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

Dial D for DEAN

[dashboardlite]

[ Correspondences and/or interactions with Dean go HERE ]

Re: Dial D for DEAN

[insidethechimney]

[Pinkie hops over to the bar. Not to order anything - oh no, but to ask about the apple bobbing.]

Excuse me! I think you made a mistake. I can only find apples in the apple bobbing tank!

[dashboardlite]

[HOLY CRAP A TALKING PINK HORSE.

Good thing Dean knows how to handle any and every situation ever. He leans over the bar with a raised eyebrow.]

Yeah, s'where we put 'em. You want some...not...in the tank?

[insidethechimney]

[Have a long, slow blink.]

Then you're doing it wrong! That's not surprising at all. Do you want an exciting party or a boring one where everyone falls asleep, but not like a sleepover party where you're supposed to fall asleep?

[dashboardlite]

...I wasn't s'posed to hide the apples, was I?

[He replies, amused.]

What's your name, Twinkletoes?

[insidethechimney]

You were supposed to put other stuff in there! Like false teeth and things that bubble and baby alligators!

[She shakes her head.]

It's Pinkie Pie. I hope that's not what you call ponies in your world, humanface, because our toes aren't shiny without Rarity around.

[dashboardlite]

[Baby alligators? You fit right in, here, Miss My Little Pony.

...wait, that might not be inaccurate.]

Rari-who?

[A laugh.]

Okay, that's fair. I'm Dean. What's your name?

[insidethechimney]

Rari-teeeee. You haven't met her? She was here when I first arrived. She's white and purple with the prettiest curly mane!

My name is still Pinkie Pie, though most people call me Pinkie.

[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?

[epiccombo]

[Dude. Drinking is totally up Puck's alley. He's got some stuff that he'd like to not remember, and what better way to forget than to get drunk?

So he walks up to the bar.]

Hey.

[dashboardlite]

I'd ask for an ID, but I'm kinda past that already.

[He doesn't want to keep track, and these kids can probably get the stuff from the closets, anyway.]

What's your poison, dude?

[epiccombo]

Yeah, well, even if you said no, I totally have my ways.

[The closets don't ask for ID, after all.]

Got any beer?

[This would be a pretty sucky bar if he doesn't.]

[dashboardlite]

[Your ways aren't as cool as this venue, dude.]

It ain't a question of having it - we got any kind you want. You got a preference?

[epiccombo]

[This does beat hanging around outside a gas station, hoping someone will fork over some cash for beer.]

Nah, not really.

[He pauses, as something has just occurred to him.]

What's the catch? You gonna make us start tabs or something?

[dashboardlite]

Nah, I don't really see the point.

[You look like a beefy guy, Puck, let's give you something extra-manly.]

We just sorta wanted a hangout place, y'know?

And about the believers and how the whole thing began.

[40410]

Long time, no see, Dean. The kid who should have given a more hipster answer to the Led Zeppelin question is hanging around room five, looking sort of out of place next to the decadent decorations.

Criminally, he has not obtained an alcoholic beverage of his own.

Alex came here to make some attempt at sociability. So, even though he's doing a fine job of blending into the background in a cloud of party-poopingness, he finally approaches Dean.

"Uh, hey."

DA-DA-DAAAAAAAAAA

[dashboardlite]

Hipster kids tend to stand out, what with their skinny jeans, thick-rimmed glasses and tendency to wear plaid. Dean only has one out of three when it comes to hipster-isms, but fortunately, plaid is also the universal color of manliness and lumberjacks. He is therefore exempt from scrutiny.

Hipsters also drink strange beverage, like IPA, and despite Alex Kralie's dashing hipster looks, Dean is the sort of man to shun Indian Pale Ales as though they were Satan incarnate.

"Hey!"

He offers a crooked grin as he leans across the counter.

"Dude, it's been like, a million years. Where the Hell've you been and what kinda drink can I get ya?"

FIRST THERE WERE WOMEN AND CHILDREN OBEYING THE MOOOOOON

[40410]

God, narration, stop describing Alex's outfit before you've even been told what it is. It's uncanny. And his glasses are prescription, OKAY?

"I'm fine. I just haven't gotten out much."

Roll a d6 for Detect Practiced Lie!

"What about you? ...It looks like you've had fun."

Glancing around the bar. And skipping over the other question. When you live in fear for your life and other things, there are two popular paths as regards alcohol: you can turn to the bottle for guidance and comfort, or you can avoid it completely because tonight might be the night when you need all your wits about you. tl;dr: Alex has mellowed out a bit, but he's still an infrequent boozer.

DA DA DAAAAAAAAH

[dashboardlite]

PRESCRIPTION GLASSES DEAN'S ASS

Dean is well-versed in lies. You might call him the lie-master. Over many years, these lies have gotten him onto crime scenes and into women's skirts. He sees through Alex Kralie's lie because it's about as transparent as lemon flavored Jell-O.

"Fun, sure. If that's what you wanna call it," he snorts, rolling his eyes. Which he can do now. Because he has both of them ever since he lost a life to the Jabberwocky. You may notice his lovely green eyes. They are quite nice.

"Got my brother here, which is nice and all. Kinda wish there were more chicks, but when have I not wished there were more chicks?"

THEN DAYLIGHT BROUGHT WISDOM AND I DIDN'T TAG VERY SOOOOOON

[40410]

Lemon flavoured Jell-o is delicious. It makes tangy and refreshing lies that you know you want inside you. Don't hate, appreciate.

In othe news, holy shit, Dean has both eyes. Like, what even happened there. I'm pretty sure this is the first time Alex has seen him without a patch on, and Alex is pretty sure he assumed there was something more painful under there than a startlingly beautiful green eye. He is, as you might say, eyeing that eye with interest.

"Your brother?" Alex... can see that being a bonus or a horrible turn of events, honestly. At least in part because Wonderland is not something you wish on your loved ones.

"...I dunno whether to say that's good or say sorry."