The almost-smirk tagged on to that made Chuck almost-smile in return, a little amused. Were this guy human, or capable of being killed by normal things, he’d have warned him about the dangers of popping up on the wrong people, and how, you know, someone might shoot him or something... but this was an angel, and all he’d have to worry about was taking a moment to fix his vessel and clear the blood and holes away from his clothing. Yeah, angel-powers must be nice. Free dry-cleaning, no hospital visits...
>“I was hoping you would be able to enlighten me in that regard, Chuck. Your visions have become more frequent.”
“I don’t know what’s going on, all these ...visions, they’re all... they don’t make any sense.” Chuck’s tone was skirting close to a whining sound, now, and he was well aware of it. Distantly, he was kind of embarrassed about it - he should be handling this better, he shouldn’t have been so worn-down that he was getting to this point, he was used to this he should have been able to handle it - but that was outweighed by exhaustion and pain and the fact that he was generally just sick and tired of the whole seeing the future gig.
>“I have been asked to check that you are settling well, that the transition to the complex has been a smooth one.”
Smooth probably wasn’t exactly the word Chuck would use to describe this whole ordeal. Hellish was better. A lot better. Between the whole everybody-looks-like-some-dude thing and the increase in vision-headaches (because the visions themselves aren’t actually getting through - it’s like they’re getting caught in a filter and his head just aches for no reason, for scattered pictures and flashes of things he doesn’t understand), it had sort of been one problem after another, one stop after another, on side roads and in whatever motel he could come across as soon as possible, when the headaches got to the point where he couldn’t be driving anymore. Never mind that he’d had to pack everything he owned - that he planned on taking - into his car, get people to deal with everything else (which, um, he still needed to do, actually, since at the time there had been no someone to ask, because everyone had been the same person and mildly psychotic, at that), and the fact that he had been out driving which always caused a decent level of anxiety to build up.
“Oh, it’s gone great.” Okay, it probably wasn’t exactly the best plan, using sarcasm to respond to an angel; he was pretty sure he was supposed to be respectful and all that.