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

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. ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

TWO CAN PLAY AT THIS GAME, KYLE. But Jade will be the bigger person and not return the middle finger. Instead she claims the bottle of absinthe. She sniffs it before taking a drink and wow this.......

This tastes like shit. "This is what adults like to drink? It's disgusting!" she coughs. This doesn't keep her from taking another sip.

John shrugs. "Mine's good. And Kyle's apparently doing okay." He really did seem to knock back a lot. "But, uh, yeah, I guess I don't see the point, here. I just feel kind of warm."

"You're both wrong," Kyle says, authoritatively. "It's shit but shit that makes the other shit seem less shitty by comparison. Like this shitty mansion." Oh boy, time for another gulp.

"Uh...huh." You sound a little crazy there Kyle. "I can't believe we did all that work for something that doesn't even taste good," she whines. Jade takes her bottle and sits down on the ground.

This sucks.

"I don't think the mansion is that bad..." John looks at Kyle. "I mean, it can be bad but. I'm guessing you have some special beef with it?"

Kyle slumps onto the floor, nursing his Jameson's. "Tasting good isn't the point. That's why they're usually mixed or something. We got it so everything else would suck less and also because they didn't want us to have it."

He stares at John. "Personally, I prefer not being kidnapped. Since your family and boyfriend seem to have been uprooted here, maybe it doesn't suck so much for you. Maybe that immunises you from the loss of control."

"I like Wonderland. It's not so bad," she takes a large swig of her drink and makes a face, "But I understand. Back home is better for you."

She looks back at her bottle with disinterest. Jade is going to have to talk to those bar people about getting things that taste good.

John frowns. "Not everyone we know is here." He chews his lip. "My dad isn't."

In an effort to change the subject, John offers his bottle to Jade. Maybe she'll like Bailey's better.

Unfortunately, Kyle's ranty tongue has been loosened by the alcohol.

"Why would you want your parents around? Parents suck. They just start wars and try to move you to San Francisco and sue your best friend. Or they're crack whores or alcoholics or easily swayed fools who prize giant shits over everything else. Fuck adults."

Jade will definitely take your tastier beverage, John. Enjoy the absinthe she shoves your way.

"Yeah! They don't let you do anything at all and are soooo overbearing. Jeez." She may or may not be talking about her dog right now. Who knows? More importantly, who cares?

John sends Jade a sideways glance. She only had a parent for, like, six years, but you know, whatever.

"My dad was-- is --pretty okay. He's not, like, too strict." John pulls his legs into his chest and takes another drink. "I miss him a lot."

"Uh, I thought you two were siblings. Isn't your dad her dad?" He manages to cut himself off before he gets any more insensitive. "But I'm sorry, dude. Maybe he'll turn up soon. But hopefully not too soon or he'll give you shit for drinking."

"No. We aren't related the normal way. John can explain it better." Because there is no way she is getting into this, not with her head being fuzzy.

"Ummm." John's head was also fuzzy. And the Bailey's tasted good. "Like. Basically we were 'separated at birth'."

Never mind that they were never really born in the first place.

"I was raised by my dad, who adopted me, really. Jade was raised by her grandpa but he was...uh, well. Yeah, it's complicated. You probably wouldn't believe us. Adopted! We were adopted but had the same parents. That's all."

"Slow down, professor. I'm clearly a moron who can't understand the concept of different adoptive parents." Wasn't the alcohol supposed to make him happier and nicer? It just seemed to be making everything shittier. "I mean, I would have thought they'd try to keep you together but there's lots of ways that wouldn't have worked out. It's still normal. I guess."

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

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;___; i am sorry you guuys i suck