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

sob

[blahblahblahblah]

[ BUT SAM WANTS TO TAKE CARE OF HIS BIG BROTHER TOO OKAY ]

I know, I just thought I should tell you. [ Something's a little off about this whole conversation, but this is supposed to be a fun, carefree night. So, he swallows his questions, already guilty at the flashes of expression he's seen on Dean's face.

He attempts a sort of half-smile, rubbing at the back of his neck. ]

Sorry for bringing it up. I just, ah... yeah.

;___;

[dashboardlite]

[NO HE IS NOT ALLOWED. So there.]

Nah, it's okay.

[It's not.]

Just don't want you t'get stuck in a rut, y'know? I've been here a friggin' long-ass time, and it was pretty crap for the first few months.

[blahblahblahblah]

I won't. [ He probably will, but that's just Sam. Y'know, the whole rainy windows deal. ] I get it; this is different.

[ Won't stop him from worrying like a fiend. ]

[dashboardlite]

So don't worry.

[Dean stresses, hoping for a subject change as he pushes another drink in Sam's direction.]

Chill out. S'what this place is all about.

[A beat.]

...sometimes.

[blahblahblahblah]

[ He takes the drink, bobbing his head in a weary nod. ]

Yeah, I got it. And we've got time, so...

[ Hopefully, he thinks. Hopefully. ]

Well-- [ And he holds up the drink, with a half-smile. ]

Here's to... this place, I guess?

[dashboardlite]

And here's to endless beer.

[He clinks their respective glasses and throws his alcohol back.

Sometimes the pros really outweigh the cons, here.]