Baseball Team Meeting.

[thursdays_angel]

Castiel has had a new opportunity to make signs, and multicolored flyers have gone up all over the bar.

There will be a Team Meeting
for those playing with Castiel
on the baseball diamond, beginning at 4 o’clock

On the appointed day, he sets up his meeting at the baseball diamond. Castiel has witnessed meetings like this before. And he has prepared accordingly.

A beverage called Kool Aid seems to be popular, so Castiel has provided three large pitchers’ worth—one red, one purple, one green—along with paper cups. And several boxes worth of cookies. Some upended crates from the building supplies serve as makeshift tables. There is also a selection of bats and a bucket of balls laid out by the bleachers, and extra copies of the rule book Meg has compiled.

Castiel—as ever, in his trench coat--stands a little apart, hands clasped behind his back. He’s not quite sure what to say. Addressing assemblies has never really been a part of his job description.

He clears his throat.

“Hello,” he says. “Welcome to the team meeting.”

So far, so good.

“The purpose of this meeting is to become acquainted, so that we may go forth into the game with a sense of camraderie. This way we may talk, and, if we wish, practice together.”

Castiel nods deicisively.

Clearly, the celestial chain of command is not good at delivering the warm, fuzzy speeches. But it’s a start.

[OOC: For the players and their muns to have a good time. Go forth, handwave, play, mingle, enjoy!]

Comments

[a1enzo]

Enzo looks at the food in mild dismay. Oh, the travails of being an energy-being in a mostly-matter environment.

[heyfootballhead.livejournal.com]

"What's wrong, Enzo?"

Yep, Arnold is present, purple kool-aid in hand.

[a1enzo]

"Ahh, I guess he didn't know about the food thing. It's no big deal."

[cutting_edgex23]

"Practice will be useful," X says.

She has a cup of kool-aid.

It is purple. And very sweet.

She also, unfortunately, has no idea how to run a baseball practice for more than two people.

So it goes.

[ostro_goth]

"Greetings," Teja says. He vaguely remembers speaking to this woman a long, long time ago -- was it not at the viewing of that football game?

Perhaps she has taken to sports, now; for then, she knew as little of it as he did.

[cutting_edgex23]

She looks up at over at him, nostrils flaring for a moment as she catches his scent.

Then --

"Hello."

Beat.

"I did not know you liked baseball."

[aj_crawley]

Crowley's a little late to the meeting, which - if you're inclined to put faith in such things - probably oughtn't to bode well. But in his defense, he didn't see the flyer (or rather, didn't notice it amongst the multitude of signs that so frequently populate the noticeboard and the bar) until Bar herself kindly presented him with one instead of his hazelnut coffee.

Therefore: a demon, slinking in amidst the back of the small assembly, and trying to look as though he's been there all along.

[a1enzo]

Enzo gives him an I see what you did there look.

Hey, he's a schoolboy; he's done his share of tardy sneaking attempts, albeit more before the Academy. It's amusing to see that expression and attitude on a grown-up.

[themidnightson]

It's harder for Edward to miss the people who seem outside of his range of hearing than it is the plethora of voices that slip into and out of his thoughts. So Crowley does get a glance when he arrives at the back.

[themidnightson]

Edward's somewhere in the background. Neither early nor later and not paying attention to the food table at all.

Maybe it's convenient that someone else is already talking to Castiel when he arrives, his gaze hovering on the Angel who had shaken Carlisle's foundation before it moves on to his teammates.

[cutting_edgex23]

X looks over at him, meeting his eyes. Then she tilts her head very slightly.

Maybe it's his scent.

(Maybe it's the fact that he probably smells a little like Carlisle.)

"Hello."

[thursdays_angel]

Castiel is trying to make the rounds of all the players, and it is only a matter of time before he approaches Edward.

He does the young man the courtesy of stopping out of arm's reach. He knows he makes the vampire uneasy.

To be fair, the unease cuts both ways.

"Hello, Edward. Thank you for coming."

[evil_koala_626]

Edward's lack of interest in the refreshments aside, as the wind shifts someone in the general vicinity of the food table is paying very close attention to him.

Edward's is an oddly floral scent, pungent and cloying to extraterrestrial olfactory sensibilities. Into woven with it are the remnant of other scents, here the aroma of other likewise perfumed beings, there the traces of something much more familiar. Warmer. Female.

And then there is the other scent coiling around the others sharp, pervasive and metallic. It's a scent Stitch has encountered before. Simultaneously, two large ears note the jarring silence that reigns in place of the steady pulse of a heartbeat.

Stitch's eyes go wide, his jaws parting slightly in mute surprise.

[ostro_goth]

Teja finds the food slightly doubtful, but would not offend his host; so he sits with a beaker of bright green Kool-Aid and a cookie with raisins in, listens to what is said, and looks at his team-mates.

He has seen all of them, at some stage or another, and spoken to several.

[a1enzo]

"Hi, y'rmajesty! Didn't know you played sports!"

[thursdays_angel]

"Hello, Teja," Castiel says.

His own cup of Kool-Aid is purple. Though, it should be noted, he has not sipped any more of it than has been necessary to fit in. The beverage seems to be mostly sugar. But, by his observations, this seems to the the kinds of foods baseball players like.

"The backstop looks good. Fine metal-work."

[gotham-knocking.livejournal.com]

"This," thinks Knox, "is gonna be the weirdest game I've ever seen." Complete with a team weirder than even the 1962 Mets or the 1969 Pilots.

[themidnightson]

"It would be safe to assume, then, that you are not new to sport?"

Edward may not pained, in his calm, collected state, with his hands in his pockets, but many people he's met seem to be freshly green who are going to be in this game.

[a1enzo]

"Well, duh. It's Milliways."

[thursdays_angel]

Alas, Castiel does not bring with him any reassurances of normality.

"Mr. Knox. Welcome to the meeting. And the team," he says.

[heyfootballhead.livejournal.com]

A little ways away from the practice equipment, Arnold and Enzo are warming up by tossing a ball back and forth.

Eventually, they'll move on to batting and fielding practice.

They would welcome any other teammates who want to play...and everybody could use a little practice, right?

[evil_koala_626]

Over at the refreshment crates, several cookies have already met their grisly demise at the jaws of the Enigma's shortest team member. Between confections, Stitch peers curiously about at the others. Some of them he's encountered before. Mostly though they are strangers, known any via their scent trails (and in at least Enzo's case, not even that).

Unfortunately, further investigation of the foodstuffs seems to take higher priority than meeting new people at the moment. The pitcher of green Kool Aid is seized with enthusiasm. Some of it even manages to wind up in his mouth.

[thursdays_angel]

"Perhaps I should have asked for more napkins," Castiel says, with something like amusement, from the other side of the table.

Not that he really minds the mess. He's glad the refreshments are being enjoyed.

[headed4hell]

As motivational speeches go, Grace thinks it could be a heck of a lot worse. She's used to playing ball with her brothers. Hanadarko baseball games typically deteriorate into name-calling and wrestling within an inning or two, even when the lot of 'em are playing on the same team.

"Cool," she says to no one in particular, flashing a lopsided grin. Grace finds the idea of a baseball game at the end of the universe hilarious. No way she'd miss out. She's tossing a ball up and catching it in her worn glove, thinking about spiking a cup of Kool-Aid with a little of the whiskey in the flask distending the back pocket of her equally worn jeans.

[thursdays_angel]

"'Cool.' That means that a thing is good."

Castiel doesn't use much slang. But he does pay attention.

And he is gratified that this is 'cool.'

He tilts his head, watching her toss the ball.

"Your glove is old," he comments.