, it's too late to take it back.
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I'd like to see you try.
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[ That's a challenge Castiel could rise to. He shakes his head, lips curled into a small smirk. ]
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Go on, underestimate me. You'll get what's coming to you.
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[ But he's right. As he is, Vanitas wouldn't have a ghost of a chance. ]
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Magic doesn't work right in this place.
[ Then, after a pause that somehow manages to be awkward even over text: ]
It's fine. I've had worse.
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How did you find yourself on the shore? Bruce mentioned you would not usually seek out water on your own.
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Chance.
It's where my Corridor ended as I fled.
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Yes. They stopped me from getting to the other side.
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What did you encounter, exactly?
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[ He's never seen a squid before, he doesn't know that's what they looked like. ]
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