Message Delivered

Title: Message Delivered
Time Period: February 15, 135 A.E.
Characters Appearing:

Summary: A message from beyond is delivered.

The sun glares brightly, reflecting off patches of snow and the water, before ducking back behind the intermittent clouds — shadow, light, shadow, light — it's enough to give one a headache, but Beisdean is happy to be out in the sunshine riding Iago for the first time in days.

He's riding fast, as if the devil were after him, but as the bay beast and its rider bear down on Cas where he walks down the road, the pedestrian can see that Beisdean is happy, the grin of a thrill seeker on his face. Still, once he sees the other man, he slows the horse immediately into a trot and finally a walk, coming to a stop. Beisdean immediately hops down from Iago, one hand going to the creature's throat to soothe him for having cut the run short.

"Hey, Cas," he says with a nod to the other, looking just a little awkward as if there's something more to say, but he waits for the other's acknowledgement first.

Sounds of horses being ridden hard isn't unknown to Cas Blackburn, but it still draws his eyes. Enough people walk in this town that when people ride it draws his attention, and right now, also, makes him step off the road so not to be accidentally trampled. Not that the other man could possibly know that's why he looks as if he's startled at seeing him. Startled at most anything right now, for facts.

"Baze!" he calls out, recognizing the man, and seeming to stick with the shortened version of the name he chose last time they talked. The horse gets a longer glance over, a smile spreading across his face as he actually raises a hand to wave at the horse as well. "Afternoon, Iago," he adds outloud, before flashing his grin back to the owner.

"You two look in a good mood today." Cas, if nothing else, looks dirty. There's fresh mud on his knees, as if he fell in a puddle, and he's definitely not wearing his best clothes on whatever errand he happens to be walking to and from.

"Good to be out. Had a bit of a cold," Beisdean says, his throat still a little rusty sounding, as he dips his hat to the other man. Iago snorts with a shake of his mane and Beisdean laughs. "He's unhappy I cut his run short, don't mind him. You look like you're not having as good of a day." There's a nod toward the other man's mud-stained knees, though Cas seems to be in a good enough mood.

Iago's reins are coiled in Beisdean's hands, and he begins to walk in the direction Cas was headed, though it's the opposite of his own destination. He glances at the other man with some amusement.

"Not… having a very good month, actually," Cas says, glancing down at his clothes as if scrutinizing the month he's had from them alone. They certainly look as if they have seen better days. He hasn't had the nerve to take his newly gifted clothes out for a night yet—

"But— that'll be done with soon, hopefully," he says, scratching at the back of his neck as he looks toward the horse with some regret and continues the walk along the road toward his errand. So many errands. And so much of it walking.

"Sorry you've been sick— Glad to say I haven't had that issue. But seem to be over it, so I won't have to tell you not to breathe on me."

Beisdean's brows lift. "A whole month of bad luck, hmm? Luckily it's the short one," he teases. "I'll try not to breathe on you much anyway."

He walks a few steps, brows furrowing as he studies the ground ahead of them, looking as if he's trying to decide something, then finally takes a breath. "This is going to sound odd… um. You remember what it is I can … do? Magic I mean. Not that I do a lot of it. It just sort of happens whether I want it to or not." He breathes out a sigh that rises like a white cloud into the sky above them, just as the sun dips back behind another white cloud, instantly darkening the landscape as the shade falls across them.

"Well, only half a month I suppose," Cas says quietly, looking up toward the sky as if he could count the days of the month by the way the sun is. Really he can't. He'd lose track of the day if other people didn't keep track of it for him.

He hesitates for a moment at the mention of magic, glancing back over at the taller man with eyebrows raising. "I— I think so. The… you see…" That's when his voice trails off and he stops completely. "Oh bloody— " he starts to curse softly, before he asks perhaps the craziest question anyone would ever ask, "I'm not dead am I?"

This is what he gets for trying to help one of his vitality-challenged visitors. Beisdean's eyes widen and he shakes his head earnestly, before he cracks a grin. "No, mate, you're quite alive. Sorry to scare you that way… But aye, that's what I can do. Talk to the dead. You just don't happen to be one of 'em."

He continues to walk, studying the ground again, uncharacteristically uncertain of how to bring up this topic. "Your sister. She came to talk to me. She wanted to know how you were, to be sure you remembered her," he finally says quietly, starting with the easier of the topics he's meant to discuss with the other man. He lifts his eyes up to the sky as well, studying the clouds rather than looking at Cas; his posture is a bit stiffer, as if he's waiting for an onslaught of insults or threats.

There's relief on the man's face as he learns he's not among the dead already. Cas was about to start cursing gypsies for taking too long! Luckily he doesn't have to. Even as he starts to walk again, though, the words wipe the smile off his face, and cause him to stumble.

"My… sister?" he says softly, voice almost a whisper, before he runs to catch up, reaching toward the taller man as if to try and stop him, and his horse both. "Which sister? When did she— how— " So many questions he probably wants to ask, but there's definite worry and pain in his eyes. Even if there's nothing he can even do about what he's hearing.

The other man stops again, gray eyes seeking the toes of his boots rather than to look at the fretful Cas. "She said her name was Priscilla," he says quietly, turning to look up at Iago as the beast stomps an impatient foot. "She was different than most of them, so I talked to her. Wanted to help her, I guess. Usually I don't. I'm sorry, I don't mean to cause you any pain or be the bearer of bad news…"

His eyes finally find Cas' face, and he heaves a sigh that's a mix of exasperation and regret.

"Priss?" Cas says quietly, letting his hand drop away and allowing the other man to walk again should he choose. The horse obviously would like to. It doesn't take too long for the pain in his eyes to turn into actual moisture, but he doesn't keep looking at the man long enough to force him to see it.

"No, it's— not like I would have found out any other way," he says quietly, voice sounding distant as his hand presses against his chest. There's still a cord around his neck, though it isn't the one that held his sister's cross. Instead it holds something heavier.

"I— she wanted to…" he says quietly, squinting a bit as he ries to remember what the man was saying before shock overcame everything else. "I haven't seen her in ten years— but of course I remember her. She…" he trails off, before he reaches up to rub at his eyes.

Beisdean turns away from the man as he tears up, but one hand reaches to pat Cas on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, mate. I didn't know you didn't know… I thought it was a long time ago, or I'd've said it maybe a bit better." He shakes his head at his lack of thought, then looks back at Cas, sympathy in his eyes.

"I think it was an illness. Nothing … you know. Nothing violent, at least," he offers as some consolation — though the argument could be made that illnesses are slow and drawn out, whereas a violent end is at least abrupt.

The rest of what the ghost asked him about is not forgotten, but ignored for a few moments before he sighs and lifts his eyes back up to the clouds that break again for the sun to blind them both.

"She asked about her necklace," the taller man finally manages. "She said it was supposed to keep you safe." He leaves Mariah's name out of the conversation.

"I left home when I was still a kid," Cas says quietly, explaining why he wouldn't have known any other way. Though not quite, at the same time. Not being violent does seem to relieve him, a bit, even if he still looks sad and bothered, and even steps into that pat on the shoulder more than he probably should.

At least he's not tripping at the moment.

"Her necklace… I— I still have it— well, right now Mariah has it," he says, bringing up the prostitute without thought. "But she was going to give it back to me after I… after I get un-cursed." Is un-cursed a word even?

Beisdean's brows lift. "Un-cursed?" he asks curiously, then shrugs, nudging Iago into motion again so that they can continue their forward walk.

"She was upset that you gave it away," the medium says as diplomatically as he can, given that the subject of the ghost's disdain is a friend of his as well. "She thought you'd forgotten her. Apparently she saw it, and that's why she came to talk to me. Asked me to see how you were. She was worried for you, it seemed." Each word is quiet, spoken with a soft respect for the sister without making eye contact with Cas. "Why do you think you're cursed?"

"I didn't really give it away," Cas says quietly, trying to defend himself, even if he seems in doubt from his voice. Not to mention he's still all teary, but he's trying to act as if he's not. "She's more… borrowing it," he adds. Even more in doubt of his own words, from the tone.

"Oh— uh— I saw a Black Dog," he says absently as he continues walking. Not even glancing around as he does. "Started having a lot of accidents after." Though he hasn't tripped over his own feet much while walking right now. "Just little accidents, but one of the gypsies read my… tea? And said that I was cursed. They're going to fix it, though." He adds with a return of that smile, finally. "Hopefully soon."

"Did said gypsy charge you a fee for this reading and for this countercurse by any chance?" Beisdean says with a chuckle and shake of his head. "I mean, yeah, there are magical entities out there, but there are also plenty of mundane entities willing to take advantage of a scared man."

He squints at the sun in the sky to gauge the time. "I should get back to town — I've a delivery to make. What would you like me to tell your sister if she returns? That it's just a loan, and you're doing all right, but for a bit of the bad luck, mate?"

"Does a pair of socks count?" Cas says quietly, looking distant at the idea that he might have been jipped. "They didn't really ask for anything, though," he adds on. Still sounding a little defensive. Of himself. And the gypsies.

When the man squints and starts to dismiss himself, he slows down, looking back at the man and hesitating. "Yes— yes please do. I…" He bites his lip before rubbing at his eyes again, then he's suddenly moving. Again. And unless Beisdean dodges well, he'll find himself pulled into a hug. "And give her that for me, will you?"

The sudden embrace startles Beisdean, and also Iago, who whinny-snorts in an exasperated manner. Less hugging, more galloping, is clearly his commentary on the events unfolding. Iago's rider chuckles, reaching up to pat Cas on the shoulder twice, before nodding. "Will do." It's easier to agree than to explain he why he's not really keen on hugging the ghosts when they seem fresh from death to him.

He turns to lift one foot up into Iago's stirrup and then throws his other long leg over the saddle. "Try not to fall in any more puddles of mud, aye? Watch your feet, keep your eyes open — a countercurse can't hurt, but you can counter a lot of bad luck just being alert."

The hug doesn't seem to bother Cas nearly as much, based on the small smile when he pulls back away from him and watches the man mount. "I'll try," he says as he backs off, taking the advice to heart, even if he doesn't sound as if he believes his curse is a simple case of inattention.

Maybe it is, cause he tips against a rock with his heel and stumbles backwards a couple steps almost as soon as he says that. "Ow. Uh— have a good run, Iago. You too, Baze," he says, waving a hand up at the both of them to see them off