TEST DRIVE ∞ May 2025

[thediadem]

Test Drive ∞ May 2025

The First Collision

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Jump ⇅ :: Arrival — Panorama — Fringes — Invite Request

The Diadem is an invite-only panfandom game set in a retro-futuristic world where uprooted souls find themselves deep within an eerie wasteland of roads and highways frequently assailed by cosmic storms. Three united strongholds keep the population. Its capital is Panorama, a large metropolis at the planet's center.

Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Calling themselves fluxdrifts, the "locals" have similar stories to you, either for themselves or their ancestry. You speak to an old woman who claims she hailed from another star. You meet a young man who says his great-great-grandfather knew a strange language everybody spoke "back home." As you explore, you stumble across a coin you recognize or your sister's locket. How did it get here? What does this mean? That's for you to discover.

But first, you need to find a ride.

No invites needed to play on the TDM. Everyone's welcome! Use the Invite Request thread below to request an invite from another player.

∞ Summary ∞

IC-wise, arrivals are scattered throughout the month. Events described on the TDM are also ongoing throughout the month. If you'd rather jump right into the action, you're free to begin in media res with your character having already been on the planet for several days.

Post-impact, characters will wake up in a med tent by the Scrapyard. From there, they must accept a vehicle on loan and make the 2-hour drive to the nearest city, Panorama. If they refuse the car because they don't want the loan, they'll be in debt for medical bills instead...so just take the car. It'll come in handy.

Some things to keep in mind when bringing in your character:

• Pick an injury. At minimum, they got knocked out; at most, whatever they can recover from. Medicine is decently advanced so they'll heal faster if not painlessly.
• Decide items kept. Reasonable items on their person only: photos, keys, clothes, costumes. No pets or animal companions. Wildly out-of-place tech and personal cell phones will be damaged beyond repair.
• Select a weapon. Do this only if eligible. Guidelines about weapons and powers are on the FAQ.
• Choose a vehicle. Decide whether your character gets 2-3 options or if they're stuck with something they hate. Players can pick directly from our collection or source their own images. Anything under a similar aesthetic will work. If your character needs accommodations for driving, they can have them. Ask us for details.
• Get a phone. Characters have to obtain a phone (and a SIM card) themselves. If they've got one from home, it's damaged beyond repair. Phones are cheap. It'll only take a couple of weeks to afford one. You need to know the number before you text or call anyone. Read about phones and the Forum before you hop on it.

TDM threads can be canon if characters are accepted. Top-levels made to the TDM should be open to all.

TDM Questions? Here — Game Questions? FAQ

Setting — Taken — Reserves — Applications ::: ⇅ Top

Fluxdrift

Arrival & Introduction

Date: Throughout May

You've tumbled over a cliff. You were fighting for your life. You're on the cusp of death. You slipped in the shower. Whatever the catalyst, you struggle to cling to consciousness. As darkness overtakes you, a swirling vortex warps light and shadow in a way that defies all physics. A dark wail etches into your very bones. You couldn't describe it if you tried. You can barely comprehend what it is.

Then you open your eyes.

Through the figure's mask ©, you swear the face is grinning down at you. The tent you're in smells of antiseptic, and scratchy blankets line your cot. Injuries you've sustained have been bandaged. In the corner, you spot a MedBot that's fixed you up. Depending on the extent of your injuries, the doctor on duty might give you some painkillers before you go. Thankfully, your belongings are by the exit. Sorry if anything's damaged. Your landing was pretty rough.

You follow the figure outside. They are Yom Crook, here to lend a hand to fellow fluxdrifts like yourself. Their car's parked beside them. Actually, there are lots of cars around, but Yom Crook's stands out with its painted shark mouth. They explain they found you, unconscious, in a diffusion zone and brought you here. The nearest city is a 2-hour drive northeast. Forget about walking. You'll never make it. Also, you owe the doctor a lot of money for patching you up. But you're in luck: they've got some wheels for you and if you accept the vehicle on loan, Yom Crook will cover your medical bills. That's a good deal, right? It's not the shiniest car or motorcycle, but it'll do. If fortune favors, you'll get to choose between two or three options. Plus, if you need accommodations to drive—like adjustments to your seat height or modified controls—you'll receive all that for free.

Take the vehicle. (And the loan.) Yom Crook assures you that you'll have six months before collectors come around. Any time you're ready to pay a part of it down, return here to the Scrapyard. You'll get a receipt and everything. Paying off the loan in six months isn't impossible, but it will take a lot of work. Just don't get too lax. There's a good chance you'll be juggling multiple loans as you try to get by.

You either know how to drive, or you'll have a bare-bones manual to get you started. Road rules are more a suggestion than enforced, so just hit the pedal and go. The car has some basic features. The built-in compass will help you navigate.

OPTIONAL PROMPTS: a flat tire; a body on the road (is it a trap?); a fender bender

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Panorama

Explore & Settle In

Conditions: Warm spring temperatures, light showers

After 2 hours on the road, you find civilization. The largest of the strongholds, Panorama is where the economy thrives. Massive power plants glowing red make it visible from a distance. The city is divided into three districts. For now, you can access the Pavilion and the Blocks. Don't worry about the Sanctum; they're not letting you in.

You only need to know two things about Panorama: 1) it's big, the size of a modern metropolis, and you'll need your car to get around; 2) anything goes as long as you don't pick a fight with the wrong person. Street smarts will get you far. Despite its geographical size, the population isn't huge. With roughly a million people in a city designed for over twice that number, Panorama is far from deserted, but nor is it overcrowded. It's a good thing. Resources are limited as it is.

The Pavilion: Free Samples

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Like any large city, Panorama features a couple of supermarkets. The stock's not as consistent as a proper supermarket. On occasion, shelves can remain cleaned out for a week or two. Regardless, the long tradition of free samples remains. If you're not already shopping, you'll notice the crowded parking lot and clusters of lines inside.

Try samples, push through the crowds as you shop, or give yourself a five-finger discount. If you're cautious, you can pocket a few small items without consequences. The Pavillion doesn't have the infrastructure for surveillance; unless someone sees you, you won't be caught. Steal from the store or pilfer someone's wallet. Maybe you even make a new friend if you bump into another fluxdrift. Or, start a fight with somebody who cut you off in the cheese line. Don't make too much of a ruckus, or you'll be thrown out.

As you look around, you'll see posters advertising temporary positions for the cash register or graveyard shifts in the warehouse. Seems they might've lost several employees recently (how'd that happen?), which is good for you! It's just a 6-week position, but it'll get you on your feet. The city has temporary positions like this all over. Permanent ones are harder to come by when you're new.

Samples include: steamed cabbage dumplings, synthetic cherry juice, cheddar cheese, and chocolate-covered alien eggs (it's crunchy and weirdly tasty). They're served in the usual throwaway paper cups with little toothpicks.

The Blocks: Power Outage

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Power's finicky in Panorama, especially in the Blocks. Saint Margery's Hospital, located in the same area, has priority for power so the first to go are the motels. Maybe you've been in your room for a couple of weeks, maybe you just got here—and by the way, every motel desk is happy to put the fee on your tab if you don't have the money upfront—but all the motels on the east side are in a blackout, leaving only the west side motels up and running.

What do you do? You have three choices:

• Risk leaving your room and head to the other side where there's power. Knock on some doors and negotiate with another to share the room. They might shut the door in your face, ask for a favor in return, or be nice enough to help you with no strings attached. There's no guarantee your unattended room will be untouched, though, and you'll be on the hook for any damages an intruder causes.
• Sit in the dark and deal. It's not the worst idea, but the TV's down, the vending machines are powered down, and with the entire place plunged into darkness, you risk getting robbed. If you struggle with defending yourself, you might want to find some trustworthy company. You can also sneak out of there and let them take your leftover pizza. It's not like you've got a ton of valuables, right? Plus, clobbering someone in the face with a frying pan sounds great until you realize you've gotta do something with the body. And what if this person's got a friend waiting?
• Get in your car and drive (or grab a friend for a road trip). If you scroll the Forum, you might notice reports on diffusion zones southward. Besides, these motels are hardly your forever home. The city can only provide so much. Why not go for a ride and see what you can find out there?

OPTIONAL PROMPTS: clean up on aisle 3 (what is that goo?); a knock at your door but no one's there; you hear screaming or a commotion down the hall

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©

The Fringes

Quad 3: Lockdown

Conditions: Stormy, with flooding roads

Felix Bjurstrom
> Date: 125-05-17
> Time: 02:15:57

> Emergency road lights have been reported in Quadrant 3! Please, can someone go see what's there? When last we chasers investigated emergency lights, a whole truck filled with sour candy had tipped over. Our stores were stocked for weeks! Oh, be careful - reception looks bad in that zone.

Whether you end up here on your own or you were following a tip on the Forum, the outcome is the same: you come to a stop in front of a 2-story office building that's flooded several inches deep. Emergency lights from a roadblock flicker through the stormy night. Stepping out of your car, you're soaked within seconds. When you check your phone, you don't have any bars. No calls in or out.

Through the open windows, a computer awakens and displays a cheerful smile. The lights inside switch on.

Pick your scenario role below. Your thread partner doesn't need to take the opposite role! They can join you in the same scenario (i.e. trapped together). Players are also free to create a generic NPC for the other side to facilitate the thread.

After characters escape, they'll find one bottle of antibiotics in their pocket or car, whether they remember taking it or not.

A: Sealed In
As you peer through the windows, you see crates of medicine floating around. Antibiotics in the diadem are valuable. Hospitals and doctors are always buying. You can keep it for yourself or make a quick buck. Or maybe you're compelled to help somebody back in the city who's in need. Whatever the reason, you decide to take the risk and step inside.

Water splashes around your ankles. The lock buzzes behind you. If you try to break the windows, you discover they're unnaturally resistant to shattering. With the whole place locked tight, the water begins to churn. Then the computer lights up again.

Warning, it flashes in large, bold text. Quarantine in progress. Release code required for exit.

• To find the code, you'll have to search. Duck under the water, go through sopping envelopes and sticky notes or pick the locks on the filing cabinets and desk drawers. You can also try hacking the computers. Use your computer knowledge or fall back on the age-old trick of seeing who wrote down their password.
• The files, notepads, and emails start innocuous, but as you look through them, disturbing phrases jump out at you—a dark thought you've had or a cruel taunt from someone in your past. The longer you're fixed on the terrible words, the higher the water begins to rise. Only another can break you out of your trance.
• With the rising water comes fear. And the more you're afraid, the more the water also rises. You begin to see faces in the water, bobbing like balloon heads. Do you recognize them? If you move to take a closer look, they will sink back beneath the surface as if never there.
• If you manage to swallow your panic, you can eventually find a triple-laminated binder with the release code and instructions. Bad news: you need someone on the outside to punch in the 6 strange symbols in order. The instructions explain that the code panel is located at the back of the building.

Let's hope a friendly face comes along.

B: Set Free
As you peer through the windows, you see not just the crates of medicine but someone trapped inside. They look like they might be in trouble, and from your vantage point, you notice that the water is bubbling strangely. It's definitely not normal rainwater. As you watch, the water rises unnaturally, stopping and starting. It's as if the water level is responding to an external stimulus.

• The glass is soundproof. You can't hear what the person inside is saying, so you'll have to communicate with each other another way. Try charades, typing on your phone, or whatever you think of. Eventually, you determine that they're stuck and that you need to enter some sort of code onto a pad located—according to your trapped partner—at the back of the building.
• Around the back, shadows swallow your surroundings. The panel must be pried open, but a slippery substance makes it hard to get a good grip. Each time the substance touches you, you grow uneasy. You swear you see eyes watching you, though when you turn around, nothing's there.
• You can't seem to keep the instructions in your mind. And those symbols...they burn into your retinas. Through them, you glimpse an incomprehensibly massive figure unfurling in the darkness, pulsing as if in a deep sleep. When you snap back to reality, you realize you've injured yourself, slicing your hand on a sharp edge or a bruise you can't remember getting.
• Once you manage to release the doors, the water inside the office drains upward into the sky as though sucked out by a giant hose. The darkness spreads. Get out of there fast before the shadows drag you or your partner into the void.

Of course, you don't have to help anyone. You can leave the individual there, make a deal, or outright extort them. But remember, you're not the only person on these roads. You might want to play your cards carefully, even if altruism isn't your first instinct.

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Comments

Arrival & Introduction

[yeahmagnets]

[ He doesn’t quite remember hitting the floor. One second, Hank’s fist is pummeling his face like he’s trying to pound Jesse into something pure, or dead, or both, and the next, his vision whites out. Everything tilts. Something inside him gives. Bone? Willpower? Doesn’t matter. He’s weightless. Then the world splits open. Light tears sideways. Gravity forgets what it's doing. Jesse spirals into something deeper than unconsciousness. A vortex warps the corners of reality, light spinning into sound, sound into shadow. A scream scrapes across his spine like rusted claws on glass. He tries to breathe, but there’s no breath left in him. Time doesn't exist. Neither does he, maybe. All that's left is a single, fractured thought: This ain’t the end. It’s just a new kind of hell.

And then, he opens his eyes. The air smells like bleach and blood and antiseptic. Harsh light slices through the seams of a patchy tent. Scratchy army-surplus blankets itch against his skin, and there’s a pressure bandage wrapped around his chest that makes every breath feel like a dare. A MedBot clicks quietly in the corner, its mechanical arms folded like it’s just waiting for someone else to fall apart. Across the room stands a figure in a mask. They introduce themself as Yom Crook and offer him a ride, a deal, a life. Jesse doesn't ask too many questions. His eye is still swollen, and his head throbs like there’s a drumline playing in it. But he listens. Nods. Because what else is there to do?

He owes money now for being saved, for not dying in some weird, inter-dimensional gutter. They call it a loan, but it smells like chains. Fine. Whatever. Jesse’s had worse strings tied to him. They take him out to the lot. The van that catches his eye isn’t flashy, but it’s loud in its own way. A matte gunmetal 1986 Chevy G20, rigged together like it’s survived every apocalyptic road war the world forgot. Welded armor plates patch the side panels like a Frankenstein exoskeleton. The front grille’s been reinforced with rebar, and a cracked red siren light sits on the roof - nonfunctional, but ominous. Inside, the dash is scrawled with marker tags and names Jesse doesn’t recognize. The seats are mismatched and duct-taped at the seams. He climbs in. The van groans like it’s waking up angry. ]

Yeah. [ Jesse wraps his fingers around the wheel, giving it a testing squeeze. ] You’ll do.

[ He doesn’t get far before it happens. Cruising down a slick road, what feels like a couple hours from the Scrapyard, engine humming and compass twitching on the dash, Jesse rounds a bend and sees headlights. Too close. ]

Oh shit!

[ He jerks the wheel. Tires scream. The van skids sideways, gravel exploding under the wheels, and he swerves off the road, fishtailing into a shallow ditch before he can stop it. The van bounces, then slams still, angled hard, engine still coughing. Jesse just sits there, knuckles white on the wheel, heart banging against his bruised ribs. No damage. No blood. But he’s pissed. He throws open the door, storming out, no clue who the other driver is or what kind of heat they might be packing, but Jesse’s vibrating with the kind of reckless adrenaline that begs for a target. Act first, think later. ]

Yo! What the hell, man?! You blind?

[ Were you driving the other car? A passenger, caught in someone else's recklessness? Hitching a ride in his van? Just a witness, parked nearby, or driving/walking past? ]

Driving by the accident

[godjr]

[ It has been slow going for Jack since getting his motorcycle because he doesn't know how to drive it and keeps crashing. So sometimes he just slows down and looks at the strange world around him. He is going approximately thirty miles an hour, just enough to not be too wobbly, when he hears a pretty loud shriek of tires and then a crash. He adjusts the blue helmet on his head and heads in that direction. Someone might need help.

He parks near the ditch and the motorcycle falls over because he's not good at balancing it yet, and he keeps the helmet on as he walks over, but then a man is coming up out of it yelling. Jack understands. He would be upset too, if his car was damaged like that. He glances over to see that the other person who was in the accident simply flips Jesse off, ignoring the bad dents in their car and damage, and just decides to drive off while they can. No honor amongst drivers apparently, it's not like they have insurance. ]

I can probably get your car back on the road if it still drives. Are you hurt?

[ He doesn't look like anything special on the outside, but the truth is much more complicated. He's young, barely looking old enough to drink, but his tone is very polite and his expression honest, concerned. Jack is supposed to not show any supernatural abilities so he can be accepted by the normal people here, so he'd have to decide on that in a few minutes. ]

[yeahmagnets]

[ Jesse watches the other car screech away, flipping him off like he was the one in the wrong, and it ignites something white-hot in his chest. He throws both hands up in disbelief, voice pitching toward a frustrated growl. ]

Seriously? You sideswipe me, run off like a little bitch, and I’m the asshole?!

[ No point in yelling, but he does it anyway. The offending car is already shrinking in the distance, and it'll be long gone by the time the van gets in working order. He turns back toward the van, still tipped at a stupid angle in the shallow ditch. His ribs ache with the effort of yelling, and his breath comes sharp, adrenaline fraying at the edges now that the immediate danger's passed. That’s when the kid(?) steps up. Jesse squints at him, sizing him up defensively. But no, this one looks weirdly calm. Helmet still on, voice polite. Jesse blinks once, then again, not sure if he heard correctly. ]

You can what? [ He glances between the kid and the van, incredulous. Then back again. He rakes a hand through his hair, fingers catching on grit and sweat. The sarcasm practically falls out of him before he can stop it. ] Look, unless you’re hiding a tow truck in that helmet, I don’t see how you’re fixin’ to get that beast back on the road.

[ There's no real venom behind the sarcasm, just tired disbelief and a little whiplash from the whole situation. Jack’s tone isn’t smug. He’s not posturing. That throws Jesse off more than anything. He exhales sharply, his shoulders finally starting to sag, the tension bleeding out slowly. ]

Sorry. I'm just...it's been a long day. I'm not hurt. Not worse than I already was, anyways. [ He glances at the van again, scuffed but still upright, a hand gingerly pressing to his ribs, feeling the pressure bandage beneath his clothes. One of his eyes is bruised and swollen. He chews on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, then sighs. ] Think we could try popping it in neutral and pushing it out? [ He's skeptical, but it's better than standing here and doing nothing. ]

[godjr]

[ That is something Dean would do, for sure, so Jack relates to it. It would be frustrating. He considers using his powers to pop one of the man's tires so he would be stranded and they could have a stern talk, but focusing on his new friend's car situation is probably more important. He looks at the car and back at Jesse, passively letting him get out his feelings since it seems like he has a lot of them. It's perfectly reasonable. This situation is confusing. ]

It's okay. I'm glad you're not injured. I'm going to do something scary, okay? You don't have to be scared though. I want you to have your car back.

[ Jack told himself to try and act like a normal human as long as possible, but he is truly terrible at that, and it wouldn't be right if he stood there and acted like he couldn't help get the car out of the ditch. What was he supposed to do, let it break and leave it? No, that would be mean.

Jack hops down into the ditch and puts his hands underneath the car. He gets the best grip he thinks he can have and starts to lift. He is very strong but he rarely uses it this way, but his father's power is especially bursting inside of him at the moment, so it is very easy for him to simply lift it over his head and walk up onto the road. It looks as if it weighs no more to him than the helmet on his head, and that's mostly true. He's an angelic Superman here.

He is very careful when he sets it down but it does clang a little and he frowns, flinching. He looks back to Jesse and his eyes glow an inhuman white-gold.]

Sorry, the balance was a little off. [ He adjusts it to make certain it is solidly on its tires again. Success. ] Okay, there.

[yeahmagnets]

[ There’s a split second where Jesse doesn’t think anything of it. The kid says he’s gonna do something scary, and Jesse figures maybe it’s some weird metaphor. He opens his mouth to say something snarky, but then the kid lifts the van. Like, lifts it. Not a jack under the frame. Not a push from behind. He picks it up over his damn head. Jesse just stands there, lips parted, expression blank. Not because he doesn't feel anything, but because his brain has just quietly left the chat. His hands are half-raised like he’d been about to help, only to freeze in place as if his nervous system went into a factory reset. The Chevy hangs in the air like a toy, like gravity forgot its job for a second, and Jesse’s pupils track it the whole way up until it’s back on the pavement.

When the van clunks down and the kid turns around with his eyes glowing like sunshine caught in glass, Jesse staggers a half-step back as if his body finally catches up to the fact that something deeply unnatural just happened. His breath hitches in his throat, his jaw tightens, he tries to swallow but his mouth feels too dry. He doesn’t run, but it’s clear some deep part of him is screaming: That ain’t normal. ]

Yo. [ Another beat. One eye squints. The corner of his mouth twitches. He’s still not sure whether he’s terrified or impressed. Maybe a little of both. ] You, uh...you wanna tell me what the hell you just did? 'Cause I don’t know what protein shake you’ve been chugging, but that was not Gold’s Gym shit. Like, not at all.

[ His tone isn’t angry. It's not hostile. If anything, it's full of a strange, wary awe. Maybe a little excitement. Is this some superhero shit? He glances back at the van, now perfectly parked like it never left the road, then back at the Super Strength Kid or whatever. ]

You an alien, or like...or like some kind of robot?

[godjr]

[ Jesse's lack of screaming or scared reaction is greatly appreciated because Jack would much prefer someone be impressed by him than be upset. It's nicer this way and he can save the car without feeling bad about showing off. Jack's always wanted to have a reason to show off without it being something that makes other people hate or fear him, which seems to be the default reaction. Which he understands is normal and human, but it makes him automatically a monster in the eyes of someone else.

His new friend isn't looking at him like that, which is nice so far. Jack waits, as if expecting there to be yelling, but instead Jesse talks and doesn't call him names, so he relaxes, smiling. He isn't pretending to be human so he can just tell him the truth. ]

I'm a Nephilim. Half-archangel. I'm glad you aren't scared, I promise I would never hurt anyone intentionally.

[ The intentional part is sort of a key. And also, he should add now, because he's hurt people before, but he's not so stupid as to bring attention to that with someone new. The point is that Jack is trying very hard to be good and not hurt anyone like he says. He is in much better control of himself and his powers these days. He can handle this. Usually he just says half-angel but considering he has archangel power radiating through him at the moment, he might as well use the right term. ]

I'm Jack. I'm also half-human though, if that helps.

[yeahmagnets]

[ Jesse doesn’t say anything at first. Just blinks slowly, like maybe if he closes his eyes long enough, the whole scene might rearrange itself into something that makes sense. But, no dice. Van’s still upright out of the ditch. Kid’s eyes are still glowing. And now the word Nephilim has just dropped into the conversation like that’s a normal-ass thing to say. ]

...A what now?

[ He stares, not at Jack’s face but at the space just above his shoulders, like maybe there’s gonna be wings that sprout there. But there aren't. There's just a relatively normal kid standing there with a look on his face like all of this is completely reasonable. Jesse, a little dazed, drags both hands down his face. ]

Okay. Okay, cool. Half-archangel. That’s...yeah, that tracks. Totally. Interdimensional EMT drops me into a tent, people totally disregarding like, regular traffic laws, uh mystery kid lifts a fuckin’ van...sure, why not? Next up, talking raccoons and space wizards. I’m here for it.

[ The words come fast, tumbling over each other, but the sarcasm’s lost its bite. He’s not mad. Not even freaked out anymore, exactly. Just trying to reorganize the whole filing cabinet of his brain around Nephilim. A beat passes. Then another. Jesse tilts his head, eyes narrowing more out of curiosity than suspicion. ]

You always go around lifting cars outta ditches for people, or am I just real special?

[ He smirks a little. There’s still adrenaline bleeding off him in waves, but it’s less intense now, softened by the sheer absurdity of the moment and Jack's calm. It's a little contagious, honestly. Jesse steps toward the van, giving it a once-over before he casts a look back toward Jack. ]

Your bike can probably fit in the back if you wanna hitch a ride or somethin'...

[godjr]

[ Jack waits respectfully for Jesse to take in the information. He knows it can be a lot and most normal humans don't know what to do with that information. It's why hunters don't tell people a lot about what they do, to protect them from having headaches. But considering he had to pick up the car and make his powers known, he couldn't lie and say he was a human after that to this one. His eyes stop glowing and go back to their average blue. ]

I know it's confusing but once you accept one thing is possible, everything being possible becomes a lot easier to swallow.

[ So the fact he's in another universe in this bizarre situation, plus the fact there is an angel kid carrying his car around, perhaps everything after this will seem low on the list of strange things that's happened to him today. Jack hopes so at least. He was raised in the midst of the madness but he's dealt with a few people who didn't know anything, and it did seem to make it easier for them once their head wrapped around one thought at a time. ]

It's my job to help people.

[ Although Jack isn't sure being a hunter is possible or likely here. He has to reconfigure what expectations are surrounding monsters in their own universe, maybe he shouldn't be so judgmental. As long as he's trying to do good, he's following the family way.

The offer is a surprise but he smiles instantly, the delight evident on his honest expression. ]

I would like that! I'm still not very good at driving it. I've crashed three times.

[ Luckily the bike is not beaten up as badly as it could, and obviously there's not a scratch on him, but it might be good for him to give it a rest until he can figure out how to tackle it again. Jack goes over and lifts his motorcycle with one hand, as if it's a child's toy, and takes the invitation at its word, setting it in the back. ]

Don't worry, if someone tries to hit the car again I'll just stop them.

[yeahmagnets]

[ Jesse watches the bike settle into the back of the van like it weighs nothing. Jack handles it with the ease of someone rearranging furniture, and Jesse doesn’t say anything at first, just leans back against the side of the van with arms loosely crossed, taking it all in. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to that. His expression is something between contemplative and vaguely amused. The silence stretches, then he lets out a quiet and stunned laugh, the sound low and breathy, like it’s been knocked loose from somewhere deep in his chest. ]

You’ve crashed three times and still look like you just walked out of a spa day.

[ He shakes his head, not mocking, just trying to wrap his brain around this bright-eyed angel kid with the power of God(?) and the patience of a kindergarten teacher. He wipes his hands on his baggy jeans and then holds one out, a Borneo scorpion tattoo visible on the back of his hand and disappearing beneath the cuff of his hoodie. ]

Ride's a start, but I still owe you a thank you. I'm Jesse.

[ After the greeting, he walks around the side of the van to open the door and slide back behind the wheel. The van groans under his weight like it remembers the ditch and doesn’t forgive easily, but the engine rumbles to life again when he turns the key. The dash glows. The compass twitches back to life like nothing happened. He waits until Jack’s climbed in and then rests his hand lightly on the wheel, not starting forward just yet. There’s something raw and unnameable flickering in Jesse’s expression now as he glances across the cab, something just shy of awe. ]

I don’t get a lotta people like you, man. Like, most people? They don’t help unless there’s a price tag or a reason that circles back to them. Every conversation’s a deal. Every hand’s already halfway to your wallet. And sure, yeah, I shake hands and hand off product and crack jokes and whatever, but it’s always just noise. Just business. You? [ He gestures vaguely, still figuring out what the hell to make of Jack. ] You pick a stranger out of a ditch and say some wild shit about angel blood and your job being to help people like that’s normal. Like it doesn’t make you different, y'know? Not used to it but, like, I guess it's...it's kinda nice.

[ Jesse doesn’t let those words sit too long. He doesn’t want to get too sincere or sappy. He taps the brakes and eases the van out of park, letting it roll gently forward. ]

But hey, listen, if you’re gonna ride with me, you gotta pick some music. That’s the rule. Angel or not. No dead air in this van.

[ He says, gesturing to the radio. Besides, he's kind of curious to see what kind of musical taste this guy has. The van creaks as it hits the road again, but the ride is smoother this time. Easier. Jesse’s still sore, still bruised, still trying to make sense of this place. But he’s not alone now, and maybe that's making a difference. ]

[godjr]

[ The only scuffing of Jack is on his clothes and even then it's like some dirt and grime on his jeans and gravel that got onto his sneakers, but otherwise he looks very put together and fresh. He mirrors Jesse because he learns best from watching other people by wiping his hand on his jeans and shakes his hand. Gently, of course, since he doesn't want to break him. ]

I'm Jack. I really like your tattoo, that's cool. I got one once, but it healed right away.

[ It was frustrating for Dean at the time because they thought they could try and hide him from monsters with their common tattoo, but Jack's skin healed the moment the needle stopped. It's too bad because he would have loved to have one like the rest of his family and the other hunters, it's something other people got to have in common.

He gets into the passenger seat with Jesse and turns toward him. He listens intently to everything that he says without interrupting, very curious. Jesse says a lot all at once and he likes that, he's used to pretty quiet and acerbic people. Him and his father Castiel can go hours without exchanging a word and it's fine, none of them are conversationalists. But Jesse is, he can tell, he likes that.]

As long as it's nice.[ That would be a short response but Jack is going to do more for his new friend. ] I am very different. I try to make friends but I scare people because of my powers, even my family, sometimes. [ It's strange, but Jesse being so open and talkative makes him feel like he can do the same. ] I really just want to do good and help people, but I understand too.

[ He is scary. He's used his powers improperly before. It wasn't always his fault, and he often was using them thinking he was doing the right thing, but he was wrong. Jack's still learning and he's better at three than he was at two and one, but it's a process.

He's not used to having any control over the radio. That's Dean's choice always. He'd get in trouble if he tried. Jack smiles brightly at the offer, like this is Christmas Day to him, and he pokes at the radio. It takes a few moments to adjust to where they are and he listens carefully. He tries a few options out until they land on something that sounds like classic rock, either from Earth or from another universe out there, but the sound is the same. Think AC/DC or Led Zeppelin. ]

This is what my family listens to!

[yeahmagnets]

[ Jesse's still adjusting to the weight of everything (that ditch, that glow-eyed kid lifting his van like it’s made of cardboard), but somehow, it’s not the strength that sticks with him. It’s what Jack said when they shook hands. I really like your tattoo. Like it actually meant something. He flexes his fingers on the wheel, glancing down at the abstract, tribal-style scorpion crawling up the back of his wrist. ] It's a Borneo scorpion. A symbol of protection, they said. [ He explains, not that it ever kept much danger off his back. But it meant something when he got it. Still does, even if it’s faded around the edges now. ]

Sucks you can’t keep one. But maybe we could, I dunno, draw one on? Marker or pen, or something. Not permanent, obviously, but it could still look badass.

[ His tone is easy, casual, but there's a thread of sincerity underneath it. The kind that slips out when he’s not thinking too hard. When someone surprises him by giving a damn. Jack talks about scaring people, about how even his family sometimes flinches. Jesse doesn’t push. He just nods a little, quiet for a beat. ]

Yeah. I get that. Some people go off, like, bad first impressions instead of stickin' around to find out more. But what I came to find is those just aren't your people, man.

[ He doesn’t elaborate. Some truths don’t need all the details spelled out. Jack starts fiddling with the radio, and Jesse half-expects something weird or churchy to come through the speakers. But what comes on instead is low, raw, and guitar-heavy. It's something with grit in the vocals and just enough soul to hit his chest. Jack lights up beside him, and Jesse follows suit, a little rough around the edges, a little used to putting up a front. He's always chastised for not taking things seriously enough, so being able to let loose a little bit is nice. ]

Your family’s got good taste. [ Jesse looks over at Jack briefly before looking back towards the road. ] So you got siblings? Or is it, uh, cousins and stuff?

[ It’s a simple question, but there’s something tentative behind it, like Jesse’s not just making conversation, but actually giving a shit. There's also the sensitive topic of his own family. The parents he doesn't get along with, the younger brother they accuse him of corrupting. He wants to understand this kid, though, who offered help without asking for a damn thing back. So, asking questions is a risk worth taking. The van rolls forward, tires humming steadily against the road, and for the first time in a while, Jesse doesn’t feel like the world’s trying to spit him out. ]

your Jesse is AMAZING just wanted to say

[godjr]

It's important to have protection symbols wherever you can. They have meaning, even if it doesn't seem obvious.

[ The tattoo that was supposed to go on his skin was one too. If Jesse has made it this far in his life, there's no reason to think the tattoo had nothing to do with it. It could have blessed him, whether he believed in it or not. In Jack's experience, they did mean something. For humans especially.

He brightens at the idea of having a drawn on tattoo, smiling, having never thought about that. ]

I would like that very much. Thank you.

[ It seems like an offer that a friend might make. Something small and thoughtful and sincere. Jack doesn't have friends so he latches onto the idea of anything symbolically that could be like one. Jesse might just be being nice but he'll take any ounce of kindness offered his way. He longs for connections, big or small. Jesse's commentary about bad impressions lingers in his mind and he considers it. ]

My kind slaughtered theirs, it was reasonable to be afraid. But I saved them and they let me be one of them. I don't blame them for their fear. You seem ... much less fearful though. I'm grateful.

[ There were people who would see him lift a car and want to run away from him because of it. The people in the Apocalypse world were murdered by angels, to them all angels were bad. They never lost their fear of him but he did become one of you and proved himself every day as different. It's not only for them he has something to prove.

Jack is intuitive despite being an innocent in many ways, and he studies Jesse from the other side of the car. He might have an accidental tendency to stare, something he has been working on. Castiel does the same. It's a lack of understanding about social cues. His new friend is not displaying any fear but he reminds him of Dean a little, he might be acting tough. He's taking the situation calmly all things considered. He wonders a great deal about him. ]

I have four fathers. Dean and Sam are human brothers, Castiel is an angel, like me. My biological father is an evil creature, cruel and violent. My mother fled him before she died and they raised me together. I am very lucky, they were supposed to kill me.

[ A Nephilim is too dangerous, and Jack definitely is that. But Castiel chose to let him live and so did Dean and Sam, although Dean wanted to get rid of him for months when he first arrived. Jack is glad to be alive, he really doesn't want to die again. ]

Do you have a family?

you're too kind :') a little canonblind, but jack is great!

[yeahmagnets]

[ Jesse doesn’t answer right away. The road stretches out in front of them like a scar, silver and wet from the last round of rain, and the sky overhead hangs low with the kind of bruised clouds that don’t promise anything good. His hands stay steady on the wheel, but his jaw tightens just enough to betray the shift under his skin. Four fathers. An evil one. A dead mother. Raised by an angel and whatever else fate tossed into the blender. Jack says it all so matter-of-fact, like it isn’t the wildest thing Jesse’s ever heard...and Jesse’s heard some shit.

But it’s that last question that lands like a stone in his chest and sinks his heart into his stomach. Do you have a family? He exhales slowly, fog blooming on the windshield before the vents chase it off. His voice is quiet when it comes, not defensive nor bitter, just worn out. ]

Yeah. Technically. [ A pause. ] I got parents back in New Mexico. Real clean-cut, y’know? Normal Rockwell types. Church every Sunday. Front lawn trimmed like a fuckin' golf course. And then there’s me.

[ The laugh that follows is dry. Not cruel, just dulled at the edges like something worn down too many times. ]

They stopped calling when I dropped outta college after the first week. Kinda stopped looking at me like a son way before that, though. I think they thought I’d ruin my little brother. Maybe they were right.

[ He taps a rhythm against the steering wheel with his thumb, like he can drum the feeling out of his bones, a muted percussion meant to ground him. He doesn’t look at Jack. Maybe part of him is afraid he'll see pity there, and sometimes he's not sure empathy is something he deserves. ]

Guess that’s the thing, though. You don’t get to choose who you come from. But you can choose who you put yourself around. You got people who gave a damn. That counts.

[ Another pause, then softer: ]

Sorry about your mom, by the way. [ Jesse swallows. ] I had an aunt. Ginny. She was more of a mom to me than mine ever was. Always made sure I ate, y’know? Made me feel like I wasn’t just some screwup kid. She got sick a few years back, though. Wasn't around for long after that.

[ He shrugs like it doesn’t still ache, like it isn’t one of the only losses he doesn’t make jokes about. Like it isn't one of the things that kick-started his effort to escape with substances. The silence that follows isn’t heavy, though, because he keeps most of those thoughts inside. ]

She woulda liked you. [ Jesse adds after a moment, turning his head to spare a glance at Jack. There's something honest and warm in his eyes, as brief as the look is. Like an ember that never quite went out. ] You’re weird as hell, man. But, like...in a good way, y'know? I can tell you got a good heart.

[godjr]

[ Jesse is quiet so Jack is quiet, and Jack is an excellent listener. He doesn't interrupt, he just lets Jesse say what he wants to, head tilted, his expression a mixture of blank but somehow also warm. Receptive. Open. It is a sad tale. He knows that parents aren't always like his. The majority of the time people struggle with family, they don't have certainty like he does. He frowns and he empathises even if he can't understand it the way Jesse does. ]

It sounds like they only cared if you were acting in a way that they wanted, not that they loved you for who you are, as you are. Ginny was your parent because she loved you the way one is supposed to. Unconditionally. My fathers love me even though I'm flawed and I've done bad things. I wish yours would have done the same.

[ Jack took their love for granted in some ways. He got too used to having it. He lost Dean's and he's never gotten it back. Parents are a tricky subject, he knows that, and he can tell in his friend's body language that this is difficult for him. Painful, even. He would be very sad if their positions were reversed, or rather, he would have probably destroyed the world if so.]

My mother died because of me. A human can't survive the birth of a Nephilim. I killed her by existing. She was a very good person and so brave.

[ He got to meet her in Heaven, at least. That was worth dying the first time if only to finally see her. Jack smiles at him, hesitant but hopeful. ]

I can tell the same thing about you. Your parents were wrong to make you think you had to be perfect. Everyone's imperfect. Even God himself is. But you care and you try. I can see it.

[yeahmagnets]

[ Jesse doesn’t say anything at first. He just lets the road spool out in front of them like a ribbon unraveling from the center of the world: gray and endless and maybe, for once, not leading straight into a wall. The music hums quietly through the speakers, some classic rock slow-burn track, all bluesy twang and aching chords, like it’s underscoring the parts Jesse can’t say aloud. Jack's words echo, soft but steady, pressing against those walls he spent years putting into place, brick by brick. For once, the words don't bounce off. They settle. They find their way in through the cracks. Your parents were wrong to make you think you had to be perfect.

He swallows hard, jaw tight, eyes still on the road. Something shifts in his chest. It is't quite pain nor grief, but a sad sort of recognition. Like realizing you're not just being looked at, but being seen. Not the version people expect or tolerate or pity, but him. The fuckup. The runaway. The man who made too many bad choices just trying to feel loved and accepted in a world that kept kicking him to the curb. And he still tries. He still shows up, in spite of every experience that should have made him give up.

Jack’s voice is steady and honest. There's no angle to it that Jesse can sort out. It's the kind of compassion that Jesse's been waiting for for so long that now he doesn’t know what to do with it. He glances over quickly - just a flick of his eyes, enough to catch the quiet warmth on Jack’s face and that weird blend of both innocence and gravity. The way someone carries truth when they’ve both broken things and been broken by them. ]

My mom...I didn’t kill her. But, I think I killed the part of her that gave a shit about me.

[ The words slip out before he can catch them, the kind of truth that’s lived for too long without air. He winces a little, like the words sting on the way out, and then he shrugs it off, always trying to make it smaller than it is. Always deflecting. A defense mechanism nearly older than he is. Jesse scrubs a hand over his face, then taps his fingers against the wheel again, softer this time. The kind of rhythm that’s not about escape anymore. A beat to match the hum of the road and the strange, quiet company he’s found. An innate inability to sit still, like the disquiet in his soul bleeds into every part of him. ]

You’re real easy to talk to, y’know that? [ He finally speaks again, a smirk inadvertely tugging at the corner of his mouth, maybe more honest than he should be. ] Like, dangerously easy. You keep that up, I might start spilling all my deep, dark secrets. Could get embarrassing.

[ He laughs under his breath, trying to shed the heaviness in the air with a little levity. The van rolls on and, for once, Jesse doesn’t feel like he’s running. He doesn’t feel like the next moment’s gonna collapse in on itself. It's just wind, road, music, and this strange, kind, half-angel he happened to run into. What a trip. ]

[messenger]

[ castiel has been behind the wheel a few years now. enough to have seen his fair share of accidents. but, shocking though it may be, has never been in one— until now. he's coming up behind the chevy in his own rusted impala 2001 when the van comes around the corner. he swerves his car in the other direction. instead of beached in a ditch, he merely spins out, tires screaming as they leave long black stripes on the pavement. all in all, he's more concerned about the car than his own body. and it doesn't seem like anyone was hurt.

but the man in the other car is angry, and as the person driving the van steps out it's clear they're disposition is no better. should he go, or...

no, probably not. feeling harried, looking harried, castiel steps out of the car. ]

Are you all right?

[ he's speaking to both of them. ]

[yeahmagnets]

[ Jesse doesn’t answer right away. He just stands there in the wet gravel at the side of the road, chest heaving like he ran a marathon he didn’t sign up for. He winces at the bruises still blooming across his ribs and his face from earlier, but his focus is locked on the van (his van) angled awkwardly in the ditch. The front bumper’s crooked, nose-down into the mud, engine still clunking away like it thinks it can get out on its own. He swears under his breath. ]

Yeah, I’m fine. [ He responds to Castiel, but his eyes are still surveying the damage. ] But I dunno about my ride.

[ His voice is gravel-laced, tight with leftover adrenaline and the deep-rooted, ever-simmering frustration of someone who’s constantly one shitty situation away from losing everything. He scrubs a hand over his face, pushing his hoodie back from his forehead, then shoots a glance toward the other car (the one that actually caused this whole shitshow). The door flings open, and a guy steps out already halfway into a tirade: ]

You were the one who cut me off! Learn how to fucking drive!

[ The other driver is younger than Jesse, but he can't tell by how much. He's got a neck tattoo, a mouth full of bad attitude, and the kind of overconfidence that usually ends in sirens. He throws his hands wide in a theatrical gesture, like he’s daring Jesse or Castiel to contradict him. Jesse doesn’t rise to it. Not yet. His jaw tightens, hands flexing at his sides. His eyes flick toward Castiel, then back to the loudmouth, then down again at the van, sunk in muck and bad luck. He lets out a slow breath through his nose, trying to bite back the instinct that wants to start throwing punches before asking questions. Instead, he points down at the van, voice low and tight. ]

Oh yeah? Then explain how I ended up in a ditch while your punk ass is still on the road. [ Jesse’s not looking for a fight, but if this guy keeps pushing, he won’t walk away from one, either. What's another bruise or two? His gaze swings toward Castiel again. ] You saw it, right? [ Yep, he's gonna drag you right into this, Cas. ]

[messenger]

[ his "ride" looks rather worse for wear, but to be honest, they all do. even the man who cut him off isn't driving in a pristine vehicle, but he supposes that's besides the point. it's going to be difficult to get to the city without something to ride in. two miles is a long walk, even when you aren't human.

castiel looks between them, mute until he's dragged into the altercation against his will.

he didn't have to stop.

he did this to himself. ]

... Yes?

[ he offers, truthfully if reluctantly. the other man puffs up, no doubt to regale them with some angry diatribe, but castiel cuts him off. ]

I can get your van out of the ditch.

[yeahmagnets]

[ Jesse blinks. He turns to the stranger, this trench-coated guy who looks like he just walked out of an apocalypse-themed thrift store, calm as hell while Jesse’s practically vibrating with all the leftover adrenaline. He kind of looks like a cop, but not the kind Jesse’s used to; there’s no flex in him, no ego. Just stillness. The kind that makes Jesse want to flinch for no reason at all. Like the guy can see through him without even trying. ]

You can get it out? [ Jesse's voice is flat, skeptical, as he nods toward the van, nose-deep in roadside muck. ] Listen, yo, unless you got a tow cable stashed in that coat, I don’t see how.

[ Jesse lets out a breath, runs a hand over the back of his neck, tension still tight across his shoulders. He mutters a curse under his breath, then looks back at trench coat guy. ]

I dunno, I mean...if you’ve got some way to do it? Hell, I’m not picky. Just don’t expect me to believe you got some miracle tucked in your pocket or whatever.

[ It’s not quite sarcasm. More like guarded hope dressed up in a scowl. Jesse’s not used to anyone offering help without a catch, let alone someone who does it like it's no big deal. He steps back toward the van, gravel crunching underfoot, the driver who caused the fiasco deciding to get back in his car and drive off. Not his problem. Jesse motions towards the van with a half-hearted shrug. ]

Guy was lucky my ribs hurt too much to throw down.

[messenger]

[ any other person might look at jesse and immediately typecast, but castiel doesn't have that kind of experience with humanity. he can't read souls just by looking at a person, the way some angels do in in the stories humans write about them, but people are just people. most of the time, however they act, he finds all they're trying to do is their best. with careful stress on most.

but somehow, the situation deescalates. the angry man leaves and it's just the two of them and their cooling cars. one thing he can tell by looking at jesse, he's just as new to this place as castiel himself is. ]

You were hurt—?

[ castiel's brow furrows in concern, but first thing's first: he walks through the ditch around to the other side of the van, careless of his now mud-caked shoes, and studies it. then, he places both hands on one side and— pushes. it looks ridiculous. anyone seeing this picture would think castiel has lost his mind. but a moment later, the van groans as the metal bends under its own weight bearing down on the force of castiel's pushing. thankfully, it doesn't buckle. the tires drag deep tracks in the mud, but though it's slow going, that's proof that the van is, indeed, moving. ]

[yeahmagnets]

Yeah, I guess. When I got here. I mean, I was hurt before I got here too, but that was just...the face thing. [ He gestures to the not-so-subtle bruise over his cheekbone, his eye swollen half-shut. ] Ribs are new. Woke up with one of those MedBots patching me up.

[ Jesse explains with a shrug, then watches Castiel descend the ditch to the van. His eyes narrow as he sees him press both hands against the rear of it and his mouth falls open when the van actually starts to move. Not slide. Not tip. Move. Inch by slow, grinding inch, like it’s being convinced against its better judgment. And all trench coat guy’s doing is pushing. No winch, no hydraulic lift, no dramatic grunt of effort. Just steady pressure and impossible strength from someone who looks more like a librarian than a bodybuilder. Jesse stares for a second too long. Blinks once. Then lets out a short, incredulous breath that barely qualifies as a laugh. ]

What the hell?

[ It’s not hostile. It's more stunned than anything. Jesse’s shoes sink into the gravel as he steps toward the edge of the ditch, watching the van crawl up through the mud like it’s being coaxed back to life. He doesn’t know how the hell this guy’s doing it, and honestly, at this point, he’s not sure he cares. It’s working, and that’s what matters. Still, there’s a lingering tension in his shoulders, the kind that never really leaves. The kind that says he’s used to people having an angle. People don't do nice shit for him for free, not where he's from. He crosses his arms, one hand rubbing absently over his ribs where the bandage tightens with every breath. ]

Okay, man, I’ll bite. What’s your deal? You some kind of roadside superhero or just freakishly strong for fun?

[messenger]

[ yes, jesse doesn't look... the best, even aside from the injuries he may or may not have sustained in the near-wreck. it's fairly obvious he didn't obtain the bruises on his face from the recent commotion, though that's rather besides the point, isn't it? stupid question, castiel thinks to himself, and then considers his own state waking up, and the state of some of the other people he's met along the way.

they've all had injuries of some kind. they've all been different, but the fact of them is consistent.

his own should have healed up hours ago. it's led him to be a little more cagey about using his powers than is the norm, but this. this, he couldn't resist. it's such a simple thing to do, and it feels good to help fix a problem, when he's so adept at creating them.

castiel climbs up out of the ditch and looks at jesse with an expression that's not quite a smile. you'd have to really look close, or know him quite well, to understand the barely-there upturn at the corners of his mouth counts for one. ]

I'm not human.

[ he's kind of getting the jist, here, that angel is a little more difficult for most people to swallow.

with a blink, he looks back to the van. ]

I don't think there was any damage to your vehicle. Are you going to Panorama, too?

[yeahmagnets]

[ Not human. It's up there, but not the weirdest thing he’s heard in the last twenty-four hours. After waking up in some kind of alternate dimension, there isn't a whole lot that could shock him. His eyes drift toward the van, now back on semi-solid ground, smeared in mud but intact, and he exhales like he’s letting go of a held breath he didn’t know he was holding. The tension in his jaw starts to loosen just a little. ]

Woke up in a med tent in a world I’ve never seen before with busted ribs I don’t remember earning and now I got trench coat Jesus draggin’ my van out of a ditch with his bare hands. Totally normal day.

[ He scoffs out a laugh at the absurdity of it all, then rubs his face again, half in disbelief and half in exhaustion. The adrenaline’s fading now, leaving behind a hollow kind of ache in his ribs and a sharp reminder that he hasn’t eaten since he got here. His stomach turns, but he ignores it. He watches Castiel watching the van, calm and still like this is just a Tuesday for him. Jesse doesn’t know what to do with that kind of peace, so he defaults to sarcasm, the closest thing he has to armor. But the humor fades fast. Jesse scratches the back of his neck and shifts on his feet. ]

Seriously, though...I uh, I owe you one... [ He furrows his brows when he realizes he doesn't know the guy's name. ] What's your name, man? I'm Jesse. [ He offers a tattooed hand in greeting, which Castiel can shake or not, glancing down the road as the other guy asks about the city. ]

Yeah. Heard about it from some dude back at the scrapyard. Panorama. Look, I know you got your own wheels you probably don't wanna leave behind, but maybe we could like...caravan it? Y'know...follow? I mean. Safety in numbers, right?

[messenger]

[ castiel opens his mouth to correct the young man— he isn't jesus— but it becomes clear as he speaks that he doesn't mean it literally, and castiel saves himself the embarrassment for once when jesse offers his name and makes obvious what he had suspected. ]

Castiel,

[ he answers, taking jesse's offered hand to shake, though castiel's handshakes are really more of a prolonged hold. he gives jesse's clasped hand a quick pat with his own free hand before letting go.

for a moment, he looks confused, but he's saved again by jesse's clarification. ]

Yes, I think that would be a good idea. [ his eyes drift from jesse's face to his bruised side. ] I'm sorry I can't do more to help.

[ but if he's ready to go, so is castiel. he'll return to his car to follow. ]

we can probably start to wrap this unless you would like to write out a pit-stop :)

[yeahmagnets]

[ Jesse watches Castiel shake his hand, or...hold it, without hesitation or judgment. Just calm. Doesn't seem like the kind of calm that people fake when they're trying to seem tough or above it all, either. Just the stillness of a guy who physically moved a damn van and didn't even ask for a thank-you. A guy who looked at a stranger half-swallowed by roadside gravel and said, I can help. Not because he wanted something. Just because he could. It doesn't really compute for Jesse. He narrows his eyes a little, trying to figure out the other guy's angle, but nothing comes to mind.

He turns his head to look down the road. It stretches ahead of them, cracked and unfamiliar. Panorama's supposed to be a city, but it might as well be a rumor at this point. All Jesse knows is he's driving toward something. A maybe. A fuck-it-let's-find-out. He glances at the van again, coated in muck but somehow still running. Like him, kind of. Bent up, but not down for good. He nods toward the direction they're supposed to be headed in, taking a few steps towards the driver's side of the van. ]

Cool if we stop somewhere on the way? Like...I dunno...gas station, maybe? I could use some snacks. And, uh, ice, if they got it. [ He gestures to the swelling around his eye with a grimace. ] Shit's startin' to throb like it's got its own pulse.

[ He shrugs it off, though. This isn't the first time he's been a little worse-for-the-wear physically, and God knows it won't be the last. His ribs protest with every step, an arm curling protectively across his middle and around his side, but his posture is looser now - less coiled. He doesn’t look back to see if Castiel's following. Just trusts that he is. Jesse slides into the driver's seat, gives the steering wheel a couple encouraging taps, then sticks his arm out the window, palm up in a wave or a thank you as he fires up the engine. The van coughs to life, groaning but alive, and Jesse pulls back onto the road slow, waiting for Castiel's car to fall in behind him. Dust rises behind the tires like smoke trailing off the past, and ahead? Just open road, and maybe a little hope if you squint. ]