I'll tell you a story of whiskey and mystics and men.

[dashboardlite]

Who: Philip, Dean Winchester, and all the Wonderland residents ever
Where: Fifth floor, Room five
When: RIGHT. NOW.
Rating: PG for suggestive themes and the consumption of alcoholic beverages in the presence of minors.
Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures. "Desperate measures" meaning ...
The Story:



It is an auspicious night. Your transmitter crackles excitedly, bearing good tidings in the form of Dean Winchester standing proudly in front of a door, Philip LaFresque at his side, expression rather put-upon. Your resident hunter beams.

"Evenin', ladies and gents!"

"Do we have t--"

"Shaddup, Phil. Come one, come al-"

"We've constructed a bar in room five on the fifth floor," Philip interrupts, stepping forward to save the day. "We all know that getting alcohol has never exactly been a problem here, but you also know that everything tastes better when you--"

"Apple-bobbing! Pie-eating contests! Classic rock! Wet t-shirt competition!"

”There is no wet t-shirt competition!”

The feed cuts short in a haze of white noise, but the offer still stands.


[[ ooc note; Both Dean and Philip will be available for separate threads, so you can interact with your friendly and charming bartenders. Please feel free to use the free space below to interact with anyone else in Wonderland's new roadhouse pub gin joint speakeasy whatever! :D You are not obligated to talk to either of the classy fellows behind the counter. ]]

Comments

[blahblahblahblah]

[As if he wasn't going to show. Sam heads down after the transmission, looking judgmentally around as he enters. ... There are a lot of people here. And, is that a pony?]

Wonder whose idea the pie-eating contest was. [ :l ]

Dude, you weren't kidding about this place being... uh, different.

[dashboardlite]

[That is indeed a pony. Yes, it is pink. And yes, it talks.]

It ain't a party without pie.

[Dean notes sagely, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows and leaning on the bar.]

And yeah, s'real different, right? We just kinda picked an empty room and bam, we had a bar. 'Course, took a little haggling over how to make it look...

[He's still a big fan of the grungy Roadhouse-type bar.]

...but I guess this kinda venue brings in more people.

[He still shoots Philip a look, since the Brit had a hand in making it "classier."]

[blahblahblahblah]

[Crazy town. Sam nods at the explanation, glancing around with an appreciative nod at the scenery.]

Seems like it's getting pretty popular. You guys did a good job.

[He sticks his hands in his pockets.]

[dashboardlite]

[Funky town, my brother. Real funky.]

Stop it, you'll make me blush.

[He throws a bar towel over one shoulder and puts on a serious business face.]

But I'm gonna need you to show me some ID, kid.

[blahblahblahblah]

[WHOA NOW, don't use the code words unless you mean it!!]

Oh, please. [He chuckles, crossing his arms.]

Do you know all these people, anyway?

[dashboardlite]

[It's okay, guns being held to people's heads? Doesn't happen all that often here. Unless it's an event, or something. Even then, it's pretty rare.]

Uhhhhhhh...

[Dean gives his chin a thoughtful rub, looking across the bar. Around the room. And then back to Sam.]

...most of 'em, actually.

[A grin.]

Why, surprised I got friends too?

[blahblahblahblah]

[As long as Gordon never makes an appearance ever, everything will be fiiiine.]

Hey, that's not what I said. [He laughs, shaking his unkempt head.] Just wondering.

[dashboardlite]

[Gordon isn't cool enough to come to this party. He's FREAKING CRAZY. And also dead.]

S'what you were implying.

[Wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more?]

So whaddayou want, before I grab you a Sprite?

[blahblahblahblah]

Whatever you say. [INNOCENT SHRUG.]

Uh-- I mean, what d'you... recommend? [It's a question, because they're in Wonderland, and who knows what they even drink in this place.]

[dashboardlite]

...anything?

[He looks behind the counter.]

Everything? We even got the crap that's hard to find for you and me back home. They got my favorite beer.

[blahblahblahblah]

No wonder you're so happy here. [Friends and booze, look at you, big bro! He grins again.] That's fine, then. Hit me.

[dashboardlite]

One Corona del Sol, comin' right up.

[Here you go, sweetheart. Dean even put a girly lime slice in it for you.]

And things could be worse, so hey, I try to roll with the punches.

[blahblahblahblah]

[Dangit. :l HE'S A BOY OKAY]

... Thanks. [Not commenting on the abuse.]

Things could always be worse, right? [Sam shrugs.] Story of our lives, really.

[dashboardlite]

[Whatever you say, princess.]

Haaaaaa yeah, there's always somethin'. How ya settlin' in here, though? Make any study-buddies?

[blahblahblahblah]

[Grumble grumble, going to take a sip now.]

I met a few people when I first showed up, not too many since. Guess I need to get out more.

[Give him some credit, though... this is all a lot happening at once.]

I met, uh... Souji, John Watson, Kurt, Philip... maybe one or two others?

[dashboardlite]

You're better at makin' friends than me, you'll be fine.

[But right, right, he needs to think over all those names. Souji he doesn't know all that well, but the others...]

Watson's got his crazy detective friend here, but they're like...weirdo modern versions, or something. Kurt's kinda like a tiny version of you-

[Bitchface and everything.]

-and Philip's...

[Philip does, quite possibly, count as a "friend." A best friend, even. And Sam knows how rare that is. With all the time Dean spent alone, lacking Sam, he had to wrestle out of his comfort zone and start hanging out with people who weren't his little brother.]

...Philip's cool. Pretty limey, but he's all right for a British guy.

[That's a big compliment and a serious understatement for how much Dean cares about the guy. No one can ever take the place of Sam, but Dean trusts Philip as though he were family.]

[blahblahblahblah]

Who, Sherlock? Sherlock Holmes? [Sam knows fairy tales and Harry Potter, you can bet he knows Arthur Conan Doyle, too. At first, he shakes his head dubiously, but... well. They're in Wonderland. Why can't some modern versions of fictional characters be there, too?]

[At the mention of Philip, Sam actually grins, mainly because of his brother's reaction. Yeah, he knows how rare it is for Dean to find someone he considers a friend, let alone a good one. It means as much to Sam as it does to Dean, really; it's one of the few little good things in their world of negatives.]

He seemed alright when we spoke. [And it was over the network, but whatever.] I'll have to meet him in person. He's here, right?

[dashboardlite]

Sherlock Holmes, yeah.

[Dean wrinkles his nose.]

The detective's kind of a dick, but he probably traded his soul for super-observation skills, or somethin'.

[Wait. Wait, Dean. Dean. That's not funny, Dean. It's a good thing this Sam doesn't know about that, Dean. Way to go.

He coughs.]

Right, but uh, Phil's here, yeah.

[Dean jerks his thumb to the side.]

Servin' brewskis down at the other end. He teaches Physics at some fancypants college in England.

[blahblahblahblah]

[ Yep, Sam still doesn't know about that. Good going. Luckily, he doesn't think anything of it, aside from a weak chuckle. ]

Let's hope not. Last thing we need to deal with here are Hell Hounds.

[ He follows the direction Dean's indicated. ] He sounds like an interesting guy.

[dashboardlite]

[The last thing Dean needs period are Hellhounds on his trail. But more on that later.]

Yeah, and you guys can talk about...college stuff...or somethin'.

[You know, since "college stuff" isn't Dean's forte.]

Check out the library yet, Poindexter?

[blahblahblahblah]

... Right. College stuff. [ Roooolling his eyes, because. That's so Dean. ]

Not yet. I was planning on stopping by there, later.

[ There's a little twitch of a smile. ]

But, I'm sure you're there all the time, right?

[dashboardlite]

Oh, yeah. You know me. Studying it up. All the time. Like a...studying...person.

[Very convincing, isn't he?]

[blahblahblahblah]

Wow. [ Sigh. ] A studying person. I don't know if you forgot, but we did go to school.

[dashboardlite]

Yeah, but that was like a million years ago.

[Hello, where have you been?

...oh. Wait. College. Right.]

There's a few people I know who hang out there a lot, though - the library, I mean. Kinda-crackpot conspiracy theorist who goes by the name of Mark Meltzer, and then there's Phil's girlfriend, who's like...

[He pauses, trying to find the right words.]

...she's a librarian from nineteen-twenty-something who really digs Egypt. Figuratively and literally, too.

[Knock yourself out with the history lectures, Sammy.]

[blahblahblahblah]

[ Exactly! Learning about law things and whatever. ]

From nineteen-twenty-something. [ He repeats, his eyebrows disappearing into his bangs. Finally, he just chuckles, shaking his head. ]

Are you sure this isn't some insane dream?