[ Castiel squints the the article of clothing, train of thought grinding to a stuttering halt. ]
Uhm.
[ For a moment it's the only thing he thinks to say. The expression, he thinks, is whiplash - from emotionally charged, painful reunions to utter misery and depression, to alcohol and now to... confusion.
Does he think it will fit him?
What?
Castiel looks down at himself, puzzled. Pulls the fabric of his trench coat and suit jacket open further, away from his body, as if trying to take the measure and cut of his vessel underneath.
Things he never had to think about before: ... This. ]
I... believe so.
[ It reminds him of Emmanuel, briefly. Of that time after the Leviathan feasted on his grace and let him drown in a lake, when he was brought back and washed ashore naked and without memory, to be taken in by a kind woman. He'd given himself the name, because perhaps part of him, unburdened by the truth of his existence, had still believed it then: God is with us. He'd healed people without knowing how he was doing it.
Castiel remembers it, this time without memory of himself. It had made him gentle, he thinks, and kind.
[It doesn't look like he's in any rush. Castiel is visibly puzzled by the question and Bruce has anticipated this to some degree; he knows that thinking of himself and his needs isn't something that comes naturally. That it requires some prompting. So as Castiel looks down at himself, looks beneath his coat and scrutinizes his body, Bruce waits without interrupting. When the reply does come, he nods briefly, then folds the material over his arm. Begins leading them in the direction of the staircase.]
Thank you.
[He acknowledges that it's a little unfair to have made him come all the way up only to head back down again, but in his defense, he didn't know how long the journey would take, or if he'd find something suitable on the first try.]
[ Castiel follows, too distracted by the turn of conversation to really contemplate the logistics Bruce is imposing upon him. He just follows - the one thing in life he's good at. Or rather... he's better at it then at making his cown choices, and sometimes despite all that he's fought hard for free will, following is still a comfort he all but craves.
So for now, he does. Bruce leads. Castiel trails after. Gets momentarily distracted by something on a side table, picks it up and observes it before putting it back and following - if Bruce watches on their way, he will notice that sometimes. The way Castiel likes to look at things, intoxication writing the wonder clearer onto his features. It's not childlike - he does understand what things are and what their purpose is - for the most part. Still.... humanity fascinates him.
Angels do not produce art, they don't dream, they aren't even designed to feel.
And yet... and yet.
Castiel never lets himself fall far behind. Though sometimes he obviously gets distracted a little more, and has to close the distance with a soft flutter of wings. He manages not to fly into walls either, which Castiel personally counts as a win.
And after a while, the answer to the question comes, slightly hesitantly because he has a feeling that his answer won't quite satisfy the criteria of the question: ]
I don't require sustenance. Which is to say, I can eat, I just typically don't. Most things just taste like molecules.
[ He's been enjoying coffee though, which Bruce will be aware of - coffee dates with Riku were originally how Castiel "smoothly" justified checking in on the inhabitants of the museum, after all. ]
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no subject
Uhm.
[ For a moment it's the only thing he thinks to say. The expression, he thinks, is whiplash - from emotionally charged, painful reunions to utter misery and depression, to alcohol and now to... confusion.
Does he think it will fit him?
What?
Castiel looks down at himself, puzzled. Pulls the fabric of his trench coat and suit jacket open further, away from his body, as if trying to take the measure and cut of his vessel underneath.
Things he never had to think about before: ... This. ]
I... believe so.
[ It reminds him of Emmanuel, briefly. Of that time after the Leviathan feasted on his grace and let him drown in a lake, when he was brought back and washed ashore naked and without memory, to be taken in by a kind woman. He'd given himself the name, because perhaps part of him, unburdened by the truth of his existence, had still believed it then: God is with us. He'd healed people without knowing how he was doing it.
Castiel remembers it, this time without memory of himself. It had made him gentle, he thinks, and kind.
Sometimes he misses Emmanuel. ]
I don't... understand.
no subject
Thank you.
[He acknowledges that it's a little unfair to have made him come all the way up only to head back down again, but in his defense, he didn't know how long the journey would take, or if he'd find something suitable on the first try.]
Have you eaten today?
no subject
So for now, he does. Bruce leads. Castiel trails after. Gets momentarily distracted by something on a side table, picks it up and observes it before putting it back and following - if Bruce watches on their way, he will notice that sometimes. The way Castiel likes to look at things, intoxication writing the wonder clearer onto his features. It's not childlike - he does understand what things are and what their purpose is - for the most part. Still.... humanity fascinates him.
Angels do not produce art, they don't dream, they aren't even designed to feel.
And yet... and yet.
Castiel never lets himself fall far behind. Though sometimes he obviously gets distracted a little more, and has to close the distance with a soft flutter of wings. He manages not to fly into walls either, which Castiel personally counts as a win.
And after a while, the answer to the question comes, slightly hesitantly because he has a feeling that his answer won't quite satisfy the criteria of the question: ]
I don't require sustenance. Which is to say, I can eat, I just typically don't. Most things just taste like molecules.
[ He's been enjoying coffee though, which Bruce will be aware of - coffee dates with Riku were originally how Castiel "smoothly" justified checking in on the inhabitants of the museum, after all. ]